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looselucy · 7 years ago

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November

Tally was going home for the weekend. I felt like I needed her there, really. Zayn and Harry had spent the entire of Friday bonding over lad-ish nonsense and tattoos and all the rest, and my only saviour had been Tally. Because I loved Mike, dearly, but he was the kind of boy who played video games and was slightly intimidated by big words, so there was no way he could save me from my misery in the same way Tally could.

Thinking this over, I quickly grabbed my phone out and text Grace. Me: Still annoyed at you. Gracie Baby: Still? I guess your knobhead new flat mate isn’t helping me? Me: No. Making me more aware that you are the worst person ever. Some might even say selfish. Gracie Baby: SELFISH? Me: Yes. You may have hated uni BUT WHAT ABOUT ME? Gracie Baby: You’re the biggest loser I’ve ever met. “Get home safe!” Zayn shouted, pulling my attention away from my phone. I lifted my eyes to see Tally slinging a bag over her shoulder, giving us all a sweet little wave before she darted out the front door, running late, as usual. A thing I had found at uni, was that actually, weekends were usually the least fun times of the week. A complete contrast to the normal world. Midweek was when all the student nights happened, cheap drinks and practically everyone from campus in the same clubs. Weekends were just like a massive hangover from the week. “We got plans?” I asked Zayn, even though I knew the answer. “Nope.” “We gunna make plans?” “Nope.” “Sound.” We flicked through the TV channels, our options dire. Ringo was in her room, Mike was out with some guys from his course, and I didn’t have a clue where Harry was, nor did I care. “We’re gunna have to do what we do most Saturday nights.” He nodded. “Illegally stream a film online?” “Illegally stream a film online.” He confirmed. He stood up quickly and jogged off to his room to retrieve his laptop, because he knew I was too worried about mine and viruses and all the rest, because my mum and dad had spent a fortune to get me a laptop for uni and I didn’t want to take it home over Christmas just to have porn pop up out of nowhere whenever I pressed a button. He was back seconds later, the plug for his laptop dragging behind him, a dopey smile on his face because Zayn loved films. His top ten favourite films were all these arty foreign ones I’d never even heard of, and it was his ultimate pastime. It was a good one though, Zayn had deep knowledge of worlds that didn’t even exist, their people, their laws, and if you got him talking about it he could drag you into those worlds and make you feel a part of them, whether you had seen the film or not. He was so passionate. “So what we watching?” He grinned, attempting to use his laptop even though he was pretty much useless with any technology. “I think-” “Don’t even say it.” “- we should watch The Princess and The Frog.” “NO! For fuck sake, Pip.” “WHY?” “Because, I’ve known you for two months, and only two months, and we have watched The Princess and The Frog a grand total of eight times.” “But-” “Let me repeat that, Pippa. Eight. Eight times.” “It’s a Disney classic.” I shook my head at him, wanting a rise. “It is not a Disney classic. Why do you do this to me?” I laughed to myself as he finally set his laptop up, balancing it on the bin so that the wire could reach the TV that was attached to the wall. Just as I was about to become completely relaxed and completely happy, we heard the front door open, and I knew it was going to be Harry because the world hated me and liked to make a mockery of my life. He lazily sauntered into the kitchen, spotting me first and nearly turning around on the spot before he noticed Zayn was there too. “O’reyt.” Harry spoke glumly. “Reyt!” Zayn returned. “We’re gunna watch a film, you in?” “Depends what film.” “What kinda mood you in?” “A shit one.” He practically kicked the floor, before wandering over to the kettle. Zayn gave me a wide-eyed look whilst Harry’s back was to us, and I just shrugged my shoulders, not bothered to hear the story Harry was going to give us. “What’s up, man?” Zayn asked, taking a temporary seat in the camping chair. Harry filled the kettle up in silence and then flicked it on before he turned around and spoke, eyeing me up once like he didn’t care for me to hear his stories, but I wasn’t budging. It was my film night with Zayn. He wasn’t going to ruin it. “I took photos of this girl, for a project, right.” He started with a huff. “And she’s... topless. Like, I had her consent and everything. It’s sound. But like, they called me in today, on a fucking Saturday for some reason, even though I submitted them on Tuesday and I’ve had two lectures since then, to tell me that it’s inappropriate and I need to submit something else, or they’ll have to fail me.” It wasn’t quite what I was expecting. Whenever I walked into the kitchen exclaiming I’d had a shit day, it was usually because I was too rough at a lecture, or someone was rude to me in the street. I didn’t like Harry having actual problems, because it made him human, rather than just being the total bellend I saw him as. “Seriously?” Zayn looked disgusted at the whole idea. “I know!” Harry tightened his fist down by his side. “I’ve always had this idea for these pictures, but I knew at college they would have said no. But this is fucking university, and they’re still terrified about some girls tits? Like breasts are some taboo thing that we can’t even talk about, let alone see. It’s really pisses me off. The pictures were so cool, man. They were done on this Polaroid camera that my grandad gave me from back in the day, and they looked so sick. And now I have to think up something completely new for Friday, even though everyone else has been working on it since day fucking one. Because, of all fucking places, I can’t submit pictures of someone’s fucking tits, at uni. Can you fucking believe that shit? It was hardly like I walked in with a print screen off PornHub. Jesus wept!” I chuckled for the briefest moment, before forcing it to the back of my throat, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had made me laugh, even though that comment really did get to me. “Tell you what proves how ridiculous that is.” Zayn animated with his hands. “Yesterday I was at a live-drawing session, with some fit as fuck thirty-year-old model, completely nude in front of me. Like, why can I do that but you can’t have arty pictures that you’ve put heart into for photography? Like, I’m literally in shock.” It was ridiculous, to think about. A part of me wanted to see the photos, see if they were arty like he made them out to be, or if they were just entirely sleazy, which was kind of what I pictured, but that’s just because I was being bitchy and I had my mind made up on him. “I know.” Harry grunted as the kettle clicked behind him. “So, any film that will cheer