#i forget his exact salary but it's ridiculous

[baronmagikcarp]

I gotta add on my experience. I was in school in the 90's so it has changed a bit but not too much I think. I went to an American suburban high school in a conservative area for context.

Do you really drive to school? Yes. The town I grew up in did not have public transit and we lived kind of out in the country. I took a school bus and my mother took me to school as well until I was old enough to drive on my own at 16.

Do you not have uniforms? This was actually a big debated thing when I was a kid. Mostly the only place you saw uniforms when I was a kid was either at exclusive private schools or at inner city (read: minority/poor) schools. It's changed a bit now but not a lot.

Do you really pay in the cafeteria? Yes. I lived in a fairly well off suburb so I don't know what happened if you couldn't afford it when I was in school but you really did have to pay. There's a whole thing in here about how people would rather pay more per year in various little fees then pay a decent tax rate just so someone "undeserving" doesn't get something but I'm not going to go into it.

Are you allowed to eat outside? When you were a senior (last year of high school) you could leave campus and go to lunch and you could eat a few places that weren't the cafeteria but our school wasn't really set up for outdoors eating anyway. I spent most of my lunches in the library.

Do you have mascots? Yep. Ours was a bulldog.

Are school sports THAT big of a deal? In my state they're HUGE. American Football was the biggest of them all. My school had basketball, baseball, American football, wrestling, tennis, swimming, and I feel like I'm missing one but they were all fairly important but yeah, the football part was huge with basketball as next in line of importance. With football, we'd have assemblies just to cheer for the team before they went to a game. The fall social calendar for kids revolved around going to games with friends and dates. It was every bit as big as you've probably seen in various media. Part of it is because, especially in small towns, there's nothing to do. Another part is because college is so expensive that getting a sports scholarship could mean the difference between going or not going. There's more to it then that but yeah, it's amazing how big a part of life of the school it can be.

jock anon here! I have more questions about western schools because I always wondered how much is true :

Do you really drive to school?

Do you not have uniforms?

Do you really pay in the cafeteria? are you allowed to eat outside?

Do you have mascots?

are school sports THAT big of a deal?

(Sorry if these sound stupid but I really wanted to know )

To answer, I grew up on farmland in rural Canada

If you have your own car and a driver's license, you can drive to school. It's definitely too far to walk, but some people might bike. The city bus only goes through every four hours, but the school bus isn't too bad. If these don't work your guardians might drop you off before they go to work.

No, we did not have uniforms, that's rich city bitch shit. I personally enjoyed the fishnets and stompin boots combo but no, no uniform. Loosely-enforced dress code, too.

Yes, the cafeteria costs money. There are snack programs for If you don't have money but it's usually apples and granola bars, sometimes mac n cheese for a dollar or something. We can eat anywhere we want, just not the library, gym, or art rooms, and nobody's allowed up the trees.

We had a mascot but we didn't really use it. There was a costume but I think I only saw it twice.

I could not have given less of a shit about team sports, and I was *on* a sports team. We didn't really watch the teams play, either. From what I've seen in America it is NOTHING like they do. No parades or parties or sirens in the street, just trying to make it to nationals, maybe get a scholarship. (Didn't work for me, I was an art kid.)

It doesn't sound stupid but maybe ask an American for Wilder stories, holy fuck the sport team I saw had a fire truck wailing around town when they won once holy fuck damn near shit meself

[perriewinklenerdie]

Follow my steps (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 3,8 k

Summary: OH3 Chapter 12/13 added content. Claire gets fed up with the way Ethan’s been treating her lately. She gives him one last chance to make things right, at Boston Opera House - for old time’s sake.

Warnings: It’s angst time.

A/N: I don’t even know what’s going on lately. I wanted angst and here it is. My girl C really is running thin on her patience for her man’s bullshit (and so am I).

Are you okay? was the first message he received from her that day. He left shortly after he revealed his departure from the team, so her concern really should be no surprise. Still, he sighed deeply, silenced his phone and turned it screen side down, then went back to cooking, unsure what his answer would be.

Minutes dragged by, yet somehow turned into hours and before he knew it, the sun was racing towards the horizon. Almost completely consumed by it. He reached for his phone, planning on heading to his living room and rest his mind after he spent what felt like ages of grueling research into his options. His face twisted into a frown at the sight of his screen. Immediately after, blood drained from his face.

Ethan, please let me know you’re in one piece.

A simple ‘I’m fine’ would be enough. Seriously, I’m getting worried.

He battled with his brain, still uncertain what to tell her. She had enough on her plate with the team and the Boards, she didn’t need his problems to be added onto the already enormous pile. He replied with the only thing he could think of in that moment, resenting himself for letting her worry about him for so long.

I’m okay.

By the time he sat down on the couch and some ridiculous show was playing in the background – Claire was the one that introduced him to it, and he would never admit it, but he enjoyed their debates about it – a new message was waiting for him.

Oh, thank god.

Followed shortly after by a longer one, contents of which made him feel a pit opening in his stomach.

So, want to share with class why you went radio silent for the whole day, instead of, I don’t know, letting your girlfriend know that you’re not dead so she could worry a bit less?

He had no answer to that. How was he supposed to tell her that he was terrified of what was to come and that it could possibly be fatal for him? How was he supposed to say that he didn’t want her to be even associated with the case, because he cared about her too much to risk her getting affected by it too?

In the end, he didn’t reply. And she didn’t say anything else. An impasse, of his own doing, that he had no idea how to end. He knew he had to do something – she was a very patient woman, much more patient than him, but even she had her limits. And this? This wasn’t the first time he’s pushed her away in a similar manner.

Although he was aware of that, he still refused to call her. It was getting late, she was probably studying or getting ready for bed. She needed her rest, the next week was incredibly important for her future as a doctor.

That’s what he told himself for the next two days. Every time he felt a tingle in his hand to contact her, he reminded himself of her commitments and pushed the thought down. Despite that, every single time his phone made even the smallest sound, he threw himself towards it, hoping that it was her.

It wasn’t. Two days of no contact between them.

Realizing how long it’s been made him think of their conversation a few months back. They were sitting in the exact same place he currently occupied, close to each other. His hand holding hers with certainty.

They promised each other no more secrets. No more pushing each other away. And honest conversation. All of which were his ideas. He whispered all of them with deep sense of urgency, in a fever-like state that surprised her. She nodded her head eagerly, muttering words of affirmation, then let him pull her onto him, their lips meeting again and again in a soft reassurance.

He’s broken the rules he wanted them so much to have. And not even once. No wonder she didn’t try to get in touch with him – he’s given her every indication that he didn’t want to talk about it, and she pushed only until a certain point was reached.

“I can take a hint, you know.” She once joked, poking his ribs when they walked out of the patient’s room, their initial consult being far from ideal. He smiled sadly at the memory, his chest aching from her absence.

As though he called her with his thoughts, his phone announced an incoming message. He planned what he would say, what he would do once he saw her – and what he would not do in the future. He hated when they didn’t talk to each other, and he hated the thought of losing her even more.

Instead of her words, like he expected, the screen greeted him with a single picture she sent him. Two tickets, for an evening show at Boston Opera House. A clear invitation, an olive branch that she should not have been pushed to extend – she didn’t do anything wrong. He looked closer at the photo, zooming in on the time the show was supposed to start.

Two hours. He had two hours to get himself together. Two hours until he’d see her again.

Heart pounding, he jumped up from his seat and began preparations, dialing another phone number and giving clear instructions to the person on the receiving end of the call.

~

He doesn’t think there’s ever been a time he was this nervous when stepping into the Opera building. And it was a different kind of nervous, a kind he never wanted to experience again. He was used to the anticipation that came with every date they ever had, the good kind of nervousness that stemmed from his inability to wait until he saw her. This, however, was torture in its purest form, and he admitted to himself with a pang of guilt that he subjected himself to it on his own.

His hands were full. Full of flowers that the florist somehow managed to put together when he called frantically two hours ago – he left a hefty tip with a grateful nod. His fingers traced the stems of the white roses, shaking nervously. From time to time, he tugged on the collar of his shirt, restlessly, the uncertainty of what was to come making his breathing labored.

“Nice tux.” She called out, waiting patiently for him to face her. It didn’t take long – her voice made him turn around haphazardly, his eyes drinking in her face and then widening when he noticed the dress she was wearing. Suddenly, he couldn’t see anything else but the way the fabric hugged her in the classiest way.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he breathed out, his brain short circuiting. Her lips curled in a subtle smile. She touched the pearl necklace he once gave her in wonder.

“Haven’t decided yet.”

Ethan took a step towards her, extending the bouquet slightly with an uneasy look. Her eyes fell towards the flowers and, for a moment, he thought he could see her gaze softening. She took the roses from him, the scent reaching her in waves.

“Thank you.” she muttered without looking up at him. Despite her being just mere centimeters away from him, he could still feel the chasm between them – and he felt like the space was suffocating him.

“It’s not nearly enough.” He tried again. Claire hummed, not disagreeing with his words. She reached into her purse, taking two tickets out and handing him one of them. He accepted it gratefully, combing his mind for something that would start a conversation between them. The silence was killing him.

He looked closer at the ticket and noticed something was off. “You didn’t book our booth?”

The corners of her lips shot up slightly at ‘our’. “No, I got us seats in the booth on the other side. I needed…” she hesitated, avoiding his searching gaze. “A change of perspective.”

His mouth opened and closed. She rarely said anything without thinking it through, so the choice of words she used made him feel unease all over again. Claire finally looked up at him, giving him a teasing smirk.

“Before you say anything, I didn’t go bankrupt because of those.” She nodded towards the tickets in their hands. “I have more than enough money to spend on things I want.”

“That resident salary is treating you that well, huh?” he tried joking and it worked. She gave him a laugh, shaking her head.

“A resident that’s also on the Diagnostic Team. And you’re clearly forgetting what my family does for a living.”

“Did you just flex your family muscle on me?” Ethan grinned, taking another step towards her. She nodded, challenging him with her stare. “Are you trying to impress me?”

“That’s your job tonight, babe.” Claire shot back, walking around him swiftly. He froze in place, turning towards her like a sunflower towards the sun – always following where she went. Her hips swayed from side to side alluringly as she walked, and he couldn’t look away. Suddenly, she stopped to look over her shoulder, smirking at the look he was giving her. “Are you coming or not?”

~

The lights from the stage illuminated her face just enough for him to see her features. Since they sat down and the show has started, he’s spent a total of maybe five minutes watching what was happening on stage. Remaining time was occupied by her, on the forefront of his mind and right before his eyes. Her cheeks were reddened slightly – something he noticed when a particularly bright light shone on her face.

They’ve done it countless of times before. Dates. He never got used to nerves that accompanied them, and he hoped he never would. It was a part of the allure that made it all the more exciting. Claire’s always made him feel nervous, since the first day he’s met her. Three years later, he still felt the same spark that ran through him when he first touched her hand.

He turned to her again, unable to ignore the pang that hit him every time he saw her stopping herself from reaching for him. She may have been the one that organized their evening, giving him a chance to make things right between them, but it didn’t mean she was going to ignore what was obviously there.  

She’d never make him talk if he wasn’t ready to do so. Their relationship was built on mutual respect. They recognized when the other needed to talk and when they needed some time to gather their thoughts. Through the time they’ve known each other, they learned to find those cues and signs.

That’s how Claire knew that Ethan wasn’t really ready to tell her what exactly happened, hence why she stuck to texts instead of calls or visits. His lack of any contact, however, hurt her – more so when his previous behaviors similar to this were taken into consideration.

In light of this, her hesitation to initiate any sort of contact between them made perfect sense. All he had to do was let her know that he was okay, however relative it was to say in his current situation, and none of this would be happening. All he had to do was let her in, even if only a little – she’s never asked for anything more. And yet, he couldn’t even give her that, not immediately at least.

It became clear to him that he needed to let her know how much he trusts her. When she said she knew him. When she said she understood him – better than anyone, he added with a grin. When she said she’s falling for him. He trusted all of those words, but his actions didn’t support it. He could see it in her eyes when their gazes crossed earlier that evening. She thought he still sheltered himself from her, and him disappearing, again, was the proof that spoke the loudest.

Slowly, he reached for her hand. A soft brush of his finger against hers, testing the waters to see if she would flinch, if she would push him away or avoid him. When she did none of those things, he carefully covered her hand with his, only to, after a moment, lace their fingers together. Ethan gave her a squeeze, unable to bring himself to look away from the way their hands fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle. She squeezed his hand lightly, still refusing to look him in the eye.

Music swelled around them, tugging on their emotions until it was difficult to breathe. He noticed how her face twisted gently, revealing more of her feelings to him than he’s seen the entire evening. The characters on the stage have separated, each singing their hearts out about the feeling of loss – Claire couldn’t have known that, but the pain in their voices was enough to bring her to the edge of tears by the time the break in the show began.

