A few notices first. We're watching Pride & Prejudice in British Lit (and I've begun reading it on the side) and I'm DYING. It is so good. I took a nap after school and literally had a dream of me and my super crush (that co-worker I mentioned last chapter) were flirting like Darcy and Elizabeth. I'm so in love with this movie (and Darcy like oh god) that I can't see straight.

I'm having trouble with my Creative Writing class cause today the teacher taught a lesson on dialogue and get this: he told us to USE Said frequently, and rarely use FANCY WORDS like exclaimed, whispered, screamed, etc. He said they CLUTTERED up our story and drew away from the dialogue. I was just sitting there like no, fuck you. They explain to the reader HOW the character is saying the words, the reader will not care whether they scream or say I love you, as long as they say it in general.

Also, I have a tumblr (have had one for a few years in fact), and if you guys wanna follow me, the name's olivia-wears-glasses. Alright! Let's get kickin'!

November 27th
Prompt- Fantasy

Cure to Boredom

Dean played with his water bottle, moving his feet to the imaginary music as he tried to keep entertained during the lull. His job was normally easy, after all, retail was a shit show. But, when it came to the slow breaks between customers, he could never quite avoid boredom.

He was alone at the line of registers due to the time of day, because who really decided to go shopping for clothes at 9pm on a Sunday?

Then, a man moved forward from behind the wall of clothes, stepping into the booth beside him and signing onto his register. "Hello," the man addressed him softly, playing with the hem of his tie uncomfortably.

Dean grinned, "hey. You new?"

The man nodded, smiling at a woman who came through the front doors, "yes. I'm Castiel."

"Castiel, eh? That's quite the name!" Dean exclaimed, leaning forward as he spoke.

"I am named after the angel of Thursday."

"Why the angel of Thursday?" Dean wondered blatantly, narrowing his eyes at Castiel.

The man shrugged, "my parents are very religious. All of my siblings have angelic birth names." Then, he twisted his tie again, moving his head to glance around the store in a nervous fashion, "what's your name?"

"Name's Dean." The man in question nodded at himself, grinning widely, "Dean Winchester."

The pair quickly developed into quite the team, becoming fast friends immediately. Pretty soon, their relationship escalated into flirtatious comments and flattery. Dean had never questioned his sexuality before this point, but around Castiel, he really didn't care. Castiel had come out to his parents about five years ago, unfortunately, they'd taken the news quite sourly. His parents had not contacted him since.

He appreciated Dean's friendship, but Castiel couldn't help but fantasize about... more.

He imagined Dean would be a rough, dominant lover. His favorite fantasies were the ones were the Winchester would push him up against the wall and kiss him until his lips were bruised and raw. Dean's imagery of Castiel were much the same, and they translated into dreams, as well. Dreams that grew more graphic as time passed.

One day, it was a Wednesday, casual at best. Nothing special was happening, and customers weren't exactly shopping by the boatload.

Dean radioed in and received a break, saluting Castiel as he moved away from his register. Castiel, ten minutes later, grew bored, and dismissed himself to the bathroom.

Just as he was walking past the Mrs dressing room's, his arm was yanked back and he found himself stumbling into a dimly lit room. Dean stood over him, smirking at his expression, "hello Dean." He choked out from behind foggy eyes.

Then, Dean's lips were on his and his back was back the mirror. The position wasn't exactly comfortable, but the way Dean's hands lingered, the way his breath warmed the shell of Castiel's ear as he swallowed a moan made the entire scene perfect. He melted into Dean's arms, kissing the man with the ferocity of a wild animal.

Their relationship grew ever fonder from there, with stolen kisses in employee break-rooms, and hickies hidden by trench coats and high collars.

Dean was never really bored again.