#this is the last of the cc i had in my backlog but i might make more at some point who knows

[eternityservedcold]

DOWNLOAD (sfs, no adfly)

a womb tattoo of the cambion conception and immaculate conception symbols. more than anything, this is inspired by a tattoo that i want but probably wont get. comes in love, hate, and 2 sorta-yin-yang styles

uses vectors made by cormac illustrated with permission! please dont edit, but you can ask me if you need different configurations. cc used in the image and permission proof under the cut!

horns ❤️ blindfold ❤️ blood ❤️ legs ❤️ pose ❤️ lighting

(emails redacted for privacy, link redacted because YOU should ask permission too if you want to use them!)

[aisquaredchoco]

Yay...my internet's back! Erm, actually just switched to another provider because the previous one's been refusing to repair for months..

Also, a long message coming ahead. If you're not a fan of lengthy sentiments in the form of a wall of text I'd tell you to skip this.

Well here goes one last rambling...a lot of realizations came to mind during those days of inactivity so...

I realized I've been expecting too much from this community, when in reality I have not much of a place in it. I'll wholeheartedly accept that I'm only up to this point of achievement. Less expectations, less disappointments. No more whining, hopefully.

This is not a farewell post however, but just to let you guys know that I have decided to no longer put too much effort so as not to expect anything in return, and therefore will not be doing as much cc as I have been doing before, just so I would expect less from people and to make sure that the things I'd love to have in my game are the ones being shared publicly. One reason is that I was thinking that I might be doing things in rush that their quality might also have been compromised and that some of you might have been quietly critical of it (though I accept such feedbacks you know). Another reason is that I have to learn to not expect anything after giving something as I've said above, because I admit I had an ambition of becoming a 'household name' in the simblr community and thought one way of achieving such status is that you have to give something to the community so that they recognize you as someone who adds something useful in their games. I apologize for having this way of thinking, I only realized now how greedy (for attention and fame) I became after being able to learn making cc thinking these efforts should become recognized. I know I should rid myself of that mentality and as others have pointed out in some of my 'whiny' posts I must make things I want for my game and share them out of heart not because you're only expecting good feedback from people. And that might be the reason why I suddenly felt 'tired' from creating, because I've been stressing myself out from those said above.

But I will not completely disregard the good things some of you have said to me, reassuring that my efforts don't go wasted by telling me you love what I make and put them to use in your games (though I know I'm asking for too much if I was expecting them to be shown off on your game screenshots). I want to tell you that every like, reblog, and nice remarks that you were giving are very much appreciated. You have done so so much to me, although I admit I took them for granted. Apologies as well if I seemed ungrateful with how you show support on my works.

And also, because I also handle xto3conversionsfinds, I have a looooooot of backlog to catch up on so that will take a hell lot of time queuing conversion cc posts before making time for me to sim.

So see you around folks...even though I'll be just a lurker most of the time. I hope 2024 will be a better year for me, and everyone!

[viscountessevie]

Hey friends/anons, thanks for sending in your asks and waiting patiently! I went MIA the last two nights, heading to bed early because of a job I had last night. It was fun but also hella tiring. My bestie and I had a nightcap before heading home so lowkey woke up a little off this morning - not quite hungover but yeah you know the feel. Anyways this is just an update post to say I’m answering my current ones rn! 

Gonna finish up the Kathony/S3 ones from Jett 🖤 Anon and a similar ask to that, then I might couple most or a few anons about NC together because Ik it can get exhausting just seeing a stream of negativity on the dash no matter how much we dislike her - we gotta be conscious of our information diet (hell even I get sick of myself always being so negative lmao even if this shit needs to be call out), I still have a lot of backlogged CC asks that I honestly cannot find the energy to answer them thoughtfully oop but Imma just post them in one master post so yall can see the two sides of it and just let your asks have a convo with each other XD 

[valhallansim]

I DID IT

I JUST FINISHED THE 100 BABY CHALLENGE.

IT FEELS KINDA SURREAL?

Took the last screenshots just now. Alex is alone in her house after 104 babies total (102 of which count for the challenge since 2 of them I had shared a father she had kids with before and do not count).

I started this challenge in january of 2019, and after many breaks inbetween (some which almost lasted 5 months) - I did it!

It may not have been the baby challenge according to the rules 100% (I only had Alex as a matriarch in the end, and made her immortal), but it counts for me!

Thank you all for keeping up with the challenge for these past 2 years! I would never have completed it were it not for your nice messages, the laughs and your donors. Thank you so much!

I will now be focusing on getting all of the screenshots edited and queued up, which is another big task ahead of me. There’s almost 1500 screenshots left for me to sort through, edit and post for you guys - so I’ll be getting right on that! Should I create a decent enough backlog, I might go back to having them posted 3 or 4 times a day instead of 2.

And after that - it’s time for a new challenge! I will be attempting the Dungeons & Dragons challenge my dear friend @demonicrosebushsims came up with. And, of course - creating more CC, as always!!

EDIT: I forgot to mention that I am also in the process of uploading all the babies to the gallery, and I will be releasing them with their CC lists on here as well!! 

[kassandra-lorelei]

Hey! I don't know if you still do these but would you be able to write an n/cc fic where instead of proposing in The Producers, Niles tells CC the play was for her ? Thank you and I love your writing!!

I absolutely still do these, Anon - I have no idea how long you have been waiting now and I’m so sorry it’s taken this long! I have quite a backlog to get through, with full-time work and general adult life (as well as some executive dysfunction), but this one is all ready to go. I really hope you enjoy it, and I will get on the next one on the list as soon as possible (it may happen quicker, considering we’re on lockdown for at least another two weeks, but we shall see how these things go) ❤️

@missbabcocks1 @holomoriarty

“You finally pulled off something bigger than your shorts!”

