#woof this got long. Initially i was going to leave the ask alone but i do think this separation is something some people struggle with so.

[sparring-spirals]

Okay, so I recieved an ask discussing Marisha and Taliesin's interactions last ep, and while I'm not going to publish the ask because it has a level of speculation wrt cast relationships/interactions I'm not personally comfortable with, I think the question was genuine, so I'm going to say a few things.

Firstly, to answer the base question: I don't think Laudna's actions were out of character, actually. I've already got some speculations on why this behaviour can be considered new to what we've seen so far, but that's not the same as "out of character". I can think of some reasons that are interesting and add layers of complexity, and honestly: we're still pretty new to Laudna? I'm much more inclined to adjust my understanding of Laudna than feel that it was "out of character".

Secondly- and this is more broad. I think if you find yourself speculating or worrying in-depth about the casts interpersonal feelings, relationships, possible tension or bad blood, etc, its very important, and helpful, to remember a few things:

1- The cast are adults

2- The cast are professionals

3- The cast are friends.

4- The cast are full humans that we don't know personally

5- The cast are not their characters

And I mean this kindly! With Critical Role you devote many hours of your time to watching these people talk, they all roleplay VERY intensely, you might spend a ton of time picking apart and analysing the minutiae of character expressions, speech, interactions. And with the way the cast poke fun at each other both in and out of character, it makes sense the lines get blurred. But, quite frankly, that only makes it more important that you can separate the two, and conduct yourself responsibly with these kinds of things.

(more in depth thoughts below the cut. Sorry, this got LONG)

The cast are adults, the cast are friends, the cast are professionals. This is my main "take" whenever I see speculation about "is ____ mad at ___?" "does ______ resent ________?" "do you think ______ is feeling upset/sidelined/offended by _____?"

They are probably not genuinely unhappy with each other, they've been broadcasting this game live for 7 years and friends- actual, IRL friends, for longer. They presumably like each other, and are used to working things out with one another, personal and professional. They are adults, they probably know how to hash things out, instead of passive aggressively vibrating with tension at a table. They can talk to each other, they know how to talk to each other, they have to talk to each other because this is also a professional venture.

Momentary disagreements, friction, tense conversations, are going to happen in this kind of format, when they all rely heavily on improv, roleplay, and willingly engage with flawed characters and realistic interactions. If they put you on edge, or you feel unsure about them- that's fine! That's okay! But attributing them to cast interpersonal relationships, trying to anticipate tension or secret simmering tensions- is, in my personal opinion, deeply unhelpful, and only going to cause you grief. We see these people interacting, uncut, for 4 hour chunks. If you convince yourself of something- its going to be very easy to find more evidence, and then, you can't really do anything about it other than worry about the personal relationships of people you dont know.

So, for me, this is my thinking:

1- Tension is largely in character, and intentional, and the cast loves committing to it and know how to separate the two.

2- If it isn't, sometimes heat of the moment or roleplaying Vibes can factor in, and that makes sense, and again, the cast know how to separate the two.

3- Even if its something that extends out, or sticks, the cast know how to interface, check in, etc, with each other to address concerns and communicate, and will probably work it out.

4- It is their job, and their responsibility to do that, if something came up. Me doing rampant speculation and catastrophizing on the side does nothing but ruin my own experience.

5- Furthermore, they're actual people, and extending the analysis and speculation I do on their characters is... uncomfortable, and I personally don't want to do that.

6- They seem like reasonable enough people. They've got a good track record. It'll probably be okay.

So- I don't think you've got anything to worry about. But more importantly, for your own sanity, and enjoyment, remember that the cast are people- generally nice, reasonable, fully fleshed people we do not know, not their characters, or props or figureheads. And proceed accordingly.

#woof this got long. Initially i was going to leave the ask alone but i do think this separation is something some people struggle with so. #critical role #cr discourse #cr cast #spar speaks #c3e16 #cr spoilers #(in the barest sense) #anyway listen: its important to know how to consume media critically but also in a way that like. you are enjoying your media. #know how to separate your reactions and your assumptions from each other. and if you need to step away or arent enjoying something anymore: #thats okay! it doesnt make you bad. it doesnt make the media bad. #i dont think ill really follow up on this- i dont want to Actually Discourse Ive just seen enough discussion in this vein that #i wanted to provide what helps me enjoy my own experiences with fandom. do whats good for you. dont be an ass. yknow. #anyway sorry ill get off the soapbox now. ... and back onto the meta soapbox :')

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Six | Dogbass (Part 1 of 2)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Updates might be delayed/advanced occasionally due to the holidays from here on, meaning the usual schedule should go back to normal by mid January!

• • •

"Here ya go."

"Thank you."

The consistent tremble of your hand complicates your ability to so much as open the can he's handed out to you. Regardless, you stay quiet and struggle with each attempt you make in opening it, though he offers to do that for you not long after your third try. You hand it over and take it back after it's open and after you've managed to calm yourself a little more through deep and silent breaths.

"We really shouldn't go today with the state you're in," Sans says, sitting next to you on the bench, although leaving enough space for a third person to sit right between you. Whether he's trying to keep distance due to your condition or the fact that you're still just acquaintances -- or both -- is unknown to you, but you're grateful for it. The space helps with your dizziness and the persistent feeling of having every little thing overwhelm you, from the heat of the sun to the loudness of the park and its crowds. "The tour's mostly walkin' for hours, so it's not the best idea if you're all dizzy and stuff." His irises fall on your drink as soon as you finish drinking it. "Need another one? There's also ice cream and donuts if you're up for it." 

"I'm fine." You smile and stand up to go throw the can away. Walking still feels like balancing yourself on an ever-thinning thread, but you have a little more coordination now, sufficient for you not to appear drunk, nor for you to cling onto a complete stranger like you had just a few moments ago when getting down from the bus. It's pathetic to think you had to use the monster for support while going down a few steps, when Frisk managed to travel all over the Underground all on their own and without your guidance. Still, you set those thoughts aside with the reminder that you're still weak and that your health's taken a toll large enough to last for a few more weeks before your full recovery. 

You sit back down with Sans and observe the dogs running around the park, some in groups with others of their kind, some playing fetch and tug-of-war with their owners, and some asking for belly rubs from strangers.

"About the envelope…" you say, trailing off mid-sentence.

"What about it?" Sans asks, looking at you again.

Reluctance causes a noticeable delay in what you want to say and an increase in the intensity of your symptoms, these dulled temporarily by the juice's high fructose and vitamin content. "What's… What's the money for, if it's not for fixing my phone?"

"For your health." His face nearly softens up as he says that, though it goes back to its usual, stoic self when he adds, "You must've taken a few days off just to deal with Frisk's situation, and you've hadda use your own sick days, too, so we all pitched in to help you with that."

"We?" You quirk a brow and frown as you think back on the envelope and all the notes you'd read. None of them hinted at the money being from any other person besides him, and it was the only item inside the envelope that didn't have an individual note attached to it. "Wasn't it all from you?"

The flicker of his irises already gives you the answer, surprise revealing itself with how his gaze widens. "Wasn't there a note stuck to it? It's supposed to be from Tori, Paps, and me."

Though knowing it's much more likely they all pitched in with one hundred each rather than it all being from him alone, you have no memory of any other notes, and even less one related to the money. Curiosity strikes, but you try not to jump to conclusions yet. "There wasn't any. Maybe... Maybe it got mixed up with the other notes?"

"The money was in a different envelope though. Did Paps give you just one letter only?"

"Yeah, but it had the notebook, permit, tickets, and all that."

"Then he must've done somethin' with it."

You both stay quiet as you contemplate the situation. 

So, long story short, his brother had taken both envelopes and smushed them into one. It makes sense thinking back on how the letter looked like it was about to burst, but the reason for him to do that and the missing note are two whole other anomalies you've left to find any answers for. It's possible the note could've simply fallen off while Papyrus passed all the items into one letter, but why would he even do that in the first place?

