#I hate sticking patients for labs but I will study the FUCK out of the result

[redrobin-detective]

Fellow nurblrs! We had a rousing discussion on my unit the other day about what every nursing domain likes to focus on. Like L&D had their special monitoring equipment, accels, decels and such and onc cares about BSAs. What are you obsessed with on your nursing unit?

[justcallmenikki7]

Love at first Sight

BTS!Twilight!Au & Supernatural!Au

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Trying to be a good college student, you decide to study with your best friend in the universities library. But all it takes is one look at the bunny like boy to find your soulmate. 

Warnings: FLUUUF, Jungkook trying to be patient with you but all he wants is for you to accept him and the imprint bond, angst, minor character death, Werewolf!Jungkook, BTS in general, reader nervous and trying to decide what’s right

W.C.: 4k

Notes: So, I have had this in my drafts for so long, and I was wanting to stick with the headcanons, but I was wanting to get this out so badly so I am doing just that. I will have Jungkook’s HC posted soon!!

Ever since you met Lisa Manoban at the age of sixteen, you entered the world of the supernatural. At first, you had no clue about the supernatural, even though you were friends with a vampire for a year, Lisa had kept her identity hidden from you. You were oblivious, never catching onto how she would stay up all night, not once being tired, how she was constantly cold, and how she had talked about history as if she lived in it. In your defense, you believed that she was a huge history geek.

But that was all washed away when you walked in on her sucking blood from a human. Looking back on it, the both of you laugh about the situation. But in that moment, you believed that you were somehow drugged on your way to her house. In honesty, you were very calm about the whole situation, minus the dead body on the ground fifteen feet away from you.

Two years later, you believe that you are a genius when it comes to the supernatural. Having a best friend who is a three-hundred-year-old vampire who has told you everything about the supernatural world is cool. Learning about demons, ghosts, werewolves, vampires, and even Gods is handy.

“Why can’t the dogs stay outside where they belong?” Your best friend, Lisa, groaned.

“Why are you even breathing? You don’t need to breathe,” you commented, not looking up from your textbook.

“Because I enjoy the smell of old books, but the dogs are tainting it with their wet dog smell,” she countered back, knowing that the werewolves themselves can hear her. A growl ripping through the air was a tell-tale sign that they did, only to be answered by a smirk from Lisa.

Lisa, in short, can be considered as a sadistic person because she loved messing with people, especially the wolves. You knew that she could defend herself, being alive for 300 years has given here plenty of experience to take care of herself.

“Can you stop tormenting the wolves and help me study?” You asked, looking up at her.

Pouting, “I guess.”

Movement from the other side of the room caught your attention. Looking over, your eyes were met with a pair of doe like eyes. That was when you felt like everything was put together – as if you found the one thing that you have been searching for your entire life.

“Oh, hell no,” you heard Lisa protest, standing up, collecting both of yours books, shaking you out of your trance.

The sound of a primal, possessive growl cut through the air, making a shiver of familiarity and want go down your spine. But then you also wanted to calm down them and make sure that they are okay.

“What’s going on? Why are we leaving?”

Before your questions could be answered, you felt a warm presence behind you. All you wanted to do was fall back into them, to be able to soak up their warmth and hide away in what you would consider to be home.

“Back away from my mate, blood sucker.” The person behind you demanded, leaving no room for questions.

“Blood sucker? Oh, that’s fucking rich.” Lisa gave out a sarcastic laugh, stepping around the table to get closer to the wolf that you have yet to put a name too.

Turning around, you were met with the one and only, Jeon Jungkook. You were at first confused on why he was so close to you, and even associating with you guys. But once his eyes met yours, you put the pieces together.

You are Jeon Jungkook’s imprint.

Lisa has told you stories about how only a select group of supernatural creatures have an imprint. She told you about how since the beginning of time, werewolves had a mate for life, or imprint, given to them. If that werewolf was rejected, then they were to become physically, mentally, and emotionally empty because they have lost their other half. In some rare cases, they die from depression. Nothing, no one, could heal them and bring them back to normal. They literally cannot move on.

“That is why I am very happy that vampires do not have an imprint because I’d rather die than be rejected by the one person I am made for,” Lisa admitted.

That is why he called you his mate, you added.

That is why you were in that trance.

Oh shit. Mentally you are face palming yourself for being slow.

Standing up from your chair, you stepped in between the two angry supernatural beings.

“Hold on,” you began.

“There’s no holding on. He just called me a fucking blood sucker.” Lisa practically screamed, hating that title.

“Lisa,” you said calmly, knowing how to handle her. “Go wait for me outside and we can go back to my place and study, okay?”

“You’re not going with her.” Jungkook jumped in, stepping closer to you.

Turning towards him, eyes narrowed. “And you do not have the ability, or say, or right, to tell me what I can and cannot do.” Your voice was stern, showing where you draw the line. Even though the look of hurt and defeat on his face made your heart clench sadly, you were not going to allow yourself to be in a position where you were bossed around.

“But she’s dangerous,” Jungkook tried to reason, desperateness evident his voice, both his inner wolf and him dreading the thought of you leaving with the vampire girl.

A scoff from Lisa confirmed that she did not go outside like you asked her too. “And you’re not?”

“She’s my imprint,” Jungkook growled, eyes turning to an almost charcoal black, hands shaking from anger.

Not knowing what to do, you stepped closer to Jungkook. Your actions seemed to have calmed him down slightly, and you could see movement behind him, alerting you that he has his pack behind him. “I know that I am your imprint, but that does not mean that you can tell me what I can and cannot do. I am going to leave with Lisa and that is final.”

Your words seemed to have broken him, and you could understand why because of how rejecting it sounded.

“You’re rejecting me?” He choked out, voice cracking and he looked so torn. The sight breaking your heart, something inside of you feels like it has died.

“No, but I need time to process this.” Your confirmation relaxed him and you, along with his pack who let out a breath that they have been holding this whole time.

Nodding his head reluctantly, he stepped away from you, something similar to a whine of sadness coming from his throat. Never has Jeon Jungkook felt so small in his life.

Giving him a sad smile, “Just give me time, please.” 

“Okay, I can do that.”

*****************************************************************************

You have to admit, Jungkook does not give up.

He has allowed you time to think about it, but you did not realize how many classes you had with him. Jungkook and his friends were rumored to be a gang called BTS, Kim Namjoon being the supposed leader. And they were not the only ‘gang’ to be at the university. There was ‘GOT7,’ ‘Seventeen’ and even ‘NCT,’ which so happened to be friends with BTS. You knew of them, having seen them around campus, but never have talked to them, besides Jung Hoseok, Jungkook’s pack member. The two of you were lab partners in Astronomy last semester.

But ever since you found out that Jungkook was your mate, he began to show up to class now. Of course, he did show up every now and then, probably three times a week. Now, he is showing up everyday and is now sitting behind you. His presence both overwhelms you and brings you a sense of security. You can feel his stare on you in class and around campus. You know that he is close by when you get a tingly feeling in your chest, a tell tale sign that tells you that your imprint is near. The both of you have yet to talk because each time he approaches you, you freak out and run away, dragging Lisa with you. You know that your actions hurt him when you do this. The tightness and longing in your chest is a sign that Jungkook is hurting. 

Every night you talk to Lisa about your situation. You have not put it off at all, something that you know that Jungkook is assuming that you are doing when Hoseok stopped you in the hallway. The thing is, you are terrified. You are terrified because you are nineteen with zero experience in the dating field. Being single your whole life is backfiring on you right now. You do not know what to expect or even know what to do. Plus, what if Jungkook is only feeling this way because you are his mate and he only wants to live? Is he just using you because you are his imprint, or does he seriously want to be with you and be committed?

Those questions earned you a slap from Lisa. “Dumbass, did you not listen to me when I explained to you how imprinting works? When a person imprints on someone, all that they see and want is them. Everyone else becomes irrelevant. Their loyalty stands with you, and their pack. Nothing and no one can break the bond that they have with you. It is said that the Moon Goddess herself made the bond not even break in death. Loyalty is the most important thing in the wolf world. I can bet my life that Jungkook is thinking about you right now. Well, I know he is because Kim Namjoon came up to me and asked me to talk to you, which is funny because he thinks that I haven’t, and gets you to talk to Jungkook. Supposedly Jungkook is acting like a scolded puppy and is pouting because you keep avoiding him.”

That is why you were not surprised when Jungkook cornered you one day (the day Lisa had to miss class) in the hallway. The distressed look on Jungkook’s face told you that he in fact is panicking. “I’m sorry, I know that I promised you that I would give you space, but I cannot stop thinking about you and needing to be in your presence. Both my wolf and I are freaking out. All we need is an answer, or at least a hint so we can calm down. I am so sorry for pressuring you.” He rushed out, leaning back to give you space. Running a hand through his hair, you could see how nervous he is.

“I’m sorry for being slow on getting back to you, I didn’t realize how badly this has been affecting you. I should’ve thought about that instead of being ignorant.”

Shaking his head violently, “No, no! Don’t apologize, I totally understand why you are taking a while. I just, my instincts were taking over because my wolf and I were needing to have some sort of contact with you to help calm down.”

“What fur color is your wolf?” You asked randomly, surprising Jungkook.

Smiling, “Black. Midnight black to be more specific,” he answered.

“That’s cool! Are you the only one with the fur color in your pack, or?”

“Yoongi-hyung has the same fur color, but his has a much darker tent than mine. Even though I have incredible sight, sometimes I can’t see him because of how well he blends in with his surroundings at night.”

“That’s really cool!” You boasted, becoming very intrigued with what you are learning about.

Jungkook flashed you a smile, making you smile back at him by how contagious it was. Clearing his throat, “So, uh, does this mean that like…”

“Yes,” you began, trying to calm your racing heart from the hopeful look on Jungkook’s face, “But, I don’t want to jump right into a relationship. I’ve never had a relationship before, and I don’t want to jump into one right yet.”

Trying to keep the sad look from showing, Jungkook still smiled brightly. “Of course! I don’t want you to be in a position where you feel uncomfortable.”

“Thanks for being understanding!”

And understanding he is.

After your guys talk, the both of you swapped phone numbers and even each other’s social media. Jungkook was determined to start a streak with you on snapchat and become your number one best friend on it, something you found funny. From then on out Jungkook became a constant in your life, a constant that Lisa does not like – mainly because she is not a fan of wolves. She, though, is happy to see how happy you have become, especially after your mother’s death. She could not deny how lovesick Jungkook is for you and how attentive he is with you. Her and the rest of BTS laugh with each other on how alert Jungkook becomes when you are doing something.

“Hey, I’m going to go and get some more ketchup.” You got up from the table and headed straight towards the counter that held the ketchup.

Lisa watched Jungkook stare at you as you walked off, never once taking his eyes off you. It was like a foreshadowing moment that Jungkook had – jumping up from his chair, he made his way towards you, tugging your arm towards him before you turned around and slipped in the puddle that was right below your feet. Lisa must admit that she did not even notice the puddle that was below your feet. Being a vampire, her eyesight and hearing are very advanced. So, seeing that Jungkook noticed it and prevented a scene of you falling, she could not deny the fondness that she is beginning to have towards the wolf.

But she believes that Jungkook has a sixth sense when it comes to you. And Jungkook does. The moment he woke up he could feel that there was something wrong with you. He does not know what, but the heavy feeling that him and his wolf felt was a sign that you were not okay.

And you are not.

Today marks the two-year death anniversary of your mom. Of course, everyday since that day has been hell, but knowing that two years ago, just a few hours before her death was the last time you got to hear her voice, feel her touch, and be with her. You hate yourself for not staying any longer with her, for not taking her with you when you had that ability.

You heard your phone buzzing like crazy, but you did not even bother with picking it up. All you did was stare at the wall in a void like state. You ignored Lisa’s knocking on your door, her calls, and worried voice. She knew what day this was, and she knew that it was going to be a difficult and long day. She was worried that you were going to relapse, worried that you will drift off into that dark place that took her months to get you out of.

That is why at 9:53 a.m. she was not that surprised to open the door to find a panicking Jeon Jungkook.

“Where is Y/N? Why is she not answering my calls?” He asked quickly, only to pause once he could sense that you were close. “What’s wrong with Y/N?”

The vampire sighed, “Jungkook, I hate that I have to say this, but Y/N may not want to see you right now. Today is a very bad day for her.”

“Please let me in.” Jungkook begged, distressed that he cannot comfort you. With that, the statement that Lisa said made Jungkook and his wolf even more distressed, if that was even possible. “I just need to be with her, help her. I won’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t.”

Running her hand down her face, Lisa sighed and allowed the wolf in after a few minutes of thinking. “Second door on the right, the door is unlocked.”

As if he was a dog chasing after a ball, Jungkook charged towards your door. Being cautious, he opened the door quietly, being met with the smell of regret, longing, and sadness. His wolf whimpered at the sight of their mate in such a depressed state. Walking in quietly, Jungkook took off his shoes and did the one thing that he knows that will work.

 Lifting the covers, he caught your attention, “Jung—”

“-Hey,” he smiled at you, not believing that he was in front of a goddess. No matter what state you are in, you will always look beautiful in his eyes.

“Why are you here and not asleep? You usually wake up at 2 in the afternoon on the weekends?”