The zinger, alongside the accompanying gleeful laughter – asexpected as this package would normally have been – utterly blindsided Niles,given that Miss Babcock had only just told him how impressed she was. Impressed.She’d actually used the word “impressed”, to talk about this entire play thathe’d produced! The play that now this entire room full of people werecelebrating, at an afterparty he’d never before imagined could exist.

It had been like music, hearing the words from her lips, rubyred and curved into a smile that looked far softer and friendlier than normal…

He should have known she was setting him up. Why wouldn’tshe be? Since when did they ever do anything that wouldn’t somehow lead to the (atleast) momentary downfall of the other? It was all they ever did.

And his only hope of salvation at that moment was to thinkup a snappy retort that he could fire back at the back of her golden head,where she’d crushingly turned away.

But even though words and phrases and colourful insults of allshades and hues danced through his head, urging him to continue the wargames, everysingle one of them died the moment he attempted to let them fall onto histongue.

It was useless. The entire idea of having her as his enemy hadno meaning to it.

What was the actual point, in letting it go on? In allowingthe cycle that ran a far-too-thin line between hurt and fun to just…run theirlives? Would it go on forever, him never admitting how he felt and neverhearing what she really felt, either, whatever that was? As terrifying as itwas to think that they might be nothing otherwise, this all currently felt likea twisted Purgatory; one where the stranded soul could experience both Heavenand Hell in equal, random measure.

There was only one thing he could do. Only one, if he wantedto take a shot at reaching paradise.

Even if he fell on the way, at least he would have tried.

And, after a moment in which he had gathered his courage andhad dumped a few phrases from his mind that would either scare her (“Marry me”;who wanted to immediately be asked that?) or come across as peculiar (“I pulledthem off for you”; what was that even supposed to mean?!), he finally knew whathe had to say.

“And it was all done for you.”

He wondered, for a moment, if she hadn’t heard him. If hewas about to have another moment like he’d had in the kitchen, where he hadbeen able to swiftly back out the second he’d realised it had been a bad idea.

But she turned, eyes wider than before and lips slightlyparted, as though she were holding herself back from simply letting her jawdrop.

“What did you just say?”

Her tone told him she wasn’t asking because she hadn’theard. She was asking precisely because she had heard. She’d heard, and shecouldn’t believe any of it.

Niles, meanwhile, was rooted to the spot and hastily tellingevery panicked thought in his mind that he wasn’t about to turn and run away.

There was no point in backing out now. No chance to, either.

He pulled another breath into his lungs, making it deep. Hehad a feeling that it could be one of his last, anyway, so he might as wellmake it a good one.

“I…I said that this show was…made for you,” he explained,finding it a gargantuan effort simply to not swallow his own tongue in theprocess. “I produced it for you. As a…as a token…of my affection…”

He trailed off as Miss Babcock took a step in his direction.But it wasn’t a ‘happy’ step, or even a surprised one (though she’d have everyright to be surprised, if she was feeling it underneath the apparent anger); itwas more the sort of march forward one might expect of an army captain whohad just heard a war prisoner speaking out of turn. The sort of step that commanded,while ordering an explanation the person most likely would no longer know howto give.

And it made Niles suddenly very aware of the fact that he’djust told this to her in a room full of other people, both friends andstrangers, all of whom had already been to see a show that evening. As thebutler wasn’t keen on the idea of them seeing another one, he directed his gazeall around them, indicating the fact that they weren’t alone and any sort ofscene made would have witnesses.

“Should we perhaps…go somewhere else to talk? I know thatthis must be-“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Miss Babcock hadalready gotten close enough to reach out and grab his wrist, dragging him outof the room.

“You’re damn right we’re going somewhere else to talk!”

……………………………………………………………………………………….

The journey she took him on through the building seemed to goon forever, neither one of them speaking a word until Miss Babcock finallysettled on a small room which appeared to be used to store props and a few racksof costumes. Again, it wasn’t exactly the stunning Hollywood setting hiswildest fantasies conjured up in the dead of night, but this was reality.

He’d be a fool to really think they’d go to some privateterrace overlooking the city, where all the feelings would come out as themusic rose to a great crescendo, whereupon they’d immediately fall into eachothers’ arms.

He was, in truth, lucky that she hadn’t simply laughed athim before walking away, back at the party.

On the other hand, the look on her face as she closed thedoor behind them, standing between him and the only available exit, made himthink that there were still far more fortunate people out there than he was.

“Alright, Butler Boy, you’d better start going against yourbetter drinks-pouring instincts and spill!”

On any other day, and in any other place at any other time, Nilesmight have considered turning that demand into a zinger. But as thingscurrently stood, he couldn’t even work up the nerve to think of one, let alonesay it out loud.

All he had was what he had worked up all this courage totell her.

With no idea of where to begin, if he was honest. There wasso much that he wanted – had – to get out, that it all wanted to come rushingout at once! But that wouldn’t work; it would just get all jumbled up andconfuse Miss Babcock at best, or make her angrier than she already was, atworst.

Maybe it was best if she decided what he started with? Thatway he could focus on one thing at once…

“Where would you like me to start?”

The question came out much meeker and softer than he’dwanted it to be, and that want quickly transferred to the idea of kickinghimself. He didn’t exactly sound like James Bond, this way. More like the guywho never made it through basic spy training because he cried whenever the timecame for interrogation practice.