Those questions make rounds about your mind, until you remember the conversation you had with him on the train. Sans seems to realize something, too, and you both act in coordination to your epiphanies by looking away from each other in a subtle manner and scooting back to your side of the bench until reaching the edge, leaving even more space between you. The likelihood of his brother attempting to set you up is apparent, but neither of you acknowledge it to each other. If that hadn't been an innocent and honest mistake, then Papyrus really was trying to push his brother into dating by making him appear a lot more well-off and giving than he seemed. 

"Uh, I-

"Maybe-"

Whatever forced and awkward conversation you're both about to initiate is interrupted by a large Samoyed, big, fluffy, and full of energy. He throws himself on the bench space left between you and leaves his stomach out in display, likely waiting for attention like all the other dogs running after unsuspecting strangers without any pets of their own. His tail wags faster than lightning, and he barks until you give him what he requests, even more when the monster next to you gives him head scratches to go with your belly rubs. The dog's face is pure bliss throughout, and the tense atmosphere fades the longer you pet him.

When you both stop, the dogs stays in that position for a while, body left limp from all the pets. The tense atmosphere returns in an instant, and even more so when you both attempt to boop his snout. That only results in you brushing your hand with the monster's while the dog left underneath licks at both of them, once more helping end the awkwardness of the situation.

"Should we go back now?" you ask, finally capable of pushing through the tension. The ice breaks further as Sans nods, and you both stand up, leaving the dog at the bench, owner left unknown. It's strange to think you're so close yet so far away from the Underground. If it weren't for the state of your physical health, you would've only needed to walk a few more steps, past the dog park and through the gates. 

A high-pitched woof from behind makes you turn around and expect a Chihuahua to come running at you full speed, though it turns out to be the same dog from before. He's back to his energetic state, complete with his tail wagging faster than before and his tongue now stuck out. He follows even as you walk backwards and stares with a tilted head and confused expression when you stop moving. Sans notices you've fallen behind by the time he's a few feet away and turns back around to assess the situation, first with confusion and then with a chuckle. 

"Think this one's a stray?" Sans asks. He then approaches the dog and gets down on one knee to pat him on the head, gaining a few satisfied barks from him. His irises focus on the dog's neck when he adds, "There's no collar on him." He looks up at you next. "Maybe we could do somethin' about it next time we come back 'ere?" 

"Sure," you reply, smiling. "Looks like he's already interested in us, anyway."

"That, or he just wants more pets." The skeleton stands up and signals for the dog to keep himself firm in place, complementing his actions by talking to him directly. "Stay." He takes a few steps back to test the dog, who responds by taking a few forward, following the monster now. "Stay," he repeats, to no avail. "(Y/N) needs to go back home and rest." Sans points with his irises towards you when he says your name, breaking formalities to communicate with the dog. "Alright?"

As if leaving the job of dog whisperer unnamed in the information he'd given you, Sans's words seem to have an immediate effect on the Samoyed, who gives one sharp bark once and nods. He then turns around and walks off, leaving you be. Even the monster looks caught off guard by the results, though he laughs it off while you smile. Your gaze and his own draw themselves to the dog continuing to make his way back to the park, until he reaches the bench you'd both sat on. "Didn't think that'd work."

He slips his hands in his pockets and resumes the walk with you towards the bus stop, mood thankfully much lighter between you even as you both reach your destination and wait with no other people around besides him nearby. His irises narrow as he looks up at you, focusing on your face. "You allergic to dogs?" he asks, grinning. "Your face's all puffy."

Checking yourself through your phone's camera is more than necessary to know what he means by that, and when you do, you bite down on your lip to keep yourself from bursting out a laugh. "...Y- Yeah," you mutter, words followed by a sheepish smile. "I forgot."

"You forgot you're allergic to dogs?"

"They're too cute for me to worry about that." Your defense is quick and unfaltering as you grin down at him. "And it's only a mild allergy anyway. It's cats I'm more allergic to, but even then I can't help myself when it comes to being around animals -- specially big and fluffy ones!"

"Can't argue with that," he says, chuckling. "You bring a compelling statement." He looks towards the bus when it arrives and continues with, "Wanna stop by a pharmacy before we go?"

"It's alright," you reply, shaking your head. "I think I have some medicine with me."

"In that satchel you're always carryin' around?"

"It's in case anything happens while I'm out with Frisk."

"Even when they're not around?"

"Yes. What if someone else needs it?"

He grins and walks with you to the bus. "You really are a first-time (mom/dad), huh?" 

You settle down with him on the seats nearest to the door and place your bag over your lap to prevent occupying another seat. "...What makes you think that?"

"Tori and I go way back. Though we only saw each other in person just recently, we got to know each other long before that, and she told me all about how it was like, both with her biological son and her adoptive kid. She was just like you when she took care of the first fallen human. And even though she'd already had a son before that, she went back to first-time mom mode with the one she adopted, since she didn't really know how humans worked back then."

Though you're curious to know how they knew each other without seeing each other's faces, you imagine something similar to online friendships and pass it off as that for now. It'd be far too much to ask for any details on that, based on how wistful and melancholic his tone alone sounds. "So you're saying I'm worrying too much?" you ask, grounding your curiosity for the moment.

He nods. "But there's no problem with that so long as it ain't taken to extremes."

"Like overprotective and all that?"

"Yeah." He stands up when the bus fills itself to the brim, leaving a few people to stand and one person to sit down where he's just gotten up from. "I'd say you're fine, though."

"Oh, yeah?" you challenge, smile turning to a grin. "And what makes you say that?" 

"You've been willing to listen to me so far, and you're still wanting to understand us despite everythin' you know about us already. That's not really somethin' someone overprotective would do."

"Move over," a man says, interrupting your conversation with the monster. He stands right in the middle of Sans and you, and he directs a glare at you only, fueled by exasperation. Compared to the man Sans had given up his seat for, who'd been limping all the way with a bad leg to the hand-bars, he seems fine; tired, but able to stand firm even as the bus keeps moving on. "Being sick in the head's not a valid reason for you to take up a seat all for yourself."

"Excuse me?" you ask, narrowing your gaze at him. "Care to elaborate on that, sir?"

"You're (L/N) aren't you?" he asks back, scoffing. "Gotta be real screwed up to talk with a guy like him when your kid went missing and ended up in that same place he lived in." His anger's unforgiving, and he hardly cares to register how much attention he's drawing to himself and you. "Why couldn't they tell you about it? Ever question yourself that? If monsters are so advanced enough to build a whole damn robot more human than any android I've seen up here, they could've given you a call or somethin' to tell you your kid's alive and well. Ever stopped to think about it? Or do you care that little over your kid's well-being? Stop for a moment and think about why they didn't try to help your kid outta the Underground." He stops only to catch his breath and increase the intensity of his tone and words. "So what if there was a magic spell keeping them trapped? And so what if they couldn't do nothin' about it? I'd be damn happy if they'd at least try to tell me my kid was okay!"

You keep quiet as you contemplate his words. Even Sans seems struck by them, and simply one quick glance exchanged between you lets you know he's waiting for you to give your judgment on the situation. He doesn't intervene, though he keeps himself close enough to help out, most likely in case the situation were to escalate any further.

"I'm trying to listen to their side of the story before I make any accusations."

"And what does that help you with?" His grimace worsens and he takes a few steps closer, almost cornering you between him and your seat. "Are you dense, or do you not notice how they're tryin' to soften you up by being nice? Bet you a guy like him wouldn't give a damn over a limping human if he knew they were the key to getting outta the Underground." He glares at the skeleton when he says that and turns back to you afterwards. "Don't you see how he looks at you? He's-"

The man's argument drowns out with the rest of the bus's noises, now filled with loud murmurs from the crowd and their unrelenting stares, all of them directed at you. You want to say something, but panic overwhelms all other feelings and any possible, rational thoughts. Your breaths turn ragged and scarce, and the world around you begins to spin. All other words you can decipher from your mind are thoughts on how you're failing as a person and as a parent, more specifically -- on how each and every step you take's one huge mistake and a piece of evidence to prove you're not good enough.

