When Five Fell

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Oh, the whole talk about people falling in love with objects reminded me of this seriously incredibly beautiful short film that Wong Fu Productions produced.

It’s called When Five Fell and is about what I like to call reverse objectum sexuality.

For those of you who are looking for a dose of inspiration, something thought provokingly interesting or just looking for creativity to be in awe of, I insist you click play.

love, S.

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When Five Fell - Wong Fu Productions

This is so beautiful you don’t even understand

When Five Fell

The morning is when she lingers. It’s before the world wants anything from her. And…that’s when she’s most beautiful. It’s true, not many saw her like that, but I can’t say I was the only one. Even though we each had our own beginnings, mornings like this were shared between us all.

She used to tell people that it was like the world was drawn with a dull piece of charcoal. That was before me. Now that she sees things my way, everything makes a little more sense.


This is me. If I’m meant for anything, it’s to show her the world. Is that so bad?

A quiet morning, like the many before it, calm, comfortable…but comfort can be terribly blinding. The difference with this particular morning is in a call.
She smiles…for who? I can’t see anymore.

She tells me she wants to be a raindrop. She doesn’t mind falling, as long as she’s not alone. And raindrops are never alone. She always has a new story to tell me. Today, it’s about being a raindrop. I wish I could’ve been there, ‘cause stories aren’t always enough, and words, can only go so far.


This is me. Sometimes, I wonder if she’s still talking to me, or if I’m just…eavesdropping. It used to be everyday, sometimes for hours, sometimes for minutes. Healthy relationships are based on communication. But her words, however sweet and real, sound so distant. Now, they flow past me effortlessly, as if they were meant for someone else.

She must know what she does to me. Her every touch, every time she holds my hand, every time she holds me close…

This is me. If you hold my hand, I’ll be yours forever. A simple promise, that’s all I can offer. Is it enough? It may be too late for me. It may be too late.

Anyone can look from a distance, a stranger can look from a distance. What’s so special about that? But to know her scent…it means something else. It means we’ve been close, closer than anyone else. I dare say I’m lucky. But when she doesn’t want me, when she’s away, and it’s just her scent with me, I can only feel…forgotten.


This is me…left behind. Am I the stranger now?

There are those nights when it’s just the two of us, when she softly hides in her own thoughts, and only one thing seems to melt the cold silence: a kiss.

This is me. Ask me what the perfect day tastes like, and I’ll say, 'her lips’. She was my first kiss. That has to mean something, something sure and true. Because the taste of a pure kiss can’t be shared. It’s the dreadfully romantic idea that there can be only one. The question is, am I her only one? I’m afraid the truth will break me. But her kiss is convincing. I’m not her only one.

She said she wanted to be a raindrop, and today, it finally broke us. She had found her own to fall with; her own to fall for. Today, she was a raindrop.

http://youtu.be/pSrXMFcQ4dY

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When Five Fell

The morning is when she lingers. It’s before the world wants anything from her and that’s when she’s most beautiful. It’s true that not many saw her like that but I can’t say I was the only one. Even though we each have our own beginnings, mornings like this were shared between us all.

She used to tell people that it was like the world was drawn with a dull piece of charcoal. That was before me. Now that she sees things my way, everything makes a little more sense. This is me. If I’m meant for anything, it’s to show her the world. Is that so bad?
The quiet morning like the many before it, calm and comfortable, but comfort can terribly blinding. The difference with this particular morning is in a call. She smiles, for who? I can’t see anymore.

She tells me she wants to be a raindrop. She doesn’t mind falling as long as she’s not alone and raindrops are never alone. She always had a new story to tell me: today it’s about being a raindrop. I wish I could’ve been there cause stories aren’t always enough and words can only go so far. This is me. Sometimes I wonder if she’s still talking to me or if I’m just eavesdropping. It used to be everyday, sometimes for hours, sometimes for minutes. Healthy relationships are based on communication but her words however sweet and real sounds so distant and now, they float pass me effortlessly as if they were meant for someone else.

She must know what she does to me; her every touch, every time she holds my hands, every time she hold me close. This is me. If you hold my hand I’ll be yours forever. A simple promise, that’s all I can offer. Is it enough? It may be too late for me, it may be too late.

