#this is the point where i should be making a checklist of ridiculously simple tasks to do mechanically so i feel more like a person

[rubys-domain]

my guy's been playing his silly little game for four hours straight. not that i have any room to talk considering how much time i spend playing games. but i'm cranky and i want attention

[artificialqueens]

When the World Finally Stops (Biadore) - Tanawrites

SUMMARY - Various moments that ensue after Roy returns home to find Danny has taken refuge at his place for the quarantine.

A/N - details of Bianca being on tour and the stay-at-home order are embellished a little for the story. timeline is a little hazy for the same reason! also I’m not from the US, sorry if anything is desperately wrong and for all my added ‘u’s.

-

The familiar sound of his front door unlocking was music to Roy’s ears. Coming home was always a good feeling after any amount of travel but missing home was for the most part, a small price to pay compared to all the rewards of his career. As more and more tours came about, home wasn’t quite as frequent as he would have liked. Luckily his current tour had him only on the other side of the country, not the other side of the world as the pandemic hit.

Getting home had been a struggle of frantic packing, airports and uncertainty. The constant stream of news playing on the airport televisions, notifications on his phone and watching others in their panic with face masks and hand sanitiser had done nothing for Roy’s anxieties.

He was home now though. Where apparently, he would be staying for a while.

Wheeling the large suitcase behind him, he was idly writing himself a mental checklist. For someone who packed as precisely as he did, unpacking wasn’t a massive task but it was a priority on his list. Call the boarding kennel to organise picking up the dogs as soon as possible was a close second. Write a grocery list. Email his manager to see what all this truly meant for the rest of Bianca’s tour and performing in general. Even amongst all the panic of the past few days since the announcement of a stay-at-home order, the comfort of his home had started to lull him into a sense of normalcy.

It was a small clink from further in the house that drew him out of his thoughts. He frowned and paused where he was still in the entryway, trying to peer closer to where the sound came from.

“Chill! It’s just me.”

Roy felt his body sag in relief. He had heard ‘just me’ enough times after handing over his second hotel room keycard or the spare key to his home to expect exactly who walked out from the kitchen.

Danny.

With a bowl of what Roy perceived to be cereal that was dangerously close to spilling over his expensive rug. Roy eyed how casually Danny’s lanky arms were thrown out towards him, no regard to the milk droplets he was splashing, wearing nothing but a loose tank top and underwear by the looks of it.

As much of a comfort as being home was, seeing Danny felt like Roy could breathe again.

“No, no wait. No hugs yet.”

Roy held a hand out to even further ward Danny off and felt a twinge of remorse for the bluntness when he saw his expression fall. He felt the same way. It had been months too long since they’d seen each other and even though yet again, it was all part of the life they’d chosen, it had been hard.

“Not like that, c’mon pussyface. I’ve just been at the airport with god knows who else and I want to be careful. Let me have a shower and we can catch up.” Roy waited until Danny nodded, sending him a reassuring smile before continuing into the house.

“Don’t bring that in here.” Roy turned around at the doorway of his bedroom to further emphasize that he meant it with a pointed look back to the kitchen. “I’ll take my time so you can try and hide whatever it is that has you looking so guilty.”

His usual cackle carried through to his bathroom as he stored away the guilty, deer-in-headlights expression on Danny’s face deep into his memory to make fun of him later.

-

“Thirty second warning!” Roy called out once he was dried off and dressed again. He tossed his clothes in the hamper, resisting how much he wanted to put them all in the washer immediately. The urge to seek out Danny had already won out against his discomfort before it was even truly a conflict in his mind.

He couldn’t help from conducting a less-than-subtle inspection on the condition of his home as he wandered through the house to find Danny. It was no secret that they were at opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to organisation. His place seemed to be in a mostly decent condition though - the mussed sheets on his bed and the makeshift ashtray on the balcony were to be expected with any visit from Danny.

Roy didn’t have to go far before his eyes were settling on Danny sprawled across the couch and he wasted no time in tucking himself into the space that seemed to be purposely left for him against Danny’s side.

“Missed you.” It was a simple admission, said quietly into the skin of Danny’s neck as Roy settled. They had never really needed all too many words to know exactly what the other was actually trying to say. That’s not to say that he didn’t feel a warmth settle over him when Danny returned the sentiment with a kiss to his head.

Affection felt natural for them, years of friendship and the tight quarters of hotel rooms and tour buses meaning their bodies were drawn to one another and knew exactly how to move around each other. Those years, starting with drunken kisses and later very purposely sober hookups further cemented how important touch was to the both of them. It was as much of a form of communication as talking was for them.

The way they had instinctively curled around each other was enough to settle Roy’s nerves but not enough to satisfy his curiosity.

“What are you doing here, queen? I thought you would have gone to your mom’s place.”

“Too crowded. Like, I love them all but I just know my mom’s probably freaking out with this whole thing going on and I wanted to stay in the city.”

Roy hummed his understanding before tilting his head to meet Danny’s eyes more. “And your apartment? You know, that place you pay rent for every month? Where all your worldly belongings are?”

“Well I didn’t want to be totally alone for the whole stay-at-home order and I figured you’d be home when I got here.”

“How long have you been here?”

Danny looked slightly embarrassed, to Roy’s amusement, as he admitted “A week and a half.”

“You bitch, there wasn’t even a mention of a quarantine then.”

“Ok ok, maybe I just missed your ridiculously comfy mattress and needed a change of scenery for some writing I’ve been trying to do. Why can’t you ever let me get away with anything?”

Roy rolled his eyes as Danny whined. It clearly wasn’t a problem for him that Danny was here - there wouldn’t be a spare key made up for him if it was.

In all honesty, Roy was more relieved to see Danny here than he was to be home in general. It made him feel human to have Danny around and with his anxiety flared from all the uncertainty, he was starting to feel grounded again.

It would only be all that much better when he had Sammy and Dede curled around his feet again as well.

“Crazy times, queen.”

-

After spending the night bringing each other up to speed, far too late into the night for how tired Roy was from travel, he still found himself waking up before Danny.

He untangled their limbs carefully, though he knew he didn’t have to. Danny could and has slept through almost anything, including any alarm he set ever and Michelle Visage banging on their door to let them know he was late to a meet and greet. Always an early riser, despite how often Danny tried to tempt him to stay in bed, Roy barely even jostled the snoring man he left in bed.

As he prepared a pot of coffee, Roy started to write out a list for groceries, knowing Danny wouldn’t be much help in his meal-planning anyway. He had essentially nothing in the pantry or refrigerator - except for an almost empty pizza box, which Roy certainly hadn’t been responsible for. After a peek in the trash can, his suspicions were confirmed. Danny had been purely living off of take-out for the whole time he’d been here.

Roy finished his list and his first mug of coffee without even a stir from the bedroom where he’d left Danny. He poured another mug and set about the rest of his errands before he found himself back in the bedroom. There were probably still a few other things he could do to keep occupied but he’d much rather attempt to wake up the sleeping mermaid in his bed.

Perching on the edge of the mattress, he paused for a moment to watch Danny. His hair was longer than Roy had seen in a while but he was pleased to see that Danny looked good, like he was eating and sleeping enough. Doing all the things Roy usually worried about Danny neglecting in favour of more exciting parts of life. He placed his mug on the bedside table - namely his own bedside table since Danny always rolled onto Roy’s side once he was out of bed, ignoring the way his whole body warmed to the fact.

“Angel, it’s time to wake up.”

Reaching to stroke Danny’s hair, Roy waited until he started to stir. Sometimes it was like pulling teeth to get Danny out of bed, especially if he wasn’t ready to get up yet, which he was rarely before noon.

“Don’t wanna.”

Somewhat expecting that response, Roy kept running his hand through Danny’s hair, eventually feeling him lean into the touch.

“Don’t you want to come to the store with me? Maybe get a vegetable or two into you for the first time in two weeks?”

Danny had apparently woken up enough to grin lazily up at Roy, who rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what joke he was hinting at.

“Shut up, bitch. Get in the shower and get ready to go.”

Roy began to stand but was quickly brought back down again in a move he should have anticipated from Danny. It really had been too long since they’d seen one another, he was getting rusty.

He had more or less been pulled on top of Danny so he relaxed into it, supporting most of his weight but still leaning to rest his forehead against Danny’s.

“Can I help you?”

“Yup.”

The slight tilt forward of Danny’s chin and the cocky grin on his lips was enough of an answer and Roy didn’t hesitate in closing the small gap to press his lips against Danny’s in the first kiss they’d shared since reuniting the night before.