“I could sense something is wrong.”

“I-I’m okay,” you tried to lie, but the glassy look in your eyes was forming tears. Lip wobbling, “I’m not okay,” and that was when you felt yourself break down and seek out the comfort that only your imprint could give you. Throwing yourself into his hold, you gave up on trying to keep that barrier that you have created when it comes to physical contact with the wolf.

Jungkook had a million questions that he wanted to ask you, to find out who or what has hurt you. His wolf wanted to seek out the person who has hurt his mate, to kill or torture that person that dared to mess with his mate. Jungkook felt the primal need to do so, just to make you happy. But he wanted you to be okay first, to smile again, to be happy and yourself.

For the next hour, you relished in the comfort that only Jungkook could give you. With him holding you felt like a part of you felt better, but the knowledge that your mom is still gone and that she will not be back still haunts you. Jungkook could sense that, he could sense your distress and his wolf whimpered inside of him. Running his hands through your hair (something he has been wanting to do for three months now), he could tell that it is something that helps you calm down.

“My mother passed away two years ago today,” you began. Jungkook’s hold on you tightened, encouraging you to go on. “I should’ve taken her with me instead of leaving her there by myself. I should’ve dragged her with me instead of leaving her there at that stupid mall so she could get those dumb pair of shoes that she was waiting for. I tried to convince her to wait and get them later on, but she was adamant on getting them.” You gritted out, becoming angry at yourself. “And then there was a robbery during the sale, and she was…” and you clung onto him as if he was your lifeline, nose nuzzled into his neck, finding comfort in his natural, woodsy scent.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N. You did not know, it is not your fault that your mom died, and she knows that. Blaming yourself for something that was way out of control is going to continue to make you miserable and eventually will kill you.” Jungkook said after a while. “Please stop beating yourself up over this is leading you down that road.”

You did not say anything, but when you squeezed Jungkook tightly for a minute and then released, he knew that was you acknowledging what you said. For the rest of the day the two of you spent the day in your bed, holding onto one another, talking about anything and everything. Eventually the both of you fell asleep without noticing it. Waking up the next morning entangled with one another, it felt normal. It was as if this was normal.

You realized that Jungkook is permanent and that he is not leaving you, that he is not making this all for show. So, that is why you began to stop stressing and worrying. You allowed yourself to fall, and you fell.

Ever since that day, you and Jungkook became what you call closer. You began to become physically affectionate with him and accept his affectionate ways. Jungkook obviously did sit next to you, or at least be six feet away from you in the beginning because him and his wolf needed that sense of relaxation to know that you were nearby. Now, though, Jungkook and you are touching one another in some sort of way now, whether that be your arms touching, knees touching, or him standing very close to you. You did not mind this one bit, the feeling of his body warmth had you feeling safe.

In class, now, Jungkook sits beside you, kicking the class nerd, AJ, out of his spot. His actions resulted in the silent treatment from how rude he was to the scrawny kid. During class Jungkook would whine and basically paw at your arm, wanting you to forgive him. After class, he went up to AJ and apologized, well, tried too, which earned Jungkook a please smile from you. 

The boy loves your praises and attention. But sometimes, he could not handle it when you and Lisa talk about guys right in front of him. 

You were out with Lisa, Jungkook, and Jungkook’s pack, having dinner at the new restaurant in town. All of you were seated around the large, round table, you being sat in between Jungkook and Lisa. Jungkook had scooted his chair to where it made your chair and his almost like a two-seater, arm around your shoulder as he had you leaned into him. You, obviously, did not mind this, finding yourself relaxed into his body. The two of you were looking at the menu together, trying to figure out what you both would want.

“I think I’ll just stick with a salad as an appetizer and have chicken alfredo as my dinner,” you concluded, looking at Jungkook.

“That sounds good baby,” Jungkook agreed with what you wanted. “I’ll take Spicy Kimchi Stew,” Jungkook concluded after a few minutes later, finalizing what he wanted right before the waiter came to the table.

Lisa kicked your leg, catching your attention. Raising her eyebrows suggestively at you when you realized that she found the waiter cute. Giggling, you nodded in confirmation, not denying the waiter was cute. But they would never beat Jungkook in attractiveness in your opinion.

Not knowing that Jungkook watched the interaction between you and Lisa, a low predatory growl rumbled in Jungkook’s chest. Tightening his arms around you, he sat up straighter in his chair and glared daggers into the waiter, nerving the poor boy.

“Jungkook.” You scolded at his rudeness when he told the boy what you two would like.

Losing his composure, Jungkook frowned down at you, “What?” He asked, trying to play innocent.

“Don’t be rude,” you said, giving Jungkook a look.

Jungkook pouted, “I’m sorry,” he apologized, wanting to get back on your good side. He hates being scolded by you.

“It’s okay, Kookie. Just go easy on the poor lad, he did no harm.”

“But you thought he was cute,” Jungkook grumbled, taking a sip of his water, jealousy evident in his tone and body language. 

Catching on to what he was saying, you giggled, finding his jealousy cute. Finding some confidence, “He has nothing on you.” A huge blush covered your face after you said that, “you have nothing to worry about.”

Jungkook was silent for a moment, body going stiff. You were nervous that you messed up, but those thoughts disappeared once you felt a pair of lips pressing to the side of your head and his arms pulling you closer (if possible) to his side, body trying to cover you with his. For the rest of the night, it felt as if you and Jungkook were on a new level. Jungkook was extra clingy and you were wanting Jungkook’s attention. You assume that your words had hit the both of you in a deeper meaning, a silent way of saying that you both belong to one another. 

[seacottons]

— uni with atz pt. two

notes: swearing, fluff, mildly suggestive dialogue. tags: @latte-fairytaekwoon

seonghwa — [ early edu. + developmental psych. ]

extremely organized in all aspects of his life

your bookshelf at home consists of books on developmental studies in children.

if he isn't in class or volunteering, he's either cuddling with you or reading.

stressed 24/7.

takes very pretty and neat notes.

randomly spits out facts throughout the day.

sometimes, you join him during his volunteer hours at various daycares and schools.

is all the children's favorite teacher.

extremely patient and soft-spoken when it comes to working with even the most difficult child.

also loves being called 'teacher hwa'.

"i don't know, if i were you, i would make the students call me king san."

"they'll probably end up bullying you," seonghwa replies back.

you don't know how he has the patience for the amount of children he has to take care of.

takes you picture-book shopping with him for his students.

finds himself singing nursery rhymes while cooking or cleaning.

has polaroids of you two stuck on the fridge.

brings lint rollers to work.

gets worked up in public if a parent seems too neglectful in any way.

"y/n!" he tugs at your elbow and points with his jaw to the right, "look! his kid is just spilled all that paint on the floor, and he didn't even bat an eyelash!?"

"don't intervene again, please."

"okay, but-"

the whining of metal and steel cut him off, and the two of you jump in fright at the sound of a shelf falling apart.

"some people really shouldn't have kids."

whines when he comes back home that the paint stain and glitter just won't come off his clothes no matter how many times he rubs the spots with warm water.

or how he has mulch stuck in his socks and shoes from taking the kids outdoors to play.

you somehow always end up finding a googly eye or specks of glitter under the couch.

sometimes brings home finger-paintings with numerous colorful hearts and two stick figures in the middle.

"today's assignment was to paint what makes you happy."

you also help him stitch up little felt and cotton dolls for the kids to keep.

often gets sick from working with children.

and passes it onto you by accident.

you know he's had a bad day when you ask him how it went, and his face scrunches up in pain.

stormed into your shared apartment one day and made a beeline to the bathroom.

forty minutes later, he comes out, towel wrapped around his hips, face and chest flushed, and explains that a child accidentally peed on him.

gets flustered when you laugh at his demise.

sometimes uses his teacher voice when scolding you or your mutual friends.

and you all end up teasing him more anyway.

"do you use that tone in bed too, hwa?" yeosang asks one day. mingi and yunho splutter out in disbelief, followed by loud laughter.

you choked on your bite of cake at the sudden remark.

"what did i ever do to deserve this slander," seonghwa grumbles whilst patting your back.

he often stays up late making lesson plans for both his classes and ones to implement at work as well.

takes full advantage of his teacher's discount at shops and restaurants.

sometimes brags about it to his friends to get under their skin.

"you have it easy. just watching kids and getting free food," san says one day in the middle of their game of jenga.

"it's not easy at all," you hear seonghwa reprimand the younger, and laughter rings out from the other four guests.

"you're learning about children! what's so hard-"

you had a hunch that seonghwa purposely tilted the wooden tower to tumble over an unsuspecting san.

"y/n! your boyfriend is trying to murder me!"

seonghwa paces in circles around your apartment whilst studying for an upcoming exam.

asks you to quiz him on certain materials.

"correct! okay, can you define the preoperational stag-"

"how many kids do you want to have in the future?"

"..what?"

"kids. how many do you want to have with me?" he presses further, eyes trained on your face rather intently.

"can't this conversation wait until you finish studying?"

"no. i'm too curious," he licks at his chapped lips and leans in to poke your forehead, "i need to know. this is important information. please."

yeosang — [ biology pre-med ]

met you through your mutual friend, wooyoung, who invited him to live in your shared dorm.

"you didn't tell me you have a dog?" yeosang turns to wooyoung, brow quirked up whilst pointing to the 'beware of dog' sign on one of the bedroom doors.

"oh, i don't. i just put that up to mess with y/n," wooyoung dismissively explained while making a sandwich.

is the reason why you and wooyoung haven't killed each other yet.

asked you out after five months of moving with you and wooyoung.

designated one of the kitchen's shelves as a medical supply closet.

"because wooyoung always ends up hurting himself without doing anything."

"i do not."

stress is his middle name.

constantly contemplates his life decisions.

"wooyoung! shut up! i can't finish my essay with you blabbering every damn second!"

you had to get used to the sight of a full sized anatomical skeleton in his room.

"okay, but i'm not letting you fuck me with that thing in here."

later that night, wooyoung's heart nearly burst in his chest from fright.

"yeosang! why the fuck is your skeleton in my room!?"

some nights, during dinner, yeosang slams his obnoxiously large textbooks onto the table, and insists for the two of you to quiet down while he skims over the pages a few times.

"can't you just enjoy your meal for five-"

"no. now hush."

not only does he have labs, presentations, and essays to worry about, but he also got accepted for a pre-med internship at a local hospital.

hardly goes out anymore during his free time.

most dates include cuddling on the couch or baking something in the kitchen.

stays up late at night to complete assignments.

towers of thick books decorate his nightstand.

"no, yeosang. i really don't want to see you dissecting a cat," you grimace, turning quickly and shielding your eyes from his phone.

"why not?" yeosang whines softly, hand tugging the hem of your shirt with a frown, "it's not that bad, i promise-"

he's cut off when wooyoung snatches the phone from him with a loud cry, "gross! y/n, you're letting him touch you after he touched that?! and fuck- what is that smell?"

"that's formaldehyde. now give me back my phone before i dissect you next."

you join him at the lab when he has extra work piled up.

"you look so cute with a white coat and goggles."

you prod and poke him repeatedly, asking him numerous questions about the specimens in the lab.

"y/n! don't touch that!"

one day, wooyoung comes home sick.

you insist on taking him to see a doctor, only for him to emit a haughty laugh at you.

"why would i waste my time and money when i have yeosang here?"

"but woo, he didn't even get into med-school yet-"

wooyoung insists he doesn't need to see a professional, "yeosang is practically our live-in doctor! why do you think i begged him to move in?"

you roll your eyes, calling for yeosang to persuade the younger male.

"alright, tell me your symptoms," your boyfriend sighs, plopping down onto the couch beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

after wooyoung explains everything and takes his own temperature, he peers at yeosang for an answer, "well?"

"you're dying," yeosang nods simply.

wooyoung's visage pales, and he scrambles to sit up on the couch with a disturbed expression.

"what?"

yeosang is always studying.

always.

studying.

you insist for him to take a break sometimes.

"i can't. i have lab tomorrow. oh, and a paper."

"but you always say that!"

you attempt to tug him out of his seat.

"come on! just for an hour, and we'll be back. promise."

he's always reluctant at first, but finds himself agreeing later anyway.

enjoys the small dates at the nearby lake probably more than you do.

mingi — [ accounting ]

a gifted genius when it comes to numbers.

is your very own math tutor.

jokingly asks you to pay him back.

he accepts kisses and hugs. baked pastries are also a bonus.

"y/n? are you okay?" a hand waves in front of your face.

you blink at him wordlessly, mind fogged from the bombardment of information you just received, "sorry- you lost me. can you repeat the process again?"

he playfully smacks your shoulder with the ruler and stomps his bare feet onto the tiled floor, "this is the third time!"

"i'm sorry! you know how i am with math!"

he begs you to take classes with him as electives.

"sorry, baby. i love you, but there's no way i'll ever take statistics."

"okay, what about economics?"

"no."

"management? business administration!?"

"no and no."

"but y/n! it'll be fun! you'll be with me!"

always whines about how much he hates having to take 'stupid management classes' and the group projects that come along with them.

"they never take the assignments seriously!"

said group visits your apartment to work on projects with mingi.

"aren't you supposed to be working on that project?"

you watch as mingi and his friends suddenly erupt in an explosive argument about the game they were currently playing.