Anyone can look from a distance. A stranger can look from a distance, what’s so special about that? But, to know her scent is something else. It means we’ve been close, closer than anyone else. I dare say I’m lucky but when she doesn’t want me, when she’s away and it’s just her scent with me, I can only feel forgotten. This is me, left behind. Am I the stranger now?

There are those nights when it’s just two of us and she softly hides in her own thoughts when only one thing seems to melt the cold silence: a kiss. This is me. Ask me what the perfect day tastes like and I’ll say her lips. And she was my first kiss, it has to mean something, something sure and true because a taste of a pure kiss can’t be shared. It’s the dreadfully romantic idea but there can only be one. The question is, am I her only one? I’m afraid the truth will break me, but her kiss is convincing: I’m not her only one.

She said she wanted to be a raindrop and today it finally broke us. She’d found her own to fall with, her own to fall for.

Today, she was a raindrop.

Try mouthing the words along with the video.

When Five Fell Script-written by Wesley Chan

The morning, is when she lingers. It’s before the world wants anything from her. And, that’s when she’s most beautiful. It’s true not many saw her like that. But I can’t say I was the only one. Even though we each had our own beginnings, mornings like this, were shared between us all.

She used to tell people that it was like the world was strung with a dull piece of charcoal. That was before me. Now that she sees things my way, everything makes a little more sense. This is me. If I’m in for anything, it’s to show her the world. Is that so bad?

The quiet morning like the many before it, calm, comfortable. But comfort can be terribly blinding. The difference with this particular morning, is in a call.

She smiles. For who? I can’t see anymore. She tells me she wants to be a raindrop. She doesn’t mind falling, as long as she’s not alone. And raindrops, are never alone. She always has a new story to tell me. Today, it’s about being a raindrop. I wish I could have been there, because stories aren’t always enough. And words, can only go so far. This is me. Sometimes I wonder if she’s still talking to me, or I’m just eavesdropping. It used to be everyday, sometimes for hours, sometimes for minutes. Healthy relationships are based on communication. But her words, however sweet and real, sound so distant. Now, they flow past me effortlessly, as if they were meant for someone else.

She must know what she does to me. Her every touch, every time she holds my hand, every time she holds me close. This is me. If you hold my hand, I’ll be yours forever. A simple promise. That’s all I can offer. Is it enough? It may be too late for me, it may be too late.

Anyone can look from a distance. A stranger can look from a distance. What’s so special about that? But to know her scent, means something else. It means, we’ve been close, closer than anyone else. I dare say I’m lucky. But when she doesn’t want me, or she’s away, and it’s just her scent, with me. I can only feel, forgotten. This is me, left behind. Am I the stranger now?

There are those nights, where its just the two of us. And she softly hides in her own thoughts, and only one thing seems to melt the cold silence. A kiss. This is me. Ask me what the perfect day tastes like? And I’ll say, Her lips. She was my first kiss, it has to mean something, something sure and true. Because a taste of a pure kiss can’t be sure, it’s the dreadfully romantic idea. But there can be only one. The question is, am I, her only one? I’m afraid the truth will break me. But her kiss is convincing. I’m not her only one.

She said she wanted to be a raindrop, but today it finally broke us. She had found her own default, her own default form. Today, she was a raindrop.

The glasses represent sight. In a relationship, there are times when our one desire is to share with the other person. We hope to offer a new perspective. To learn and grow from each other in that way. To show the world. Unfortunately, nothing stays clear forever. Many things can blind us: jealousy, doubt, overthinking, and ironically, comfort.

The phone represents hearing. Relationships can’t exist without listening and communication. Sometimes, circumstances prevent people from communicating face to face. That distance greatly effects them. We hear about experiences when what we really want is to live them. Words can only go so far. The phone is interesting because it is constantly eavesdropping on our talks. What would that feel like? To always be talked to but never the subject of conversation. It must hurt to be so unknowingly ignored.

The umbrella represents touch. The very simple idea of being close enough to touch someone. Physical contact. To be able to hold, cover, protect. These are basic parts of a relationship we hope to fulfill. Essentially an umbrella reflects occasional necessity. But who would want that? To feel needed when it’s only convenient.