If your best isn't good enough, then what's there left to do?

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to it!)

@the-simp-express

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

[anon-e-miss]

I just started thinking about JazzProwl with puppy!Two Bit. When my dog still was a puppy, he used to eat the carpets and just go nuts. Then he would just plunk right down on the floor to just nap for an hour straight. I imagine both Jazz and Prowl both finding this funny, and a nice break from all the crazy x)

“Why thank you, Two Bit. I did not need that desk.

The cyber puppy sat back on his haunches and cocked his helm to the side as if to ask what Prowl could possibly be mad about. Prowl sighed. It was his own fault, he supposed, for leaving Two Bit unattended for even a joor. As untrainable as the mechanimal was, it was not due to stupidity, Two Bit was actually almost too smart. It did not matter if Prowl locked the door, if the cyber puppy wanted inside, he would merely eat through the door. Just as he had this ‘cycle, again. As he looked over his home office Prowl thought a bomb could not have been more destructive. The stack of datapads he had left behind as he had stepped out to meet with Countdown was gone. Perhaps they were part of the debris on the floor, perhaps they were digesting in Two Bit’s fuel tank. He seemed to be able to eat anything.

“Perhaps a run would be in order.”

Two Bit hopped up and leapt about Prowl woofing with excitement. Prowl ordered him down, he was trying to train him, to tame some of this madness from his pet, but Two Bit had no restraint. Perhaps he would slow down some when he was grown up... four vorns or so. That was a depressing thought. Prowl attached a harness to Two Bit and the cyber puppy yanked him through the doorway. Taking a firm hold on the leash, and giving Two Bit only a little slack, Prowl led him out of their habsuite.

Once he got over his initial excitement, Two Bit trot alongside Prowl, looking up at him with adoring optics. Prowl could not help but feel... happy.  Two Bit was a good cyber dog. He was only young, and curious and excitable. More than anything, he seemed to just want to be with Prowl, but it would be wholly unprofessional to bring his cyber puppy to work. He was a soldier, an officer. Prowl could not just bring Two Bit into the War Room with him to stop his pet from eating his habsuite.

When they reached the trail that rounded the base, Two Bit truly bounced. Prowl gave the leash slack and began to run. Contrary to his reputation as a desk jockey, Prowl liked to get out and move. He liked to race. He liked to run. Two Bit easily kept pace with him. They were perfectly matched here. As they ran first one loop and then two Prowl considered the problem of his cyber-puppy’s destructive habits. Two Bit just did not do well left alone. If Prowl hired someone to mind him during the mega-cycle, he would be happier. Perhaps, someone with a cyber dog for him to play with. It would have to be someone with experience with large breeds. Still a puppy, Two Bit’s helm reached Prowl’s elbow one he was fully grown he was going to be a behemonth. His breed had been nicknamed hellhounds due to their service alongside soldier during the war of Cybertron’s early history. He did not think Two Bit would be much of a war dog. No, this puppy loved everyone he met.

“Can’t even train a stupid dog and he thinks he’s fit to be Prime’s Second.”

Prowl heard the grumble as he ran along the tree-lined path. He did not stop to rebuke his critic, but ran on, and ran faster. Two Bit picked up speed next to him. They hated him, the Autobots. Optimus Prime tolerated him, but Prowl thought at least part of that was pity. As his principle tactician, Prowl had found himself regularly at odds with his commander who’s spark, not his processor ruled him. Prowl recognized that Prime had a good spark, but a good spark was of little use facing down enemy Seekers and gestalts. They had to stop running helm long into battle. They needed to plan, and not just for tomorrow but for vorns down the road.

He was not going to be Prime’s choice. It would be Thunderclash, or Ultra Magnus, or Ironhide. Primus, Jazz was more likely to be chosen than him. Prowl did not have tears in his optics as he pushed himself harder and ran faster and farther. The path turned and he followed down towards the range that served as Kup’s and Ironhide’s lair. Whether he kept his modulated tone or screamed with full temper they did not listen to him. Prime did not listen to him. How did he make just stop and listen? Two Bit darted in front of him and Prowl tripped.  The great girth of his pet kept Prowl from falling to his knees.

“No,” Prowl said, his voice sounded harsh to his own audios. “Whatever you think you are going to chase you will not.” 

Ironhide was setting up training drones. Prowl felt about as useful as one, and he wondered if they would even noticed if he lined up with those things. Mentally, he flayed against the acidic thoughts and with Two Bit’s leash tight in his servo, Prowl set off again. But his cyber puppy pulled free and tripped him up again. Mind full of static Prowl pushed Two Bit away. He needed to run. Run away from his thoughts. Run away from himself. Prowl dropped the lead, took two steps and Two Bit’s mouth closed around his arm and pulled him down. The quick burst of pain as his dog’s denta pierced his plating burned off some of the static and Prowl realized as his consciousness was already fading that he was crashing.

“Get yer scraplet infested hide off of him,” Ironhide ordered in his low drawl. Prowl heard Two Bit growling as he was tugged. Reflexively he wrapped his arms around his cyber-puppy.

“Do not touch my dog,” he ordered.

“‘Bout time ya woke up,” Jazz said, somewhere near Prowl’s helm. “Ya been out cold for breams... longer maybe. Found ya wit Two Bit laying on ya ‘n growling when bots got close. He got ya good, Prowl. He ever bite before?”

“Two Bit is a good cyber-dog,” Prowl held his pet tightly as he defended his honour. Two Bit licked his face. “He was trying to stop me. He knew I was going to crash and he was trying to stop me from falling and getting hurt.”

“He can do that?” Ironhide asked, sounding skeptical.”

“That is what he did,” Prowl said.

“Well,” Jazz said and he stroked Two Bit’s beefy helm. “Ain’t that somethin’.”

[nicolasmartinez-88]

Dog Boredom - Easy Solutions and Tools

Dog fatigue influences numerous pets when they are ventured out from home alone however in the insane world we live in today with work, school and exercises simply don't consider your canine to go along with you each spot you go. Shockingly, this lets numerous canines home be and exhausted. How would you know whether your canine is exhausted? There are many tell-tell signs.

Leaving or Coming Home - in the event that your canine is shaking, shuddering, unnecessarily slobbering or in any event, hyperventilating then you have a genuine fatigue and nervousness issue with your canine.

Way of Destruction - When you return home is their a way of pulverization including bit furniture, torn garments or the garbage bin substance hung through the whole house.

Mishaps - Are they peeing or going out. A few canines with high nervousness will likewise upchuck in the house.

Disdain Mail - Do your neighbors leave ghastly messages on your replying mail or tape notes to your entryway grumbling about the woofing or whimpering while you were no more.

Outside - Is your canine burrowing monster openings to China while you are gone or maybe they've become an astounding slick person sneak out of the yard while you are grinding away. Have they bitten up each digging tool, sprinkler and grass furniture you own, at that point you unquestionably have an exhausted external canine.

On the off chance that your canine is showing any of these practices, at that point you certainly have a canine weariness issue. The following stage is to comprehend their fatigue and discover answers for involve their time while you are no more. Many pet proprietors feel awful letting their canine's house be nevertheless they simply don't have the foggiest idea what to do about it.

Where to Begin

Start by disclosing to yourself that it is alright to let your canine home be nevertheless it is your obligation to give them the instruments to possess their time in a gainful way. What many pet guardians don't know is that the damaging and tension ridden conduct their canine shows, frequently occurs inside the initial thirty minutes after they have left the home.

Numerous canines experience issues adapting to fatigue and the tension caused from partition and you should discover different approaches to quiet and divert them to lighten this conduct. It's critical to remember that canine's don't get damaging or potty on the floor to hurt you or incite a response from you by the same token. This conduct is welcomed on by fatigue and uneasiness.