Before Ethan could say anything, she excused herself breathlessly and walked out of the booth, leaving him alone to his thoughts. And he’s been alone with them for quite some time now.

He began reflecting on the first time he took her to see an opera. The similarity of the situation was striking – he suddenly knew why she suggested this out of every place they could go to. Her thoughtfulness really shouldn’t surprise him, yet he was always amazed with how well she knew what needed to be done. Oftentimes, she neglected her own needs to accommodate others, which left not much space for her in it all. That’s what became one of Ethan’s priorities early on in their relationship – make sure she remembered about herself.

She was taking care of him too, sometimes even unknowingly. Making him take breaks in the middle of the day. Bringing him coffee when he was stuck in meetings and couldn’t walk out of the room for even a second – the whole Board by now knew about their relationship from their first-hand observations, sending him meaningful looks when she left the room.

One thing that spoke more of her feelings for him than anything else was how she persistently stayed by his side through it all. His world was quite literally falling apart, and she was the one holding it in place. She told him that she knew how it felt to risk losing something you’ve worked for, how it felt to come so close to having everything slip away and that she was going to help him in any way she could.

Claire told him all of that when he broke the protocol – yet here they were again. If there was one person between the two of them that had a pattern of behavior, it was him – running away when things got too complicated. Or, as it stood right now, when he didn’t want her to get impacted by his problems. She’s told him that she wants to be impacted, that she wants to help him, because she cares about him. She’s by his side because she cares about him. And he told her he knew and understood her concern, but clearly, he didn’t register it enough, if he was in the exact same position right now. It’s as though he hasn’t learned a thing.

Perhaps she was getting tired of it. If he continued to act the way he’s been acting up until this point, she’d surely be pushed enough to leave him – and he couldn’t imagine a fate worse than that for himself.

It was the last time I let myself run, he thought to himself, cursing for even allowing it to get to this point. Where was his brain when he even considered it a viable option? In what universe would that behavior be okay? Her resolve and persistence became even more striking to him – he knew that he most likely didn’t deserve her.

She was still here, though, so he must have done something right. But one good deed wasn’t enough to make up for letting her down, time and time again. Ethan didn’t need her to tell him that what he was doing was unacceptable – he’s realized it on his own.

It’s never happening again.

Claire walked back into the booth, leaning against the wall to watch him. He was perfectly aware of what she could see in his posture. His nervousness in the way he played with the edge of his jacket. She’s been gone a moment too long and he was a second away from standing up from his seat to go after her.

Ethan turned around at the sound of her steps, refraining from saying anything until she was seated. His hand itched to reach for her, to feel her skin again. He got the permission to do just that, when their gazes finally crossed and she nodded gently. Letting out a shaky sigh of relief, he laced their fingers together, feeling the soft fabric of her dress under his skin.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, raising their joined hands to kiss her wrist. Claire guided the movement, pressing her palm to his cheek. The gesture ensured their eyes didn’t stray from one another and allowed them a moment of clarity.

“Aren’t you tired of running?” her words were laced with emotions so much, it felt like a mental blow to both of them. It was a simple question that he already knew the answer to. Nothing was more obvious to him.

“I am.”

She held his gaze, silent for a moment, then placed her second hand on his shoulder. “Don’t do it again.” she whispered, a hint of a tear shining in her eyes. “We’ve talked about it before, Ethan. I’m tired of going in circles with you.”

“I know.” He brushed the tear away, bringing her closer to rest his forehead against hers. “You don’t deserve this.”

“No, I don’t.” Claire agreed, nodding her head. She leaned away, lowering their hands and resting them in her lap. “You can tell me anything, in your own time. I’m the last person to judge, because I know that some things need that time. But I would never cut you out the way you just did, especially if I knew that you were worried.”

Ethan lowered his head in shame, finding no words to defend his dense behavior. He knew she was right – his behavior left a lot to be desired. Claire continued.

“It tells me that you don’t view me as your equal. You don’t trust me enough to confide in me. Every time something happens, it’s always the same story.” She sighed, falling deeper into her seat. Her hand was still in his, allowing him that form of contact. “I need transparency here, Ethan. We have rules, that you came up with, that you break every time things get tough.”

He winced at the vulnerable edge in her voice. More than ever before, he felt as though the ground was about to be pulled from beneath him.

“You can’t be in a relationship only a little. Or only on weekends. You’re either in it for good, and you take everything that comes with it, the easy and the difficult, or there’s nothing left to say.”

And there it was.

Ethan’s eyes widened. A hand wrapped around his heart and squeezed, making him feel lightheaded. If he ever had gotten a wake-up call before, this one was the loudest one. And the most devastating.

“Claire, wait.” He said, his voice strained when she tried to pull her hand out of his hold. She glanced at their hands, then up at him, her eyes glassy. Ethan breathed out heavily, pleading with his whole being for her to stay where she was. “You’re right. I haven’t been fair towards you.”

“That’s saying it mildly.”

“I know I don’t say it enough, but you’re my person. I trust you more than anyone else, even if I’m utterly useless at expressing it.” He gave her fingers a tender squeeze, his eyes finding hers urgently. “I’m an asshole for making you worry, and an even bigger one for keeping you in the dark. You deserve better, and lately, I’ve been messing up.”

“Can’t say I disagree.” She mused, tilting her head slightly. “Is there a reason for that?”

“I don’t know.” Ethan’s thumb traced her ring finger “It’s as though there is this outside force that’s making me do all those idiotic things, and before I realize what’s going on, everything’s already going to hell.”

“Sounds like you need to work on your impulse control.” Claire said, a tiny grin appearing on her face.

“You’re my impulse control.”

He cupped her cheek with his free hand, stroking the line of her cheekbone softly. She leaned in, just a fraction of a centimeter. Her gaze was a mix of feelings Ethan couldn’t describe – it made him feel a bit more at ease and at the edge of his seat, all at the same time.

“I’m sorry, Claire.” He muttered, voice low and thick, overcame with emotions. Claire nodded her head, a sigh filling the space between them. Her eyes, even though they were growing softer just a moment ago, were now hardened and serious.

“Don’t ever do that to me, ever again.”

“Of course. I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” She cleared her throat, straightening her posture. “If you don’t start treating me like your equal here, I will leave you. There’s only so much I can take, Ethan, and I draw the line at this.” Ethan’s entire body froze at a very real perspective of her walking away. The feeling of ground disappearing from beneath him came back, twice as strong. He shook his head, words rushing through his head. “And that would suck, because I don’t want to leave you.”

“I can’t lose you, Claire.”

“Then don’t lose me. Don’t push me away.” She breathed out, at last, squeezing his hand tightly. The atmosphere between them was heavy and it became difficult to breathe. Ethan knew they were not out of the woods, but he felt a bit less nervous when she cracked a smile. “Do I need to tie you down so you’d stop running?”

“You already did.” he mused, waiting for her permission, then leaning in to kissing her cheek softly.

They missed the second part of the show. He leaned close to rest his chin on her shoulder, his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her by his side – she wrapped her hand around his forearm in return. Voice low and quiet, he finally began telling her everything, sparing nothing. Once the show ends, he’ll follow her lead – after all, he’s never gotten lost with her by his side.

Notes

Am I above dissing PB in a fic, of all places? Hell no, I’m not. 

Opera because C is clever like that - and we love throwbacks to better times. 

PB is making Ethan act like an angsty teen. And don’t get me started on the ‘prying’ bit. Ma’am, it’s not prying, it’s called caring about your husband boyfriend because something is clearly going on and it seems as though he’s covering someone else’s ass and taking a fall for it. It’s called *concern*.

Thank you for reading! <3

Tagging separately

[cchellacat]

I Will Be Waiting

Darcy Lewis Bingo

Y1: Soulmate AU

Bucky/Darcy

18+ for some smutterfluff

Darcy never wanted to meet her soulmate, fate has other plans.

Thank you @hawksmagnolia​ for all your support and help and for the absolutely beautiful cover art/mood board! 

Darcy had been coming to New York since she was a kid. She loved the hustle and bustle, the people, the sounds, and the vibrance of the city. When Jane had taken up a teaching position at Columbia she’d been excited, with Jane as a guaranteed roommate she could finally afford to live in the city of her dreams.

It took her a month, applying for jobs to find one but she lucked out and got a great foot in the door at Stark Industries. It only took a year before some wise guy sent her up to act as Stark's assistant for the day; no doubt thinking she’d crash and burn or walk out as every other person had for the last ten years. Not Darcy Lewis, no siree, Darcy Lewis was not a quitter and Tony Stark was an overgrown man child, accustomed to pushing people's buttons till they cracked. Darcy didn’t crack. She pushed back. In less than a month she had Stark’s schedule running like clockwork and Pepper had given her the stamp of approval, promising that she’d be canonised as a saint when she died. Darcy had been walking on cloud nine ever since. Her job was a bit of everything, but surprisingly similar to a lot of what she'd done for Jane, everything from paperwork and coffee to experimental engineering. Her salary rivaled most department heads and she had been able to move into an apartment in the Tower. When Jane had visited Darcy she’d crossed paths with Tony and the two had hit it off. Jane’s funding went from meager to unlimited and she was offered science space at the Tower. All in all, life was good.  

One of Darcy’s favourite places in New York was in Central Park. There was a small plaza, in a quiet area of the park, perfect for some sun and picnicking at lunchtime. On a plinth at the far end was a statue. The real mystery though was that no one knew where it had come from. The statue of the man was just over six feet, he appeared to be a soldier, in full uniform from around the second World War. He stood, with one arm reaching out, as though waiting for someone to take his hand. There was no record of it being commissioned, no artist had claimed it. Eventually, the city had simply installed the wide plinth with room for the invisible stranger to stand on and constructed the small plaza since it had become somewhat of a tourist attraction. Many people visited just to get a photograph with the handsome soldier.

As with any good urban legend, a fairly ridiculous story built up around the statue. The most prevalent story was that he’d been a real man, frozen in time and only his soulmate could break the curse and bring him back to life. This was completely absurd, but romance sells and so it was in every tourist book and even had its own following on social media.

Touching the soldier was seen as good luck; people said if you did you’d meet your soulmate within a year. It had such cultural belief that many people ended up saying their first words to each other in this very spot. It was rumoured that Pepper Pots had met Tony Stark here ten years ago while she was on her lunch break and the man had spoken to her for the first time when he was passing through on a date with another woman. Darcy doesn't know if that's true, but she's about ninety-nine percent convinced it’s pretty damn accurate. Her boss has a picture of himself and Pepper in front of the soldier on his desk that he often looked at smugly.  

The Searching Soldier was deemed as the perfect place for romantic proposals, first dates, and even the occasional wedding. Darcy had seen her fair share of men and women getting on one knee and popping the question in the last two years since she’d made it her regular lunch spot and she couldn’t help but love this place for that alone. The Searching Soldier had become an icon and a symbol of true love and Darcy’s escape from the constant buzz of the building she worked and lived in.  

She crumples up her napkin and grabs her coffee cup and ambles over, throwing the waste in the bin before coming to a stop in front of the statue. She’s been inclined more than once to just climb up the steps and touch him, but she’d never been particularly superstitious or even very desperate to meet the man who will give her his first words. In spite of that, every time she stands here, part of her is really tempted to do it anyway. She’s looked at his face every day for two years, trying to figure out the expression. It doesn’t look hopeful or happy. His eyes are slightly wide, his mouth caught mid-smile, or perhaps on the cusp of speaking a name. He looks, Darcy thinks, both resigned and startled. Some days she thinks he’s saying goodbye instead of hello. Her phone beeps, disturbing her a little from her contemplation and she realises she's going to be late back to work if she doesn't hustle. Throwing one last look at the soldier and his out-stretched hand she hurried off.

      Stark’s experimental lab was a perfect example of finely organised chaos. Darcy both hated and loved it. There was certainly never a dull moment with Tony as her boss, but the number of clean up requirements every time an experiment went wrong meant overtime as well as exacting and specially vetted clean up crews to ensure no proprietary research left the building.

It’s getting late but Tony is in the final stages of construction of what he says will be a time machine. Darcy doesn’t want to think about the possible ramifications of such a breakthrough and has already discreetly informed Pepper and the Legal department.  

“Hey, pass me the sonic wrench will you?”

Darcy glares at the tools in front of her. She’s half-convinced he makes this stuff up just to mess with her. She randomly grabs an oddly shaped tool and passes it over.

When it happens, Darcy is caught off guard. The machine hums to life in almost the same second that the lab doors are forced open. Tony grabs her and hauls her up onto the pad behind him, his watch enveloping his hand as the repulsor glove activates. There is shouting going on and a gun fires. She’s not afraid to admit that at the moment, panic sets in and she’s hardly coherent of anything other than the feel of Tony's hand in hers before he wrenches it free and then slides something onto her wrist. The next thing she knows, the machine whirs to life, there's a sharp noise like metal on glass and then she's falling.