Their physical relationship had never trumped their friendship, never at the forefront of their interactions. It was just something that had developed naturally between them, their closeness resulting in a tantalizing pull that they had eventually given in to. It was at the expense of nothing though, both of them vowing to be honest about their feelings and that their friendship would never suffer. There were no expectations other than clear communication between them and it had been that way for years now. They were in no way exclusive but they always updated each other if there was something or more importantly, someone new on the scene and as much as neither of them were ready to admit, they were a constant for each other. What they always came back to when they needed something more.

It had seemed complicated when they tried, once, to explain it to Courtney but it was the furthest from complicated. It was just how they were.

Roy didn’t realise how much he’d missed it though, how much in this moment he felt like he needed the press of Danny’s lips against his own more than anything else. They’d both been busy, so busy the past few months and it had been hard to match up both of their sparing free time. The last time they’d seen each other was when Roy flew Danny out to where he’d been on tour and had a rare weekend off - a weekend they spent in a luxurious hotel, wrapped up in one another, spending way too much money on room service to avoid the outside world.

Now, nothing in the outside world was even functioning for them to go out even if they wanted to.

Before the kiss could turn into some other kind of reunion, Roy pulled back. He nudged their noses together, in a show of affection few had yet to see from him, to stop Danny’s complaints at the separation.

“I know, I know. Good morning to you too. Now go brush your teeth because if I have to kiss you again with that breath-”

Danny’s lips stopped his joke right in its tracks and despite his warning, Roy made no move to pull away again.

-

Danny felt ridiculous. He’d mostly kept his mouth shut though, after he caught Roy’s eye just before they’d left the house. Roy looked nervous. So Danny had quit the jokes and let Roy put gloves and face masks on the both of them.

It wasn’t until they got to the supermarket that Danny started to understand.

People were panicking.

He’d been reading the news on his phone and keeping up to date on things. That was nothing compared to seeing it unfold in front of him. He had been holed up at Roy’s house for weeks now and hadn’t witnessed any of the panic first hand.

Danny felt a pang of sympathy when he realised how much worse this would have been at an airport and what Roy had obviously gone through the past few days.

With a glance at how white Roy’s knuckles had turned from how tightly he was gripping his shopping list, he could tell Roy was thinking about it too so Danny slipped his hand casually into Roy’s, twining their fingers together.

“So, ice cream aisle first?”

He tossed a grin back at Roy, only half joking. He really did want at least a few tubs of ice cream to take home but mostly, he wanted Roy to smile back at him. It took a second but eventually Roy scoffed.

“Of course you’re thinking about fucking ice cream right now. Is your brain not part chocolate fudge brownie by now?”

And things were back to normal, or as normal as they could be right now, as Danny was pulled through the aisles hand-in-hand with Roy, dutifully holding the basket and pressing up against Roy’s side as he paid.

Danny was kind of known for being the basket case out of the two of them. Always the one who was in a mess or more commonly, was the mess himself who Roy was always there for. It wasn’t as common that Danny got to do the same for Roy, to be the support system or the pillar holding him up. Danny could see the anxiety bubbling just under the surface since Roy had gotten home yesterday and the tiredness that had gathered under Roy’s eyes though and without Roy saying it, Danny felt needed.

They didn’t have to discuss the fact that this trip was going to be a once-off thing. Any other groceries they needed, were going to be delivered from here on out. He also didn’t mention the fact that he watched Roy put three pints of ice cream in their basket when he thought Danny was distracted.

-

“What do you want to do today?”

Roy glanced over the top of his newspaper at Danny, who had draped his whole body across Roy’s legs, dangerously close to dangling off the edge of the couch. They’d already started their day with laying in bed far longer than Roy usually preferred to so he was trying to continue his usual morning routine, catching up on the world over a cup of coffee. The question was unexpected since they hadn’t really planned anything except meals.

“What do you want to do?”

“Bake.”

Roy faltered. He didn’t know what he was expecting to hear but it certainly wasn’t that and it must have shown on his face since Danny was tossing his head back in a laugh only a second later.

“Bake! Not get baked. Well, I mean I would love to but-”

“Yeah, yeah we know. Pipe down, Laganja Estranga.”

“Seriously, I’ve been seeing all this shit about banana bread and fancy ass cakes. I want to bake something.”

“Do you even know how to bake? You don’t really strike me as the Easy Bake oven kind of gal.”

“Well…no. But surely you do! That’s what grandmas do best, isn’t it?”

Roy abandoned his article in favour of rolling up the newspaper to hit Danny with it in retaliation. Before it turned into a full-on war, he sat up a little more and smiled down at Danny, amusement written all over his face.

“Alright, Martha Stewart. Let’s go bake.”

-

His kitchen was a disaster.

Roy took a moment to glance around. There was flour all over the island counter and the iPad Danny had set the recipe up on. The carton of milk was open on the bench, a puddle all around it. Roy had given up early on trying to clean up after Danny because he insisted on Roy being right next to him for every step.

Contrary to what Danny assumed, Roy didn’t know a damn thing about baking. He could cook well enough, sure. But cakes? Not exactly his forte. Not even on a basic level. So it was basically the blind leading the blind as Danny bounced around his kitchen, pulling out more than what Roy thought they actually needed to make a cake.

Standing on his toes to peer over Danny’s shoulder, Roy raised an eyebrow. “I really don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to look.”

It wasn’t the first time Roy had mentioned it but the more they added and stirred into it, the worse it was looking. Danny had defended it a few times, calling it an ���unconventional kind of pretty’ or just mumbling incoherently to himself and going back to the recipe.

This time, Danny slumped back into Roy and sighed.

“Want to go have a shower instead?”

Roy’s hands were already up the back of Danny’s shirt, dragging the material up his chest before Danny was even finished speaking.

-

“Wake up.”

Roy nudged Danny again, sighing as Danny rolled further away from him again, snuggling deeper into the pillow.

“Adore, it’s time to wake up. There’s coffee,” he tempted, avoiding the arm that was flung out towards him to no doubt try and lure him back to bed.

Danny’s grumbling made him snicker but he knew he was fighting a losing battle. Placing the mug of coffee safely out of the danger zone of Danny’s still searching arm, he eventually let himself be pulled back to bed.

Roy didn’t let Danny settle into the little spoon position like he was trying to and instead nudged against Danny’s hip until he rolled onto his back. Settling so that he was straddling Danny’s thighs, Roy let his fingers trace across the soft skin above the waistband of Danny’s thong.

Danny made a low hum but still made no move to open his eyes.

“Come on, you sleepy chola. I want to organise the drag room today.”

Roy watched Danny’s face fall into a displeased pout and rolled his eyes.

“If you get up now, I’ll let you try on stuff as we go along.”

“Anything I want?”

Danny finally opened one eye to peer at Roy, almost like he needed the visual confirmation.

“Within reason.”

“No deal.” Danny turned his head dramatically to the side, his hair falling across most of his face. Roy sighed as he started to gently push it back to see him.

“What are you thinking? Because I’m telling you baby, that season seven finale dress wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. I was washing off glitter for a whole week.”

“Doesn’t matter. Don’t want to anymore.”

“I want you to do it with me. And I need you to reach the stuff on the high shelves.”

Roy wasn’t expecting Danny to sit up suddenly with Roy still in his lap. He quickly grabbed onto Danny’s shoulders to steady himself and raised his eyebrows in question.

“You’re so tiny.” Danny laughed, rubbing his faces into Roy’s chest, arms looping around his waist.

“You’re lucky you look so damn young when you first wake up. Even I can’t be mean to an infant.”

Roy’s actions said it was more so that Danny looked cute when he first woke up with his sleep mussed hair and stupid tired smile as he kept combing his fingers through Danny’s long hair.

“If you rip any of my dresses, I reserve the right to cut up one of your wigs. Though in your case, I might be doing you a favour.”

“Shut up, yanx. Need coffee first.”

-

Roy was running a brush carefully through one of Bianca’s wigs, the last one he had left before they were all neatly aligned on the shelf. He had set Danny up with his jewelry, trusting that he could stick to the usual color coordinated organisation Roy used.

Danny had on one of Bianca’s dresses, one Bianca hadn’t worn in a long time. Getting it on Danny’s frame, when there was no cinched waist and their different heights, was a bit of a struggle that almost ended in a split seam. Not particularly because the dress was too small but mostly that they were both laughing so much through the process.