Canine's don't purposefully decided to be wicked or "get back" at you for letting them be. They essentially expect incitement to keep them engaged and dynamic to evade this damaging conduct.

Discover Activities for Your Dog

The subsequent stage is to discover fun, energizing and engaging exercises that will give your canine the incitement they need to begin dodging and in any event, overcoming the fatigue and nervousness issues. Each canine is extraordinary and has various preferences, so utilize the recommendations beneath as a beginning stage and afterward expand on them with your own insight and understanding of your canine.

Exercise - Now ensuring your canine gets a lot of activity is critical yet the objective you are going for is to animate them in the territory where they will be situated during your nonappearance. Regardless of whether it's inside the home or in the terrace, zeroing in on their area is critical. Make that space a doggy jungle gym that they will be eager to utilize.

Games - You can discover many fun games that you can play with your canine or instruct them to play all alone. One incredible movement is a rendition of find the stowaway. Take a couple of low calorie treats or even a portion of their canine food and conceal it around the room or in the yard. The principal couple of times you play, you will need to make your canine piece of the concealing cycle so they will comprehend and see that you are concealing their food. This way they will know to search for it. Never stow away in difficult to arrive at places, just nonchalantly put them out everywhere on the room. The fact is for them to discover them genuinely simple and keep them dynamic and engaged.

Toys - There are some incredibly fun toy accessible today that can save a canine's consideration for extensive stretches of time. One of my canine's top choices is the canine toys that you can stuff loaded with treats or food. Put a touch of peanut butter inside one of these toys and your canine will work for quite a long time getting every single nonconformist. Our other most loved is the new Crazy Critters or stuffing free toys. My Maddie can pulverize another bite toy inside a day or two if it's substandard yet we've had our Crazy Critters toy for a little more than a quarter of a year now and the two canines are seconds ago figuring out how to destroy it. This is their #1 toy and they play with it ordinary. Their number one game is back-and-forth however the two of them play with it separately as well. This toy is launderable, solid and sturdy and doesn't leave stuffing everywhere on your floor! There are many, numerous other toy decisions. Purchase a combination and see what your canine truly enjoys.

Balls - I guess balls are actually a toy too yet in my home balls rule. It doesn't make a difference what sort of ball it is, Rodeo will play with it and authoritatively guarantee it as his own! He will make a move for quite a long time with us or all alone. My girls canine loves to hurl the ball route noticeable all around without anyone else and pursue it down. Keep in mind the estimation of a basic ball to keep your canine dynamic.

Frozen Treats - Try freezing pet milk, soup or stock for your canine and leave the frozen square in a bowl when you leave. As they soften, they are an alluring treat that they will keep on working at until it totally thaws.

Pup Day Care - If you have attempted and attempted various exercises and your canine simply can't remain alone, pup day care is a fantastic other option. They go for strolls, mess around, get treats and a large number of different exercises to help engage your canine for the afternoon.

Canine Walkers - Hiring a canine walker to stop by the house and take your canine for a walk ordinary is an extraordinary method to split the day up for your canine. It gives them practice and outside incitement. On the off chance that your canine is an external canine, consider requesting that the canine walker invest part of the energy in the actual lawn messing around. This will give your canine a partner and implement the fun of the space.

Friend Dogs or an Elderly Companion - You could consider carrying another canine into the home for a partner yet this doesn't generally work out and can even exacerbate the issue if your canine doesn't need another canine around. Take a stab at asking a companion and their canine over initial a couple of times to perceive how your canine responds to another canine prior to settling on that choice. Another choice that as of late got my attention was old associates. The thought is to locate an older individual that loves creatures and would likewise profit by the every day friendship. Attempt your neighbors or check with your companions for expected up-and-comers. You can likewise check with some retirement offices to check whether they have a creature program for your canine to come visit on specific days of the week. Canines are touchy and appear to know the contrast between individuals with regards to kids and the old. My canine Rodeo is incredibly dynamic being a Border Collie yet last Christmas I watched him take care of business with my Grandmother, who is in her 90's, and delicately take the ball back to her each time and put it directly in her lap. She adored it and I understood then that had Rodeo been invigorated as well as so had my Grandma both genuinely tossing the ball and participating in discussion with Rodeo. What a Great Moment!

Canine Sitter DVD's - This is something I as of late found however I think it is an exceptional thought. Numerous individuals use the radio or TV by leaving it on when they leave to assist their canine with weariness and fits of anxiety. Notwithstanding, presently you can make that one stride further by utilizing a canine sitter DVD. The canine sitter DVD's I took a gander at offered an incredible method to animate your canine genuinely as well as intellectually. The video contain sounds that solitary your canine can hear and frequently incorporate numerous creatures, for example, winged animals, racoons and squirrels to animate your canine. They offer your canine a virtual outside with heaps of creature companions to help them from feeling alone. There were numerous to browse and I intend to give this a shot for my own canines.

Battling canine fatigue and uneasiness appear to be overpowering and even inconceivable when you are confronting a damaging scene and a troubled canine however with a couple of straightforward apparatuses and a brief period and exertion on your part, you can give your canine a lot of energizing and animating activities. Envision the distinction of returning home to a decent quiet, clean house and an upbeat canine.

I left the business world to seek after my enthusiasm of working with creatures while attempting to improve my wellbeing. To do this, I am utilizing my 20+ years experience as a canine raiser and pet proprietor. I additionally worked for a notable veterinarian and public vet supply organization for quite a long while. I have a B.S. In Agriculture with an accentuation in Animal Science and Ag Business and I worked in the Agriculture Business Industry for more than twenty years. In the event that you are keen on the subtleties of how the correct canine food, canine consideration and simply ordinary love and friendship can help your canine carry on with a better and longer life, if you don't mind go along with us at: [http://www.love-your-canine food.com]

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[initiation-in-progress]

This is an ancient fairy tale about the ritual of initiation: a girl is left outside of the village for a check. She needs to undergo several challenges in order to pass her transformation successfully. Otherwise she will freeze to death. The essential aspects of a ritual of initiation are: fear, death, resurrection.The neophyte would be taken away from a community, left alone in the woods and would undergo a series of life-threatening challenges, that would test his strength (both mental and physical), his intelligence, his ability to suppress the survival instinct.What are we busy with now? We are constantly being tested. Anxiety is our best friend. We are afraid to communicate with real people. We are scared. We want it to stop. We have to die to be reborn.We have to undergo initiation in order to become responsible adults.the storyline of the process of initiationNo IT (informational Technologies), but YOUit is about a dialogue.it is a symbiotic relationship.There is no freedom in an organism, but responsibility and synchronization. There is no ego-centrism, but mutual respectThere is I-YOU communication model-------

