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freeserburnâ:
closed starter for @caseyfmâ
Walking into the Pit had never been this kind of nerve-wracking before. With Casey behind the bar, it was pretty much as close as you could get to a safe space in Cherry. He was her safe place to crawl home to whenever things went wrong. Casey and Mac. It was only natural for muscle memory to land Freyja at his doorstep before she had even thought through everything. What was she meant to say? At least running into Mackenzie meant it was understandable not to have a speech planned out. As if she wouldnât have spent every second thinking about what to say to them if she had actually left of her own free will. Showing up to Caseyâs door without anything prepared? Well, that didnât look good. All Freyja knew was that she had to be the one to tell him about being back in Cherry. No Chinese whispers that ended up hurting them worse than any awkward fumble here could. Sheâd be standing in front of him, telling him as much of the truth as she could comprehend. That had to count for something, right? Jumbled and crazy as it was.
If the wound of their fight over not telling the truth about Candy Girl that night wasnât so fresh, Freyja would have just lied. Sure, I left. Let them be mad at her for a while and hopefully understand. At least they wouldnât look at her like she was crazy. However, sitting and waiting for them to come back around wasnât exactly something that felt doable. Flashes of Casey lying in the hospital bed, the fact she could have lost him and they were mad at each other. It wasnât something she could go through again. How guilt lashed out at Mackenzie that night. The brief flash of âis this the end of us?â through her mind.
If the thought of losing them stung that much, she didnât even want to imagine how it would feel to actually walk away and just wait for them to come around. Let the universe punish her for something she never did. Knowing someone better than you know yourself was a double-edged sword. There was all the beautiful and wonderful that she knew of them, but now there was a dark thought looming over her. The way to hit both of them right where it hurt was to abandon them. Leave after all the years she spent swearing she wouldnât. Casey was one of the most stubborn people she knew. There was the possibility they never forgive her. Crazy rambling or cop-out lie, it was possible that neither option would really be enough. All she could do was try. At the very least, she needed a drink.
If it were any other situation, Freyja would have had some witty opening line. Something to crack that smile she had gotten too used to. Anything to stop the look on his face she was anticipating as soon he laid eyes on her. âHey, Case.â Long time no see, the bitter joke in the back of her mind.
âĄïž
Casey had never taken too kindly when people up and left only to later reappear. Heâd learnt it with their dad the first time heâd left - when Casey had filled in the gaps with a kinder version of the Russell patriarch - only to be sorely disappointed on the return. Admittedly, however, heâs always been weaker than tough exterior would let on. Perhaps thatâs why when the bell first âdingsâ above the doorway of The Pit to signify they have a patron and in walks a very familiar face, Caseyâs first thought isnât the anger that Freyja had left so soon after the lake house debacle but the pure joy that Freyja Freese has returned to Cherry just like sheâd left. Unannounced. Unexpected. Perhaps thatâs why when she first walks in, heâs half tempted to cling and never let go this time. At least that would prevent her from slipping out the door. âNah,â he sniffs. âYou donât get to âhey, Caseâ me, Freyja. You left us.â Suddenly, pettily, itâs like heâs putting up a front against everything heâd said when their ghost hunting adventure had gone awry at the CherryPlex. Freyja had never been a shitty best friend... up until the point sheâd abandoned them. âOr is that... like... going to be completely disregarded? Kinda like I-we were?âÂ
#interactions ft » freyja.#somehow my writing has become /more/ dramatic since being away but u know what#we'll roll with it xoxo
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harvard ii or harvard iii?
"So, hereâs the thing, right... between my actual dad and my stand-in dad Iâve never really had a positive role model and Harvard Hargrove was always kinda nice to me...? I guess? But Iâd still take Harvey over him any day. Hell, if Harvey asked nicely and had even half a good reason, Iâd jump off a cliff for him if it came to it. Which I definitely  probably wouldnât do for Hargrove senior â no offence to him.âÂ
( @harveyiiiâ )â
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harvey or elaine?
"They've both meant so much to me at different points of my life that this feels a little unfair but... it has to be Elaine. She was the first person who just got it. Got me. Which is probably a bit mean because I never really expressed the way I felt to Harvey about how competing with each other felt like I was just building myself up to burn out by pushing myself to be something more than I am to just be worthy of being his friend but... Iâve never felt like that with Elaine. She was always a safe space to land when things have got tough and that meant the world to me. Still does.âÂ
( @harveyiii @elainefm )Â
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THIS OR THAT?
Hi, Fighting Cherries! Itâs been a hot second, and I know youâre all being busy little bees at Homecoming tonight⊠but I figured we could play a little game to catch up! Welcome to THIS or THAT! Â
Be sure to reblog this bulletin post if you feel like participating, and check out the cut if you need an example of how to play! Have fun - and as always, make sure you send out twice as many as you receive!