It was worth it in the end though because for the last hour, every time Roy glanced over to check Danny’s progress and caught sight of his concentrated stare, he started cackling again. There wasn’t a trace of make-up on Danny’s face, his hair was still messily skewed from sleep, and the dress was so out of place with his bare feet and casual slouch over the desk, which all added to the illusion.

The dress was far from Adore’s usual style but it was the closest Bianca had in her closet. Danny still looked great in it, which Roy had told him at least twice already.

“You miss getting into drag?”

Placing the last wig onto the mannequin and sliding it in place, Roy spun his chair to face Danny. Neither of them had been in drag since Roy had come home, for weeks now.

It had been years of painting Bianca’s face almost every day. Whether it was five times a week for shows in clubs or later, to sold out tours.

It was the longest in a long time that he hadn’t been Bianca and he was curious if Danny was feeling the same reminiscence.

“Yeah, Adore always has so much fun.”

Danny pouted and Roy met it with a scoff but he was relieved to hear that he wasn’t alone in his feelings. He should probably be more grateful for the time off - it was no secret he was getting older so travelling constantly for tours was hard and makeup was harsher and harsher on his skin. Bianca came alive on stage though, releasing a part of Roy that loved to perform. For himself, for the crowd.

There was such a stark contrast between his drag and Danny’s but they shared that same love of performing, the freedom of being on a stage with a microphone in their hands.

“I’m only telling you this because I know you’ll never be able to prove it even if you do blab but I don’t even really miss the insults or the jokes that much. I do a little because it’s getting old having to think of new material for you but mostly…I miss seeing Bianca’s face.”

Turning back slightly to look at his reflection, Roy sighed. He noticed his age taking its toll on his face. The laugh lines that had deepened in the last few years and the new wrinkles in his forehead. It was all things he never noticed as Bianca, just how dramatic her eye makeup was and if her wig was straight.

“Jesus Christ, it turns out everyone was right. The quarantine is making people go insane.”

It wasn’t a good joke but it was an attempt to lighten the mood from where the conversation had gone, from where his thoughts had taken him. He heard the jewelry drawers close and the wheels of the chair as Danny rolled to a stop just behind him. It was obvious Danny had seen right through the joke and heard the truth in Roy’s voice, read the expression on his face.

“Why don’t we then?” Danny asked, closing the last drawer of jewelry and rolling his chair over to Roy’s, bumping them together and peering over his shoulder to meet his gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

“Why don’t we what? Get institutionalised together?”

“No. Get into drag!”

Turning to fully face Danny, Roy raised an eyebrow at him. Danny barely took note of it though, already having made up his mind that this was happening.

“Party,” Roy drawled out sarcastically, though it was an underlying agreement to Danny’s offer. Danny laughed and kissed Roy’s cheek before he was running off - as well as he could in Bianca’s form fitting long dress, supposedly to get his suitcase from Roy’s bedroom.

-

An hour and a half later and the drag room wasn’t in quite as good shape as it was intended to be after spending the better portion of the day organising it.

But there they both were - Bianca and Adore. Adore had forgone Bianca’s dress in favour of a tight short skirt that Bianca had no idea how she could be comfortable in, while Bianca slipped familiarly into one of her favourite dresses.

Now they stood next to each other in front of the full-length mirror after putting on their final touches and Bianca snapped. She started laughing, a chuckle she tried to stifle at the start but eventually succumbed to her usual cackle.

“What? I even brushed out my wig.” Adore looked confused, watching as Bianca came unravelled.

“We…we just got fully into drag. I cinched your waist and we’re wearing heels and I tucked….and…we’re not going anywhere!” Bianca’s explanation came out between fits of laughing.

“Fuck willow, I thought you could see my dick out of the bottom of my skirt or something.”

It had been Adore’s idea but it came from Bianca’s want so they were both to blame. In the middle of a quarantine, with nowhere to go and no one to see, two grown men got fully made up into their best absolute best drag. It was utterly ridiculous to her and she was shaking her head against Adore’s shoulder as she tried to contain herself.

Adore had started to giggle along herself though and eventually, they were leaning into each other.

“Come on B, surely this is an excuse to break out your rich lady wine. We can’t go out but it can still be a party.”

Accepting that the quarantine had absolutely gotten to their heads, Bianca agreed with Adore and pulled them both along to the kitchen.

-

“I can’t believe they let her get away with this shit. Hello bitch, we’re on the fifth challenge here!”

Adore was covering her mouth to stifle her laughter as she listened to Bianca’s commentary. Neither of them knew how they had ended up here but somewhere between the first and third bottle of wine, they’d come up with the idea of watching their season premiere. That was nearly six episodes ago and they were still sitting on Bianca’s couch, both their shoes long since abandoned and kicked away, their bare feet on the coffee table.

Sober Roy would be mad at their mess but drunk Bianca had long since given up her inhibitions. That’s when the commentary came in. If Adore didn’t know better, she would be recording it. The reads were some of Bianca’s best work and had her in fits of giggles, tucked into Bianca’s side.

“I’m surprised they didn’t just make us the top three right here. God, it’s barely even a competition at this point.”

“Shut up, you love all those bitches.”

Bianca glanced to Adore, clearly ready to argue but softened once she caught the way Adore had turned to look at her. She had relaxed into the back of the couch, head turned sideways to look up at Bianca. The buzz of the wine had gotten to Adore but not in a way that made her want to dance on the table, rather in the way to sit back and enjoy tingles that were running across her body.

Letting herself relax enough to mirror Adore’s position, Bianca tilted her head towards Adore’s.

“You’re my favourite though. Don’t tell Court.”

“She totally already knows it. All those times she found me in your bunk on the tour or when she had to share a hotel room with Darienne because we were always together.”

Both of them grinning fondly at the memories, Bianca lifted her mostly empty wine glass up and waited until Adore did the same.

“Happy quarantine, Adore.”

“Cheers to that, Bianca.”

-

“Want to trade-”

“No.”

“Why, yanx? I’ll give you more money than it’s worth!”

“And this is why our world’s economy is shot. Your generation is in charge of it now.”

Roy shook his head, continuing to glare at the board, deep in thought like he had been for nearly five minutes now.

Danny has all but given up hopes for finishing their game and was lying on his stomach to pat Sammy and Dede while Roy was deliberating.

It had been Danny’s idea to endure their hangovers with a board game, found deep in Roy’s closet. After teasing Roy about how this edition of monopoly surely came out before he was even born, they set it up on the coffee table. It had started out as harmless, mindless fun but Roy was competitive and all his moves were thought out and calculated, which put him further ahead in the game than Danny who seemed to have a mere twenty-five dollars left.

“You have to be cheating.”

“You’re the banker. There’s no way for me to cheat when you control all the money!”

“Well then the game is rigged.”

“Or you’re just a sore loser.”

Danny made a grunt of complaint but didn’t say anymore. Roy finally took his turn, putting another hotel on one of his properties and pushing the dice towards Danny.

Sitting up to roll the dice, Danny rolled and started to move the small silver tophat. He groaned loudly as he came to a stop on one of Roy’s properties. The one he had just upgraded with a hotel. Danny covered his face, groaning as Roy cackled in glee.

“Alright, come on.”

Danny stood up with a huff, turning towards the bedroom.

“What? We’re right in the middle of the game.”

“Yeah, I know. Come on, I have to clear my debt and then beat your ass.”

“Clear your debt? You’re not gonna find any Monopoly money in there.”

“Nope, I’m gonna suck your dick and we’ll be square.”

Danny’s bluntness nearly had Roy’s jaw on the floor. Lucky he had years as a performer meant that his facial expressions were trained and he quickly got a hold of himself.

“It’s just a game, queen. We don’t have to keep playing-”

“I want to.”

Every time they were intimate, Roy always wanted to make sure Danny was sure. That what they were doing was mutual and positive for both of them. Years behind them had made him more confident in initiating, whereas at the start he left it all to Danny. That had led to problems in itself and it began clear to him that Danny wanted to feel wanted as well.

He didn’t need anymore confirmation before he was following but it was Roy who was pressing Danny down into the sheets, his lips mapping their way down the dip of Danny’s hip.

-

Days later, inspiration had struck Roy the night before and he got out his sketchbook. The next morning, he didn’t disturb Danny as he took solace in the drag room. His sketches were pinned up where he could glance up at them as he ran material through the sewing machine. He was lost in thoughts of pins and thread, so much so that he didn’t take note of Danny pushing open the door until he felt the weight of Danny’s head laying against his shoulder.