The scarf represents smell. The intimacy of knowing someones scent is very special. It’s a privelege that isn’t easily shared and is often overlooked. It may sound ridiculous, but who are the people you can identifty with smell? Most likely those that you are very close with. People you have known for more than awhile. Also, scents can fade. Physical contact carries and transfers a scent but when that contact disappears, the scent is no longer.

The cup represents taste. More specifically, the cup represents a kiss. And a kiss is the most universal symbol of love and affection. The fact that it describes a first kiss is even more significant. A first kiss is innocent and naive. We cherish it as though it will last forever. But when the cup is broken, the kiss is no longer possible– just like a relationship.

A pair of glasses that goes blind. A phone that resorts to eavesdropping. An umbrella that longs to be held. A scarf that treasures scent. A cup that wants to be kissed. These are the ways I tried to personify the objects to show they fell in and out of love. Between the five, viewers should be able to relate to different dimensions and roles of a relationship. Whether it’s budding in the early stages, the challenge of long distance, slowly fading feelings, or losing out to someone else. Even the order of the objects in the short show a progression in the relationship. Starting from looking and eventually moving onto touching.

Late nights

Just a little something I wrote because I can’t sleep. I really need this right now.

….

Late nights with Harry were always memorable. But the best times were when it wasn’t even night anymore; it had long passed into the next morning but you were too hung up on eachother to care.

You were sitting on the couch, some reality show playing in the background but neither of you were paying attention. This type of night always started off with deep conversation, but eventually transformed into mindless giggles and stupid jokes when you were both too tired to form real thoughts.

His arm was around you, tightly tucking you into his side while you felt his chest vibrate after your latest remark. A quick glance at the clock told you it was just after four in the morning, and you weren’t exactly sure how you’d managed to stay up this late.

You found yourself looking up at Harry while he studied your face, a soft smile forming on his lips.

“So fucking pretty.” He muttered, leaning down to kiss your lips in a sloppy way that left you leaning in for another one after he pulled back.

He still had that smug smile after you were both done, his lips slightly redder now.

His hair was ruffled, and there were clearly bags under his eyes, but neither of you wanted to sleep. Why would you give up such a perfect moment like this, just because you were a little tired?

“You know how much I love you, right?” His voice was extra raspy now, sending chills down your spine as heat rose to your cheeks.

“Hey now,” He leaned down to kiss both your cheeks, tilting your head back up so you could see his little smirk again.

“No blushing, baby. ’S'just me.”

His thumb lazily trailed over your cheek, keeping your face gently held in his hand. The contrast of his cold metal rings was soothing against your hot skin, making you lean further into his touch and close your eyes at the comforting feeling.

“But in case you didn’t know… I love you, like… freaking loads, baby.”

You both started laughing, because as much as either of you tried, nobody could seem to get the right words out.

“I love you too.”

….

It was almost five when you finally fell asleep. Your head was leaning on Harry’s chest, and he laid awake for longer than he’d admit just because he wanted to admire you. How your hair fell in front of your face, that adorable freckle under your left eye, and the way your nose subconsciously scrunched whenever he tapped it. It was so peaceful; he wished it could stay this way forever.

Within a few minutes of falling asleep, you woke up to shift so your head was laying in his lap, your face snuggled into his tummy.

He wanted to move you both into the bed, but you just looked so comfortable; and he was already starting to doze off as well. He was pretty sure he’d trip up the stairs if he tried to get up now.

He knew he shouldn’t fall asleep like this, because he’d wake up with an awful cramp in his neck the next morning if he did, but it was a little difficult to move with your head on his legs.

His hand slowly stroked through your hair, trying to wake you up without startling you.

“Baby… Hey, we just need to re-situate here; wake up, gorgeous.”

His soothing voice finally made you stir, and he was quick to help you sit up and get some pillows and blankets ready on the couch.

“All better, yeah? Let’s get you all comfy again.”

He laid down, pulling your back against his chest and fighting to keep his eyes open so he could make sure you were comfortable. The couch isn’t exactly meant for sleeping, but it certainly works when you want to be extra close.

