#priddy good

[somethingaboutmint]

Once i finish starfield and find what i can turn into a comic bit its over for bethesda

[newsom]

Regained access to my photoshop account today and was quickly reminded of the time I crucified one direction

[thornswoggled]

going back to s1 on crunchyroll to check something and im wondering what kind of ova we might get between now and s3 👁👁

[frabt]

I'm learning how to crochet. admire my stitches

[obey-moi]

I wanna imagine that the cards are a real thing in-universe. Like, the brothers, royals, Solomon and Thirteen all get put into a trading card game just because they’re all very popular individuals with their own fanbases Everyone’s card art is a little different from their actuall looks bc the actual people aren’t involved in the art production, so everone gets washboard abs and clear skin. It’d also be considered defamation of any of them are portrayed with a single blemish lol.

Of course Asmo collects ONLY his own cards and MC’s cards, even if some of them look off. “This one’s hair is too brunette but I love the SHINE they put in my lipgloss!” Or something silly like that. They go into a photo album binder where he gets other pieces of fanart.

Leviathan collects SO many card and knows the rules and decimates everyone at the games, but he absolutely refuses to collect his own cards. “Can you imagine if I played my own card as if I were actually cool? Like I had those powers, or l-looked as dashing a-as they portray me?? None of my cards would actually be good?? I’m JuSt An OtAkU??” Never plays the holographics of MC. Those get framed but never displayed. (MC finds them and they do the same to him since they both avoid their own cards. In fact they do a daily dropoff where if there’s an envelope under their door they can usually expect it to be the others’ cards.) He’s also a master of making different decks, like he has a deck for every sin, every person, etc. The Royals+Angels deck and the Envy deck are his favourite ones.

Mammon thrives on the Devildom TCG market. Rare cards go for a ton of Grimm! And also you wanna know why he keeps trying to sell pics of Lucifer, right? He knows one of the official card artists. “This was the outfit this card was based on, yeah? Here’s the followup of him rolling his sleeves and loosening his tie! And I bet you’re gonna love THIS one! Nobody can ever seem to get his angry smile just right until they see it in person, but this picture comes pretty close. Doesn’t it give you shivers? I can start at 1500 grimm. Also, could you tell whoever is making THESE cards to stop whitewashing the GREAT Mammon? Plzkthx :)”

Satan’s not much for card games unless a friend challenges him to a different, more classic game, like rummy or liar. But he does keep the trading cards he likes the most. Art is art, what can he say? They’re also perfect bookmarks. His fave is probably one of MC that captures them perfectly in his vision.

Lucifer thinks the whole TCG is just silly and doesn’t really participate in any of it........... But Priddy Boy’s gotta be ✨Perfect In Everything✨. The man has canonically been stated to be good a video games for the simple need to be good at everything, you think he wouldn’t study strategy and play like it’s chess or smth? That and in his Dad Wallet where he keeps pictures of his brothers (and MC), he keeps his favourite cards of them behind each respectful photo.

Beel doesn’t really collect or know how to play, but Beel has autographed many a card after fangol games, so he can at least understand it’s a collectible item. He tried learning from Leviathan how to play this one time, and it made sense to him for the most part. Card has Life Points, Attack Points, and Special Skills. Beat up opponents' cards and win. Not too different from most other card games. But there are complicated rules to it that he forgets or mixes up. He’d much rather use the cards like dolls and make them “talk” to each other.

Belphie also doesn’t play or collect, but he does enjoy getting his hands on the holographic cards. One day Levi was sent to look for Belphie to tell him it was dinner time. He found the youngest in the attic cutting up the cards into shapes and gluing them back-to-back, hanging them up like a mobile. Levi fainted backward down the stairs and refused to look at Belphie for two months straight.

Solomon really likes these cards! Like Satan he uses them as bookmarks, but specific Sin Colours and People get paired with certain books. Green Satan cards are used on cursed tomes or books about curses, blue Satan cards are used in art history books. Pink Asmo cards are left in Seduction Spell books, while yellow Asmo cards are for books about venoms from creatures. Etc. Makes categorization much easier!