me up would be spot on.” “Well, Pip knows her funny films.” Zayn turned to me. “Pip-Squeak?” Harry scoffed, looking at me. “Thought you might be the Disney Princess kind of girl.” I scowled at how accurate he was and quickly snapped my head to Zayn, making sure he didn’t mention the Princess and The Frog fiasco we had had only moments ago. He kept shtum. “Yeah well maybe I’m not as one dimensional as you think I am.” I huffed. “I don’t think about you at all, so don’t worry.” He made himself a cup of tea without offering either of us a cup ourselves, which wasn’t really the etiquette in our flat; even Ringo would offer a round of tea if she had boiled the kettle. I could tell Zayn was uncomfortable with the way me and Harry were around each other, because they genuinely did get on, and he wasn’t about to take sides, especially when the way we attacked one another was so petty and stupid. So, he just cleared his throat as Harry moved and sat on the sofa, as far away from me as physically possible. “So go on Pippa, give us a film.” Zayn sighed. “Yeah, go on, blow my mind with your dimensions.” Harry joked. A part of me just wanted to walk away and not bother, he was already pissing me off so much. I wondered if it was just because he’d had a bad day, and that’s why he was being such an arse. Maybe it cheered him up. Maybe he disliked me just as much as I did him. But I wanted to watch a film, and I wanted to prove to him Zayn was my best friend, not his. “Let’s watch Kick-Ass.” I groaned, snuggling into the settee. “SHOUT!” Zayn cheered. “You seen it, Harry?” “Nah.” “It’s sick.” Zayn started searching for it on some horrible website, some dodgy ads popping up every 15 seconds or so, me and Harry sitting in noticeable silence behind him. I crossed my right leg over my left, subconsciously moving away from him, wondering why he had to impose himself. Eventually, Zayn found a successful link and came to sit down next to me, so I was nestled between the two of them, the sofa being perfectly big enough when you were between two people you liked, but when you were next to someone who despised you and the feeling was quite mutual, I couldn’t help but think it was that bit too small. We all became engrossed in the film pretty quickly, and we must have been around half an hour in when a serious topic of discussion sprung to mind, something I was surprised I hadn’t thought of earlier. “Ooh ooh ooh!” I tapped Zayn on the shoulder. “Did you speak to Louis about me?” “Yeah.” He shrugged and whispered back. “Said he thinks you’re sound, and you’re a good kisser.” “Brilliant. That’s all I need. I can die happy now.” I turned back to the film, smug as fuck about the whole thing. I mean, usually it wasn’t a big deal, but having something like that said about me by the likes of Louis, was something else. Of course, I was beaming with pride, it was understandable on all accounts. “That’s it?” Zayn chuckled under his breath. “That’s all it takes for you to feel accomplished?” “Well I’m a very easily pleased.” I informed him. “Clearly.” He huffed, still giving off a slight laugh. “Either of you want a brew?” ”Nah, man. I fancy a beer.” Harry huffed, his concentration fully on the film. “Good idea!” Zayn smiled, jumping up to his feet. I cursed under my breath, because I knew myself very well by the age of 18. If I had a drink, even just one, and nothing to wake up for the morning after, the fun bug would bite me good and hard, and I would want to be out, drinking and dancing and making terrible decisions. I loved the original idea of staying in, especially at the weekend, because if we were going to go out it would cost us more than it would midweek. But all it would take was one drink, one tiny little drink, and I knew I was going to have a change of heart. And Zayn knew this about me too, but the fact he threw me over one of his Carlsberg cans seemed to say that maybe he wanted to go out too. So did the cheeky little smirk on his lips. I knew where our evening was going from there. Harry took a big, final gulp of the tea he had made when he first walked into our shared home, and then cracked open his own beer, taking a large gulp before exhaling a satisfied hot press of air from his mouth, like that one taste had taken a huge weight off his shoulders. Zayn moved his hand to his mouth and signalled for me to have my first drink, so I clicked my can open and did as I was told, always holding his eyes and watching his grin widen. As soon as I placed the can back down, I groaned, loudly. “Oh for fuck sake, Zayn!” “What?” Harry puzzled, glancing between the two of us. “We’re going out.” I flopped my head back, disappointed in myself. “What?” He repeated, more confused this time. “Pippa can’t even have a sip of a drink without suddenly wanting to go out and get drunk. It’s one of her best and worst qualities.” Zayn informed him. Harry turned his head to me and gave me a disapproving look up and down, silently judging me as we remained uncomfortably close to one another, regardless of the fact Zayn had moved from the sofa. “You’re weak as fuck, you.” He scoffed. “WHAT?” I almost howled. “The more I see of you, the more I feel like the name Pip-Squeak is really, really fitting for you.” “Oh just fuck off, Harry.” “No.” He grinned, leaning a little closer. “You’re going to have to deal with me all night now. C’mon, let’s get drunk, Pip-Squeak.” I bit my tongue, just like I did every single time Harry made some stupid comment or called me that ridiculous name, which wasn’t very fitting at all, to be honest. “Please invite Louis.” I groaned to Zayn as I raised to my feet, going to get ready for the evening ahead. “He might save me a little sanity if I have to deal with this wanker all night.” “Nothing can save you from me, Pip-Squeak.” “Oh my fucking god.” I pressed my fingers against my temples. “I will fucking murder you, if you keep calling me that.” “You’re so aggressive, Pip-Squeak. And you swear like a sailor.” “Fuck off.” I stormed out of the shared area and right back into my bedroom, locking the door tight and desperate to scream into a pillow, before taking into consideration how damn thin the walls were. So, being as dramatic as ever, I searched for a blank piece of paper, and melodramatically ripped it to shreds, growling to myself as I let them all tumble to the floor. And that was enough of a release for me, so I started getting ready, both dreading and eager for the evening ahead. + + + “Pip, we’ll be out in a minute! I promise!” Zayn re-enforced. I stood with a sour face as Zayn and Harry scurried off into the toilets, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but it was more than obvious they were going in there to do drugs. But we weren’t in our normal spot, we had travelled further into the city, into one of the giant clubs, and that kind of activity was extremely common there. I doubted any of the lads were scurrying into the toilets to actually use them for their original use. I took