He smiled when you half-consciously turned around, nuzzling your head into his neck and releasing a content sigh. He loved holding you any way, but this was by far the best. Keeping you tightly pressed against him, he loved feeling your warm breath tickle his neck while you slept. And it left your lips in the perfect position to place kisses all over him when it was finally time to wake up.

He rubbed your back until he eventually didn’t even have the energy to keep that up anymore, and he kissed the top of your head before closing his eyes.

“I love you, baby.”

He knew you couldn’t hear, but he hoped those words worked their way into one of your dreams somehow. Because you always needed to know you were loved, even at five in the morning when you were asleep.

At that moment, you were both right where you needed to be. Happy, peaceful, but most importantly- together.

Decisions Decisions *Requested* (Part 2/2)

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Angst/Drama

Words: 1,200

“I ain’t just letting you walk out of here.” Daryl said firmly, placing his hand over the doorknob. You grabbed his arm with all your strength and tried to drag him away from the door. “Let me the fuck go!” You screamed at him, starting to hit his chest, which didn’t hurt him at all. He let you vent and take it out on him, he knew he deserved it. The more you hit him the weaker you became, this was too much. As soon as you stopped hitting him, he pulled you into his arms. “How could you say that to me?” You asked, not hugging him back. Your arms were still at your sides, as his strong arms wrapped around your waist. He pulled back a little, looking into your tear filled eyes for a few moments. “I’ll, I’ll bring ya back in the mornin’.” Daryl said, looking down. His chest tightened as soon as those words let his mouth. He couldn’t live without you, but he would do whatever he had to, to make you happy again.

Daryl turned around, opening the door and shutting it behind him, letting you have the room to yourself. You stood there looking at the door with your mouth hanging open. Daryl sat down outside the door, leaning up against it and you did the same thing. “No one’s gonna care about you like I do little brother, always remember that.” Merles voice echoed through Daryl’s mind.

****

When you woke up you realized you were in the same position that you were in last night, still leaning against the door. It was still dark outside, but it had to be early morning. The events of yesterday flooded your mind and you let out an exhausted sigh. You stood up, grabbing your bag and opened the bedroom door, to see Daryl laying on the floor fast asleep in the hallway.You carefully stepped over him and made your way into the kitchen/living room. “Good mornin’ sunshine.” Merle said from the couch, startling you a bit because you hadn’t seen him. “Morning.” You said, taking a seat on one of the big chairs. “Wanna explain to me why my little brother is sleepin’ on the floor?” Merle asked and you shook your head. He scoffed in response. Unbeknownst to you he was happy that something went on between the two of you last night, he was scared shitless that his brother was going to leave him for you. “Yea fuckin’ right, we’re blood.” Merle thought to himself.

A few minutes later and Daryl stepped into the room and your eyes snapped towards him. “Um, we should get goin’.” Daryl said, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder. “What’s the rush?” Merle asked. “Waistin’ daylight.” Daryl stated matter of factly. Daryl didn’t wan’t to tell Merle that he was bringing you back to the prison, because he wouldn’t hear the end of it. Merle would find out soon enough and he wanted to delay that as long as possible.

****

You were only walking for five minutes when you fell into step next to Daryl. You needed to speak to him before things went any further. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” You said grabbing Daryl’s hand. I shouldn’t have treated you like that.. It wasn’t all your fault. I understand why you left.” You admitted to him. “Mm sorry too, I was an asshole.” He said making you chuckle a little and nod your head in agreement. You cupped his face and brought him down for a kiss. “I’ll follow you anywhere, Daryl Dixon.” You whispered against his lips. “Alright enough! Fuckin’ matin’ goin’ on here.” Merle grumbled, rushing ahead. You rolled your and kissed Daryl again, thankful that you were able to clear the air. Even if you did go back to the prison, you knew you wouldn’t be the same without him there with you.