Silence envelopes her as she hits the ground. The bright light of the lab was gone, replaced with almost total darkness and the scent of damp. She groans, pushing herself up and is thankful when Tony’s twin moan of pain reaches her ears through the dark.  

“Tony?”

“You ok, Short Stack?”

“I’m fine, what the hell was that?”

“Time travel without a capsule. A little bumpy, but we managed.”

“Are you freakin’ kidding me?”

“No, why would I?”

“Are you insane? We can’t go experimenting on ourselves.”

“Would you rather we stayed where we were and got shot or kidnapped?”

Darcy glares as Tony’s suit deploys and an ethereal glow emanates from the nanotech.

“How are we meant to get back?”

Tony grins.

“I’m glad you asked. I put a recall device on us both before I launched us out of time.”

“The wristband?”  

He nods and moves to check her over.

“You seem alright. How are you feeling? Dizzy?, headache?... how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Ugh, you are not a doctor, Tony. I’m fine. Just jittery.”

“Hmmm, shock, probably. Good, that means they work.”

“Means what works?”

“The wristband isn’t just a tracker, it’s like a bubble of real-time from our timeline, one that travels with us and keeps us from what I theorised could be temporal sickness caused by the jump.”

“So what now?”

“We lay low for a few days, in forty-eight to ninety-six hours the tracker engages and we’re pulled back to our own time. Easy.”

“Sure it is, but what are we meant to do while we wait? Do you know when we are? We don’t have any money and I refuse to stay trapped in this mouldy basement for the next two days.”

Tony looks mildly chagrined before shrugging a little and muttering about him figuring it out. Darcy sighs and follows him. She was putting in for danger pay when she got back. This was above and beyond.

They make their way up through some abandoned tunnels, the air turning colder and colder the higher they climb. When they finally make it to the top Darcy realises they are in a railway tunnel and there is a train coming straight at them. Tony manhandles her for the second time that day and pulls her out of the way. Only his suit saved them from a steep snowy drop into the ravine below.  

They’re barely back on their feet when an explosion rips through the air and the side of the train car that almost hit them rips open.  Even with the speed it’s going, the unmistakable form of a man falling has Darcy crying in horror. Tony doesn’t hesitate. At that moment he forgets where he is, all that matters is saving a life. He takes off, leaving Darcy safely on the embankment, and flies after the man as the train speeds out of sight.

A shaking and cursing soldier drops in front of her as Tony lands and his suit retracts back into its casing. Darcy is barely processing it all as she stares at the stranger, he looks so familiar. He’s tall, dark-haired with the bluest eyes she’s ever seen. He shouts angrily, accusations flying back and forth as Tony explains who they are. Darcy doesn’t blame him, she wouldn’t believe them either. He does tell them the date though, 1945. She has traveled back in time seventy-five years, they are apparently somewhere in Austria. When he finally gives them a name, Tony winces and Darcy’s ears perk up. She knows that name. She knows it because the man in front of her died a hero, falling to his death from a train just before the end of the war. If they weren’t already white with the cold she’s pretty sure Tony would be turning transparent. How the hell do you tell someone they’re dead and have been for seventy-five years? Yeah, it goes down about as well as you’d think. Darcy suddenly sneezes and the sound of her teeth chattering stops both of the men mid-argument. It’s the first time the guy finally looks at her, his eyes seem to widen and then he’s whipped off his coat and swept it around her.

“We can’t stay out here, we have to get off this mountain and back to base.” He addresses Tony. Darcy almost wants to punch him for the rudeness of ignoring her even as she pulls the warm coat around her tightly, savouring the comforting warmth.  

“What do you not get about you’re dead? You can’t go back, you can never go back!” Tony punctuates each point with a finger jab at Sergeant Barnes, she grabs his hand to stop him. Barnes looks about one more jab away from knocking Tony out.  

“Tony, we still have to get out of here and somewhere sheltered. We don’t know how long we have before we go back and we can’t just leave the Sergeant without any help either. Maybe he can’t go back, but there must be something we can do to help him, right?”

Tony looks at her grudgingly and nods.  

“Okay, I’ve got a plan. We get back to the base, I go in alone and talk to Howard. We fly to New York and I’ll make sure Barnes here gets set up with a new identity and a job.”

Darcy smiles as brightly as possible at Barnes.

“See? A whole new start, it’ll be great!”

Barnes's eyes widen for a moment before he bites out the words she had been dreading to hear her whole life.

“I won’t leave Steve!”

To be fair, he looks almost apologetic the second after they came out of his mouth but Darcy closes up and Tony growls.

“What did you just say?”

Barnes raises his hands shaking his head, looking beseechingly at Darcy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I just-”

“Have you got any idea the damage those words have done to her you selfish neanderthal?”

Tony had seen her words once, completely by accident. They’d had to go through decontamination after a spill in the lab, the showers hadn’t left much room for modesty. Her words crawled up the small of her back, just below the rise of her jeans. After that, the older man had been stupidly attentive and protective of her. She’d honestly never expected to encounter her soulmate like this, and especially not with Tony in tow. Tony who knew more of her secrets than anyone other than Jane.  

Barnes' face at Tony’s accusation was bitterly remorseful. His eyes flashed to Darcy, boring into her own deeply, seeing the hurt and rejection she’d lived with her whole life. He stepped towards her, his lips parted, she wanted to say something, but any words she could have said were swiftly cut as Tony pushed him back and away from Darcy.

“I said I’m sorry!” his voice is harsh and Darcy thinks she can almost see the threads as he unravels. “But I can’t leave Steve, he needs my help, he’ll get himself killed if I’m not there-”

Tony gabs Barnes and shakes him.

“Rogers lives. You died and Captain America carried on, did just fine without you. You going back, being alive? That could change all of history and just might get your friend killed. Do you want to do that? Risk the future just to butt in where you’re no longer needed?”

Tony’s words were scathing and sharp but no less true for the content.  

“Tony! That’s enough….” she turns to Barnes. “Look, I’m sorry this happened, but you were meant to die, it must feel like your life has been turned upside down, I know. But it’s better than actually being dead, right?”

His eyes settle on her and he shakes his head, she suddenly wants to be anywhere but here. He looks lost and afraid and she can’t help but feel this is her fault.

“Better than being dead? I can’t see my best friend ever again and my soul mate is going back to the future. I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life, I’m over the fuckin moon.”

She recoils like a blow has been struck. He’s angry, of course, he is. She is too. This should never have happened. It’s not fair, but if there is one thing she’d learned in life it’s that it is never fair. She’s toe to toe with him, shaking from anger or cold, she’s not sure which.  

“How do you think I feel? I’ve been shot at, fell through time, nearly got hit by a train and now my soulmate wants nothing to do with me and even if he did I’m never going to see him again! You’re not the only one with a sucky life Barnes but I’m not having a tantrum over it. Suck it up soldier and deal with it. This is life.”

Twin blue eyes blaze at each other before Tony comes between them again and then she ignores Barnes, letting Tony guide her as they get off the mountainside.

It takes six hours to get back to the base. Tony somehow manages to carry them both, flying low and slow until the dark green tents and the wooden barracks appear. They drop down a few miles out, Tony leaving them both sneak in and find Howard. He doesn’t think it will take much to convince his dad of who he is and tells them to stay safe until he gets back.

Barnes stalkes about the clearing they’re in like an angry bear while Darcy does her best to push away the strange grief she feels welling up in her heart. It doesn’t make much sense, really, it’s not like she knows him or is going to get the chance. The wristbands are their only way home, not equipped to carry an extra passenger. Tony had already put the full stop in her unspoken question about her staying. It was a huge no-no, she didn’t belong in this time, he was almost certain the time-stream would rearrange itself around her if she stayed but that it would most likely try to erase her the longer she stayed. He’d made too good an argument for the universe trying to Final Destination her ass to be comfortable with taking the risk.  

“I don't even know your name”  She jerks a little at the abrupt statement, suddenly aware of how close he'd come to her.

    Bucky feels like his world just ended and nothing is ever going to feel right again. When he’d fallen from the train he was certain he was going to die. It was a long way down and in those few moments where he fell he’d almost made peace with his end. The words inked on his arm the only regret he had. He’d wondered his whole life about the girl that would one day try to reasure him.

  See? A whole new start, it’ll be great!

Wondered what he’d say to her, how he’d greet her. Instead of one of the many things he’d hoped he might say he’d pretty much rejected her for someone else. He cringes at the thought that she had spent her life wondering who Steve was to him that he’d refuse her. Now here he was, with the one girl he was made for, who was made for him and he was furious at himself for the cock-up he’d made of it. He runs a shaking hand through his hair, feeling the small ice crystals melt when they come in contact with his hand. It’s freezing out here but he hardly feels the cold. It’s been that way for a while now, not just the immunity to the cold, but the strength and the speed and his senses all sharper and better than they’d ever been. He can see her shivering, even with the long blue coat of his wrapped around her tiny frame.  

God, they haven’t even been introduced properly. He feels like a fool.

“I don’t even know your name.”

She looks up at him, seeming surprised at his closeness.  

“Darcy Lewis.” she doesn’t give him more than that, a brief snippet of knowledge.

“James Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky.” she raises a brow, “I’m sorry for how I reacted back there, for what I said. You didn’t deserve those words. I was just worried about my friend. You gotta understand, I’ve known him since we were kids, he’s like family to me.”  

Darcy sighs. “I get it, I do. Consider it forgiven.” she shivers again and hugs herself tighter.

Bucky feels a twinge of guilt.

“Don’t know how long your friend’s going to be, we could..” he trails off, his hand, held towards her hesitantly, gesturing for something.

Darcy looks at the outstretched hand, it's like a bell in the back of her mind, like deja vu.  

“Look, you’re obviously freezing, come here and we can huddle, share warmth. I know it's a little unconventional, but I promise I’m not trying to make a move.”

Darcy snorted.

“Like I couldn’t take you if I needed to.”

The way she side-eyes him and the little twist of her lips as she delivers the words induce a sudden chuckle. It’s been a while since a dame smacked him down so dismissively. Part of him admires her moxie while a deeper part finds a bittersweet understanding of why the universe paired them. He could see it. How they could be. If life had given them a different path.  

Darcy throws a half-hearted glare his way.

“What, you don’t think I could?”

“Oh, I’m certain you would if I got fresh, Doll. Come here, you’re freezing, no use refusing just to make a point.”

“And if I said no?”

“You could, '' he nods his head. “ But you won’t, you’re too practical and smart to be the kinda girl that’d cut her own nose off just to spite her face.”

“James Barnes, is that a compliment for little old me?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. Of course, she would be full of sass to match his.

“Tellin’ you you’re beautiful would be a compliment. I’m just calling a spade a spade.”

Darcy presses her lips together, refusing to smile and lets him take her hand, he pulls her in close and wraps his arms around her as she tucks her head into his chest. When she realises he really is like her own personal space heater she unashamedly clings to him like a limpet.  

“Getting comfortable, Doll?”

“Digging in, like the spade I am.”

She replies dryly then lets out a tiny giggle and feels an answering rumble of amusement from his chest. His arms tighten around her a little and she sighs, some of the tension bleeding from her shoulders.

“Thanks,” she tells him quietly.  

“Least I could do.” He responds equally quiet. A silence lapses between them but it lacks the jagged edges that it had held before. Darcy breathes him in. It would be so easy, she thinks a little sadly, to get used to this.  

        It’s dawn when Tony gets back to them, Howard in tow. In less time than she’d expected they were in the air and flying over the Atlantic. Tony and Howard are upfront, conspiring away while she’s stuck in the cabin with Bucky. It’s strange watching the man, her soulmate, the little voice in her head whispers, as he sleeps.  

Out there in the snow and ice, he’d been all hard edges and furrowed lines. In sleep the angles of his face softened, he looked younger. She’s not blind, the man has the sort of face you’d expect to see in some lookbook for a model agency. Maybe if he’d been born in her time he’d have found himself doing exactly that or perhaps acting on some cable tv show. He was almost pretty but with just enough dangerous charm to describe him as strikingly handsome. More man than boy, despite the big blue eyes and soft lips. If she had to admit to a type, he was exactly hers. Not surprising considering the words curling up her spine. It doesn’t seem to be something she can entirely dismiss, even when she knows there's no future here for them. Her heart sees him and she feels like the breath is knocked out of her. But even the knowledge that he hadn’t been rejecting her is now more of a burden than a relief. A burden because she can’t help but wonder what could have been. It’s like being given water in a desert and then having someone take it away to pour into the sand. In his sleep, he curls an arm around her and pulls her in close. Darcy lets him, selfishly allowing herself to pretend that this isn’t just a temporary stop along the road. She closes her eyes and rests her head against his chest and cuddles in. Deep inside she thinks they really could have been something.  