“Whatcha making?”

“A dress.”

Danny breathed out a laugh. Roy was just happy that years of his dry, harsh humour was still enough to warrant a laugh from Danny. He didn’t mean to be blunt though so he continued.

“I don’t really know what it’s for but it’s been a while since I’ve made anything.”

It’s been a long time since Roy had been home long enough to sketch out and then craft an entire dress is what he meant and Danny read through the lines.

“It’s pretty.”

Danny looked up at the sketch of what Roy was making, remembering the few times they’d tried to teach Danny how to use the sewing machine, especially right before he was set to return to the competition for All Stars. It had never gone well, with Danny usually ending up frustrated at himself, despite Roy’s seemingly endless patience.

“Do you mind if I come in here to write?”

Neither of them had been doing anything exactly productive. The past few weeks had been all lazy days of movies on the couch, cuddling  and playing with the dogs and then catching up on the newest season of Drag Race. Danny hadn’t been writing any music and Roy was left in his own limbo because while the lockdown laws were in place, his tour was cancelled until further notice.

It was a welcome surprise to hear that Danny seemed to be inspired or at least motivated enough to try to be. Roy took his foot off the pedal and turned back just enough to kiss the top of Danny’s head.

“Yeah, baby.”

-

Hours later, Roy had a mostly finished dress on his mannequin and Danny was still humming under his breath, tapping a pen against his notebook to a rhythm only he could imagine.

Roy was on his knees to put the finishing touches on the hem of the dress when Danny made a sudden noise of revelation.

“I’ve done it! I finally finished this fucking song.”

Danny dropped the notebook dramatically to the floor but the smile on his face was contagious. Roy let his hands fall to his lap as his attention shifted.

“Yeah? That’s great, bitch. You going to sing it for me?”

Embarrassment flushed Danny’s cheeks and he began to look more nervous than relieved. He shook his head.

“No. This won’t even be the finished product on the album after I record it.”

“So? I wanna hear it exactly the way you wrote it.”

Danny started to tuck his chin and Roy pushed up to his feet, closing the distance between them. He tucked a finger under Danny’s jaw to coax his gaze up.

“I’m not going to force you or anything but everything you were humming before sounded really great.”

Roy had always been full of praise for Danny. He was the first to offer constructive criticism when needed but he had come to respect everything Danny produced. It wasn’t the same as his own art, their drags were polar opposite and their outlets were as well. He knew that Adore didn’t look nearly as polished as some of the other drag queens in their circle but there was reason and purpose behind them and moreso, passion. Roy saw Danny’s passion shining through everything he did, as himself or Adore. That’s what changed his mind about Adore during their season and something he still loved most about Danny to this day.

“Ok but only so that you know what song is about you when you listen to the album and plug it on all your socials.”

“Wait, it’s about me?”

Despite Danny’s response trying to feign some confidence, he turned red again. He didn’t try to break their eye contact again though as he shrugged at Roy.

“Yeah, kinda. Some parts of it, for sure. You were totally my muse today, watching you concentrate so hard and work on something that you could have paid someone else to do. You’re a fierce ass bitch and I love you.”

Not expecting the long-winded answer, Roy let it sink in before he responded.

“I love you too.”

It wasn’t often that Roy wasn’t quick witted or responding with his usual sharp tongue. There were moments for it though and he could read Danny enough to know he was feeling vulnerable with the confession so this definitely wasn’t the time.

He sunk onto the floor where Danny had sat most of the day, alternating between laying on his stomach or his back or sitting in other positions that Roy wanted to make a snip about their age difference about. His old man bones still allowed him to bend his knees enough to sit cross-legged in front of Danny. When they were at the same eye level, he smiled at Danny and took his hand to play idly with his fingers.

“And when this next album comes out, you come over again and I’ll make you anything you want to wear for the first time you perform it. Promise to even cut up the shirt for your aesthetic.”

Spoken with none of his usual bite, Roy softened his voice as much as he could. The gravelly tone couldn’t be helped - thanks God, but he had practically melted at Danny’s feet at this point. It was the biggest compliment he’d gotten, some of Danny’s art, the closest and most precious thing to his heart and he’d let Roy into it.

“Thanks, B. You’re the best willow.”

Roy accepted the embrace as soon as Danny started to lean into it, wrapping up Danny in a tight hug, their cheeks pressed against each other.

They sat like that for a long time, holding each other on the floor. It was a moment Roy didn’t want to end, despite the twinge he was starting to feel low in his back from the way he was leaning or how cold the floor was on his bare legs. None of that mattered for right now. Not while they were embraced like this, speaking volumes with the intimacy they were sharing. Eventually, when Roy didn’t feel like breaking the silence between them would shatter the moment, he cleared his throat.

“Come on, I’m about to need a hip replacement if we stay like this any longer and I want to hear this song of yours.”

-

Unfortunately, the little bubble they had been in was eventually burst. Roy had gotten a few emails about live streams and videos, apparently posting on social media once every few days wasn’t enough and he had to get back to work. From his garage. He couldn’t think of anything worse.

He’d have his fellow queens to bounce off but that was nothing compared to audience interaction or a crowd he could read.

Still, he painted his face into Bianca and put on a flowy tunic top but in a show of rebellion that no one but he and Danny knew about, refused to wear anything other than sweats and his slippers on his lower half as Bianca sat down. Danny watched from the doorway, off the view of the camera, smiling at Bianca over a mug of coffee as the timer counted down and then she was live.

It was easy enough to settle into Bianca again, especially with Lady Bunny to banter with but this felt weird. Bianca was acutely aware that Danny was watching, listening to the audio from the other queens but Danny’s watchful eyes aren’t what had Bianca uncomfortable.

As soon as it was over, Roy texted his manager to let him know Bianca wouldn’t be doing anything else like this, if he could avoid it. He missed being Bianca but not like this. Roy didn’t blame the other queens he saw posting these videos, he didn’t judge Danny for the short video he made of Adore singing for the digital DragCon. It just didn’t feel like performing to him but he knew people still needed to make a living. He was just thankful that at this point in his career, he wasn’t stressed about that just yet.

When Danny approached him, reaching under the top of Bianca’s shirt to start rubbing Roy’s shoulders, he finally started to relax again. Knowing he didn’t have to explain the tension that was there, he simply sighed and leaned back into Danny. This was the first time he wished that this was all over, that things could go back to normal in the world.

-

The next night, after they had retreated to the bedroom for the night and they were both lying in bed, scrolling on their respective screens, Roy sighed. He put his phone down and turned to lay on his side, waiting till Danny mimicked the actions and their legs were laced together.

His mind was circling and had been since the filming yesterday. He was tired. Tired of the traveling and Bianca’s shows night after night. He still had a passion for performing but he worked hard, harder than almost anybody he knew but it was taking its toll on him and yesterday had proved it to him. He could barely bring himself to set up a video camera to be Bianca. It hadn’t come from a place of not wanting to be her anymore but an exhaustion. This lockdown had been a break, despite how much he missed Bianca but it hadn’t been enough just yet.

“The best thing about this whole lockdown has been having you here, you know.”

“Yeah, imagine all the crazy lady cleaning you’d be doing every day if I weren’t here.”

“I meant it, Danny.”

At the sound of his name, the rarest thing to ever come from Roy’s mouth which was a habit grown from spending so much time together as their drag personas, Danny grew as serious as Roy clearly was.

“I know, I mean it too. You’ve kept me from going totally crazy or off the rails in all this and I really missed you before it all happened.”

“Me too, queen. I want to go back to work really badly but I want this even more.”

Roy squeezed them impossibly closer, as if Danny could really confuse what he meant by this. He was fighting all his natural urges to zip his mouth up and stop talking by reminding himself that this was Danny. Someone who had never undermined Roy’s thoughts or made him feel bad for something he was feeling, especially when it was from a place of vulnerability.

“I do too, yanx. I promise, even when all this is over, we’ll be better. We’ll make more time for each other again.”

Danny emphasised his point by pressing his forehead to Roy’s, meeting him halfway onto the pillow they were sharing.

“I wish we’d never stopped.”

“Work sucks, hey? Sometimes I wish we were on Drag Race again and just down the hall from each other in a hotel or in the same tour bus.”

Roy nodded his agreement but he was satisfied by the fact that Danny felt the same way, his anxieties about what would happen with them again after this was all over and Danny went home momentarily quelled. It was a classic Roy move to panic over something that wasn’t even in the works of happening yet but Danny knew him well enough to know how to deal with it by now. Closing his eyes and finally feeling content again, Roy was happy to let the conversation come to an end but Danny spoke again.