Barbatos doesn’t collect, but he does know how to play. He referees for the Young Lord sometimes whenever Diavolo gets a chance to have fun.

Y’all know ya homeboy DIAVOLO is one of the biggest collectors! He and Levi are both DAUNTING on the “battlefield”, though Dia doesn’t take things so seriously like Levi does sometimes. He’s even commissioned actual paintings of himself and everyone so that those portraits can be made into cards. They’re the rarest ones, there only being one of each person out in the world. As much as Dia would have loved to keep those cards, he likes to watch the chaos of others scrambling desperately try to obtain an Ultra Rare Royal Painted Holographic. Besides, he still has the original paintings! (Also he likes to collect the DevilWendy’s kids meal toy versions of those “cards”, which are actually those plastic “gold” plated cards inside of “”””pokéballs””””. Adorable!)

Some Thirteen cards have special abilities based on real traps of hers. Some of Thirteen’s traps are based on some of the cards. She likes to tape some cards up like stickers to some of said traps as decorations. Or as part of the trap. She once tried to entice Solomon with a card, but Levi fell for it instead and nearly got impaled in a tiger trap she called “Super Duper Rare Double Dare #106”.

Mephistopheles says he doesn’t care about such childish playthings. But once the Diavolo released those Ultra Rare Royal Painted Holographic, and ‘Phisto got highest bidder on the Diavolo card, SUDDENLY he’s become Maximillion Pegasus and his signature deck is the Diavolo deck.

Luke isn’t really one to play, but he does like the art of some of them! He’ll put some in a scrapbook! It’s also another bookmark technique, where certain people’s cards get bookmarked on their favourite recipes. He got the idea from Solomon’s method of bookmarking.

Simeon also doesn’t play but mainly collects. Got a little hooked on it before Raphael moved in and the room was being used for Levi’s spare collection stuff. He was even given many of the Common ones for free (what Simeon did with common cards, Levi didn’t nearly care as much, and trusted him more with cards than he could trust Belphie with holo’s...). He’s collected all the Seven Lords themed ones. It’s a nice, low-key hobby, like stamp collecting. He donates the ones he doesn’t need to MC or Levi.

Raphael neither plays, collects, or knows anything about them really. But he does still have an annoying familiarity with them, thanks to Michael wanting him to buy several packs, nay, BOXES of packs. Michael needs to be the number one Lucifer Card collector. Bro misses his bro... ;(

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Meghans deep shame of being lower class by u/EleFacCafele

Meghan’s deep shame of being lower class One of Meghan’s issues that is rarely discussed is her deep shame of being born in a lower class and her desperate attempt to erase any record of her being of a lower class. Her father, Thomas was a financially successful working-class man but he remained all his life a glorified blue collar. Dorito was socially underclass, with her lack of education, lack of work ethic, absence of any moral value, income generation by criminal activities (drug dealings, scams, using sex to get men, etc) and parasitic way of life by using and then discarding people.When the financially stable Thomas put Meghan in an good middle-class Catholic school, Meghan became of the social differences between her, daughter of a single blue collar and the middle-class, normal family girls. She attached herself to Ninaki Priddy, very middle-class. She felt deeply ashamed of the low social status of her parents and family and, to compensate, she became obsessed to become a Queen, a Princess, someone really at the top of the social hierarchy. All her obsession with Diana is the desire to become an upper class, billionaire, aristocratic princes because she was deeply ashamed of her very low status at birth.Having learned from her mother all the ways of the underclass (don’t give milk for free), she decided to apply her methods of acquiring status and wealth by any means (legit or not), while in parallel erasing her lower class status and inventing an upper-middle class upbringing. Getting a degree was the first step. Erasing her biracial origin and pretending she was a highly cultured Caucasian on CVs came next. Then the Tig blog where she made believe she was a high maintenance, upper middle-class actress with sophisticated luxury tastes. As some actress do, she allegedly used high end prostitution to survive (yachting, Soho house hostess, etc.) while hunting for a rich man. Started to behave as a mean Diva, ruthless, demanding, impossible to satisfy person, as that was her was vision about rich powerful people. She covered all with her curated image of a refined higher-class woman, chasing well-off men (Trevor, Cory then Hapless) in her desperate drive to climb socially and erase her past and background. She then discarded everyone who was of no use, or had stories about her past.When she finally arrived, marrying a blood prince from the most prestigious Royal Family, she desperately tried to hid her low-class mixed race background and shady past. She manipulated her father to stop giving her away, uninvited her entire family (bar her underclass mama to play the Rcard) at the wedding, invited famous people she never knew personally. etc. Later she enlisted her husband and others in "slaying dragons", aka erasing all information that does not fit the image she wants to project aka of an upper class woman (Duchess) with impeccable past, doing philanthropy and being successful financially and socially.Then she run away, as she could not adapt to the World she wanted so desperately to belong. The façade started to crumble, real upper class people saw her imposture, and the Royal Family gave her the boot when her malignant Diva behaviours became unbearable. Her descent from royalty into the world of wannabe celebrity was really fast, just of few years.Her entire pathologically narcissistic behaviour originates from the deep shame of being a lower-class mixed-race woman. Just an explanation, not an excuse. post link: https://ift.tt/hH29ayv author: EleFacCafele submitted: December 26, 2023 at 10:07AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

