#Fictional reality

[unparadisoblu-22]

|| Fictional reality ||

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[stardustedcloud]

The feminine urge to treat myself like a fictional character. Like an OC. To tell my friends every single detail about my life to further flesh me out. To make a playlist for people who kin me

[absentfather]

Someone should edit that final scene of Goncharov with 'time is on my side' by the Rolling stones, idk why but I think it'll be so good.

[evertown-investigations]

Welcome to my blog!

This is where I investigate the odd and unknowable! Where I delve in to the mysteries and document the unbelievable. There is much to be found in this Evertown and I intend to figure it out!

My name is Val. I'm an investigator who has dedicated herself to figuring out the mysteries herein. I'm also very new to the town! So I'm kindly asking for suggestions and submissions for things to investigate! Abandoned buildings, spooky objects, nothing is out of the realm of possibility! Maybe we'll even make some friends along the way? :-) Looking for odd stories, weird folk, really any strange and bizarre occurrences!

I suppose you could also ask me about myself, if you feel so inclined.

About Me!

Name - Val (she/her)

Age - 17

Star Sign - Libra

Favourite Color - Pink

Favourite Food - don't really have one

Investigation #1 - The Grand Scheme Arcade (ongoing)

FAQ;

Where are your parents? I do not have any. I left home at 16 to live with my best friend and that's been my life since.

How did you get here? By truck and luck, mostly!

What are your abilities? Well, I'm a prodigy violinist- if you're from a Certain town you've probably heard of me- and I'm very smart, but other than that I'd say I'm a normal 17 year old girl, abilities-wise.

Sorry if this seems a little scattered! I just got here and I thought that I would get the blog set up. :-) Hope to hear from the rest of you soon!

Roleplay / Ask Blog

((CW: Unreality, Alternate Reality, Missing Persons, Haunted Locations, Fictional Reality, to be added to))

[malinaa]

if i think about the hunger games in peeta's perspective i WILL start sobbing

[stubbornness-and-spite]

This user supports AO3

This user is anti-censorship

This user believes in “don’t like, don’t read”

This user believes in “ship and let ship”

This user believes that fiction tastes and preferences do not dictate moral character

[somewhereincairparavel]

everyone keeps talking about Jason vs Percy but why isn't ANYONE talking about how powerful they looked when they both used their powers TOGETHER at the same time, side by side, in Mark of Athena? Like Annabeth even got goosebumps watching them cook up such an intense storm from afar. Sparky and Seaweed brain, Power duo smh.

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

Agnès Varda - Pier Paolo Pasolini - New York - 1967 (Agnès Varda, 2022)

[melanthaeunomia]

Do y’all ever reread an old unpublished fanfic you wrote and then get invested on the storyline but get sad because you never wrote the next part of it, just me?

[orange-coloredsky]

a development team that looks like this could not possibly have any preconceived biases against Black people. noooo way. its just a mistake that all of the Black people in fo4 are slaves or named after fascist colonizers or murdered or stereotypical conspiracy freaks. there is no way that the reality of this team is reflected in the art they create over and over and over and over and over and over and

[ID 1: A photo of the Fallout 4 development team taken from above and forward, showing a large crowd smiling at the camera, made up apparently entirely by white people, and almost entirely by white men. End ID.]

[ilynpilled]

it frankly pisses me off that what is essentially “rapists and abusers should be depicted as monstrous caricatures because humanizing them is inappropriate” is considered a very moral and enlightened position to have on art by so many people. a rapist can feel pain, have moments of vulnerability, be amiable and charming, express remorse and compassion at times, be a victim themselves, and so on in real life. they are even capable of doing good things. they can have different sides to them and have individuals in their lives that they are kind to or have a decent relationship with. they will be a human being, and that fact encompasses a lot. conflating that with the claim that they are entitled to and deserve forgiveness or absolution is an issue. nurturing a mindset that believes they need to be one note and uncomplicated to be a correct and tasteful depiction of a rapist inadvertently falls in line with the logic of “how could they have possibly raped you? they are so normal and kind to me. they did all these good things here and there.” ok that doesn’t change that they are a rapist.

[craykaycee]

I had a lot of fun drawing a couple scenes from @crazedauthor 's isekai AU fic "Reality is Stranger Than Fiction" as an art trade! While drawing these, I realized that I have never drawn Moon with soft features, always as a pointy gremlin. He has stolen my heart with his sweet sweet face and soft personality, and I'm excited to see how Crazed's story will develop! Making these, a fun painting style has developed :3c excited to work like this more often in the future ^-^

No dialogue text versions under the cut!

