#nightly diary entry here we go boys

[kate-apologist]

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[awanderingdeal]

Simply having a wonderful Christmas time [Part 3]

Back, back, back again. This time we have Christmas O’Knutzy for you!

Happy boxing day! Happy 2nd Christmas! Happy 26th December. 

This one is dedicated to those of you of who are perhaps not spending Christmas in the way that you would like this year. I hope this brings you a little bit of Joy. Please note that this fic is filled with happy Christmas people so if that is going to make you feel worse then please avoid.

Look, don’t ask what is going here. It is the weirdest mix of ‘Angus, thongs and full frontal snogging’ type diary entry and fluff. If anything, hopefully it will make you laugh.

Rating: T(+) - A couple of mentions of sexual acts. 

CW: CHRISTMAS, FOOD TALK AND A BRIEF MENTION OF MEDCATION

Last, but most certainly not least - these boys and this universe belongs to @lumosinlove​. We are just mere peasants destined to fall in love with them.

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“Knutty! Leave the kitchen! I’m tired,” Finn yelled from the bedroom. 

“I’m not in the kitchen. I’m writing,” Leo yelled back. It may have been a little white lie because Leo was in fact, pouring steaming water over tea leaves. He was nearly finished though and going to head through to the library to complete his nightly ritual of writing in his diary. 

“Liar!” Finn replied, but there was no heat in voice. “I can hear the kettle.”

Leo rolled his eyes fondly. He put the kettle down and headed towards the bedroom where he found a pouting Finn. “Just go to sleep. I’ll be back soon,” Leo said.

“But I need bedtime kisses. It’s Christmas, I can’t be deprived of bedtime kisses,” Finn whined.

Logan’s features knitted into a frown, “Et je suis quoi ? Une grenouille?”

Finn’s eyes widened, “Why are you talking about frogs?” 

“Why do you know the word fr-” Logan started. 

“Fish, Lo can give you kisses.” Leo cut him off, knowing if he let them start on this line of conversation he would still be standing there in an hour's time. 

“Logan kisses are good, but I want Leo kisses too,” Finn argued. 

Leo pushed himself off the door frame that he had been leaning on. “I’m sure Logan can keep you thoroughly entertained,” he drawled. “I’m going now,” he added with a lilt, but Finn and Logan had already occupied their lips so there was no reply. 

25th December 

Dear Diary, 

I’ll try to keep this short because Finn is screaming at me to come to bed, but I didn’t feel like it was fair to neglect you on what may go down as my favourite day ever. I know that I say that at least once a week but I might really mean it this time. 

Let me give you the top 5:

1.Christmas Day 2020

2. First time Finn and Logan said I love you (I refuse to choose. It’s my diary you can’t make me.)

3. First time Finn and Logan met Mama and Dad

4. First NHL game.

5.That time Logan told me that my soup was better than Celeste’s. He might have been high on pain meds but I’m taking it. 

Anyway, why was it the best day ever I hear you ask? Let me tell you. Actually, let me show you. I made an amazing schedule that was greatly underappreciated by my boyfriends (damn, it still feels good to say that) so maybe you can appreciate it.

It is now 23:49, if that tells you anything about how off schedule we got. Not that I mind, it was a perfect day. Everyday with these boys is. I’m so lucky. 

I’m so glad that we decided to stay here, just us, for our first Christmas. It’s been a manic December fitting in visits to everybody and we still have Canada for New Years, but it was so worth it. 

Anyway, enough of the mush. I’ll see you tomorrow. 

Signing off,

Leo.

Leo gave a contented sigh as he finished up the entry. He had taken a lot longer than he had planned to write. but he was so full of thoughts that evening. He needed to get them down on paper if he had any hope of sleep that night.

He tiptoed back into the bedroom, assuming that his boyfriends would be asleep by now. However, as he pulled back the sheets he noticed that Finn was still awake.

“Hey,” Leo whispered, mindful of Logan. “I wasn’t expecting you to still be up.”

Finn looked up at him with big wide eyes and a sleepy smile, “Needed my Leo kisses.” 

“Oh.” Leo stilled for a beat as he climbed into the bed. He probably should be used to Finn saying things that made his heart melt by now, but somehow, it felt like the first time, every time. Finn had a thousand different ways to say ‘I love you’ and Leo heard every one. 

“I’m here now,” Leo replied, pressing a gentle kiss to Finn’s lips. 

