#TPDD

[ceilings-and-floores]

Where’s the flavor? What is this boring sound design?

[repugaytion]

Looove the concept of Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me but wondering if the production could have profited from a little more Wednesday Addams-esque atmosphere rather than be supported by the musical score of Horses Galloping into A Heroic Battle scene to get its message across

[winterrose527]

THE FATHOMINGS TONIGHT I'M UNWELLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

[nighttime-thoughts]

I love you, it's ruining my life.

[miley1442111]

fortnight-f.odair

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: yes, i am a swifty- sorry not sorry lmao. I was thinking of doing a story for every track but we'll see how that ends up lol.

intended for fem!reader

summary: based off of fortnight by taylor swift

pairings: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: regular hg topics, finnick's backstory, talk of being taken by the capital, talk of cheating, death, no happy ending

the tortured poets department masterlist

I was supposed to be sent away

But they forgot to come and get me

I was a functioning alcoholic

'Til nobody noticed my new aesthetic

All of this to say, I hope you're okay

But you're the reason

And no one here's to blame

But what about your quiet treason?

It had been 10 years since Finnick had seen you. He was in the victor's village. He was a victor. 

He cried himself to sleep every night thinking about you. His girl. 

Yes, you two were only 14 when he left, but he loved you all the same. Your soft smiles, good humour and eternal kindness. Every touch from one of the capitalites made him sick to his stomach, he was supposed to be for you. He had wanted to marry you, even when he was a young boy. He knew that you were it for him. 

And for a fortnight there we were forever running

'Til you sometimes ask about the weather

Now you're in my backyard turned into good neighbours

Your wife waters flowers, I wanna kill her

But, upon his joining of District 13, he saw you with your husband. James. You two were perfect. You were headstrong and he was supportive. He laughed at nothing other than your witty jokes. You essentially only smiled at him. Finnick felt sick to his stomach. 

He wanted your husband dead. Finnick had not waited a decade to find out that you loved someone else. He saw every smile, every beauty mark, everything about you. He bet James didn’t even know that your childhood dream was to become a vet and take care of the wildlife creatures in District 4. James was slimy in Finnick’s opinion. He was handsy with you, constantly touching you inappropriately, truthfully, it was disgusting. He could see you becoming visibly uncomfortable but staying quiet. 

He stayed quiet too. 

All my mornings are Mondays stuck in an endless February

I took the miracle move on drug, the effects were temporary

And I love you, it's ruining my life

I love you, it's ruining my life

I touched you for only a fortnight

I touched you, but I touched you

He decided to try and move on, try to forget you. Then you were taken, taken during a failed mission to get Peeta back. 

When they got you back, you were like a rabid animal. You screamed and screamed for him. 

For Finnick. 

And for a fortnight there we were forever running

'Til you sometimes ask about the weather

Now you're in my backyard, turned into good neighbours

Your wife waters flowers, I wanna kill her

And for a fortnight there we were together running

'Til you sometimes come and tug my sweater

Now you're at the mailbox turned into good neighbours

My husband is cheating, I wanna kill him

James discarded you, favouring a new girl who’d come in. Finnick nursed you back to health, helping you remember everything. He even told you about James’s cheating. You seemed unsurprised. 

“He’s cheating on you,” Finnick admitted. “I’m so sorry.”

You just shrugged, pulling your knees to your chest. “I know.”

“What?” He questioned.

“He’s been cheating his entire time. It’s ok with me, I don’t love James,” you whispered. 

“Then why did you marry him?” He asked, genuinely in disbelief. 

“You never came home,” You shrugged. 

His heart stopped. You still loved him. You still wanted him. 

“I’m here now,” he smiled and you smiled back. 

“Good,” you pressed your lips to his. “I’m here now too.”

He smiled and kissed you again.

I love you, it's ruining my life

I love you, it's ruining my life

I touched you for only a fortnight

I touched you, I touched you

I love you, it's ruining my life

I love you, it's ruining my life

I touched you for only a fortnight

I touched you, I touched you

Then came getting to the capital. Finnick went with them, he was back-up to make sure everything went well. It had only been a fortnight since you’d gotten together, but it was the happiest two weeks of either of your lives. 

Thought of calling ya, but you won't pick up

'Nother fortnight lost in America

Move to Florida, buy the car you want (Car you want)

But it won't start up 'til you touch, touch, touch me

Thought of calling ya, but you won't pick up

'Nother fortnight lost in America

Move to Florida, buy the car you want

But it won't start up 'til I touch, touch, touch you

He never came home. You only had him for a fortnight. Yet, he died happy, his last thoughts of your beautiful face.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the tortured poets department masterlist

[undermebius]

@tpdds

Yuki never said that she knew where Mikuru lived. It was to be expected, but would certainly be surprising. Especially given her initial resemblance to Haruhi, clicking the doorbell thirteen times, like a bear cub mimicking her mother.

She held up the present immediately upon the door opening, at arm's length.

"I am sorry for what you have endured as a result of my malfunctioning, and the necessity of your abilities therein."

Her head bowed between her outstretched arms.

"I am aware it is not sufficient. I did not know what you would like."

[politesper-rip]

@tpdds liked this post for a starter.

                     ‶  i can't help but wonder... do you act that way on purpose? ——— or is this truly just your character?  ″ alone in the clubroom together, the others having already left. mikuru had stayed behind to change, naturally, but while all the others headed home he lingered outside the door. he wished to speak one on one; a rare opportunity. put aside all pretenses and get a feel for just what it is she's doing here in the first place.

[digitalworid]

@tpdds

If there was one thing fundamental to the girl known as Haruhi Suzumiya, it was depression. Melancholy. A particular inclination towards staring out the window with a miserable expression on her face that brought the world down with her.

