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fractallion · 10 months ago

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037/366 | 🔁 Serendipity

« 036/366 | 038/366 »

’Serendipity’ By 'Leonardo'

🚧

Is It catching❓Or is it just plain old serendipity❓

It was January 1st when I had the idea for the 366 series. It wasn’t fully formed, but I had to start. And, as the posts started to happen over the next few days, there were different ideas and formats running around in my head and being tried out. With the layouts, every time I locked down on a new one - I went back to the older 366 posts and adjusted. (Not the post itself - the layout.) I have never been diagnosed with OCD, but I have my suspicions.

It has now all settled down, a flow has been building, so much so that I have topics in my head that are maybe a week out.

The trouble is that some of the topics are big, and I know I don’t have time on that day and some get really big so have to flag with 🚧 - my signal that I will be coming back.

🖇️ Like this one for example, which I flagged with the emoji - but I know there is so much more to say that I even added words for more context.

Let Me Explain

I happen to share 366 posts into specific, yet different communities to solicit feedback. 🖇️ This one for example, has spawned comments applying the thinking to a game, which then moved on to applying that game to corporate workshops. Which is just brilliant really. No idea if any of that will take off - we will have to see .. I just like the idea that

a post on LinkedIN by someone I do not know resulted in

a comment from someone I do know that caused me to

write a post about how that triggered a connection to something that I bang on and on about which meant I had to

find that original post so I could share that, so it made sense

which then made the 2nd person in the chain seek to clarify the idea I was spouting

which I confirmed that it was indeed

so he then took that and suggested that a game could be developed around the process, to which I said

or maybe turn it into a framework for Corporate Workshops and ….

… and that’s where we have got to so far. In amongst all of that I have some actions I need to do to close some loops - but it’s all because of the serendipity of the different people coming together in this chain of thinking. #Awesome

But - and here’s the weird part … this wasn’t the serendipitous event that I was referencing when I first ideated the theme of this post. Not at all.

The thread started as a simple idea that as I came up with this project - so too did Om, who I follow and read anyway - but within his ‘river’, he has a sub-theme called 🔗 Project 36

I don’t really follow his photos (though they are really rather good), and I became aware of it because of 🔗this post on his blog, which ends with these words …

As I dive into the rhythm of my 365 (+1) project, I realize how challenging it can be to sustain “photography” or any creative practice for that matter. Sometimes inspiration doesn’t strike, yet you still have to create. I approach creative work like a feast or a family gathering, and this project is truly pushing my limits.

They really resonated with me. ()Om often does) and on the 3rd🖇️ January I linked to his New Years message because those words there in my mind right at that point because just three days in I was already feeling the enormity of what I had challenged myself to deliver, daily.

I also have a couple of posts in the 366 series that are very short - to maintain the flow - but they don’t take much time. Like🖇️ this one from the 28th January - it’s a quick photo!

But there’s more. fellow MicroBlogger 🔗 TeeJay seems to have also latched on to the one a day post. In his case - every single day he is putting a lovely image that he takes on that day.

Turns out - for him it is not a new idea. 🔗As his new year post points out. and now his daily photo comes into my RSS feed each and every day - reminding me to stay the course.

And to tie it all back. This whole post was one of those quick throwaways. I had the idea for a ‘serendipity’ post when I had seen Om and Teejay - it was up my sleeve to write it when I was short of time. Like today.

Short of time? What the hell happened?

The observant amongst you wil have spotted that an ‘eye candy’ image accompnies every post. In this case, I wrote my two lines and hopped over to Leonardo to generate my image.

This was the first image to come out …

Seriously? Cubes? After just writing a a long post that featured a cube. Is Leonardo watching me? Of course I had to connect those dots and unpack that serendipity.

And with that … done. Time to post. A quick check reveals the word count to be roughly 100 times my original target. I know I am hitting the send button with the post not fully proofed, which is why 🚧 is at the top.

I will come back later to make whatever inevitable fixes I will need to do. For now though … I feel I have rambled to the end of this garden path and I can sense it has come around full circle back to where it all started.