Finn nodded his head and pulled Leo closer. “Hmm, much better.”

[z1nomad]

New Reality Journal- It's a First

I'm not sure when the first thought of keeping a journal popped into my head as an adult. At the age of 48, the memory of inconsequential random thoughts have a tendency to become fuzzy if they reoccur often, or maybe happened more than 20 years ago. I'm guessing, my lack of exact recollection is due to the latter. There is something romantic and yet uncomfortable about permanently logging my thoughts and feelings. I am a girl who wears her feelings on her sleeve. What you see is what you get. Or, maybe I just like to tell people that. To let them think I am a simple friend with simple feelings and simple expectations. That's a lot easier than sharing how complicated, deep and contemplative I actually am. I made an attempt once. When I was maybe 10 or 11 a birthday party gift haul yielded a shiny red, "Hello Kitty" diary, complete with a mini pencil and shiny, gold lock with 2 little keys. I was intrigued. After all, it was 1981 or 82 and most of my friends had already bragged about hours spent tediously logging their inner most secrets in their own diaries. So, I set out to start logging my life and my secret thoughts. I promptly put my little red diary in my underwear drawer with an air of excitement at the anticipation of a new hobby that I thought would make my friends like me more. A few days went by, and I was startled when I remembered my shiny new diary still nestled in my underwear drawer. "Shoot!" I was so irritated with myself. "I need a better spot." I thought. So, with determination, I tucked my little red diary right under my pillow. With that, I was sure to be successful at stealthily listing all of my secrets. I couldn't possibly forget! Dinner rolled around, and my parents and 2 brothers all sat down to eat. Conversation turned to an account what each one of us had done for the day as it often did. Mundane chatter, my toddler brothers messy, slurpy eating sounds and laughter all wrapped around that comfortable easy feeling you get sharing food and talk with those that know you best. Then, out of nowhere, "So, Gretchie, have you been writing in your diary?" My Mom! I felt my face break out in prickly cool perspiration. I felt all eyes on me, even my toddler brother, Tim. Minutes, or hours it felt like went by in that brief split second before I stammered, " Oh, yeah. Yeah!" What?!! Why did I lie? Ugh, why do I just blurt out things when I get uncomfortable and say what I think people want to hear?! Why!? My other brother, Toby, the annoying, 16 months younger than me, awkward dork, chimed in..."Oooooh" in that goofy dorking paltry attempt to try to burn me. I rolled my eyes. The conversation changed and I can't quite remember what my Dad asked my mom. I immediately felt a rush or relief quickly followed by anxiety and despair at my lie that I just told coupled with the lack of even one single entry into my diary. The pressure was on. We finished up dinner. It was my turn to load the dishwasher and my brothers turn to rinse. We didn't talk. I was annoyed that he was moving at a glacial pace. Getting the dishes done was taking what felt like forever. I noticed that he seemed overly methodical about getting every last smudge of remnant food debris off of each dish and piece of serviceware. "Come on you reject!" I jeered at him. "What's your problem?! Mooooom! Gretchen just called me a reject again." "Shut up! I did not!" I snapped " Mom. He's taking forever!" "You two knock it off in there." Dad in a halfhearted attempt to stop our bickering. In our house, my mom ran a strict timeline of nightly events during the week. Dinner happened right at 6pm, dishes were done promptly after eating while she gave Tim a bath, and my Dad settled in on the couch. After, Toby and I were done with the dishes, we each took turns pretending to take baths or taking baths depending on the day. That a very slim amount of time for homework check with my