Haruhi was more than emotionally driven. Her heart ruled her mind and actions. It owned her. The chemical disarray of her biology, which so often made the world look clearer, more colourful, just as frequently and erratically turned life into a monochrome nightmare, an unbearable weight, a slog.

On occasion her depression would weigh so heavily on her that her vice commander would go missing for more of the week than he was present, which hampered her ability to refocus onto the project that was the SOS Brigade, thus compelling her deeper into her misery, and so on, creating a death spiral from which her mood could not be drawn out of.

Thus was the state of the current Haruhi Suzumiya. The intensity of her depressive episode weighed heavily on the clubroom, a suffocating tension permeating from that glare into the sky which seemed to ask where her happiness had run off to.

[indentedheartner]

@tpdds

Ken opened the clubroom dorm without knocking. Though it was a necessity for the older boys of the club, Ken had enough of a commute to North High that it was irrelevant, rare enough as it was that he came to the actual clubroom and not solely weekend outings.

"Asahina. Nagato." The latter was too absorbed in her book to be relevant, and wouldn't receive another acknowledgement from the kid for the rest of his visit. A scant two months ago, neither of them would've gotten a greeting whatsoever. At best, he would've demanded the chief's whereabouts. He had progressed from a disrespectful, blunt little pest to a disrespectful, blunt, but relatively quiet little brat.

In short, he had mellowed out somewhat. Not enough to refer to his upperclassmen as such, but enough that he didn't hit anyone for accidentally touching him.

He kicked his legs under the table while he waited for the obligatory tea, then immediately started dumping far too much sugar into Mikuru's hard work, like the eleven year old he was.

As usual, he looked exhausted.

[arthurflecksgirl]

[ceilings-and-floores]

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me, no context

[repugaytion]

Clara Bow🤝 Nothing New 🤝 the Lucky One🤝 mirrorball

[braveryhearted]

He was prepared to enter the clubroom with a scowl on his face, a permanent stay that followed him wherever he went but instead his features somewhat soften, finding the clubroom empty, saved for one person.

"Hey, you all by yourself today? No Haruhi?"

Kyon jokes, his guard a lot more down when talking to Mikuru. Just being without the chaos and having a quiet conversation with the other put his mind at ease for the moment.

@tpdds liked for a starter. ( requested Kyon )

[haus-der-mysterionmusen]

"The nature of the refreshment does not matter however the effects humans have when drinking tea will most likely be needed by you." The alien girl finally walks all the way into the room and with a motion like a doll which has been wound up raises one hand for a moment and then lowers it.

"There is a section of data inside this apartment which has become corrupted. That is why I have come."

of   course   ...   of   course,   of   course,   of   course   —   by   this   point,   she   had   come   to   expect   with   yuki   that   things   would   either   be   cut   and   dry   or   starkly   the   opposite   :   that   she'd   get   either   exactly   the   answer   she   anticipated   [   something   remarkably   brusque   and   abrupt   ]   or   nothing   at   all.   thus   far,   it   seemed   as   though   she   was   opting   for   the   latter.   and   that   was   fine,   that   was   okay   /   it   was   something   mikuru   had   by   all   means   adapted   herself   to   by   this   point.   as   she   does.   as   she   always   does.

❝   um,   it's   ...   it's   alright   for   you   to   sit   down,   if   you'd   like.   i   was   actually   about   to   brew   myself   some   of   the   new   loose   tea   i   got   —   with   blue   spirulina   and   ginger   —   if   you'd   like   a   cup,   as   well   ...   !   ❞

she   won't   push   for   a   proper   answer.   that's   not   her   role,   not   something   she's   ever   felt   inclined   towards.   being   pushy,   that   is.   as   far   as   she   was   concerned,   her   home   was   open,   and   she   was   there,   and   that   was   all   she   needed   to   be.

[undermebius]

[ unreciprocated hug ] [ we know who isn't reciprocating LOL ]

[ types of hug ]

Yuki's eyes went to the girl hugging her immediately, but her head didn't twitch by even a millimetre. She stared almost curiously, at the contact. Most actions humans took were a mystery to her, but this one was especially so.

But the embrace wasn't unpleasant, even if it wasn't reciprocated. Mikuru Asahina was a particularly soft individual, especially from the front, and the other girl's bangs tickled her skin as she was held close. Her hair smelt nice. She wondered why humans were disinclined to say such things out loud, it was a compliment, wasn't it?

Human customs were strange and confusing, and nice. Like hugging.

About thirty seconds passed before Yuki reached up and ran her hand through Mikuru's hair. Not a hug back, but still a reciprocal gesture.

"...Soft."

[politesper-rip]

@tpdds sent in: ❝ ah, um ... happy birthday, koizumi - kun ! ❞ what does she have for him ? why, it's a 1 of only 1500 copies made version of nietzsche's thus spake zarathustra, with glassine jacket in pristine condition and everything ! expertly wrapped, of course. what kind of fool would give someone a birthday gift that isn't wrapped up with a cute little bow.

                     ever polite, he takes the gift with a smile, giving the usual pleasantries. "oh, thank you!"s and "you shouldn't have!"s — he unwraps it carefully, peeling back the paper without so much a tearing it. upon seeing what's inside... the facade breaks for but a moment. eyes widened in genuine surprise — is that a flash of genuine excitement?

                     ‶  how did you get your hands on this?  ″ a new smile spreads across his face. a real one; such a rare sight these days. he examines the book carefully, looking it over with an expert eye.  ‶  this is incredible... thank you asahina-san — this is truly above and beyond.  ″