"yeosang! what the fuck!?"

"it's y/n's fault mingi was distracted!"

you let out an indignant squawk and glare at yeosang.

"that round didn't count."

"stop being a sore loser, san!"

"so.. i take it you didn't even start?" you grimace, peering over to the untouched books and papers on the coffee table.

"it's just management class. no big deal," san explains quickly with a dismissive wave of his hand before nudging your boyfriend with a glare, "you better not make us lose this time, or i'll kidnap y/n."

stays up late to finish other work that's due.

loves to wear big spectacles when studying.

it 'helps him focus'.

writes notes on his calculator and slides it towards you while you're both home studying.

'n-3^07-!'

"mingi, what is that?"

"read it upside down, you bum."

has a coffee mug with 'i love π' in big, bold, red letters.

refuses to throw it away even though the rim is chipped.

always bugs you about how you should have a budget plan.

insists on teaching you how to make spreadsheets on excel.

"i can't do this, mingi. too much numbers give me a headache."

"do you want my lucky glasses?"

rambles on about things related to his field, and you can only nod in confusion every time.

"how does your brain keep up with all of this?"

"easy. just be one with the numbers."

"that was a bad pun.."

"you're supposed to laugh!"

mingi was that typical student who complained about studying, but is always the one acing everything with the highest score.

"i should just quit university and become a stripper."

"you say that every exam week, and yet, you always pass with the highest grades," you mumble from the other side of the couch, absentmindedly highlighting a few sentences in your book.

"yeah, but studying is a pain in the ass," he exhaled with a loud groan, head thrown back against the back of the couch, "why me, y/n?"

you roll your eyes while reaching over to pat the side of his face in comfort.

"everything will work out just fine."

later that week, he joyfully bounces into your apartment with a large grin plastered on his face, "guess what?"

you snort in amusement.

"let me take a wild guess. you aced your exam."

"and guess who has the highest score?" he tugged you forward by your cheeks with a bright grin.

"yeosang?" the cheery expression on his features suddenly vanished, causing you to laugh, "i'm kidding."

likes to study while attached to your side, wearing comfortable pajamas and warm socks.

sulks whenever his stock investments drop further than he expects.

and is always in a good mood whenever the prices spike back up.

always has a horrible math pun up his sleeve.

sends you accounting memes and becomes a gloomy mess when you don't laugh or understand the joke.

"what if i propose to you with a math problem? and we have pie instead of cake?"

"please don't bring math into our love life."

yunho — [ broadcasting journalism ]

roommates with you, hongjoong, and jongho.

is called 'newspaper boy' by hongjoong.

is well-known around campus for being one of the student journalists for the university's newspaper.

you have the very first published paper, with his full name printed on the front, framed in the hallway of your dorm.

has the prettiest hands.

and longest fingers you've ever seen.

can put them to good use.

especially when typing out essays. they're practically blurred from how swift he is.

likes to ramble about current international events to jongho early in the morning. the latter pretends to understand, giving the other false hope.

jongho always sends you a pleading look to save you from your lover.

always carries a notebook.

article deadlines = stressed yunho.

complains that his friends are 'uncultured'.

helps you with your essays.

if he has enough time, he'll actually re-write it for you.

"was it really that bad?"

"it's okay, baby. you're good at other things."

"how come you don't re-write my papers?" jongho huffs from across the living room.

"you're not y/n."

interviews you and your other roommates for his projects.

you smile from behind him as he zooms in obnoxiously close to hongjoong's disgruntled expression.

"he zoomed in on my nose again, didn't he?" the blue haired male asks you.

"sorry, but that tomato sauce stain is really distracting me."

hongjoong nearly drops his fork.

"what stain!?" he furiously rubs his face with the back of his hand, "see! i told you that you always interview us at the most inconvenient time!"

is constantly writing.

can be very unorganized.

"who took my ap stylebook!?"

"can you stop shouting? it's 6 a.m., yunho!" hongjoong growls from his bedroom.

mingi and seonghwa often visit your dorm because they're usually partnered with yunho for an assignment.

it somehow always winds up with mingi and yunho fooling around, whilst seonghwa struggles to persuade them to help him with the work.

sometimes, you tag along to help film his public social experiment projects.

is a social-bug, so people are instantly drawn to him.

likes to cuddle with you while watching the films for his assignments.

you think most of them are pretty boring, but being in his lap and tucked against his chest makes up for it.

you like to add glittery stickers onto his video camera and tripod.

is very much infatuated with you, so he doesn't mind one bit.

applied for a paid broadcasting radio station/tv internship over the summer and was quickly accepted.

asks you to help him style his hair for his first day at work.

"but it's just a radio station. no one's going to see you?" jongho questions with a perplexed expression.

"i still need to look presentable!"

and later that day you quickly hush the two males beside you once the clock strikes 2 p.m.

"quiet! yunho should be on any second now!"

"i was just breathing?" hongjoong whispers weakly.

over dinner, jongho often mimics yunho's reporting voice.

"y/n, do i really sound like that?" yunho pouts as you and hongjoong burst into fits of laughter.

"aw, don't be sad. i love your reporter voice, baby."

will wake everyone up early the next morning by yelling at the top of his lungs with his reporter voice just to get back at you three for laughing at him.

[imagining-supernatural]

The Work Call

Part 18 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary:  You call your boss to get some work to do in your free time and do a little flirting ;)

Word Count: 2,258

With Sebastian off in Georgia for a week, you felt like a teenager whose parents just left her home for alone for the first time. Suddenly, you could break all of the rules. Not that your rule-breaking was something that would get you in too much trouble…

Since the press seemed to have gotten it through their heads that you were off limits, you finally had your privacy and space back again. As a result, you were taking advantage of the last few weeks of autumn before the snow came. After your hospital appointments, you walked down the street to a cute little café and sat in one of the over-sized, plush chairs for a bit. You’d either bring a book or your laptop.

On Wednesday, the café cat apparently decided you were okay and hopped up into your lap, purring loudly as you read. You’d snapped a quick selfie and sent it off to Sebastian.

Me: [image attached] Don’t be surprised if you come home this weekend and I’ve catnapped ol’ Misty here

Sebastian: What if I’m allergic to cats?

Me: Sucks to be you, I guess

Me: The apartment’s lonely without you

You stared at the last text you’d sent, suddenly overthinking it. Sure, you were married. And, sure, you were wearing his ring now. But you two hadn’t really discussed what that meant, exactly. So was that last text too strong? Too forward?

Hell, you didn’t even know what you’d meant by it.

Sebastian: Don’t know how I feel about being able to be replaced by a cat

Sebastian: Maybe I need to up my game

Up his game?

Shit, it had been so long since you’d flirted with anyone. So long since you’d even considered a relationship. After your hellish life growing up, you’d put all of your focus into school. You were determined to set yourself up for a better life than the one you were born into. Then you graduated and worked hard to secure your place at your job. School only taught you so much, and you needed to be able to apply what you learned to real life.

Once you felt secure in your professional life and you were finally ready to start exploring a relationship, you found out you had cancer.

So to say you were woefully underprepared for this situation would be the understatement of the year.

Me: Luckily for you, I like Jenny’s coffee so much that I don’t want her to hate me for stealing her cat

Sebastian: You still thought a cat would replace me

Sebastian: That hurts, sweetheart

Sweetheart. In writing. 

Me: I’ll find some way to make you feel better this weekend

Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

Why did you never read over your texts before you sent them?

At least you hadn’t put a winky face emoji. Now that would have been a disaster.

Not that you didn’t want your relationship with Sebastian to keep going. You did. But there was a lot more pressure riding on this than there was back in high school when you went to the prom with Brad Trayton, or in college when you slept with the guy from your Chemistry 101 lab three times before having to break it off with him because he always smelled like bacon.

This was Sebastian Fucking Stan. And you were married to the guy. And you were in a literal life or death situation. If things went badly with him, that would make the rest of your cancer treatment very awkward, to say the least.

Sebastian: I’m sure you will…

Sebastian: I gotta go to a script reading rn. Skype tonight?

Me: Of course

You’d been Skyping with Seb at least twice a day since he left on Sunday night. It was almost like he never left, in that regard.

But with him gone, you found that you had a lot of free time on your hands. With your body starting to get used to the cancer treatment, you also had a bit more energy and nowhere to put that energy to good use.

So you called your old boss back home, dialing his direct extension to avoid getting his assistant. The press might have backed off, but thanks to the updates from Jasmin, people who knew you were still reeling over your marriage.

“Plathway.”

“Hey, Brendon, it’s Y/N.”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, and you could just imagine him leaning back in his chair. Brendon Plathway was your mentor and had grown into a close friend. Of everyone in your life, you would say he was the closest thing to a good father figure you had. “How are you doing? I’ve seen your name on Facebook a few times.”

“I’m doing pretty good, all things considered. I’m in a clinical study in New York and the doctors are optimistic that it’ll work. They’re hoping I’ll get the tumor out sometime in February.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Brendon said. “And that husband of yours�� he treating you well?”

“It’s not… it’s not quite like that. But yeah. He’s great.” It was a pretty decent segue into the reason for your call. “He’s actually out of town, shooting for a TV show. So I have a bit of time on my hands and was hoping—”

“Y/N Y/L/N?”

The unfamiliar voice interrupted you before you could finish. You looked up to see a guy about your age with a newsboy bag, notebook, and tape recorder.

A fucking journalist.

“I thought it was you. You mind if I ask you a few questions?” He didn’t say it like a question, nor did he give you time to respond before he sat on a stool beside you and set up shop on the small table. “If I could write an article on you, it would just—”

“I’m actually on a phone call right now.”

“Oh, I won’t take too long. I just can’t pass up this opportunity. You’re quite the enigma. No one’s gotten your side of the story.”

“And neither will you. I’m not going to answer any questions.”

He completely ignored you, flicked on the recorder, and put his pen to paper. “People have been saying that you planned your rendezvous with Sebastian Stan in Vegas. What do you say to that?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I have no comment for you.”

“I thought you’d appreciate the chance to get your story out there. There are some nasty rumors spreading—”

You cut him off before he could continue. “I know my story and the people I care about know my story. I will not be answering any questions for you today.”

“Do you feel no guilt for being the reason Sebastian Stan’s reputation has taken a massive hit?”

“I’m going to give you one more chance to leave me the fuck alone before I call the cops.” He opened his mouth, but you spoke over him, voice lowering to a red-hot hiss. “And if you write a single word of this conversation or make any sort of insinuations that I said anything at all, I will slap you and whatever blog or magazine you work for with a libel lawsuit. Don’t even think about trying to manipulate your recording because you’re not the only one who has been recording this conversation. The phone call you interrupted was with my boss and it’s company policy to record all incoming and outgoing phone calls. He’s a witness that I repeatedly rejected your attempt to start an interview and anything else you say can be construed as harassment. Have I made myself clear?”

He stared at you, wide eyed. Guess he hadn’t expected a cancer patient to be so blunt. Nevertheless, he gathered his things and stood. Just before walking away, he muttered, “You didn’t have to be such a bitch about it.”

Once he was gone, you groaned. “Sorry about that, Bren.”

“Is that something you have to deal with often? That’s horrible.”

“No. Not since I got sick because stupid reporters were sticking their germy microphones in my face and Seb threatened them with lawyers.”

Brendon hmphed. “Well, you sounded like you had that speech prepared. Sounded like you’d said it a few times.”

“Before he left, Seb made sure I knew how to threaten any reporters like that. Luckily this was the first time I’ve had to remember what he told me.” The reporter had shaken you, and it took a few deep breaths before you felt calm enough to continue with your conversation. “Anyway, back to my original reason for calling… Are there are projects I could jump on long distance? I’ll probably only be able to put in about ten to fifteen good hours of work a week, but it’d be nice to have something to do other than wait for new episodes of my shows to come on Hulu.”

“Let me poke around the office a bit. I know there’s a big one coming up next week. Rachel’s heading that one. You’ve worked with her before right? She’d probably appreciate your input. Trent is in the middle of one for a pharmaceutical company, but he’s not feeling too sure about it. I’ll see if he wants you to try and hack the system and find holes.”

“Anything. I’ve worked with both of them before and I think we work well together. I did quite a few initial proposals before I left for Vegas and I enjoyed those more than most people do.”

He promised he’d send any projects your way that he could. After a few more minutes of catching up, you ended the call and headed outside to wait for Sean in the chilly fall air.

“How was the reading?” you asked later that night. “Any juicy plot lines?”

“Not that I can tell you,” Seb replied. The phone in his hand shifted as he settled further into the hotel bed that Marvel was putting him up in. “But it was good. We’ll start shooting tomorrow.”

“Excited to lube up your arm?”

He laughed, head falling back against the headboard. “I take it you finally did some research on me?”

“A little. The hospital was running behind today, so I was there a bit longer than I planned and I fell down the YouTube abyss of interviews. Anthony seems like a fun guy to work with.”

Sebastian grinned. “He is. Speaking of work, did you call your boss?”

“Yeah.” The reminder of the phone call – or rather of the interruption – made your roll your eyes.

“Didn’t go well?”