a big sip of the drink I had bought myself, rolling my eyes and wishing they would just hurry up. Louis had said no to the night out, so I was stuck with Zayn and Harry all night, and I wasn’t sure how well I was going to cope. I really needed to drink to the point where I didn’t care. I had also decided, for Zayn’s sake, I needed to make a bit more of an effort with Harry, rather than just ignore him or be rude to him all night. I needed to try, because if he and Zayn were going to continue being this pally, it meant I was going to be spending more time with him than I originally anticipated. So it was better to be nice. A few minutes later, they came out, both laughing away with each other, Harry wiping his nose with the back of his hand, just to make it a little more obvious. Once again, I rolled my eyes, before shouting at myself in my head, reminding myself about putting in that effort and not just rolling my eyes at every single thing he did. Zayn clapped his hands together, rubbing them fast and creating heat. “I need a drink.” He spoke quickly. I had noticed this about Zayn in the few times I had seen him take drugs, either it was a placebo type thing, or the effects of what he had taken really did hit him within a matter of minutes. It was weird. Harry was still totally fine, as expected, not that I was some kind of drugs expert, but Zayn was already bouncing off the walls, before we’d even gone back into the main part of the club. “Me too!” I said, downing the remainder of the one I already had. We began making our way in the right direction. The place we had chosen was huge, the complete opposite of Thimble. It was loud and crowded, playing unfamiliar music that just pounded into my ears, and I needed to be drunk to enjoy it. So we went to the bar, and I made my first attempt at being nice. “I’ll get a round in.” I smiled. “What do you both want?” “I’ll have a vodka and coke, please.” “Harry?” I quizzed. “I’m not bothered.” He shrugged. “For fuck sake, Harry, just tell me what you want!” The pace of me losing my patience was shockingly speedy. “Whatever you’re having.” “Fine.” I shook my head, turning to the barman. “Please can I have three triple vodka and cokes? Thank you.” “TRIPLES?” Zayn cried. “Yeah. I’m too sober for this shit.” We all cringed in time with one another after we had taken our first sips, the taste absolutely vile, but hopefully it would do its job. “Thanks, Pip.” Zayn clunked his glass to mine. “Yeah, cheers.” Harry gazed off into the distance whilst giving his pathetic attempt at a thank you. I scowled at him whilst he wasn’t looking, and stuck my tongue out like a child, but it genuinely made me feel a little bit better. Zayn couldn’t help but laugh, he patted me on the back and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for trying.” He yelled in my ear, realising my efforts. At least someone did. + + + By the time it hit 1am, we were all completely gone; the lads more so, since they had a mix of things flowing through their systems. Myself and Harry had barely spoke all evening, but it was better than arguing with each other at least. We had just been dancing, stuck in the middle of the room, everyone going completely wild. I preferred Thimble, really. It was small and full of students, more familiar and welcoming. That place was huge, eerily dark with blue and red lights burning everywhere, some guy raised out from the crowd playing the music, reacting to the crowd. But it was good, I suppose. Good enough. “Oh shit!” Zayn cried, again. “She is so fit.” “For fuck sake, man, just do it!” Harry yelled. His pupils were so wide I was slightly concerned. Harry was acting relatively normal, the only thing that gave him away was the size of his eyes, how wide he held them open. Zayn’s eyes tended to keep shutting themselves, he reacted more obviously to what he had taken in every sense. “I can’t, man.” Zayn chewed on his lip and bobbed his head from side to side. “I can’t she’s too fit I can’t do it.” “If you don’t do it, I’m gunna fucking do it!” Harry called. “Nah, man, nah, she’s mine.” “THEN FUCKING GO! You’re pissing me off, man. Just go and kiss her!” Zayn started nodding, his head literally kept going up and down like fucking mad before he quickly pushed away from us, and made his way to the girl he had been talking about for at least an hour. It then struck me that it was now just me and Harry, and he realised it too, and we both got really awkward and exceedingly uncomfortable, taking big sips of our drinks to try and push past it. I encouraged myself, once again, to make an effort with him. For Zayn’s sake. “I have Zayn’s fags in my bag, you wanna go for one?” I rushed. He gave me a questioning look, wondering why on earth I had just offered him that, especially since neither of us even really smoked. He continued to just shrug his shoulders, and tilt his head towards the smoking area. He took off, leaving me uneasily trailing behind, having a lot more a difficult time pushing through the crowds than Harry did, thankful I wasn’t wearing heels because it would have been even more difficult. By the time I made it outside, Harry was already there, sitting on a bench waiting for me. The outside area had heating, thankfully, but you literally had to travel through a cloud of smoke, it was pretty disgusting. I sat down next to him, handing him a cigarette and putting one in my mouth, and lighting it, before passing the black lighter onto Harry, and he did the same thing. For around half the cigarette, we sat in silence, people watching, avoiding conversation, awkward as fuck. Until Harry had seemingly had enough of that, and sparked up a discussion, even though it made everything even more awkward. “So why don’t you like me?” He smirked. I was pretty drunk by this point, so I just burst out laughing, covering my mouth but unable to keep it in. “You don’t like me either!” I pointed out to him. “Yeah but, you know my reasons.” “Do I?” “Yeah, you’re annoying as fuck. Of course I don’t like you.” He huffed. “HOW AM I ANNOYING?” “See. That right there. Why did you have to shout that? Why? Shush.” Oh god. I hated him. I really fucking hated. Everything he did and said just made me want to punch myself in the face repeatedly, he was infuriating. I turned fully to him, trying to compose myself and sober up. “You wanna know why I don’t like you?” I shot. “Yeah.” “Because you’re arrogant as fuck. You think you’re something special-” “I am quite special.” He interrupted. “No. Just... Shut the fuck up. Just shut the fuck up, Harry. You were rude to me when we met, even though I was just making polite conversation. And you have continued to be really fucking rude to me. And I don’t get why? You’re like… fine with everyone else, but you’re really rude to me!” “You can’t say shit, Pip-Squeak!” He laughed in my face. “You’re rude to me too! That’s what we do, we’re rude to each other. It’s how we work.” “I haven’t even known you a fucking week, Harry. We don’t