Undertale Oneshots yAyA

Overworked (=Dreamswap=)

This chapter was requested by @NEO1ipia! It was much fun to write :)

    Things had been rather busy at the J.R. lately. The castle that was the main building of this organization was currently under construction to be even bigger than it was before. The entire West Wing was being extended to fit even more people inside as the J.R's staff grew rapidly. The constant loud noise did not help with anyone's sleep schedule who lived inside the castle. This included Ink and Dream. Then again, Dream never slept much to begin with, saying how such a function was useless to him, and the time spent being lazy would rather be spent filling out paperwork and signing contracts in his eye sockets.

    Ink, among many others, had tried to convince Dream not to pay the construction workers to work 24 hours a day, but he insisted that it get done as soon as possible, and it wasn't an issue for the workers, as he allowed them to have breaks every now and then for food and switching shifts. Not to mention he paid them a lot more to do so. They should be thanking him, really. Most still protested, but Ink went around and told them all that when Dream made up his mind, that was it.

But even Dream had to admit, it wasn't helping his headache from working even longer hours than usual. The construction was only one of the many new things in favour to the J.R. that he was starting. All of the important new additions and the sudden large increase of new recruits, either directly to the J.R., or to the police force(that Dream also controlled). It was daunting, as Dream went through everything assigned to him himself, never with any help. If all of that wasn't enough, he and his entire organization had been sued for unnecessary judgement and execution by people who had lost friends and relatives to Dream's no-negativity policy, though he couldn't understand for the life of him why. He was only getting rid of those who had begun to go down a very dark path! He was sparing them, if anything!

He sighed heavily, hunched over the large stacks of papers on his desk, trying to keep his sockets open. He hasn't been this tired in ages. The distant but still very noisy drills only furthered his stress and splitting headache.

    He groaned, annoyed as he put his hands over his ear ducts and rested his skull face-down on the only empty space within the flood of never-ending work. For some reason he couldn't focus as well as he used to. He was working at a far slower pace than before, despite caffeinating himself several times throughout the day. His previously flawless work speed and habits had been reduced to about the productivity of his wretched brother. Just thinking about 'working' as well as him made him feel sick. He raised his skull, and stared at the clock on the wall. It read 2:34 a.m. as it the second hand ticked on as a speed that made Dream feel like the world around him was slowing down. He reached for his coffee cup, only for it to be empty. His secretary was definitely fast asleep by now, and his legs felt too weak to get another cup himself. He could wake them up, but that would undoubtedly sprout annoyance in them, a negative emotion.

    He shakily used his arms to sit upright again. Perfect posture is important, after all. You wouldn't want to be short and stubby like Nightmare. He picked up his pen again, ignoring the growing blackness at the corners of his view. Why did his sockets feel so heavy all of a sudden? He saw a shadow cross the corners of his view. He had to just be imagining things. He wasn't able to write another word before his exhaustion finally caught up with him, and his skull crashed face first onto the desk.

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    Dream's eye sockets fluttered open. He was met with a blinding light strung from the ceiling. He pulled at the green and white striped blanket on his form, realizing that he woke up. Meaning he must've fallen asleep. Oh no! I didn't finish all of the work I needed to do, did I?! Oh, this is bad. Dream's mind raced, dreadfully thinking of all of the things he was behind on despite his strong efforts to keep up with it all as he sat up. He looked around, from the dark blue couch he was previously sleeping on to the reasonably small TV parallel to him that was on low volume, a Stingray channel playing calm music giving ambience to the room. This definitely wasn't his office. I fell asleep at my desk, didn't I? The smell of crêpes filled his senses. His 'stomach' grumbled in response to the smell of the delicious food. He didn't notice the near silent footsteps approach him.