If he could just be calm and rational about it all, it mightnot be so difficult.

Not that the producer made it easy, simply by being there infront of him. This was different from his many awkward-but-at-least-practicedattempts at telling her, done in front of the mirror at the mansion. He didn’thave anybody glaring at him, for a start.

Further emphasising the point, Miss Babcock also folded herarms, “I don’t know, maybe on that word you used – you know the one; affection.”

Niles silently held his breath before even trying torespond.

“What about it?”

“Where the hell did it come from, perhaps?! Just to startoff with,” she shouted in return, sounding equal parts bewildered and enraged. “Andthen maybe why you thought you could just say it like that?!”

“I didn’t think I could just say it like that!” he foundhimself arguing in return, sadness and fear giving way to his chest starting tocave in. “I…I had to get it out before I lost my nerve.”

““Lost your nerve”?” Miss Babcock echoed, scoffing at thesame time. She then folded her arms. “That makes it sound like this wasn’t somesort of practical joke on your part!”

Niles’ jaw dropped of its own accord, words tumbling outbefore he could stop to think rationally, “Why on Earth would you believe thatit was a practical joke…?!”

“Isn’t everything else you do to me a prank, or a practicaljoke of some kind?!” the producer snapped. “Why would this be any different?”

The butler let his mouth close again. His mind was warringover whether he could scarcely believe what he’d heard, or if he was justshocked and upset because he knew that she was right. He supposed it was amixture of both, along with the realisation that that really was what was goingon – if they both thought it, separately, without any input from the other, howcould it not be true?

There had barely been an interaction between them whichhadn’t started with some sort of practical joke, from one side or the other. Andhe had started it all. In his foolish – and perhaps insane – attempts to benoticed by someone who would otherwise never have much of a reason to even lookat him for more than a few seconds, he had started their rivalry.

Miss Babcock had simply retaliated; given back as good asshe’d gotten.

She must’ve mistaken his horrified silence for an admissionof guilt in the present moment because she continued. Only this time, shesounded…almost resigned. As if she believed the whole evening had been leadingup to this very second, and she was upset that she hadn’t seen or understoodthat fact before now.

Niles didn’t know why that would be the case. It was justhow she appeared.

The producer leaned on the nearest prop crate, arms stillfolded and now looking at him with more than a mild degree of expectation, aswell as annoyance.

“So come on and own up; what was the punchline in this latestand greatest trick of yours? Or did I spoil the whole thing, by not letting usbe in a room full of people who could hear it?”

The butler silently swallowed before he answered. This wastruly it; there was no going back from this moment on.

“There is no punchline.”

Miss Babcock scoffed again, rolling her eyes.

“Oh come on, Niles, of course there’s a punchline!” shecried out in disbelief. “That’s like saying that there’s no-”

“There is no punchline, Miss Babcock!” Niles was moreforceful in his insistence, this time. It was as though something in him hadsnapped, at last – as though it had gotten weary or sick of backing down, ornever even speaking up in the first place. “It wasn’t a joke. I produced thatplay for you, as a token of my affection.”

“What the hell do you mean, “affection”?!” she shouted back.

That was more than enough to open the floodgates.

Scratch that, actually; opening the floodgates might implythat they could be closed again and something could still be held back. Thiswas more like someone had taken a giant wrecking ball to the wall of the dam.

“How can I put that word any more simply than you alreadyhave it?! Affection! Caring! Fondness! I am in love with you, you stupidwitch!”

For an instant – a point suspended in time which might’vebeen minutes, or just mere seconds – Miss Babcock looked amazed. Her eyes wentwide with shock, but no horror, and she appeared struck by the notion that hehad opened up beyond all measure. She actually looked quite a bit like she hadin each of Niles’ fantasies, just before the point where she would quietly ask“Really?”, before he’d say yes and they’d embrace in whatever fanciful or over-the-toplocation he’d picked for his mind’s outing that particular evening.

But, as he’d noted when they’d gone in, this was real life,taking place in an unimportant prop closet that didn’t even have so much as awindow to let in light, let alone provide Oscar-worthy cinematography and mise-en-scène.

And the instant ended as quickly as it had begun, when theproducer seemed to shake herself out of it and spring right back into anger.

“Oh, baloney! Since when have you ever displayed one iota ofinterest in me that could’ve come across as being in love?!”

Whatever had snapped in the butler before, could only havesnapped partially. He knew this because he felt the rest of it go and his ownanger – built up over years of frustration, pain and sorrow – flared to life.

“Whenever would you have let me?! Would an ordinary servantwho barely uttered a word and whom you would only see when they brought you teaor took your coat ever have stood a chance?” he took a step forward, letting gocompletely as the feelings took over. He jabbed the air in between them,pointing at her accusingly. “Be completely honest with both me and yourself,just this once, and tell me; would you have even seen me as a person if Ihadn’t gone further?”

There would almost have been another silence, had he notsworn he could hear the resounding slap to Miss Babcock’s face that his wordshad just produced. Even if she was trying to hold it together, he could tellthat the hit had landed – he saw a light dim in her eyes, that he had never,ever seen get even slightly dull before. Even in their worst moments, thosesapphires had never been anything less than bright, whether they were sparklingwith delight or burning with fire.

The guilt started in his throat and burrowed downwards,hollowing him out into the pit of his stomach. It was more than enough to makehim duck his head away in shame.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” he bit the insideof his lip, every awful feeling word churning up his insides. “Just as Ishouldn’t have said or done a lot of things. I felt as though I had no choice;I could either stay an active part of your day-to-day life, albeit one that stuckin your craw, or I could just…blend into the furniture, like all the otherservants your family has ever known.”