To play This or That, youâre going to send two things to any certain player and make them choose between the two! For example, if someone sent me âHarvey or Libby?â Iâd obviously answer, âHarvey!â because nobody needs more Loser Logan in their life than necessary! Get it?
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harveyiiiâ:
WHO: HARVEY AND ANYONE WHAT: HEâS PRETENDING FOR HIS DAD, so like you could call him out, or tell him you donât care, or idk, heâs just an emo boy getting ready for his football game WHERE: THE POTLUCK
Harvey had always felt this deep responsibility in his bones to be the life of the party. He was Harvey Hargrove The Third - he was the man with the house, and the life, and everything everyone wanted. He was the captain of the Football team, and president of the Fraternity. Maybe that was what made it so easy to float through the potluck, and why it was so easy to fake the cheesy grin dipped over his lips.Â
Wasnât it only right to pretend that he was having the time of his life with his privilege? Wasnât it only right to put on a show?Â
The truth was that Harvey didnât really know. Regardless of his knowledge of the nuance of Public Appearances, though, he knew the feeling of his fatherâs eyes on the back of his head like he knew his ABCâs, and that meant⊠pretending - well, for as long as he could in the face of the Gang. Even if not all of them were his friends right now.Â
It was easy to see the way his perfect mask fell the moment he locked eyes with [INSERT NAME HERE] - even if the smile never left his lips. It was just a little more hollow now: like he was caught. Playing pretend again, Harvey Hargrove? Shame on you.Â
âHey,â Harvey choked the words out over the table of Chili that separated them; they lingered for a moment, before falling and bubbling into one of the stray crockpots: âSouthwest Style - spicy!âÂ
âHeâs not looking is he?â When in doubt, bring up your Daddy issues, right? Harvey peeked over his shoulder. âGod forbid I have to hear another speech about crushing the Stompers tonight. Donât know if heâs been trying to quote Varsity Blues all day, butâŠâÂ
âHeâs doing it.âÂ
âĄïž
Heâs been avoiding Harvey since the lakehouse. Which is a remarkable feat given 1) they now share a campus and 2) they now share a football team. But Caseyâs been doing remarkably well at holding his tongue for someone who usually canât shut up. Last time heâd opened his mouth in front of the other there was a comment about his father spilling out. With all the venom that Harveyâs effortlessness had carried when they were younger but none of the real bite. And itâs the same now as he breezes through the crowd. Except itâs âheâs not looking is he?â and theyâre thirteen again standing somewhere not too dissimilar to this and heâs keeping an eye out for the watchful eye of Hagrove senior, trying to coax the other boy into doing something stupid with him after a game because his own dad certainly didnât care at all as to what Casey got up to. And itâs funny in a way because the resentment heâd felt then (bubbling away in his gut; always needing to prove that he could shine just as bright if he tried) doesnât feel the same now. Now heâs just happy to be playing alongside Harvey.
Even if he doesnât say it.
Couldnât now. Too much time has passed (hasnât it always) and the words wouldnât come out right if he tried (they never do).
Skirts his thumb around the outer edge of the crockpot, careful not to burn it on the rim. âFootball is a way of life,â he comments gruffly, in his best Hargrove impersonation, mulling over the way the words sound before his lips pull down at the corners as he seems pleased with what he hears. âYâknow, I can see it. Probably has the script over there... behind his back... takes out the reading glasses while he goes over the intonation when your backâs turned so he can get it just right.â He kind of wishes he had a script right now. Maybe then âsorryâ would come out more palatable. Prettier. âAlways struck me as a rehearsal guy.âÂ
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thewriter-noahâ:
who: @caseyfmâ what: A little brotherly chatÂ
And so it continued. The painful dancing around topics that neither of them seemed ready to discuss. The time spent at The Pit felt hallow and quiet. And it wasnât lost on Noah that he wasnât sure he and his brother had made eye contact since their time at the lake house. Even in all of his efforts to try and make things right with Elaine and with Zev, heâd never felt further away from any sort of resolve. And while he wanted to believe the likes of Rory or Mac, something about how things had gone this time had him feeling so far away. But all of that aside, he sure as hell wasnât going to miss his brothers big night. His brother was going to be taking the field tonight and that felt like something to put his feelings aside for. A huge undertaking considering it meant showing up for the pre-game tailgate of all things. It wasnât Noahâs scene by any means but he was managing as he made his was through the crowd in search of his brother, eyes scanning through faces of students until he finally spotted the back of an all too familiar blonde head of hair. âHey!â He half shouted, as he grabbed his brothers arm to get his attention. âI just wanted to say, good luck tonight. Iâm sure youâre going to kill it.â He started, hoping heâd be in a slightly more light hearted mood all things considered. âPlease try not to get your ass kicked.â Â
âĄïž
For all intents and purposes, he carries the scowl on his face like itâs some kind of weapon. Which really is just Caseyâs way of disguising his nerves. The slight twitch in his fingertips that feels like electricity passing through them as the distant sound of music thrums in his ears that he canât help but fixate on as everything else sounds like static. Itâs the kind of performance anxiety heâd make fun of when it came from anyone else. The kind that he usually canât be broken away from; until itâs his brotherâs grip on his arm and itâs like a shock to the system, a want to ask if everythingâs okay before he really realises where they are and whatâs happened between them. Like itâs just another echo of one of the umpteen soccer games he tried to drag Noah along to when they were younger (even if it was sometimes just to make sure he wouldnât be going back to their house alone).Â
âYou mean on the field or off the field?â Casey jokes before he can help himself, as if falling back into the pattern of it would disguise the slight tremble to his hands. Fuck, he needs to sneak off for a cigarette.
