#2014 takeover

[timelordsandkittens]

This planet's got a custom, and Tegan and Nyssa feel it's only appropriate to take part in the local culture.

Chapter three is up!

[gruhukens]

femslash #2014 takeover | februrary | love letters

jess x ruby college au [cw supernatural]

Jess leaves love letters like pinned butterflies under Ruby’s pillow.

Every morning, Ruby reaches under, unfolds, smooths out, reads the way Jess’ affection soaks with the ink into the paper. u’ll do great on ur test today!!! xoxo. breakfast is on the table mmmmm. don’t mind prof crowley ur essay was gr8!!

Ruby looks between the lines - it’s not difficult, it’s all there, because that’s what she’s trained for, to hypothesize and to theorize and to extrapolate the given evidence, and it’s all there. I don’t want you to be anxious, Jess writes, in bubbly and metallic glitter pen. I want you to feel cared for. I want you to know that you’ve got someone on your side.

Now, Ruby knows what she can do with this: has eighteen, nineteen, twenty years worth of knowing exactly how far you can fuck someone up with affection, turning love back on itself, twisting it into a weapon. It could be funny. It could give her that rush of power. It has done before.

But she doesn’t want to do that.

And she wonders when romance and affection became something that warmed her, rather than disgusted her; when a pretty and straightlaced girl like Jess could turn her head faster than a six pack and a syringe of dope. Ruby wonders when an actual human being making actual human contact became bearable - desirable - needed, rather than something to avoid at all costs.

It should be suffocating, but it’s not. It’s warming. Fulfilling. Last week, she handed in two essays, cried at a banal movie and exchanged small talk with a small dark haired girl in her seminar group, and now she can’t remember what it was like to walk through college corridors like a ghost in a crowd, feeling totally disconnected apart from people around her.

Now, she does dinner dates and text messages and footsie under breakfast tables. Now, she wakes to a girlfriend, to quiet, homely flat, to love letters under her pillow.

She breathes deep; wonders, quietly, what happened to all that anger. If, in the act, of falling in love with Jess, filling up with love took up all the space of hate.

It’s morning. Ruby opens her eyes, slowly. The pillow crinkles beneath her. Reach under, unfold, smooth out, read. i rly hope you have a good day <3

i love you too, Ruby writes on the other side, and slips it under Jess’ pillow.

[callumanders]

Fic: Fasten You to Me Rating: T Pairing: Brittana Notes: Little drabble written for the 2014 Takeover. And also written for lazarusgirl, who always deserves a bit of good cheer but especially deserves it now. Summary: "Santana is very specific about the things she collects."

People don’t know that Santana collects things. Thanks to Rachel and Kurt, people know she’s a snoop, but she’s managed to keep her collecting quiet because then no one would ever want to live with her again.

It’s not like she’s a hoarder. She doesn’t keep useless crap and she doesn’t steal stuff from other people because most of the time, anything that doesn’t belong to her falls under the category of “useless crap.”

Santana is very specific about the things she collects.

/

Hi, Santana.

It’s me. I mean, you know it’s me because you just saw me put this into your backpack but my third grade teacher taught me that you should always identify yourself in a letter, so I am.

Hi, Santana, it’s Brittany Pierce, and I think you look really beautiful today.

P.S. Can you buy me some fries at lunch because I ran out the door this morning and grabbed Post-Its instead of money.

/

Hi, Santana.

I’m writing you a note because Mrs. Hagberg stares at me if I just sit here and she never blinks and it’s kind of creepy. You should have taken science with me this semester; we did an experiment today and ours kind of exploded and now I smell like corn chips. I know those are your favorite because you always steal mine when we have movie marathons.

I’ve been thinking about what you said about me being the unicorn and you’re totally right. Sometimes it’s hard, you know, because I don’t think other people really understand me all the time. I have ideas and they’re really good and I want other people to think that too, only they don’t always. But you do and you’re right about a lot of things, so maybe I should start listening.

Can you help me with campaign stuff when we get home?

I love you.

/

Hi, Santana.

Kurt just farted and it sounded like when you squeeze those fancy perfume bottles with the mini air pumps.

Just in case you wondered why I was laughing so much.

/

Hi, Santana.

I know Shakespeare and a bunch of other poets used to write sonnets for the people they loved but I don’t know how to write a sonnet and I don’t like things that rhyme. But right now you need to hear about all the things I love about you because I think this commercial is making you forget, or maybe I’m just whispering them too quietly and your fear is really loud. There are a lot of parts to you, Santana, and I love every one of them, except for maybe the part that steals all the covers at night. Nobody likes to wake up cold.

I love how you stick your tongue between your teeth when you think something’s really funny. I love how you always taste like vanilla. I love that you roll your eyes at Mercedes when she tries to be in charge but you end up listening to her anyway. I love you when you’re brave. I love you when you’re afraid. I love you when you cry and when you yell and especially when you laugh. I love how loved you make me feel.

You told me I was a unicorn and I believed you, so I’m telling you now that you’re better than one stupid commercial and one stupid jock.

And also I love you.

/

Hi, Santana.

It’s Valentine’s Day and I don’t really know what to say.

Thank you.

/

Hi, Santana.

My mom took video during Nationals and you looked so pretty in your dress and I took a bunch of screengrabs and saved them to my phone.

You look beautiful in every color but if you wanted to wear just red for the rest of your life, I wouldn’t complain.

/

Hi, Santana.

School is different without you and Quinn and Kurt and Rachel. It feels kind of like being back in seventh grade only I don’t have high school to look forward to this time. I mean, I guess maybe I could look forward to college but I don’t know what I want to do and you always seem so busy with a million things and I can barely do three things at once.

Tell me when there’s a football game and I’ll come and watch you cheer. Remember, we’re not that far away from each other.

I miss you.

/

Hi, Santana.

I don’t know what to say but it doesn’t feel right not to talk to you.

You still sing Taylor Swift better than she does.

/

Hi, Santana.

I found one of your sweatshirts in my closet. If you want it back, that’s okay, but I kind of hope you don’t.

Everyone says hi. Unique says it twice and that you still owe her some eyeliner.

Remember that one time Quinn almost fell from the top of the pyramid and you had to catch her by her Spankies? I thought about that today and laughed. I hope you do, too.

/

Hi, Santana.

Quinn said you went to New York and Kurt called me yelling about it and Blaine looked like he wanted to cry when I mentioned it. Have you noticed how much he cries? Maybe he and Tina should have a contest.

You’re going to do so well, I know it. You’re so much better than you think you are and one day I’m going to make you really believe that.

/

Hi, Santana.

I got into MIT.

Did you know Boston and New York are, like, really close? Well, closer than New York and Lima anyway.

P.S. Does your singing diner take requests? Because I might have a few.

/

Hi, Santana.

If you’re reading this, it’s because Rachel did her job and gave it to you, and that probably means Kurt did his job, too.

You should turn around. Like, right now.

/

Hi, Santana.

You’re going to be late for work if you look at me like that every morning. You know I’m powerless against your pouty lip.

P.S. You left the milk on the counter overnight so I threw it out. I know you don’t like Norbert but he has to drink something. Can you go to the store on your way home? I’ve got a late class.

P.P.S. I love you.

P.P.P.S. A lot.

[timelordsandkittens]

Tegan and Nyssa exchange letters through space and time.

I wrote another chapter!

[ondominatingtheworld]

Slow start this morning. Have to push off taking over the world till tomorrow. Sorry Ben Franklin..