He found himself leaning on his own crate and stared a holeinto the floor, the weight of everything coming crashing down on him, from thenotion of his own worthlessness in life to the knowledge that he’d been a foolto even try and attempt this.

“I suppose this play was just yet another desperate butfailed attempt at being more.”

“Desperate and failed”, indeed. The two words summed him upperfectly. He was nothing more than a stupid butler, who’d done too much damagein a place where he just simply wasn’t wanted. And even if he had had a chance,how good would those chances have been against someone else’s? That slimpossibility that she might look in his direction was nothing, compared to whatwould happen if some rich, handsome, charming fellow passed her way.

He couldn’t even begin to hold a candle to what she couldget. Or what she deserved. The chance was nothing, and so was he.

There wasn’t anything else to it, then. He had to leave – he’dapologise for even bringing this entire business up, promise to never let it affecthis work or hers (there would be no more pranks, to start with) and then hewould go. As he had no way of obtaining a new job, he would simply stay out ofher way at the mansion, as best he could. The entire afterparty was over forhim, too, so he had no qualms about leaving it. He wasn’t in much of acelebratory mood.

He was about to start with the first part by getting up fromhis temporary perch, when Miss Babcock’s voice cut through the still, slightlystale air.

“You’re right.”

He knew he was; that was why he felt so terrible. But hecouldn’t help being curious about which bit in particular she wanted to bringup and discuss.

“…About which part?”

He never expected the answer he got.

“All of it. All the stuff to do with me, anyway,” she mumbled,before shifting in chosen seat to apparently get more comfortable. “Ever sinceI was a little girl, my family always taught me how to act around servants.“They’re there to give you what you need, you don’t have to thank them!”, “It’stheir job to look after us, we don’t mix with them for pleasure!”, “Stoptalking to them so much, they’re not your friends!”…but I couldn’t help talkingto you. As much as you’ve always been a pain in my ass, I’ve never been able tohelp stopping whatever the hell I’m doing and talking to you. Paying attentionto you. My mother would probably say it was you “stepping out of line” that haddone it, but you know what?”

Niles had been slowly looking up even as she’d spoken, but itwas obvious that she had his full attention by the time she got to thatquestion. The pit in his stomach seemed to have – at least temporarily – filleditself. He didn’t dare call it hope, even if that was what it was.

He had to wait, and find out what Miss Babcock said nextfirst.

Her words came out like she felt liberated.

“I…I don’t really think I care. All those times that we’vehad – the fun ones, especially, like your friend’s wedding, or the BroadwayGuild Awards…they didn’t feel bad or wrong. My mother would’ve called themthat, but they weren’t. I liked doing those things with you, and I don’t feelembarrassed about them, even though God knows just saying it out loud iskilling me, right now…!”

It was her turn to look away, towards the floor. Even in thelower light of the storage room, Niles thought he could see a tinge of pink inher cheeks.

The not-hope feeling in his stomach faltered betweenstrengthening and shattering. Was she really blushing? She couldn’t be, couldshe? C.C. Babcock, Ice Queen of New York City and the Bitch of Broadway, wouldnever dream of blushing! Especially not over all the times she’d spent withhim!

But…if that wasn’t the case, then what else could she bedoing?

Did he have to test the waters and find out? Some might saythey were shark infested…

But how could he leave it all where it was, either? He’dcome so far, with so much courage plucked up that if it had been feathers froma bird, it would’ve been bald and ready to be stuffed for Thanksgiving by now.

He’d done all of this – nearly bankrupted their boss, gottenone of his closest friends into trouble with her husband and somehow pulled offa spectacular Broadway show – simply to tell her how he felt. Could he reallylive with himself if he let it all go to waste, because of a moment’shesitation at the last second?

Niles honestly didn’t think that he could.

So, he did what he might have imagined unthinkable, at onepoint in their relationship. He got up from where he was sat and walked overto sit down on the crate next to her. She looked at him the entire way over,and she didn’t stop even when he was sat down, barely half a foot of space betweenthem.

“I enjoyed those days, too, very much,” he said. “I’vealways wanted more of them…”

“Yeah. Me too,” she replied quietly, biting theinside of her lip as though deciding whether or not to say anything else. Then,she made up her mind. “To be honest, those times have been some of the bestI’ve ever had. Better than anything I could ever even dream of with…”

Her eyes dropped back to the floor again, clearly even moreembarrassed than only a few seconds ago, when she’d told him that she’d likedspending time with him.

It didn’t take a genius to work out which name would’vefilled the trailed-off silence.

Mr. Sheffield. She was talking about Mr. Sheffield…!

And…and she was saying that all the times they’d spenttogether – the nights out, the dancing, drinking, having fun – all meant moreto her than…than anything she’d ever imagined in her head!

He, the real-life butler Niles, had somehow managed to beatout the idealised version of Maxwell Sheffield. The one person he never thoughthe’d ever be able to compete with, in looks, or charm, or money, and yet he hadcome out on top. And not even some fantasy version, where he could hope to holda candle to their employer – just…regular old him!

It all sounded like a complete and utter dream come true;the kind that was normally heartbreaking in reality because you knew it neverwould, and yet here he was, living it out!

He even thought that he could feel the not-hope changing itsname.

“You…you really do mean that?” he asked, in awe as much ashe was in disbelief.

Miss Babcock looked at him briefly from the corner of her eye,then nodded, “Guess I finally figured I’ve been getting my priorities allscrewed up. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s ever happened.”