 No.
Thatâs not what a âresponsibleâ teammate would do. He resigns himself with a slight sigh before his eyes rake a little more cautiously over at Noah. â... Thanks, though... yâknow, I half expected I wouldnât see you until we got back home.âÂ
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elainefmâ:
â€ïžâđ„
âYou make it sound so easy,â It was a phrase sheâd said to him a million times before. He was always the dreamer of the two, like the obstacles in the way of all their dreams were invisible. Even if he could see them, she was sure Casey would charge right through. Elaine hadnât even known what it was to dream until sheâd met him, after all her closest confidant had always been Harvey, who was just as trapped as she was. It had been nice to think sheâd actually run away with Casey in high school, to think her and Lux could actually have a future together, to think that sheâd ever actually get to be herself. But the time for dreaming was over, with Candy now lingering so close to her and the walls of the Archer home closing in. Wake up, Elaine.Â
âListen. What we talked about at the lake. Just- forget about it, okay? I have, so you should, too.âÂ
âĄïž
âBecause it could be, Elaine!â The frustration seeps back into his voice - a step away from saying screw the Archers. If she needed a family, heâd be hers. There had never been a question about what he would do when it came to her. It was easier to dream about the almost impossible, the definitely improbable. Easier to spend evenings with his limbs tangled up with hers and pointing at distant places on the world map on his wall of places they could escape to (because thatâs what it was mostly about) without thinking of the consequences. He was cynical and questioned everything... and wanted more than anything to be proven wrong.Â
But the next sentence out of her mouth floors him. Casey definitely hasnât forgotten it. The tears that had soaked Macâs shirt... the desperation in Elaineâs voice and how lonely it had all sounded, and oh how his heart had ached for her. âWhat?â He doesnât mean for his disbelief to come across so strongly as he stands there in front of her, completely dumbfounded. âYou canât just... thatâs not...â Caseyâs brow furrows. His own favourite colour is red. His favourite sport is soccer. Band is Zeppelin. He likes bubblegum ice-cream, dog-earing his books, and when girls and boys kiss him. None of them could be forgotten. Theyâre all just little inseparable parts that make Casey... well... Casey. âLook, I know youâre scared but I donât think thatâs something you can just conveniently forget.âÂ
#interactions ft » elaine.#fun fact 4 u#my great grandma left her v v v wealthy family to run off with her STABLE BOY and got disowned and this reply ??? those vibes
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roryjacksonâ:
đ±
âI must,â Rory nods with faux gravity as she slides the cd into the slot on his dashboard. The opening notes of âWhen I Kissed the Teacherâ are better for her half-functioning brain than coffee, and they settle some of the uncertainty prickling under her skin too. And then Caseyâs comment throws her right back to his senior year of high school, and itâs like slipping back into the person she was before everything, back to their friendship before the Candy Girlâs pregnancy rumor, before she got him stabbed, and before the lakehouse. âPeople only didnât see that for you because you said you werenât going,â she said hotly, as if this was still an argument they were having every couple weeks rather than one that had been collecting dust for more than a year. (It doesnât matter how long itâs been. Rory will die on the Casey-is-the-only-one-who-thinks-heâs-stupid hill.) âTold you that you shoulda gone before, now youâre stuck being a freshman with me. I hope we have class together.â She cranks the window down to stick her hand out into the cool dawn air as she considers his question. âKind of excited, kind of nervous.â Her eyes were fixed on the road. âCollege was gonna be hard enough without any Candy-Girl-weird-Cherry nonsense, yâknow? What do we think the chances are sheâll coordinate her reign of terror with course schedules?âÂ
âĄïž
No they didnât, he wants to rebuke because he remembers high school differently. Being held back a grade and clenched jaws of teachers when his grades continued to slip before Aliceâs help. Advice for seeking âalternative pathwaysâ from guidance counselors before heâd even opened his mouth upon entering rooms. Graduating in and of itself felt like a trophy without thinking about college. And he didnât extend a thought past the idea of tomorrow back then. With some of the things they witnessed at home, sometimes he simply didnât know if heâd be around past it.Â
âStuck with you?â Itâs the point that surprises him and a light titter escapes his mouth before he can help himself. âIâm sorry Ms. Jackson but you donât know what itâs like to suffer through a class with me.â Thereâs a brief pause as he turns his indicator on, pulling away from her street. âKnowing Candy sheâll show up at finals like âhereâs a pop quiz question you didnât see coming. Riddle me this,ââ he snarks with his best high-pitched Candy girl voice, although beneath it he canât quite disguise the slight sound of fear that clips his tone. The longer his own secrets remain his, the fear grows. After high school, after rock bottom, there had been little to lose and all to gain through dealing for Hargrove. Theyâd keep a roof over their heads, food on the table and there was the quiet promise of giving Noah a future that was worth giving up his own for. Now thereâs college and the band and people who he wouldnât be able to handle disappointed looks from. âShe probably gets off on planning it, yâknow. Thatâs what does it for some people.â Â
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elainefmâ:
