secret, secret, i got a secret.

[cons]

ACCIDENTAL MESSAGE MEME
Ever write a note or a text or an IM that you never meant to let anyone ever see, but somehow, someway,
it was discovered? Maybe it was a love confession, or a brutally honest opinion, or your well-written plan to kill off your much hated boss. Either way, it's been found! And read! The horrors!!!

Well, this exact thing just happened to your character.

RULES:
1. post a blank comment with your character's name/fandom in the subject line.
2. bop around to other people's threads, leaving just the message you never intended them (or anyone!) to see.
(include somewhere if it's a letter/email/IM/text/etc.)
3. original thread-poster: write out your character finding the note/their reaction! and let the insanity ensue.

NOTES:
- HERE is a link to a post-it note generator, if you're into that.
- notes don't have to be relevant to anything, even weird/random confessions could be fun to play out. just tag around!
- if you want, include what sort of interactions you're looking for in the subject line (positive, negative, romantic, etc.), that might give new taggers ideas for notes that your character should find.
- HAVE FUN. >:]

Comments

Fo sho, amigo.

[alifeordinary]

[Yeah, highest quality phone his ass. It's a three hundred dollar brick. If it's too damn humid, it'll seize up and flop like a brick in a pool. Or like a phone in a pool. Or like a phone turned into a brick by getting wet in a pool.

That may be a case of phone envy. He got one of those crappy slide phones that doesn't have a touchscreen or autocorrect. Then again, he never accidentally told someone he was running late for cock instead of running late for work, so he figures autocorrect can shove it.

Still, that second text automatically makes him feel guilty for being a dick about it. He shouldn't be so relieved by that. At all. He has no claims to stake, and it suck that things didn't work out with who Dean's assuming is his ex- but really isn't.

He starts to reply with wanna talk about it, but can practically feel himself growing a vagina, so stops that one before he even gets half way through typing it.]

Shit like that usually is.

[By which he means things you have to lie and sneak around to do. If he knew it was a family thing, well... that's the one thing he'd be understanding about, really. Not like he talks about his family so much anymore, though Sam... well, Sam's a hard point to miss, considering the last time he was over, he was red-eyed, shaking, and muttering to himself like a man possessed.

Dean didn't get a lot of sleep that night.]

You coming home?

<333

[nevermojoed]

[Shit like that...? Jesus christ, how much does Dean know? Cas frowns at his phone, wondering if maybe he'd let more slip than he remembers the last time they'd gotten shitfaced together. He knows Dean's pissed about the sneaking around but... That's cold. Also true, at least where his family is concerned, so he can't be too upset about the bluntness.]

Yeah well I kinda knew that going in. I don't know why I thought things would be different this time, I guess today's just another day for them.

[He's in the middle of typing up his response when the second message comes through, and he actually smiles a bit at the reminder that even though this place he's standing in front of isn't home anymore, he's not completely fucked. At least he has someone to go back to, even if--

Nope, not going there. Dean's his roommate and his friend, and he's perfectly satisfied with that. He sends the first message off and then sends another:]

Yeah, just as soon as I find something to leave a nasty note on the door with. Should be on my way to the airport in a few hours, cemetery closes when the sun goes down. Gonna try to get an earlier flight back.

[He sighs, feeling guilty for lying, even though he imagines if anyone should understand, it'd be Dean. He doesn't know all of the details surrounding his brother, just what Dean'd told him after the poor kid had showed up, shaking and strung out and desperate. It'd been kind of hard to ignore that, though he'd tried not to push too hard.

Sliding his phone into his pocket, he makes his way down the sloping driveway to the rental car and digs around for anything that will enable him to leave tangible proof of his aggravation, mentally kicking himself for continuing to do this even though he knows the result will never change.]

We have so many threads going right now

[alifeordinary]

[Wiat- them? What kind of fucked up- it would be just like Cas to be in some sort of Mormon three-way relationship. Or the ex has a new fellow. Or he's... totally off the mark for what this is, which presents a whole new puzzle he can't even begin to figure out.

It might be a family thing- he didn't even think, and now he feels like an even bigger asshole. The second text comes through as though to confirm, and he furrows his brow. Cas doesn't talk about his family- not really. Not ever. They've been exceedingly drunk a few times and he's let a few things slip, usually followed by a beat of contemplative silence, the saddest damn eyes you've ever seen, and a quiet change of subject.

Dean knows he has a large family. That Cas is detached from them. He's concluded that they're a bunch of douchebags, mostly based on his own personal bias. Who could be a dick to Cas? Cas was lovely. He was smart, compassionate, thoughtful- granted, he had a bit of a thing for pot and sex, but that was no reason to run him out of the family. And if he had to guess, the drugs came after the fact. He's not sure, though, and he doesn't press for more just like Cas doesn't ask about Sam, or John, or Mary. Painful subjects.]

Fuck planes. Pee on their doorstep Im sure theyll get the memo. 

