KEVIN CAN F**K HIMSELF | 1.03 We’re Selling Washing Machines

#About me 

Euphoria: “Trying to Get to Heaven Before They Close the Door”

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018) dir. Susan Johnson

fact: crushes were stupid.

also a fact: darcy'd had one, once. it was long ago, with multiple degrees secured between when it had ended and the present. it was over, a finite end.

except... she hadn't actually been in a room with scott bishop since she'd graduated from coolsville high at sixteen years old. and even just standing there, vaguely in his presence, there were certain indicators that she wasn't as immune to romantic feelings as she'd believed.

how did that work? barely knowing someone and yet feeling drawn to them anyway? once upon a time, darcy'd developed feelings because he'd been nice to her at a time when others were very much not, a small act of kindness meaning so much that it broke through her defenses. did she know anything about him other than what was reported in the school paper? no! and yet, the feeling of butterflies in her stomach continued during the handful of times they spoke.

but why? and why were the butterflies beginning to flutter their wings yet again (eight years later), when there was zero grounds for the action? it made no sense! darcy was a woman of science, but not of neuroscience or psychology. love (or even just like) was a mystery to her.

which was why seemed so uncertain when, at his clap, she moved to sit in a chair near him. she was at the community center with one goal in mind - finding out what happened to charlotte blackwood - and she would not be derailed from her mission. but deep down, she was fighting to speak up, having traveled back in time to her senior year of high school.

"yes, let's," she started carefully, not bothering to take a moment to say hello first. why was scott there? why did he care? it was time for the q&a portion of the morning. "how do you know charlotte?" present tense. she could be optimistic!

where: the coolsville community center who: scott bishop and open

Scott had woken up that morning for the first time in a while with a sense of invigoration. For the first time in a couple of weeks (hell, a couple of years), he felt good about the day. It offered something that wasn't the same monotonous thing. As he made his breakfast, dished up a plate for his younger brother (who knew fourteen year old boys could eat so much), he was buzzing. It would be too much to say he was excited, especially in the climate of the last two weeks with Charlotte missing but Scott couldn't help it. He'd even brought snacks.

Those same snacks were laid out in the middle of a lone table in the community centre, only touched by him. Wasn't hard to do when there was hardly anyone in the room. He had been the second person to arrive, glad to know he'd gotten the right place at least. A few other people had trickled in since but the group seemed to be milling about in silence. The awkwardness just wasn't something Scott could deal with.

Giving a loud clap to get everyone's attention, he leaned back in his chair. "Should we get this show on the road?" he asked before really noticing how many empty chairs there were. Maybe not.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone dir. Chris Columbus | 2001

a closed starter for @beabracknell

darcy had been back in coolsville for months, and yet she'd done an excellent job of avoiding those she did not wish to see.

a certain amount of that was because she was an introvert, much preferring to stay in on a friday night, reading, than to be out and about. but her complete and total avoidance of a one bea bracknell had been purposeful, a result of ducking out of sight when she spotted a once familiar face in passing. not going anywhere that held memories that darcy was not yet ready to confront.

it had been years, and she still was not over the fight that had changed the course of their lives forever. the day that she'd said something unforgivable, her insecurity causing her to lash out at the one person she thought she'd have in her life forever.

so it was a surprise, clearly, to see the girl in the room at the community center that morning. to (from a distance) study her face, changed by the years, but still that of the girl who'd known all of her secrets in elementary school, who had stood by her side even through relentless bullying. for a moment, darcy had been happy to see her. and then she remembered. retreated. back into the girl she'd become over the last eight years away.

"what are you doing here?" she asked once the inevitable finally happened and they came face to face, mentally cringing at how her words had come out so wrong. force of habit, it seemed. but though they'd been blunt, there had still been genuine curiosity in her tone.

darcy warren. the brains. 24. research scientist.

intro. pinterest. playlist. muse inspo.

You know what I need? I need someone to translate five pages of archaic Latin. Obviously, that’s not gonna happen anytime soon.