â€ïžâđ„
Elaine had never known there was another option, not until sheâd gotten to New York. It was a whole new world there, one that was filled with more love than sheâd ever seen, more than sheâd ever been able to dream of. She hadnât known there could be more than fake plastic smiles and small-town politics and secret kisses in the dark. And it had only confirmed that she still wanted a sliver of what her parents dreamed of- the white picket fence and the happy, happy family. Sheâd wanted it with Lux. And now that, that was never going to happen? What was the point of even trying?Â
âWhat else am I supposed to do?â she can barely look at Casey, not when she can feel the disappointment radiating off of him, âI had someone and I lost them and I donât want anyone else. But I want the big house and the duck-egg curtains and the beautiful kids one day. How else am I supposed to get it?âÂ
âĄïž
Itâs just like high school. Itâs a mantra thatâs practically been on repeat since the night at the lake house when heâd exploded instead of facing what had actually happened. And it creeps in now as heâs faced with the hopelessness of Elaineâs predicament. High school had been dead ends that would lead to a lifetime of them for him. Hers just seems to have a shinier veneer. Casey finds himself softening before her eyes because of course he does; because no matter how stubborn he is, it always seems to be Elaine who has a way of pulling him out of moments where he wants no more than to dig his heels into the ground. â... Could still have it,â his brow relaxes and arms cross over his chest as he looks at her. Practically imploring her to do the same. âDonât think youâre giving yourself enough credit âcause Iâve seen you when you want something badly enough, El. The whole town would be brought to its knees to give it to you. Hell, I bet you could do it all by your damn self if you wanted that. If you donât want some dude, you donât have to have some dude along for that.âÂ
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thewriter-noahâ:
âïž
It stung. The way the conversation felt so rigid. Like all the progress theyâd made had been washed away and this was all they were left with. Almost numbing in the way that Noah didnât know that heâd ever have any other relationship like the one he used to have with Casey. All of his life he felt like Casey had practically been embossed on him. Like being Caseyâs younger brother was such a vital part of his identity and without it, he was just left being a stranger even to himself. He was feeling the gasping loss of his brother and for what might have been the second time in his life was completely at a loss for words on how to fix it. How to make up for the terrible thing heâd done to someone Casey clearly still cared for. âYeah.. yeah just college I guess. Itâll all get done eventually I guess.â He mumbled as he grabbed a bottle and started mixing again. Passing out a few more drinks before finally pausing in his work to take a step back and try and remind himself to take a deep breath. To keep himself from turning on his heels and running from the booth as fast and hard as he could until he didnât feel quite so empty. âI donât know if cowardly is the word Iâd use to describe getting out of a class you donât want but I guess I kinda see where youâre coming from. Did you get any other classes youâre excited about or just the BS ones?âÂ
âĄïž
âYup,â Caseyâs lips purse and brow crumples as he looks down at the table. Out of all the labels Casey had gained in life - being Noahâs big brother was always by far his favourite. Chest swelling with undeniable pride when his brother would write or come along to a party with little prodding or get into college. Because for as much as the Russell boys didnât really have a parent figure to look up to - Casey had always felt like theyâd more or less raised each other. Like you could look at Caseyâs fridge in thirty years time and still find some of Noahâs old grades or Ronnieâs childhood (or adulthood... the difference wasnât that great) drawings. And his chest would still well with pride as heâd point out each story with the fond kind of nostalgia that only appeared whenever he thought about the people his brothers had become despite it all. So, he canât help the disappointment. In Noah and in himself like somewhere heâd fucked up and been a bad role model. Although when had he really given the impression that self preservation was important? âGot the music theory elective I wanted... and yâknow. The obvious stuff with philosophy. Introduction to ethics and all that...â And itâs the first time Casey dares a glance at his brother. âBeen thinking about ethics and morality a lot lately.â Itâs the closest heâs got to being anywhere near confrontational about Noahâs entire reveal. Out of all the pandoraâs boxes to have come out of that night, this is perhaps the one heâs been dreading opening most.Â
#interactions ft » noah.#i'm actually just hyped archie has hair in these gifs so i will be using them for the foreseeable future dont mind me and my choices x
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shakingpompomsâ:
â ⥠â
Call her dramatic but Margot felt exposed, naked, without a uniform clinging to her body. Sure, it might be totally impractical but there was nothing that consumed her thoughts more than belonging. Belonging to a team, a squad as notable as the CCU Cheerleaders, she felt the need for constant rep (and pep!). Then call her stupid for wearing her coveted Cherries Cheerleading Club sweatshirt during summer. She thought she could get away with it as long as she wore a pair of shorts and for the most of the morning? It had worked in her favor, but as soon as the sun started coming out and the breeze stopped? Color her hot, and not the in Phoebe Cates way.