do anything. That is not what we do. You are so annoying, honestly. No one has ever annoyed me so much in my life. And this is after a few days. I have to live with you. I’m gunna go mad.” “You are so dramatic. It hurts my head. And also, you’re boring as fuck so I’m going inside.” He groaned. He raised to his feet, crashing into someone on the way as I dragged my hands down my cheeks, really needing to scream, and I had needed to do so for hours by that point. Harry stumbled backwards after knocking into the lad, who turned around and gave him a filthy look, looking him up and down. “Watch where you’re going, pal.” The bulky bloke said to him. “Alright, mate, calm down.” Harry chuckled. “So much aggression. Bloody hell. It was an accident.” “Then say you’re sorry.” I could see it coming before it happened, both their postures tensed and they were pretty much squaring up to each other for no reason. I stood up and grabbed at Harry’s elbow, gently tugging him, asking him to step away. “Y’know what?” Harry continued messing with him. “I was going to apologise but I just figure you’re too rude. And... I don’t want to anymore.” “You just made me spill some of my drink, say you’re fucking sorry!” He took a step closer. I tugged Harry a little harder after that, quietly whispering for him to step away, but it was pretty useless. There was no getting through to him, not taking him from that moment. I should have just left the two of them to it, rather than try to step in. “I’m not saying sorry. You can fuck off.” Harry smirked sarcastically. The lad began to crack his fingers, and I finally moved away, taking a quick step back from everything, cursing to myself over and over as the man warmed himself up in the most pretentious way possible, even doing a quick lunge before rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. Despite how tense I felt, that was genuinely funny. I let out a very minor giggle just watching him prep for the fight he was anticipating. But as he did his warm ups, and I stood chuckling away to myself, Harry caught him off guard and just swung, his fist meeting his face in a heartbeat and knocking him straight out, flat on the floor and the drink he had been carrying all over his white t-shirt. “Shit!” I cried. “Okay, time to go.” Harry spoke quickly. He laughed so loud, clapping his hands together before shooting back inside, leaving me staring at the lad on the floor, my mouth wide, his friends staring right back at me with similar looks on their faces. “Shit. Sorry. Sorry about that.” I started backing away from them. “Sorry. I didn’t... I don’t really know him. Sorry... again. Bye. Sorry, bye.” I turned on the spot and ran away in a panic, soon finding Harry inside, who was stood clutching at his belly he as laughing so much. This was clearly hilarious to him. I hit him hard on the arm, still in complete shock. Never in my life had any of my friends, or anyone I really associated with, been the type of people who would start fights on nights out, never mind knock someone out like he just had. “What the fuck are you doing?” I screamed. “Better I get him before he got me!” “No! No better there are no fights in the first place. Fucking hell. Let’s go find Zayn and just go home. Please.” I started barging off into the crowd and Harry followed close behind, still giggling his little arse off, annoying me more and more by the second, something I didn’t think was possible at all. “C’mon, Pip-Squeak.” I heard him yelling behind me. “You never seen a fight before?” “No, not really.” I looked back over my shoulder to him. “I get in fights all the time.” He was too smug about the matter. “Oh good.” I stopped and stared at him face on. “Bloody brilliant, Harry. Round of applause for you, you fucking idiot. It’s nowt to be proud of!” He hunched his shoulders and smirked, disagreeing with me without having to say a word. I gestured with my hands that I wanted to strangle him, before turning hot on my heel and going on a mission to find Zayn, which we soon did, his tongue stuck down the throat of the girl he had been staring at earlier. I tapped his shoulder. No reaction. I could still hear Harry laughing behind me. I tried not to tear my hair out. I tapped Zayn again. Nothing. “ZAYN!” I yelled. He pulled away from the girl, turning around with drowsy eyes, but looking happy to see me. “Heeeeey, Pippa! What’s going on?” “Harry just knocked someone out cold, so we need to go. Quickly. Please.” Zayn turned around to the girl and then whispered in her ear, to which she shyly nodded, moving a little closer to him. “She’s coming with us.” He playfully raised his eyebrows. “Whatever. Let’s go.” I didn’t even care by that point as I started storming out of the place, leaving the three of them trailing behind me as I grabbed a beer off a nearby shelf, hearing it’s owner who had been closer than I’d been hoping cry out his disapproval as I slugged the cold substance down my throat, but it was hard to really give a shit in that frame of mind. I just wanted to go home. + + + Zayn was kissing the girl he’d brought back as they fell through the door to his bedroom, hearing it lock tight as soon as they were inside. I stumbled up to the kitchen, needing water, or a cup of tea, or anything to help me feel a little better, still drunk and confused about our night out and how out of hand it had gotten. For some reason, I noticed Harry was following me down to the kitchen, beginning to stumble a little now, a mixture of drugs and alcohol and a night gone wrong. I walked over to my food cabinet and began routing for chocolate, knowing I had to have some somewhere, because it was me. “Good night?” Harry asked, chuckling, joking with me. “The best.” “Hey, Pip-Squeak, I have a question.” “I’m not going to reply to you unless you use my real name.” “But you just replied.” He fucking thrived off my misery. “Holy fuck. What? What is your question?” “Do you like me now?” “Harry, my dear, I like you less.” That was exactly what he had been expecting from me, and he just started laughing again, leaning against the kitchen top and proper giggling, before biting his bottom lip and just staring at me, probably trying to think up the next thing he could say to wind me up. I was too drunk and too tired to even try to deal with him. I found my chocolate, and then stared back at him, slamming the cupboard door shut. “You hate me?” He smirked again. “Yeah. Pretty much. I’m going to bed.” “Can I come?” He raised an eyebrow. “Go. Away.” He laughed again as I stormed out of the kitchen, wondering how on earth I was supposed to cope living with him until May. It had been a few, short days, and I was not coping well. Not at all. “NIGHT, PIP-SQUEAK!” He shouted down the corridor. I stuck my finger up over my shoulder and made him laugh even more, and I knew he was going to do everything in his power, from then on, to wind me up as much as he physically could. And that little bastard was doing a really good job.