If you are still with me. Thankyou for seeing it through.

This is one of 366 daily posts that are planned to appear throughout the year of 2024. More context will follow.

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teejaystumbles · 9 months ago

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Against all odds (a dreamling drabble)

(a 1989 comics AU where Dream does not go meet Hob despite being free)

Dream stares at the sleeping form of Hob Gadling and feels guilty.

He hadn’t gone to their centennial meeting. Despite having escaped Burgess’ cage and having recovered his tools, Dream has not met Hob at their appointed date at the White Horse.

He knows Hob waited for him. Waited until the day had gone and turned to night, after the clock had struck midnight and announced their date over. Dream knows this because he had stood, watching, for as long as the man waited inside the White Horse Inn.

He is not proud of this.

If he examines his reasons for not entering the Inn, keeping watch from the other side of the street instead, he draws a blank.

Dream does not know why he did not go inside, he knows he froze at the sight of the closed door, the cramped space indoors he could see through the glass (glass, why so much glass everywhere). He had stepped back and waited for his unease to lift, and when that did not happen he had waited for Hob to leave so Dream might meet him outside, but the man did not leave the Inn until the owner practically threw him out on the street, long after midnight. Dream had stepped forward then, only to watch his old acquaintance break down against the building wall and sob.

Why did Dream not go to him then? Why did he step back into the shadows and watch Hob drag himself up to his feet with a whimper and stumble down the street, hand trailing the wall for support. The only answer Dream can come up with is a supremely uncomfortable one.

He is a coward.

When it comes to relationships, Dream’s track record is disastrous, a fact that he is very aware of. He left Hob in 1889 with cutting words and no promise to return. Hob should by rights be angry at Dream, should be less trusting that he would show. But still the man waited for him at their next appointment, as if he had known Dream’s words to be products of his rage and not vows he would keep. Even if he doesn’t know it, Hob was right to expect Dream to not simply terminate their arrangement. Because here Dream stands, at the foot of Hob’s bed, watching the man sleep, too scared of a smug ‘I-knew-you’d-see-sense’ to dare approach him while awake.

Hob had slowly made his way home, unaware of Dream following him, drawn to him like there was a string tying them to each other. By then Dream felt like the point where he could make himself known had passed, but he hadn’t been able to leave. He kept trailing after Hob, into his small two-room apartment; had watched him shed only his shoes and then stood in the shadows of his curtains while Hob took out a small leather-bound book and pen and started to write. Dream had felt like a ghost, a nightmare watcher haunting his victim. He had carefully reigned in any stray trickles of his power to not make himself known or Hob uncomfortable in his invisible presence. After a few minutes Hob had stopped writing and sighed. Then he wiped his hands over his face tiredly and went to bed, not bothering to get out of his clothes.

Dream stands beside the table with the book now. The pages are still open. His eyes seek out the words unbidden, unable to resist the pull of the written word. He knows he is breaking a lot of taboos this evening. He is invading his friend’s privacy most thoroughly. The knowledge does not stop him from reading what Hob has written.

June 7th 8th, 1989

He didn’t come. The bastard really didn’t come. I can’t believe it. I was so sure he would show. That he was just angry, prideful and stubborn as he is, but surely a hundred years would be long enough to calm down?

Apparently they weren’t. I sat there, at our table at the White Horse, drinking one whiskey after the other, waiting like an idiot until they threw me out, and he didn’t show.

Do you even remember me? Or did you cut me from your memory, like you promised to cut all our ties, the night you left me standing in the rain? Have I left any impact at all on your immortal life that is probably much longer than my own? Surely it must be obvious to you that you have impacted my life more than anyone else. You are the only one who knows me, who knows Hob Gadling, the rough, foolish mercenary who bragged about never dying. Who raised himself from the dirt of the poor just to fall back down again, deeper than ever before. Rise and fall, and rise again only to be put in my place by you again - and rightfully so.

In 1889 I had finally managed to find some middle ground, feeling safe enough to finally be honest with you - at least partially. And it all blew up in my face.

I should have known, really. Your relaxed smiles for the last centuries were too good to be true. I shouldn’t have trusted my gut and spilled some of the beans. But it had been lonely the last few decades and I thought we had reached an understanding. I thought I knew you, if not as well as you have to know me by now, but enough to take that leap of faith.

I leapt. And you let me fall I fell again. I should be used to it by now, one might think. But when it’s you nothing is simple and the stakes are so much higher.Do you know what you mean to me? Your name is written on a wall inside my heart and I don’t think that any amount of alcohol can wash it away. And I don’t even know it. I don’t know your name but it’s in there, and it’s not coming off. I know. I tried. Although it hurts that you stood me up, I believe that you’ll come back to meet me one day. I will believe in you, no matter what. I have to, for there is no other constant in my life but you. I have to hope.

‘You’re the only one who really knew me at all, and you coming back to me is against all odds, but it’s a chance I’ve got to take’, like Phil says.

Dream does not know who Phil is, but a quick glance at the general human subconscious reveals the quoted words as part of a song by an artist Hob seems to be referring to. Dream perceives the song’s lyrics and its general feeling and swallows heavily. It appears to be an apt choice for Hob’s current emotional state. He reads the last few words while the notes of the song linger in his mind.

So I’ll be here when you’re ready. I hope you know how to find me when they inevitably tear the old place down, but I guess you do. I hope so. I really hope so. I just want to know that you’re okay. I need to know that I’m not alone. There are others like me, I’ve met some. But it’s not the same. No one is like you. No one is as

Please come back

The words cut off abruptly, Hob having clearly been too tired to write more. Dream’s newly reclaimed powers put everything in much sharper relief. Shutting off the flow of emotions from the subconscious comes both easier and harder somehow. Pulling himself back into this singular humanoid shape at Hob’s bedside takes a particular effort he had forgotten since he furnished his ruby. It is not hard, but a task he has to accustom himself to again. Dream pauses for several minutes, quite literally collecting himself, unsure of his next actions.

He looks at Hob again. His face is slack in his sleep, relaxed and calm. Dream only glances at Hob’s dreams to ascertain if they are calm or troubled but finds nothing too upsetting. He does not want to intrude further than he already has so he keeps himself from viewing his friend’s dreams.

His friend. Friend. The word that had sent Dream running in affront a century ago. Despite himself, struck by a sudden urge to talk to Hob, Dream inhales sharply and silently sits down on the chair in front of the open notebook. He carefully picks up the pen and sets it to the empty paper below Hob’s own words.

My friend.

I apologise for missing our meeting

I owe you more than one apology. You were correct in your assessment the last time we met. I was am lonely. With one word you dismantled my defences and left me too vulnerable to bear at the time. I was rude to you, and I regretted my words as soon as I had left you. However, as you well know, I am a prideful, stubborn being. Strange, to be able to admit it so easily now. I’ve always known it, and you’re not the first to call me out on it, but of course I would never have allowed anyone who talked to me like that to speak to me again. So I told you I’d leave you, not able to accept that you were, ARE, my friend.

And that I need you, like you need me

I have not forgotten you, Hob Gadling. I do not forget anyone. You are cradled in the vastness of my being like every other mind, your story preserved for all time. This, of course, you cannot know, as I have never introduced myself to you. Again, something I’d like to apologise for. I will, however, endeavour to give you my name in person, and soon.

I would have done so today yesterday, but. For some reason I cannot name I felt unable to approach you or enter our usual meeting place. I know you waited and I am deeply sorry for troubling you.

You have indeed made an impact on my life. Maybe not in the same way I did on yours, but nonetheless our meetings have become something I look forward to. You surely wonder why I never told you who I am. I was not able to admit it a hundred years ago, but to meet you, who knows nothing of my role and my duties, is freeing in a way nothing else is in my existence. You look upon me as your friend, and nothing else. You cannot imagine how much I enjoy the time spent in your presence, listening to your accounts of the last century.

I could not

I was unable to experience much of human history over the last century. This has left me with a certain uneasiness in regards to humanity. I would humbly ask for your patience, once again. As I am trying to gather the courage find the time to gather the courage to meet you in person. Perhaps this book can provide a form of communication, for the time being.

Sincerely, your old friend

Dream drops the pen like it’s burning his fingers and rises swiftly, stepping back from the table and notebook before he can rip out the page he has written in a fit of panic. He has revealed far more than he intended to but it is only fair to leave Hob these words, after what he has put him through.

Dream allows himself one last look at Hob, still sleeping peacefully, before returning back to the Dreaming. There is much to think about. His reluctance to interact with humanity cannot stand if he is to perform his function. Walking with Death has helped him put things in perspective again but he still fears. What? What does he have to fear? He has no need for humans liking him. As he examines his feelings and his earlier short interactions with humans on his way to the White Horse, Dream realises that he does not care about all humans. He only cares about how Hob perceives him.

Perhaps knowing that he had to introduce himself this time, clearly owing it to his friend, Dream had been afraid of losing Hob’s easy camaraderie. Surely exposing himself as Endless will have a pruning effect on Hob’s relaxed and friendly demeanour. Dream does not want that. But perhaps… No. He will wait for Hob’s reply in his notebook, if it comes. Should he choose to answer Dream, he will then decide how to proceed further. Surely any speculation right now is fruitless.

Trying to put the matter out of his mind for now, Dream goes to resume his work. He is aware enough to know that fear of Hob’s reaction was not the only reason he didn’t enter the White Horse. He needs to work through some things. Perhaps some new nightmares made of planes of suffocating glass will help him put some things behind him.

[Spoiler: of course they won’t, oh honey 🥺]

Part 2

#my friends and I used to write to each other in notebooks and exchange it back and forth #(that was before mobile phones so it was the ancient way of texting your bff the random shit you think of at night)#I will probably write more for this #dreamling #the sandman fanfiction #teejay writes #1989 au

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chayscribbles-archive · 5 years ago

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so i uhhhh started writing an “apocalypse diary” for Peach

#me: i should write my own apocalypse diary #me five minutes later: what if i wrote one for Peach instead and just self-projected #it actually makes sense that Peach would do this as she is a storyteller at heart #the first part is the inscription Teejay wrote when he gave her the notebook for her birthday #tib extras #peach's apocalypse diary

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teejaystumbles · 2 years ago

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AAAAAAAAH OH MY GOD THIS IS SO GOOD!! So much better than I could have imagined it!!!! The garden, the sea with all the shells, the perfect roses ❤️ Hob!!! Dream's little sigh!! Thank you so much!!!! 🥰💜💜💜💜

DREAMLING AU ↳ the storms of life by @teejaystumbles

#im gonna stare at this for an hour now #gif set #my fic #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream x hob #the sandman fanfiction #teejay writes

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alien-bodies · 6 years ago

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whos this wanker

its me

Tagged by @gemvictorfromtheponyverse AND @the-deca, 2 FRESH pals bless thank

The real title is “get to know the blogger” but it’s 1am and I can’t copy more than 1 paragraph on mobile so I’m manually typin this bish!!! Gotta have fun!!!

name

ian

star sign

My mom went to the hospital 10 days past my due date and got labour induced bc I’d been in there TOO long it was TIME to GET OUT. Incidentally this was the last day of Taurus and 16 hours before Gemini began. Make of that what u will

height

In this house we round it up to 5’3”

put ur Spotify on shuffle and say the first 4 songs that show up

I share this account with my mom so I’m cheating ok we get

Frame of Mind by Tristam

Choke by IDKHBTFM (i am NOT typing that shit out are u kidding me)

Hit and Run by LOLO (HEY it’s me from the future where I finished this post. This has been stuck in my head for 20 minutes but I’m TURNT so it’s fine but also I have class in 8 hours so it’s not fine)

Dear Wormwood by The Oh Hellos (HEY again. This song for REAL showed up on shuffle I wasn’t lyin in that book question lower down This Really Exists get on my level)

have u ever had a poem or song written about you?

KIND OF YES ok I post on Facebook relentlessly and one time my dad was late coming home bc whatever and dinner was shrimp fettuccine alfredo like UHHHH YUM so I posted “Make haste father / We must partake of the shrimp fettuccine / Make haste” and my friend who makes music (goodnightgirl on Bandcamp) made a song of it bc she was so inspired I was HONOURED

when was the last time you played the guitar?

In grade 9 social studies class we had an assignment that was to make an album cover and track list about the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms and at the time I wanted to go into film and other Tech Stuff so instead of doing something fuckin normal like writing down “Jingle My Equality” in coloured pencil and calling it a day I kept working over winter break and wrote and recorded 8 songs including the whack-ass instrumentation using only a headset, my laptop, and Audacity. The last couple days of winter break I tried to learn some guitar cords to try and make it sound at least a little alright but I absolutely did not sing in any real key I just fucked around in my closet so that fell through real quick and the strongest instrument backup went to random tooting on my mom’s recorder

I never picked up a guitar again and those songs haunt me to this day

celebrity crush

We All Gay For Jodie Whittaker This Season

a sound you hate and a sound you love

I passionately hate when my neighbour operates his leaf blower

I love the ping sound the custom bot makes during a word war in my regional NaNoWriMo group chat, it triggers something nice and good in my brain bc it always happens when I’m writing words and having fun so even when I think the sound. I’m Good

do you believe in ghosts?

only when I’m on the clock bc my manager can see ghosts and says our Hot Topic is haunted and who am I to argue with that

aliens?

dude hell yeah

do you drive?

dude hell nah

last book you read?

fuckin. I read The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis

I’d elaborate but that’d take longer to explain than the guitar story, so TL;DR gay analysis plus folk fanfiction album

worst injury you’ve had?

My friend broke my arm in grade 4 when we went tubing at a birthday party because she’s a speed demon and fell on top of it

any obsessions rn?

Don’t @ me

do you try to hold grudges against people who have wronged you?

This is such a weird questionnaire first of all, second of all like no I don’t try but there’s one fucker out there,,, hey brxen.prxnce if u reading this block me on ravelry bitch (theres no k because theyre a doofus plain and simple)

in a relationship?

I sure ain’t but i got some dank fic recs hmu

That’s a wrap I’m tagging anyone who read this and understood what “Dear Wormwood” was referencing and/or if you’ve watched an episode of TJLCE those are tonight’s moods thank you goodnight

#THANKS for tagging me m8s #y’all know how much i love talking abt myself in a funney way #my academic writing prof told me to look up David Sedaris bc our writing styles are similar in a good way #and lemme tell you. Turns out talking abt myself in a funney way is a viable career path #ianposting #my brain is currently 50% Hit and Run by LOLO playing over that Mads Mikkelsen image #is this gonna show up in the teejay elsie tag #SORRY LADS #KEEP SCROLLIN

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manicpixiedreamboots · 7 years ago

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There's this story concept I've been flirting with, and I've hit a block with it. It's set on an island devastated by a recent natural disaster, and its remaining infrastructure is overseen by a military compound. There is a local rebel force that is taking advantage of the disaster to try and take control of the island away from the mainland, and they send a spy into the compound. Over the course of about a year, she starts sympathizing with the enemy, and eventually turns on the rebels. (1/2)

(2/2) The spy turns mainly because she realizes that the rebels will make things much worse for the island if they destabilize its current chain of command. I don’t have much world building set up yet, or any characters TBH, but I like the core idea. My problem is, I’m not sure how I’d write it without it turning into some kind of social/political commentary, some “gov’t good/civilian rebels bad” kind of thing, but more of a Wrong Methods Wrong Time kind of story. Any advice about that?

OMG I AM SO SORRY I DIDN’T GET A NOTIFICATION FOR THIS AND SO I DIDN’T SEE IT AND AHHH!!!! So so sorry it’s taken 12 days for a reply!

Hmmm interesting dilemma, I love the concept!! I think I would approach it by building up your spy character. Write the story with her perspective changing through her experiences, so she then has to report back to the rebels and change their minds. She needs to see both sides and make rational decisions, while maintaining her authenticity. If you make her suddenly completely switch sides, then it’ll be more “gov’t good/civilian rebels bad" So focus instead on the inner struggle with the good vs evil that she personally experiences. She doesn’t have to be completely unbiased and she will be influenced by her surroundings.. but if you build her up as a really strong character your story will form around her.

Goodluck and I hope you keep writing! :D

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teejaystumbles · 5 months ago

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Someone probably already did this but I did it for myself again: Because I couldn't help myself I went and read Sandman presents: Dead Boy Detectives and collected these other tidbits about Hob Gadling's history. If you consider it canon is up to everyone individually since Neil Gaiman didn't write this comic but I like to try and collect as many possible historical bits about Hob that I can so

Apparantly he went around Europe posing as the Count of Saint Germaine in the 18th century, eventually fleeing Gilles de Rais (that's the guy up there who wants to steal his immortality) and faking his death in 1784.

(if you're wondering about the names here, the real de Rais is telling Edwin and Charles about Hob as if he was Gilles de Rais himself, he's switching his and Hob's histories/names for his own sake)

Saint Germaine is said to have been around making waves since 1745. Which makes me think about how much he was actually involved in the transatlantic slave trade? Did he return to London and just pick it up for the next five years before meeting with Dream? Or did he have investments for several decades prior, something he would not have been able to return to easily if he switched identities again in 1784?

Later de Rais shows the boys a photograph from New Year's Eve 1926 of Hob and, as is revealed, his then or future wife Margaret

who he apparently maybe even had a child with???? The tombstone says "beloved wife and mother".

So I'm very excited about this but also I can't see him having children and the whole family thing again? But maybe comic authors simply disagree and see Hob as an immortal who has come to terms with outliving his loved ones. He would have had to, eventually.

As for Gilles de Rais, I wonder if he heard about Hob only when the Count of Saint Germaine showed up, or if he might have met him earlier. De Rais has been around since the 15th century, he might have met Hob in the battles in France and recognized him later, thus discovering that the Count was indeed not lying about his immortality...

Anyway, my mind is already reeling and thinking of rewriting this story for my witch!Hob AU, maybe even with the Netflix Dead Boys included 👀🤔

(the comics dead boys are quite different from the tv series and I'm not sure I like it/I can't make them be the same in my head. I like the series version better)

Also, the most fun fact from this is that Mad Hettie calls the immortals "them who're long in the tooth" and now I just think about Hob having a "Long Tooth Night" at the New Inn every year, to catch up with other immortals (and also hoping his stranger would show up)

wanted to share this with the netflix Sandman fans who may not have seen it.

Hob's immediate reaction upon waking up in a creepy torture dungeon is to call for Dream for help, then promise his captor will "never wake up from [his] nightmares" do with this information what you will

#hob gadling #dead boy detectives #the sandman #dbda comics spoilers #dc #teejay writes #kinda because reference for myself

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bardicfool · 4 years ago

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Day 19: The In-Between

Author: @ditzysworld

Genre: paranormal/post-apocalyptic

What first piqued my interest: Honestly, I’ve seen so many cool posts with excerpts, mood boards, and worldbuilding details, I’m not sure how I first got pulled into this one. But I stayed for the sibling shenanigans, snappy dialogue, and Epic Paranormal Event(s).

What I want to learn more about: What caused the shift? What happened to Baby when she disappeared? How will the Arroyo kids navigate their familial relationship after five very hard years of separation? And how concerned do I need to be about this “character death” tag? 😟

What I’m excited about: Did I mention SIBLING SHENANIGANS?? Baby, Teejay, and Peach are all fully realized, charismatic characters, and I’m super excited to see how they change and grow. Also, I love me some shady government/military organizations I definitely didn’t write one of those myself or anything

WIP Intro Post

—

The WIP Shout-Out Project is a challenge I created for myself to give a brief virtual high-five to one WIP every day in July. While these shout-outs aren’t super in-depth, I’m hoping they’ll still help spread a little love and encouragement to the writeblr community. If you want to follow along, I’ve tagged all related posts #wip shout-out. Feel free to give your own shout-outs, too!

#wip shout-out #wip: the in-between #ditzysworld #writeblr community #writeblr

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deduezine · 4 years ago

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Get to know our Mod Team! First up is our lovely head mod and financial mod, Sydney! Second is our amazingly talented graphic mod, Mars! Next is our fabulous writing mod, TeeJay! More to be announced soon.

#FireEmblem #FireEmblemThreeHouses #FE3H #BlueLions #Dedue #FanZine #Zine #ModTeam

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heart-eyes-kippen · 5 years ago

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not to project or anything but like tj sends cyrus one direction lyrics at random times and cyrus is like ‘okay i mean ur cute bUT ITS 2AM GO THE HECK TO SLEEP’

and when i say one direction lyrics i mean the CHEESIEST ones ever about romance and love bc tj is smitten wbk!!!!!

here are some exchanges that are 100% canon (all occurring between the hours of 12am and 4am except for the last one, which is at 3pm)

tj: i wanna write you a song

tj: one that’s beautiful as you are sweetttt

cyrus: tj u don’t know how to write songs go back to bed

tj: 😢😢😢

cyrus: ily!!

tj: 🥰🥰🥰

tj: and all i can dooo

tj: is say that these arms were made for holding youuu

cyrus: zzzzz

tj: HEY i know ur not asleep 😡

cyrus: zzzzz

tj: appreciate my lyrics :(((

cyrus: zzzzz

tj: fine guess u just lost ur hand-holding privileges

cyrus: OKAY okay i appreciate ur one direction lyrics

tj: 🥰🌈✨💗💓💕

tj: ohh baby this is not an illusionnn

tj: there’s magic between you and meeee

cyrus: TEEJAY close ur eyes this instant and start cuddling me again

tj: i’m literally still cuddling you

cyrus: cuddle me more then >:-(

tj: ur the cutest

cyrus: no u

tj: no U

tj: okay i’m putting my phone away before this turns into another thing

cyrus: good idea bc i can go forever 😌

tj: you and iiii, we don’t wanna be like them

tj: we can make it till the endddd

tj: no nothing can between you and iiii

cyrus: okay i’ll let that slide bc i like that song

tj: TASTE

tj: u get free baby taters tomorrow just for that

cyrus: ...i also like every one direction song to exist ever

tj: don’t push ur luck cy 😡

cyrus: ugh fine

tj: i love uuu, get some sleep

cyrus: says the one texting me at 2am

cyrus: (i love u too)

tj: i don’t care what people say when we’re together

tj: you know i wanna be the one who holds you when you sleepppp

cyrus: i could actually use that rn ngl 😔

tj: bet, i’ll be right over

cyrus: tj what

cyrus: tj???

cyrus: omg-

tj: i wanna be last, yeah, baby let me be your, let me your last first kisssss

cyrus: i’m right next to u >:-(

tj: and??

cyrus: soooo

cyrus: kiss me

cyrus: if u want

tj: 🥺❤️

tj: okay i’m done with my phone now

tj: they don’t know about the things we do, they won’t about the ‘i love you’s’

tj: but i betcha if they only knew, they would just be jealous of us

cyrus: omg okay i can get behind these during the day

cyrus: they don’t know about the up all nightssss

tj: they don’t know i’ve waiTED ALL MY LIFE

cyrus: JUST TO FIND A LOVE THAT FEELS THIS RIGHTT

tj: baby they don’t know about (they don’t know about) usss

cyrus: a virtual duet wow

tj: i love us

cyrus: i love YOU

tj: thats gay

cyrus: >:-((

tj: okaaay, i love you too 🥺❤️

cyrus: :-))))

#it’s soft hours guys #i love them #tyrus #andi mack

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