And she could have ran to her dorm and changed, she really could, but she wasnât ready to part with a piece of Cherry merchandise. She would just make a mental note to maybe wait to break out the sweatshirts until the weather started to drop. All that to say she was in desperate need of something cold to drink which lead her directly to The Pit stand. She would have never been caught dead in a bar at any point in her life, but since they were just a little pop up on campus, whatâs the worst that could happen? And they had to have water. âJust anything that includes ice would be nice,â she admitted, her nose scrunching, noticing that she had clearly interrupted him from whatever he had been daydreaming about.Â
Then, ever the polite person, she piped up with her own insight. âYou donât exactly look like someone whoâd, you know, be thinking about kittens and rainbows in your free time.â
âĄïž
âI donât?â Casey teases, brow quirking as if to highlight his surprise. Of course he isnât actually. A scowl was worn like a badge of honour throughout high school which only twisted into a smirk whenever the chance to disrupt things came into play. Now, after the events of the weekend at the lake house, it was just that. A scowl. Nothing pretty or more to it. Somewhere out there heâs sure Elaineâs mother would tell him heâd get early wrinkles (although that also isnât true, heâs sure she wouldnât care if he withered away). âOnly the fuzziest of kittens run through this brain, Iâll have you know. âCause Iâm adopting one of those - what are they called again? - positive mindsets. Washing away my negativity with a smile,â and as if to prove a point he punctuates the end of his sentence with a toothy grin as he pours an extra helping of ice into a cup for her lemonade (with a twist because it was Ronnieâs menu at the end of the day). âBut Iâm sure you know all about that,â he extends the cup out for her to take when heâs finished. âYouâre the cheerleader so youâre practically an expert on that stuff, right?âÂ
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roryjacksonâ:
đ±
Rory shoved her hands in the pocket of her quarter zip, too big to be hers originally. She was pretty sure it was her uncleâs at one point, but it mostly switches between her and Zahraâs closets these days. She half wondered if it was a betrayal, to still meet Casey for this. But muscle memory had carried her out the door for this tradition before her brain had any say- (it was 5 am, okay, she wasnât exactly at her sharpest). At the end of the day, he was her friend too. And from the sounds of it⊠he might need one right now. And of the world of mantras, âwhat so-and-so doesnât know wonât hurt âemâ was quickly becoming her favorite. Usually with her uncle as the star. And Zahra knew where she stood, always did. So instead of fretting about it, she pulled her oh so coveted arrival cd from her pocket. âNot old times til this is on, right? You gonna let me put it in, or do I have to one-handed wrestle you for it while you drive?â She tacked on dryly. Some of the levity was forced, as she caught sight of the not-quite-healed bruising Zahra had told her about the night they got back, felt the wound on her chest sting in psychosomatic sympathy. âYou looking forward to it? School, I mean?âÂ
âĄïž
âI mean I guess. If you have to. Yâknow I canât stand it,â he sniffs and adjusts in his seat, slight smirk starting to twist its way onto the corners of his mouth (even as he winces as the slight push in the muscles of his cheek feels like pressing on bruises). Itâs a comment given for the sake of an older performance. Second favourite album of all time confession put aside for a moment as he starts the car. A week ago he was - dare he admit it - excited to go to CCU. Like it signified a new beginning or whatever it was the Beat poets talked about when they got sick of the mundane. Now itâs a little different; like heâs just waiting to see how he screws this up too. âGuess Iâm looking forward to bragging most of all â college student isnât really what anyone saw for me back in high school so feels like a little bit of a middle finger to them.â Casey grumbles before sucking in a breath, eyes fixated on the road before throwing a glimpse back at Rory. âWhat about you?âÂ
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elainefmâ:
â€ïžâđ„
âAnd you were mine!â the words and the force behind them surprise her, even as theyâre tumbling out of her mouth, âDonât you think I wanted to be doing all of those things with you? Donât you think that if I actually had a choice it would have been different? Love doesnât matter in my house, Casey. My parents never say âI love youâ to one another, because they donât! They got married because thatâs what their parents told them to do and Iâll get married because thatâs what theyâll tell me to do, and thatâs just- thatâs it. You donât know what itâs like to have to be fucking perfect all the time, so donât say I wasnât risking everything for you because I was! And I lost it! It sucks that youâre hurt over it, but youâll go out and find someone else that you love and youâll have a life. And Iâll wind up marrying some guy whoâs half as good to me as Harvey was and have 2.5 kids and always be stuck wondering what it would have been like if Iâd shut my own stupid feelings up in high school. You were what I wanted, but he was- the safest choice to make. You donât get to judge me for making it.âÂ