The change in air pressure, subtle though it is, is what wakes him. He finds Darcy wedged into his side, fast asleep. He can feel the plane descending. She’s a soft warm, sweet-smelling refuge of hope amidst the raging storm of his emotions. He’s torn. He thinks he should be pushing her away, this is just prolonging and making matters worse. He doesn’t want to get attached. She's going to leave and he’s never going to see her again. His heart, soul? Whatever they want to call it, this connection the universe gave them is pushing him to keep her close and never let her go. It seems the longer they spend in close proximity the stronger the pull is between them. He has no idea where he’s going to go from here. What sort of future he’s going to have, but the unsettling feeling that there isn’t one without her leaves him numb.

“Hey…”

His eyes flick down to meet hers, gazing up at him, sleep heavy and soft. This is what he was meant to wake up to every morning, he thinks, somewhat bitterly before a fond smile, curls around his lips at the cute scrunch of her nose.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Darcy huffs and reluctantly pushes away from him.  

“Please don’t…” she trails off. The way he was looking at her made her heart swell, she could feel herself softening to him with every second. “This wasn’t what I expected…” she pauses and shakes her head. God that was a stupid thing to say, neither of them could have predicted anything like this.

Bucky purses his lips but keeps quiet. He can see her struggle to put her thoughts in order and his Ma raised him to be polite. He let her gather them, seeing the little wheels turning behind her eyes.

“When I was a kid I used to pretend I didn’t have words. I figured it was easier to say I was blank than admit my soulmate didn’t want me… wouldn’t want me. I told it to myself so much it felt true.” It had felt like that. She had cut herself off from any sort of longing to protect herself from the pain of being rejected. It wasn’t something that happened very often, but it did happen. People refused their soulmate, denied the bond and it would fade into nothing, Meeting your soulmate wasn’t a guarantee of happiness, it was just a chance, an opportunity to find the person best suited to you, but it didn’t guarantee love. “I thought if we ever crossed paths we’d both walk away content with the decision. Me happy to let you have what you wanted, you happy not to have some overly emotional drama queen stalking you.”

He could feel her sadness, her eyes were wet and her voice wavered. He gently cupped her face and caught the tear as it trailed over her pale skin.

“But now…. Now it feels like, -”

“Like we’ve been cheated. Like you were given a chance but the choice has been taken away. It was your choice before, to walk away from me when you thought I wouldn't want you.”

“But I didn’t have all the facts. If we’d met in my time… God, everything would be different, we’d still have a choice, an opportunity to ... I can feel it, you know? You feel it too right?”

His thumb stroked over her lip.

“Yeah, I feel it too, s’like magnets pulling together. Never wanted to know someone the way I want to know you.”

The sincerity in his voice struck a chord deep in her soul. She felt the same echo in her own.

“But we can’t. And this… the way you’re looking at me and touching me… I want it so badly but it’s just going to hurt so much more when I leave... if we keep doing this. I can’t afford to get this comfortable with you, I don’t want to... I’ve been hurting my whole life but now it's real and in front of me and I…” Darcy crumples. Maybe she’d convinced herself she’d never have a great love, but it didn't mean she’d ever really stopped wanting it. She feels like every moment in her life leads here, an inexorable inevitable point, fixed and immovable and she doesn’t want it to end.

He gathers her close, feels her tears soaking into his shirt as she cries. She’s breaking his heart. Every bit of him wants to protect her, comfort her; seeing her like this and knowing there is nothing he can do makes him furious at the world, at whatever god consigned them to this tragedy.  

“It’s not fair...it’s not.”  

“I know it’s not, princess. But we’re going to hurt either way. Why not make a few memories to hold onto?”  The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, his mind changed.  Maybe this wasn't going to be a forever, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least hold onto whatever he could get.

Darcy breathes and considers his idea. Maybe he’s right, isn’t this going to hurt no matter what?  

“We might only get hours, a few days at most.” she’s not sure if she's trying to discourage him or begging him to tell her it doesn’t matter, that he’ll take whatever he can get. He doesn’t disappoint her.

“Then we make them count. Enough for the life-time, we could have had.”

Bucky places two fingers under her chin, bringing her gaze to his. Darcy blinks then lets it all go, lets her guard down, and sinks into his eyes. She thinks for a moment she forgets to breathe. His eyes are soft, a warmth in the deep blue. He smiles gently, encouraging an answering smile from her lips.

“Okay.” She finally lets go of the fear, embraces the chance to snatch a few small moments of beauty amid the chaos of their inevitable defeat. How, after all, could you win against time?

“Okay?”

Her smile grows wider at the happiness in his eyes and he hums a little tune. It’s a small thing but it brings a tiny snort of laughter from her, an old song so ironically apt.

“They can’t take that away from me.”

“What?” Her brows rise, was he serenading her?

“The way your smile just beams.” He sang softly, grinning down at her. She giggles.

“The way I sing off-key?” She answers back in kind.

“The way you’ll haunt my dreams… no no they can’t take that away from me.” He presses a kiss to her forehead. “Seventy-five years and people still know that song?”

“I like the Fred and Ginger movies, that one was a favourite.”

“I’d have liked that, taking you to a movie, on a date. Take you dancing somewhere so I could hold you close.”

“You don’t have to dance with me to do that” Darcy wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and Bucky thinks he’s never felt so charmed in his life.

When they finally get off the plane Darcy pulls Tony off to one side.

“I need time,” she tells him.

“Lewis, I swear if I could fix this…” He looks pained, but Darcy just shakes her head.

“No, that's not what I meant. I need time on my own with him, it’s the only chance we’ll ever have and I want to make the most of it, you understand, right?”

Tony sighs. She’s stubborn and fierce and he’s done his best to ignore the way the two had gravitated towards each other once their words were spoken. He knew from his own match that trying to keep them apart would have been pointless so he hadn’t tried, maybe even encouraged it by staying with Howard and letting the man talk his ear off. He gets it, he really does and just once, he can give her this.  

“Think you can keep out of trouble till we get pulled back?” at her nod he continues. “Fine. When the recall alert goes off make your way to Central Park. We’ll meet at the little plaza, it should be deserted enough and open enough for our return back. You’ll have about half an hour to get there so don’t stray too far.”

She surprises him with a quick hug and a whispered thanks in his ear and then he watches as she drags Barnes off by the hand.

    Forty-three hours later her wrist device beeps. Darcy looks at it mournfully and cuddles into Bucky’s arms. He’s spooning her, her body snugly tucked against his. It all feels so monumentally right, the feel of his skin against her, the rhythm of his heartbeat in time with hers, the way each breath between them works in harmony. His arms are wrapped tightly around, holding her fast, she wishes she could stay here forever, in this one perfect moment, suspended like a dragonfly in amber.

“Bucky, baby, we’ve got to go.” His body tenses and he mutters into her shoulder.

“It’s not fair Darcy… it’s not right.”

“I know. But we’ve had this.”

“S’not enough, doll. It could never be enough.”

He growled, tugging her under him as he rolled on top of her. His mouth met hers swiftly, kissing her till she was breathless and clutching him to her as her body sang for his.  

It’s quick and desperate. Two bodies trying to merge deeper than imaginable, both of them attempting to leave their mark on the other. When they peak she cries, even as her body shudders in pleasure. It’s the sweetest torture. To have this and know it will soon be over. She feels his tears on her skin, falling to mingle with her own against her cheeks as he kisses her deeply. She never thought a kiss could feel like this, like hello and goodbye and forever.  

They make their way to the park with a few minutes to spare.  

When she enters the clearing where the little plaza is usually found, all that's there is a wide grassy space with a few benches and a path. It’s a little jarring to see it like this, without the presence of the Searching Soldier the place felt empty, haunted. Before she can think about it anymore there’s the sound of shouting and the retort of a gun. It’s like the lab all over again, only this time it’s Bucky that grabs her and forces her behind him.

“Put the fucking gun away Howard, it’s not going to help!”  That's Tony's voice carrying through the trees.

Tony and Howard burst into the clearing, running, and made a beeline for Darcy and Bucky.  

“Three minutes till we get delorean’d back to the future, Lewis and we’ve got a sorcerer on our ass.”

“What? Like Strange?” A blast of golden light cuts through the trees and they’re thrown off their feet.

“More Voldemort than Dumbledore, but sure.”

“What the hell do they want?” Bucky hisses at Tony.

Tony shoots him his patented “Am I the only smart person in the room” expression and Darcy elbows him in the ribs.

“What do you think? They want to know the future!”

“You’re telling me you managed to get Nazi wizards on our asses in less than two days?”

“Like it’s my fault!”

Darcy glares like she could set him on fire.

“Fine, it’s about 12% my fault, the rest is his,” he tells her, nodding at his shamefaced father.

“Oh god, there’s two of you. Now I can tell Pepper where you get it from!”

Tony scowls as they dodge another blast, running and throwing themselves behind a low wall beside the path.

“What are we meant to do?”

“We just need to stay in one piece till we get yanked back.”

“What about Bucky, and Howard?”

A sudden flash of light behind them as a portal opens sends them scrambling, but instead of danger, the serene face of a woman looks down on them as she emerges from the rip in reality. Her head is bald, her porcelain skin seems to shimmer, and about her neck is the faint green glow of the eye. Darcy recognises it as the Time Stone.  

“Dr. Stark.” she nods.

“Ancient One.”  

Darcy is taken aback at the seriousness of his tone and the respect he gives the woman without question. It’s disconcerting, to say the least.  

Four sorcerers follow behind her and scatter quickly, facing off against the enemy as spellfire bathes the clearing in an eerie light.  

The Ancient One moves her hands in a complicated pattern, a golden dome engulfs them in a protective bubble.

“You are safe now and there is not much time.” She regards Bucky with a sharp eye and traces some unseen line back to Darcy. Her gaze softens as he takes Darcy’s hand in his, moving protectively in front of her.

“You have nothing to fear for your soulmate, Sergeant Barnes, I mean neither her nor yourself any harm.”

“All due respect Ma'am, but I don’t know you and I don’t trust you.”

She nods to him and returns her gaze to Darcy.

“The timeline of this universe has been irreparably altered. I can see why now and perhaps this way is better.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your Sergeant had another path he should have followed, one that still would have ensured you crossed paths here in your future. That way is now lost, since it cannot be recovered, perhaps there is a way to resolve your current predicament.”

“Can you send Bucky back to the future with us?” she asks her hopefully.

The Ancient One smiles mysteriously.  

“In a manner of speaking, yes. But I am afraid your soulmate will have to take the slow path.”

Darcy’s face fell. She had hoped… The watch beeped again, Tony gave her an apologetic look as he held his hand out to her.

“It’s time, Short Stack.”

She doesn’t let Bucky's hand go even as she is reluctantly pulled away by Tony. Bucky seems about to speak, the smallest regretful smile turning his lips and then the Ancient one taps his shoulder just as Darcy's hand leaves his. Bucky freezes, caught in a moment, utterly still as his whole body seemingly turns to stone. Darcy tries to lunge back, a cry of horror ringing out.  

“He will be here, waiting, Miss Lewis. And like any good fairy tale, true love's kiss will break the spell.”  The Ancient One imparts softly.

Darcy doesn’t have time to react to the words before she feels caught up in a whirlwind of motion and the world jerks sharply to the left.

    They come awake together in the lab they left from. Tony tripping over himself to check the machine. The place looks fine, nothing seems out of the ordinary. It’s like the firefight in here never happened.  

“Tony?”

He sweeps his desk for his phone and checks the date.  

“Just as I thought. The same day we left from, it’s lunchtime. We’ve come back before we left. Come on, we better get out of here before we run into ourselves.”

They take the secret elevator out and Darcy follows Tony without question, still half in shock and trying to wrap her mind around the events she’d just experienced.

Before she knows it, they’re back at Central Park. Tony shepherding her along in a daze.  

“It all makes sense now, this is crazy. I mean, you’ve spent every lunchtime here for the last two years... Darcy..., Double D! Snap out of it.”

“He’s been there, all that time?” she finally says, shock and disbelief colouring her tone.

“From the moment we left. He’s been there. Waiting for you.” Tony puts his hands on her shoulders and she doesn’t know whether to sob or laugh.  

“I didn’t lose him?”

“Look, “ he tells her, nodding over her shoulder. She turns her head, as though seeing the statue for the first time. It’s him, it’s really, him.

She looks back at Tony, shaking her head.

“What do I do? What if it doesn’t work… what if-”

“Lewis! Breathe.”  

Darcy curls her hands into fists and sucks in a deep lungful of New York air. She is a well of mixed emotion, confused and hopeful and terrified. It’s almost too painful to believe this is real. That he’s been here, all this time, trapped in a single moment, waiting for her to free him.

    “This is unbelievable.”

“I know.” he agrees soothingly.