“We’re going to be here for at least another month here though, at least that’s what everyone’s saying. So we still get to have the best Bianca and Adore staycation ever. We have Sammy and Dede and so much of your rich lady wine, plus no shows to rush across the world to do or albums to record-���

Roy cut Danny off with a kiss. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hear it, just that it was the best thing he’d heard. He couldn’t help himself from closing the distance between them, his hands fisting in Danny’s tank top.

“Just you and me?”

Roy barely recognised his own voice, small and full of a humility that he or Bianca never usually possessed. It faded into a quiet but strong feeling of confidence as Danny confirmed,

“Just you and me.”

-

[uberrapidash]

Okay I am having so much anxiety over starting my solo music stuff it is RIDICULOUS so I guess I’m gonna have a journal psychoanalysis session type thing like I keep thinking of doing, finally

I am SO BEHIND in my solo rep. I NEED to get this shit done. It is SUPER IMPORTANT. It should be THE MOST IMPORTANT part of my college work, but I keep doing LITERALLY EVERYTHING ELSE before I start working on my singing stuff, and it’s REALLY BAD. 

I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack, it’s so bad. Like, right now. I keep inching closer and closer to starting to get some work done, but every time I think about getting started, I get a huge rush of anxiety.

WHY.

#1 - Maybe it’s because it’s so abstract? Maybe it’s because there’s no concrete way to go about it and to measure it. It’s not like, “answer these questions.” I can’t even really set up a routine for myself where I sing the exact same warmups and vocalizes daily because my vocalizing needs will be constantly changing and evolving, often on a daily basis. I mean, I guess I could do that--it would definitely be better than the whole-lotta-nothing that I’m doing now.  Possible solution?: Create a routine/method/protocol for the stuff that is concrete. A checklist, maybe. “Research,” “Artistry worksheet,” “IPA,” “translation,” maybe daily listenings where I listen to a different singer every day--I could set that up in a Google Doc ahead of time. I sorta already have this kind of thing, but it’s not easily accessible and it’s not neat, because it’s just a handout from the professor. It’s not easy to look at, it’s not succinct. I could make a better one. Then maybe if I have a concrete “section” of stuff like this, it’ll be waaaaay easier to knock it off a task list because it’s no longer a part of one big blob of an abstract project, and it would separate the more scholarly part from the more abstract/artisty part.

#2 - Maybe it’s because I’m afraid I’m doing it wrong? Actually, I’m already pretty sure this is a big issue. Practicing isn’t something that I can easily compare with other people. Practicing takes place privately, usually. For most singers, practicing and learning music is a highly vulnerable act. And, the ways that people practice could be highly variable. I have tried many, many times to ask my voice teachers (I’ve only had two so far) if they could tell me how to practice. I never get a satisfactory answer. My current teacher has helped more than anyone else, so far, but it’s still not... concrete enough. She can’t tell me “do this specific vocalize for this long at this tempo,” for example, because some days I might not need as much warming up, or I might not need work on that technical area at the moment, or I’m vocally fatigued and I need to do something different. Singing is soooo variable. Anyway, the point is, I can’t “get instructions” by watching other people practice because 1) it’s private, and/or 2) it’s so variable. And for these same reasons, I can’t compare what I’m doing with what other people are doing. It’s just not reasonable, and it’s hardly even plausible. But why is this such an issue for me? Is this an autism or ADHD thing? I feel like it kinda goes along with the issue that some people with ADHD have if instructions aren’t clear enough. I think there’s also a big low-self-esteem component in this for me. Possible solution?: Easier said than done, but if I could just STOP measuring my success and worth by comparing myself to other people, even subconsciously, I think that would help a ton. This, of course, is not something I can just fix. This is a long-term self-improvement project, probably involving more unraveling of subconscious beliefs/morals/values wrongly instilled in me by toxic family members and religion. A lot of this issue might stem from CPTSD?

#3 - I care what Aaron thinks about me. This is more clearly one of the reasons I am struggling. Because of the pandemic, I can no longer go up to the campus and use a practice room--I have to do this at home. I know Aaron isn’t judging me. I know Aaron thinks highly of my singing. But he was in college for vocal performance at a prestigious conservatory. If he wasn’t a singer, I wouldn’t be having this issue. This one is tied to #2, for sure. This is a self-confidence issue, too. This one can possibly lead to other questions: Am I afraid he will think less of me if I don’t meet his standards? I don’t think so. Am I ashamed that if I am nervous to share something so vulnerable as practice then that means I am not intimate enough with him, and therefore I’m somehow letting him down? Like, I’m ashamed of my anxiety over tearing down this wall? I do feel like I should be able to practice unashamedly around him. I shouldn’t be embarrassed. I really don’t know why I’m so nervous to sing around him, other than that I think highly of him and what he thinks. But is it really that simple? Possible solution?: It’s been recommended to me that I get him to sing with me to help with this, but we haven’t done that yet. Other than that idea, all I can think is to just “get over it.” ...Not really helpful.

#4 - It’s physically demanding. Sometimes I can practice for an hour, but sometimes I need a break after 15 minutes. And I don’t always know ahead of time how it’s going to feel. My relationship with my body is mostly “hate” right now, and I know that’s detrimental to my well-being. It’s hard to love and accept my body when it feels like my biggest obstacle. I’m always tired, and I’m so tired of being tired.  Possible solution?: Redefine my idea of success. My professor is willing to work with me by not expecting my practice to look the same as others’, and by not expecting me to practice as much--so why can’t I be willing to work with me? I talked to another student (who has a different teacher) that has physical health problems and asked what they do when they can’t sing, and they said they have alternatives like lying in bed and working on memorizing the text, just doing breathing exercises along with the music, etc. Why am I not opening myself up to possibilities of “practice” such as these? Maybe I should write a list of “possible ways to practice,” “productive options,” or something, and if I hit a wall I could just look at the list and pick one. 

Okay, this was a major procrastination thing, but I also think it was needed. It feels really good to get all this out and really think about this. I’m gonna... go... try... to work... now... Wish me luck.

EDIT:

GOD this is like PULLING TEETH

Every tiny little step of the way, I become paralyzed with anxiety. It’s nauseating. I’m literally dissociating every chance my brain gets. My eyes keep going out of focus. I keep getting dizzy, light-headed. Waves of nausea. Periods where I’m shaking. All I’m trying to do right now is to get organized. But I’m terrified. I’m just terrified. I don’t know why.

EDIT2:

It’s the next day now and I literally feel sick to my stomach and start shaking whenever I think about singing. What the fuck. What the actual fuck. Like, can’t breathe, vision goes dark, I get dizzy, I shake, I feel like I’m going to vomit. 

[cllynchauthor]

Autism, Autopilot, and a Ham Sandwich

One of the hard parts about describing autistic experience is that if you are #actuallyautistic you’ve never been any other way.

My life has been a series of “wait, is that not a universal experience?” moments. But I’m sure there are lots of underlying assumptions that never ever get identified as fundamental differences.

Here’s something that I think may be a big one:

I was thinking about how everyone sometimes goes on “autopilot”.

Like you realize you took the turn toward work even though it’s Saturday and you were going to the mall. It’s aggravating and I think most folk actively try to avoid it.

But a lot of our daily life relies on an “autopilot” type sequence.

Most of us don’t THINK about how to walk. We just walk. We walk and breathe and our heart beats and we get dressed and eat and live life and the movements are smooth, automated, unconscious.

Well, certain things never went on autopilot for me.

Where someone might see “preparing lunch” I see a massive list of individual tasks.

Get out plate.

Get out bread.

Find knife.

Find spread

etc.

Each of those minor things is onerous and requires thought and concentration. Ditto for getting dressed. Buying groceries. Getting the kids ready for school.

And I don’t think this is a universal experience.

I’m not saying that I think everyone else drifts through life effortlessly dressing their kids and preparing lunches without thought. Obviously that’s ridiculous.

But I do know that a lot of the things I find overwhelmingly challenging seem minor to other people.

I once complained about life having too many “moving parts” and my husband gently pointed out that I tend to see ten “moving parts” where he sees only one.

So if you are like me and “get up and get ready for the day” is actually a 40-item checklist, then “autopilot” is a kind of bliss to be achieved, not a hazardous nuisance to be avoided.

If my experience is similar to those of other #ActuallyAutisic people, then I think this helps explain our strong love of routine and repetition.