[Whether it's his ex, his exes, or his family, either way, it's apparently bad enough that he felt the need to lie. And the word cemetery strikes at him, there, too, and damn, does he feel like a massive dick.

He should be... not a dick. Without including the words 'fuck' or 'wanna talk about it?']

Sorry Cas. 

Loool that we do :P

[nevermojoed]

[He doesn't check his phone again until he's made his way back to the shitty rental car in the cemetery parking lot, more than a little bit worn out from the sheer amount of talking he'd done. He knows it's not like she can hear him, but he talks anyway. About life, such as it is, about how he misses his brothers, misses her, wishes he'd done things differently sometimes...

He'd talked about Dean, too... Though he's already said it once and so there's no point in repeating it, not even in his head. It'd been hard enough the first time.

He hadn't been expecting an answer, obviously, but he'd talked just the same, and honestly? It'd helped, if only a little bit. He doesn't pray anymore, doesn't see the point, but old habits die hard and it would seem he just hasn't grown out of the need to just talk and hope someone's listening, even when all evidence points to waste of time. It's not something he can change any more than the colour of his eyes or the fact that this rental car is really, really shitty.

He's leaning against said rental car, waiting for the sun to go down completely like he always does, when his phone vibrates in his pocket, startling him out of his contemplative state; it's only an email, some spam about an Indian prince who wants to marry him and give him $500 cash (but only if he sends his bank account information right now!), but it does serve to alert his attention to the texts he'd received... About two hours ago. Fuck.

His lips twitch into a small smile at the first message, and for a split second he actually considers swinging by and doing just that before he heads back to the airport... It's just a passing fantasy, not something he'd ever actually do-- surprisingly enough, he does still have some respect left in there, just enough to keep him from ever really doing all of those crazy things he'd love to do. Like taking a leak on his family's doorstep. The second message, well... What can he say? He's sorry too, for lying, and for this whole fucked up situation. Sliding the keyboard open, he sends off a message before depositing himself into the rental car and backing over the crunchy gravel onto the road.]

No problem. You'll have to come with next time and do it for me, I don't have the stones. En route to the airport now, keep your fingers crossed for an earlier flight. I don't wanna be stuck here any longer than I need to be

That's hilariously amazingly awful.

[alifeordinary]

[It crossed his mind to be paranoid at the lack of response, but Cas wasn't likely to get pissed and give him the silent treatment over any of his dicky responses. He worries, a little, mostly because of the cemetery comment- funeral? Who died? More over, who died that was significant enough to lie to him about? A little affronted, actually, that Cas didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth, but death is hard, and family is harder.

He packs up, heads over to Ellen's for dinner. It's nice to see Jo and Bobby, and Sam shows up, too. That's... less nice, because he asks to borrow fifty bucks before dinner, and makes an announcement during the actual meal that him and Ruby are moving in together.

It's met with silence, for about five minutes, and then the fight starts.

And it doesn't end, not really, Dean just gives up and storms out, slamming the door shut behind him. Always a nice way to end a family gathering. It takes him another twenty after the texts come in to answer them, because he's half afraid it's Sam. Continuing the argument or apologizing, it doesn't matter, they'd both suck just as much.

He answers them, finally, laying in bed and staring up at the ceiling.]

Ill pee on anybody you need me to pee on, buddy, but were not taking a goddam plane to do it. we can road trip it. worlds largest ball of string in nebraska. good stuff.

8'D

[nevermojoed]

[Cas's drive to the airport is uneventful, he just throws some of his calmer music on- his only option, really, because airport security means no fun of any kind at all- turns on his phone's GPS so he doesn't have to think about anything, and zones out, time passing in a blur of exit signs and mack trucks. His phone buzzes at some point on the way, flashing briefly with another message, but checking it would mean turning the GPS off, and he's directionally retarded enough without the emotional turmoil, and certainly not in the mood to get lost and extend this little excursion any longer than necessary. He just wants to go home.

The women at the rental car desk are surprisingly accommodating; they don't charge him for the two extra days he'd rented it for-just in case, you know- which leaves him some extra cash to spend during the five fucking hours he learns he'll have to wait for the next available flight. He pulls out his phone once he's found a bar that looks like as good a place to any to wait it out, and taps out a quick message as he orders himself a shot. Or three, whatever, five hours is a long fucking time.

He smiles a bit at the message.]

True friendship right there. Moving, really. All that AND a huge ball of string?

[It's a sarcastic response, but the sentiment is genuine. He takes the first shot, then the second... And then realizes that an update on his travel situation is probably in order.]

No amount of asskissing at the ticket counter could free up a seat, apparently so it looks like I'm camping out at the bar for the next five hours or so. Fuck this trip

[Sighing, he eyes that last shot before downing it and ordering a beer. Pacing is key-- It would really just be the cherry on top of this wonderful day if he got alcohol poisoning here of all places... He wonders if that'd be enough to get their attention, if they'd even come to get him... Not a snowball's chance, and so he decides it's best to err on the side of caution, just this once.

He rolls his shoulders moodily; this is going to be a very, very long five hours...]