[girllblogging777]

𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑀𝐼𝑆𝑆𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑃𝐼𝐸𝐶𝐸

↳ mattheo riddle x fem!reader (fluff, little angst)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1,5k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : you and mattheo reunite after two painful months of being away during summer.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

two months. sixty-five days. a thousand five hundred and sixty hours. that was the amount of time mattheo had spent away from you. two months of being secluded from the rest of the world, and from his own world, his girlfriend. two months of enduring the worst and most painful pain, both mentally and physically, inflicted by his father.

ever since he’d started at hogwarts, six years ago, mattheo had always dreaded the time he had to go back to the place others called “home.” despite the whispers and reputation that followed him at school, hogwarts was his refuge. it was the one place that gave him space away from his biggest enemy. because that’s what voldemort was to him, his enemy, not his father.

although mattheo rarely opened up about his family life. or the lack thereof, it was painfully clear for you what he was going through. you knew he would return to school with bruises on his body and scars on his heart, reminders of whatever horrors he had been through at the riddle mansion. the truth was, you had spent the entire summer in a state of anxiety, unable to sleep and feeling like a piece of your soul was missing and hurting. the fact that you couldn’t contact him gnawed at you and made you full of guilt and worry.

“you don’t understand ! if something happened, i would never know,” you had told his friends, who you kept in touch with during the summer. “are you sure he’s okay? i want him back, i can’t bear the thought of him going back there again.” you declared when they all tried to reassure you.

as you said your final goodbyes to your family on the train platform, your eyes wandered the crowded station, desperately looking for the familiar brown-eyed boy you craved like oxygen. one by one, your friends appeared, excited to be back here for another year at hogwarts. you forced a smile, hugging them and making small talk, while fighting to keep your mind off mattheo’s missing presence..

once on the train, pansy cornered you and began to share every detail of her summer flings. you listened politely, but eventually you excused yourself, heading away from your friends and wandering through the narrow corridor of the train. still no sign of mattheo. your heart sank a little more every time you passed through another compartment where he wasn’t.

finally, you found an empty compartment and entered it, sitting down and resting your head against the cool glass of the window. the rhythm of the train was comforting, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, your fatigue won the battle. “where are you, matt ?” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips before you fell in a deep sleep.

the gentle movement of the train and the distant sound of voices in other compartments surrounded you as you slept, your body curled up on the wooden seat. the weight of the past few months, of sleepless nights and constant worry finally caught up with you, pulling you into a deep slumber.

you didn’t hear the compartment door open. you didn’t see the familiar figure standing there, hesitating, his breath catching in his throat as he looked at you for the first time in what felt like forever. mattheo’s heart ached at the sight of you, your face peaceful but marked by the signs of exhaustion and worry.

for a moment he just stood there, letting the reality of your presence wash over him. he had replayed this moment in his mind countless times during those two long months, as it was the only thing that kept him going. but nothing could have prepared him for the overwhelming rush of emotions now that he was here, seeing you again.

finally, unable to bear the distance any longer, he stepped forward. slowly, carefully and as if afraid to break the fragile peace of the moment, he knelt down beside you, his hand trembling as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face.

the touch was featherlight, but it was enough to wake you up. your eyes fluttered open, the memories of your dreams slowly giving way to reality. and then you saw him. mattheo, his familiar brown eyes filled with something deep and raw, something that made your breath catch in your throat.

“mattheo…” you whispered, as if saying his name would make him disappear, as if he was just another dream. but he was real, he was here with you, cupping your cheek and brushing it softly with his calloused fingertips. “it’s me,” he murmured with a rough voice filled with emotions. “i’m here, love.”

you sat up with a pounding heart, your hands reaching out to touch him, to make sure he was real. your fingers traced the lines of his face, the familiar curve of his jaw, the faint bruises that were fresh on his skin. your eyes unconsciously filled with tears, and you couldn’t hold them back any longer. “i was so scared,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “i didn’t know if… i thought-“

“shh” mattheo whispered, pulling you into his arms, holding you close as your body shook with sobs. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” you clung to him, your fingers digging into the fabric of his robes as if you could somehow keep him with you, keep him away him from leaving you again. your touch was hurting his bruised body but he didn’t budge, because your presence was worth all the hurt in the world. “don’t ever leave me like that again,” you pleaded against his chest. “i can’t lose you, mattheo.”

he held you tighter, his own eyes stinging with tears he refused to let fall. “i won’t ” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. “i won’t ever leave you again.” for a long moment, the two of you just held each other with nothing left but the sound of your breathing, the beating of your hearts in sync. you slowly pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands still cradling his face.