[twinvictim]

On a whim rewatched Holes. Priddy good

[meghantheduchyofpitstains]

If you never read this article on the Daily Mail, it is a must read.

Meghan’s childhood best friend Ninaki - she dumped Markle as a friend - gives some insights on Meghan completely changing when she finally got acting work on Suits.

I think this article helps to understand just how desperately Meghan wanted to be famous, not a good actress - but famous. When she got a taste of fame how her delusions and fantasies started taking over in her life.

[tsarisfanfiction]

#4 (Sing A Song of Seven)

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: Gen Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort Characters: Michael Yew, Baird McNeilly (OC), Lee Fletcher, Ceri Priddy (OC) A series of Cabin Seven oneshots.  This time: A burnt leg. This idea would not leave me alone today, so have some more Michael content, and also some of my Apollo cabin OCs finally make an appearance! This is set significantly pre-canon - Michael is ten, Lee is eleven. Warning for a burn description, and shout out to my sister for providing the Gaelic! Reminder that there’s now a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! <<#3

“I’ve got him,” Michael heard, the voice familiar through the darkness.  “Go give Ceri a heads’ up, and see if you can find Lee, too.”

Muffled words, further away from him and too hard to make out, replied.  Michael frowned, trying to peel his eyes open – why the fuck where they closed?  What the fuck was happening?  He’d been on the climbing wall.  That wasn’t black.  The lava made sure of it.

Arms slid underneath him and then he was floating and oh no they fucking weren’t.  Suddenly no longer glued shut, his eyes snapped open as he squirmed.

“Put me the fuck down!” he demanded, not even looking at the fucker that had picked him up as he writhed, pushing to get away.

His leg moved and he screamed.

“Hey, hey!” the fucker – Michael recognised that accent but his leg hurt and he couldn’t think – protested.  “Relax, Michael.  You’ll hurt yourself more if you keep moving.”  The arms holding him tightened, pinning him against a much larger body.  He tried to wriggle his torso free without moving his leg, which fucking burned, but everything went white and he screamed again.

“Naw, I’ve got this,” he heard the older demigod say as the white faded away.  “Don’t crowd him, guys.  Shoo, shoo.”

Michael cracked an eye open and glowered up at the other son of Apollo.  “Put.  Me.  Down,” he growled, tilting his head back to glare past the demigod’s long dark ginger hair where it spilled over his shoulder and at his half-brother directly.

Fucking half-siblings.  He’d run away from the fucking things; there weren’t supposed to be more where he ended up!

Even if these ones didn’t treat him like shit.