“He’s the Searching Soldier”

“Patron Saint of true love and all-around good luck charm. New York may never recover the loss. Pretty sure, lover boy over there accounts for about a quarter of tourist revenue.”

Darcy snorts, a hysterical giggle forcing its way out. Tony only manages to keep a straight face for about a half-second longer than her before they're both howling with laughter. Passers-by stare at them as they walk past. Eventually, breathless and shaking but far calmer, Darcy stops.

An exasperated cough to their right has both turning sharply.

Stephen Strange is dressed casually, a grey jacket with a matching scarf wrapped around his neck, hands stuffed in the pockets.

“I don’t have all day you know.”

“Strange.” Tony gives the wizard a distrustful frown. He dislikes Strange on principle. The man tacks an inordinate amount of pleasure in needling him.

“Stark, Miss Lewis.”

“What are you doing here?”

Strange rolls his eyes, a look eerily similar to Tony’s own” How do I deal with these idiots” sneer crossing his face before he dispels it at the look Darcy throws at him. She is so clearly done with all the shit today.  

“Well, we can’t just let the rest of New York know that a man has been trapped in stone for seventy-five years, can we? Besides, the sudden disappearance of a national treasure would be impossible to hide and the economic impact… what, what? Stop laughing, honestly, Stark, can’t you take this seriously for five minutes?”

“So, you’re here to cover it up.”

“Indeed. Miss Lewis will break the spell, I’ll cast an illusion and Wong will bring the duplicate statue through from the Sanctum.”

“How…”

“Did I know? Well, the Ancient One left a reminder on Wong’s phone. Got the alert this morning and crafted a replacement...”

Darcy shakes her head, tuning Strange out, and faces the statue. She’s put it off long enough. She takes off, leaving Strange and Tony bickering behind her, and crosses the plaza. She only pauses for a moment at the bottom of the plinth before determinedly taking the steps and standing beside him.  

She knows the answer to the question now. The expression on his face had been both I love you and goodbye. She takes his hand in hers and steps closer before pressing her lips to cold stone. For the tiniest instant, she thinks it didn’t work, but then it’s like the world suddenly found its breath and cold marble becomes warm flesh, unyielding stone transmutes to living motion and she faintly hears a gasp before strong arms crush her close. Bucky’s voice, whispering her name, fills her ears and then he’s kissing her as if he’ll never stop and she revels in every second of it.  A Million possibilities open before them. Infinity beckons.

[nymphadoratonks]

free market in the wizarding world

“You’re a wizard, Harry,” Hagrid said. “And you’re coming to Hogwarts.”

“What’s Hogwarts?” Harry asked.

“It’s wizard school.”

“It’s not a public school, is it?”

“No, it’s privately run.”

“Good. Then I accept. Children are not the property of the state; everyone who wishes to do so has the right to offer educational goods or services at a fair market rate. Let us leave at once.”

“Malfoy bought the whole team brand-new Nimbus Cleansweeps!” Ron said, like a poor person. “That’s not fair!”

“Everything that is possible is fair,” Harry reminded him gently. “If he is able to purchase better equipment, that is his right as an individual. How is Draco’s superior purchasing ability qualitatively different from my superior Snitch-catching ability?”

“I guess it isn’t,” Ron said crossly.

Harry laughed, cool and remote, like if a mountain were to laugh. “Someday you’ll understand, Ron.”

Professor Snape stood at the front of the room, his beak-like nose protruding over the silent classroom. “There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don’t expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few who possess, the predisposition…I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.”

Harry’s hand shot up.

“What is it, Potter?” Snape asked, irritated.

“What’s the value of these potions on the open market?”

“What?”

“Why are you teaching children how to make these valuable products for ourselves at a schoolteacher’s salary instead of creating products to meet modern demand?”

“You impertinent boy–“

“Conversely, what’s to stop me from selling these potions myself after you teach us how to master them?”

“I–“

“This is really more of a question for the Economics of Potion-Making, I guess. What time are econ lessons here?”

“We have no economics lessons in this school, you ridiculous boy.”

Harry Potter stood up bravely. “We do now. Come with me if you want to learn about market forces!”

The students poured into the hallway after him. They had a leader at last. Dumbledore's army of economic analysts had been founded.

Harry and Ron stood before the Mirror of Erised. “My God,” Ron said. “Harry, it’s your dead parents.”

Harry’s eyes flicked momentarily over to the mirror. “So it is. This information is neither useful nor productive. Let us leave at once, to assist Hagrid in his noble enterprise of raising as many dragon eggs as he sees fit, in spite of our country’s unjust dragon-trading restrictions.”

“But it’s your parents, Harry,” Ron said. Ron never really got it.

Harry sighed. “The fundamental standard for all relationships is the trader principle, Ron.”

“I don’t understand,” Ron said.

“Of course you don’t,” said Harry affectionately. “This principle holds that we should interact with people on the basis of the values we can trade with them – values of all sorts, including common interests in art, sports or music, similar philosophical outlooks, political beliefs, sense of life, and more. Dead people have no value according to the trader principle.”

“But they gave birth to y–“

“I made myself, Ron,” Harry said firmly.

“Give me your wand, boy,” Voldemort hissed.

“I cannot do that. This wand represents my wealth, which is itself a tangible result of my achievements. Wealth is the product of man’s capacity to think,” Harry said bravely.

Voldemort gasped.

“There is a level of cowardice lower than that of the conformist: the fashionable non-conformist.”

Voldemort began to melt. Harry lit a cigarette, because he was the master of fire.

“The smallest minority on earth is the individual. Those who deny individual rights cannot claim to be defenders of minorities. The minimum wage is a tax on the successful. The market will naturally dictate the minimum wage without the government stepping in to determine arbitrary limits.”

Voldemort howled.

“I’m going to sell copies of my wand at an enormous markup,” Harry said, “and you can buy one like everyone else.”

Voldemort had been defeated.

“He hated us for our freedom,” Ron said.

“No, Ron,” Harry said. “He hated us for our free markets.”

Hermione ached with desire for the both of them to master her, but nobody paid her any attention.

"Girls are a waste of time Ron" explained Harry. "Young men spend time chasing them that they could spend on self improvement instead. At least that's what Jordan Peterson says . And Jordan knows everything. By the time I've read a self improvement book and listened to the Joe Rogan podcast, brief manual stimulation to a selection of pornographic videos is the only intimacy I require."

"But Harry... I'm so lonely.. all of the time.. and I think it's driving me mad.."

"Life is mad Ron. True sanity can only be found in the pursuit of nature. And whilst primitively mankind's biological needs are to reproduce and survive, mankind has evolved. Poverty is our only predator, wealth our one sanctity from the forlorn rags of growing old."

"I dunno Harry.. I think I'd feel a lot better about life if I was shagging Hermione"

"Trust me, Ron, when your expansive knowledge of financial markets lands you a top internship at Gringotts the girls will be forming a queue. Forget Hermione, forget all of the girls at this school. As apex predators we will be able to mate with partners of our choosing. "

They stood in silence now on the top of the astronomy tower. A soft breeze rustled the autumn leaves on the ground below and scattered them silently over the Great Lake. The giant squid swam near the shore, intermittently breaking the surface of the water with a strong crash before returning to the depths below. Ron looked out over the long, long skies of Hogwarts and dreamt of love and romance and the soft touch of woman. He had learned that a man can only be an economist for so long before he longs to be a man again and for music and dancing and girls. Harry began to explain how using game theory he had decided that the Patel twins would make the optimal dates to the Yule Ball and Ron sighed silently. But Harry needed him. His parents were both dead and he'd be all on his own otherwise. And so, in the gryffindor boys dormitory, when the sun goes down at Hogwarts and the immense castle becomes black and silent except for a flicker of a candle and a shadow on a wall, Ron Weasley dreams of Hermione Grainger.

source - durfess, facebook

[jackiexmiller]

"Heeey, my man -- up top!" she'll raise a hand waiting for a high-five over a business-deal well struck, and then completely forget everything about it. They had ideas, often, but it was only the spontaneous on-the-go ideas that they ever actually followed-through with. It was Jackies belief that this had been the exact reason they managed to remain friends for so long. They expected nothing from one another, so they always exceeded expectations. "Van Helen? Any relation to Van Helsing the vampire slayer?" she laughs pleasantly surprised it wasn't a douchier name. "I'm sure she'd do just fine on a road trip, better not as good as me but not to brag, this has probably been the longest I staid 'home' in years." three whole weeks, almost a month. Now that was something.

As he attempts embodying a doctor for a moment, she laughs yet again, and her cheeks will flush at just how much of an idiot he could sometimes appear to be. It was awfully endearing, and charming, even if she did believe it was all a light-hearted facade to cover up for the heaviness of who he really was. "There's nothin' a white coat could give you that you don't already have. Except like...a bomb-ass salary. But you'd be using it to pay off ridiculous amounts of student debt and probably resorting to ASMR anyway so -- there's really no point in a grand scheme of things." she put out the cigarette, eyes on him for a moment before she looked back ahead. She always struggled with eye contact, with looking at people, being looked at. And the matter was only ever worsened when she liked someone. Genuinely liked someone. But she'll squeeze his hand gently anyway, at the passing joke about his dad. She didn't want to add to it, but she wanted him to know she heard -- she understood.

"Oh stop it..." another laugh follows the comparison of her puking to the Exorcist. She had a knack for getting into most embarrassing situations when he was around. Which made for good memories later on, at least. And it made her comfortable to be around him, like no matter how much of herself she showed, it was never too much for him to handle. So when he said he had her back, she believed him. 'Marni. It's always been Marni.' now those words caused an uncomfortable sting, the kind she didn't really understand, so she shifted in her spot slightly and smiled, what else was there to do? "And uh, does she feel the same way?"

Abel’s hand dropped as Jack recoiled, knowing that even if he questioned it she wouldn’t openly explain and so he chose not to press, instead he relaxed as she nudged his shoulder. “That’s a horrifying sentence, but somehow I feel inclined to say i’m in?” Briggs had the bank of Mikaelsons, Lucas had the bank of Gertie, Abel guessed he was about to have the bank of bone breaking ASMR, or at least – a bayou baby could dream. A chuckle eased from his lips at the proposed idea, “hey, I won’t take the van slander. Van Halen is always ready for a trip, I just can’t promise she won’t break down half way there, but hey – it’s about the journey, not the destination right?” Jack’s honesty was brutal but if Abel was being honest and thanks to the slug he was, it was one of the many things he appreciated about her, “those are harsh words Jack, because i’d look really good in one of those white coats and I know words like stat and –” his brow furrowed, “huh, that’s actually the only term I know. Wait, no – prescription, I know that one too” but even he couldn’t keep up that facade for long as he joined her in the full bellied laughter, the force making him a little unsteady as he rocked in his position. “Shit, you’re right. I hate that, but you’re right. Probably just gonna end up like my old man. You know, just without the dead wives and all the kids though” and that was the end of the laughter. The retelling of their horrendous tale from LA was an oddly welcomed distraction and Abel waggled a finger through the air as he grimaced, “I still don’t know how someone so small can produce so much vomit, you know? Like i’ve seen some shit – now like literally, but that was on another level. Choked me off of seafood for life and I don’t scare easily.” His laughter did eventually return and he held up both hands, palms facing Jackie as he quipped, “what can I say, i’m a gentleman first. Plus I didn’t want you throwing up in our ride, cus neither of us had the cash to fix that shit up and that was like full exorsist scenes, I was waiting for your head to spin all the way round.” Shaking his head, his chuckle softened, speaking a little more genuinely now, “I had your back, Jack” before chuckling at his rhyme, “I’ve always got your back. Don’t question that shit” before chuckling at the use of the word shit after Jack’s particularly graphic retelling. Again, his laughter was destined to subside and this time, the softening was accompanied with a sigh as he glanced towards her, physically incapable of holding onto the truth, “Marni. It's always been Marni.”

[cozycryptidcorner]

Here is a monster match for the resilient @moonlightreetops! Information about getting your very own monster match can be found here.

“INFJ, my sun sign is Cancer, moon sign is Pisces rising sign is Sagittarius, also ADHD inattentive soo...  🙃very forgetful due to depression and said ADHD. I'm very empathetic but can get a little too passionate with my emotions sometimes. I cry at every movie I see. No exceptions. I spend most of my time world building or painting for dnd campaigns.  Or reading. I also love hiking with my dogs as it's the only time I really get out of the house. I grew up in professional theater so the drama kid heart in me is still very strong. Whoever's my match needs to be prepared for a little bit of "extra", if you catch my drift.”

Your android isn’t fresh off the production shelves, not by a long shot, but he was tossed away as ‘defective’ shortly after being built. For whatever reason, though, whoever did it was sloppy, since the master switch to shut everything down hadn’t been pressed, resulting in your android being in ‘sleep mode’ for just over a decade. During that time, his software would remotely update, going with the flow of whatever the programmers would write, but his actual hardware could hardly keep up. He soon became an outdated model, as one does in this reality of rapidly evolving technology, and the updates weren’t exactly written for the machinery of his caliber. Yet, for whatever reason, his inner core kept accepting the incoming software, ultimately resulting in something inside him snapping awake.