mother, before teeth were brushed and lights were out as we were shooed into our comfy beds. Finally! Done with the dishes, and I ran to my bedroom. "I'm going first!" I sing songed as I jerked open my drawers to retrieve my flannel pajama set and Little House on the Prairie underwear. "It's not your turn to go first." Annoying dorky brother. "What do you care? You never want to go first, anyway." "So! It's my turn to go first! Moooom!" "Shut up you turd! I'M going first tonight!" I spat at him as I pushed him aside and launched myself into the bathroom. I quickly locked the bathroom door as I heard him whining to my mom. I quickly started the bath water to pretend that I couldn't hear my brother starting to cry and my mom calling my name. I bathed in less than 10 minutes. I even washed my hair and brushed my teeth. I was so quick, that the water was still circling counterclockwise down the drain as I yanked the door open and yelled out, "I'm done!!". I sprinted down that hall, lunged into my room, and flicked on the light switch. I looked at my reflection in the French country style dresser mirror and smiled. I was finally gonna do it. I was finally gonna tell all of my secrets to what was going to be my new best friend...My Diary! I pulled my pastel, rainbow bedspread down and slipped my hand under my pillow. It was there, cool, smooth and inviting just like I expected. I relaxed as I pulled it out. I was comforted by the thought that my dinner table lie, could easily be remedied and off of my conscious in just a few short minutes. Jesus wouldn't be too mad at me if I wrote in my diary and asked for forgiveness when I said my prayers. I closed my bedroom door, came back and tucked myself into my bed. I used the tiny keys to carefully turn the lock to the right. With a click, twist and lift the diaries pages were free. I eagerly slid the mini pencil from it's sleeve and used it to write my name on the first page. My name. My diary. My private thoughts! The next two canary yellow pages were mirror images of themselves. The top left said in all caps "My Diary" follow by a space and "Date:_______" The font was slim and delicate in a faint red that was almost pink. It was so feminine. So, not me. But, all my friends diaries were all probably this girly, and I desperately wanted to fit in. So, it was okay. I made the obligatory date entry and moved down to the body of the page..."Dear Diary," I started. Okay. Now what? What salacious and surprising secret do I want to list first? Wait. Do I have any secrets? Okay. Yeah. I will write about the time I stole candy at the Grocery Outlet and almost got caught because my friend Stacy Lucia had the candy she shoved in her pants fall down the leg as we were walking out. Wait. No. That's not good enough. Maybe I should write about boys. Well, I don't have any boys that I really like. Boys don't like me. I have lots of friends that are boys though. I stared up at the rainbows stretched across my canopy bed. Ugh. I hate this bed. Why did my mom pick this bed out for me? Okay. Back to my diary. Ummmm....well, maybe I should start with just saying what I'm going to do. I gripped the awkward mini pencil and pressed it to the paper. "Hi. My name is Gretchen Garcia. This is my diary. I'm going to write all of my secrets here so that I can read this when I grow up. The end. Good night. Gretchen" My diary, as you can probably guess, never had any real secrets logged in it. I was always too worried my jerk brother would find it and tell everyone what was in it. Plus, I was always distracted and after about 3 or 4 entries, I would forget about it again until one of my friends would mention theirs. That would send me into a renewed fervor to get back to sharing my thoughts. I lost track of this little diary. We moved around a lot and it must have been tossed at some point. So, let's hope this new journey into adult diary keeping sticks. I think logging family stories will keep me engaged. And if it doesn't, well.... Hell. I tried...AGAIN!