#I've put out too much stuff this week I'm sorry #I LIKE FEEDBACK OKAY BYE #1DFF #Harry Styles #BB3 #bb

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carolightpenvenys · 7 years ago

Text

unknown number- penvenys au

thanks for your patience, relax and enjoy, leave some feedback x

Unknown Number 6:58 where's the dog food?

Caroline Penvenen 6:59 oh what the fuck sorry you must have the wrong number- i have dog food but maybe not what you're looking for?

Unknown Number 7:00 Ross quit playing I know it's early but I have a shift!! Where's the damn dog food I need the damn dog food. It's your bloody dog I'm pet sitting I just can't believe

Caroline Penvenen 7:02 can absolutely guarantee this isn't ross ! sorry xx

Unknown Number 7:03 Oh. No Ross would never use kisses I'm so sorry But you wouldn't know where my mate Ross has put the dog food?

Caroline Penvenen 7:05 do i look like i would

Unknown Number: 7:05 Potentially, I can't actually see you

Caroline Penvenen 7:06 touché xx

Unknown Number 7:09 You can't say someone doesn't look like something when you can't see them

Caroline Penvenen 7:10 what

Unknown Number 7:10 Never mind

Caroline Penvenen 7:12 no i wanna understand come onnnnnnnnnnnn :( X

Unknown Number 7:20 Search memes Just to let you know! Found the dog food!