Both he and you theorize that it must have been the time, plus the updates, and perhaps even the constant exposure to the elements that ignited some kind of self-awareness within his inner core. Or, it could just be a matter of time for all the other androids to follow, as he was without any mechanical checkups monitoring his awareness for quite a long while. Whatever the case may be, he’s present and in the moment, very much alive, and really can’t let many people in on that secret because god knows what will happen to him because of it. While it might be a little awkward for him to plaster a smile on his face and act like a shell, thanks to all the new cybernetic technologies, most androids tend to look and act very human, so he can get away with a lot more than he might of back when he was fresh out of the factory.

Since he was outside decomposing with the rest of the junk, his parts weren’t exactly in tip-top shape. It took a lot of careful, slow repairs to get him to even be able to walk again. Even though his central wiring system seemed to be in working order, most of his limbs and joints rusted over and eroded, so those also had to be either oiled and cleaned vigorously or unscrewed and completely replaced. Tiny seeds and saplings had taken to start growing in the metallic crevices of his body, so those had to be thoroughly washed out, and his standard blue steel had been tinted green with moss. It certainly was a look, that’s for sure, but not something that a functioning android can rock and still be able to stand on both their feet.

One of the interesting things about his type is that his synthetic skin and hair can change color whenever he feels like it, and while he might need the necessary coding for the color, once he has it, he can switch back and forth. Neon pink hair one day, then a muted, plain brown the next, it gives him an edge for blending in with, say, a rave party or a rock concert at a moment’s notice. Not that he needs to run, no, to both of your knowledge, he’s in no danger of discovery. Still, if it should it come to that, his power of camouflage might come in handy. Maybe it was a little shocking when he blinked that one time and turned his eyes blood-red, but you quickly got used to it.

Besides the fact that he can turn his skin blue the moment he wants, he looks like a regular, run of the mill person, as any signs of being made of machinery have been carefully covered up. But, like with most other androids, there are little, tiny ticks that a well-trained person might see. The way he sometimes focuses on something a little too hard, since he can zoom his eyesight in like a microscope, or the way he stands ridiculously still when at rest. Or even how he might know something about someone that may seem strange since he likes to look over a person’s social media profiles while speaking to them.

Your android likes to multitask and often has a very exact schedule for what he is doing and when. For example, he might get off his overnight charging station at five in the morning sharp, though he really doesn’t need to use it anymore, his battery has been replaced by one of those crazy nuclear fission boxes. After getting dressed in some athletic wear, he will then go for a run, not that he has any muscles to work out with. Still, he likes the feeling of the air on his face, but it helps the whole song and dance of being human, as someone will see him do the action and then internalize it without realizing it.

Then, once he gets back, he’ll make breakfast. He can’t eat, and really entirely depends on your tastebuds to do all the work, but his skill vastly improves with everything he manages to make. Once he is done with your breakfast, he will clean, and then exactly at 7:02 am, he will go off to work. His work isn’t exactly the same as, say, an office job with a guaranteed yearly salary. Your android is, after all, technically a non-citizen, and doesn’t have any of the many documents needed to prove that he’s allowed to work. Everything he does has to be under the table and off the radar.

His work, then, is a rather unorthodox way of making money. Freelance stuff, really, things that he can do quickly without having to become a full-time employee. On one end, he does photography, and since his eyes have the nifty little habit of seeing things that a human might not right off the bat, he tends to get some snapshots of things that others don’t. It also helps that he can climb, hide, dodge, and reach places that humans probably don’t want to risk. Climbing to the very top of a building just to get that photo of the sun rising over the bridge? Done, and his editor has no idea how he even managed to get it. Squeezing through a poorly constructed alley to find a nest of pigeons for a piece on animal life in the city? Good thing he doesn’t actually have to breath. It might not bring in the same kind of money as some fancy executive lawyer, but it’s just about all he can do.

Sometimes he might get frustrated when his schedule doesn’t seem to work out because he likes his life to be easy to sort and simple to categorize. It took a little while for him to be able to loosen up about the strictness of which he holds himself, slowing relaxing and allowing life to show him the wonders that is has to offer without chasing something else insistently. His photography began to improve vastly, mostly because he is now looking beyond just the object and the background, he is now looking for the soul outside of the basic image. Like humans, your android does appreciate beauty for what it is, though in a more mathematical, clinical sense. Things like flowers, shells, moon phases, or even weather patterns all hold a unique appeal to him that tends to lean outside of their traditional aesthetic sense.

Your android is very, very grounded in reality. Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t really have a concept of what ‘imagination’ is, but his thoughts, his actions, his hopes are all squarely within the realms of his perceived existence. One of the drawbacks to this is that he doesn’t often allow himself to play along with anyone’s fanciful ‘what if’ scenarios because he will be the first one to let that person know that the idea is bad, and it might get someone killed, or that it’s just not even worth doing. It takes some cajoling to get him to indulge anyone in their fantasies, but he will, if the right pointers are given, and if doing so will help someone get out of their sadness.

One of his favorite activities is to explore the outdoors, whether it be hiking, camping, canoeing, etcetera. As mentioned before, he has a unique appreciation for something organically made, because there is something rather beautiful in the realm of strange frailties. Or, better yet, the impossible perfection that can be reached in something as simple as a snail’s shell. Sometimes he might pause, completely caught up in studying the movement of a bug or the swaying of a leaf in the wind, eyes glued to a single spot in space for however long it takes him to fully comprehend every little detail that he is seeing.

There isn’t really an issue in the bedroom, either, since his brain is basically connected to the internet at all times, any kind of position or move is easy enough for him to search up, comprehend, and then execute with near-flawless precision. That’s all I’m going to say on the subject.

[maybeyoumissthisf-kingpost]

Donald Trump: 4 years, 1 clown, and 25 achievements for the American circus

America has a clown. The guy is good at comedy. Daft. Freaky sometimes. But he is the voice, in the middle of society is a big circus. I'm not talking about the famous Joker Arthur Fleck in Gotham City, but I'm talking about a president of a democratic America. Donald Trump. For years, people called him "the clown" in the White House. Never before has the image of an American president been so indiscriminately spread hate by the media. They use the most disgusting words to describe Trump. They cursed like delirium over his every word and action. But it is he who, despite the ridicule, is the clown who rips through American politics, unmasks all politicians hiding in the guise of democracy, and exposes the monsters lurking in the swamp. So he was hated, even hated. But if you ignore the blind love and hate, what remains in you about the things Agent Orange has done in the past four years?

What the clown Donald Trump has done for America and the world in the past four years

1. America's "aggressive" clown has brought home four (04) Peace Agreements in the Middle East, which no one has been able to do in the past 71 years, despite all efforts to intervene in politics and constant warfare. Still no results. This achievement, so much so that US Defense Secretary Mark Esper had to say that "this is really a great success for Trump".

2. The clown who "doesn't know anything about politics" silenced the world's cynical name, North Korea, without spending a single bullet, helping the United States and the world escape a devastating nuclear war, promoting inter-Korean peace and bring safety to ally Japan and the entire West Coast of the United States - something that made Obama headache unable to find a solution after 8 long years.

3. America's "warlike" clown is the first President in the White House who has not brought the United States into a new war, since Eisenhower's time.

4. The "stupid" clown has rearranged the NATO order, forcing allies to fulfill their responsibility for contributing to their defense budgets, not relying on the US forever.

5. The "cowardly" clown eliminated the world terrorist - Iranian Islamic general Qasem Soleimani of the Quds Force, even though he knew that he would have to face retaliation from the enemy, without Specifically, a reward of $ 80 million for those who successfully assassinate Trump.

6. The "incompetent" clown (according to a survey by ABC News) single-handedly rebuilt the US military's strength to re-establish world order, curbing China's aggression in the East Sea, as well as protecting small countries from threats and invasions from big countries. Who remembers what a crippled U.S. military was under Obama, when 214 key generals and admirals were fired in just his first year in office? Who else remembers how China grew and thrived in the South China Sea under Obama's 8 years? Does anyone remember the president of the world's number one power being sent to the alley after visiting China?

7. The "rogue" clown was the first president to visit and pray at the Wailing Wall and the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem. He was also the first head of the White House to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel and move the US embassy to this city.

8. The "dangerous" clown is the only president who has successfully destroyed the terror named ISIS - the world's largest Islamic terrorist organization to bring peace to mankind. Fulfill his greatest promise to the American people and the people of the world.

9. The clown "religious oppression" is the one who called for an end to religious persecution and signed an executive order promoting international religious freedom, calling for $50 million for programs to quell the violence. religion and persecution abroad, as well as to protect religious minorities.

10. The clown "ruining the US economy" has turned the tide of US-China relations to bring hundreds of businesses back to the US, reduce taxes and protect them from the scheme to steal intellectual property and technology. of China, recovering the ups and downs of the economy from the Obama era, setting a historic record high on the stock exchange, making the economy vibrant again, bringing interest rates to near zero and income per capita highest (since 1967).

11. This "cruel" clown helped Americans pay less in taxes, increasing the tax deduction from $12,700 to nearly double $24,000 per couple, and from $6,350 to $12,000 for singles, with a positive impact. up tens of millions of American pension accounts.

12. The "greedy" clown only received a salary of 1 USD a year during the presidency, in support of cutting government spending and the tax burden of the people.

13. That "racist" clown is the president that provides the most jobs for blacks and Latinos, making their unemployment rates the lowest of all lifetimes. US president. Again, ALL.

14. The "ignorant" clown is the one who sees the lies and injustice in the Paris Agreement (or Climate Change Agreement), pulling the US out of the plot to destroy the coal - oil industry and the risk of widespread unemployment for the United States.

15. The "tricky" clown is the one who stands up to oppose the absurd COVID-19 relief package of the leftist politician, to return the correct amount of support of 2000 USD for each citizen, instead of only 600 USD and the share The rest are distributed to irrelevant useless items.

16. The clown who often creates "hate speech" is the recipient of the most attacks, insults and reproaches from the left (supporters of Socialism in the US). Ironically, he was nominated for the 2021 Nobel Peace Prize.

17. The clown or "disgusting woman" is the President of the Republic who appoints the most female Federal Appellate judges since Ronald Reagan, losing only 1 person compared to the Obama era. If you count the single-term presidents alone, no one appoints as many female judges as Trump.

18. The "liar" clown has exposed the face of hypocrisy in the rest of the world, exposing the entire corrupt swamp of Democrats, and Republicans, FBI, CIA, NSA and Big Tech . The clown tells you things the media wants to keep hidden. He criticized all the bureaucracy in the government. He, simply, just raised the voice of an ordinary citizen in front of the current state of the country.

19. The clown who "failed to fight the Wuhan virus" was the first to call for a closure with China while the left was still struggling about racism and xenophobia. He successfully promoted the process of preparing and producing the Chinese flu vaccine in just ONE YEAR, helping America once again affirm its leading role on the world's scientific and technical map. Don't forget that the world still has no vaccines for SARS, Ebola, bird flu and other diseases under the previous president.

20. The clown who is labeled "dictator", "fascist" or "second Hitler of the world" is the one who gets hit the most by the media. He wants to protect Americans, they call it Populism. He wants America great again, they call it White supremacy.

21. The "perverted" clown has a well-ordered and warm family, a good wife and all children are talented and human; rather than smoke marijuana and join the antifa rebel organization like someone's black daughter; not like the Hunter who was addicted, corrupt and kicked out of someone else's army.

22. The clown who "smashes American democracy" is the one who is most tragically suppressed by that democracy, permanently banned from speaking on social networks and behind the cheers of the left. (including Michelle Obama) – who always preach about democracy and human rights, oppose censorship of authoritarian regimes in the world. When he was in office, he did not forbid anyone to speak. When he was about to leave the White House, they tried to silence him.

23. The Clown DOES NOT "Make America Divide". That division has existed as a smoldering cancer in the heart of America for a long time. The lovable people I know, the respected professors, suddenly defiantly insulting those who do not share their views as stupid, are a disgrace. It's all at Trump? Are not. It is by themselves. Deep down they absolutely disagree with different opinions, whether Trump-Trump or not-Trump, they themselves have divided themselves from those who do not think the same. Trump is not an angel of healing, but tearing down the hypocritical veil of false political correctness and oppressing the true inner thoughts of each person.

24. The "loser" and seemingly "most hated" clown is the most respected man in America according to a Gallup survey, taking the position that Obama has occupied for the past 12 years. While the president-elect with the highest popular vote in history, Joe Biden received only 6% of the support (one-third of Trump), reflecting the exact opposite of the presidential election results.