After all, “autopilot” is born from routine, right? If you drive to work the same way every day then you just get used to turning left at the intersection and one day you do it by accident when you meant to be going elsewhere.

Like, it took me a long time to get comfortable driving.

But after many years of practise, the overwhelming mental list of “check rearview mirror, check speed, check blind spot, check road signs, check what lane you are in, figure out what lane you SHOULD be in...” just became... driving. It’s fluid. Simple. And if I know where I’m going, I can get there without even thinking about it.

But that took so many many years of driving every damn day.

A lot of other things in my life have never become effortless.

But if I could do everything the exact same way every single day... if all the steps were carefully checked and always went in the same sequence... then I might be able to glide through a task without feeling like I’m juggling forty balls in the air.

And maybe NTs don’t have this struggle and don’t need things to be predictable and repetitive just so they can stop stressing over every step to making a damn ham sandwich.

And maybe they don’t realize how challenging and complicated these small tasks are for me because they take that level of autopilot for granted.

Maybe most people just... go make themselves a sandwich.

Maybe they don’t dither in the kitchen trying to figure out where to put the bread slices and then realize they forgot to take out the plate first.

Maybe other autistic people don’t either and it’s just me.

But maybe, just maybe, this is a fundamental difference that we don’t even know we have.

And maybe when people see me and hear me saying that I’m autistic all they think about is eye contact and wonder what the big deal is.

And they don’t see me struggling because all they see is a grown ass woman making herself a sandwich.

I don’t LOOK autistic. Right?

But if they could look in my head, would it seem normal to them?

... Or maybe NTs DO find making a sandwich or dressing kids in the morning to be just as stressful and complicated and they just suck it up better. Who knows.

I will never be them and they will never be me.

But if someone wanted to know why autistic people love routine so much... well... this would be my guess.

Because if I made myself the same sandwich the same way every single day... then one day I could just stand up and, without having to really think about it, just... make myself a sandwich.

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, ROGUE! You’ve been accepted for the role of HAMLET. Admin Sidney: I’m so happy to finally say that we have a Hamlet! We’ve waited so long for someone to truly understand and grasp that softness that lies so deep within such a troubled soul such as he. But what caught my eye most was your plans for his future, for the downfall and the paranoia, for the true test to what perhaps is the most valuable currency within Verona: loyalty. Such an outstanding application, and I can’t wait to see him on the dash!  Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Rogue.

Age | 21.

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her.

Activity Level | Fairly active! I try not to leave replies too long, and keep threads moving forward. I sometimes have to leave them 2-3 days but I’m good about asking for hiatus when I need it.

Timezone | PST.

In Character

Character | Henry Zhang, also known as Hamlet.

What drew you to this character? | Hamlet is one of my favorite plays, and it’s one of the first I ever did in theater, too, so it has a soft spot for me. I have always found it interesting to dissect and disassemble Hamlet’s character, because there are so many interpretations for his actions. In the case of Henry, his addiction is an interesting layer, and one that I really want to explore. I like smart characters, the ones whose minds work too fast for even them to follow, and it would be very fun to play a character who is slowly unraveling. I also admit that I’m drawn to a drama queen. I like characters that push people out of their comfort zone, characters who have power and enjoy that power, or at the very least are hungry for more.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | ✘ — Henry seems like he’s on his way to rock bottom, in a free-fall that he knows has an end point, but there’s nothing he can do to stop himself from crashing into the earth. What is it like when an angel of war has fallen? How does that change you? In the moment, exhilaration, and in the end only pain. I want to push him on that journey, that slow descent into isolation and paranoia that comes with being an addict and refusing to believe that you are. I want to watch him fall, watch him burn, and push him to rise again, different but no more whole than when he began. Break him and make him anew, but with the old parts still present.

✘ — Adding to the list of reasons for Henry to be paranoid, he strongly believes that someone within the Montagues may be responsible for his father’s death. I would love to test his loyalty; he’s felt strongly connected to the Montagues his whole life, certain that they are his people, people he can rely on. How does this affect his closest relationships, particularly with people like Roman and Hector? Does he reach out to any neutral, or even worse, Capulet assistance in his investigation? On the other hand, does his paranoia tarnish his reputation among the Montagues? Do people begin to think he’s gone mad? Perhaps he has, or maybe, they decide, that’s what he wants them to think. I love exploring the machinations, the inner workings of this complex and, to a certain degree, broken machine.

✘ — It would be fun to assist Odessa. That’s what they all want, isn’t it? To get to the bottom of who murdered Alvise? Henry has greater motivation than most, seeing the mirror of his own situation in the Vernon family’s tragedy. It would be cool to see him attempt to push Odessa in interesting directions, perhaps even to become suspicious of her own family, as he has grown suspicious of his. How much projecting will Henry do on his quest to help her, and will it prevent him from helping at all? Or will involving himself in this investigation more thoroughly allow him the distance he needs to look at his own Father’s murder with fresh eyes?

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Kill me baby. In the excellent words of Emily Horne, Henry says, “Judge if you want. We are all going to die. I intend to deserve it.”

In Depth

♜ — What is your favorite place in Verona? Henry taps his fingers against the glass of the coffee table before him, staring through it as if it has the world’s answers hidden underneath. In a sudden movement, he draws one finger up into the air, as though he’s had just the greatest idea. ❝ Twelfth Night, has to be! Culture and all that. ❞ For a moment, it seems as though he’s finished, but he barrels on once more, indecision furrowing his brow. ❝ No, no, sicuramente no. Who can beat the view from the Castelvecchio? That’s the one. ❞ It almost seems as though he can’t pause, even to breathe, desperate to convince you that these are all, simultaneously, the only definitive answer. ❝Though I do love the tower, perhaps that’s the best view… It’s really not a very good question, is it? ❞ Henry crosses his arms, slightly annoyed, now. ❝ Really quite subjective. I do hope the others will be based in fact. I’m a busy man, and this is taking up valuable time. ❞

♟ — What does your typical day look like? Leaned back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other, he begins to look every inch the prince he’s been described as. It shouldn’t be possible to look refined and cool in a turquoise Gucci suit, but that’s exactly how he comes across; every inch of him lets you know that his time is money, and every second spent here answering boring questions is time he could be spending on moving assets or ascertaining something of worth. Though Henry has humored you with his first answer, this one is shorter, clipped and irritated. His fingers tap against the armrest this time, and the beat is faster, the tempo staccato and tinged with violence. ❝ Wake late, head to my office, try not to bang my head against the wall when I find 20 new problems have cropped up in my incredibly short absence. ❞ His smile is not a happy thing, merely a flash of teeth that imitates politeness in a predatory manner. ❝ Fix it all before whatever dinner meeting I have planned, charm my way through the city, and repeat. ❞ He doesn’t mention how many times he refills his flask, or how many of his father’s network he’s had to add to his suspect list, or the properties he’s sold and traded to get the information he needs, let alone the amount of times he’s had to scream at people lately over the loss of product thanks to this ridiculous storm. A prince must never get his hands dirty, not where the world can see them, but a captain must wade through the muck when necessary. What rules must he follow, to be both?

♚ — What has been your biggest mistake so far? Lying with body language was one of his earliest lessons. Rather than tensing at the question, he lets his head fall back in a loose, breathless laugh. Biggest mistake. As if categorizing his fuck-ups in order of importance is so simple. Several moments pop sharply into his mind — his first time breaking into his father’s whiskey cabinet, not asking his father what he was working on before he died, not telling his mother how much he disliked Cristian before his father died, not standing up to Damiano for Rome when it counted — and none of them are permitted past his lips. Instead, he shakes his head, looking you in the eye and daring you to challenge his answer: ❝ Waking up too late for espresso this morning. If I’d known you’d make this so irksome, I would’ve set more alarms. ❞

♛ — What has been the most difficult task asked of you? Once again, there’s no way he’ll give the response. He thinks of his hands balled into fists at his sides, standing next to the man he was 75% sure killed his father on the day of his funeral and watching his face twist into a macabre facsimile of grief that ill-suited Cristian’s smug face. He knows better than to strike out or even to make an accusation without solid proof, his head too logical for that, but even remembering the expression in Cristian’s eyes at his father’s funeral makes Henry want to bare his teeth and snarl. Instead, he merely shrugs, glancing at the walls as if they provide more interest than whatever you mean to accomplish. ❝With responsibility, difficult tasks are asked of you each day. If I listed them all, it would bore us both to tears, and I’ve made many a vow not to be boring. ❞