Caroline Penvenen 7:21 you use way too many exclamation marks gives a girl a headache but congrats on the dog food, stranger x

Unknown Number 7:23 I think we are more than strangers now. And if I didn't have a shift starting in about a quarter of an hour, I would definitely tell you a little bit about myself So bye Until then Stranger

Caroline Penvenen 7:45 omg no i was in the shower come backkkk my name is caroline and i am tall blonde and handsome!!!!!

Caroline Penvenen 10:10 fuck Caroline stared down at her phone screen. Who cares if they woke her up at the crack of dawn, she really thought they had something going there.

She sighed, truth was, she was really lonely. She had some half arsed friendships with Demelza and her so called boyfriend Ross but after cutting her family out, she was left with very little to do. A text on her phone was rare.

She sat watching Horace dig a hole in his bed and she sighed, deciding sitting on her phone waiting for the stranger to text back was just too sad to contemplate.

Didn't mean she wasn't going to do it.

She had put her hair in a messy bun but lay in bed still, her MacBook in its Cath Kidston case on her lap as she furrowed her eyebrows, trying to look at “memes.”

She got a text from Demelza asking if she wanted to come to a party tonight- there was someone she might want to meet.

Fed up of terrible matchmaking, Caroline declined without a second thought.

This was just about the worst party Dwight had ever been to.

It was one of those ones, you know the ones where everyone who is invited as a bit of an agenda, where people are invited tactically rather than because they're actually liked.

And he was actually done with watching the sad affair that was George Warleggan and Ross Poldark’s relationship as he sighed, sinking into the couch with his lukewarm beer and phone in hand. After an 8 hour shift he'd pretty much like to be anywhere else.

“Hey!” Demelza sat down, speaking drunk and enthusiastically. “Having a great night?”

“Yeah.” Dwight replied half heartedly.

“Well you look like you're having a shit night.” She leaned in closer. “Youwannaknowasecret?”

“Last time you told me a secret Demelza it was that you were wearing granny pants.”

“And I still am!! Anyway. I know you're so depressed and lonely and your only friend is Ross’s dog who he lets you pet sit because you're lonelyyyyy.”

Dwight would contest this later. “Continue.”

“So I invited my beautiful model friend to set you two up and she RSVP’d no… how sad!”

She continued to babble but Dwight was looking down at his phone where he'd just received a text.

Unknown Number 22:06 found a meme btw when they don't text you later xx

“Yeah.” Dwight smiled up at Demelza. “Tragic.”

Caroline was sat on her bed, watching Ten Things I Hate About You and contemplating how Kat was a feminist icon when she got the text.

Unknown Number 22:07 I am at the world’s worst party so at least I can be happy knowing I taught you about memes.

Caroline Penvenen 22:07 omg spill how awkward is the party! It’s probably more fun than my night that i spent alone with m&s pasta and illegal streaming websites for films js not porn never porn X

Unknown Number 22:10 I just changed your number in my phone to “Unknown who is NOT using porn”

Caroline Penvenen 22:13 that is way too long i am changing yours to stranger plus you know my name is caroline !!!!!!!!

Stranger 22:14 silly me “caroline who is NOT using porn”

Caroline Penvenen 22:15 have fun explaining that to anyone that sees your phone xxx

Stranger 22:18 After much thought and consideration “Caroline”

Caroline Penvenen 22:22

Stranger 22:23 I regret telling you to research memes.

Caroline Penvenen 22:30 goodnight stranger X

When Dwight opens his phone about 24 hours later after perhaps the longest shift of his life, he’s bombarded with about 37 texts from Caroline.

Dwight Enys 22:00 Sorry I’ve been working all day! Hope you had a good one.

Caroline 22:01 what are you?? batman?

Dwight Enys 22:03 Close, I’m a doctor.

Caroline 22:05 wHAT that’s so cool what a wonderful day for saving lives people!!

Dwight Enys 22:08 What?

Caroline 22:08 it’s grey’s anatomy!!! you would definitely be dr mcsteamy or mcdreamy or whatever i don’t know i don’t watch it

Dwight Enys 22:10 Imagine though like Dr Dwight McSteamy hahaha

Caroline 22:10 dWIGHT your name is DWIGHT that’s adorable really you sound like a little old man that reads newspapers and puts too much milk in his tea

Dwight Enys 22:13 Well not that far from the truth… I mean how much milk is too much milk

Caroline 22:15

Dwight Enys: 22:16 Ok that tea looks cold for a start Not really fair on me But yeah Would drink Ps. Does this mean you’re in love with me??????

Caroline 22:17 you’re disgusting p.s. piss offfff takes more than that to charm caroline penvenen.

Dwight tried to fight it but he was just too curious. He turned the Facebook app on and was ready to scan for infinite Caroline Penvenens.

Turns out it didn’t take him that long.

Caroline Penvenen

25 mutual friends including Ross Poldark and Demelza Carne

Dwight was absolutely stunned.

Like literally stunned.

He scanned through her photos even back to 2008 and she was still the most flawless human being he had ever seen. It couldn’t be the right Caroline.

It just couldn’t be,

How did Demelza and Ross even know her? How hadn’t he heard about her?

Well to be honest, he did massively zone out of all of their conversations.

Her profile was surprisingly open and he saw the last place she’d checked in was about five minutes from his house.

Not that he was stalking.

“Oh my god.” He sighed. “I’m being catfished by some kind of ethereal woman.”