25. Finally, the clown that everyone considers "arrogant" is a man who bows to God, to the American flag, to prayers for the victims of Hurricane Harvey, to his promise to make America. great again. He does not mock God. He did not burn the flag. He does not stand on the rule of law. He does not consider himself to be the truth. He also did not ordain anything as orthodox. He was not complacent, he just wanted to continue writing the American dream. Therefore, he never let America be threatened and had to kneel before any force.

In just two days, the clown Donald Trump will leave the White House in the joy and ecstasy of vengeful souls. The hatred for Trump is so deep that it doesn't matter who will give his inaugural address on January 20, as long as #NoTrump, the other replacement is anyone, even a person all the time. 47 years of no political achievements. Perhaps, the emotion of love and hate has completely obscured human reason. They are unable to view Trump's legacy fairly, their prisms clouded by overwhelming hatred of an individual. Although they talk about democracy all the time, they are willing to trample on their long-held values ​​to eliminate the opposition from the game. We say, look inside from the outside and see yourself from others, what kind of person you are, you will think others are like that.Life is like a mirror. When you look at people, you can't see people, only you. Now you laugh at the clown, tomorrow you will see your mind reflected there.

Honestly, are you fair to Trump?

All credit goes to trantuansang.com.

[junker-town]

How Carson Wentz went from Eagles savior to benched QB

The relationship between Wentz and the Eagles is destroyed. What happens now?

The fractured relationship between the Philadelphia Eagles and Carson Wentz took another blow on Tuesday with the announcement that rookie Jalen Hurts, not Wentz would be the team’s starter. It was a predictable move after days of non-answers about the team’s quarterback situation, which normally predicates a switch. However, that doesn’t mean it was an easy decision. Apart from hurt feelings and bruised egos, the Eagles now have to manage the worst contract in the NFL, potentially leading to Philadelphia to trading Wentz for peanuts, just to try and keep their finances in order. It’s a remarkable turn to an era that brought so much promise, but how did we get here?

Philadelphia had a brutal decision to make after winning the Super Bowl in 2018. The team had two excellent quarterbacks on the roster, with Wentz being on fire all season long and leading the Eagles to the playoffs, only for Nick Foles to take over due to injury and get all the glory of winning the big one. This left the team with a conundrum: Stay with the player who got them there, or go with the guy who proved he could beat the best teams in the NFL? Youth prevailed, and the Eagles decided to stay with the 25-year-old Wentz, trading Foles to the Jaguars.

In the end it was the right choice. Foles has never managed to recapture the brilliance of his Super Bowl run, but that doesn’t necessarily mean sticking with Wentz was the correct choice either — and that’s where this gets complicated.

Carson Wentz’s contract.

Soaring quarterback contracts have been a concern for every team in the NFL. Knowing that waiting to sign a deal will only end up costing more, teams have instead elected to get deals done early — especially in cases where they believe in the player.

As a vote of confidence, the Eagles extended Wentz early. In June of 2019 he signed a 4 year, $128 million extension that would keep him with the team until 2024. However, that deal won’t even begin until after this season. Right now he’s still playing out the rookie contract he signed in 2016. This means that, assuming Hurts does enough to remain the starter, the Eagles will be paying their backup quarterback over $34M next season.

Obviously this is untenable. If Hurts proves he can carry the load then Wentz’s deal essentially eats up any, and all possible cap room to get the team some much-needed weapons. If Philadelphia were to cut Wentz outright he would cost $77M against the salary cap next season in dead cap space. With a projected NFL cap of $176M it’s not clear if Philadelphia could even field a team for that cost. Meaning, they’re not going to cut him.

Sure, the Eagles could live cheap and keep Wentz on the roster — but this would be a death knell to their chances for 2021 and beyond. This means that the most likely scenario would be trading Wentz, losing a few players in the process as cap casualties, but at least getting something back in return and fixing the team’s finances.

The issue is that every team in the NFL knows the Eagles need to move Wentz. That isn’t a scenario conducive to getting a good return. It also means we could see Wentz traded for as little as a third, or even fourth round pick — which could potentially be a steal for a quarterback-needy team.

Why was Carson Wentz so bad this year?

On the surface this is the biggest conundrum of the 2020 season. Here we had one of the best young quarterbacks in the NFL, seemingly forget how to play football overnight, and seeing his statistics and effectiveness plunge as a result.

Let’s go back to what happened after Wentz signed that big extension. Initially it looked like the Eagles were the geniuses of the NFL. Wentz surged back into prominence in 2019, throwing for over 4,000 yards and playing relatively mistake-free football. He once again showed all the trappings of an elite quarterback, and was signed to a long-term deal that was potentially a steal, considering how quarterback contracts were rising.

However, despite Wentz’s success, the Eagles had significant structural problems on offense. They didn’t have good wide receivers, or a reliable every-down running back — but Wentz was good enough to mask these problems, so long as he had Zach Ertz at his side. We’ve seen this scenario before: Teams without good receivers can make it work, so long as they have an elite tight end. This carried Cam Newton with the Panthers for years, because he had Greg Olsen to rely on, the same goes for much of Philip Rivers’ tenure in San Diego with Antonio Gates at his side, even Tom Brady leaned on this format to a degree with Rob Gronkowski.

The elite tight end format works, but only for so long — and it puts a lot of faith in that guy staying healthy. Here lies the major problem for the Eagles. Not only did Ertz get injured in 2020, taking away Wentz’s only real receiving threat, but the quarterback watched as more of his weapons went away. Nelson Ahgolor left in free agency, taking away a deep threat. Alshon Jeffery has struggled with injuries for much of the year. This left Wentz with Travis Fulgham, who has been better than anyone thought, but still flawed, backup tight end Dallas Goedart — and that’s about it.

To compound issues the offensive line has been a mess of injuries and age. Jason Peters, one of the league’s best offensive tackles for damn near 20 years, was moved to guard in an effort to ameliorate the fact he’s lost a step with age — and starting left tackle Jordan Mailata is still very much a work in progress. Mailata is making the ludicrous leap from Australian rugby league to the NFL, and while he’s been very good, there are still signs the project isn’t near completion.

The Eagles have allowed a league-worst 53 sacks in 2020. When you combine an inability to stop pressure with a lack of elite receivers it’s a recipe that no quarterback could overcome, no matter how talented.

There are behind the scenes problems too.

Wentz has often been described privately as being extremely Type-A. It’s a trait you want to see in leadership positions on NFL teams, but sometimes that assertiveness can be a detriment. The trope of the “quarterback who thinks he knows more than the coach” isn’t new. Heck, this season alone we’ve seen friction in Tampa Bay between Tom Brady and Bruce Arians, but Wentz is a long, long way from carrying the same weight as Brady does.

It’s clear now that Wentz has been butting heads with coach Doug Pederson for much of the last two seasons. Pederson is trying to keep things together and field a team that can win, Wentz is trying to lead the team to victory — but their visions of how this is achieved seemingly no longer mesh.

The Eagles need a full offensive rebuild to get back to prominence, and benching Wentz is as much a sign that the team needs someone they feel can buy in and be coachable, as much as they might need a talented arm.

The relationship between the Eagles and Wentz isn’t bad, it’s completely broken. As a result Wentz is not a bad player, he’s a broken one. The good thing about broken players is that they can be fixed, if there are the right tools.

Who could trade for Carson Wentz?

There are numerous quarterback-needy teams who weren’t bad enough in 2020 to land the top pick and select Trevor Lawrence. Teams potentially wanting Wentz would need a quarterback, and have the salary cap room to absorb his contract. This drastically reduces the number of landing sports.

Jacksonville Jaguars.

On paper this makes the most sense, but honestly, I don’t see it. The Jaguars got burned already by trading for Nick Foles, making trading for Wentz a hard sell for fans. While Jacksonville has the most salary cap space in the league, they might want to try and use that more effectively than adding a quarterback. In addition, Gardner Minshew has been playing extremely well when healthy.

Chance: 5 percent

Indianapolis Colts.

The Colts are showing they’re still a really, really good team — and have a good chance at making the playoffs. However, Philip Rivers isn’t going to be able to last forever, and Indianapolis should know it.

Trading for Wentz might seem ridiculous, and it kind of is, especially when the team doesn’t need a quarterback right now, but it might be the kind of move that solidifies the organization for the years to come.

Chance: 15 percent

New England Patriots

This is the scenario so obvious you could see it from a mile away. New England need a long term quarterback, and signing Wentz and turning him into “a Patriot guy” is so obvious it hurts. Typically you’d see a Type-A guy like Wentz and assume he’s the antithesis of what New England would look for, instead opting for guys who buy into their system — but in signing Cam Newton the Patriots showed they’re more open to taking risks than in the past.

Wentz wouldn’t inherit great weapons in New England, but Bill Belichick could be just what the doctor ordered to turn his career around. That said, I still think this is an outside possibility — only because it’s not like the Patriots to take big risks when it comes to money, and trading for Wentz would be taking on a lot of salary obligations.

Chance: 35 percent

Washington Football Team

The Eagles would be loathed to trade Wentz to a division rival, but Washington makes all the sense in the world. WFT firstly have the cap room to absorb the contract, and coach Ron Rivera has shown a past willingness to cede offensive control to people who know more about it than he does.

Wentz would be the big personality the team needs on offense. Offensive coordinator Scott Turner worked with Cam Newton in Carolina, and knows how to deal with big personalities. With WFT losing faith in Dwayne Haskins this could be the exact move the team needs, especially considering how good their defense is.

Chance: 45 percent

[forestwater87]

Can I have my boi David and tiny little turn ons and things that make his heart flutter - campcampman B)

I believe I’m a little predictable. But at least I’ve got a market, and I love you all!

When they discover they’ve got a crush:

David’s a simple man.

I’m not saying I don’t think he’d have any sort of fears or insecurities about liking someone, but I also feel like he doesn’t think that deeply about it. He likes someone, he enjoys being around them. I’m not even all that confident how romance factors into it; he sort of strikes me as a “if we’re together, I’m happy!” kind of fella.

How they confess/hint:

“H-hey, um, _____? Listen, I, ah, I was wondering if you might — well, I realize it’s short notice but I thought it might be fun if we … maybe … wentoutonadatenookaythenbye!” *zooms away*

Not very smooth, is what I’m saying.

Big gestures of love:

The man wears a fucking boutonniere on a date. 

He goes HAM with the big gestures. I’m talking flowers, I’m talking candles, rose petals, probably a band or quartet of some sort. The man will use his tiny camp salary to blow you away with romance. And when he has no more money he’ll make a picnic and take you out under the stars and show you how beautiful the forest is at nice.

He’s a bit of a hopeless romantic.

Little gestures of love:

I’m not confident David has little gestures of love. The man has 2 modes: thoughtful and sweet, and a total inconsiderate asshole. He’ll completely forget your anniversary because he was busy staring at butterflies or something, but he’ll also drive 20 minutes out of his way to find the exact brand of chocolate you like when you’ve had a bad day.

How to win their heart:

Do you like camping? Do you like nature? Do you like kids? Do you like anything? 

No? It’s okay, David loves you anyway and is probably choosing to gloss over or ignore the fact that you don’t like the same things he does. I’m pretty sure the only people in canon he doesn’t like are Jermy Fartz and Jacob, so don’t be a nasty unpleasant child who makes out with dogs and don’t date his ex-girlfriend and you should get on like a house on fire.

How to break their heart:

Why would you ever want to do that, you monster?! He’s so sweet and fragile!

But I do think homeboy has some abandonment issues. Rejection seems to hit him pretty goddamn hard (when it sinks in; see the glossing-over bit from the last question), and I think feeling unwanted would be enough to break the boy.

Tiny little turn-ons:

I think he’s a bit of a princess. He likes to feel special and that’s probably the quickest way to win him over. He also loves cuddles and hand holding (it’s like a hug for your hands!) and little affectionate kisses on the nose/forehead/cheek/hand.

*coughs* Okay I also headcanon hard that he’s an ass man. I’m sorry, I just do.

Big turn-ons:

*turns to Massive Pile O’ Gwenvid Smut* Um … being called “sir.” But also is a total switch and very naturally submissive. Neck kisses/hickeys/being marked. I like to think (stolen from @ciphernetics​, as are all my best things) that the scars he’d have on his hands from being stabbed are really sensitive.

I wrote a whole collection of sexuality headcanons for this man, please consult that or aforementioned Massive Pile O’ Smut for more. I think those are the big ones, though.

Things that make their heart flutter:

Friendship! Just overt expressions of affection in general, and for people less obviously sweet like Gwen ohhoho I am the trash queen I imagine he learns how to read between the lines and pick up when someone’s genuinely trying to show him they care, and he appreciates things like that.

But being pulled into hugs/kisses and picked up like a sack of potatoes and just general snuggly goodness? I think that’d make him melt, because while I don’t necessarily imagine he’s touch- or affection-starved, he’s obviously a very tactile person.

