#i have so much many more of these

[barnbridges]

marion facts that i need to say or i'll choke on them:

she was born marie therese meeber to single mother april meeber and given up at birth. she's spent the first 10 years of her life at an orphanage in ohio before being picked up by paul and terry barnbridge and adopted as marion lynn barnbridge. she's estrange from both her adoptive parents and their biological children, twins thelma and lucille.

she's exactly 5'2. sometimes she wears heels to attempt to be taller, but usually it's way too obvious anyway.

her original birthday is august 20th 1960, but it was shifted to match that of her adoptive mother terry as april 27th. she doesn't celebrate either.

both at the orphanage and with paul barnbridge she's learned to speak french fairly well. she self-identifies as french-american.

she was homeschooled by terry for the better part of middle school due to perceived "gaps" in her education and the need for childcare for the two younger children. she went to a girl's only highschool.

she's applied to hampden at the urge and with the financial support of her adopted uncle robert, himself an alumn with an undergrad in english. her application was an essay on the merits of close family adoption and adoption trauma.

she absolutely picked up kleptomaniac tendencies from the scarcity of childhood, and then sort of... it runs in and out of her life. she's never fully "cured" of it, in spite of trying in college. . yes she's pickpocketed francis before. it's not as much about needing things or even wanting them, it is a means of asserting control over a situation and emotionally grounding herself. yes she definitively made bunny's kleptomaniac tendencies worse and he hers lmao.

she's met bunny shoplifting at the food king and then again in shoplifters anonymous. neither of them really went after being introduced, but she's lecturing him constantly from the pamphlets.

she knits and plays the keyboard. piano is not something she really mastered in any meaningful way, but she's Passable at it and mostly enjoys listening to it.

she genuinely loves children and working with them, in spite or because of her own childhood, depending on the day. she can be perceived as harsh or disciplinarian, but rarely beyond what would be academically appropriate.

the infamous rika thalheim's been her freshman year roommate at durbinstal, and her major was dumbassery pottery. by her junior year ('82-'83) she roommated with a dina hammlinger in roxburgh.

writes exclusively using inkjoys and markers. most commonly outside the classroom, she's using purple gel pens. was an early adopter of block letters, even as a certified baby boomer, because of the educational value.

spends her weekends working overtime at the center unless busy.

acquired a rescue rabbit named caesarion with bunny himself off a farmer's market in new haven during the summer after freshman year. he's died at 9 years old and she's been a bird-mother since, specifically to parrots. her daughter enjoys rodents though.

[cloud-ya]

outcast of the village

[chloesimaginationthings]

Happy 10th anniversary to FNAF!!

[astearisms]

catalysts, protectors

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy one year anniversary to In Stars and Time!

[taimanzano]

One of one. One, alone, one.

[aur0raaura]

Yknow what- you're so right...

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[zan0tix]

Assorted homestucks number 72382683

[petricorah]

thankfully, he didn't get it [id in alt]

[infernal-lamb]

The Lamb Slaying Death Incarnate

(Part of a larger comic....but I sort of like this panel a lot on its own!)

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[densewentz]

mmm not to be a solasmancer on main but im thinking about those few days after the Cole debacle if a solavellan Inquisitor encourages him to remain a spirit. just. Solas, watching her fret so much in the aftermath, terrified that she may have taken someone's choice away, worried that she influenced what Cole wanted somehow, watching her sheer relief and unbridled joy after Cole's, free and light and brimming with happy incredulity, "but you didn’t change, didn’t make me change. Thank you". He watches her, and thinks of Mythal. Thinks of devotion, and abuse. Regret. Thinks of Cole, and spirits and Wisdom and Pride- Thinks, wistfully, achingly, "in her hands, I might have been safe".

[melioristicbeast]

So while I know Stiles canonically is probably a classic rock guy going by his shirts (although you cannot tell me the kid doesn't jam out to lady gaga's the fame monster), are you really in a fandom unless you project aspects of yourself onto characters?

Specifically an unhinged case of 'will listen to absolutely anything' taste in music - I'm the 'never pass the AUX cord' in my friend group.

The song in question (that i had on repeat enough one year that it was on my spotify wrapped) :

I just quite like the idea of Stiles zoning out to some strange beats :)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Soup solves everything.

[gunstellations]

encounter (1/?)

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