MOROZKO/ a Russian fairy tale

Once there lived an old widower and his daughter. In due time, the man remarried to an older woman who had a daughter herself from a previous marriage. The woman doted on her own daughter, praising her at every opportunity, but she despised her stepdaughter. She found fault with everything the girl did and made her work long and hard all day long. One day the old woman made up her mind to get rid of the stepdaughter once and for all. She ordered her husband, "Take her somewhere far away and don't take her to some relative's house. Take her into the biting cold of the forest and leave her there." The old man grieved and wept but he knew that he could do nothing else; his wife always had her way.So he took the girl into the forest and left her there. He turned back quickly so that he wouldn't have to see his girl freeze. The poor thing, sat there in the snow, with her body shivering and her teeth chattering! Then MOROZKO, leaping from tree to tree, came upon her and asked her. "Are you warm, dear. Are you warm, beautiful?". "Yes, my dear MOROZKO. Yes, I am quite warm," she said, even though she was cold to the bone.MOROZKO came lower, it became colder."Are you warm, dear. Are you warm, beautiful?" The girl barely freezing:"I am warm, Father Frost. I am warm, dear".MOROZKO came even lower, it became more freezing.- "Are you warm, dear. Are you warm, beautiful?"The girl started to freeze, barely moving her tongue."Ohs, I am warm, dear Father Frost!"MOROZKO took a pity for the stoic girl, wrapped her in warm fur-coats, warmed her with downy blankets. Jack Frost gave her gold, silver and a jewelery box! Meanwhile, back at her father's hut, the old woman preparing for girl's funeral, baked pancakes and ordered her husband: "Bring back what's left of her," The old man did as he was told and went back into the woods. Joy overwhelmed him when he saw his daughter was still alive, wrapped in a sable coat and adorned with silver and gold! The old man rejoiced, put everything in sleighs, put his daughter in sleighs and went home.At home, the old woman was making pancakes and her dog was barking under the table:-"Woof, Woof! The old's man daughter in gold and silver, and the old woman's daughter is not getting married.The old woman threw him a pancake:"Bark the other way. The old woman's daughter is getting married, and the old man's daughter's bones been brought..."The dog would eat the pancake and again:-"Woof, Woof! The old's man daughter in gold and silver, the old woman's daughter is not getting married."The old woman gave him pancakes, and bit him but the dog said the same thing over and over..The gate to the yard creaked, the door opened and there was her stepdaughter in gold and silver. And the old man is carrying a box of jewels after her. His wife looked on in amazement."Harness the horse, you old goat, and take my own daughter to that same spot in the forest and leave her there," The old man did as he was told, took her to the forest to the same spot, dropped her in the snow and left. Like the other girl at first, the old woman's daughter began to shake and shiver. MOROZKO was leaping from tree to tree, looking at the girl. "Are you warm, dear?" he asked. And she replied:"Ohs, it’s very cold, Father Frost. Don't freeze me”.MOROZKO came lower, it became colder."Are you warm, dear. Are you warm, beautiful?""My hands and feet are quite numb. Go away, MOROZKO".MOROZKO came even lower, it became more freezing.- "Are you warm, dear. Are you warm, beautiful?" "I am freezing to death. Go away, disappear, stupid MOROZKO!"MOROZKO got angry and it became so cold that old woman’s daughter froze.Dawn had hardly broken the next day when, back at the old man's hut, the old woman woke her husband and told him to bring back her daughter, adding, "Harness the horse, you old goat, and bring my daughter back. Be careful with the box of jewels." The old man obeyed and went to get the girl. And her dog was barking under the table:"Woof, Woof! The old's man daughter is getting married, the old woman's daughter's bones been brought in the bag."The old woman threw at the dog a pie:"Bark the other way. The old woman's daughter in gold and silver..."The dog again:-"Woof, Woof! the old woman's daughter's bones being brought..."A short while later, the gate to the yard creaked. The old woman rushed forward to the sleigh and pulled aside the sleigh's cover. To her horror, she saw the body of her daughter. She began to scream and berate her husband, but it was all too late. 

[ridingthatbike]

Turn the bike around: Peregrination in Scotland

Photo album here.

We tallied it up, and realized we’ve seen each other in person no more than five times in the last 16 years. But we are important to each other, and in the last few years, we’ve lost some important people, so when Adam asked if I would come over and ride bikes with him, it seemed like the most obvious thing in the world. Of course I will come. Let’s do it. A peregrination is a long and meandering journey, often a pilgrimage of sorts. We named our trip before I’d even bought plane tickets, knowing that we -- two fairly anxious people -- were going to do our best to be open to possibility and not be stubborn about the plan. Our initial plan was to ride a loop in the Cairngorms. Our collective anxiety was high as we took the train up to Inverness and rode to our starting point in Aviemore. A big storm cell had moved in over the Highlands, and it was going to rain there for a week straight. Anxiety crept higher and higher. We looked at the weather forecast, and finally said out loud:

What if we don't do this route? What if we don't ride our bikes in a week of nonstop rain? What if we do something lower stakes? Where can we go to outrun the rain?  ... and all of the pressure and anxiety we’d been feeling about making sure the other person had a good time just disintegrated. We took the train back home to regroup.

We cobbled together a new plan based on the Capital Trail, a 150 mile loop that starts and ends at Adam’s front door. We felt a little sad about giving up on the initial plan, and also maybe like our Plan B wasn’t very exciting or maybe wasn’t hard enough to feel like it "counted." But on the very first day, it got pretty hard, and we realized, oh, this is for real, this counts! And it’s so close to home that we can take all the risks! We can explore every dead end! We don’t have to hurry! We don’t have to say no to anything! We end up having incredible weather the entire time. Plan B is the best plan. Back in January, I set a theme for the year, which is to be unhurried. This is not Hurry-Up Life. Peregrination turned out to be the lowest-mileage, least-hurried, most exploratory bike tour I’ve ever done. I am living my goals even when I’m not trying to. There’s a lesson here.

I’m just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like you.

I am tired and feel heavy and slow as we roll through the Pentland Hills, but interestingly, I'm not stressed at all. Sometimes you push your bike. It's all just part of it. We open and push our bikes through and close about 20 gates, we sing Teenage Dirtbag out loud, and I marvel at the wool that has accumulated on every surface -- on every fence line, on every low branch, eventually on my derailleur and pedals too -- and I begin to suspect that Scotland has more sheep than people. I look it up later and confirm that it's true.

We come out into the village of Carlops, which has a bright red telephone booth and a bright red mailbox, and I can’t believe how bright and vivid they seem in the gray day. Our route takes us on the Cross Borders Drove Road, an old footpath for drovers bringing their cattle to market. It's waymarked with a cow emblem, and we love it. Follow the cow road! We find magical singletrack, a magical abandoned stone building, a magical dirt road, and a couple of sheep who have gotten out of their fields and are nervous and try to run away from us but in the same direction we're going. We don't want to stress them out, so we decide to backtrack a little and cook our dinner, sitting in the grass on the side of the road.

We roll into a perfect magical patch of woods and decide it's too lovely to pass up. We set up the tent together for the first time and I think about how cool it is to have adventured with lots of people, to have set this tent up with lots of people, and also how effortless and wordless it is to set it up with Q, my number one adventure partner. I think a lot about how possible adventuring is for me because of the stability in my life, and I feel so grateful for my partner and for my old friends and for the opportunity to see more of this big ol' world.

I have nightmares during the night, after seeing a flashlight pointed at us in the late evening but not seeing the person connected to the light. In my sleep, the person becomes a middle aged man named Kevin and he comes into our campsite and doesn't say anything, just looks around at things, and try as I might, I cannot make my voice loud enough to call out HEY! Adam gently elbows me, and I briefly wake up and fall right back asleep. Kevin is still there in my dream, creeping around. Get out of here, Kevin! You're not invited!

Spooky Wood

While packing up, we discovered that we’d been left a gift overnight: a long-legged dead bird, draped over Adam’s front wheel. Whoa. Was it a fallen hatchling? Or a failed hunt? We’d heard a lot of owl activity overnight. Or was it Kevin?

We pack up and roll into the town of Peebles for breakfast, and then hike-a-bike for several miles up a big hill, high-fiving at the top. Woof. We skip the mountain bike trails that are on the route, but deeply enjoy the waypoint labeled "top of Spooky Wood!" and refer to every patch of woods after it as Spooky Wood. We are delighted to find some huge carefully stacked cairns on a hilltop, and to ride along some beautiful old stone walls through sheep field after sheep field after sheep field.

The cloudy skies turn dark, and the search for a campsite becomes urgent. We find a patch of woods that is too dense to even enter, let alone put a tent up in. We ride along through scrubby heather-covered hills, scouting and scouting, and find a spot where two trails meet, where there is a perfect tent-sized patch of flat ground. I would not ordinarily put a tent so close to trails, but the sky is starting to spit. We lean our bikes, set up the tent in a flash, throw all the things under the rainfly that we think we might want for the evening, and climb inside. It starts raining immediately. 