♜ — What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and Montagues? Once, he would’ve had a thousand thoughts on his mind about this very subject, all at once. Not that he would share his strategies, but he at least could’ve taken his pick of excuses. Lately, the war has not occupied his thoughts as much as it should, though he remains devoted to his duties. If those duties have shifted, expanded, can he be blamed? ❝ As you must know, my father respected Damiano Montague greatly, just as I do. ❞ This is the response he must give, expected as much as it is true, though it’s Roman who holds his respect over Damiano these days. ❝ There are great players on all sides, but I’m sure you know this as well: I’m an intelligent man. ❞ Henry leans forward a moment, almost conspiratorial. ❝ Do you really think I’d pick the losing side? ❞

[driscollroman3-blog]

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Celebrity Wars: The Force Unleashed II is a third-person action-adventure headline which possesses players have control of a duplicate of Starkiller, the anti-hero lead character from the authentic Force Discharged activity. Happy face is a young boy that is undergoing problems in life as well as encounters all of them through using a mask. Lego Marvel (FRAMEWORK Streaming) takes the Wonder Comic books world and also places it into an exciting action game. Monroe sang her model from pleased birthday in her trademark hues facing 15,000 guests at an Autonomous fundraiser at The big apple's Madison Square Yard. The NES Standard Mini happen pre-loaded with 30 timeless NES games featuring Super Mario Bros and also Donkey Kong Jr. Because of its own pre-installed games, when your giftee opens this on X-mas morning they could connect this right into their TELEVISION and begin playing instantly. The video game is actually an excellent option for smaller sized kids that might yearn for some monitor opportunity however typically aren't ready for a more intricate adventure. In the stepping in years, Illiger has actually remained to update the game and also keep, and it's stays a precious favourite for its own attractive environment and efficient gameplay - a very early example from ways to create a mobile phone video game ideal. Retina-searing fine art design aside, the video game believes that a slam-dunk for any type of follower from timeless platformers. One of our favored components of PlayStation Virtual Reality is actually merely how many other categories of games this has. Arranging birthday party notification is effortless: select the 'Write Information' tab and also you will be rerouted to a page where you may write your birthday celebration notifications. This's clear you'll never find Nintendo activities on iOS, yet PicoPicoGames is actually the second best point: a collection of tiny, addicting NES-like minigames. All your interactions with this game are actually with clicking and also dragging, so this works merely great on a Chromebook. Fantastic Britain get in a staff for the video games which is made up from sportsmens from England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland but throughout guide it is mentioning the England volleyball crew as well as other such rubbish. Directing cabling in the real world provides madness, and so this might not be actually the most intelligent operation making in to an activity played on an unit with a glass display. This's certainly not just what I expected from an author that formulated the rather one-of-a-kind suggestion of the NPCs in computer game being actually active as well as real individuals embeded storage tanks from goo. There were actually absolutely no happy individuals within this publication apart from one, as well as they placed him in a psychological establishment. The small grab is actually a hexagon sits at the top, and also the 2nd this comes under deep space, your game mores than. By comparison, in a problem game time works like an egg cooking timer: fracture a degree just before your patience ends and the timer is flipped; your store of persistence is renewed. Enjoying popular music demands that individuals open up the media gamer or Groove Music application and also pop this sideways from their monitor along with their game. The Hunger Games is high quality YA, smartly created, and also despite its own imperfections this's worthy of effectiveness. This brings in the listing due to the fact that is one of the best addicting and also straightforward games you'll obtain your practical. I kept viewing The Despising Activity on my Twitter, Instagram, and also Goodreads timetable as well as because that is actually been actually collecting higher scores, certainly my inquisitiveness was piqued. Does Not Commute is actually a clever activity that incorporates driving and challenge aspects to offer you along with a suspenseful as well as unique experience. I specifically suched as the opening stock, which provided a concrete capability test surrounding activities like deciding on a word that ought to be actually gotten rid of off a paragraph or testing your callback after reviewing an extract. Quite potentially the most effective LEGO video game to date, LEGO Superstar Wars: The Pressure Awakens is a certain breath of clean Hoth air for the stagnating flick franchise-turned-LEGO game formula.

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

i should also probably let you guys know:

work issued a two-week ultimatum for me to “””””improve”””” (on things they won’t even give me SPECIFICS for?), or I’l losing my job.

So all I asked or is a thorough, detailed checklist of things I have to “improve on”, and complete during my shifts, because to my knowledge, I am doing everything I was trained to do.

tl;dr after about three weeks of conversations, me asking managers about priorities vs. time management, I figured out that they want me to randomly “notice” OTHER things to do, which doesn’t happen when you’re a non-visual person with ADD, especially when I’m very concerned with keeping my area clean, and my skillset, the way my brain works, is very specialized. this is why I’m good at anatomy, chemistry, and ecology, but not very great at small talk, unless I have an internal dichotomous script (”if they say this, I’ll say that. But if they say the opposite, here’s how I respond.”)

Point is, they’re asking me to do something I am physically unable to do.

Ask my stepmother-- she’s been yelling at me for this stuff all my life. Calling me names over it. ABUSING me for it. So that’s a little terrifying to the part of me with PTSD as well as the part that doesn’t want to lose her fucking job over this.

And I don’t know if this will even work...

So they gave me a form, I took it to my psychiatrist and my councilor, and I had them sign it yesterday, and also got a note from the psychiatrist on how my ADD is debilitating and a freaking CHECKLIST will help me do my job.

(How hard is it to make a checklist? How is that something I needed a form and a doctor’s note for??? PetSmart and Chipotle had checklists that expanded on their corporate checklists by CHOICE, long BEFORE I came into the picture. I told them this, I told them it works miracles on me, and the Target people STILL don’t want to make me one.)

The Americans with Disabilities Act REQUIRES employers to make “Reasonable Accomodations” for employees with disabilities.

Hohboy, is ADD fucking debilitating.

But making a freaking CHECKLIST for me? How is that an unreasonable accommodation.

I make them every week.

It takes me about two hours, because I have to re-run things constantly, to make sure I didn’t forget anything... even just to build my grocery list......

...but somebody who’s able to sit there and, in focus and tangent-free thought, tick things off on their fingers? This list would take, maybe a half hour. Including the time for lamination. There’s one right in that office. And we already have dry erase markers in my department (...even though we have no dry erase board there???)....

I’m not asking for that much time, effort, or resources. It is a VERY Reasonable request for Accommodation.

So, they are at the point where they’re being a little ridiculous about not wanting to put any liiiittle Extra effort into... helping an employee improve? (Isn’t that a manager’s entire JOB?)

...I mean... when I brought my concerns to another manager, she didn’t even flinch and basically said, ask the department lead for a thorough list when she gets back from vacation. SHE didn’t need a note to justify it.... but whatever. 

I’m at the point of looking for another, better-managed job. Problem is: not even the specialized, local veterinary jobs are paying $10.50/hour. (Minimum wage here is about $8.50. And most secretarial and assistant jobs, without the vet tech registration/certification, are only offering $9/hour.)

....sooooooooo I don’t really want to lose this job. I’m kinda liking the cushy pay and immense relief of financial anxiety, and ability to buy my own food without cutting into rent costs.

(I’ll still be applying for food stamps, because food DOES cut into costs for, say, a new pair of shoes to replace my work shoes that are starting to, literally, fall apart... but you only notice if you look straight at them. That isn’t as essential as rent.)

...and I can’t apply for medicaid and food stamps because the family won’t, you know, actually SIGN a paper stating that I’m paying them rent.... -_-

...but in the meantime: $10.50 is satisfying my immediate needs, until I can get out of school and ask for higher pay....

I don’t want to give up just because the immediate managers are being dicks about my ADD, honestly. I was over the MOON when I was hired by Target, and I told every single manager this. I am GOING to fight for it, even if I have to call 

...I’m still kind of considering applying for disability........ but I don’t think I’ve been working for 5 years solid, juuust yet. And you need 10 credits, one for every 6 months, of being in the working world. And all I have on my side is a diagnosis from age 7, I need to kind of get my medical providers more aware of my issues and how they limit me before I can ask for a thorough note and ask them to fill out extensive paperwork regarding my disability to perform basic tasks...

...it’s so ridiculous and frustrating that I can name every part of a neuron, list off hormones and neurotransmitters, tell you the difference, and tell you what most of them do, from what I read ONCE last night. But I can’t accomplish a simple task like “notice the pizza sauce on the counter right in front of you and notice that you have to clean it up”.