Their type:

WE KNOW THIS! It happens to be smart-mouthed, tough, dark-skinned women who could probably kill him. I also think he has a thing for big teddy-bear-type guys, but canonically? David wants a lady who could snap him in half.

Ideal date:

The forest! Probably a picnic or a nice meal followed by a long walk in nature (I could see him liking walks on the beach, the fucking cliche. What a dork). But I also think he’d really enjoy planning a date, like cooking a meal or setting up a thing; it’d probably remind him of planning camp activities, and he just seems like the kind of person who loves running things.

Past relationships:

Nope. Pure undiluted virgin. Maybe kissed someone in highschool, but it wasn’t something he especially enjoyed, so while he entertains crushes and *ahem* the like, I have a hard time imagining him having had a ton of relationship experience, both because he’s just so painfully innocent-seeming and because … I mean, who outside the fandom would want to date him?

How they might affect current relationships:

He’s very nervous about getting things right, and does absurd amounts of research on everything from navigating the first fight to how to perform anilingus. Asks lots of questions, is very quick to backpedal and skittish in general, must be led by the hand, but is also ridiculously enthusiastic about everything and eager to learn. Feels … lucky, kind of, to be given the chance by someone so swell, and he really wants to make sure he doesn’t mess it up.

‘Goals’ in a relationship (marriage, kids, a house, etc):

Yep. Those are the ones. I feel like David’s very much a “been planning his wedding since he was 5 years old” kinda person. Hugely romantic, and while I also think he’d end up being very happy in a less traditional lifestyle, I’m not sure it would even occur to him without some kind of catalyst. There’s something about him that seems a little bit old-fashioned, I guess.

Any other love headcanons:

He just wants to be loved. He has so much love to give and things never seem to quite work out, but he’s confident that they will! He’s a great believer in the power of positive thinking.

Oh, and he was absolutely in love with Jasper. At the very least harbored a serious crush. I will not be swayed on this one.

[thegoose5150-blog]

What's a Good Quality Score for Each Type of Keyword?

When it comes to Quality Score everyone wants a 10. But for certain types of keywords, that's about as likely as WordStream doubling my salary to drink bourbon and grill dry-aged ribeyes on a veranda overlooking Lake Winnipesauke. We can dream, but it ain't gonna happen.

You see, when you add a new keyword to your account, Google automatically assigns it a starting Quality Score of 6. From there, a combination of factors, including expected CTR, ad relevance, and landing page experience, will determine whether that score sinks or skyrockets. But not all keywords are created equal.

Today, we're going to talk about what constitutes a good Quality Score depending on what kind of keyword you're bidding on. Viewing this key AdWords metric in context will help you identify the right keywords to focus your optimization efforts on.

Here's a high-level overview of what you'll learn today:

A good Quality Score in AdWords depends on what kind of keyword you're looking at

A good Quality Score for branded keywords is between 8 and 10

A good Quality Score for high-intent commercial keywords is 7 to 9

7 is a good Quality Score for low-intent keywords

Aim for a Quality Score of 3+ on competitor keywords

Prioritize raising your Quality Score for high-intent keywords first

Now let's dig into this topic in a little more detail, including a quick recap on how Quality Score works.

What is Quality Score?

For those of you who are new (or could use a refresher), Quality Score is the metric Google uses to determine the quality (duh) and relevance of your ad copy and landing page in relation to a given keyword. It's then used to calculate your cost per click (CPC) and ad rank for that keyword. The higher your relevance and your Quality Score, the better your ad rank and the less you pay every time someone clicks on your ad.

This makes Quality Score really important to your AdWords performance.

Also important to your performance-from a conversion and ROI standpoint-is intent.

If you sell mugs decorated with witty phrases, the keyword buy novelty mug is inherently more valuable to you than, say, mug or what are mugs. While those last two are relevant (ish) to your business, they're not commercial; those searchers are very unlikely to buy anything from you.

As such, time spent trying to improve your Quality Scores on broad, informational keywords will have much less of an impact on your bottom line than optimizing high-intent keywords that lead directly to action.

Believe it or not, this holds true for businesses outside of the highly competitive ceramic drinkware industry, too.

The 4 Kinds of Keywords

For the purposes of this exercise, we can divide keywords into four major groups: brand, competitor, high intent, and low intent.

A branded keyword is a layup. No other advertiser can use your brand in their copy (it's against Google's guidelines) and it's unlikely that a competitor's using your name in their URL or on a landing page.

On the other end of the spectrum, it's almost impossible to get a Quality Score of 10 when bidding on your competitor's name; for New Balance to outrank Nike on a search for Nike, they're going to have to pay an arm and a leg.

Between the poles of brand and competitor, we can split keywords into two groups: low intent (typically informational or navigational searches) and high intent (commercially relevant keywords, the ones that lead to conversions, the backbone of your AdWords account. Need I go on?). Both are important to your overall AdWords success (if you use remarketing, cheaper low intent keywords are a great way to create audiences and drive conversions down the road), but treating them as equals is a waste of your time and money.

With that, let's look at what a solid Quality Score looks like for each type of keyword (and talk about how to improve them if you're missing the mark).

What's a Good Quality Score for Branded Keywords? 8+

Even though your website should be the first thing that shows up in the organic results when someone searches for your business, there's a big old chunk of real estate above the organic listings that your competitors are welcome to claim. (And the above the fold real estate on brand searches looks even more commercial on mobile devices.) Fortunately for you, competitors need to pay a premium to do so.

That being said, many of them are ready and willing.

For this reason, you need to bid on your own keywords. The required investment is small-especially compared to some of those high intent keywords (we'll get to them in a minute)-but dominating the SERP pays dividends. You can basically sleep your way to a high Quality Score for branded campaigns. That means if you're not seeing at least an 8, something has gone horribly wrong (don't worry, it's fixable).

Think about the contributing factors. The expected CTR should be high since the search was for your brand (intent city) and your ad couldn't be more relevant. The only potential detractor is landing page experience, which is impacted by a combination of content, structure, and load time.

Check out this New Balance ad that surfaces when I search for the brand and nothing more (can you tell I love leisurewear sneakers yet?).

The copy isn't salesy outside of an obligatory shop now in the description. The rest of the ad speaks to the brand's heritage (Since 1906, For more than 100 years) and ad extensions are used to share additional value propositions and links to high-traffic pages.

Guess what? You can do this, too.

Simply speaking to your prospects and sending them to a relevant location will yield a high Quality Score, making your branded keywords dirt cheap on a CPC basis.

Tips to Improve Quality Score for Branded Keywords

Ensure that your landing page loads quickly with the Google PageSpeed Insights tool.

Don't be afraid to tout your brand's distinguishing factors in your headlines, even if it means relegating your CTA to the description .

To dominate the SERP, add as many relevant ad extensions to your branded campaigns as you can; this will help prospects navigate to more relevant pages and push competitors further down the page.

What's a Good Quality Score for High-Intent Keywords? 7-9

High-intent commercial keywords are the most important subset of keywords in your AdWords account. They also tend to be the most expensive. As a result, high-intent keywords are the area in which maximizing Quality Score will have the greatest impact on performance.

Whether you're a merchant of $15 skinny jeans or $25,000 software, high-intent keywords are those search terms that convey clear intent to do X, where X is your conversion objective.

Let's say you sell flowers online and, two days before his mother's 49th birthday, a terribly forgetful son needs to send something that will elicit a smile. He types buy flowers online into Google and sees

What do you notice about these ads? What do they have in common?

The ads are relevant and feature CTA's for days.

Even 1-800-Flowers (who have brand recognition for days) uses the search term in their copy. You'll also notice a smattering of dollar signs and deals, all of which exist to entice a searcher into clicking. These advertisers are specifically attempting to improve their expected CTR for the term buy flowers online.

Before Google even considers the landing page experience component of the Quality Score calculation, each of these advertisers has made a concerted effort to optimize for ad relevance and CTR. This means that two-thirds of the contributing factors are accounted for, making a QS of 6 or 7 attainable through diligent ad testing and good account structure alone.

Landing pages are trickier to tackle from a resources perspective, but if you can ensure speed and relevance, you're going to please Google's algorithm. For your high-intent keywords, try to build out single keyword ad groups and implement ad group level landing pages. While this can be a major hassle (not to mention expensive), ensuring semantic relevance and fast load times is the best way to improve this crucial component of your Quality Score. For the keywords most likely to impact your bottom line, it's totally worth it.

Tips to Improve High-Intent Keyword Quality Score

Use Single Keyword Ad Groups (SKAG) to isolate high intent terms. This gives you more control over your bid and allows you to implement the exact term in your ad copy.

Have dedicated landing pages in place for your most valuable keywords.

Include your target keyword in your ad at least twice, but don't overdo it! I suggest using it in the first headline and again in the URL paths; use a related term in the description to add emphasis without coming off as spammy.

What's a Good Quality Score for Low-Intent Keywords? 7

Low-intent keywords aren't unimportant. In fact, they form the foundation of any great remarketing campaign (and can be used to forge successful Lookalike audiences in Facebook). That being said, most SMBs and overworked agencies simply don't have the time to push Quality Scores to 10 across the board.

Let's say you're running the AdWords account for an online MBA program. This is a ridiculously expensive niche, with stiff competition and CPC's commonly exceeding $30.

That's why I'm suggesting you set a more realistic target: aim for a Quality Score of 7 on your non-branded, top-of-funnel keywords.

Google's baseline Quality Score of 6 is faux optimism on their part; it's almost guaranteed to go down from there as soon as you record a few hundred impressions. Why? Think back to those contributing factors again.

Google cannot determine your CTR if a keyword is brand new. If you're lumping comparable keywords into a single ad group (instead of using the SKAG I mentioned earlier), you'll never maximize the landing page experience component outside of load time. That leaves only ad relevance, which can suffer from the same keyword oversaturation that may plague your ability to max out landing page performance.

From a business value standpoint, it simply isn't worth your time and money to invest in trying to max out Quality Scores for informational or navigational keywords. That being said, you can make strides towards reaching a Quality Score of 7 for your low-intent keywords by crafting irresistible CTAs (like we talked about earlier) and ensuring a well-laid-out account structure.

This means no more than 20 keywords per ad group. They need to be related by some common thread; whether that's semantic or thematic is your call, but ensuring similarity will allow you to ensure ad and landing page relevance without stretching yourself too thin.

Tips to Improve Quality Score for Low-Intent Keywords

Try to implement campaign-level landing pages; this will ensure contextual relevance (allowing you to answer a prospects' questions) without getting too granular and wasting optimizing for terms that don't tie back to revenue.

Split your keywords into tight, organized ad groups that can be more effectively tied to individual campaigns and landing pages.

Outside of using a keyword (or close variant) in your ad copy, focus on improving CTR by testing CTA's in your first and second headlines.

What's a Good Quality Score for Competitor Keywords? 3+

Finally, we come to the most challenging subset of keywords (at least in terms of Quality Score): your competitors' branded terms.

Everything that works in your favor when bidding on your own brand is now reversed; your lack of relevance, at least as Google sees it, means you need to bid up if you want to show up. A Quality Score of 3 or better in a competitor campaign means you're killing it. That's because your only real weapon-outside of your own brand recognition-is irresistible ad copy.

Let's dig into an example

Here's a SERP for the search query HubSpot:

HubSpot doesn't have an ad on this page, but they're the first organic result (remember what I said about all that real estate? Read 'em and weep). Both competitors with ads served for my search are deploying similar tactics-hammering home difference in cost and a demo offer-with one exception. One is attempting to trick Google's Quality Score algorithm (and searchers, for that matter) by implanting an alternate spelling of HubSpot. Don't do this. While it may save you a buck, it may result in ad disapproval or suspension (plus the dishonesty is a bit uncouth).

Instead, focus all your efforts on crafting headlines that can't be ignored and CTA's that make your competitors' offering look obsolete.

Tips to Improve Your Quality Scores for Competitor Keywords

Use RLSA to increase bids for searchers who have already visited your website; they're worth paying a bit more for because their search habits indicate that they're shopping around.

Test your CTAs constantly to find out what maximizes CTR: this is the key to a QS 3 or higher.

Say something outlandish in your first headline to draw attention away from the organic search results.

Conclusion

Improving your Quality Scores isn't a one-time thing: it's a constant process. For each type of keyword, you should be aiming for the following Quality Scores

Branded: 8+

High Intent: 7-9

Low Intent: 7

Competitor: 3+

While a well-manicured account structure and great copy can go a long way towards establishing success, the nature of expected CTR is such that continuous testing is the key to maintaining enviable Quality Scores across the board.

About the Author

Allen Finn is a content marketing specialist and the reigning fantasy football champion at WordStream. He enjoys couth menswear, dank eats, and the dulcet tones of the Wu-Tang Clan. If you know what's good for you, you'll follow him on LinkedIn and Twitter.