“No, no. It did.” You knew your news was not going to go over well with Seb, so you took a minute to get settled into the bed. It had been a long day and laying down felt good. You turned your laptop on its side so your face would still be the right way on Seb’s phone. “Brendon’s gonna check around work and find some projects and work to throw my way. That’s all good.”

“Then what is it?”

With a deep sigh, you began. “While I was on the phone with him, some hipster reporter dude interrupted.”

“Son of a—”

“It took a minute to get it through his thick skull that I was not going to give him a story but he finally left. It just kinda took a bit out of me.”

“God, Y/N. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah, it’s not,” you agreed softly. “But you prepared me. I handled it. Then Sean made me eat dinner with him and his wife. She’s an amazing cook. Sometime when you’re home, they want to have both of us over. And when this is all over, we definitely need to think of a hell of a way to thank him for everything. He’s done so much more than a driver gets paid to.”

The two of you brainstormed for a bit about how to repay Sean for his kindness and friendship. Then your conversation moved on to different subjects, bouncing around for a bit until you yawned for the third time in five minutes.

“You seem more tired than usual. You doing okay?”

“I’m fine. I mean, I haven’t been sleeping well, but that’s your fault.”

“My fault?” he asked.

“Yeah. You made me sleep next to you for two weeks then you just up and leave me alone. It’s rude, Mr. Stan.”

Something in your words sparked something in his eyes that filled you with… excitement?

“Well, Mrs. Stan…” His words were accompanied by a wink that stopped your heart. Forget your brain tumor. Sebastian was going to be the source of your death. “You only have two more nights before I’m home for the weekend.”

Flirting? Were you flirting?

“Two nights with you and five nights without you is just not a fraction I like.”

My god, you were flirting.

“If you can convince Marvel to move their studios to New York, I’m all game. Until then, we’ll have to make the best of those two nights.”

“Make the best of them, hmm?”

“Yeah,” he said in a low voice. “Mackie’s commentary on The Voice isn’t as good as yours. I’ve been waiting to watch the new episodes until I’m with you.”

The unexpected twist made you laugh out loud. It didn’t escape your attention how his eyes crinkled at the sound, affection flooding his expression. “The Voice on Friday and Dancing With The Stars on Saturday?”

“I’ll pen it in my calendar, sweetheart.”

“Ooo. I’m pen-worthy. That’s so much better than pencil-worthy.”

“You’re white-out-worthy, baby. I’d white-out plans I have with someone else to pen in plans with you.”

Fucking hell. Baby was a new one.

If he’d put on half this much charm on you in Vegas when you were drunk, it was no wonder you’d married him.

“Then I guess I need to go erase the pencil plans I had for Saturday evening and make room for you. Maybe even buy a special pen just for you.”

“Maybe wait for tomorrow? You’ve had a long day. Seems like you need a good night’s rest.”

“You too, hun.” The pet name felt foreign on your tongue, but it somehow felt… right? “Shooting starts tomorrow. You need to be ready to keep up with Mackie’s energy.”

“He wants to meet’cha, you know. Apparently I haven’t shut up about you.’

“Gimme a few more weeks to get used to this treatment and maybe I can spend more than three seconds around him without needing a nap,” you joked. “Unless he only has that energy when there’s a camera on him…?”

Seb laughed. “That is him all the damn time.”

“Then I better let you go for the night. You’ve spent the last few weeks shlumping around with me. Gotta get your rest to keep up with him tomorrow.”

“And you gotta get your rest so you can hand out candy tomorrow.”

“I’m excited for that, actually. Trick or Treating really slowed down back in Utah lately. I think last year I got, like, maybe three groups of kids?”

“You’ll get your fill this year. A lot of the kids in the apartment complex go to every door. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting sick.”

It took twenty more minutes before you were finally able to say your goodbyes and hang up. You stared at your phone for a moment before placing it on the side table beside Sebastian’s bed and turning off the light.  

Houston, we've got some flirting!!! Also can we just take a minute to appreciate how amazing Sean is? But things seem to be looking up!

CHAPTER 19: THE LONG DAY

[specialmindz]

“PAPYRUS! PAPYRUS WHERE ARE YOU?”

BUBBH!           

“PAPYRUS!”

Sans poked the baby bones currently playing the bathtub. “hey uh, bro? i think dad wants you…”

“PAH-PYRUS!”

SPLASH SPLASH!

“WHAT YOU WANT STINK DADDY? I’S MAKING MOOSIC OVER HERE!”

The infant continued splashing in the tub, the bubbles floating gently through the air with each slap the water received. “UNDER DA’ SEA! UNDER DA’ SEEEA! DOWN HERE IT WETTER, DOWN HERE IT BETTER, TAKE IT FROM BAY-A-BEEEEE!”

CAP CAP CAP!

CA-THINK, WHAM!

“ugh! dad, you don’t have to slam open the door like that-”

“WHERE’S MY KEYBOARD, YOU LITTLE SHIT?”

SPLASH SPLASH!

“I don’t know what you’s talkin’ bout’. What is dis ‘key-board’ you speak of? Is a board game?”

“YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS! YOU USE IT WHEN YOU’RE USING MY COMPUTER! TELL ME WHERE IT IS THIS INSTANT!”

SPLASH!

Papyrus stopped. “Why you need it so bad? You’s a scientist, not a moosician! I’S the only one with musical talent round’ here! Listen to mah jams!”

SPLASH SPLASH!

“UNDER DA’ SEA-”

“THAT’S THE WRONG KIND OF KEYBOARD!”

“uh oh,” said Sans, studying the water. The surface of it was almost completely obscured by bubbles, but he had a good idea of what lay beneath. Papyrus normally didn’t even like bubbles, as they got in his eye sockets and made it hard to see where he was swimming, but today he actually asked for extra suds in order to create “special effects” for a “concert” he was performing.

It looked like Gaster had the same idea too, as a trademarked sigh of unmistakable misery escaped him.

Heh heh, it’s like watching a balloon slowly lose its will to live…

SPLASH SPLASH, SPLASH SPLASH!

“It’s under the water isn’t it?”

“Nyeh?”

“My keyboard. It’s underwater.”

Papyrus looked down at the water and then back up at his father. “I do bad Daddy?”

“Yes Papyrus, you’ve made a mistake...”

“I fuk up yo’ life?”

“Yes Papyrus, you’ve ‘fucked up my life,’ now give me my keyboard so I can repair it.”

“Mmm…no. No, I’s gonna fix it. I already has an idea, in fact! I can still make dis work.” Papyrus licked the water. “Yep. Daz the problem. That’s the problem right there. I got the suds, but the water not be salty enough. SNAS!”

“AHH! wh-what? what do ya’ want pap?” asked Sans, putting a hand against his skull.

“Well FIRST, I’d like you to pay attention,” said the baby. “We gots a situation over here and you’s dreaming bout’ eating Sabastian!” The infant pointed to a dead crab floating in the bath near his feet. It had CLEARLY been eaten a long time ago by someone else, probably a human seeing as Papyrus got all his stuff from the Dump, but apparently the shell was all he needed to play pretend.

“I needs you to search the Powder Place and finds the salt,” said Papyrus, now pointing at the bathroom cabinet.

The bathroom cabinet was where the family keep their cleaning supplies. Heavy-duty powder that was used to clean up serious messes regular soap couldn’t handle, pest control bottles that sprayed foul-smelling chemicals, and copious amounts of baby powder lined the floor of the cabinet. Some of the bottles and boxes were neatly arranged, but most of the supplies had been knocked over, their contents scattered everywhere due to a combination of missing lids and an unsupervised baby…at least that’s what Papyrus said.

His little brother didn’t like the Powder Place very much, and at one point he even tried to do something about it, admitting fully that he had once purposely spilled the contents of the baby powder in order to make the area smell like an infant rather than Catty’s litterbox room. It was Papyrus’s argument that cleaning supplies should never smell like fresh fruit.

“Be careful Snas, it may smell delicious in there, but erything be poison. Big people’s use it as a trick to kill off fat babies.”

“Don’t be absurd! That’s not even close to being correct.”

“Yes it is. Big people’s like their monies and a fat baby is a baby that eats alllll the time. Food costs money, so they buy poison that smell like food to get rid of the baby without legal con-see-quences.”

“That’s not true, who TOLD you that?”

“Dirt-Butt.”

“*Sigh*”

Of COURSE it was Dirt-Butt.

“Dirt-Butt” was ALWAYS saying nonsense, though it really didn’t bother Gaster as much as every other source of knowledge the infant found. He was usually relieved in fact. Papyrus was used to getting stereotypical info from the media, but the things Dirt-Butt told him more often than not, actually kept him out of trouble.

If only headaches weren’t still the norm…

 “NO DADDY, DON’T USE DA’ LECTRICAL HOLE! DIRT-BUTT SAY PICHU LIVE IN THERE!”

“…What?”

“dirt-butt told pappy that pikachus were electric mice who made their homes in electrical outlets,” explained Sans, playing a game on his phone.

“IS TOO! PIKACHU’S BABIES LIVE IN THERE! YOU’S GONNA POKE EM’ IN THE BUTT!” Papyrus covered the holes of the outlet with his hands, Determined to save his fellow infants. “Dirt-Butt says only big people can get poked in the butt, he also say-”

“Pikachus do NOT live or make their nests in electrical outlets.” Interrupted the scientist. “No one does.”

“Yes they do! Dat’s why the tricity gets used up. Pichu eat da’ power so they can gets big, is their nutrients!”  

Gaster shook his head. “No. The reason you don’t want to stick things in here is because you’ll be electrocuted. Dirt-Butt lied. You need to pay more attention to people when they’re talking Papyru-”

“You gets elly-cuted cause’ you piss off Pikachu.”

“Did you not hear me?”

“If you poke the babies, you gets zapped.”

“Papyrus.”

“I KNOWS MAH ANIMALS DADDY!”  

“SNAS, MORE SALT!”

“NO, do NOT put salt in your brother’s bathwater, it’s terrible for bones,” said Gaster reaching into the cabinet. He pulled out the salt, but was immediately met with a wet keyboard to the face.

CACK!

“PAPYRUS!”

“GIMME MAH SALT STINK DADDY! IS MINE!”

“No, it is NOT yours-”

“GIMME MY SALT OR I’S GONNA TELL UPON YOUUU!”

“You do that.”

“I WILL! I’ll tell upon you and you’s gonna get in trouble! I tells em’ you taked the salt and tried to make a baby stew…” said Papyrus smiling.

“Wh-”

“I’ll tell eryone you putted salt and carrots in mah bath and eryone will hate you. They’ll go ‘poor baby Pappy, he has such a bad wife, his daddy try to cook him for supper! We should ah-rest that bad guy and donate lossa monies to that baby’s fundraiser so their family can eats!”

“…What fundraiser?” asked the father, sensing trouble. He immediately regretted saying anything. In fact, he regretted it before the second word even came out of his mouth, but by then it was already too late.

“MY fundraiser. Baby Pappy’s Happy Nappies for Crap Bs!” Papyrus grinned and spread his arms out wide as if in celebration.

“’Crap B’s…?”

“Crap babies. Babies who not geniuses like me. Snas say, other baes not as fortunate as us, so I should be nice and share mah toys.”

“…”

“I don’t wanna do that, so instead I makes a fundraiser to get the inferior infants nappies!”

“Papyrus-”

“Nappies is diapers.”

“I know what nappies are,” said Gaster, already annoyed. Though the fundraiser’s name was enough to prove to Asgore that he wasn’t responsible for whatever came from his youngest’s latest money-making scheme, he still had to put an end to it. If he didn’t, he’d have the king’s citizens knocking at his door, and things were already getting bad in that regard.

More and more monsters had fallen ill from Hotland’s toxic fumes due to the fact that the Underground’s air filter lacked the power to operate and the more…unreasonable, individuals were getting upset. With the Lab being the closest medical building, the sick were often brought in and placed into the renovated Medical Ward. What was once mostly a living room was now a warehouse of beds, stretching almost from one end of the room to the other and lined with monsters of every variety.

Not that he was running out of room or anything.

The monsters there weren’t being cured, but rather drained of their magic to create magic crystals, a brilliant, if cold-hearted idea to be sure. This however, was necessary, though it had a severe consequence as it resulted in an increase of the Fallen; monsters who had lost too much magic and so had fallen into a comatose state. If the comatose had a chance of waking, he wouldn’t have dozens of family members banging on his door and flooding his email with questions, but sadly that wasn’t the case. Those that fell, fell to dust. There was no waking them…at least he didn’t THINK so…Gaster admittedly hadn’t bothered to experiment with that kind of thing yet.

I’m raising two children, keeping the oil reservoir under control AND a secret, trying to come up with a permanent solution to our power problem, logging the names and the number of incoming patients, making magic crystals, recording Papyrus’s progress, AND fixing HIS messes; I don’t have the TIME to meddle in monster mortality.

“uh, dad? papyrus just ran out the door giggling.”

“Wh-what?” Gaster looked about the bathroom to find that it was, indeed, missing a baby. “Why didn’t you stop him?!”

“he ran right past you, so i figured it was okay.”

“Papyrus by himself is NEVER okay, you should know that! Where did he go?” He poked his head out of the doorway and looked down the hall. A wet trail of baby tracks led into the darkness and he could just faintly hear the clacking sound of tiny bone feet getting farther and farther away.

