bakerstreet | secret, secret, i got a secret.

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. >:]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[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.

[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...]

secret, secret, i got a secret.

That's hilariously amazingly awful.

8'D