ʀɪsᴇ ᴜᴘ; ᴇʏᴇs ᴜᴘ

Lin Manuel Miranda being a huge nerd in the LMTWGR Making of video

Great minds think alike, yeah? That's how the saying goes. Doesn't surprise me that we make the grade when it comes to cliched tropes. I dunno if doing extra work makes me a sweetheart, but it does mean I've got stuff on hand at all times, ready to toss over for replacing excess fluff that seems unnecessary. Not that anyone at this paper would produce such content, but. You know. Thomas has off days more often than his on ones. You can never be too sure, too careful. -- Don't kiss me on the forehead, please. 

You can think you're as successful as you want, but. The facts don't lie. Neither do reports. On a scale of publications in the city, The Hurricane out grosses The King's Speech. Dunno how else I can say it without callin' up the New York Times and getting a statement myself.

Lin-Manuel Miranda

linmiranda.com you’re killin us here

Wish I would have known that, but next check. I’ll buy it, you’ll bring the food and I’ll provide the wine, we’ll make a game night of it. Ah yes, watch as Maria and Alex journey back through the 90s and late 80s to relive the most magical moments in time. The lost childhoods, coming to you this fall on NBC. 

You don't know how down for this I am. Fuckin' game night sounds like the best thing I can invest my time into once a week, and I'm actually surprised at how hype I'm getting just thinking about this right now. -- Listen. If I'm gonna educate myself, I don't wanna do it alone. Especially if I don't have to be, yeah? Less room for me to look like a fool. It's purely selfish intentions on my part.

What kinda world do you live in where you think everyone on this planet would care if you were gone? This is something you've really gotta hammer into your brain, Georgie -- the universe doesn't give a shit about you. The same can be said for me, too. For anyone. The sooner you wrap your pea sized brain around that very simple logic, the better. -- Isn't what what you do, anyways? Sit at home and collect a paycheck while your underpaid workers do all your shit for you? Poorly, I might add. (And if the rest of the city read your publication, you'd have better revenue scores. Kinda breaks your 'I don't give a fuck' stance when I'm supported by actual facts.)

I thought you found this hilarious? Sending people your way should be far from a threat to you then, shouldn’t it? – It was wonderful. Also actually rather on the pathetic side. I half expected him to wear uggs and adapt a valley accent as well while he was at it. … fine. I guess if I’ve ever got the good gossip to drag George all the way back to England, you won’t know about it.

I said it was a vague threat. I'm not annoyed at the idea. I just fail to see the logic when the circumstances that make it hysterical to your unique situation don't work for my situation. It's a simple case of facts, Jefferson. -- I'd pay money to see that. I don't think he'd ever (unless he would, which in that case, December should be interesting), but the image alone is enough to make me laugh for at least twenty minutes. There's a difference between good gossip and just plain voyeurism, fam. You're toeing a very sensitive line. 

Well, if I ever turn it into a daily thing, it wouldn’t be much of who has died, but rather a share of something that motivates me, one way or another and maybe somebody else would find motivation in that as well. I have seen your e-mails, thank you. Neat and well worded, as always. I am impressed… as always. And you know you can give me anything, I will always look over it when I have time. I’m sure I’ll find something to fill the paper with in case some parts were missing. 

Hey -- I'll take your word for it. Our taste in inspirational people tend to line up most of the time, alive or dead, so. Could be a good way to rally the troops, as it were. -- Perfect. Not that I think anything would be missing, of course, but. Y'know. Just in case. I've always got too much time on my hands and too much stuff I wanna expand on. Figured I'd give you the chance to look it over before I turn towards freelance.

"A speech?" He sighs, head falling back dramatically as he does so. "The guy already stalks us, babe. He literally snuck into our offices to turn them into pride floats. Plus! He's a shit head who's had nothing good to say about me in four years outside of our relationship," he pauses, pressing a hand to John's chest. "He's a menace. And you wanna let him talk about us on what's gonna be the most important day our lives?" His lips pout softly, eyes wide as he does so. "I thought you loved me." He's teasing, of course, his smile cracking a moment later as he leans up. "If it's gonna happen, make sure I'm drunk when he goes on. That way, I can tune out of whatever bullshit he's gonna make up on the spot. And if he tries to wax poetic about our years of fake ass friendship, I'm kicking his ass to the curb. High key. No refunds, no exceptions." He relaxes when John's arms wrap around him completely, his eyes soft as he turns. His legs curl up, settling as he bends at the knee, and his head moves to duck onto John's shoulder, his own arms falling into his laps as fingertips trace the thin material of John's tank top. His words cause is stomach to flip, his lips quirked into a smirk as he does so. "Can you blame me?" He asks, brows raised as his head tilts back, their eyes meeting in a warm, familiar gaze. "You're gonna look fine as hell. You already look nice when you get all dressed up and shit, but knowing that you're dressed up for me? That I'm gonna be kissing my husband for the first time?" He pauses, lips rubbing together as warmth blooms in the pit of his stomach. "Just try to ask me to contain myself. I already know I won't be able to, and whatever happens in that car ride to the reception is not my fault, but -- merely -- an act of fate. And little to no self restraint." Chuckling, he leans up, pressing a kiss at the corner of John's chin with a dream-like sigh. "I still can't believe we're getting married. It's actually happening." His eyes drop to his hand, again, eyeing the ring with the same sense of joy he gets upon remembering just how lucky he is to have him. How lucky he is that John loves him so completely, so deeply, so wholly. "I love you," he adds, apropos of nothing.