Adam cooks in the vestibule of the tent, and we eat dinner inside our sleeping bags. The rain eventually stops and a glow settles on the landscape around us that seems too beautiful to be real. We look at the trails around us -- a lovely doubletrack to the left, and an alluring singletrack to the right. We don't even check which way our planned route goes. The singletrack looks too good. We gotta take it.

Singletrack for Breakfast, Hail for Dinner

We are thrilled to be riding some grand and super fun singletrack first thing, get a little too stoked, and totally miss our turn. We get deep into some steep and technical singletrack that we have to walk our bikes down … and push our bikes back up. We sing “Turn the Bike Around” to the tune of “Turn the Beat Around" by Gloria Estefan. We make our way to the end of the singletrack, down some totally bananas little steep sections with gates that are clearly not designed for bikes (this is a footpath through some sheep fields, it’s ok, we make it work), have a picnic at the junction of two beautiful dirt roads, and then cut off-route to the village of Tweedbank via the Border Abbey’s Way, another old footpath that takes us past a massive field of dandelion puffs, ready to explode at the slightest breeze, and are delighted by our choice to go offroute.

We get some coffee at the only spot in town that’s open: the takeout place at the train station. It’s chilly and a rain is coming, so we hunker down in a covered bike parking area to drink our coffee and warm up. Temperature regulation on this trip is challenging. It’s warm enough to get hot riding, but cold enough that we need to pull out our puffy jackets every time we stop for more than a few minutes or we start to shiver. It requires a vigilance that is new for me.

We roll over to the next town via an urban pathway, and back on out of town via the chain bridge, past some nosy cows, and Adam narrowly avoids calamity when he rolls over a scrap of fence wire that wraps around his cassette. It is incredible: this whole tour, we got no injuries, no flats, no mechanicals of any kind. So lucky.

We revel in the double track that dreams are made of, lined with stone walls and huge blooming gorse blobs, under a vivid blue sky with cartoon clouds. It’s impossibly wonderful. We stop in Lauder, where we find a Very Fancy Cafe and Art Gallery, where we eat several slices of cake and charge up our phones and take baby wipe baths in the bathroom to remove some sheep shit and mud and pretend we are presentable enough to sit inside this lovely establishment. Here, we decide to hop offroute altogether, because we are enjoying this footpath and want to see it to the end. It’s the Southern Upland Way, which is waymarked with a charming thistle emblem. It goes coast-to-coast. Let’s ride to the ocean! A few miles out of town in a big open field, we find a stone wall that forms a perfect circle. We stand in the center of it and look at the menacing clouds gathering substance overhead, and decide we better find somewhere to pitch the tent pretty quickly. The thunder starts to rumble as we look for anywhere that’s less exposed than the hilltop we’re currently on. We roll down the other side of the hill, pick our way across a stream, and find a flat spot nestled at the bottom of another steep hill. We throw the tent up as fast as we can, and climb inside just as a hailstorm arrives. We laugh and laugh and laugh at our good fortune. The storm passes quickly, but leaves a chill in the air.

The moors, the wind, the sea

We linger at camp in the morning, having coffee and cookies in the tent for breakfast, drying off the tent, repacking everything after the mad dash of the previous evening. We find ourselves on a heavenly dirt road in the vast expanse of the moorlands of the Lammermuir hills, lined with heather and cotton grass and positively alive with grouse. The track leads us to the top of Twin Law, where we find a matching set of cairns that serve as a memorial to twin brothers who died fighting on opposite sides of an ancient battle. The plaque on the site reads:

And they biggit twa cairns on the heather And they biggit them round and high And they stand on the Twinlaw Hill Where they twa brithers lie.

We cannot believe how beautiful it is, how incredible these structures are, how tender humans are, and we goof around and take a million pictures before descending on a joyful lumpy track with big enough lumps that I get both wheels in the air several times on the way down. It’s good to get rowdy. I am grinning the whole way.

We take some double track through woods that feel like Pennsylvania, and look for a stopping spot for a snack break, just knowing something good will turn up. We pop out of the woods and find Abbey Saint Bathans, which has a bench and a map of the Southern Upland Way. We put peanut butter on our cookies, and ask a passerby if there’s somewhere we can fill up on water … and someone comes out of the house behind us and fills up our water bottles for us. What is this magic? What wonderland are we living in?

The wind gets stronger and stronger all day. On top of an exposed hilltop, we see that we’re level with the blades of the wind turbines in the distance. They don’t put wind turbines in places that aren’t windy. This is just how it’s going to be. Find peace. We lumpity lump along some sheep fields, and I am tired from the wind and the lumps. We joke that we skipped riding the Highlands and are instead riding the Lumplands. I see that the road we’re about to cross will take us right to the sea at Cockburnspath in 5 miles of pavement rather than 7 miles of Lumplands. Adam doesn’t want to ride any more pavement than he has to, but I am cooked, and so he acquiesces. And soon, we’ve ridden our bikes to the North Sea, where we hope to find a cafe and get out of the wind, and maybe get a hotel and take a rest night, but there’s really nothing in town at all. 

We make camp stove coffee on the hill overlooking the sea and make a plan: we’ll ride the ten miles up the coast via pavement to the next town and stay there, I suppose. It isn’t very appealing. We’ve barely set out when Adam spies a dirt path that looks more fun. We take it, and it dead-ends on the beach. Rats. TURN THE BIKE AROUND! On the way back, we find a little spur trail and check it out. HOLY SHIT! It’s the most perfect secluded beautiful campsite you’ve ever seen. It’s a meadow full of blooming flowers! There’s a picnic table and a fire ring and a tree swing! There is no way in hell we’re going anywhere else.

Headwinds and pavement and castle ruins

The campsite is breezy, which means we get to pack up a perfectly dry tent in the morning. We are pretty tired, and the paved cycling route to Dunbar is brutal. Ugly. Industrial. Next to the highway. The headwind is mentally excruciating. It’s hot but cold. It’s sunny and windy. We get to town and have coffee and express our certainty that we would have cried if we’d tried to do this ride yesterday. Every choice we’ve made is the best possible choice. We eat some food, and then push hard back inland on pavement. We’ve got to get out of this wind. We’ve got to get off the pavement. This feels like a penalty day for our follies yesterday. Morale is low, even though we’ve turned onto some narrow beautiful flower-lined roads. And suddenly, when we can’t take it anymore, we are at the Hailes Castle ruin, and we have mountain bikes, so we ride down the stairs and into the castle. This is the fucking best.

The last few miles to the town of Gifford are less windy, and the hills are bigger rollers. We realize we've forgotten to eat enough, thinking only of the relatively short distance and not of the effort required to ride into a headwind all day. We eat a thousand snacks once we get to town, and get a room at the Goblin Ha’ Hotel, because if there’s a hotel called Goblin Ha’ … who would not stay here? It’s the whole reason we decided to stop at this particular town! We take glorious hot showers and lay around. I wonder what the story is behind the hotel name.

Summon the goblin army

Oh, the story of the Goblin Ha' is better than I could have hoped. Yester Castle was built by Sir Hugo de Gifford, who was something of a necromancer or alchemist or practitioner of the dark arts, and the story goes that he summoned an army of goblins to build a hall of his castle, and there’s maybe also a portal to hell. I mean, the goblins have to come from somewhere, so the portal makes sense to me. We must go there. Obviously.

We ask the woman who runs the village store for directions. She walks with me out to the street and points at the farthest building in our line of sight. “Go past that building, and cut through the opening in the fence. It’ll bring you through some houses, and then you duck off to a deer path on the right. You’ll know you’re going the right way when you pass some Highland cattle. You’ll go over a bridge with a sign that says ‘unsafe structure’ but it’s fine, we all use the bridge. You go down a steep hill and back up the other side, and you’ll see it. I don’t know if it’s the best way, but it’s better than the road, anyway.” These are the best directions I’ve ever been given in my life. We find the ruins, and immediately Adam finds a skeleton key in a cubby on the wall. Maybe it opens the portal to hell, I don’t know, I’m too scared to even look for a lock. We climb all over, enjoying the serendipity of happening upon something so terrific. What luck, what serendipity. The woods are full of blooming forget-me-nots.

