Sodapop Curtis was easily the most amazing person I had ever met. His outlook on life was so different and wonderful. I could spend hours on end with him. He had no idea how much I adored him. I’m pretty sure he thought I was just a friend, but I didn’t think of him that way.
“Soda?” I said as I sat on the counter at the DX. “Hm?” he said. Buisness had been really slow that day, so it didn’t really bug him that I was sitting on the counter. “Soda, where’s Steve?” I asked. “Steve had to run a quick errand but he’ll be back soon.” Soda said walking to some boxes and shifting through them.
Steve was gone. It was just the two of us. Now was the time. I slid off the counter and stood up straight.
He looked at me and stood up. “Come over here and make me.” he said. I walked behind the counter and over to him. I grabbed his shirt and pulled him to my height. I kissed him deeply. He swung me around and dipped me.
I giggled. “Oh Y/N, I was hoping you might like me back.” he said happily. I smiled and kissed him again. I had my back against the wall as I kissed him. He smiled under the kiss as his hands ran all over me. I smiled and rested my forehead against his happily. Soda kissed me again and we heard the door open.
We looked up, it was just Steve. “Soda? Where’s my hello kiss?” Steve said with his hands on his hips. Soda rolled his eyes and laughed and kissed me again.
I thought I’d make this post to remind everyone that if you see content on another person’s blog or website that has me credited with granting my permission to have said blog/website use any outlines/pages/pieces of writing, permission has not been given. If contacted for permission, I make it perfectly clear that any copying or use of my work is not allowed, and if copying occurs, I get very angry.
If you see anything of mine out there that is not connected to my blog, please message me a link to whatever it is you’ve found.
I’m currently dealing with a blog that has copied my Triggers page and included a link to my post about my real life friend who is no longer alive and I am incredibly angry about it. If, by the end of the day, this blog has not deleted my outline and my content from their blog (yep, this includes the title of their page), we might need to start messaging them together to get our point across. Some of their triggers page is their own. Only, they told me they weren’t writing triggers, so I said “hey. as long as you make your own page, go for it! We need more people refusing to write triggers, just don’t use my outline or my content” and whoops, they’re writing triggers, they’re using my content, they’re crediting me as having given them permission to use said outline, so this entire ordeal has been incredibly frustrating. No anon hate or hurtful messages, of course, but most of the time people agree to take my stuff off of their blogs when upwards of ten people message them. So hang tight, minions. We might need to band together.
This blog did contact me about using my outline, and I told them I did not want them copying my page in any way. I gave them an example of the time another blog copied my page, right down to a link about my dead friend, and they did not reply. I was notified today that they had created a page and were, in fact, using my outline, my title, and my link to the story about my dead friend, so I’m officially on the warpath. Again. Because it’s always a surprise that I don’t want my content used by other people. This is an entirely new concept. I don’t even have a “people who thought stealing was suddenly legal” tag about all the times this has happened before.
This is as much a PSA as a reminder to the blog in question, as they have not answered my message about the use of my page on their blog. So… yeah. Don’t take other people’s stuff.
There was a small clock, ticking away on the kitchen counter. Every tick of the clock sounded a bit too sharp, a bit too much like a deadly sound. Your tired eyes glanced over at the small object, and you groaned, frowning against the brim of your cup of coffee. “Stupid o’ clock.” You mumbled, the bright light of the computer straining your eyes. The stairs creaked gently, and you glanced over towards the noise.
“Still up?” Spencer’s soft voice sounded like music to your ears. She had offered to let you stay at her house while your parents were gone. You certainly weren’t complaining. Ever since you were in the middle of a close encounter between A and the Liars, they had let you in on the horrible, huge secret that was A. You had decided to help them solve the puzzle. Of course, it felt exciting; tracking down this mysterious person, putting an end to their dark crimes, but you would be lying if you denied that the main reason you were doing this was because of Spencer.
You nodded, wiping your eyes and trying to appear more awake. You knew this was a loosing battle, but it made you feel a bit better. “I think I might have a lead here, but I could be wrong.” She frowned at you in concern, her eyes barely glancing at the screen. “(Y/n), I don’t want you losing sleep over this. You don’t need to stay up until two in the morning to help us, you’ve done enough.”
“I’m so close,” you replied, trying to type again. She gently pushed your hands away from the keyboard, shutting the lap top and pushing it aside. “You’re going to sleep, whether you want to or not.” You finally obliged, standing up sleepily. You were making your way to the couch that you had been sleeping, when you felt a hand hold you back.
“You’re going to sleep in my bed tonight.”
Needless to say, you were entirely confused. “You’ve been doing so much for me, the least I can do is offer you my bed.” You smiled at her, starting to thank her. She hushed you, pulling you into a hug.
It was absolutely incredible, to be hugging Spencer. She was quite a bit taller than you, so you rested your head on her chest. She, in turn, rested her chin on the top of your head, wrapping her arms around you. She smelled warm, like books and a burning fire and coffee with cinnamon.
You were happy to be helping the Liars with A, but you couldn’t help yourself from wishing that somewhere along the way, she would fall in love with you, just as you had fallen in love with her.