you may see a stranger

Do you remember the time you fell down on your knees and begged the world to stop spinning? Love, it happened. You made it happen. On nights when crying was your only option, you closed your eyes and imagined your room to be filled with stars. The world stopped moving. All you could hear was your breathing. “Let the world claim you tonight,” you whispered to yourself. You found solace. You met Melancholy the first time, then and there, you knew you were alive. The moment you opened your eyes, the world was set to motion. And all you could utter were the words ‘I am alive.’

Your grandmother was right when she told you that you love too much. But look at where it got you. You have made a garden out of the barren land next door. You created a night sky filled with words of love. You have tucked the littlest hope and care in other people’s pockets. You have given away all of your flowers in bloom in hopes of erasing the pain in their eyes. You gave away all of yourself, and love, that’s okay. Go and give some more. Give and give and give until you learn how to let go.

There will be days when waking up is as hard as getting out of bed while the rain hums you to sleep. There will be a lot of meals that will go to waste and yet you will feel as heavy as the world being pulled to oblivion. It’s okay. Let yourself feel the heaviness of the loneliness. Of the world’s snarky remarks. Of the anxiety and panic attacks. Feel. Feel some more. Do not be afraid of tasting the blood. Do not run away from the depth of the ocean. Let the world swallow you whole and you will wake up, one day, with strength you never thought was possible.

Fall in love over and over and over again. May it be with the budding flower you see on the street. The stranger you met in the pedestrian lane with sad eyes. The children’s laughter. Everything. Fall in love with the littlest thing. Give your heart to that guy who told you 'Thank you for choosing me.“ Love the man who have shown you what it means to be weak, how it feels to be held in someone’s arms. Kiss him and make him remember your name in his mouth. Be honest about the things you feel because it’s not everyday you find people who see you behind your armor. Be weak. Be vulnerable. Go and fall in love some more.

You will survive. And you will continue counting the moving stars.

—  an open letter to my younger self // hbg
What Strangers See

Hey guys! As you may or may not know, I am currently on holiday travelling through Europe. I didn’t plan on writing while away, because I tend to put a lot of criticism on my own stories thus making it slightly stressful. (Although I am definitely reading all the new fics coming out :))
However, at this very moment I am on a train in one of those compartments like on the Hogwarts Express, except instead of moving towards our destination (or having anything magical happen) we’re stranded in the middle of the Swedish countryside because of a cable fire in a tunnel. So…since I had the time and the wifi I busted out this random one shot in a sitting of maybe 20 minutes? It’s a whole lot of nothing, but I hope you enjoy regardless. xx

“What are you smiling at, girl?” Finn sets down their drinks and pulls his chair closer to hers before sitting down.
“Just people watching” Rae turns to him briefly before looking back to the busy London street.

They’re sat outside, on the patio of some random cafe. It’s their five month anniversary and Finn had showed up at hers with a mixtape and an overnight bag, asking if she wanted to take a ride. He was all ready to make his case; argue that it was bank holiday weekend, that he had filled the back seat with crisps and water, that Linda and Karim were out of town anyway, his fallback being to confess just how desperate he was to have her completely to himself. Turns out all his careful planning to get his words right was for naught, and he was hit with a surge of pride when she said yes with zero hesitation. She’d come along way, his girl.

“See those two there?” Rae asks, as she nods her head in the direction of a boy and girl around their age stood outside a shop. “What do you think their story is?”
Finn looks at the shy way the boy looks at the girl, how his head dips to talk closer to her ear. His hands are in his pockets but his whole body leans towards her. “He likes her but she doesn’t see it yet.”
“How do you reckon that?”
Finn shrugs and takes a sip of his Coke. “Looks like us when we first started.”
“Oh, so he’s a dickhead and thinks she’s annoying?”
“Well ONE of those things is still true…” Finn laughs as he pulls her by the neck to plant a kiss in her hair.
“Oi!” Rae pinches the flesh of his thigh before scrunching her nose at him and turning back to the road. “Alright, Mr. Observant. Explain that” she juts her chin at an older man wearing a shirt and tie with cowboy boots, carrying a large sack of kitty litter over one shoulder.
“Easy. Giving up his office job to start a cat farm.”
“Right,” Rae agrees. “Only explanation.”

They go on like this for a long while, making up random stories to match the random strangers passing by.
Finn thinks a serious looking group of business people are actually MI6, scouting the area for a crooked arms dealer.
Rae jokes that the squad of power walking pensioners are off to some underground seniors-only night club. “Reckon that one in the matching track suit has a crop top and mini hidden underneath?” She asks seriously. That makes Finn nearly do a spit take as he chokes on his laughter, and he adds this memory to his mental file of ‘times Rae’s made him love her more’. (It’s a big file, even by imaginary standards.)
“Well girl, you’d know what that would look like wouldn’t ya? Old people peeper and all…” Finn trails off and guffaws when Rae slaps his bicep hard.
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you about that! Ugh now I’m picturing Mrs. Dewhurst all sweaty at the rave,” Rae covers her eyes and shudders a groan which sets him off again.
Finn points out a nervous looking man who keeps patting down his pockets and says he’s probably about to propose, and Rae thinks the look on his girlfriend’s face says the answer will be a resounding no.
Rae clocks a handsome lad carrying a large stack of books and all Finn can come up with is that “Archie would find him well fit” and “should we get his number or summat?” Which earns him a giant grin and a kiss on the cheek from Rae.
A young bloke wearing trackie bottoms tucked in socks passes by, and they over hear him boisterously telling a dick joke that earns nothing but eye rolls and sniggers from his mates. Finn and Rae turn to each other simultaneously and say “London Chop!” in unison before they’re both in a fit of giggles.
Then Rae is slapping Finn’s shoulder with the back of her hand when she spots a “fucking Damon Albarn doppelgänger” walking their way. She teases that he doesn’t need to have the talent if he has the face and pretends to stand. Finn pulls her back and chuckles like it’s no big deal, but by the time fake-Damon gets to them Rae is too distracted by Finn suckling her neck to notice. His arm doesn’t leave her waist after that.

When their food comes, they separate to either sides of the table and now their game has shifted to the other customers at the cafe. Finn tilts his head to one side to indicate a girl with long ginger hair sitting alone near them.
“What about her, reckon she’s waiting for a date?” His voice is low so the girl doesn’t hear.
Rae seems to stiffen a bit, before pushing her plate away from her. “Doubt it.”
“Huh, why not?” Finn looks over at the stranger again. She’s wearing a flowery dress and makeup, and her eyelashes are fluttering quicker than necessary as she continuously tosses her hair over her shoulder. From the girls at college Finn knows these are tell tale signs.
“Because she’s been eyeing you up since she sat down” Rae explains, her head cast low.
Finn’s ears go red, because now that Rae’s said it he picks up on the way the redhead keeps glancing at him, sending him a flirty smile when their eyes meet. Finn clears his throat and looks away, his hand instinctively moving to grab Rae’s across the table. It’s not there though, and he frowns when he sees how uncomfortable she looks. She’s curled up in to herself and that carefree attitude from minutes ago has drained from her sad but beautiful face.

The sight makes Finn’s chest hurt. There is no way he wants anyone else, she must know that. Fuck, he barely even notices anyone else anymore; doesn’t even remember a time before his vision was tunnelled by expressive eyes and dark hair and spectacular tits. Not to mention the fact that he’s so in love with her he sometimes has to wonder if he’s still sane. He hasn’t told her yet (the thought alone makes his lungs tighten and his fingers tremble) but, God, does he feel it. Once, when they were alone at the pub, Archie asked him what being in love felt like. Finn just shrugged and said “brilliant” because he wasn’t drunk enough to explain that it’s this all consuming thing in his veins that gets carried to his heart, only to be pumped back into every nerve of his body.
It’s scary, what he feels for Rae (and not just because it makes him agree with all the cheesy lyrics those Backstreet Boys sing). Terrifying, actually, because Finn doesn’t think he’d survive if she ever left (and he’s had enough of people leaving). So when he sees how rigid she’s gone, how her gaze has dropped to her lap as she readjusts her clothes, a strange thrill fills him because maybe she feels the same way. The same intensity, the same fear.

“Rae. Hey. Girl, look at me” Finn wraps his legs around one of hers under the table. Rae lifts her eyes but her head is still lowered. “See that couple over there?” Finn asks, shifting his eyes to the right. Rae peeks past her curtain of hair to the other table and then back at Finn. “They’re playing the same game. What do you think they see when they look at us?”
Rae furrows her brow, then turns her whole head to look at the couple, who are indeed looking at them. She makes eye contact with the woman and receives a kind, wide smile. Rae turns to look back at Finn, but his seat is empty. She feels a presence at her side and shifts to see he’s pulled a chair right up to hers, his back to the redhead. Finn’s one hand reaches over to trail his fingers down her back, while the other clutches at her fisted hands in her lap.
“Dunno, probably wondering why we’re together” Rae mumbles.
“Yeah maybe,” his tiny pause is enough to see her face cloud over with hurt “they can tell that you’re WAAAAAAAAAAAY too good for me” he finishes with a wink. Rae’s eyes roll back sarcastically, but they’re also sparkling and Finn’s so glad it’s not from tears.
He leans in closer, a hairs breadth away from her ear, his nose and lips brushing against her gently. “I think what they see is how fucking crazy I am about you.” He’s whispering but his voice and meaning are firm. Rae blushes and drops her gaze again, but this time she’s smiling.
“Such a sap” she replies, halfheartedly pushing him away.
“It’s our anniversary, I get to be sappy” Finn counters, his voice no longer hushed. He wants the whole place to know he’s celebrating with this girl, his girl.
“Yeah, and what’s your excuse every other day?” Rae teases, her finger making its way through one of the empty button holes on his flannel.
“Love,” he answers immediately. Rae’s stunned by that, and Finn’s a little shocked himself, but it was automatic and honest. They stare at each other frozen, both guarded hearts growing soggy as they soak in the heavy word that’s just slipped out. After the moment has passed, Rae is still silent so Finn guides her face to his so he can kiss her until she feels what the strangers can see.


As usual, let me know if you want to be added or removed!


Close As Strangers Series (ongoing) 

You and Peter have been best friends all throughout high school. Senior year was about to end and you’ve finally admitted to yourself that you’ve fallen in love with Peter. However, Peter may not see you the same way…

Close As Strangers Pt. 1/? 

Falling For You (literally)  [Pt. 2] 

A Web Hammock? [Pt. 3]

Change [Pt. 4]

going on your first date with peter

4-hour follow-up to ‘Can I make your life better?’: ‘I’d love to.’

I’m humbled and overwhelmed in the best way.

My beloved @elrhiarhodan summed it up perfectly: “Tumblr is anti-community.  It’s all about pissing in the wind and hoping that someone else gets wet and dirty.”  Anti-community.  That’s the perfect word for it.  It’s been there every time I checked my dashboard.  I didn’t see communities; I saw islands.

I was one!  I used to pride myself on being accessible, but by the time I left, I’d shuttered my windows and locked the doors, insulating myself from “fandom.”  But I am fandom.  So are you.  Every nerd you’ve ever met, every person who has ever participated in a work of art and been moved by it, they’re part of fandom, too.  That is what a fandom is: a group of people with at least one thing in common.  The level of participation varies, the level of dedication changes, and the responses range from critical to unconditional, but ultimately, if you consume it, you are part of it.

I love writing fic, and I love incorporating meta into said fics, and my love for The Flash hasn’t dimmed.  If anything, it’s grown.  So one question finally occurred to me: “Why am I barring myself from a thing I loved?”

Because I didn’t know why I was here.  I got lost.  But I knew why I came back: I came back because of you.  The best parts of this experience have always been you.  I say “you” in particular because it’s not about numbers – it’s never been about numbers – but it’s about being able to say, “I am so glad you exist.” 

I love that I can make you smile.  I love that my adventures have a positive impact; I absolutely love sharing them.  (Looking at you, my wonderful @notenoughtogivebread.)  It’s made me a better person because it encouraged me to practice better habits: I looked for silver linings.  I looked for a way to spin a situation, however ridiculous, however wonderful, in a way that made that moment in time fond.  It worked.  I’m still grateful for the impact that’s had on my life.  You – not Tumblr; you – have made me a better person.  You have made me happier.

You have given me so much.  Your love is overwhelming.  I’m genuinely humbled and will never be able to properly convey how much I appreciate your warmth, support, and kindness (if I were to list everyone who’s shown me love in any context I’d be here for days, so I’ll draw on my newest friend, @tamnew09, and their lovely remarks about my works as just one example). 

I love what you’ve empowered me to do: to become a better person, every day, in little ways.  To get back up no matter how many times I stumble; to keep going no matter how far away the other side of a dark storm seems.  To strive to be the next-best version of myself, the culmination of all my learning experiences, of all my old and new aspirations, my values, my dreams.

Love is what I’ve always tried to give you (and still you reflect it a hundredfold! <3), not because I felt obligated to, but because I wanted you to feel as loved as you deserved.  I wanted you to feel so loved that you felt like you were a good person, because you are.  I wanted to show you love as if you’d never done anything wrong, as if everything in your past was forgiven and we could start fresh every day, and you could mess up as many times as you would and I’d still be in your corner.  That we could disagree, we could lose touch, and still I’d leave my door unlocked for you.

When I say I want to make you a little better, a little happier, my goal is simple: I want to help you reach for and achieve the best possible life you can.  I still do.  I’m a team player: I spent the past nine years mentoring and working with a wonderful, evolving family at the zoo, the preceding three years leading another gang to a national competition for the first time in our twenty-plus year history, and I’ve been part of some team or another ever since I could walk.  It’s always mattered to me that as many people as possible were having a good time, win, lose, or draw.

In that context, I hope you can understand why it’s been an on-and-off thing for me to walk away from Tumblr.  You’re family to me.  You’re my mentors, my peers, my partners-in-crime.  Whenever the amorphous thing we call Tumblr gets me down, you keep my spirits up, remind me why I stayed, and indeed show me why I’m coming back.

Because yes: I am coming back.  Things are going to be different, but I’m hoping to make them different in a good way.  I want to keep growing with you.  I want to make my relationships here a priority.  And I want to make something magical of this, because whatever else Tumblr is, it is a way that I can talk to so many of you, people on the streets I’ve never met before, people in other countries, people in contexts I’d be unlikely to encounter in real life (e.g. parents!).  I know I’m just one stranger you may or may not ever see IRL, but I’m still here, sitting behind a computer screen, writing another breathtakingly long remark to say something very simple:

I love you, and I look forward to loving you more in the future.

GIST: I’m back!

Keep reading

Fate brings you together, fate pulls you apart, fate teases you, and fate rewards you, as long as you are willing to go along for the ride.

Riley meets a Cowboy, and Lucas meets a City Girl, but will they meet again and when?

Cross-Posted to

Oh, What a Night

Sixteen going on Seventeen

Riley was beyond thankful that her Uncle Josh had given her a ticket to tonight’s Knicks game vs the Mavericks. She as thankful that she could go to the game alone; her friends were always such buzz kills whenever they went with her. Did they not understand that when you’re in the garden you support the Knicks, that’s what you’re there for, otherwise why bother?

She found her seat, not the best seat in the place but it was okay, not far from the aisle and from what she could see she would be surrounded by other Knicks fans, no one from tonight’s enemy. “Excuse me, sorry, just, yes thank you.” Riley made her way past the few people in her way and just as she was about to arrive at her seat she felt something slippery under her footing and she felt herself go flying, landing in someone’s lap.

“Are you okay?” His voice had a slight southern twang, a contrast to the harsh New York accents that usually landed on her ears.

Riley took a deep breath before she opened her eyes, which were immediately drawn to the green ones of whoever she landed on, “I think so. I’m so very sorry.”

Keep reading

Dear Brandon,

My boyfriend had given me a copy of your book as a gift for our sixth anniversary today. Curiously perplexed by his uncharacteristic gesture, I observed the pages to come across a photo of us, standing on 42nd street, exactly one year earlier. Shock sprawled across my face and emotion flooded my heart. My mind wandered back to the six months that had preceded this night, which had relentlessly challenged our hearts and nearly broken our bond. It was this night, on our fifth anniversary, that we vowed not to give up; and it was this night that began the start of our greatest year together. I never imagined that I would be staring into this moment again. A moment so fleeting that it had escaped us, lost to the chaos of our times; yet here it is, so beautifully captured and for all the world to see. Though we may be strangers, you have given us the greatest gift of all. Thank you so very much. 

With much love,


anonymous asked:

For the kiss meme, #15 and supercorp please!!❤️

15. A kiss because I have literally been watching you all night and I can’t take anymore (nsfw)

Lean’s rule is simple: look, but do not touch. Flirt, but do not commit. Enjoy the game, but never, ever allow yourself to be played.  She paints her lips red as blood and gets her nails done to match. Her make up is war paint, her nails sharp enough to draw blood. Every one of these functions is a battle for the hearts and minds of National City. Every one of these functions is years off Lena’s life, her cheeks burning from her fake smile and her jaw numb from the painkillers she took to stop the ache of her grinding her teeth.

Keep reading

My aesthetic is Rey, Finn, and Kylo starting out all at odds with each other in differing ways.

So ok: FINN & REY love each other, but they really only spent a day together. They have this adrenaline-fueled shared experience (which can definitely lead to sexy feelings, hehehe), and I can totally see the two of them idealizing each other and putting the other on a pedestal during their absence from each other. That plus their orphanhoods being really different from each other–very hot vs very cold, constant solitude vs constant group companionship, etc–ALL I’M SAYING IS that that could lead to a veeeery interesting dynamic for them to navigate once they’re reunited. #destroy conflict-free Finnrey 2k16.

And then of course there’s Kylo who is obviously at odds with them, because hello! Antagonist! Hahaha and he ALSO shares adrenaline-fueled experiences with each of them (aw yiss), beginning with he and the Traitor!™’s “Some Enchanted Evening, You May See A Stranger, You May See A Stranger, Across A Crowded And Pillaged Village” moment. . And then this miserable space bisexual compounds his problems by getting obsessed with the Scavenger Girl™ AS WELL. What a disaster.

Kylo in deepest black, Rey in tan and blueish gray now, Finn having discarded his white armor, wearing a different kind of armor in that brown jacket of Poe’s; probably in Resistance khaki and olive and earthtones now. I headcanon them each having their own lightsabers in the course of the war; Rey constructing a yellow saberstaff, Finn reuniting with Anakin’s lightsaber again. Because why WOULDN’T that blue blade, whose original wielder was a slave from childhood, also call to another young man borne and bred in slavery, who GOT OUT, who rescued himself? Kylo chases each of them, still with his ragged red sword.

But then, but THEN–Rey and Finn’s rough edges bumping into each other until they smooth out and fit together just right. Them having to ally with Kylo Ren for Reasons, and reluctantly adjusting their views of him (idk: Reylo Force Bond; Kylo secretly feeding Finn info to help other stormtroopers escape in order to undercut Hux, since they are his pet project?).

Losing their lightsabers or getting them destroyed by each other, having to construct new ones. Kylo choking out a disbelieving laugh when his is purple. Rey crying up when her blades come out green, one cool-toned and one warm. Finn smiling when his is orange–like a sunset, like a Resistance pilot’s flight suit, a color brighter than he ever thought he’d see in his daily life, Before.

Their clothes darkening or fading to different shades of gray. Kylo’s charcoal and ashes, for he will always, always burn, and carry the weight of the lives hes taken. He can rest as an ember now, sometimes. Rey in slate and heather, like the sky just before it opens up and reigns because she is sunshine AND storm, and it is safe to cry now. Finn in the gray of doves, shot through with oil-slick rainbows; he wears silver medals of valor.

Give me Finnreylo raising a motley crew of children–little boys and girls who were going to be stormtroopers. Force sensitive orphans they find, of varied species (stay-at-home-dad Hades Ben. Persephone and Hermes Finnrey, traveling, sowing and speaking truth and peace). Rey can’t believe how much family she has. Twins unexpectedly conceived when Rey and Finn are in their early forties, and Ben is fifty-something, still a wall and tower of a man, getting streaks of iron in his long hair, now. And laugh lines on his face. They are girls, both with their mother’s eyes: one pale with Those Ears and a shock of wavy hair, like her father. The other softly, warmly dark, like HER father. She has little golden curls that Finn imagines she gets from the mother he never knew.

Give me Finnreylo, the Gray Trio, growing old together.

Destiel Omegle Roleplay

Stranger: Cas, uh, we gotta talk. SW [[Post-Season 9 Finale]]

You: Sam. Is everything alright? -C

Stranger: No… Not really. SW

You: What has happened? -C

Stranger: It’s.. It’s Dean. SW

You: Dean? He’s alive? -C

Stranger: Not exactly. SW

You: Not…exactly? Sam, I am confused. -C

Stranger: Cas, he died. I mean.. Dean was dead. For a bit.. But.. Something happened… SW

You: Sam, please explain. -C

Stranger: [delayed] He’s a demon. SW

You: [delayed] Dean is a demon. -C

Stranger: I don’t know how it happened. But he’s a demon. SW

You: Can I…may I come see him? -C

Stranger: Cas.. Look… Of course you can, but… Just know that this isn’t Dean. He’s changed. SW

You: Sam, should I…are you going to kill him? -C

Stranger: What? No, of course not. We’re going to fix this. SW

You: Have you found a cure? -C

Stranger: Not yet. I need your help. SW

You: I’ll be there soon. -C

Stranger: Thanks… SW

You: Cas quickly flew to the bunker, appearing in front of Sam. “Where is he?”

Stranger: Sam just shook his head, gesturing to the stairs that led to the dungeon with a glass of whiskey. “Be careful, man…”

You: Castiel nodded and walked downstairs. He entered the room carefully, “Dean?”

Stranger: "Hey, there, Castiel,“ Dean said, smirking. His eyes were completely black, and he was sitting cross-legged in the middle of a devil’s trap. "How’s it going?”

You: Cas walked to the edge of the devil’s trap. “Hello, Dean.”

Stranger: Dean stared at him for a moment, laughing softly. He pushed himself up from the ground, walking as far as he could towards Castiel. “What brings you here?”

You: "Sam told me about your condition,“ Castiel replied simply.

Stranger: Dean raised an eyebrow at him. "My condition?” he asked. “You mean this…?” Dean gestured towards his eyes with one hand.

You: Castiel nodded. “I was hoping to be of some assistance.”

Stranger: Dean watched him in silence for a moment longer before a laugh escaped his lips. “Assistance? You wanna fix this?”

You: Pain flashed through Castiel’s eyes for a brief second before he could push it back. “I take it that you do not.”

Stranger: Dean smirked at him and nodded his head. “Well, Castiel, it ain’t broken,” Dean said, licking his lips as he looked up and down Castiel. “For an angel, you sure are pretty.”

You: Castiel looked down, avoiding eye contact. “Dean, if you will just cooperate we can get you back to normal.”

Stranger: Dean put his hands in his pockets, turning away from him as he paced around the devil’s trap. “Oh, Angel, who says I want to get back to normal? Maybe this is what I’m supposed to be.”

You: "This is not who you are, Dean. I raised you from Hell for a reason,“ Castiel persuaded.

Stranger: Dean sharply turned back to face him, tilting his head to the side a bit. "No? Cas, if you hadn’t pulled me from Hell, this was what I would have become. I would have tortured souls day and night because I /liked/ it.”

You: Castiel looked at him sternly and shook his head. “You are the righteous man, Dean. This is not you.”

Stranger: Dean barked out a bitter laugh, smiling at him. “Righteous? Really? You still think that after everything I’ve done, I’m /righteous/?”

You: Castiel shook his head, looking in to the now-black eyes. “I /know/ that you are righteous.”

Stranger: Dean stalked back over to him, never leaving his eyes for a moment. He got as close as he could, nearly being able to feel the angel’s breath. “Get in here and you’ll see how righteous I am,” Dean hissed.

You: "Please, Dean,“ Castiel breathed out. "I need you.”

Stranger: Dean’s lip twitched as he took back what he was about to say. The words rung in his head. “No you don’t.”

You: "You know I do, Dean. I always have,“ Cas whispered, involuntarily taking a step forward in to the devil’s trap.

Stranger: Dean was a little put-off by his words, but as soon as he noticed the distance lessen, he couldn’t help but grin. "Big mistake,” Dean said, grabbed the front of his coat and throwing him to the ground.

You: Castiel fell back, hitting the ground with a loud thump. “Dean, stay back. I do not want to hurt you.”

Stranger: "Oh really? Looks like you don’t have a choice!“ Dean shouted, slamming a foot into the man’s stomach. He grabbed him, pulling him back up to eye level.

You: Cas let out a small groan of pain, his hands immediately going to his stomach. Before he had the chance to do anything, Dean had pulled him back up. "This is not you,” he whispered.

Stranger: Dean chuckled softly, pulling one hand back before throwing it across his jaw. “Ain’t that a bitch,” Dean grumbled, tossing him to the ground across the edge of the devil’s trap, breaking the line. He smiled.

You: Castiel scrambled back, making his way out of the devil’s trap. “Dean, please. We’re family.”

Stranger: Dean took a large step over the broken line, walking over to Castiel. “Not anymore,” Dean hissed, grabbing the back of Castiel’s hair to tilt him up to look at him, his knees still on the ground.

You: Castiel winced in pain, forced to meet Dean’s eye. “I love you,” he whispered, voice full of hurt.

Stranger: Dean glared down at him, but as soon as he heard him speak, his eyes cleared to reveal the green. “Cas.. You idiot,” Dean said, releasing him.

You: Castiel stood up slowly, looking in to Dean’s green eyes. “Dean…?”

Stranger: "Why the hell can’t you just fight back?“ Dean shouted, pulling his hands up to run through his hair as he turned away from him. "Damnit, Cas.”

You: "I’m not going to fight you, Dean,“ Cas replied softly. "Please, look at me. Look at me and tell me that you don’t still care.”

Stranger: Dean shifted back to look at him, his expression full of confusion. “Why can’t you just fight me, Cas? Just kill me already!” Dean shouted, but he didn’t make a move closer to him.

You: Cas walked up to Dean, standing face-to-face with him. “I couldn’t kill you, Dean,” he murmured.

Stranger: Dean swallowed hard, lifting a hand up to his face, cupping it softly. “Why? Even for your own life, you wouldn’t fight back?”

You: Cas shook his head, very lightly leaning in to the touch. “Life is pointless without you.”

Stranger: Dean sighed. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt you.. I just..” Dean shook his head as he leaned forwards pressing their lips together. “I just wanted you to believe I was gone..”

You: Castiel leaned in to the kiss, finally getting what he had wanted for years. “It’s ok Dean. I’m just…I’m glad you’re still here.”

Stranger: Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, burying his face into his neck. “I’m sorry… But you’re an idiot, Cas. I don’t see why you just can’t kill me..”

You: Cas held him close. “You’re not a monster,” he whispered softly. “I will not kill you because you are not a monster.”

Stranger: Dean gripped the back of the trenchcoat desperately. “But I am.. I am, Cas… I’m what I’ve spent years trying to kill.. I’m the monster…”

You: "No, Dean. Do you remember the vampire that you told me about? The one that did not kill?“ Cas asked gently. "You let her go, because she was not a monster. She was still human on the inside.”

Stranger: Dean shook his head. “This is different… Cas, I- I hurt Sammy. He came into my room and I.. I attacked him.. I didn’t mean to, but I did. There’s nothing keeping me from doing the same to you. I already did hurt you.”

You: Cas kissed Dean gently. “We’re going to fix this,” he promised. “You’ll be human again.”

Stranger: Dean didn’t kiss back that time, but he didn’t pull away. “Just kill me, Cas. It’ll be so much easier..” Dean grabbed one of Castiel’s hands, placing it on his own forehead. “Please.”

You: "Don’t make me,“ Castiel pleaded. "Please don’t make me, Dean.”

Stranger: Dean sighed, leaning into his hand but he just closed his eyes. “I won’t… But I’d rather it be you.. I’d rather it be you than some hunter…”

You: "I will /not/ let any hunters kill you. I promise I’ll protect you. We can have a life together, Dean. We can be happy,“ Castiel whispered.

Stranger: Dean laughed despite himself, looking up to meet Castiel’s eyes. "Happy? Cas, apparently you know nothing about my life. I can’t name one point when I’ve ever been happy.”

You: Castiel gently cupped Dean’s cheek in his hand. “Be happy with me, Dean.”

Stranger: Dean stared at him for a long time, then closed his eyes. “I can’t. I can’t drag you down, too. If I spend my life with you, you’re going to be miserable.”

You: "No,“ Castiel replied sternly. "You taught me /how/ to be happy. I’m happiest when I’m with you and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Stranger: Dean surged forwards, words not forming. Instead, he pressed their lips together and stayed there, trying to express everything he could through a simple kiss.

You: Castiel put his hand on the back of Dean’s head and kissed him back passionately.

Stranger: They stayed like that for a long time, then Dean pulled back, his eyes black.

You: Castiel looked at Dean, his blue eyes meeting the demon’s black. “You’re not a monster, Dean.”

Stranger: Dean blinked at him for a moment, unsure of what he was talking about, then his eyes widened. “Shit,” Dean closed them, opening them again as green. “Still haven’t gotten control of that yet..”

You: "You don’t need to hide them from me,“ Castiel whispered. "I don’t mind.”

Stranger: Dean shook his head, kissing Castiel lightly on the forehead. “I know, I just.. I don’t want you to look at them. It’s just.. It’s not me.”

You: Cas nodded understandingly. “Does Sam know that you’re still…you?”

Stranger: Dean sighed, finally releasing Castiel. “No. I just.. I was fresh out of the pot and I went after him, then he put me down here.. He doesn’t know..”

You: Castiel frowned slightly when Dean let go of him. “You need to tell him. He’s in a lot of pain right now, he thinks you’re gone.”

Stranger: Dean nodded his head. “Go up with me?” Dean asked, extending a hand out to Castiel’s.

You: Castiel took his hand and placed a soft kiss on Dean’s cheek. “Of course.”

Stranger: "And Cas….“ Dean muttered, starting to lead him out of the room.

You: "Yes, Dean?” Cas asked softly as he walked.

Stranger: Dean stopped at the door and smiled. “I love you too.”

I love having conversations with strangers that you may never see again because you know a lil something about someone out there in the world you know they’re living their life doing their thing who knows who they may be in the future maybe you’ll see their face on tv one day and you’ll be like hey I know who u are I got a little insight into your mind before you got to where you are now that’s such a cool feeling it makes the world feel a little less random and intimidating

so i had an interesting conversation
  • You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
  • You both like lucifer and hitler.
  • You: hello
  • Stranger: Hello fellow lover
  • Stranger: Legs do the naughty dance by a forest
  • You: kinky
  • Stranger: Lets*
  • Stranger: Ikr
  • You: *removes clothes and leaves them on a tree stump and begins to dance and chant*
  • Stranger: *peels skin off and chants simultaneously*
  • You: *flames rise from the abyss slowly forming beneath us*
  • Stranger: *i remove my organs and throw them into the flames*
  • You: *peels off skin and eyes and squeezes them in the pit where we hear moaning and screams of pain*
  • Stranger: *picks my teeth out and throws them one by one, chanting what the dreams are saying*
  • Stranger: *peels muscle off and tear it with my gums, emitting a screeching sound*
  • You: *takes off fingernails and toenails, crumbling them and chanting louder*
  • Stranger: *jumps in the flames as a skeleton*
  • Stranger: JOIN ME
  • Stranger: CATHERINE
  • Stranger: COME ON NOW
  • You: *dives into the pit with you*
  • Stranger: I will see you int he out Catherine. Goodbye for now
  • Stranger has disconnected.