We cut through a farm to get back to our original route, and get a proper scolding from a farmer who has had too many frustrating experiences with hikers to want to deal with us. It is probably pretty irritating to live next to a famous ruin, and have a bunch of people bothering your livestock and not closing your gates. I tell her I am sorry to have added to her frustration, and she softens. She directs us back to the road, past this little fenced in building. What is it? It’s a dovecot. What’s that? It’s a building full of little cubbies, for raising pigeons. It’s pronounced ducat. “You’ll get beat up if you say dove cot,” she says, and then tells us that we’ll get beat up if we try to pay for things in euros. It cracks me up, because nobody has even been a little bit salty with us on this trip. I apologize again for the trespass, and mention that it’s hard for me to tell, because where I am from, there would be private property and no trespassing signs all over. “Nobody wants to put up signs!” she protests. Well.

We head out onto the road past the dovecot and realize after a mile or two that we’ve gone the wrong direction. TURN THE BIKE AROUND. We find some pavement that turns into a great dirt road that turns into great singletrack that turns into an overgrown patch of stinging nettle and hurts our legs very much, and then suddenly a perfect little stone tower appears in the middle of the nettle. We get closer and see that it has a door. We nerve ourselves up and try it. It opens! God damn if it isn’t another dovecot, and now we know what it is and what it’s called and I laugh out loud. I would never have known if we hadn’t accidentally trespassed on Lucy’s farm. Thanks Lucy, and sorry, again.

We zigzag across some beautiful luminous golden fields of rapeseed and onto some fast pavement, and then duck through a hole in a stone wall onto an estate where Mary, Queen of Scots surrendered in 1567, and where there is a network of purpose-built mountain bike trails. How much magic is in Scotland if we’ve found so much in such a small area?

We are getting pretty close to the end of the route and it will either be some semi-urban camping, or an earlier finish than we want, so we stop in a small town and fill up our water, eat some ice cream, and re-route again: let’s go back to the Pentlands. It’s so beautiful there, and I want to go back! We cut west on a cycling route, and it’s a little hard to follow and not that fun and we are tired. It’s our biggest mileage day yet. But we make it just fine, and have a picnic dinner in the sun. Adam knows just where we should camp, and leads us to the little patch of woods I’d noticed on our first day of riding -- I’d commented “that looks like a great campsite for a quick overnighter from town!” Confirmed! It’s a great campsite! We find a flat spot among the trees, set up camp, watch sheep tv from the tent, and chatter into the night.

Sleep in among the sheep 

I sleep hard, and wake up as usual at 4:15 when it first starts to get light out. The other days, I’ve just rolled back over and gone back to sleep, but this morning I get up out of the tent and am stunned by a vivid red sunrise. I pause to enjoy it a while before climbing back into the tent and sacking out for a few more hours. There’s no rush. We make breakfast and noodle around the hills. The wind picks up and my body is exhausted. It starts to rain lightly, and we call it a day and head home. Back in college, Adam and I formed the Piss Poor Bike Gang. I put gold foil star stickers on our helmets. I think the only “rule” of the gang was that you had to wear a helmet. I was trying to learn to be more confident riding in the city. Adam was working on learning to ride clipped in. Our cooler, more bike-savvy friends guided us on easy local rides. We fell over slowly. We ate a lot of snacks. I could not have known then that we were setting the stage for a grand adventure all these years later, but looking back, it’s plain as day.

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Seven | Dogsong (Part 1 of 2)

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A strong and persistent, ticklish feeling on your nose wakes you up with a sneeze. 

Albeit, your face is far too puffy now for you to even see what's going on, not including the fact that you're not wearing either contacts or glasses presently -- and not that you even remember where your glasses ended up on after you passed out yesterday. It's all one big blur both in terms of your eyesight and your mind. The only few things you remember after waking up in a hospital bed was Sans at the very beginning of it all, along with your aunt arriving with some fresh clothes plus basic toiletries for you to use and change into after a shower. The rest of your memories are muddled to a point where you can't even remember where your belongings are, how long you've slept, or what hour it is.

The pressure you feel on your chest paired up with a few energetic woofs and a lick at your face let you know who's the product of your allergy. Thankfully though, the dog understands when you tell him you have to stand up. He barks again and jumps off of you, giving you freedom to move and try to feel around for your phone.

Doubt hits you when you find it, and you start to wonder if calling anyone's even necessary, keeping in mind that your emergency's mostly a puffy face and an itchy nose, coupled with blurry eyesight.

Surely, you could find your medicine just as you did with your phone, and worst case scenario, you could wait until a nurse or a doctor came around; your allergy wasn't that bad, anyway.

You try to search for the medicine all on your own first, though it results in you having to question the very same root of your problem for help. "Could you help me find my bag?" you ask, facing down with a smile at where you assume the dog's at. How he got inside a hospital room's left unknown to you, but now's not the time to be worrying about that. "It should be around-"

Before you can even finish your sentence, the dog barks once and runs off, becoming an even fainter, white blur as he leaves your side. Soon enough though, he returns with what you assume are your belongings, based on the colour of the bag's material alone, its dark brown contrasting with his white fur. "Thank you," you say, taking the bag from his mouth. You then sit down in bed and rummage through your belongings until you find some allergy pills and a half-drunken, lukewarm, bottled water, plus the new bottle your aunt had brought you. Compared to the one you packed up for yesterday, it's still ice-cold to the touch, and it's twice the size as a regular one.

A yawn, a headache, and a painful stretch intervene with your mission, so you decide to wash up first before taking any medicine. Countless hours of sleep meant lethargy was just around the corner were you to be tempted to lay down again, so you stumble your way to the bathroom and freshen yourself up, a daily routine adjusted to go by quicker when you hear the door of your room open and the dog bark at the new visitor. Happy woofs inform you you're not in any sort of danger, though you could still use whatever company there's waiting for you with how long it feels since you've last had a talk with someone unrelated to how your health was doing and what happened back at the bus.

"Hey, bud. What're ya doing 'ere? You know (Y/N)'s allergic to you."

"Woof-woof!"

The exchange between the new voice and the dog are the first few words you can hear while you wrap things up, though the dog runs back to your side as soon as you open the door and return to your bed.

"Don't," the visitor warns, whistling for the dog to approach him and chuckling when he runs off to his side. "You're gonna get 'em hospitalized again if you keep doin' this."

The dog distracts himself with the visitor while you take your pills and down them with some water. All that's left is to find your glasses while your face recovers, though as much as you try searching for them or your other alternative, you can't find them among all the other items scattered inside. Most first aid items are felt tampered with, bringing forth the unwanted memory of what you'd been through yesterday and how you were still well under recovery.

"Good mornin', (L/N). Dunno how that doggo got here, but I'll make sure he doesn't break in again."

Another recognizable blur -- made up mostly of blue, black, and white smudges -- shows up in front of you and crouches to meet with your face. Weren't he so used to wearing such similar colours and casual outfits all the time, you would have a harder time distinguishing him beyond that of his low voice and New York accent. He scoots a bit closer and reaches out for your face, hands brushing with your ears as he slips on your glasses for you. It's as clear as day he's already regretting what he's done, judging by the way his gaze averts from yours when you're able to see clearly again.

"You alright? Your allergy's lookin' worse than yesterday's." While it's initially unclear as to why he hesitated after putting on your glasses for you, just one closer look through all the puffiness of your face lets you see a faint, microscopical hint of red on his cheekbones. "...Sorry 'bout touchin' you like that, by the way. Dunno what got into me, but, uh-"

"You mean you putting on my glasses for me?"