Baird shook his head.  He was one of the oldest of Michael’s newly-discovered half-siblings, seventeen and broad-shouldered, as well as a fucking good archer – Michael had spent a lot of the time at the range with him, learning about shit like technique.

He was also proudly Scottish, with a soft accent that was distinctly not-American but also not how Michael had thought Scots sounded – not that he’d asked Baird about that.  He wasn’t that interested.

He had, however, told him that he had better be wearing fucking boxers under the kilt he frequently wore.  Several times.  Baird just grinned at him and told him not to look every time, which wasn’t a fucking answer.

“No can do, a ghille,” his half-brother told him, a small smile on his face.  Michael had been promised it was a term of endearment and not an insult.  He didn’t know if he believed it, but he wasn’t the only one Baird called that, so he let it slide.  “That lava chewed your leg up pretty good.  You’re not going to be walking on that.”

The fucking lava had what.

Michael twisted, putting his escape attempt on hold for the moment in favour of trying to see his leg.  Now he was aware of it, the pain was impossible to ignore, and Michael had a horrible feeling it was making him cry.  His eyes were itching.

Baird held still as he moved, although his grip was tight enough that Michael couldn’t really move much.  Still, he managed to tilt his head enough to catch sight of pale, waxy skin blotched with red and pink and looking entirely too wrong, never mind the fact his pants had singed away to the knee.

“Fuck.”  The word came out like a sob.  His eyes prickled more and his cheeks stung.  Baird seemed to take that as a cue to start walking and Michael glared at him.  “Put me down.”

“You need the infirmary, Michael,” Baird told him, raising one shoulder in half a shrug.  “I can call for a stretcher instead if you really want, but this is faster.”

Michael was no more impressed with the idea of a fucking stretcher than he was about being carried.  “I heal fast,” he protested, scowling as salty water trickled into the corner of his mouth and rubbing at his eyes furiously.  Why the fuck was he crying?  It was only a bit of fucking pain.

“And you’ll heal even faster when Ceri gets a look at that leg of yours,” his half-brother countered immediately.  “So is this okay, or do I need to get someone to bring a stretcher instead?”

Neither option was fucking okay, but Michael shoved his face into Baird’s chest, using the bright orange t-shirt to soak up the fucking tears.  Being carried like a kid was fucking embarrassing but a stretcher would be even worse.  “Hurry the fuck up,” he mumbled.

“Okay, okay.  Hurrying up.”  True to his word, Michael felt Baird speed up, taking bigger steps and holding him a little tighter.  If anyone was looking – they had better not be, Michael would shoot anyone that ever fucking mentioned it – no-one said anything and Baird didn’t acknowledge anyone, either.  Michael kept his face pressed against his half-brother’s t-shirt until the noise of Baird’s steps changed.

“Michael!”  Lee’s voice had him raising his head.  His blond half-brother was looking at him with wide eyes from inside the infirmary.  Next to him, long red hair shoved back in a messy bun, Ceri was pulling on gloves, barely looking at them.

Lee’s presence made Michael feel a little better, not that he’d ever admit it.  Baird wasn’t terrible – his archery coaching did put him in Michael’s okay books despite his refusal to admit if he wore boxers under the kilt or not – but Lee was Lee.

Michael would never fucking admit it, but Lee felt a lot like how he thought safety should.

Baird sat him down on one of the beds, and Michael couldn’t stop the whine of pain as his burnt leg straightened.  Immediately, Lee and Ceri were there, shooing Baird out of the way and taking his place.

A moment later, the bed behind him dipped, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Baird smiling at him reassuringly.  Michael hadn’t expected him to stay.

“Here, drink this.”  Lee caught his attention again, dragging it away from Baird and focusing it on the cup of golden liquid Michael knew was nectar.  It tasted good, like cherry candies, but best of all it stopped his leg from hurting.

Ceri knelt on the floor in front of his leg and gently dabbed at it with water while Lee grabbed his attention and started asking exactly what had happened, as though he thought Michael could fucking remember.  All he remembered was climbing the fucking lava wall, then Baird’s voice as his half-brother fucking picked him up without even fucking asking.

“Michael missed a foot-hold,” Baird filled in after Michael replied to Lee’s worried questions with a non-answering shrug.  “He got caught by the lava when he fell.  Fainted for about half a minute, Ceri.”

“Noted,” Michael’s older half-sister said, setting the cloth aside and softly laying her palm over where the burn was the worst.  Like Baird, her accent was decidedly non-American.  Michael hadn’t asked where she was from but she and Baird both liked to mock Geoff from cabin eleven for being English.  All three of them were about the same age, although he was pretty sure Ceri was at least younger than Baird.

It wasn’t like he actually cared about that shit, though.

“Hold still, Michael,” Ceri told him.  “Lee-”

“I’ve got him,” Lee interrupted, a bright smile crossing his worried face.  He sat on the bed next to Michael, completely ignoring Baird behind them.  “Ceri’s going to fix you up, okay?” he said.  “It’ll feel weird, but a good-weird.”

Before Michael could ask what the fuck that meant, she started to chant softly.  The words weren’t in English, but Michael understood them perfectly in the strange mindfuck way that Ancient Greek had.

He’d seen Ceri and Lee both healing others over the summer, as well as some of the other half-siblings whose names he didn’t remember because they’d fucked off at the end of August and there were too fucking many of them to remember, anyway.  He knew they sang to Apollo, to the guy that used to pop into his dreams almost every night and now only showed once a week, and that that was somehow enough to heal injuries.  Sometimes it was even faster than Michael’s natural regeneration.

This was the first time he’d been hurt badly enough that the cherry-candy flavoured nectar and his own fast healing couldn’t heal him since arriving at camp.

It tickled.

Michael squirmed at the golden light brushing over his leg, then glared at Lee when he put his hand on his upper leg to hold him still.

“Stay still,” his brother told him firmly.  Baird pressed a hand against his back.

“You’re doing good, a ghille,” he said.  “The less you squirm, the more healing Ceri can do.”

Michael sent him a dark look but tried to stop moving.  It fucking tickled, though.  Lee’s hand on his leg helped keep it still, but did nothing for the tickling as Ceri’s healing chant continued, a faint golden glow around her hand and his leg.

After an eternity of what felt like fucking tickle-torture, Ceri stopped chanting and pulled her hand back.

“Third degree,” she rasped, voice hoarse.  Baird leaned past Michael to give her a bottle of water, which she threw back without hesitating.  “But it’ll be fine.  Your healing is something else, Michael.  I don’t think it’ll even scar once it’s done.”  She waved a hand loosely at Lee, who slipped off of the bed to kneel in front of him, next to Ceri.  Michael leaned forwards, surprised to see his leg had already lost the weird pale look and was a shiny pink.  It disappeared under the bandages Lee started to wind around his leg.  “Take it easy; stay in here until dinner time.”

Michael frowned.  “You just said it was gonna be fucking fine.”

Ceri sighed.  “You still have to give it time to heal, Michael.  Baird, go grab him some fresh trousers from the store.  I’ll see if Marian can salvage these, or the harpies if she can’t.”

“Sure.”  The bed shifted as Baird stood up, and Michael glanced back at him.  The Scot grinned at him.  “Listen to Ceri, a ghille.  She knows what she’s talking about.”  A large hand rested on his shoulder and he twisted around to glare properly at him.  “And be a bit more careful on that wall in future, yeah?  I’m not a fan of charbroiled kid brothers.”

Michael’s stomach did a little twist, the same way the fucking thing did when his half-siblings – these half-siblings, the ones that shared his dad – called him their brother, like it was natural and he was one of them.

“Whatever,” he muttered.  Baird squeezed his shoulder slightly and grinned at him.

“Back in a bit,” he promised as he walked away, “with trousers.”  He paused in the doorway and a smirk spread across his face.  “Unless you’d rather a kilt?”

Lee laughed and Ceri sighed as Michael swore viciously at the now-empty doorway.

#5>>

[my-chaos-radio]

Release: September 22, 2020

Lyrics:

Had a great seven year, white knuckle ride

Killing time, flying high

As I held on tight to you, to you

Did I blow my mind on the wild side?

Singing, "Hallelujah" to 'em every night

With you, with you

And I'm not gonna lie

Say I've been alright

'Cause it feels like I've been living upside down

What can I say? I'm survivin'

Crawling out these sheets to see another day

What can I say? I'm survivin'

And I'm gonna be fine

I'm gonna be fine

I think I'll be fine

Ooh, yeah

Ba, da, da, da, da, da

Ba, da, da, da, da, da, na, na

Ooh, yeah

Ba, da, da, da, da, da

Ba, da, da, da, da, da

Like a thunder cloud in November rain

Is the black dog out running wild again

For you, for you?

Tryna stream my way to a better life

But I daydream crash like Vanilla Sky, do you?

Do you?

'Cause I'm not gonna lie

And say I've been alright

'Cause it feels like I've been living upside down

What can I say? I'm survivin'

Crawling out these sheets to see another day

What can I say? I'm survivin'

And I'm gonna be fine

I'm gonna be fine

I think I'll be fine

Ooh, yeah

Ba, da, da, da, da, da

Ba, da, da, da, da, da

Ooh, yeah

Ba, da, da, da, da, da

Ba, da, da, da, da, da

Songwriter:

So what can I say? I'm survivin'

Just crawling out these sheets to see another day

Oh what can I say? I'm survivin'

And I'm gonna be fine

I'm gonna be fine

I think I'll be fine

Daniel Campbell Smith / Daniel Robin Priddy / Mark Blair Crew / Philip John Plested

SongFacts:

"Survivin'" is a song by English indie pop band Bastille. It was released on September 22, 2020 as the second single from their EP Goosebumps. The song was written by Dan Priddy, Dan Smith, Mark Crew and Phil Plested.

Of the song, Smith said: "There were times when I felt like I was in a washing machine and on an assembly line at the same time, but when people asked me how I was doing the answer was always: the British cliché: " Yeah, all good, good." At the start of lockdown I was very unsure about having written a song that felt relevant even though it wasn't supposed to be, but I also think 2020 is the year we all have it stopped pretending everything was fine.

A music video for the song was released on October 6, 2020 with a total length of three minutes and two seconds. The video was directed by Reza Dolatabadi. Talking about the video, Dolatabadi said, "Overall, I wanted to give the video a grand feel, almost like it belonged on the big screen, and for that we had to build a city in 3D, fix all the camera angles and movements, and then animate it." our characters via the 3D layouts. Animation is a team effort. I have to say I was very lucky to get to work on this project with an incredible team of artists from all over the world. Without their commitment and attention to detail I would not have been able to complete this ambitious piece.

[literaticat]

what makes a great board book?

From whose perspective? Like, what makes a great book for the intended audience, aka, babies? Probably "edibility", "texture", "mouthfeel" would be up there. For the parents who have to read them? I guess "re-readability", "non-UGH-ness" and "makes babies pass out" would all be high on the list. :-)

From MY perspective, a great board book is cute, feels good in my hands, it's fun to read aloud, it's not too wordy, and babies WANT to hear it over and over.

The question you DIDN'T ask (but now everyone is thinking) -- why aren't agents looking for original board books?

Welp, it's not easy to sell original board books and here's why. They are quite expensive to publish! (even more so now that there are paper shortages, etc). And they have a low price point. (Parents simply will NOT pay more than x-amount for them, despite inflation and everything else).

That means they have very thin margins, royalties are generally lower than they would be for picture books, and the publisher needs to save money (or maximize profit) wherever they can, and they prefer to publish "sure things". Therefore, most board books you see in stores fall into the following buckets:

--Smallened version of already successful picture book -- In other words, it's not an original board book, it's just a reformatted picture book. ALL THE WORLD, THE HONEYBEE, EVERYWHERE BABIES, etc. These are already proven successful - and more importantly, they already own the rights to publish the book, so while the creators DO get a (low) royalty, the publisher doesn't have to pay for the book again.

--Baby version of already popular character/world-- So like, everyone loves DRAGONS LOVE TACOS -- now you can get DRAGON'S FIRST TACO. The VAMOS books are popular, now there are spinoff board books with simple English/Spanish words and phrases and little characters from those bigger books. Pete the Cat's Twinkle Twinkle Little Star - "text" already exists. You get the picture. These are already proven successful characters/worlds, have name/visual recognition for customers, and are relatively easy to create (short text, simple art, etc.) The creators do get a (low) advance and (low) royalty but it's just basically an "add on" to an already existing world.

--Simple concept books created in-house by the publisher-- Many MANY concept books you see in stores fall into this bucket -- like Priddy books, DK baby books, etc. If people already on payroll are writing the (minimal) text and designing the book, they don't have to pay creators at all. Or, maybe they write the text and then hire an illustrator on a flat fee.

This is not to say that we CAN'T sell original board books - I have sold a small handful of them over the years, and one of my colleagues reps a couple of folks who create original novelty books. (Novelty books being like board books but with "extra" -- like flaps, textures, whirly bits, etc). But they tend to be art-forward, created by an illustrator-who-also-writes, rather than a writer + illustrator pairing like many Picture Books. And again, they often have a cute novelty aspect. Like the MAIL DUCK books, which have a lift-the-flap element. (But the same $$$ problem arises with novelty for sure! Expensive to print, low price point = publishers being gun-shy.)

[1800duckhotline]

Connieeee for ask game 🥺

💯💤 ❤️

Hope ur doing well!

details about ocs meme

hey!!! im doing priddy fine today thank you... we hang on... thank u for sending the ask eheh

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

connie is like one of the few ocs i dont talk about much publicly so it's gonna be easy peasy

she has a little brother called Thomas, who's about 19 years old, she became his legal guardian when their parents divorced years before. in court connie managed to convince the judge to have both her mother and father to pay a certain fee each month to help raise her little brother right (who was about 7 at the time while she was 25 or so)

before the divorce she was studying to become an airline pilot. as you can guess she couldn't finish her studies due to that whole mishap because the trial and divorce bureaucracy costed so much money that her parents had to use the cash they were using to help pay for her tuition to cover their own asses (this is something she is sad about but ultimately she has come to terms with it)

unsurprisingly, in high school she used to play football (or rugby as i call it) and was a quarterback. she doesn't play anymore obviously but she always managed to stay in shape, also because aviation school sort of expects that kind of exercise regimen

💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits?

i imagine connie is an heavy as fuck sleeper. like, when she sleeps, she sleeps. it's hard to wake her up before her appointed time. due to her job as a taxi driver her sleeping schedule is a bit fucked up (she mostly drives around from afternoon till late at night, i might have to fact check this for accuracy lol) but she always makes sure to wake up the same time as her little brother to make sure he has breakfast and can go to school just fine, or if he needs a ride.

if she's really really tired she will take a nap in the morning to prepare herself for her shift, but connie typically does manage to get at least 6 hours of sleep each night. she doesn't snooze off that often, she actually can fight the urge to nap in spots that aren't her apartment quite well.

it's not unusual for her to be found snoozing on the couch taking up all the space on it also.

❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits?

connie is very straight-forward, she's a no-nonsense kind of gal. if she has something to say she will, and if what she has to say is mean she will try to be nice about it but she won't sugarcoat it

she's just very chill to be around and it's very hard to get on her nerves, she's seen enough shit to know when it's worth to get upset about something

despite what one might assume from her relaxed vibes and easygoing attitude, connie is a very self-disciplined person with a very good sense of organization and cleanliness. like, she schedules out every single important thing she needs to do in a day, even stuff like "take shower" and "organize closet" for her are notable and deserve to be written down. this is why she never misses meetings and is always perfectly on time, or at least she tries to be!