The butler frowned, his previous worries now turning to thefact that she was beating herself up over what she’d felt was right before.Hearing what her life had been like, when she was young and was being strongly influencedby her mother, somehow it all made sense that she would look for a rich man. Anyrich man, as long as he could prove his wealth and his connections. Mr. Sheffield had simply been the perfect candidate for a long checklist that theproducer had been given to carry around her whole life, whether she cared aboutwhat was on the list or not.

She’d probably convinced herself that she did care, simplyto make it easier. Not that it had turned out easier, but that was anothermatter entirely.

He let his hand slide along the prop crate, so it was closerto hers, “There’s no reason for you to be harsh with yourself over this.”

Miss Babcock sighed, shaking her head.

“You don’t have to make me feel better about it, Niles. I’mthe one who got it all wrong,” she said, shame permeating her tone. “Worst partis, I wouldn’t have even thought about it, if it weren’t for…all that stuffthat happened, back at Hanukkah…”

Niles winced minutely even at the mere thought of thatnight. The hours had stretched out for him in a way he’d never imaginedpossible, and the terror of it possibly turning into the worst night of hislife had hung over him like a curse. It was a curse that hadn’t been brokenuntil their nearly-lost loved ones had all piled in through the door, cold,hungry and exhausted, but mercifully alive.

Between the two of them, there had been a sort of unspokentruce that night. But even in a time when they probably could have spokenfreely, they had almost deliberately held back. They probably thought they wereprotecting themselves – protecting the game they had going on.

Now wasn’t the time for holding back, though. And the gamewasn’t worth protecting in that sense anymore, anyway.

“What did you think, that night?” he asked quietly.

“I was…scared. Well, more like terrified, actually,” sheadmitted, sounding like the words had been aching to come out of her mouth eversince she’d had the feeling. “I thought I was going to freeze to death in theback of that car. I gave it my best shot to act like everything was just fine –that everything was normal and okay. But the moment Maxwell and the Little One gottalking about what would happen if the car wasn’t found, it made me think.Hard. And don’t you dare say that’s a dangerous occupation for me.”

Niles shook his head, “I wasn’t going to.”

Miss Babcock looked uncomfortable for a moment, shufflingand shifting on the spot.

“Sorry; force of habit, I guess,” she said, beforecontinuing her explanation. “It…it made me think, and it made me realise that Iwasn’t thinking about…anybody in the car.”

Again, that was another blatant reference to their employer,quickly followed by her turning her eyes up and truly meeting his gaze for thefirst time in this conversation.

“But I was thinking about what I could be losing.”

It was obvious what she meant, even without her actuallysaying it. The words needed to tell him were probably too monumental, toosignificant and weighted with meaning in her mind to get out right then andthere. She needed time to process them, and he realised now that he understoodthat. He’d had far too long to mull over his own thoughts and feelings, but herswere only just starting to dawn in her conscious mind.

He wasn’t going to overwhelm her any more than she alreadyhad been by saying more than he needed to. He’d use her language – theirlanguage, perhaps? – and take it slowly.

“That was how I felt, that night. It accidentally slippedout, while we were on the phone to the police, looking for you all,” he toldher. “I covered my tracks, of course, but there was no coming back from it forme.”

He thought he heard the producer make a noise in the back ofher throat, but she gave no other reply. Instead, silence overtook the littleroom again.

Before it could drag on too long, the butler spoke up again,the last of his thoughts coming together in a way that made coherent sense, foronce.

“Maybe this play – for me, in some ways – wasn’t just about stayingnoticed. It took it further than that. Perhaps…perhaps I was worried about whatI could lose, too,” he said. “We’ve been going at this a long time, withoutreally talking or trying anything else. I knew that eventually, it would haveto end. You would find someone, like Chandler or…or Colin. Only they’d be evenbetter, this time, and all my chances, however slight, would’ve been used up. Andwe’ve already lost enough before now…”

His confession made him wonder if he’d tipped the scales toofar in the opposite direction, and he shut himself up as he waited for herreply.

Not for the first time that night, what he heard in returnwasn’t what he’d expected.

“We haven’t lost anything tonight.”

That made him look directly at her, “We haven’t…?”

“I don’t think so,” she turned herself – her entire bodythis time – so that she was facing him more directly, her leg leaning on theedge of the crate. “I, uh…I actually think it might be nice, to try somethingnew. To stop getting hung up on stuff that isn’t right, and going around incircles because of it. If we try to move forward, maybe we’ll reach a point wherewe both end up winning.”

Niles didn’t know if time had slowed so much that it feltlike his heart had stopped, or whether it had just exploded in a sort of silentfirework that burst in the feeling equivalents of bright reds and pinks, turningto vibrant greens and yellows, before sparkling away in glitters of gold.

His not moving (which came from shock and awe, nothing else)clearly sent off the wrong signal to Miss Babcock, because she cleared herthroat, looking awkward and embarrassed.

“If you still want to, obviously.”

That was when his hand finally dared to hold hers, whichsent her gaze straight back to his.

The butler’s voice was barely above a whisper, “I neverstopped wanting to.”

He didn’t know if he had leaned in first, or whether she wasalready there when his lips met hers. He didn’t particularly care, either. Allthat mattered was the feeling of her in his arms, which made their way aroundher lower back, as hers pulled him in for the kiss to deepen. He felt her arms wraparound his neck, and she moaned into his mouth as she let his tongue start toexplore, hers leaving him groaning as she started her own discoveries.

But it was only a start. They had to pull away for air far soonerthan either would have liked, but they stayed with their arms around oneanother, and it wasn’t long before Niles felt ready to go back in for anotherkiss.

Miss Babcock stopped him, however, teasingly placing afinger on his lips.

“We’re gonna have to get back in there sooner or later,Scrub Brush,” she said, her voice low and her eyes dark. “After-afterpartieshave to wait.”

Niles tried not to deflate too much; he knew she was right,after all. They had a whole room full of people who would have noticed thatthey hadn’t come back in by now. And even if most of them weren’t concerned forone reason or another, he could very easily imagine Fran coming back there tolook for them (read: to find out if her plan had worked just as she’d wanted).And the things he had in mind were the last thing he ever wanted her to see.

But he couldn’t help taking a particularly interested note atthe idea of the producer saying their “after-afterparty” simply had to wait. Forhow long? Did she want to test the waters more before they made the leap? He’dwait for as long as she wanted, obviously, but he also wanted to ensure thatthey were completely on the same page.

They’d been reading the same information in such different waysfor too long, now.

He kissed her fingertip, before pulling away to speak.

“For anything in particular?” he asked, taking her hand andkissing the palm.

“To see how the rest of the night goes,” she answered,getting up and pulling him to his feet playfully as she did. “If it turns out asgood as the play was, you might want to stick around.”

Niles’ eyebrow quirked, and he gave her a lopsided grin.

“And if it’s duller than dishwater?”

Miss Babcock started to grin in return, and she looped herarm in his to lead him out before she gave any sort of reply.

“Then we already know there’s an empty storage closet backhere, don’t we?”

[mapsofthelost]

BENEATH

When you spend your life wading through human waste and destroying giant monsters made of baby wipes and chicken shop fat, you would not be surprised by much. But there's a sewerage worker in west London who saw something that changed his world. One night, the worse for drink, he shared his story in a Kilburn pub and I record it for you here as a near verbatim entry to the Maps of the Lost - although the precise directions are uncertain, as I will admit to some large measure of drink being taken.

"I'd been tasked with checking some damage reported in an obscure off-branch of the Kilburn to Wick Lane mid-level that runs into the Northern Outflow Sewer. One of the main passages was getting reports of a leak coming down from above, and we were pretty sure it was a disused minor sewer running about thirty feet off the main - one of those that you had to go back to the old maps to find. I was meant to take a look along the old route with Eddie, but surprise surprise he's on the sick again, knows just how much you can take for the year before they start making noises about getting rid. He's a sharp one, he is.

They don't like us working alone but there was a backlog of jobs and too few people to do them - same old same old story. So off I went. But I think I took a wrong turning heading north in the old network, and found myself in a small branch I didn't recognise - some of the older maps aren't what they should be. It was dark, and there was just a foot or so of water, standing, no flow. I carried on along because if I had worked my bearings out right I'd reach a gate after five hundred yards or so which would let me scramble into one of the feeders in the new network and back where I ought to be.

So I'm splashing along, cursing myself for going the wrong way and wasting time when there's a backlog of jobs and too few - well, I've said that, haven't I - and then I hear voices. Or at least, I think I hear voices. You often do down there, and you write it off as acoustics, you wouldn't believe how it carries sometimes. Or you write it off as your imagination, not that the kind of bloke who works down there is prone to much in the way of imagination because you'd not last an hour if you were, but we're all human.

Anyways, I turn a bend and see light, in one of the tunnel walls. Not like daylight, or the kinda light on my helmet, but a soft yellow square. I get closer and see there's a hole in the wall. Square, like a...window.

So I did what anyone would do. I looked through it.

And there on the other side...

Well, you'll think I'm mad. Or drunk. Well, I am drunk, but I wasn't then, and I'm not mad. I know what I saw.

I saw a room, big, big as one of the main chambers but not one of the main chambers, this was...decorated. Hangings on the walls. A long polished table, dotted with candles that gave off that soft yellow light, candles and dishes and silver bowls and around the table, dressed as if at a society ball...people. Well, *like* people. There was something...but no, must have been people. Must have been. It's just...the clothes didn't look as if they fit their shapes right.

Then there was movement, swift and sudden, eyes glaring at me through the hole and then a stone slammed into it to close it. I don't mind telling you, not much bothers me but those eyes did, those eyes and the thought that there would be other entrances to the room and some of those in it might be leaving those to find me. So I ran and I ran and I fell and I ran and I hit my head - see, can still see the bruise - and I scraped my shins - and I don't know how but I found my way to a main, and out. I told them I saw no leak. Then I took a leaf out of Eddie's book and have been on the sick. My back, I said. Which is kind of right. Because I can't see myself going back. Not down there. Not ever. Nowhere those eyes might be. Now, you owe me another pint for that."

I went back the next week with a book of old sewer maps I'd bought from a particular bookshop in Bow so I could chart this entry properly, but the man was not in the pub and no one had seen him for a couple of days. An old man propping up the bar was the last to see him; he told me he'd been standing in the pub doorway when the man left for the last time. The old man had bent his head to light a cigarette against the wind, and when he looked up the man was gone.

The old man knew the sewer worker must have taken the road towards the railway bridge because while he lit his cigarette he heard what must have been the clank of him stepping on a loose manhole cover. Must have been a hell of a fast walker, the old man said. It's a long old street.

(Photo courtesy of: https://www.flickr.com/photos/londonmatt/ Attribution 2.0 Generic (CC BY 2.0))

[contradictoryenigmas]

2019 Postmortem: 10 Questions

2019 is coming to a close and it’s time to look back via ten questions. If you’re new to this series, I recommend checking out the ones I did in 2017 and 2018. While 2019 had its ups and downs, this was the first year where I can say it worked out quite well.