“he said something about ‘customer satisfaction’ or…whatever. i wasn’t really paying attention-”

“GET OFF YOUR PHONE AND GO GET YOUR BROTHER!”

“*siiiiigh* FINE. PAPPY? WHERE YOU AT BABY BRO?”

“I SAID ‘GET’ NOT ‘YELL’ SANS!”

Lazy little…

“uuuughh!” Rolling his eyes, Sans shoved his phone back into the pocket of his hoodie and walked out the door. “PAPPYYYY! HEEERE PAPPY!”

“NYEH HEE HEE HEE!”

Wiping off his ruined keyboard, Gaster tucked it under his arm and followed his oldest.

He already knew where the little bastard was headed.

Earlier in the week, while he was sweeping dust off the beds, he had found a little white diaper under the covers. ALL of the beds that once held the Fallen, had them in fact. It was obvious that Papyrus was putting diapers on the comatose patients, but until today, he never knew why.

“…those aren’t babies pappy,” said Sans from far off.

“Course they are! Daz why they sweep so much. Cwap babies don’t do much Snas, they just eat, sweep, and doody in their diapies. Some of them pay wit toys, but-”

“PAPYRUS GET OUT OF THE MEDICAL WARD!”

Papyrus turned his head to look down the hall, then, waving at his daddy, he turned back around.

“PAPYRUS!”

“Shoosh, stink Daddy! You wake da’ babies!” The tiny skeleton looked at the fluffy, unconscious dog-monster. “So tell us, doody-dog…how satisfied are you wit mah pro-duct? From one to a hundred?”

“…”

Papyrus lifted the dog’s head, “Eleventy-six!” exclaimed the baby bones, “I’d definitely wear another! Mah only complaint is the lack of hole for my stupid dog tail-”

“*pfft!* pap-”

“THERE SHOULDN’T BE ANY COM-PAINTS!” yelled Papyrus into the dog’s face. “DIS A FUNDRAISER, YOU BE GATEFUL FOR WHAT YOU GET, SUCK-BABY!”      

“…”

“he’s not answering you bro.”

“Cwap babies not talk much Snas, but the result be clear. They satisfied…and now I must expand mah business!” cried Papyrus, raising a finger in the air. “TO WATERFALL!”

“huh?”

Using his wingdings, Papyrus picked himself up and placed his little body atop his brother’s skull, apparently expecting Sans to take him to his destination with haste.

He didn’t.

“pap, i don’t know what EXACTLY you’re trying to do, but it’s probably not a good idea; you’re naked and dad was-”

“TO WATERFALL SNAS!!” repeated the baby, louder this time. “TIME BE MONEY, HONEY!”

“don’t call me that.”

SPL-SPLASH!

Teleporting to Waterfall, the two brothers fell into the water near the docks, Papyrus slipping from his sibling’s head almost at once.  

“NYEHHHHAAH! WHY YOU PUT US IN DA’ WATER SNAS? THE FISHIES SEE MAH BUTT!” The infant covered his rear end with a tiny hand, using the other to grab hold of Sans’ hoodie.

“then you shoulda listened to me huh?” replied Sans, CLEARLY not sorry at all. “besides, you know i can’t control exactly where i show up!”

Just the area in general…

“DON’T LOOK AT MAH BUTT CWEEP FISH!”

TAP!

A strange tapping sound drew the older boy’s attention, and Sans turned his head to see old man Gerson walking along the docks, cane in hand, while the baby batted at the curious fish.

“What’s all the commotion over here?” asked the turtle, scratching under his chin. He looked a lot more ancient when he was in full view. Sans usually only saw him in his shop, as did everyone else. It was rare to find him wandering around, as Undyne had a habit of taking it upon herself to scavenge for supplies at the Dump and present it to him to selling. Because of her, he never really HAD to leave anymore.  

TAP, SHIFF!

The old man got closer and peered down at the two in the water, holding a magnifying glass to his eye. “Wahhaha, of course, of course it’s you, Papyrus. Giving your brother trouble I see!”

Does he bring that everywhere with him?

“it-it wasn’t pappy’s fault, i made a mistake,” said Sans quietly.

“Is that so? Well you two shouldn’t be bathing in the same place we water folk get our food, might get a taste for skeletons! Wahhahaha!” He laughed again, but the little Horror wasn’t as amused.

“DON’T EAT DA’ BABY!”

“we weren’t bathing…i just…took a wrong turn or something…”

“You weren’t? Then where are your brother’s clothes?”

“CTHULHU TOOK EM’! I seens it, wit my own widdle eyes, Wrinkle-Man!” said Papyrus, splashing in the water.

“Really? Well that’s just awful! Isn’t that awful Sans?”

“please don’t encourage him.”

“They must be pretty mean to do something like that; picking on a poor little cherub like you.”

“Yep, I’s a sad cher-chero-cherrio. A very sad cheerio Wrinkle-Man, baby’s don’t gots lots of monies ya’ know? How I supposed to buy new jammies wit no monies?”

“That IS an issue,” said Gerson warily, sensing an approaching problem. He turned to Sans, but the child only glared at him, his expression giving the answer to the old man’s unsaid plea.

You started this, now YOU can deal with it.

I’m not helping you.

“Ya’ know what would make this little cheerio happy again Wrinkle-Man?”

“cherub, pappy.”

“*Sigh*…What’s that?”

“If you would accept dis diapie.” The baby bones held up a soaked diaper, possibly getting it from out of Sans’ pocket.

“oh, that’s right, i didn’t check my pockets today.” He looked down at his clothes sadly. Whatever was in there today was probably ruined now by the water.

Papyrus tended to hide things in his brother’s hoodie.

Every once in a while, the kid comedian would reach into his pocket to find crayons, candy, a kaleidoscope, bouncy balls, a yo-yo, and sometimes even makeup in his pocket. They were fun little surprises that he enjoyed, like tiny gifts. They obviously belonged to his sibling, but liked Papyrus liked to say “what’s mine is yours,” so he considered them gifts.

The big treasures were his favorite, as they were rare and akin to getting surprise packages in the mail. He’d wake up in the morning and go to the place on the floor near the dresser where he always threw his hoodie and be excited to find a big lump covered by his clothing. A sign that his brother had hidden something neat.

You’d think he’d quit hiding things with it by now. He’s gotta know I’m stealing em’…

One time, Sans even found a skateboard hidden under it. He played with it a lot, and got pretty good, but when he started doing tricks, Papyrus became…unhappy. He remembered his baby brother screaming in terror and crying when he showed him a kickflip for the first and last time. He remembered feeling super guilty about it too. He only had 1 HP after all; if he fell, it was bye-bye big bro.

The skateboard now sat in a corner collecting dust, a sad reminder of what could have been.

“I don’t need a diaper yet kiddo!” said Gerson, slightly insulted.

“Sure, you do! All old peoples need diapies and all we asks in ass-change is dat you gives us a small donation.”  

“A small donation’ hm?”

“Yep, for just thirty-twelve G, you could have this super absorbent, long-lasting diaper. Yo’ donations go to the Happy Nappies Fundraiser where we will buy MORE diapies and gives them to the less fortunate.”

“…It sounds like you’re selling diapers for 3,012g, FAR more than they’re worth. That’s thirty-twelve right? 3,012g?”

“Correct. We uses the extra monies to buy more nappies.”

“That’s not a fundraiser young’un’, you’re supposed to be raising money for charity. If you’re selling these to the babies here in the Underground-”

“I not sell to babies, I GIVE to da’ baes!”

“…But their parents pay for them.”

“Yes.”

“That’s not a fundraiser, you’re ‘hustling’ as the kids say.”

“No! I not hustle, I BUSTLE! The fundraiser be for babies, THEY gets the diapies for free, not the big peoples.”

“you’re either not understanding bro, or you’re trying to cheat people.”

Probably the latter.  

“Daz not too. I buys diapies for the peoples who needs em’ and I use the rest to buy stuffs dat I need...like my jammies. Erybody wins.”

Papyrus attempted to climb out of the water and then, realizing his arms weren’t strong enough to pull him up onto the dock, he summoned his wingdings and placed himself onto the planks.

RATTLE RATTLE RATTLE!

“ugh, pap!” Sans covered his face as his tiny and inconsiderate sibling shook his body back and forth like the dogs in Snowdin, attempting to rid himself of the water.

“Wahahaha!”

SQISH!

THAP THAP THAP!

The infant squeezed the diaper in his hands and whipped it in the air, sending beads of water every which way. He knew it would probably not be the most absorbent product he ever sold, but perhaps the old monster would still want it for catching doodies…?

“bro, that diaper’s ruined, you’re not going to be able to sell it. look, it’s torn…”

“Nyeh?” Papyrus looked at the nappy in his hand. It seemed fine just a minute ago, but now it was all stretched out and worse yet, the sticky parts that were meant to hold the diaper in place wouldn’t stick anymore. He tried several times to get them to, but the front kept falling open.

Sans was right.

His product was ruined.

“NYEHHHHHAAHHHH! SNAAAAAAAS!”

“*sigh*”

“MY DIAPIE BE BOKEN SNAS! NYEH-HAAAHHHH!!!”

Sans got out of the water and picked up his baby brother. “don’t cry pappy,” he said, bouncing him up and down in his arms. “it’ll be okay.” He patted him on the back, but the baby bones refused to stop crying, still clutching the diaper in his little hand.

“Oh dear…hmm…tell you what,” said Gerson, pulling a wallet out of his shirt pocket. “I’ll buy your nappy at 2,000g, since it’s damaged. A young’un’ needs a pair of clothes, right?”

“our dad didn’t sell his clothes if that’s what you’re-”

“Shu up Snas, YES PWEASE MR. WRINKLE-GUY!” yelled Papyrus, suddenly all smiles. “I WOULD VERY MUCH AH-PEA-CIATE THAT!”

“PAPYRUS!”

“WAHHAHAHAHA!” laughing loudly, the tortoise-monster gave him the money. “Looks like this old man’s been outmaneuvered in marketing! I better watch out!”

“Nyeh hee hee hee!”

“…”

“Oh, don’t look so glum, my boy. Your brother needs this practice in order to protect you in the future! He’s gonna be quite the young warrior, isn’t that right Papyrus?”

“…There will be war.”

“WAHHAHAHAHA!” Mr. Gerson laughed again and walked back towards his shop. He tended to laugh a lot when Papyrus was present, though seeing him also made the elderly monster a bit sad too.  

Sometimes I miss the old days when a lot of these little guys were around…

Maybe one day, nature will fix our past mistakes. I just hope it doesn’t need help…or that it’s not too late.

TAP, SHIFF!

TAP, SHIFF!

“…that wasn’t very nice bro.”

“The business world is a harsh one, Snas,” said Papyrus, counting his G. “You needs to pactice too big Buther. One day, you’s gonna need to help da’ baby, ya’ know? Is sad dat you has no monies of your own. Just cause’ you gots 1 hp, don’t mean you’s useless. You gots a brilliant mind, put it to good use.”

“i don’t need life advice from a crook.”

“Kay’ when you gets a life, come see da’ baby.”

“i HAVE a life, you little asshole! it’s just isn’t a life of crime.”

“No crime no dime, big Buther. Sometimes you gots to break the rules to get da’ jewels! Tell Daddy he either pay you for help, or he pay fines for child labor.”

“that’s blackmail.”

“Is genius is what it is.”

Sans chuckled and put the money in his hoodie. “why would you need my help bro? unemployed monsters down here are a dime-a-dozen!”

“…”

“all jewel need to do is lie and they’ll help you out. i don’t need to do anything, heh heh…”    

“…You needs to pactice yo’ font too.”

“fine-”

“SOMEWHERE AWAY FROM DA’ BABY!” yelled Papyrus, kicking his legs.

“i can’t leave you here, child abandonment is a crime-”

“DAZ NOT EVEN A PUN!”

“besides, crawling all the way home would be a bit labor-ious, wouldn’t it?”

“IIIII HATE CHUUUUUU!!”

CAP, CAP!

CAP, CAP!

Oh crap, someone else is coming. I need to get Pappy back in some clothes or-

“HEY! NO BATHING IN THE FOOD SUPPLY, IT’S ILLEGAL!” cried a shrill voice Sans knew all too well. Startled, he dropped his brother in surprise, but luckily the infant didn’t seem to care.

“HELLWOE FISH-LADY!” Papyrus threw up his arm in greeting. “DA’ WRINKLE-MAN JUST LEFT!” The baby pointed towards Snowdin.

“He was just here?”

“yeah, he headed back to his stall a few seconds ago,” replied Sans, glaring at his brother. “while you were…underwater. why were you underwater? this is the breeding area…”

“Right, I was talking to the fish. Gotta make sure no one’s stealing them, so everyone can keep eating-”

“Fish Lady’s growing an army to fight the homos!” said Papyrus excitedly.

“SSHH!! Shut the fuck up Papyrus!” whispered Undyne harshly.

“homosapiens baby bro, you have to say the whole thing or…you know what? just say humans, kay’?”

“Homo humans!”

“…not better. also, are you talking about actual fish, undyne or water monsters?”

“WHO CARES?” yelled the young girl. “THE MORE SOLDIERS THE BETTER!” She grinned proudly, her hands on her hips. No one would expect an attack from the water AND the land, the next war against humans was as good as won.