[kartiavelino]

Actors recall living in fear of Jerome Robbins — yet dying to work with him

It’s a legend that even now, 20 years after Jerome Robbins’ dying, threatens to outline him: Whereas berating his actors, he stepped farther and farther again on stage till he toppled into the orchestra pit. And nobody stated a phrase to cease him. Some say the present was “Name Me Madam,” “Excessive Button Sneakers” or “Billion Greenback Child.” (An eyewitness tells The Put up it was, in reality, “West Facet Story.”) However the underlying message is similar: The choreographer and director was a terror to work with. Final month, after a “Chicago” actor killed himself following what was reportedly a brutish rehearsal, many recalled Robbins and his penchant for pushing dancers and actors to the breaking level. Nonetheless, it’s exhausting to think about Broadway or the ballet with out him. Which is why Robbins — who was born 100 years in the past and died at 79 on July 29, 1998 — is as revered as he’s reviled. His centennial 12 months is being celebrated throughout the nation and in Germany, France and the Netherlands. On Aug. 9, there might be a tribute aboard the Intrepid in Manhattan, with performances and panels moderated by Robbins biographer Amanda Vaill. In ballets and such musicals as “West Facet Story,” “Peter Pan,” “The King and I” and “Fiddler on the Roof,” Robbins introduced a naturalism to dance and motion that was revolutionary — motive sufficient why those that survived each him and his wrath have a tendency to recall the grasp, not the monster. Jerome Robbins throughout a 1974 rehearsal Getty Photographs Getty Photographs Getty Photographs Getty Photographs 4 View Slideshow “Stephen Sondheim stated that Robbins was the one genius he’s ever recognized,” stated Vaill, who had entry to the director’s diaries and papers whereas writing 2006’s “Someplace: The Life of Jerome Robbins.” And he was, she factors out, self-taught: Unable to afford greater than a 12 months at NYU, younger Jerome Rabinowitz dropped out and ferried between Weehawken, NJ — the place his father urged him to be part of the household corset enterprise — and New York, the place he kick-started his dance profession. Alongside the way in which, he developed what Vaill calls “a form of tunnel imaginative and prescient — as soon as he’d seen what he needed, nothing else was necessary.” Within the identify of artwork, he’d make actors and dancers undergo their paces repeatedly, typically screaming at them and hurling insults. “Jerry not solely attacked you, he attacked your loved ones, your background, the place you lived, the way you lived, who you studied with,” Tony Mordente, a “West Facet Story” forged member, advised biographer Greg Lawrence. Yet Mordente and plenty of different stars say they owe their careers to him. “The acute battle between his admirers and disparagers made my e book an emotional ordeal to write,” Lawrence advised The Put up of his 2001 biography, “Dance with Demons: The Life of Jerome Robbins.” A perfectionist, Robbins was even exhausting on his collaborators, together with “West Facet Story” composer Leonard Bernstein. “My father had to battle with so many points of Jerry’s difficult character,” Bernstein’s daughter, Jamie, advised The Put up. “He was impolite and imperious and harsh and terrible to artists . . . and yet my father managed to set it apart and go on working with Jerry.” Jerome Robbins circa 1950Getty Photographs However others by no means forgave him — if not for his cruelty, than for naming names earlier than the Home Un-American Actions Committee (HUAC) in the 1950s. As his biographers found, Robbins dropped the dime on his colleagues much less from fear of being blacklisted than that of being outed. A bisexual whose best love, many consider, was for a ballerina — Tanaquil LeClerc, the spouse of his idol, George Balanchine — Robbins additionally had affairs with males, Montgomery Clift amongst them. Not solely did he fear his household’s wrath, however homosexuality was then punishable by jail. Like many artists, he’d flirted with communism and the post-World Struggle II concept of Soviet-American friendship. All of the whereas, the FBI was watching him. So was Ed Sullivan. A decade earlier than he launched the Beatles, Sullivan was placing fear into the hearts of leftists by vetting them for his TV present, typically writing damning objects about them in his newspaper column. In 1950, Sullivan pressed Robbins to reveal his actions and that of his fellow Soviet sympathizers, one of them Robbins’ sister. When Robbins refused, Sullivan canceled his look. However three years later, subpoenaed as a “pleasant witness,” Robbins caved. He gave HUAC the names of eight celebration members, seven of whom, Vaill stated, had been already recognized. Robbins later advised “West Facet Story” author Arthur Laurents that he wouldn’t know “for years” whether or not he’d finished the best factor. “Oh, I can let you know now,” Laurents replied. “You had been a s–t.” Zero Mostel overtly disdained Robbins. Blacklisted himself, although not by means of Robbins’ doing, the burly actor noticed his movie profession wither and die. Nonetheless, he knew a genius when he noticed one, and went on to star in 1964’s “Fiddler on the Roof,” which Robbins choreographed and directed. Sheldon Harnick, the present’s lyricist, remembers that first fraught day of rehearsal, and the way he and the forged awaited Robbins’ arrival. When he lastly got here in, Harnick stated, “He and Mostel checked out one another. Then Zero stated, ‘Hello, there, blabbermouth!’ and everybody broke up.” Even so, there was all the time stress between the forged and their director, who by no means left a single second of a present to probability — and did no matter he had to do to make his imaginative and prescient actual. “Perhaps I’ve tried to blot it out from my reminiscence,” Harnick, now 94, advised The Put up, “however Jerry could possibly be merciless, particularly to some of the ladies. If he had a criticism, he would specific it in a very chilly and merciless manner.” Austin Pendleton, who performed the present’s timid Motel the tailor, remembers one lacerating encounter so private, he advised Robbins’ assistant not to let the director discuss to him once more for every week. And Robbins obeyed: “He’d say, ‘Inform Austin to cross left,’ after which, every week to the day, he was supportive once more, and my efficiency had actually pulled collectively.” Jerome Robbins circa 1965Getty Photographs Now a director himself, Pendleton stated, “He was more durable on himself than anybody else.” Had Robbins not been a director, he might need been a puppeteer. Or so he advised Carol Lawrence, who performed Maria in 1957’s “West Facet Story,” when he confirmed her his puppet assortment. It was metaphor for a way he noticed the world. “He needed full management,” she advised The Put up. “You had been below his fingertips.” A agency believer in the strategy faculty of appearing, Robbins inspired off-stage enmity between his actors, typically with violent outcomes. Underneath Robbins’ course, Larry Kert — the Tony to Lawrence’s Maria — received a nightly pummeling. “Hit him more durable!” Robbins urged her as they rehearsed the scene in which Maria assaults the person who killed her brother. Someday, she recalled, Kert walked into her dressing room, his chest bandaged, and so in ache he may barely communicate. “The physician stated you’re loosening my lungs from my rib cage,” he whispered. “However I can’t inform Jerry.” As a substitute, Lawrence advised him. “And with no second’s pause, Jerry stated, ‘So hit him in the top, you received’t damage something there.’” Jerome Robbins throughout a rehearsal in 1965Getty Photographs Even Bernstein, who wrote the music for that present, got here in for a pounding, at the least psychologically, when Robbins crossed out some of his orchestrations. Years later, at Bernstein’s memorial service, Laurents stated his “West Facet Story” collaborator was afraid of solely two issues: “God and Jerry Robbins.” Many years earlier than Martin Charnin wrote and directed “Annie,” he performed a Jet in “West Facet Story.” He was, he advised The Put up proudly, the primary individual to sing “Gee, Officer Krupke, Krup you!” on a Broadway stage. Now 83, he remembers watching Robbins fall into the pit. He stated it occurred throughout a rehearsal in Philadelphia. “We needed to see how far he would go and he ended up going one step too far,” Charnin stated of himself and fellow Jets. Had the bass drum not damaged his fall, Robbins would have been badly damage. Why didn’t anybody cease him? “I actually don’t know,” Charnin stated. “Perhaps there was a collective second of tit for tat . . . I’d like to consider that it was only a mistake, and we had been terrified — we didn’t need him to get damage. “For all of how robust Jerry was, he additionally had one thing inside of him that was actually good,” he continued, “and that goodness manifested itself in the work. He knew what he needed, and what I realized and used in my profession actually got here from a fountain known as Jerome Robbins.” Jerome Robbins in 1988Getty Photographs Chita Rivera, whose multi-Tony-winning profession took off after her function in “West Facet Story,” goes additional. “All I do know is that I used to be in love with Jerry,” she advised The Put up. “I bear in mind feeling euphoric once I noticed him work — it was simply so stunning, and so proper and on the nostril . “He taught us how to be. Once I was operating by means of the door to the window after [the song] ‘A Boy Like That,’ he stated, ‘Don’t dance to the window. May you simply return and stroll to the window?’ “He taught us how to dance as individuals, not as dancers.” It was dancers with whom Robbins selected to spend his final twenty years. After “Fiddler,” he and his “West Facet Story” group tried and failed to get one other exhibit the bottom. Disenchanted with Broadway, Robbins returned to the place he began, making the ballets which might be nonetheless being danced in the present day. “I believe with the ballet dancers, he had a barely gentler edge, although he may nonetheless rip and destroy somebody,” stated Christine Redpath, who teaches the Robbins repertoire at New York Metropolis Ballet. “He had just a few individuals right here and there he’d beat into. I bear in mind one man being utterly devastated, in tears . . . however he survived.” It helped that Robbins beloved canine, his personal and everybody else’s. One of Redpath’s golden retrievers got here in useful throughout the making of at the least one ballet. “When he was choreographing ‘Brandenburg’ in the early ’90s, the rehearsal pianist stated, ‘I’ll offer you cash if you happen to carry Emma into the room!’ ” Redpath advised The Put up. “So I did and he or she’d lie below Jerry’s seat. When he received tense, he’d look down at her and he or she’d have a look at him and he’d smile and the temper would change.” Others observed it, too. As “West Facet Story” dancer Grover Dale advised biographer Greg Lawrence a 12 months after Robbins’ dying, “I typically puzzled what the work would have been like had he been as candy to his dancers as he had been to his canine. “Maybe ‘contentment’ and ‘being a genius’ don’t combine very effectively,” Dale stated. Share this: https://nypost.com/2018/07/26/actors-recall-living-in-fear-of-jerome-robbins-yet-dying-to-work-with-him/ The post Actors recall living in fear of Jerome Robbins — yet dying to work with him appeared first on My style by Kartia. https://www.kartiavelino.com/2018/07/actors-recall-living-in-fear-of-jerome-robbins-yet-dying-to-work-with-him.html