Caroline 22:35 ok have given you adequate stalking time!!!! did you find me!!

Dwight Enys 22:37 Ok Caroline this is going to sound so weird but… You know Ross and Demelza??

Caroline 22:38 um yes i didn’t realise you’d stalked me with that much intensity should i be worried?

Dwight Enys 22:41 Oh God no sorry let me explain myself. Ross is actually my best friend He’s coming up as a mutual And so is Demelza haha

Caroline 22:42 omg who are you dwightttttt i am gonna stalk the hell out of you!!!

Dwight Enys 22:42 No please don’t

Caroline 22:43 it’s only fair brb omg let me send a screenshot is this you???

Dwight Enys

25 mutual friends including Verity Poldark and Ross Poldark

Caroline 22:47 hey dr mcsteamy your radio silence makes me feel like i have found you which makes me wonder how have we not met though?? maybe this is fate intervening like um guys it��s about time you met or whatever anyway guess the jig is up wow it’s going to be soooo awkward when we finally meet trust i am such a good actor no one will know i ever met you if that’s what you want ok bye

It took about a week before they undoubtedly crossed paths.

Horace was ill and Caroline was screaming down the phone to Demelza that she needed someone to come and sit with her whilst waiting for the vet.

“I will be all of two minutes, I still have my pyjamas on and I’m getting in the car!” Demelza insisted before hanging up and Caroline wept into her silk pyjamas with CP printed on the pocket as Horace continued to groan in pain.

“My poor baby.” She stroked his inflamed stomach. “My poor poor baby.”

Her doorbell rang and she raced to get it but there seemed to be an animated conversation happening as she opened the door.

“Demelza, I’m pretty sure this isn’t Sainsbu-” The voice cut off when they locked eyes with Caroline.

Dwight Enys as she lived and breathed.

“Where’s Horace?” Demelza demanded, marching straight in, a brush physically wedged in her hair and dinosaur onesie on.

Leaving Dwight and Caroline stood either side of the door, smiling awkwardly, barely able to make eye contact.

“Hi.” Caroline barely whispered. “Come in.”

“Thanks.” Dwight’s smile was tense but genuine as he followed her upstairs where Demelza was already stroking Horace.

She looked up. “Oh yeah sorry. This is Dwight. Dwight Caroline, Caroline Dwight.” She waved between the both of them and they shared a pained smile. “I offered Dwight a ride to Sainsbury's but he's a doctor so he could be of some use here I guess.”

“Well. I don't really do animals.” He shrugged. “But wouldn't hurt to try.”

He kneeled down next to Horace who immediately growled at him.

“That's so weird.” Demelza shook her head. “Horace is normally lovely.”

“Eh,” Caroline shrugged. “He's got a side.”

Dwight placed his hands on Horace’s stomach before nodding to himself. “It seems his stomach is a little inflamed from too much rich food.”

“I told you Caroline!” Demelza pointed accusingly. “Dwight she feeds him steak!”

“I can't believe you just ratted me out.” Caroline recoiled. “Only occasionally.”

“Well don't.” Dwight laughed a little. “Horace isn't seriously ill. The vet will give you a few things to make the inflammation go down but honestly, just stick to dog food.”

“And you say you aren't a vet.” Caroline teased, testing the waters.

“I'm really not. Would really appreciate a second opinion from an animal expert right now if I'm honest.” Dwight shrugged but he had a smile on his face.

“Well now we have tranquilized Caroline, we may as well go and buy you your ryvitas and other vegan shit you eat.” Demelza told Dwight. “But I've desperately got to go to the loo first. Meet me downstairs.”

She left in a hurry and Caroline stood up, suddenly very aware how much of a mess she looked with puffy eyes and creased pyjamas covered in dog hair.

“Well thank you anyway.” She looked him right in his cool blue eyes this time. “Dr Enys.”

He followed her down the stairs and she explained. “I knew we were bound to meet one day, I just didn't think I would look like,” she indicated to herself, “this.”

“Like what?” Dwight was honestly confused. “If my dog was ill, I would look a whole lot worse than you do. You should actually see me after a twelve hour shift.”

They both laughed at the thought before Dwight spoke again. “You know, I think Demelza has been trying to set us up for a while.”

Caroline began to link the dots in her head. “Seems about right.” She shook her head. “She's too cunning for me. But you never replied to my texts though.” She shrugged.

“Because I couldn't think of an answer. Maybe until I met you.”

She stood closer to him, slightly cutting his personal space. “Do you have one now?”

He replied. “No, but I have a question. Without the interference of our friends and fate, would you like to go on a date with me?”

I think we all know the answer.

Dr McSteamy 12:07 x

Caroline 12:08 xxxxxxxxxxxxx

#poldark #dwight x caroline #dwight enys #caroline penvenen #au #fic #jdisvidwfvb hope u like it

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the-final-straw-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Support Herman Bell & a discussion of the Signal App

Airs on WSFM-LP 103.3 in Asheville / streaming at AshevilleFM from 3am EST on October 16th through October 22nd and podcasting on libsyn.com.

For a 59 minute long, radio clean version for syndication purposes, please visit the archive.org collection.