That is, if no adults found out about it. They didn’t appreciate Undyne’s ingenious war strategies like Papyrus did.

No matter how helpful or cool they were, adults always seemed to have a problem with her ideas, and unfortunately, Sans and Gaster were no different. For most of them to work, she needed science nerds, but they saw her plans the same way they saw Papyrus’s, terrible and “asinine.”

The Royal Scientist’s words, not hers.

She didn’t know what “asinine” meant, but it had the word “ass” in it, so she assumed their father was calling her ideas booty.

My ideas aren’t ass!

My ideas are GREAT!

Stupid, crappy, science dweeb, is just lazy. How hard can it be to build a giant robot? Isn’t there already someone asking him to do that already?

“…A giant robot can destroy entire towns, I saw it in a movie.”

“what are you talking about? are you still on about that robot army?” Sans sighed, a trademark sign of his that meant he thought she was being stupid. Undyne had heard it many times before.

“IT’S A GOOD IDEA!!” she screamed. “AND IT WASN’T AN ARMY, IT WAS JUST O-”  

“for the last time, if you saw something already done in a movie undyne, the humans know how to COUNTER it; they make the friggen’ things!”

Undyne’s so dumb…

“Yeah, but the movies are old, Sans! They’re in the Dump, because no one watches them anymore! We’ll have the element of surprise.”

“I wish to pilot a Gundam, big Buther.”

“SEE?! Papyrus wants it!” she said, pointing at the baby bones. “You want to blow up a town widdle Pappy?”

The infant smiled and bounced up and down on his rear end excitedly. “Yeah yeah yeah!” he said, ignoring his sibling’s frown. “I’s Middle Eastern ya’ know…is mah calling.”

“still don’t know what middle ease is, pap.”

“Middle East Snas! It mean I comes from da’ center of the earth…only is a liiiittle East.” The infant pinched his fingers together, squinting with one eye to make sure there was space between them, hoping he had solved the mystery.

“The center of the earth…?” Undyne looked confused. “You mean Hell?”

“i’d believe that.”

“Noooo! I’s on the WOOF of Hell…cept’ is a liiittle East.”

“Yeast…isn’t that the stuff bread is made from?”

“he’s saying east, undyne. it’s a direction.” Sans pointed towards where he knew the Lab was located.

“…That’s left, Sans-I MEAN RIGHT! That’s your right.”

“NYEH HEE HEE HEE!”

“SHUT UP PAPYRUS, I WASN’T WRONG!”

“you are.”

“YOU SHUT UP TOO!!”    

“how old are you?”

“YOU CAN’T ASK ME THAT! I’M A WOMAN, IT’S ILLEGAL!”

“Is you a baby like me, Fish Lady? If so, I gots a great product for you…”

“I’m NOT a baby, I’M GROWN!” Undyne stomped her foot angrily on the planks of the pier, scaring Sans a little. He had no idea how long those timbers had been there, but he knew people walked on them every day. Eventually, they would break and need to be replaced…probably by the pines in Snowdin.

There are some people who use them for firewood too though, I know Grillby does. What if we run out? How long does it take a pine tree to grow?

…

Who planted them there to begin with?

“Nyeh? You spacing again, big Buther?”

It was something he thought of often whenever he was bored, and he highly doubted it was the monsters doing.

“Come back down from space, Snas!”

No one knew what the inside of Mt. Ebott was like, which is why everyone in the beginning not only scrambled for a home as soon as possible, but also refused to leave it behind for something better. It didn’t make sense to begin with for the monsters to carry saplings with them into a mountain with little to no sunlight. Even if the sunlamps in Snowdin had been immediately installed, it would’ve taken time. Could the trees survive that long without the sun? Why were they all pine trees to begin with? If the monsters came from different environments all over the world, wouldn’t some have brought cacti, palm trees, and other tropical plants?

It’s like someone made preparations for us to live here…

“EARTH TO THE SNAS!”

“AH!”

“Stop daydreaming and tell da’ Fish Lady how great mah fundraiser be! She doesn’t want to buy my diapies…” said Papyrus quietly.

“Why are you naked?”

“s-sorry bro, i was thinking about the trees. how come there’s only pine trees and fruit trees in the underground?”

“Nyeh?”

Why was his brother always thinking about trees?

“There’s a fern in the Resort Area,” said Undyne, hoping to change the subject. She’d rather talk about plants than diapers.

“why though? who was the guy who went ‘hey, yeah, i know i’m being ushered out of my home with little to no warning and should prooobably pack everything i think will be needed to maintain my survival-”

“But this fern doh…” The young girl laughed, imagining the scenario. “I gotta take this fern, man!”

“*pfft!* c’mon undyne, for real-”

“FERNS BEFORE FOOD! FERNS BEFORE FAMILY!”

“NYEH HEE HEE HEE HEE!”  

“AND THESE FLOWERS, DUDE! I NEED THESE GOLDEN FLOWERS IN MY LIFE!”

Sans laughed in spite of himself as his baby brother let out a high-pitched screech of delight. As curious as he and it was, the comedian had to admit it was also pretty funny.

I guess back then, people didn’t have to worry so much about survival as they do now. They probably weren’t expecting things to be so hard down here.

It’s good that kids like us don’t have to worry about that sort of thing…most of us anyway.

Dad’s a douche, but our generation depends on him and he’s doing his best to deliver. Without him, the Underground would be doomed.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he was one of the worrying kids. The future frightened him; his father frightened him.

One of the perks of being invisible, aside from whenever the Royal Scientist needed him, was that Sans could go anywhere and do anything he pleased when off the clock. He knew about the Fallen and what his father was doing before Flowey even appeared to tell him, and he was willing to bet his brother did too.

Papyrus didn’t mess with the draining machine.

Sans noticed he didn’t talk about it either. There were no questions, no threats, no mentions whatsoever. In fact, these days Papyrus seemed to mellow out a bit in general, his pranks becoming fewer and fewer in number until the labs horrendous reputation began to fade. The baby bones had even gone out to recruit other bright minds to help in the lab, no doubt sensing his father’s incoming mental collapse.

Despite how serious their power problem was, the truth remained that they HAD oil. It was dangerous to use, but it was a choice Gaster had other than draining that he didn’t favor. He CHOSE murder, their father CHOSE to drain sick monsters who came to him for help, and showed absolutely no remorse or concern for his actions.

Not good.        

“Does Onion-chan gots ferns?”

“huh?”

“It’s Onionsan, Pappy. You’re spelling it wrong, and yes, those are ferns.”

“oh, you’re still talking about ferns…who’s onionsan?” asked Sans. He didn’t know much about the monsters that lived underwater, but apparently no citizen was safe from his little bro. He hoped he hadn’t caused too much trouble…

“Onionsan-chan be a monster from Japan, man!” replied the infant, enjoying his tongue twister. “I doesn’t know how he got here dough…”

“OnionSAN, Papyrus-”

“They too big for mah diapies, so we not visit the tentacles today.”

“what?”

“Onionsan is a monster that looks like an octopus. I’ve never heard of Japan though.”

“Is where the woah-bots come from, Fish Lady! Da’ Vocaloid and the Gundams and the aira-planes…”

“airplanes aren’t robot birds baby bro,” said Sans smiling.

“Nyeh? No bird? Tsundereplane lie…?”

“huh?”

This alarmed Sans. Papyrus was behaving himself more in the lab, but that meant he was spending most of his time outside where it was dangerous.

Who’s Tsundereplane? How many people is he talking to?!

“you know what? it doesn’t matter. stop talking to strangers papyrus, it’s dang-PAPYRUS!”

BEEP BEEP!

Taking Sans’ phone out of his pocket via wingdings, Papyrus called his “friend” on speed dial.

“Hellwoe?”

“papyrus, stop!”

Who the hell gave him their number?! How long has that been in my phone?!  

“Yep, is da’ baby…”

“hang up, papyrus. whoever gave you their number isn’t a sane person-”

“Snas say you’s not a whoa-bot bird Tsundereplane. Why you lie to cute widdle me?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“WELL SCU YOU TOO, STINK ARROW-PLANE! I BEAT YO’ ASS!”  

BEEP!

“…”

“…Tsundereplane not my friend no more.”

“Aww…poor Pappy…” Undyne patted the infant’s skull.

“don’t feel sorry for him! that’s what he gets for talking to strangers, maybe next time he’ll think before putting numbers in MY phone!”

“Yep, woe is me Fish Lady…”

“are you even listening to me?”

“…First they steals mah jammies and now they lie and call me an idiot-face. I am the saddest of cheerios…”

“THEY STOLE YOUR CLOTHES?!”

“you little shit.”

“STEALING’S ILLEGAL! Don’t worry Pappy, THE UNSTOPPABLE UNDYNE WILL GET YOUR CLOTHES BACK!”

“he’s lying undyne-”

Sans reached out to stop her, but Undyne was already off towards Hotland.

Damnit!

There’s no way he’d catch her, he didn’t even know who or where Tsundereplane was.

I don’t even know what they LOOK like…an airplane probably, but…

“Nyeh hee hee hee!”

“*humph!* i bet you’re pretty proud of yourself, huh baby bro?”

“Yes.”

“you think you did the right thing?”

“Yes.”

“what do you think’s gonna happen when undyne finds out you were lying?”

“She gonna come back and do the accu-sa-tions and Imma say ‘they throw my jammies in da’ lava?’ then I’s gonna cry reeeal loud, and she gonna feel sorry for me.”

“…”

“She’ll say, ‘aww, I didn’t think of that! Poor baby Pappy…I should go out and buy you NEW jammies!’ and then I say, ‘no, no, you’s done enough.”

“…is that right?”

“Yep. I say, “Just gives me some monies and I go gets em’. Shopping be boring.’ Then she gonna go ‘you’s right! Shopping IS boring. Here are some monies…and a widdle extra for the accu-sa-tions.”

“…”

“That’s when I be reeeal nice and say ‘keep da’ extra, you deserves it for being a good friend to da’ baby.’ Then I buys candy and I eats it, then we all live happy ever after.”

“…i’m calling undyne.”

“WHY YOU GOTS TO DESTROY MY HAPPY AFTER?”

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

“I’M NOT SELLING YOU NOTHIIIIINN’!!!” screamed Papyrus, “NYEH!” Snatching his brother’s phone, the baby bones took off running towards Snowdin.

“PAPYRUS! PAPYRUS, NO!”

“NYEH HEE HEE HEE HEE!”

“DO NOT GO INTO TOWN NAKED, PAPYRUS!”

Friggin’ dumbass! There’re dogs everywhere there, he can’t be showing that many bones, he’ll get eaten!

Or they would.

Probably the dogs.

Either way, Sans knew who would ultimately be blamed.

“GOOD LUCK FINDING ME IN DA’ SNOW BIG BUTHER!”

“ugh, shit!”

POOF!

With an enthusiastic smile, Papyrus leapt into a snow poff as soon as his sibling lost sight of him. There was no way Sans would find a tiny white skeleton in a snowfield. It would be like finding a needle in a haystack…whatever a haystack was.

Finally, his Michael Jackson syndrome was paying off.

“Nyeh? *sniff sniff*”

That was odd. The snow poff he was in smelled like doody. Well, actually, the whole town smelled like a barnyard, but this was especially bad…

“*huff puff* pa-papyrus…”

“…”

“papyrus, i know you’re in there, your tracks lead right to the snow poff field!”

“…Those could be anybody’s tracks, there’s no baby here, skelly-man.”

“really? heh heh, well that’s weird. most people who live in snowdin avoid the snow poffs.”

“…I had to move cause’ I missed my rent. This my home now.”

Sans laughed; his brother had no idea. “woooow, that sucks. i’d personally hate to live in a poop-igloo, but you do you man, ha ha ha!”

“What?” Papyrus poked his head out of the snow poff and looked down.

“yep. the reason the snow is built up in this area and nowhere else, is because this is where people dump their chamber pots.”

“…”

“the snow tends to build on top of the droppings and that’s what makes these little mounds, cool huh?”

“…”

“asgore is trying to get plumbing up and running, but it’ll be a while before THAT happens, what with the power issue and all. personally? i don’t see it happening. people make money gathering these snow poffs up to sell for fertilizer.”

Without saying a word, Papyrus climbed out of the snow poff and walked towards the Ruins. It was the longest route to a river, but at least it didn’t cut through town.

“papyrus?”

“Shut up.”

“aww, what’s wrong pappy? paaappyyyy-”

SPLASH!

The baby bones jumped into the river, using his wingdings to hold himself steady in order to keep from being swept away by the current.

“…”

“oh no, pappy! you can’t just hop into the river, the fishies will see your butt!”

“…”

“you know what you need to catch those doodies? what every baby needs?”

“Choke on bread.”

“a dia-”

SPLASH!  

“heh.”