âĄïž
He didnât know what it was like to grow up having to be perfect. Still doesnât. Could remember a time before he really knew her when it all seemed so beautiful. To have rules and standards you had to meet; could still remember his first impressions of Elaine if he tried hard enough. All her report cards would always get read and maybe theyâd get stuck on the fridge if they were good enough (thatâs what they did in normal houses, wasnât it?). She was so pristine that he hadnât thought sheâd ever dirtied a dress in her life (or if she did theyâd always get cleaned by someone who cared). She didnât have to act out for attention that wouldnât come or worry about turning a key in the latch of her front door.Â
Yet, somehow, when he did get to know her, he realised the scarring from growing up in a family like hers was just as bad as his own. Like getting a mirror and holding up the parts of him that hurt the most too. And heâd loved her regardless of it all. With all the flaws and imperfections only serving to add to it. So maybe thatâs why he suddenly grows quiet as he processes what sheâd said. Lost somewhere between being wanted and just how lost she must feel. â... Youâre gonna do that?â He asks, voice suddenly quieter. âSo thatâs it? Youâre gonna marry some... some fucking guy,â and thatâs the words that sticks in his throat after their discussion at the lakehouse until he remembers where he is and who could hear and suddenly itâs high school again - worrying about who might find out and whether the words lacing his tongue are the right ones to be saying at all. â... who may not even treat you well âcause thatâs whatâll make your parents happy?âÂ
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emirerdoganâ:
who: open what: learn how to type with mavis beacon, ft. emir erdogan! where: ccu library ig?
Emir had never been against the concept of a higher education. He had dedicated many hours of his life to trying to receive some⊠equivalent form â but university had always seemed out of the question. It was not for lack of funds ( a resourceful man, his Father was ), rather for toxic dedication and swollen pride. Thus, perhaps the one good thing to come of it all was the chance to learn at the hands of official scholars. The chance to dissect it with a jury of his peers, to write critical pieces⊠so on and so forth. But firstâŠÂ âMavis Beacon Teaches Typingâ on the library computer. After the tenth failure on one specific word, Emir slipped from thought to impassioned murmur! Fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, he addressed Mavis Beacon: âI do not play xylophone, I do not listen to the xylophone â I do not see myself ever needing to type âxylophone.ââ
âĄïž
When Casey had pictured studying philosophy it had been with a few more glasses of red wine and midnight discussions (with grapes!) than this. Although maybe itâs a right of passage to be holed up in the library writing notes on Plato. What he would have wanted, even. Maybe. Even as heâs crying out for distraction from the callus developing on his finger from writing and the occasional glance at the computer user. Secretly glad itâs not him that has to wrestle with the piece of technology in the corner. Computers scare him a little! The candy girl used one! And to his own complete lack of knowledge he has been catfished by a certain Winnie Wu in the past! âWhatâs that?â He asks, leaning back slightly on his chair with a furrowed brow as he peers over at Emirâs screen at the woman next to a speech bubble. Is it his business? No. Has getting involved in areas that are definitely not his business and that he definitely should stay out of ever stopped him before? Also no! In Caseyâs world, speaking aloud is simply an open invite to conversation. âShe some girl youâre chatting to online? âCause yâknow, if sheâs into the xylophone you should probably say you can play.âÂ
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zahrajacksonâ:
When he speaks, her whole body tenses. For all her talk with Rory had eased the everything sheâd been feeling since Cristiano opened his stupid mouth, sheâs still on edge. It doesnât feel right, but at least itâs a guard up. So she scoffs at the sarcastic response and rolls her eyes at the apology - she doesnât care. âSure,â she says, dismissive and biting, but leaving it at that. She wants to fast forward through this part more than she wants to truly bite back. Thereâll be plenty of time for petty jabs for as long as sheâs stuck in this hellhole, after all.
So she keeps her mouth shut and waits impatiently for him to break this thing between them that sheâd never really let herself latch onto too tightly. She locks her eyes on the horizon and resents the skyâs lack of clouds - it feels like the sky should be darkening, like thunder should be rumbling. In the masochistic moments sheâd imagined the aftermath of her secret coming out, sheâd imagined the beach and a storm and a lot more yelling. Something suitably dramatic. But the sky is clear and colourful with a sunset, and the air is warm with the end of summer. And, for some reason, Casey doesnât just say weâre done. Instead, he says he wrote her something. Zahra blinks. Frowns in confusion. âWhat?â It throws her off so abruptly she momentarily forgets what she was waiting for. The guard falters. She whips her head around to look at him, rapidly trying to reorient herself and regain her footing. The rest of her body twists around to follow, one leg still dangling over the edge but the other pulled up and bent so sheâs halfway to sitting cross-legged. It feels like itâs been an eternity since sheâs looked at him - really looked at him, not watching him out of the corner of her eye as the Gang made their way out of the lake house - and her breath doesnât even catch in her throat because sheâs busy asking, âWhat the fuck are you talking about?â Somewhere between poem (itâs not a poem, apparently) and didnât wanna fuck up (???) her brain short-circuited, and her walls go back up quickly, sure, but sheâs still utterly baffled.
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His face flushes and his voice becomes gruff by the time he speaks next. âWell, thatâs what they say, isnât it?â They being every writer he can ever think of seeing an interview with on breakfast television. âKeep a journal. Write your feelings and shitâŠâ And maybe itâs just a result of the weekend that had passed but he feels a little embarrassed to have mentioned it at all. Like all the times he had wanted to duck under the table when Mac and he wrote songs together. His posture becomes a bit more rigid alongside his nerves, hands reaching defensively up to cross over his chest and away from reach of the papers in his pocket and eyes seeking out the spot on the horizon where sheâd been looking moments before and doing his best to fixate on the clouds rather than the fact he can practically feel her gaze on him. Itâs easier somehow that way. Less bare.
 âSo, yâknow... I did that. Stayed up in my room the night after we talked on AOL and I wrote my feelings.â Finally a hand reaches down to his jeans and he pulls out one of the handful of crumpled receipts from his pocket, turning them in his palm to reveal his messy handwriting that he hadnât even bothered to polish up beforeheand. âSo either you can read them or I guess I can but⊠but⊠all I know is I donât wanna run my mouth and say a load of shit that Iâll regret tomorrow. âCause I⊠I...â The orange hue of the sky isnât enough to stop him from envisioning what her expression must look like from feet away. And it feels like the bravest thing heâs ever really done when he tears his gaze from the sky to Zahra with a rather exaggerated sigh as he tries to track his thoughts. He doesnât know what heâd been expecting to see - the version of Zahra from the lake house who had seemed so small in comparison to her usual self? High school Zahra who had been so untouchable that heâs pretty certain could have shattered him in an instant with just the right look? As his eyes dare to lock with hers, sheâs neither of those. Sheâs just his Zahra. Strong. Effortlessly confident. With all the airs of fearlessness that he wishes he had in the moment. âBecause - fuck. Zahra, I love you and thatâs all I can keep coming back to because nothing else about this entire fucking situation is making much sense to me at the moment.âÂ
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thewriter-noahâ:
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It kind of felt like the more time that passed between him and the lake house the worse he felt. Like the anxiety heâd felt since his meeting with the candy girl had bubbled over and he was left with no one to blame but himself. Recalled how angry heâd been at his brother for keeping so many secrets over the past year, only to turn around and keep several of his own. He was a hypocrite and the reminders were razor sharp. The tone in his brothers voice as he finally responded to him. Made him regret saying anything in the first place. Found he would have been better off if heâd stayed quiet and done what he was told, but it was too late for that. âIâm sorry to hear thatâŠâ He said instead, reaching for a rag, something thatâd allow him to keep his hands busy as he wiped down the counter and contemplated pouring them each a shot simply to shut down some of the tension. But he wasnât that brave. Never had been. Further proof newly laid in front of him. And it wasnât like he was brave enough to explain himself either. Didnât have the confidence to remind Case of the silence that echoed so loudly in their home after he and Elaine had broken up. How hard it had been to see her pick Harvey of all fuckin people. She had broken the person he loved the most of the world, and repeatedly harassed everyone else he held dear. Was it a reason enough to sell her out to Candy? No. And in the moment he contemplated if jail would really have been any worse. If going back home was really worse than his brothers inability to look at him. But it was too late. Heâd done it and there was no re-do. âI got two of âem. Which isnât terrible. The rest kind of suck but thatâs not unusual. You could always talk to the counselor if you want out of whatever youâve got.âÂ
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It feels like a conversation between two casual acquaintances and he canât quite move past it. Thereâs none of the usual teasing. The usual comeback of âa whole two? Bet Steinbeck didnât get more than one at Stanfordâ doesnât make it out of his mouth and the camaraderie that the two have always shared seems non-existent as he grabs at another cup for a student. ââs just college, right?â Itâs probably worse that the subject matter of the weekend before hasnât been brought up. Probably because itâs so internalised that not bringing up things was the done thing to do within the Russell house that it seems halfway normal. Even as his gut twinges at the fact itâd never really been like that with his brother unless it was Caseyâs intent to  protect him from something. Just like it had been the year before. Never hurt him. Not like the dull ache that has sat in the pit of his stomach like he could half expect any of the gang to turn on each other at any given moment. But not Noah. Never Noah. Not when they shared everything. When they were the only two in the world who could ever be bonded by what happened at home when Ronnie upped and went to college. The only two privy to late nights spent in their box room at the other house talking about anything and everything in hushed voices (âwhen you punch you throw like this. Thumb on the outside or youâll break itâ). Noah was his brother. But most of the time he was his best friend first and foremost. âI guess I could but yâknow... seems a little like giving up before Iâve even tried which seems cowardly as shit.âÂ
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elainefmâ:
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Elaine wishes she could have stopped herself from pushing back harder, from twisting the knife she already knows sheâs sunk into his chest. But she doesnât want anyone close enough to hurt her anymore, she doesnât want to feel the air leave her lungs the way it did twice that night at the lake house. She never should have let them close enough in the first place, should never have let her guard down enough for them to sneak past the barbed wire around her heart. Letting people in meant feeling like this, like something inside of her was shattering all the goddamn time. âItâs better to be feared than loved, Elaine. Itâs better to keep people at an armâs length, two if you can. It doesnât matter if you didnât love Harvey, marriage isnât about love, itâs about power. You never should have gone near that Russell boy, you never should have let that Jackson girl get ahead of you. You should have done better, you should be better, youâre not good enough.â Itâs her parentsâ voices on a loop in her head, drowning out any regret that was trying to make itself heard.Â
But she canât help but think about Lux, what had happened last time sheâd thrown her guard up and pulled out her harshest words. It sent shivers down her spine, twisted her tongue until the next cruel thing she was going to say was gone and all that was left was Casey and the stupid hurt look on his face and the stupid highlight reel of every bad thing that had happened between them. âFirst of all, I would never put duck egg blinds on my windows Iâm not eighty-five. Second of all, you donât get to try and make me feel bad over something that you put an end to. You told me for months that I was all you wanted and then you let me go as soon as you had me, over what? Your fucking pride? Because you wanted to be my first choice?â god, she hoped no one repeated this conversation to her parents or Harvey, âYou were. You always were. I didnât love him, I didnât make the choice to be with him. I chose to be with you. I risked everything for you. And we both know itâs better that we didnât end up together because of what I told you at the lake. So you donât get to make me feel bad about it! You fucking donât.âÂ
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He scoffs momentarily because obviously the fucking colour of the blinds heâd pictured had been the important detail. âYeah?â The air is pulled from him as he tries to deal with the information that heâd convinced himself for years couldnât be the case. Not sure if itâs that or if itâs the honesty thatâs starting to seep into both of them. The retreat from their hurtful remarks that had been exchanged at the garden of the lake house when theyâd both been going for the jugular suddenly handed in for something far more raw. Something far more painful that seems as if itâs been just lying in wait. âWas I your first choice when you and Harvey went to prom together? When you got to go to family dinners together and fucking... spend time together without worrying someone would catch you? Do you know what that actually felt like for me, Elaine? âCause sneaking around and hoping your actual boyfriend doesnât find out is not risking anything, Elaine. Thatâs just fucking avoiding reality.â He states, a little quieter than the bubbling anger that had consumed his tone moments before. Maybe because itâs a sentiment that still resonates with him. âYou really think your parents would have approved of us? Or that the disgusted glances we got on prom night would have stopped? I knew that they wouldnât. It wouldnât have worked. We would have crashed and burned and I would have held you back from everything that happened for you in New York and I know that. But Iâm fucking tired of pretending like it didnât hurt like hell to do what I did. You were my everything, El. I had fuck all else going for me back then. And thatâs... thatâs not me trying to make you feel bad but letting you go was the hardest fucking thing Iâve ever had to do for myself so you donât get to say itâs âcause of my damn pride.âÂ
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