****

“We can’t just leave ‘em like that.” Daryl said to Merle. There was a family stuck in a car, with walkers surrounding it. “They gotta learn the hard way, it’s every man for himself nowadays.” Merle stated matter of factly. “You’re such a coward.” You told Merle and took off towards the family in need, with Daryl following closely behind you. You quickly took your knife out of its sheath and killed two walkers that were about to a grab a man. Daryl shot the rest with his crossbow, while Merle just stood there and watched. Daryl went towards the front of the car and saw a woman holding a little baby who was crying. “Yer gonna be alrigh’.” Daryl told them, nodding his head.

Daryl turned around when he heard yelling coming from the two men. He then noticed Merle trying to take some things out of their car. “Leave it.” Daryl said sternly to Merle. “They were bein’ rude they owe us, we just saved their lives.” Merle said rolling his eyes. “They don’t owe us nothin’.” Daryl seethed raising his crossbow and pointing it at Merle. “Get out of here.” Daryl told them and the men rushed into the car, immediately driving off. “The shit you doin’, pointin’ that thing at me?” Merle asked and Daryl slowly lowered his crossbow. “You helpin’ people out of the goodness of yer heart now? Is that somethin’ Sheriff Rick taught ya hm? ” Merle asked. “There was a baby!” Daryl yelled at him. “Oh, otherwise you would have left them to the biters, then?” Merle asked. “Man, I went back for ya! You weren’t there. I didn’t cut of yer hand neither. You did that. Way before they locked you up on that roof. Ya asked for it.” Daryl said pointing his finger at him.

“Ya know what’s funny to me? I bet you didn’t tell all your new friends that we were gonna rob that camp blind.” Merle said, making your eyes widen. What? “It didn’t happen!” Daryl defended himself. “Yeah, it didn’t. ‘Cause I wasn’t there to help ya!” Merle retaliated. “What, like when we were kids huh!? Who left who then?” Daryl shouted. “What?! Is that why I lost my hand?” Merle asked. “You lost yer hand ‘cause yer a simple-minded piece of shit!” Daryl yelled turning around and walking away from his brother. Merle grabbed the back of Daryl’s shirt ripping it off his back.

“Please stop!” You shouted at him, but he wasn’t going to listen to you. Merle tore Daryl’s shirt and his expression immediately changed to a horrified look. He saw the scars that littered Daryl’s back from years of childhood abuse. “I.. I didn’t know he was..” Merle began to say. “Yeah, ya did.” Daryl said, trying hastily to cover up his back with his backpack. “He did the same to you. That’s why ya left first.” Daryl muttered. “I can’t go with you, I.. damn near killed that Chinese kid.” Merle said. “He’s Korean.” Daryl stated. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter man I just can’t go with ya. “I might be the one walking away, but yer the one who’s leavin.’ Again.” Daryl said looking Merle in the eye.

Daryl took your hand in his. “We’re goin’ home.”


Hi guys! This will be the last part of the short series. Thank you for all the feedback! Please comment and let me know if you’d like more stories like this. xoxo


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@deeindarkwonderland @rainbow-unicorn-pony @anythingandeverything12

i walked with you once upon a dream (Chapter One)

olicity || ao3 || mature || angst || 1704 || more fics

summary: Connected since their respective births, Oliver and Felicity were soulmates. What started off as a person that they dreamed of at night, a person they had never before met, turned into the greatest thing they could have imagined. (summary written by @daniellepanabakery)
chapter word count: 970
chapters: 1/?
a/n: i’m so excited to present y’all with the first chapter…. seriously, lemme know what you think. I’m so curious to know! Also thank you again @yellowflicker09011996


[prologue]

It started when she was five. Felicity fell asleep one night and dreamed of a boy. He was older than her, but not by too much. The dream was a little fuzzy. She could see his shape and some details in his face. When she tried to reach for him he seemed to move further away. Even at such a young age it frustrated her.

She dreamed of him often. As time went on it seemed easier to reach him. She could get closer and see more details. He was blonde and had squishy cheeks. Felicity was so determined to see him completely. To meet him and say something to him. She thought it would only get easier, but her progress took a turn. Her movement seemed to slow, to drag on.

She realized that he wasn’t doing anything to try to reach her. If he wasn’t working just as hard to come to her then they weren’t going to make any progress at all. The thought made sense to her, anyway.

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