What made up your body of work this year? Which parts are you most proud of?

Most of the work that made up this year was with my new day job as a car specifications researcher. You may think that researching car specs would be easy, but I wasn’t fully prepared for how in-depth it would go. For example, I have to look up both the liters and cc’s of an engine to input into the system. Nevertheless, a lot of knowledge I had from writing reviews and previews has come in handy when trying to decipher what a company names a certain piece of tech or figuring out where to find that one piece of information.

As for my writing, I haven’t done much. Towards the end of last year and beginning of this year, I was feeling less enthusiastic about writing anything - feeling like I was phoning it in to get something up. When I started my new job back in mid-February, I took a break to try and give my brain a break from it. I have slowly dipped my toes back in it during the spring and summer, but started to do more towards the end of the year - a combination of writing for an internal news service my company offers and finishing a backlog of reviews. Writing is still a bit of struggle as my creative side of the brain is still running on fumes and I only get about a quarter to half-way on a piece before setting it aside, most likely not coming back to it.

There were a couple of pieces that did make their way out over the year and I’m quite proud of them.

Afterthoughts: The Sad Trombone of the 2019 Detroit Auto Show (Cheers & Gears): Some passing thoughts on what would be the final Detroit Auto Show held in January. It would be memorable for all of the wrong reasons and made me wonder what the future will hold as the show moves to the summer for 2020.

Three Years On, A Brain Dump (Contradictory Enigmas): Looking back at three years of this site, what has come, and what I had hoped to do in the coming year - sadly none of those items came to fruition.

What were your top 5 moments of the year?

Finally achieving a major goal of getting a job

Turing 30 years old

Beginning to make some progress on other major goals

Reducing my hermit tendencies and going to a small number of events

Continue working on giving me more space to relax

What are you really glad is over?

Uncertainty reared its ugly head again throughout the year. It ranged from whether I was the right person for the new job I had accepted to worrying about whether or not I would have enough money to cover unexpected expenses. Luckily, I remembered that if I took it slow and worked it out - whether through thought or writing it down - the uncertainty would begin to wither away.

How are you different today than you were 365 days ago?

The most difficult part of this year is trying not to feel like I need to constantly work. Being a full-time freelance writer for the past seven years left me with a routine of constantly being busy to try and keep myself afloat. Drew Magary on Vice sums it up quite well.

When you freelance, you know that every job is temporary. You might get paid well, but you can’t assume that will always be the case. I remember being pathologically incapable of turning down work when I freelanced. Every assignment I didn’t do was money lost. I felt as if I already HAD the money and was giving it away by not doing the work.

That meant I gleefully accepted multiple gigs at once, and on weekends, and over holidays. I can’t speak for other freelancers out there, but a kind of PTSD sets in if you do this long enough, where you always fear the faucet will be shut off with a cursory email from a temp boss or, worse, no emails of any sort. There’s such a short distance between “I freelance” and “I’m unemployed” that the two statements often feel indistinguishable.

Emphasis mine.

This feeling still resides in my head and constantly tells me that I should be doing some sort of work, even though I know that giving myself some breathing space is good. This wasn’t helped by my growing amount of work throughout the year as new hires that were brought in around the same time as me either decided to go with another career or were let go. Getting some of their workloads on top of mine meant the feeling of “when will I find the time” started to creep in. Only setting some ground rules did this alleviate this feeling somewhat. I’m hoping this feeling goes away as time goes on.

I mentioned last year that I was re-diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). At the time, I was seeing a psychiatrist and was on medication to help me control some of the various issues I’ve been dealing with. But a combination of the new job, not having the time to make the hour-long trek to see the psychiatrist, and the expensive cost of the medication meant I had to put a stop to this for the time being. This has meant a return of the various symptoms (being able to focus on one task, having my mind wander, forgetting various things, etc). It has also meant that it is hard for me to relax with anything for a few moments because it doesn’t provide my brain enough stimuli to keep me occupied. Oddly, doing work of some sort seems to provide stimuli. But it comes at the cost of me not being to relax.

Pic Credit: Pina ADHD_Alien

On the plus side, starting this new job has brought something that I wanted for some time - separate spaces. What I mean by this is having one space for my work (the office) and then another to relax (the house). Previously, I would be working on stuff in the same room where I would sleep, causing all sorts of anxiety and feelings that I should be working on. Having that separation allows me some breathing space, despite that being somewhat difficult.

It’s also nice having a steady income and not one that is a roller coaster of sorts. Various amounts of money coming in at different times gave me a lot of stress. Moving to something that follows a regular pattern not only gives me a bit of breathing room for anything unexpected but also allows me to plan out new ideas and trips,

To cap off this section, I’m glad that I’m still involved in covering the automotive industry. I have dialed it back by a large amount, but I think this may be for the better as it means I can take more time and produce higher-quality pieces.

Is there anything you achieved that you forgot to celebrate?

Nothing that I can think of.

What have you changed your perspective on this year?

Talking about my mental health in public. I’ve been slowly talking about how I have both ADHD and clinical depression on various forums after seeing a number for friends and people who admire talk about it. I’m still in a grey area of how much I should reveal and whether it is worth it. I can see there is a lot of good as you see other people come out of the woodwork and reveal some of the issues they’re dealing with. But some don’t believe mental illness is a thing or will go out of their way to make it worse. This is a balancing act that I’m trying to figure out.

Who are the people that really came through for you this year?  