[mnchysmanuscripts]

Carrots and Sticks

Back in the ‘70s, a bunch of scientists who are probably on the flight logs conducted an experiment with moral allegories so blatantly obvious they don’t even need to be explained and yet here we are. They locked a bunch of kids into a room and gave them this ultimatum: “Eat a marshmallow now or eat two marshmallows in fifteen minutes after I get back from a smoke.” A lot of the devilishly-hedonistic five year olds gobbled up the first option like pigs at the trough, but the pious few who didn’t felt the sweet caress of justice during follow-up studies in what is clearly only a logical result in a universe with intelligent design. As it turns out, if you had stuck out the wait for two marshmallows, you were statistically likely to be a better person (exact quote, trust me). The kids that did this grew up more responsible, more accomplished, and even fucking healthier. This is a great study because it blew out a chunk of the research budget delivering us the hard data to reaffirm an obviously true concept that literally anyone of the fucking street could have just told you were obviously true, you fucking idiot. All good things come to those who wait, patience is a virtue, yada yada yada, the sky is blue, this is all pretty much just common sense.

Like I discussed last time, your brain loves crossing out items on a to-do list but hates putting in the effort to actually do them, even if putting in the effort ultimately causes less suffering than the satisfaction of completion. Your brain will take the path of least resistance, which nine times out of then manifests itself as instant gratification. Working on that project you’ve told yourself you’re going to get around to finishing one of these days for the past three years is way less attractive to your brain than just jacking off. With more time and effort comes more potential suffering. You know putting in work will be hard, but often times you don’t know exactly how hard it will be and if it will be worth it in the end. When you’re still in the early stages that project you should be working on, when the path ahead of you is unclear, then that ambiguity of investment and outcome is a real turn off for your brain. Compare this with masturbating, an extremely easy and predictable activity that you know returns a profit after satisfaction minus suffering. Your brain will always want to masturbate instead of working on that satisfying but difficult and/or ambiguous project. This is also why projects tend to get easier the more you work on them and habits become easier to maintain once they become routine. Being predictable is almost the same thing as being easy to your brain when calculating decisions like this. Yes, sticking out the fifteen minute wait for that extra marshmallow makes more sense to us fully rational stoic philosopher god-kings, but those kids weighed up their options just like us all and concluded that the investment of time, potential ambiguity of outcome, and a dozen other potential factors meant that just going for the surefire instant gratification and eating the first marshmallow were worth it. Worth it to their dumb kid brains, at least. But we’ve all got dumb brains, at the end of the day. We all know that acting responsibly, waiting patiently, and putting in hard work will reward us far more in the long run than doing something for instant gratification, but to our brains the risk just isn’t worth it for the same reasons that the kids ate the first marshmallow. Your brain will always tell you to jack off.

The way to put in the hard work to finish that long overdue project is to train your brain to make better decisions. Discipline is a muscle that you can strengthen just like any other, and if you can train yourself to ignore your brains bitching and moaning then you’ll be golden. But, that’s easier said than done, and no matter how disciplined you are you can’t force your brain to want to do things it doesn’t want to do. You’ll always be working against your brain than working with it. Even if you’re master of your domain, your brain’s default will be taking the path of least resistance and jacking off. No one wants to waste their time and put off their passion projects, it just works out that way because of the flawed risk/reward calculations of the brain. So, instead of trying  to pretend this bias doesn’t exist or trying fruitless to change your brain, let’s beat it at its own game. We can tip the scales of those risk/reward calculations, we can make the path of least resistance to lead to favored outcome. Your brain will always take that path, but we can change the destination. If we can dangle enough carrots in front of the favored outcome and block the unfavored outcome behind the promise of sticks, we can more or less leave our brains to make the right decision. Here are some examples.

If you wait for the second marshmallow, then you can treat yourself to a serving of extra marshmallows after you’re thrown out of the research lab. This is a carrot. It’s meant to sweeten the deal, which it does literally in this instance. For this example, I chose to have the reward be just more of the favored result for simplicity’s sake, but this won’t always work for non-marshmallow related endeavors. After all, treating yourself to working on another project after you complete your current one isn’t exactly a motivating reward. Instead, you can use whatever indulgences you fancy as carrots, only the basic idea of having rewards for making good decisions matters. Whatever will work best for you, man.

If you eat the first marshmallow prematurely, you can’t eat any more sweets for the next week. This is a stick. These should have a little bit more structure to them. Obviously, sticks are meant to be a disincentive from choosing an unfavorable outcome. But, it shouldn’t be overly punishing or difficult to perform. In the example, notice how the punishment is limiting something pleasurable in your life rather than introducing something unpleasurable into it. It isn’t the end of the world to not eat sweets for a week, it’s mildly annoying at most. This means that when you do inevitably do eat a marshmallow prematurely, you’ll be more likely to actually stick to your stick and carry out the punishment. If it were too harsh, for instance if it were for a significantly longer period of time or if you were cutting out a significantly more important part of your life then you would be tempted to not carry through with the punishment.

Make sure that both your carrots and sticks are clearly defined, easy to preform, and most of all limited to the important problems in your life. Having a meticulously crafted web of interlocking and difficult to explain systems of carrots and sticks for everyday decisions is a great way to waste your time and get little out of the system. You’re supposed to making decisions easier to make, after all.

Now, all that is fine and all and I use carrots and sticks myself for everything from waking up in the morning to journaling at night. But, there’s another way we can influence our decision making that’s even easier and far more effective than carrots and sticks. We can remove our brain from the decision making process all together. After all, if those researchers really didn’t want those kids to eat that first marshmallow, then they wouldn’t have given it to them in the first place.

Stay tuned for Part 2: Tracks and Societies.

(More mail and questions! I’m gonna answer some tonight.)

[theoddcatlady]

The Legion Studies, Part Six

TW: Mentions of pedophilia, sexual assault. 

December 2, 198X

I never found out the truth about Brandon, if he really did murder his mother to be with a male lover without her judgment. But he didn’t end up leaving the next morning.

The blizzard was so white I couldn’t see anything out of the hanger. If I didn’t know better I’d say nothing existed outside of the lab.

The power outages were terrible now, almost happening hourly and lasting up to fifteen minutes at times. But my interviews were the B-2 group were placed on hold as everyone’s attention was on Chloe.

Whether Chloe’s accusation was remotely accurate, I had no way of telling, but Dr. Lewis was unnaturally thrilled. Every psychologist was present when Chloe’s first interview was conducted.  

December 5, 198X

“Hello… Chloe? Is that you?”

Gone was the sweet if not shy little girl. Father Carter sat across from her, smiling kindly while clutching his Bible close to his chest.

Chloe’s blank eyes darted around the room, a few times landing on the one way glass that allowed me and the others to observe. Several sticky pads were stuck to her head while Lois monitored her brain activity. Her eyes felt like they burned into mine before she turned back to Father Carter.

“Fuck off.”

Lois made quite the face at the vulgar language coming from such a petite child.

“Go back to screwing little boys at your parish. I’m not speaking to you.” Chloe crossed her arms and scowled.

I felt my stomach twist, but I continued to write. Something was clearly wrong. Chloe’s very body language had changed, even the inflection on her words was different.

Father Carter wiped some sweat off his forehead before he smiled again. “Chloe? Is someone else in there with you? Are we talking to them?”

Chloe cocked her head to the side and hummed for a bit before shrugging. “Possibly, you rat faced prick. It’s not Emmet, before you ask,” She said.

Hugo walked inside the room. “I miss anything?” He asked. I shushed him and continued writing.

Chloe twirled one of the wires leading up to her head as she chewed on her bottom lip. “Why are you here, Carter? We both know you’re not exactly a lover of the bible.” She eyed it for a moment before laughing. “You don’t even believe. How do you expect it to protect you if you don’t put faith in its ability to defend you? That isn’t how it works.”

Father Carter laughed. I saw his knuckles go white as they clutched tighter on the Bible. “I can assure you, devil, I believe in the Lord, he is our Savior and he will protect me from your wickedness. I will make you leave Chloe be-“

Chloe started to laugh, completely caught up in hysterics. The monitor hooked up to her started to go nuts, Lois’ eyes went wide as they could go. “Please, go ahead, try! I could use the amusement! It will fail. Like everything you do, you will fail. Now go entertain yourself with my little brothers, I’m sure they’ve learned not to cry by now.”

I heard a snap and turned to see Dr. Lewis. His grip had actually broken the pencil he was holding in two. His face was beet red and before I could ask if he was all right he stood and knocked sharply on the window. Father Carter jumped like he heard a gunshot. Chloe perked up and waved.

“Hi daddy!”

I filed out last of the room to hear the sound of a fist meeting flesh. Dr. Lewis had punched Carter in the stomach, hard enough that the priest was half bent over. Another punch and I heard the crack of Carter’s nose breaking, the priest turning into a blubbering mess. “P… please! Herb! The devil lies! His tongue is that of deceit-“

“I have heard enough of your lying, Father Carter!” Dr. Lewis shoved the other man over, his eyes blazing. “I have half the mind to toss you out into this blizzard, right now, let you try to walk back to town!”

Father Carter began to wail before Hugo stepped in, putting himself in the most dangerous part of the room. Between a father and a man who was accused of molesting his children. “As much as I’d love to see Carter get his desserts, Dr. Lewis, we can lock him up with the B-2 group. I’ll talk to Chloe, finish the interview. All right? I’ll talk to Scotty too, see if we can get his side of the story.”

Breathing harshly through his nose, Dr. Lewis finally nodded coldly. “Get your things from your quarters, Father Carter. You have ten minutes. You’ll be placed in Rex’s old cell. Is that clear?” He said.

Father Carter bobbed his head up and down, willing to take imprisonment over freezing to death. Shaking, with a faint scent of urine clinging to him, the priest took off down the hall.

Ten minutes turned into twenty. Thirty. An hour.

Father Carter had vanished, and so did little Scotty.

Somehow they had disappeared into thin air.

December 6, 198X

Dr. Lewis was distraught. His son and his molester had disappeared without a trace. I’d been plagued with nightmares the few hours I slept, but I still searched. The security footage at the trapdoor showed that he did not leave. A small comfort.

Not to mention things were starting to get worse.

Dr. Leon stumbled into my room with a face covered in blood and groaning in pain. I nearly screamed until he managed to say, “Fucking lunatics! Get me an icepack, for the love of god!”  

The wound wasn’t as bad as initially thought, head injuries just tend to bleed like nothing else. I managed to clean him up while asking him what happened.

After he’d swallowed three high strength painkillers, he began to talk.

“None of the patients would talk to me today. Anastasia claims she speaks for all of them. Not even Kaitlyn’s come from her room. Anastasia’s apparently been talking to ‘their’ doctor and therefore I’m no longer needed. Needed, I’m the only one who sees them, I have no idea what the hell she’s talking about, and I tell her that. Then she pitches a glass at my head and starts screaming about rape and murder and I just get the hell out of there while security sedated her. God, my head… I think she was drinking piss or something, and that sure as hell wasn’t lemonade.”

I could smell it on his clothes. It was absolutely urine. “I’ll throw your clothes in with mine to wash,” I offered moments before the lights went out again.

Dr. Leon swore again and I heard him uncap his flask to take a very deep swig.

“You know, it’s probably not a good idea to wash down pain meds with whiskey,” I offered.

Dr. Leon snorted and didn’t respond.

The lights didn’t come on for a whole hour this time, Dr. Leon fumbling his way out of the room only with the assistance of the security lights in the hallway. I sat alone in my room, wondering if Dr. Lewis had managed to make contact with the outside world, to bring people here to help search for Scotty.

Hugo came in my room around ten PM, the lights were back on but I had only turned on the lamp by my bed. He sat beside me as I stared at the ceiling. For several minutes, we didn’t talk. I just took my time examining him. Possibly for the first time, I recognized how young he was. He’d likely still get carded for drinking if he didn’t wear all the Goth get up.

“Hey, Dr. Barbara?”

I finally sat up, rubbing the cross around my neck. “You can just call me Barbara, Hugo,” I said.

Hugo quietly chucked, and I studied that gap where a tooth used to be. “Barbara. I love that name, you know. I might write a song about it someday. Listen, Barbara… can I stay in here tonight? I… I don’t feel safe. Alone. I feel like I’m watched.” His eyes flicked over to me. “Please? I’ll stay on the floor if I have to.”

I didn’t say anything, I just scooted over and patted the spot beside me. Hugo grinned before he crawled in next to me, close enough that I could make out brown speckles in his otherwise blue eyes. I could smell the sharp notes of a bittersweet cologne on his neck.

“Thanks… Barbara.”

December 7, 198X

Hugo thankfully doesn’t snore. Although seeing him without all of the makeup was a bit jarring at first, I didn’t expect him to have such a baby face underneath all of that.

“Hugo, how old are you?” I asked after he stepped out of my bathroom.

He finished drying his hair and turned a bit my direction. “Just turned twenty four. Why? Making sure I’m legal?” He teased.

And back to the normal Hugo. I snorted as I buttoned up my coat. “You’re very funny. Breakfast sound good?”

“Ah, the glorious stale bagels and mushy eggs, what a glorious feast!”  

Hugo pumped both fists into the air before sprinting out the door, into the hall… and then slipping in an enormous puddle of blood.

The scent hit me before the sight, the wet, metallic smell making me gag. My eyes started watering. I stepped out expecting to see another dead body.

The hallway was drenched, the walls, the floor, the ceiling, all oozing and dripping. I covered my mouth with my shirt collar. I felt the tacky blood stick to my shoes. Hugo sat very still in the middle of it all, his mouth in a perfect ‘o’. He lifted up one of his hands to his face, examining the red, before he puked violently onto the floor.