[stevishabitat]

I think it was my kiddo's 4th birthday that they picked 'London' as their party theme. Not easy to find decorations in the Midwest USA, but thank goodness for the internet and global shipping. Kiddo had a very early fascination/special interest in double-decker buses (thanks Roger Priddy board books) that kind of spread to all things London.

ETA : I found pics!!!

If/when you have children please let them (as soon as they're able) pick the theme of their birthday parties.

The girl who used to do my hair let her toddler pick the theme of her 3rd birthday and she chose Target. Like, the store. So everything was red and white and covered in bullseyes and I'm just so full of joy looking at the pictures on Facebook right now because it is obvious that this little girl is having the time of her life and that her parents put so much love and creativity into making the decorations and cupcakes.

Children will come up with some of the best and most fascinating ideas if you let them.

[foolsoverture]

It’s like!! I was doing so good and happy and normal on tuesday!! And then wednesday was weird because i woke up really late bc i couldnt sleep all night because i kept hearing that stupid knocking on the wall behind me like i used to hear in priddis & then i kept freaking out and having to check the corner of the room with a flashlight every few minutes and then i finally fell asleep and then when i woke up i just felt so weird and “not there” and then today i woke up and just. I felt so weird and not there as soon as i woke up its like i can feel it physically the same way i can feel the ocd compulsions physically and it sucks it sucks so much i wasted so much of today just feeling all weird and scared for reasons i dont understand like i dont understand i just want to be normal and happy with my friends i just want to be able to respond to comm clients normally i just want to be able to do things without this insane bizarre cloud of fear clouding them and irs not the normal anxiety fear its different its like that bone deep instinctual fear from priddis when id bolt up the stairs from it or when id spend all night terrified chekcing the corners of the room.

Its like all the things and people that are familiar and nice to me and that i love it suddenly feels just. Scary. And the love for them isnt gone so its not like “splitting” but its this really weird overwhelming feeling that they hate me and want me gone and it comes from no rational place and i know that but i cant make the belief go away and its not like the usual “my friends hate me” feeling its different its something that cant be reasoned with and i just have to wait it out and its so weird its like. It “feels” like hallucinating even theres no visual aspect of his. Like it “feels” like that one disorder where people see other peoples’ faces as all warped and scary and it feels like that just without the visual aspect and then its like no matter how much evidence there is to the contrary and no matter how much you know its irrational and no matter how deeply and much you want to not feel that way you cant stop “seeing” it, it doesnt stop it feels like loading a preset map into a game & having to play within that preset in the game until you close the game and change the preset.

Its like. Ill be thinking happily of some nice interaction i had with someone at yet at the same time somehow simultaneously im feeling like they hate me and not in the usual anxiety way & not in a “this nice thing actually means they hate me” way but instead in a “i cant make Any connectiom between the nice thing and feeling like they hate me like i cant connect it in a ‘reassurance so that feeling goes away’ away or even in a warped ‘this nice thing must somehow mean they hate me’ way.”

I just i dont like it i want it to stop i feel like im turning into luc like damn the fucking Insane paranoia genes from his side really went off huh

And its part of my fear with comm clients too even the nice one because then the emails get extra scary when i feel like they truly genuinely fucking hate me and see me as having wasted their time & money & that they want to see me “brought down” entirely and that i deserve for that to happen even though i dont want it to

And like its even tpwards myself its like. I’ll be doing something and then ill feel like “i must be dlimg xyz normal thing for this super fucking insane malicious irrational reason” even though i know thats not why im doing it and vene when its a totally normal positive thing.

Like its so weird and scary feeling ao “disconnected” like that. Like im so scared and suspicious and paranoid of everything including *myself*. Like its not just a brief worry of “im doing xyz for malicious resson/xyz bad thing” that can be easily dismissed its more like a sudden belief that completely takes hold like its irrefutable fact like the sky being blue or breathing air its just. Hwhdbdnndnddn

[gooeykit]

just watched junkhead, priddy good!

[cali]

i did this beginning of this year with spray cans and fingerpainting with the horrible kid paints ive had since elementary school.