Because my attention is internally controlled, not externally controlled.

Because I have ADD.

And this makes me immensely driven to accomplish tasks I know I need to accomplish.

But this also makes it damn-near impossible to seek new tasks that I’m not already aware of.

An internal locust of control grants me immense powers of responsibility, drive, motivation, and desire to do things for the sake of getting them done.

But everyone else around me seems to focus with an external locust, where their environment guides them and motivates them. Where they do things by seeing that it needs done. Usually without ADD getting in the way.

And this means they simply can’t actually comprehend my struggles. How it limits me... how I need specific, individual direction if tehy want me to suceed.

I just need help.

And I think that’s the most frustrating thing; I genuinely did think I was being a phenomenal employee. I got accolades from several superiors, at least three customers individually told me they love it when I serve them because I’m “very polite”, or “make good recommendations”, or “this is my new favorite drink”. And I don’t even LIKE people, I’m just very good at manipulating them into thinking I’m ~happy~ with my facial muscles and vocal tone.

The managers are willing to criticize, but not address the root causes of my supposed shortcomings.

And even with my internal locust of control, I know there are forces I cannot control. Like short-sightedness. And narrow-mindedness. And managers not understanding their duties and required accommodations listed under federal LAW.

And that sucks, because there’s so much more I could give, if only they’d open that door and let me see what it is I need, so I can give it. Because obviously, I can’t open it myself. I can’t “just look around and see”. I can’t. I never will. Not until they teach me what to look for.

(And is that ever too much to ask? “What do I need to SEEK? I can’t just notice things; I need to SEEK them. I need to know what I’m looking for, and when to look for it.” Why are these questions they can’t answer?)

[booksthatmadeus-blog]

Escape to Willow Cottage Review (Bella Osborne)

“It’s easy to halve the potato where there’s love”

If there’s a book form for the kind of warm, fuzzy Richard Curtis-like romcom, then Bella Osborne’s Escape to Willow Cottage is it.  There’s even snow at Christmas.  That’s not to say that it doesn’t have an edge, with an undercurrent of domestic violence often the driver of the plot.  But it’s still quaint, sentimental fare with a very English heart.  The fictional hamlet of Dumbleford is a case in point – with its village green, vintage Morris Minor and an eclectic cast of subsidiary characters – from the trolley-pulling Shirley to the simple willow-hogging Ernie.  It’s a world away from the hectic cosmopolitan life of London – a world that our principle character Beth is desperate to ‘escape’ from.

That, and her abusive partner.  In an impulsive decision, she purchases Willow Cottage on a whim at an auction, and promptly uproots herself and her son Leo from city life to Dumbleford. But the picture postcard cottage she was expecting is a long way from the truth. Arriving at her new property, she soon realises that Willow Cottage is a ramshackle wreck in need of a major overhaul. With her manicured nails and penchant for chai lattes, the task before her is initially daunting, but she gets down to it and what follows is a voyage of discovery – of her independence and her capabilities.

For what is ostensibly chick-lit, Escape to Willow Cottage is an enjoyable, easy-going romp – as rosy and warm as The Darling Buds of May.  Beth initially comes across as aloof and snooty – too sophisticated for the salt-of-the-earth character landscape that is Dumbleford.  But this veneer soon evaporates amidst the charming sincerity and wholesomeness of the village.  That should be underlined – as much as the story is about Beth finding out who she is, it’s also a validation of an old-fashioned concept called community. In the often silo-like existence of the social media world, the Dumbleford brand of tea rooms, pub quizzes and everyone knowing everyone else is attractive.  And it’s a community in which Beth finds security and solace.

It’s not all great. There are some set-pieces that seem forced rather than natural, and Beth’s frequent ‘quickening-of-the-pulse’ when in the company of the neighbourhood stud left me wondering if it was more a symbol of some pre-existing heart condition.  It’s also quite clear that Beth is a bright, level-headed woman, which does jar with some of the rather ridiculous snap judgements that she makes.  These instances often feel contrived – purposely designed to bring some sort of Bridget Jones-esque hilarity via societal faux-pas.  The book is also outrageously sentimental, especially of DIY, which is so romanticised in this story that a layabout like me wonders if he’s missing out.

I think what the book does well is strike a harmony between a modern world of iPads and social media, and an older, traditional life of community.  It doesn’t prescribe abstinence from our devices, and one character’s eventual uptake of one is heralded as a major success.  Even the main love interest - the quintessential alpha male with chiselled features and a knack for hard graft – still has a soft spot for Minecraft.  But it does warn against them as well.  One plot thread which particularly stood out was a social media campaign to help find a missing child.  Trust me – it’ll make you think again the next time you see something similar on Facebook.  The story pushes the mandate that you can have all these things, but don’t forget the value in talking to your neighbour, in playing football on the green, or joining the locals on Bonfire Night.  Above all, take part, don’t stand apart, and your life will be richer for it.

The domestic violence thread is handled with less aplomb.  It more functions as a plot device, and more so when it comes to domestic violence against men, which is so expositional as to border on disrespect. But then this is Beth’s story. And as a journey out of the stranglehold of domestic violence and submission, it’s very much a fist pump of female independence – of finding out what you can do when you have the freedom to do it.  As sentimental as the story is, Beth’s journey is still inspiring, and there’s no harm in that. Coupled with the chick-lit checklist of handsome love interest, romantic proposals and a glamorous wedding – I would imagine that it’s an ideal getaway for the female imagination.

Escape to Willow Cottage Review - verdict: Sweet, sentimental tale that - despite some missteps - makes for a cosy night in.

[jencoken]

The 5 Most Common Mistakes People Make

Mistake Number 1: You Play Small

Unsuccessful people avoid setting goals. As the Cheshire Cat said to Alice “If you don’t know where you are going, any road will do.” Successful people know where they are going because they spend the time to reflect on mistakes they’ve made in the past and create 3 to 5 goals per year that they are out to achieve.

Furthermore successful people don't just set run of the mill goals, they big audacious goals that will be worthy of their time and worthy of the possibility of failure. Successful people know that putting their butts on the line for something big is where their creative juices flow. They also know that even if they fail, simply knowing that they left it all on the playing field was worth the effort.

One other point, successful people also know that failing does not make you a failure. Failing is just a step toward success.

Mistake Number 2: You Have No Plan of Action

Ideas are great, but your ideas will stay ideas unless you have a comprehensive plan for how to achieve them. Successful people break down their annual goals into smaller chunks – quarterly, monthly, weekly and even daily. Your plan will make sure that what you are working on each day is moving you toward success.

Mistake Number 3: You Don’t Write Things Down in One Place

Successful people keep track of their ideas, their to do’s, notes and reflections all in one notebook. This is the first thing I recommend to my clients: Go buy one (AND ONLY ONE) notebook to keep track of everything. The notebook doesn't have to be special but it should fit into your purse or pocket so that you can take it everywhere. If you are like most people, you have post it notes or scribble pads in your house, in your car, and on your computer at work. By keeping all of your ideas in one place you avoid repeating yourself and don’t have to hunt for that “great idea” you had last week in your Monday morning meeting.

Mistake Number 4: You Don’t Keep Track of Everything You Have To Do

It’s great to have everything in a notebook, but if you don’t have an easy way to keep track of those items, it’s unlikely they will get done. I give my clients a “Reality Checklist.” Every night I coach them to take what is in their notebook and put it into what I call their "Reality Checklist.” This checklist is a simple excel spreadsheet that keeps track of your “to dos” in several different ways - by category, by deadline, by date entered and by amount of estimated time it will take to complete each task. This simply allows you to be more productive because you can sort the data according to your goals.

Mistake Number 5: You Don’t Deal with Reality

Have you ever felt overwhelmed or like the weight of the world is on your shoulder because you have so much going on? Well truth be told you have a finite amount of things going on. If you are writing them down, and putting them into your Reality Checklist then you know you have 14 things, or 67 things or 23 things going on. But that is only part of your path to success. Everything "you have going on" must be scheduled into your calendar.  

Take the items from your “Reality Checklist” and start scheduling appointments in your calendar to complete the work. You can schedule yourself a month, three months or a year out based on your deadlines. The point is to get it into a real time frame. This way you can be realistic about what you can get done and still have time for yourself, your family and your friends!

Knowing these common mistakes and how to avoid them will surely change the way you look at how to be ridiculously effective, but it’s not enough.

Not only do you have to know what NOT to do, but you also must make some positive changes to achieve your annual goals.