A lot of the people that I work with at my job. Whether it be the various supervisors that would take time to answer a question I’m sure they have been asked countless times, to the other researchers who I might help with a quick issue or chit-chat about whatever, they have all played a part in making me feel welcomed.

What were some pieces of media that defined your year?

The Heavy, Sons: It has been a long time coming for the group’s latest album and it is very much worth it. All of the traits that I like about their previous albums such as the gritty sound and soulful lyrics are present. Heavy for You, their first single off this album has been on constant repeat.

Choom, Progger: I can’t explain why this dark jazz-funk-rock hybrid song just clicked with me. Maybe its how all of the instruments are arranged to provide a dark mood in one part, and then rise with something lighter later on. All I know is this song helped out in some bleak times during this year.

Nintendo Switch: An early Christmas gift to myself, I’m surprised at how much I have been playing. It is cool to play something on the TV and then undock it to continue playing while on the move. This has captured the magic and fun that I had been missing on playing video games throughout the year. So far, I have beaten Super Mario Odyssey and will be checking out Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening.

What will you be leaving behind in 2019?

The feelings of not being able to fully plan out stuff. Since starting the new job, I have been able to make slightly more concrete plans to ideas or items that I want to do soon. Some of these have come fruition, while others are still in the planning stages. This may not seem like a big accomplishment, but considering that the past few years where it mostly treading water and putting off various items because of one thing or another, it is a huge weight off my back.

What do you hope to accomplish in 2020?

There are two items that I want to work on writing and photography. I’ve been feeling either drained or hit a wall in terms of knowledge and want to expand it more.

For my writing, I want to try and recapture some of the fun and creativeness that I had when I first started many moons ago. I have some books including The Writer’s Way that has been recommended by a few people to help rekindle this. I’m also wanting to do other writings such as doing some history pieces, and more stuff on this blog. But of course, trying to find the time to do this will be one of the challenges.

As for the photography, I’m planning on doing some sort of online course and some reading to help me understand basic photography ideas, along with exploring various settings on my DSLR. I tend to shoot mostly in Auto without the flash and while it does deliver decent photos, I know that it is capable of more. I’m also wanting a new camera, a prosumer point-and-shoot to expand the possibility of taking more photos.

There are some long-term goals sprinkled in here such as working towards moving out of my parent’s house into my place. I have started saving up a fair amount of cash to cover a security deposit and a month’s rent, but I’m trying to aim for at least two to three months of rent to give a bit of a cushion. Also taking some sort of vacation is in the cards. Not sure where I want to go, but I do know it will be out of state.

That’s a wrap for this year’s postmortem. 2019 wasn’t a complete mess and hoping 2020 continues that trend.

[akasen-the-red]

Winter 2018 Anime Season (or “How I continue to overwhelm myself with series”)

While I don’t often write on tumblr about it, there is a consistent theme with me and anime lately where I question if I’m becoming burnt out on anime or finding it difficult to enjoy it.

Well last season found me with a large list of series I was planning to watch or had on a backburner. I often count out at least 10 series to most people, but I’m honestly gonna say 9.

That’s still a hefty number though, make no mistake. That’s probably the most anime I’ve ever had interest in, and attempted to watch, in a single season. The question is, “What were these series and what’s their status?”. This is a good question to ask cause it helps to know whether that number is legitimate or not

Good question, let’s get to it

Overlord 2 - Finished yesterday

Yuru Camp - Saw the first episode, preparing to binge the series since the seasons over

Violet Evergarden -  Up to episode 6, want to binge

Pop Team Epic - Episode 1 (I’ve basically been wanting to binge it since the first episode was 12 minutes in length and I expected the rest of the series to follow suit)

Darling in the FranXX - Episode 11 right now. My thoughts? It’s super mediocre as fuck, but not exactly terrible

Sora Yori mo Tooi Basho - Haven’t even started. From what I’ve seen though, I love it already. Hetare would speak a lot of praise of it.

Koi wa Ameagari no You ni - Not started. Might not start. Don’t know much about it. Nobody talked about it. Don’t know how it got on a list. Might have to watch an episode

Junji Ito Collection - Didn’t start. Dropped off list due to talk of animation not being the best. Disappointing

Mitsuboshi Colors - My MAL says 1 episode, but I think I saw 2. Will probably binge

Karakai Jouzu no Takagi-san - Episode 1, wanting to read the manga for this as well. was pretty cute

Card Captor Sakura: Clear Card - On hold til I watch the whole of the original CCS (Also somewhat surprised not a lot of people are talking about this it seems)

And that’s the list, and indeed ten series are there, eleven by all means, though I’d say it’s more accurately nine.

Technically though, I did binge one series from last season, Juuni Taisen, which I was entertained by. I wouldn’t heavily recommend it, but I liked it quite well enough.

I think this season is full of some generally quality anime though. Not all of it is sensational mind you, but it’s good stuff. I could drop a couple series to allow for binging of others, or rather to allow me to do other things (like reading a book), but I feel like if I do, i’d miss out on something. But maybe forcing myself to watch something when I realize I don’t fully enjoy it isn’t the best idea.

What’s the true takeaway from this though? Probably to get out of crap fast. Probably that it’s better to binge watch a series. Sure, I miss out on the conversation going on when the series is airing, but then I haven’t really discussed anime in depth with anyone for years now, and the people I would talk anime to are very busy (or terrible at checking messages. Probably both)

I’ve got a backlog from last season as well on my MAL, so it might be wise to start cutting through that altogether before the bulk of this season starts. Because this season has started