Support Herman Bell

First this week, we had the opportunity to speak with Dr Kihana Mariah Ross, who is the daughter in law of Herman Bell, a former member of the Black Panther Party and a political prisoner who is currently clocking 44 years behind bars. We will speak about recent developments in his case, plus some historical context, and actionable items moving forward.

To learn more about Herman Bell and to read some of his writings, you can visit freehermanbell.org. To send him a card – and be aware that his 70th birthday is on January 14th and his upcoming parole hearing is in February 2018 – you can write to him at

Herman Bell 79 C 0262 Shawangunk CF P.O. Box 700 Wallkill, NY 12589-0700

How Best to use Signal?

In the second segment of today’s episode, we’ll air another conversation with William Budington, a digital security expert and trainer about the Signal end-to-end text encryption app for smart phones and desktops. Signal, produced by WhisperSys, is an easy to use, free means for folks to avoid one type of surveillance in their day to day communication. The ubiquitous, normalized use of encryption shields the purpose of the use, obscuring whether the practice is to shield illegal activity or not. In the conversation we talk about the human failure side of communication, as well as the informational leakage possibilities of the devices we use to engage Signal app. If you really enjoy the pie-baking/Betty Crocker metaphor, don’t despair, it doesn’t end with this segment. Check out more on this topic in our occasional series, Error-451.

Stay tuned soon for a conversation with William about burner phones and more. If you have a topic about digital security, devices and programs, surveillance or related topics, leave us a suggestion at [email protected] ! If you want our pgp key, check our website.

Editorial

Now, it’s my turn for a brief editorial, dear listeners. This is Bursts. I grew up in a part of so-called California known as Sonoma County, lands stolen from the Pomo and the Miwok peoples first by the Spanish, then by Mexico and Russia and then the U.S. I lived there from the mid-1980’s through 2009 and consider it my home in a way I could no other place. The rolling hills, the foggy mornings, the Coastal Live Oak groves, the nasty but 100 year old Eucalyptis groves, the early evening sky that turns a goldish orange into purple, the Manzanita, the people, the ocean breeze coming out from Bodega. These are things that I remember fondly from the deeply damaged yet still beautiful biome I called home for most (and definitely the more formative years) of my life.

This has been a year for spectacular disasters around this hemisphere, with a record 10th hurricane now appearing in the Carribean and southern U.S., 2 major earthquakes rocking Mexico and now the fires in Northern and Southern California. The fires in the north, which I’ve been paying more attention to because they QUITE literally bring home to me a sense of devastation I still haven’t been able to digest from this distance, have been whipped up by winds, a seasonal dryness out of the ordinary and fed by the aftermath of a wet winter that created a ton of easy-to-burn fuels. California has long been racked by fires, but never this many deaths and never have they consumed large parts of cities as they have with Santa Rosa. Thousands of homes have been turned to ash, monuments standing over a hundred years are cinders, human and non-human animals have been killed, damaged and displaced. California is yet another part of the world feeling the first hand effects of anthropogenic climate change, after years of over-taxing it’s water levels with large scale and animal and food agriculture, it’s manicured industrial lawns, the barely regulated weed industry booming, the building of human settlements in the middle of deserts and the idea promoted by high levels of industry and state that as the 6th largest economy in the world it could buy itself climate chaos. Day by day, year by year, this is proven more and more a delusion. But I digress.

I’d like to give a shout out to the brave folks doing search and rescue in my home away from home, the neighbors who look out for each other, that roused each other from sleep to escape the fire storms, who shelter and feed each other. Also to the fire professionals who are working to fight back the fires. An element of this that is under reported, of course, is the fact that over a thousand prisoners of the state of California and it’s included counties, are putting their lives on the line for $1 to $2.56 a day to train and then fight these blazes. That can be compared to the $31.85 an hour of the median hourly wage for non-inmate firefighters. I would like to bring this up because as the climate becomes more chaotic and the ever-tighter squeeze of austerity capitalism turns further and further away from more sustainable and stable incomes like unionized firefighters this continues a nasty trend.

Putting prisoners on the fire lines to fight the blazes, while more deadly for them than other modes of work, arguably offers them a potentially more meaningful and lucrative engagement with community service. This also fuels the profit motive of governments bent on incarcerating mostly poor communities of color, often people with chemical dependencies and neuro-divergencies the state can’t be bothered to treat but to stick them in a concrete and steel cage. More prisoners means more low-pay and expendable firefighters who’s crime was to be born the wrong color or class in the age of mass incarceration. I don’t bring this up to denigrate those risking themselves to save lives and homes, whether a prisoner or not, but to point out that this is not how a community organizes itself for it’s members, this is the logic of capital and thus streams value to the top of the pyramid.

My heart goes out to those who suffer at the hands of these fires. Let’s fight for futures where we are better prepared, where we don’t employ slave labor to fight them, and everyone has what they need to live in true community, which means true accountability to the impact of our survival on the non-human environment with which we share this awesome world.

If you’d like to help by sending some money to autonomous organizing for relief in Sonoma County, consider visiting https://generosity.com/emergencies-fundraising/northbay-iww-fire-relief-fund

Playlist

Check out this episode!

#anarchist #podcast #interview #feminist #antifa #anticapitalist

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