I followed suit shortly after but at least managed to run back into my room to use the trash can.

Cleaning this mess seemed impossible, but what was more disturbing was trying to find the source. I was placed on that duty with Hugo, who looked like he regretted every moment of his life up until then. We didn’t talk. We just followed the trail of blood, which turned from dragging footsteps to streaks like they’d fallen and began to crawl.

We found Ollie kneeling next to one of the bathrooms. Almost like he was praying while trying to push his intestines back into his body. Whoever had killed him had slit his belly wide open. Hugo groaned and covered his mouth. “Hated the bastard. Didn’t want him dead though.”

There were no tears, but there were pity. I shook my head. “Neither did I. I really hope he’s the only victim.” Could so much blood could come from a single person?

I had almost stood back up when I saw something twitch among Ollie’s spilled guts. I frowned before I knelt back down, using one of the pens in my pocket to to push aside one of the intestines.

The tube of flesh burst at that moment, and out came a very large, bloodsoaked rat. Followed by another. And another.

My scream was so loud I alerted security.

[delos-mio]

Partners- AU Logan- Part 2

“So you’ll never guess where I’m going tonight,” you started just as you walked into the small apartment you shared with your best friend, Sam.

“Umm…you’re going to use a Groupon for a pole dancing class!!” She shouted, thinking a stroke of genius had hit her.

“That was…so specific…? But no, that’s not what I’m doing,” you plopped down next to her on the couch, folding your legs under you. “I’m going a frat house.” You both made over the top valley girl faces at each other, giggling at the very idea.

“No really, Y/N. Where are you going tonight?” Sam leveled.

“No really, I’m going to a frat house. The lacrosse captain is in my bio class and he’s my lab partner now and he invited me over to study,” you blushed a bit, but Sam’s eyes were narrow, her brows knit together in confusion.

“You mean Logan? Like, notorious ladykiller Logan? He invited you over?…” she trailed off, thinking for a moment before her eyes shot wide open. “Oh my god is he trying to sleep with you?!”

You let out a sigh, annoyed she didn’t know you better by now. “Jesus no. No and even if he was, I’m not trying to sleep with him.”

“Alright, you say that now, but I’m betting he’s gonna try something” she mused, getting up to rummage around the kitchen. You turned toward the TV, nothing in particular running through your head. Classes had only just resumed and already you were starting to remember how easy it was for your brain to fry. Grabbing a blanket, you curled up on the couch, letting yourself drift off for an afternoon nap.

When you woke up, you fumbled around trying to unlock your phone to check the time. 6:30. Shit! Shit, shit, shit. You cursed yourself under your breath, trying desperately to fix your hair and clean up your slightly smeared makeup. It was coming together until you realized you still didn’t really know where you were going. Rushing out the door, you quick grabbed your bag and took the stairs down two at a time.

Frat row wasn’t hard to find. Everyone, regardless of their clique, knew where all the frat and sorority houses were. Their parties were something of legend and were the subject of many Monday morning gossip sessions before class would start. You had only gone to one sorority party when you were just starting your freshman year and hadn’t stepped foot in once since. The jungle juice had not been kind to you, and you figured that it wasn’t really the scene for a fine art major. About half way down the block of slightly run down multi level houses, a triangle and an X caught your eye. You approached the big oak door, knocking twice.

“Come in!!” A voice boomed. Softly, you opened the door and stepped into what can only be described as a pig sty. Off to the left, the sounds of a video game boomed through a flat screen. There was a burly blonde boy with his eyes glued to the shooting at hand.

“Um yeah. I’m here to see Logan…” you began.

“Ok? He’s probably upstairs,” he scoffed, still not looking at you. Did he have to be so rude to a total stranger? You rolled your eyes and headed up the wide stairs, each one creaking as you ascended.

Thankfully once you got to the landing, you saw every door had a name on it, saving you the embarrassment of having to peek into everyone’s room. At the end of the hall was a white door with ‘Logan’ affixed to it. You knocked- no response. You knocked again- still nothing. Quietly, you pushed the door open, softly closing it behind you. His room was very different from the rest of the house. Where the rest of the place was in dire need of a deep cleaning, Logan’s room was virtually spotless. Everything had a very clear place, every inch impeccably organized. His bed had deep black linens which matched his curtains. The whole room was clad with blacks and grays; it was all very calming.

“Logan?? Are you in here?” You called out, trying one last time to see if he was really there or if you had just been stood up. It was then you heard the sound of running water. A muffled voice came from behind the door in the right corner.

“Y/N! Sorry! Practice ran long I’ll just be a sec,” Logan replied. You took a seat on the edge of his bed, running your hands along the soft fabric of his duvet. The walls were mostly bare, but above his desk was a small framed picture of him and a girl who looked exactly like him. Maybe a sister, you thought. You smiled to yourself when the sound of the shower had stopped.

The door swung open and it took you a moment to look over at him. All the time in the world could never prepare you for the way he looked. His dark maroon towel hung low on his hips, the perfect V between his stomach and legs peeked over the top, teasing relentlessly. His clear skin was still shimmering with thousands of tiny water droplets. The dark hair on his head was slicked back off his face, his short beard perfectly in place. You quick looked away when you saw him smirk at how long you’d been staring at him.

“Jesus Logan! You can’t put some fucking clothes on?” You snapped, frustrated with yourself for falling into his trap.

“I just got out of the shower! Can’t very well get dressed while I’m all wet,” he laughed, still in the doorway. He made his way to the foot of the bed where you were sitting. Softly, he placed his index finger under your chin and lifted your gaze to his. “You can look at me, Y/N.” A deep blush spread across your cheeks.

“Would you please just put something on?” you whispered, barely convincing yourself that it was what you wanted rather than looking at the perfectly sculpted body in front of you. He let out a chuckle and walked into his closet, rummaging around through laundry to find something suitable. Logan came out in black fitted jeans and a grey tee. Somehow, they still conformed perfectly to his muscles, showing him off all the same.

“I’ve never had a girl so eager for me to put on clothes,” he mused, walking back over to sit next to you on the bed. “It’s usually the other way around.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it is,” you mocked. “Anyways, I’m sure you need to copy my notes…” you said reaching into your bag and pulling out a blue notebook. You went to hand it to Logan who frowned at the notebook. “What now? You asked me here to study.”

“I know, but I don’t really want your notes. I’ll get them along the way I’m sure,” he started. “I wanted to just get to know my new lab partner!” he grinned, placing one of his large hands on your knee. You gave him a knowing look, clearly questioning his motives. He crawled back to the headboard and sat straight up, patting the spot next to him, clearly meant for you. “I’m serious, I don’t know how we haven’t met in the last 3 years.” Slowly, you made your way up next to him and got comfortable against his pillows.

“Well it’s probably because I’m an art major, so I spend a lot of time down in the studio,” you replied, finally looking him in the eyes again.

“Art huh? That’s cool. Do you do one medium in particular or a little bit of everything?” he asked, seemingly interested.

“Mostly prints and paintings, but I occasionally dabble in other areas. I have a show coming up at the end of next week, so I’ve been putting in a lot of hours,” you smiled. It was hard to believe that he was remotely interested in what you were talking about, given the hobbies you knew for a fact he had. But you remembered what he said about getting to know his new partner, and decided to be a little more open too since you really didn’t know him either. “What about you? What do you do when you’re not playing lacrosse?”

“I spend a lot of time with my family, I guess,” he started, a dissociation crossing over his eyes. You sat in silence for a moment, patiently waiting to see if he would elaborate any further on the matter. “My dad owns a pretty big company, and uh, I’m supposed to be on the board once I graduate, so I was kinda locked into this pre-law major,” he said, his voice slowly trailing off. You recognized that this wasn’t something he necessarily wanted to get into, so you smiled as big as you could before changing the subject.

“You know, I’ve never been to a lacrosse game. Game? Match? I guess I don’t really know what it’s called. Truthfully, I’m more of a baseball girl,” you giggled. Logan let out a laugh and turned to look at you once again.

“We’re going to have to change that. It’s pretty exciting, and I like knowing I have a cheerleader in the stands.” He cocked a small smirk before looking down to your lips.

“I’m sure it’s not difficult for you to fill the stands with pretty girls who want to cheer for you,” you let out a huff and rolled your eyes at him.

“Never in my life has someone rolled their eyes at me nearly as much as you have. And I think you’ve only known me for 8 hours,” Logan pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, I don’t usually let anyone mock me like that.” You drew in a short breath at his confession. Did he just call you pretty? And why were you so turned on right now? Who was this kid?

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of a girl who can stick up for herself,” you taunted, pushing him just a little further.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I hate that girls don’t stand up to my shit. Those girls bore me,” his eyes narrowed as he inched closer to you. “But you…you’re borderline annoyed with me right now, aren’t you?” He smelled like basil and lavender- clean, fresh, and perfectly inviting. You leaned your head in a little closer to his, unsure what you were going to do next.

[wendyswriting]

Being a Self-Advocating Patient vs. Hypochondria: Where is the Line?

(Or maybe less Hypochondria and more “reaching for a diagnosis”? Because a diagnosis is a thing with a name and, oft times, a treatment.)

For as creative a person as I am, my left brain takes over in a big way when there are big things to tackle. For instance, when I am planning a trip, the creative part of me is excited at the travel and possibilities, but my logical part wants to know, nail down, compile, organize, and confirm the exact destination, how to get there, where we will stay, what to know about where we will stay, what we will do, insider info on activities, contact info for them, where will we eat? Can we find a Groupon for that? I print it all out and slip each part into a sleeve protector in a binder, in order of use. Maps, confirmations, coupons and certificates, contact information, and names/phone numbers of all people I spoke to about it.

This logical, facts-driven, “I feel the desperate need to soak up all possible information I can about this subject” way of thinking also applies to my health. I research like a madwoman. For as much research as I do, I may as well just go to medical school! 

Symptoms? I research them. What is this lab test ordered? Research it, why it’s done, common reference ranges and implications of various results. Given a diagnosis? Time to pore over scientific and medical studies related to it. I try to stick to purely informative and less subjective sources, though I do start with wikipedia because of the links... I am a linkaholic. Whether it’s clicking because I want to know “What is that word mean?” or “Oh, that’s related? Let’s find out how...”

I get copies of all of my test results. I even like to have copies of the orders to attach to my copies of results. 

I go to doctor’s appointments with lists. Lists of my symptoms, what I think they may be related to and why, and what I would like to discuss doing further. Often they will read this list and address some of the points and leave some untouched.

Now I don’t know if it is because of the nature of my research-everything mind and finding new things that catch my eye as being something I can relate to, or if I am genuinely dealing with more things than the average healthy person my age. I have no comparison since I have, since as long as I have been old enough to focus on my own health, had this general feeling of crappiness pretty much 100% of the time. That IS my normal. But IS that normal? Does everyone feel kinda crappy all the time and they just don’t bitch about it because it IS normal? And because it’s not a big deal? Am I super sensitive to normal, making it more than it really is?

Am I just a whiny, pussy-ass bitch?

Am I only finding more and more things to associate with by DOING this research? Ironically enough, I just tabbed over to do some research and it seems that I am more describing Munchausen Syndrome.

Munchausen syndrome is a psychiatric factitious disorder wherein those affected feign disease, illness, or psychological trauma to draw attention, sympathy, or reassurance to themselves. Munchausen syndrome fits within the subclass of factitious disorder with predominantly physical signs and symptoms, but patients also have a history of recurrent hospitalization, travelling, and dramatic, extremely improbable tales of their past experiences (Wikipedia) 

Am I doing that?! I’ve only been hospitalized once, and they could never figure out the cause and booted me 8 hours later. I DO have dramatic tales of my past experiences that some could find improbable. For one reason or another, I have had shitty experiences with medical professionals in various fields. While I know all of these things have happened to me, do others believe me? Further reading indicates that people with Munchausen will fake their test results and symptoms. OK I don’t do that. Though I have waited to do a routine thyroid panel until I could feel my thyroid cycling downward, because I wanted to see if the low results would show up. Fuck. But no, I don’t fake my symptoms or exaggerate them. So I guess Munchausen is out. Sweet.

Either way, I hate the idea of being a high-maintenance patient, partially because deep in the core of my being, I hate having to ask others for help (I have learned over the years that I likely will not get it anyway), and partially because I’ve worked in the medical field for 6 years and I know exactly how the staff think about high-maintenance patients. They’re annoyed by them. They see their names on the schedule and roll their eyes. They take them less seriously. They judge them.It shouldn’t happen, but it does. It totally does. 

As such, I rarely go to the doctor, even when I should. Case in point, it took me 6 weeks to see my PCP when I was having an acute increase in dizziness and vertigo that was negatively impacting my life. It took me 5 months to see a specialist. I drag my feet figuring that it will improve on its own, and besides, they usually can’t find anything wrong with me ANYWAY, which adds to the whole “feeling like a hypochondriac” thing.

And the average patient that runs to WebMD and decides they have a brain tumor when really, they don’t drink enough water... I don’t want to be THAT patient. 

Funny thing about all of this is, I actually suspect that there is a possibility I might just HAVE a brain tumor. 

And admittedly, I find a great deal of humor in that. :)