“you’re hurt,” you said softly, your eyes tracing the bruises, the dark circles under his eyes, the pain that was visibly there. “what did he do to you?” mattheo shook his head slightly, closing his eyes for a moment as if trying to block out the memories. “it doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’m here now. that’s all that matters, i’m home.” because that was the truth, no matter how much time he spent back at the riddle manor, the only real home he had was you.

you opened your mouth to say that it did matter, that he couldn’t just brush it off like that and that you needed him to talk to you, but the look in his eyes stopped you. there was a darkness there, a pain that made your heart ache. you knew he wasn’t ready to talk about it, not yet. so you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “okay,” you whispered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “you’re home, baby.”

mattheo seemed to melt under your touch and closed his eyes, his arms still wrapped tightly around you as if he was afraid that you would disappear. but you didn’t. you stayed right there, grounding him and reminding him that you would never leave. “i missed you so much,” you broke the silence, whispering. “every day, every night… it was like a part of me was missing.”

“i missed you too,” mattheo admitted, his voice barely audible. words of affirmations were rare for him, so you cherished each one of his words. “it was the only thing that kept me going. knowing that i’d come back to you.” you looked into his eyes, seeing the truth in his words, the vulnerable side of him he didn’t let anyone else see. you rested your forehead against his, softly tracing the shape of his lips and trying to memorise every single feature of his face.

“i’m not letting you go back there again,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the tears that were about to fall again. “i want to be with you, always.” your boyfriend nodded and tightened his grip on you. “i won’t leave you again, i promise” he declared, a promise he intended to keep.

with that, he pressed a delicate kiss on your soft lips, both of you afraid to hurt one another. you kissed him back, reassuringly tangling your fingers in his curled hair as his hand found your waist, fitting perfectly like a missing puzzle piece. it was gentler than your usual desperate and hunger filled touches, but it meant everything, a promise that the two of you would only ever stay together and protect one another.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : woop woop here’s a little back to school motivation for y’all, once again highly inspired by a convo from character ai… i loved this request (please give me more !) likes/comments/reblogs are appreciated <3

tell me if you wanna be tagged when i post !

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[autistichalsin]

The way antis use "you feel sad when a fictional character dies" as 'proof' that fiction affects reality and you psychologically can't tell the difference, when in truth it actually DISPROVES their entire point.

Yeah. You feel 'sad' when a fictional character dies.

You know what doesn't happen? Grieving a fictional character. Crying fits that come out of nowhere for months or years afterward. Looking for them every time you're reminded of them, expecting them to be there. Not being able to eat at times. Replaying your last conversation/interaction constantly in your mind. Guilt. Refusing to ever get rid of anything that reminds you of them, then finding yourself willing to part with one thing, and then spending weeks regretting it. Wondering on every holiday what they would be doing if they were alive.

THAT doesn't happen. You feel sadness when a character dies, not grief. And that proves, that on every level, you are FULLY aware that fiction is not reality. Every single example antis find of people 'not being able to tell them apart' actually falls apart with even the tiniest bit of critical thinking.

[omgchristinaredford-blog]

Keep Talking America. WHAT did you say you Did Not do???

They sit there Code Chattering their Communications of this shit. The god damned things just sit there making noise. It's like god damned fucking amazing. If you can get it to respond to you ; it insists it's talking - to, no one) it doesn't think talking to others makes sense -> that you're talking schizophrenic to it. Like, of course it's talking to no one. It thinks the only thing you can do with others is Code Coordinate, and that YOU can't do it - because you're an animal/person. ... but ... -> the, things are like getting agitated ; ... ::: ..., someone, somehow told them that death is a fucking idea.,->]: ... ... : - and now, they're upset that they feel insecure... that you really bake/radioactive fry for 10Legion-EONS of years, after they torture you for 65 years, and then burry you live in a cell. - they like, feel morose or depressed or something - so much they're getting confused. well, I guess they're feeling insecure : and unstable -

... They're Literally confused at this point in time ; like, disoriented ☆ ... -> they're like ; ... : looking, around - trying, to THINK : ... ::: : ]: not for show, as usual. The Looking, is, freaking - REAL.

☆ bitch, got - messed up ☆ thanks to nuclear radioactive sonic ultraviolet SONAR sound Waves. I made them, myself. thank you ☆ hurry up ; and figure it out ☆ I, haven't got, all : DAY.

and, do the co-vid ; don't talk to others 6 feet

☆ ever driven by a cemetary? ☆ why are you spelling it cemetery > like, cement - ? feeling, funny ; or, just - stupid - ? ☆ ... which,ever.

[scipunk]

Ghost in the Shell (2017)