"Yeah -- That was way outta hand of me. Sorry if that made you uncomfortable."

You take a second to think over what he means with that -- mind still processing everything as quickly as an old desk computer -- until you remember how his brother tried to set you both up a while back. 

If that was enough to get the one being set up all worked up around you even for the most trifling matters, you can't imagine how the monster's feeling now that he's taken such an intimate initiative with you, considering he could've simply offered you the glasses rather than slip them on for you. "That's okay." You snicker, dismissing his worry with a smile. "It's no big deal, really."

"Still, that was wrong of me." He smiles back at you, though that expression soon fades as he dwells deeper and longer into what's happened. "I did that without your knowledge, and we're not even friends yet. I took that, uh, incident back at the park too close to heart, so I'm not really sure what to do anymore or how close I should act with you." Sans takes a hand to the back of his neck, sighs, and rubs at it, inadvertently sitting next to you in bed as he contemplates the situation while facing the floor. "I need to tell Paps to stop settin' us up anymore in the future. Not only is it unfair for you with all the stuff you have goin' on. But well... I'm not too sure about what being in a relationship entails, either. I mean, seriously -- Being set up like this's really not my thing. Maybe it's different for others, but I just can't date a person or go out with 'em unless I'm real close to 'em." His shoulders stiffen, and he looks up at you with widened irises and a meek grin. "God, I'm… I'm not even sure why I'm tellin' you all this, though. It's-"

Remembering Papyrus's request, you intervene with, "Can I kiss your cheek, uh… bone? Maybe you could sort out your feelings a bit more if you try it."

Seemingly at a loss for words, the skeleton nods as a response.

You move a bit closer to him and press a quick kiss on his cheekbone, keeping all other limbs aside to prevent touching him anywhere else. His face turns a bit hotter now, similar though not as noticeable as when humans blush, so you assume he's going through the same thing despite those subtle differences. He looks away when you move back, though he faces you again when you ask, "How did that feel?"

There's a long beat of silence between you, until he eventually breaks it with, "It felt nice."

"Like in a platonic sort of sense, or otherwise?"

"...I'm not sure."

You hum and lose yourself in your thoughts, motivated by the kiss and his reaction to it. His body language is either good enough to mask any further embarrassment; that, or he just really didn't feel anything out of the ordinary when being kissed on the cheekbone. You try to think back on past experiences and remember how Jerry was a lot shyer than you when it came to being upfront and honest about your feelings with each other. Both your appearances deceived in that aspect, as your roles in twelve grade were like those of a high school movie clique: Jerry was a popular soccer athlete back then, while you were the quiet and lonesome nerd in charge of the library. You kissed him first though, and you were the first to admit your feelings for him after you discovered you liked both boys and girls alike.

"Well, how about this," you speak up, gaining his attention again. "Could you imagine yourself doing anything romantic with any of your past crushes, like kissing, hugging, or just… full-on making out?"

"Hard pass on the last one. Don't think I can imagine myself doing somethin' like that with someone -- unless I'm maybe really, really close to 'em. Other than that, well… I guess I wouldn't mind doin' all that other stuff." 

"So if we both had a crush on each other, would you see yourself on a date with me? If you can't use me as an example, imagine someone else you're more comfortable with."

He looks away again. Still, he nods. "Just with none of that steamier stuff. I've heard some of my co-workers up here say they're all about this and that, and how often they do stuff like that with their partner, but I just can't really see myself in a situation like that one -- Or just… Not yet, at least."

"That's normal, then. Intimate stuff like that isn't for everyone." Your smile grows at the feeling that you're making progress with Papyrus's request. "Some are just fine with what you said, and others don't even have a need for romance in their lives. Just like marriage and children aren't for everyone, romance and sexual intimacy aren't, either."

"Thanks," he says, meeting your eyes with a less tense gaze of his own. "How did ya learn 'bout this kinda stuff, by the way? I think maybe Alphys and Undyne know a bit about this themselves, but, uh… I never had the guts to talk to 'em."

You grin. "So you ask a complete stranger about it?"

Thankfully, he knows you're joking and follows up to it by jabbing your side with his elbow. "You caught me in a vulnerable state."

"How so?" you ask, scooting closer on instinct.

"Things are different here at the Surface," he replies, suddenly wistful. "When you passed out yesterday, that reality hit me, and so I kinda just… froze at the thought of losing you."

"How's it different down there? Does… Does that mean if I were there, I wouldn't die as easily as I would here?"

"Not exactly. There's just a different system down there, and it helps strong-willed humans have a second chance and more at life."

"But strong-willed could mean both good people and not, right? How would you deal with bad ones, if it came to it?"

"That's where the whole situation with your kid takes place. It's not that we wanted to hurt 'em, but that there were plenty of factors that made us view humans as a threat back then. It was them who taught us there's another way around it. But then again, I think those points you've made're important, and that you really shouldn't just forgive us outta-"

"Time's up, mister Serif. The patient has other people who want to see them."

Nearly disheartened by how time runs short, you end it on that and make a (metaphorically) telepathic note to continue with the conversation during your tour, something you both agree on with a nod. There would be plenty of time to talk about that there, though that's not to say you don't want to have all that information discussed right here and now. "I don't think I've said this before, so… Thank you for all your help. I'm not sure I'd even be here if you hadn't been there at the bus for me." You pause and smile. "Friendly hug?"

Sans chuckles and sits down again. "Friendly hug." He takes up your offer faster than the first two times since you first met him. It feels far more natural now, almost as if the previous two had been reciprocated to, but with that doubt still on his mind, weighing him down. "This's probably really damn weird, but you're kinda… comfortable to hug."

"Okay, yeah. That's kinda weird." You laugh. "Comfortable as in soft or warm or-"

"Comfortable as in I could easily fall asleep on you if you keep huggin' me like this. But yeah -- That's probably the reason why."

"So you'd say you like cuddling, then?"

"Definitely better than all that other stuff."

"See that?" You let go of him and let your smile grow. "You're understanding yourself more already. That's good!"

"Is it? I thought I was too old for that."

"Oh, come on." You judge him. "You're a science wiz, aren't you? People all experience things differently and at different stages. You're being rude to yourself. Just give yourself a chance to grow and understand yourself a little more!"

"I'd hate to break you two up, but people are waiting outside."

You both freeze at the sound of the nurse's voice being so close now. She's standing nearby now rather than simply waiting by the doorway, an observation that makes you question just when she'd come closer and how much she'd heard you talk as a result. Still, she doesn't appear fazed nor bothered by anything, so you take it she'd either just arrived at your side or had found a way not to overhear while she waited.

"The doctor should be here soon, so we have to cut your visits short."

In compliance to her words, you wrap your conversation up with the skeleton and tell him you'll message him over your next tour date. You would need a little more time to recover now, so it would only be common sense to check through your schedule, sort things out with your job, and manage how you would deal with Frisk's school days and homework. The monsters were already doing you plenty of favours, and yet you only knew two of them in person, three if you counted how often you talked with Toriel through phone and video calls despite not visiting her home to this day. Asking them for any more help than what they were already giving was out of the question. 

Even if such fantasy-like beings existed, that didn't mean they were as magically potent as most books made them out to be. At the end of the day, they were living, breathing beings just like you, with lives of their very own and troubles just like any other human being you knew. What made you different were your appearances and customs, and even then that was something that could be overlooked with due time and mutual understanding, as it isn't as important as who they are and what they do to live each day like you did with your own.

"Let me know if ya need help with Frisk's school," Sans says, already standing near the doorway. "You can't recover if you don't look for help."

And with that, he leaves.

Whether you were an open book or he a mind reader, you can't tell for certain, but if there's one thing you could use presently, it's words like those.

You barely have a chance to say thank you as other visitors step inside, some familiar and some not.

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The holidays are now over where I'm from, so expect updates to return to their usual Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday schedule (depending on the chapters' lengths) starting from the 16th of this month!

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#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn