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enderspawn · 3 years

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🎼 (I can’t find the correct emoji lol) exile arc tommy?

Oh boy! (opens up breakdown playlist) /hj

Montreal – Penelope Scott

Sleep with a Baseball Bat – Cosmic Johnny

Brother – Gerard Way

breakdown under cut, tw for suicidal ideation on the first song esp

1. Montreal – heehee hoohoo suicidal/depression thoughts baby!!

I mean in short this is tommy saying he wont Survive exile. The intro of the song lists when the singer would be home from college/school and that “another 90 day summers gonna take [their] fucking life” which is rlly just. Tommy not gonna live THAT long in exile.

“And I would rather die And let me make it clear It's nobody's fault But I think we all know That I won't make it to Montreal”

So the thing here is that its “nobody’s fault” bc on one hand it is that he doesn’t blame tubbo but worse he doesn’t blame DREAM. Its just meant to happen, its not bc of anybody, yknow?

“And I would rather die I'll jump before I'll fall And I'm having lots of fun But I won't make it Montreal”

Mans tried to jump to his death before he “fell” whether bc of dream or an accident, hes makin the active CHOICE to end it rather than just waiting. Even w the fun he’s having w dream, he’s miserable and he knows he wont make it to see lmanberg again

“You like to talk about the future As if it's real And when you tell me that you love me I can almost feel it”

Dream keeps promising him stuff for the future. Maybe he can visit to see the tree, maybe he can get another visit, maybe he wont be alone. But tommy doesn’t care, its all fake to him (which like, it is so good for him but fjkdlsjf)

“It's not that it's a bad plan No, the plan fucking slapped I was so excited you don't know how bad I wanted all of it The coffee shop, the weather, the apartment But I don't want anything anymore I don't know, I guess I just got bored”

Okay so. Tommy kept trying to get shit together to leave, right? He wanted to go back so bad and have this domestic life w his friends but in the end he just got so downtrodden that after his shit got blown up he was so ready to just GIVE UP.

“And I don't wanna die I don't wanna get left behind But it's better half than none I hope to god you have some fun”

He doesn’t want to be in this situation, he still CARES abt the lmanberg crew but in the end hes been told that they’re happy WIHTOUT him. He’s not angry at them, not anymore, he just wants them to be happy bc he isn’t.

2. Sleep with a Baseball Bat – tommy and dream relationship baby!!

“And every time you wake up Thinking this could be the day Well something, something just”

Every day in exile he had no real plans. He just had to exist out there alone and hope someone else came. This IS the day he can do…. Something. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t have a goal.

“And when your love is an anxiety attack Don’t settle for that, don’t settle for that And when you wake and find the claw marks in your back Sleep with a baseball bat, sleep with a baseball bat”

Hes been manipulated into thinkin dream is his friend, that dream “loves” him but it makes him miserable! Hes paranoid and stressed and falling apart!! Boy!!! Fjdsklfj

“Siena says you’re getting used But something’s broken in your head And you can’t run away when you need to”

The other ppl who visited him, like ranboo, KNEW something was happening and that he was in a bad place but tommy had been manipulated by dream so much that he couldn’t process it. No, dream couldn’t be bad, dream was his friend, right? He couldn’t leave exile, dream would be upset. Its all what DREAM wants, not tommy.

“Hey, space cadet Are you still floating round the rock That you spent so much of your life trying to get away from? And does it at least look different from up there?”

OKAY SO ONE. SPACE CADET? THAT’S CLARA BABY!! TWO: he spent ALL his time on this server fucking fighting dream, trying to “get away from” him. But now hes stuck “floating around” with him as his “friend”. The last line feels sarcastic and bitter but like. FUCK it hits, yknow??

“It might take a couple tries till you believe it But love is real, you’ll figure it out, you’ll live to see it But you still have to take a couple of falls And you can’t make an omelet without breaking your balls So batter up Is your bed made? Is your helmet on?”

HAPPY ENDING POG!! HE STARTS HEALING!!!! HE STARTS REALIZING DREAM WASN’T HIS FRIEND!!! He still “falls” and relapses into wanting dream w him but hes so much better!!! Also,,,,, “is your helmet on” w the turtle shell helmet (eyes emoji)

3. Brother – IF TECHNO AND TOMMY NOT BROTHERS WHY THIS SON—(gunshot rings out)

Okay so on a serious note this song is abt addiction and while I don’t want to take away from that Serious Topic, it Does relate but w tommy dealing w his ptsd of dream

“And brother, if you have the chance to pick me up And can I sleep on your couch To the pound of the ache and pain? Oh, in my head 'Cause I'm awake all night long To the drums of the city rain”

Hhrhnrng staying at technos place to hide from dream and get better a lil JFKDLSJK. Also “the drums of the city rain” is referenced a LOT in this song but like. It keeps him up so,,,,,, dream JFKDLSJF. Mans barely ever slept in exile so it WORKS okay jfkdlsjf

“The lights we chase The nights we steal The things that we take to make us feel this (To the drums of the city rain)”

This is him and techno livin together!! Like in the first chorus you could see lights we chase being tommy finding techno’s place, then later it’s the lights of lmanberg as they sneak in. the nights they steal is both just time spent together and also straight up the times they stole shit JFKDSLJ. “the things that we take to make us feel” is the gapples tommy always eats so that he can feel safe (also, bc in the og song this is PROBABLY abt drugs and potions are drugs in universe so. Arguably getting a potion effect from the apple means it is Also Drugs? Fjdkslfj)

“I can't go back I don't think I will I won't sleep tonight as long as I still Hear the drums of the city rain”

Go back to logstedshire or lmanberg you ask?? The answer is yes. Both. He feels like he doesn’t belong in lmanberg and logstedshire is too traumatizing for him to return at this point. As long as he “hears the drums of the city rain”, or is thinking of dream, he Cant Sleep:tm:

“Does anyone have the guts to shut me up? 'Cause I believe that every night There's a chance we can walk away So hold on tight Because I won't wait too long In the drums of the beating rain”

Okay so hear me out but. This is just tommy and dream. “I believe that every night theres a chance we can walk away” is tommy hoping desperately for dream to let him go home, to walk away from logstedshire. He never will be permitted, not really, but theres a chance that tommy clings to. He wont “wait too long” while out in exile and stuck w dream bc hes desperate and miserable (also fun fact these analysis is basically me just pmv’ing shit in my head and rambling vaguely abt it but like. Listen,,,, flashback verse jfkdsljf) ALSO. The line “does anyone have the guts to shut me up” in relation to exile!tommy is just VERY important to me. Mans was so quiet and afraid to speak up when in exile.

“'Cause the nights don't last And we leave alone Will you drive me back? Can you take me home? (To the drums of the city rain)”

Following up that last paragraph, this is still in flashback. The days end and dream leaves again, making tommy alone. He asks if he can go back, if he can see home and lmanberg and everyone. But echoing the “to the drums of the city rain” after home CAN imply that “home” has become logstedshire WITH DREAM even tho it keeps him up and aaAAAAAHHHH

I swear this ends up okay and techno + tommy focused fjkdsljf

“Faces I don't know I am tired in the glow”

He feels isolated from everyone during his exile and lashes out at those who visit, to the point he feels like they’re all more or less strangers and “faces he doesn’t know”. Being tired in the glow is, imo, him over the lava.

“Of the freezing club Keep me breathing Don't make the lights come back Can you take me home? We all need this When we leave alone”

Hhhngg okay so tommy breakdown time! Hes in techno’s house (the freezing club) and is just pleading for techno to help. Don’t let “the lights come back” (lava again maybe? He doesn’t want to be Like This?) and just wants to feel like hes at home because hes just left exile and hes Messed Up Over It

“Remember when you and I would make things up? So many nights, just take me down To the place we can hear them play I miss that sound 'Cause now we don't sing so loud To the drums of the city rain”

OKAY SO THEY MAY NOT BE CANON FAMILY BUT WILBUR REMEMBERS SPARRING W TECHNO AS A KID AND PHIL IS HIS CLOSE FRIEND SO THEY STILL KNEW EACH OTHER AS KIDS SO SHUSH FJSDKL. Tommy just wants things to go back to how they were, before everything. When things were easy and they were kids just having fun. He misses it. Before exile, before lmanberg, before dream. But it doesn’t matter, because they’re stuck in this now. With his brother dead and his closest friend being the man who killed his best friend and helped blow up his country. Again, the drums of the city rain is dream. Because of his influence, its all different.

Hhhngngngn this is too long so I wont go into the last outro bc you can interpret it a LOT of ways, esp depending on how you want to Pace this song w the exile arc. But like. The analysis is THERE if you really wanna push it/animatic it babeyyy

#dream smp #mcyt #tommyinnit #exile arc #HHHHNG IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE JFKLDSJ #I PROMISED MYSELF ID FINISH THIS ASK GAME UP AND WOULDNT GO IN DEPTH AS MUCH THEN DID EXACTLY THAT W THREE SONGS JFKDSL #tommy #answered #song ask game #listen the last song is a LIL bit of a stretch but its my playlist i get to put in the not depressing song fjdkls #Anonymous

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popatochisssp · 5 years

Text

Snips & Snails 7/7

Series: Undertale Relationship(s): Sans/Reader, Sans & Papyrus Chapter Warnings: Depression, but otherwise none

In another life, in another dream...

AO3 Link

PATIENCE (Optionally Canon, AU)

“…AND OBVIOUSLY, BRANDY WAS DEVASTATED, IT WAS HER FAVORITE ONE! I SWEAR, SHE ALMOST HAD A MELTDOWN THEN AND THERE, BUT SAPPHIRE AND I……… SANS!”

Sans jolts, his skull whipping away from the window. He tries to look like he wasn’t aimlessly cloud-gazing and…probably isn’t very successful. “yeah, Pap?”

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?”

Sans scoffs as if the very thought is ridiculous. “yeah. ‘course.”

Papyrus gives him A Look over the kitchen counter. “OH, REALLY?” he asks. “THEN WHAT WAS I JUST TALKING ABOUT?”

“………”

Sans has no idea.

And guiltily, he realizes that Papyrus definitely doesn’t even look surprised.

“THAT’S HOW I KNOW IT’S SERIOUS,” he says, almost to himself. “NO JOKES. NOT EVEN A PUN!”

Aw, hell.

Sans forces a grin, shooting a cheeky wink Pap’s way. “hey now, if all ya’ wanted was to hear a punch-line, i can—”

“NO, SANS, IT’S TOO LATE FOR THAT, NOW. YOU’RE ALL OUT OF SORTS, WHAT’S GOING ON WITH YOU?”

“…” Maybe it wasn’t too late? “nothin’, i’m just sorta hungry. what’cha makin’?”

No dice—Papyrus raises his browbones emphatically, like Sans had just proved his point.

“I DON’T KNOW, SANS,” he says with impressive sarcasm. “I SEEM TO BE SHAPING SOME MEAT HERE. IT LOOKS SOMEWHAT LIKE A LOAF. I WONDER IF THERE’S A NAME FOR SUCH A DISH, THAT I’VE BEEN STANDING HERE MAKING RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU FOR TWENTY MINUTES.”

…damn it.

Sans sighs.

“alright, ya’ got me,” he reluctantly admits. “i’m…m’just a little…tired, i guess… seriously, don’t worry about it.”

“…YOU’RE REALLY GOING TO MAKE ME BRING IT UP, AREN’T YOU.”

“bring what up?”

“THAT YOU’VE BEEN ‘TIRED’ FOR MONTHS?” Papyrus wonders rhetorically. “THAT YOUR ‘NAPS’ ARE GETTING RIDICULOUS, EVEN FOR YOU? THAT THERE MIGHT BE A VERY SERIOUS THING HAPPENING HERE THAT STARTS WITH A ‘D’?”

“…phew. okay, that’s some real heavy stuff, bro, but i mean… if you really think i gotta get laid that bad…”

“YOU DO—………UGH! VULGAR!” Papyrus throws his hands up in frustration. “YOU ARE VULGAR AND THE D-WORD IS DEPRESSION, SANS, I’M WORRIED YOU’RE DEPRESSED!”

If Sans had a stomach, he thinks it’d have dropped at those words.

Or maybe twisted up in a knot. A real fancy, complicated one, too.

His discomfort must show on his skull—he really is losing it lately—because his brother sags a little, looking apologetic.

“I KNOW,” he says, “I KNOW THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE LAST THING YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT, AND THAT’S…FINE.”

It sounds a little like it physically hurts him to say that.

Naturally, Sans is wary.

“…is it?”

“YES,” Papyrus assures through gritted teeth. “BUT! IF YOU DON’T WANT TO TALK! YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!”

Sans feels a spark of emotion in his soul.

It’s faint, only a flicker, but after months of the alternative, any feeling seems welcome.

Even irritation.

“yeah, sure thing,” he quips. “i’ll just cheer up real quick, problem solved.”

“THAT’S…!” A quiet huff of breath. “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT…”

…Yeah.

Yeah, Sans knows that.

As always, Papyrus is just…trying to help his lazy slob of a brother.

And Sans is…being a total dick to him for no reason.

damn it.

“sorry, Pap…”

“DON’T APOLOGIZE. IT’S FINE.”

Of course it is. It always is, isn’t it?

Even when it’s not.

Sans just…doesn’t have it in him to argue.

“what……what is it i’m supposed to ‘do’?” he asks, trying to act like he cares.

“ANYTHING?” Papyrus tries weakly. “I… WE’RE ON THE SURFACE, SANS! THE THING OUR ENTIRE SPECIES HAS BEEN WISHING FOR, FOR…EVER!”

“yeah. s’great.”

“NOT FOR YOU,” Papyrus frowns. “AND I…I DON’T KNOW WHY IT’S NOT GREAT FOR YOU.”

Sans wished he had the words to explain; the drive to explain.

(How can he be happy when there’s an inexplicable anomaly out there, randomly altering the time stream? How can he care about anything when he doesn’t know if—or more accurately, when—this timeline is going to end? Since the data’s already shown that exact thing happening, happened, going to happen again, over and over and over and over…)

(He can’t trust this. He can’t trust anything. He just wants…)

But he doesn’t have the words. He doesn’t have the drive.

And he definitely doesn’t have the hope his brother has.

So Sans just stares at the kitchen counter and doesn’t say anything.

“BUT…I DON’T NEED TO KNOW WHY.”

…Sans looks up.

“ALL I NEED TO DO…IS BE HERE! AND TO REMIND YOU I’M HERE AND THAT…WE’RE HERE, UP HERE, AFTER SO STUPIDLY LONG, AND ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE! SO YOU HAVE TO GO DO SOMETHING!” An enviable note of steely determination enters Papyrus’ voice as he continues, “PICK UP A NEW HOBBY, FIND A THERAPY GROUP, GET AN EMOTIONAL SUPPORT ANIMAL, I DON’T CARE, JUST…SOMETHING!”

He softens just a little, adding, “I HATE WATCHING YOU JUST…GOING THROUGH THE MOTIONS, SANS. I…I NEED YOU TO TRY.”

And that…

Stars above, that’s what breaks him.

Sans slumps, defeated. He finds he…can’t quite look Papyrus in the eye-socket so he turns to the window again.

The sky is blue and the clouds are fluffy and it’s…

However temporary, it is beautiful.

“alright,” he says. “i’ll…i’ll try…. somethin’.”

Sans must mean it because Papyrus looks relieved.

But more importantly, he lets the topic go and gets back to talking about the girls at his work.

And Sans can pretend for awhile that he didn’t just make a monumentally stupid promise.

Again.

He really hates it when he does that.

So…a hobby.

That sounds alarmingly like work and Sans has no idea where he’d even start.

Picking an entirely new skill to learn would probably require him to have an opinion and make a choice, and his only investment in…anything…right now is that his bro is a master at puppy-dog eye-sockets and Sans can’t not do the bare minimum to appease him.

Hobby’s out.

Therapy group sounds a little easier—go sit in a circle with a bunch of other sad-sacks and just talk about whatever, right…? —but in practice, maybe not.

Sans doesn’t think therapy groups exist for the shit he’s wrestling with…or maybe he’s just not looking in the right places?

‘TEMPORAL SHENANIGANS RUINING YOUR LIFE – OPEN TO IDIOTS, CRAZIES, AND GENUINE DELUSIONALS ALIKE! WEDNESDAY EVENINGS FROM 6 TO 7 IN THE LIBRARY MEETING AREA. BRING YOUR OWN TINFOIL HATS!’

Sans snorts at the thought and it’s the closest he’s come to a real laugh in longer than he cares to admit.

Papyrus is right, this is bad, even for him.

But self-help group is definitely out, too.

Which pretty much just leaves ‘emotional support animal’ on the table, lest Sans actually have to come up with an idea of his own, and pfft.

He gives the matter some thought and comes to a very profound conclusion.

When it comes right down to it…aren’t all animals emotional support animals?

Sans thinks he likes that logic.

No need to see any professionals or be diagnosed as something, or have to research trainers and qualifications and whatever other rigamarole might be involved in this The Official Way.

Regular ol’ animal shelters are a dime a dozen. He can picture at least five of the damn things scattered all around town, all equally easy to shortcut to, pick something out, go home and be done with it.

In the end, the one he decides on is entirely thoughtless. It’s a little place, one he thinks he probably spotted from the nearby park he dropped Tori and Frisk off at sometimes.

Just as good a place as any to get a pet from, he figures.

Sans shoves his hands in his pockets and strolls on in.

It’s…a ghost town.

The lobby is empty, just a bunch of visitor chairs without anybody in ‘em. It’s quiet, almost dead-silent, and if it weren’t for the distant sound of barking, he might’ve thought the place was actually abandoned.

There’s a front desk, too, with some pens and business cards, but nobody manning it. Sans cranes his neck a little and thinks he can almost see a blur of somebody disappearing into the back.

lunch break, he guesses. just my luck.

He sighs, surprising himself with a stab of annoyed frustration, and starts to turn on his heel.

Out of the corner of his eye-socket, he sees another motion blur—somebody striding purposefully past a doorway. It makes him pause long enough for the blur to double back and suddenly, he’s meeting eyes with…

You.

…Probably the roughest-looking human Sans has seen up here so far.

“Oh, hi!” you say, introducing yourself in a perfectly cheerful voice. “Can I help you with anything?”

But Sans isn’t fooled.

Not with your real feelings written all over your face.

Bags under your eyes, a tense edge to your grin, and a general vibe that just screams frazzled…

You’re busy. You have a lot of really important stuff to do right now and the last thing you want is to be detouring to help this grubby-looking skeleton that just wandered into your shelter.

welp. too bad.

“name’s sans,” he says, extending his hand. “sans the skeleton.”

You courteously reach out in return.

Sans watches your hand intently. He can’t help but notice a mark on it, angry red and alarmingly fresh—a scar?—and it almost makes him reconsider what he’s about to do…

But hey, he’s at an animal shelter. They probably wouldn’t hire dangerous, street-brawling, knife-fighting maniacs to run the place, as tense and on-edge as you might look.

He probably doesn’t need to Check you.

Your hand grasps his and Sans’ favorite melody in the world rings out in the silence of the lobby.

PFFFTTHHHBBBFFFFFFFFTTTT…!

You freeze, your eyes going wide. Time almost seems to stand still in the moment you take to process what just happened, Sans waiting for your reaction to find out the type of person you are.

He sees shock flash on your face, some confusion and maybe just a touch of embarrassment. And then…

moment of truth…

You laugh.

“Hahahaha, oh my god!” You pull back your hand to cover your mouth, like you could somehow hide the broad grin blooming across your face. “Is that a whoopie cushion?! I, haha, oh man, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those in real life!”

Sans smiles back and quicker than he has in weeks, he quips, “wow, you poor, deprived human… that’s a shame.”

You snicker and you look…a little lighter, when you’re laughing; softer and leagues more approachable than you were just a minute ago.

Sans was way off: you’re no scary, knife-fighting maniac, just a busy, stressed out human.

One with a fantastic sense of humor, no less.

“well,” Sans drawls, pleasantly surprised, “i came here lookin’ to adopt, but it seems pretty dead. maybe it’s me.”

Undead jokes—they killed with humans every time, and you’re no exception, laughing even as you start to look a little sheepish.

“No, no, it’s…not just you,” you say apologetically. “We’re a little understaffed right now…”

Sans watches you glance over at the front desk, looking a little irritated, but you’re already smiling again when you turn back to him.

“But it’s great that you’re looking to adopt! Was there any kind of pet you had in mind, or…?”

Sans shrugs.

“was thinkin’ maybe a midsize. used is fine, but it’s gotta be good condition, probably somethin’ in a nice black or calico. classy, y’know?”

You’re already struggling not to laugh.

Sans winks at you, chuckling, “nah, m’joshin’ ya’, i don’t have anything in mind. any chance you could just show me around? see if anything tickles my cat fancy?”

“Pfft…! Yeah,” you say, “I think we can accommodate that! Come on back with me, I’ll show you some of our inmates.”

You lead the way and Sans follows after you.

The room you bring him to is lined wall-to-wall with cats—dozens of big eyes in fluffy little faces peering out at him—and stars above, they’re all so friggin’ cute.

A grumpy-looking orange one yowls when it catches him looking at it and Sans scoffs.

“‘innocent,’” he says, rolling his eye-lights, “i bet. that’s what they all say. nice try, pal.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you spoke cat,” you reply, sounding delighted.

And of course, what else can Sans say to that except, “you kitten? m’fluent.”

Your smile is wide and amused and Sans can’t quite remember the last time he had such a good audience.

…Or the last time he cared about having one.

“Feel free to check out the merchandise,” you invite with a playful sweep of your arm. “If you want to spring anybody for some playtime, just let me know.”

Sans dutifully surveys the room of future feline friends under your encouraging gaze.

There’s fat cats and skinny cats, fluffy cats and sleek cats, young ones and old ones all in a fuzzy rainbow of colors.

He talks to a couple, pokes at some ears and paws (and only gets bapped for his audacity once), scratches a chin or two…

But really…

Sans’ metaphorical heart isn’t in it.

Much as his mood’s improved since walking into this place, he’s…he’s still really only here because of Papyrus.

And he doesn’t even feel up to lying about it.

“mmm, sorry to say nobody’s sticking out,” he admits to you with a half-hearted grimace. “y’see…m’kinda just lookin’ for my brother? so, uh…not a lotta strong feelings on this, y’know?”

…Or on much of anything else, for that matter.

Sans weighs the merits of throwing in a quick joke about being ‘dead on the inside, too,’ but decides against it. You don’t seem like the type to appreciate a joke quite that nihilist and there’s no point bringing down your nice mood.

He scratches at his cheek, forcefully injecting some humor into his tone to ask, “i don’t suppose you’d have any expert recommendations, huh?”

Sans isn’t expecting you to actually consider it, or the look of cautious hope that crosses your face.

“Is…is your brother a cat-person, too, or…would a dog be an option?”

“sure,” Sans decides after a moment. “Pap loves dogs.”

It wasn’t a complete lie: it was really just the one dog Papyrus hated, and if Sans managed to come home with an animal of similar temperament, then…

Maybe it’d serve his meddling brother right, trying to force Sans to take care of his mental health.

“Great!” you chirp, heading towards the door. “I think I’ve got just the guy. I’ll take you to the playroom and bring him out for you!”

Your enthusiasm is…odd.

Sans can’t quite put his phalange on why yet, but in a weird way, it’s also kinda…catching.

He’ll give you one thing—he’s definitely intrigued, now.

In short order, you lead him to a big open room full of worn and colorful toys and disappear for a couple minutes.

When you return, you’re holding the leash of a scruffy mop of black and white with a smile almost as winning as yours.

“This is Oreo!” you proclaim as the dog all but trots up to Sans.

He’s a good-looking little fella, with ice-blue eyes and one ear at a jauntily crooked angle, and between his sprightly grin and his wagging tail Sans would bet dollars to donuts that he’s nothing less than a lovable goof.

A perfect fit for their home.

Sans has to wonder for a second if you’d done a cold-read on him or if you were just that good at matchmaking after however long you’d worked at this place.

Sans grins, holding his hand out in invitation. “hey, oreo, what’s cookie’n?”

Oreo happily approaches…and completely bypasses Sans’ hand, dropping his head to snuffle at his slippers instead.

“pfft… ya’ missed, pal.”

Your laughter rings out again. “Yeah,” you say, “he, uh…he just sorta does that? I think it’s how he says ‘hi’ to people.”

“ah,” Sans says, like you’ve explained everything, “language barrier. i don’t speak dog, just cat.”

Oreo eventually finishes his greeting ritual and Sans gives it another shot, reaching out to give the guy a pat on the head.

Oreo’s ears flick back and he ducks away.

Before he can even ask, you’re reaching out to hold the dog and awkwardly explaining, “Oh, that’s…he doesn’t…really like it when people touch his face, he… he kinda only lets me do it so far, but it’s…he’s got a lot of other great petting-spots that he does like!”

……

You’re holding something back.

Sans can see it all over your face, plain as day: that reaction meant something and you don’t want him to know what it is.

He didn’t get saddled with Judgeship ‘cause he was in the habit of letting people pull the wool over his eye-sockets. He’s paying extra attention to you now, every inflection and micro-expression you give him.

You take a knee beside Oreo—making the two of you the same size—and start to scratch at the scruff of his shoulders.

“This is his favorite spot for scratching,” you say, quickly like you’re trying to get control of the conversation.

Your petting fluffs Oreo’s fur all up and gets his tail wagging again. He’s a cute dog but he looks even cuter when he’s smiling, with his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a dumb, happy pup.

Totally harmless.

“Now, we’re not totally sure what breed he is, but we think he has some hound-blood in there somewhere because he’s big on sniffing—but I don’t have to tell you that, obviously!”

You laugh a little, lightly, and Sans knows a fake when he hears one.

You keep talking, enumerating Oreo’s apparently many merits—smart, a fast learner, great at fetch, et cetera, et cetera—and it’s all just as suspicious as everything else, but what finally makes it click in Sans’ skull isn’t your words at all.

It’s the way you’re holding the dog.

You’re angling yourself ever so slightly away from Sans, gesturing with one hand like you’re trying to draw his attention to it while the other is tucked firmly out of sight.

You probably don’t even realize you’re doing it; pure guilty instinct giving you away.

Unfortunately for you, Sans still remembers the mark he saw on your hand before—the very recent scar.

And Sans knows what you’re trying to hide.

“…and as far as noise goes, he’s usually pretty quiet, I guess he’s just not much of a barker—”

“i’m guessin’ his bite might be a little worse…right?”

You freeze.

“I…how did…?”

You seem to give up on the question at the same time as you give up on your lie.

You crumple guiltily, pulling your hand in to your chest and stroking at the raw-looking mark.

“You’re…you’re right,” you admit reluctantly, “there was…an incident…but! It was just the one! Oreo’s a good boy, it wasn’t his fault! He was…” You look visibly distressed as you try to explain, “He was in really bad shape when we got him in, he couldn’t even see, it’s not like it was…on purpose… He’s not bad, he’s just…just…”

Sans raises his browbones as you cut yourself off, your jaw shutting with a nearly-audible click. Your cheeks are coloring and your eyes are abruptly glued to the floor as you take a deep breath and let it out through your nose.

You think you’ve said too much.

“I’m sorry,” you say after that pause, “you’re completely right. That’s a definite drawback for a pet. You have every right to know the behavioral history of an animal that you’d be bringing into your home. I should’ve led with that.”

…oh.

Sans… doesn’t think he likes this new tone in your voice?

Suddenly, he feels like he’s A Client Being Pacified, like you’ve physically stepped away from him in an attempt to be professional.

That stiff set of your shoulders is back, too, and your smile is gone—the work of his jokes already undone in just a few short words.

He really doesn’t think he likes that.

But you’re already looping Oreo’s lead around your hand, coaxing the dog up and around to leave with you.

“If you’ll wait here a little longer,” you say, “I can bring out a more…suitable candidate.”

It’s pure impulse.

Sans can’t explain it any other way except that watching you turn and walk away from him, looking like the epitome of defeat, makes him feel like…

Like he has to do something.

Sans Checks you.

With a flare of his magic, his vision sharpens, extends beyond the moment and into a theoretical Encounter.

Across your back, he sees your name, your total lack of LV and EXP, and…

The brightest, most beautiful Justice soul he’s ever seen.

It’s glowing, shining, blazing like a miniature sun and Sans is stunned for a moment by how utterly gorgeous he finds it.

It’s only when he tears his eye-lights away from it, though, that he sees the words below your stats—the truth of your very soul in this one moment.

* Just wants everything to turn out okay.

………

aw jeez… don’t we all…?

“hey,” Sans calls, stopping you in your tracks, “wait a minute.”

You turn, confused, with Oreo paused at your heels.

“i, uh…i never said this lil creaminal was a ‘no.’ bring ‘im back over here a sec, i didn’t even get a chance to meet the guy.”

His joke was lackluster at best. Terrible delivery, the kind of thing Papyrus would groan at him over and not even smile for.

…But you look happy, and Sans is… pretty sure it had nothing to do with the pun.

He’s not used to making people happy when it’s not ‘cause of a joke. It’s nice.

Sans decides not to examine that thought and when Oreo bounces back over with you, he gets down onto the floor to meet him, eye-to-eye-socket.

Oreo’s whirlwind wagging tail is his only warning before he’s nearly knocked off balance by the sudden excited animal in his personal space.

Sans can’t help but laugh as a wet nose and tickly whiskers are rubbed all over his skull, sniffing him within an inch of his life. He tries to gently shove the beast back a step and only gets a face-lick or two for his trouble.

Oh yeah…this guy was a lover, not a fighter.

Sans snickers when Oreo finally loses interest in his skull and starts nibbling the sleeve of his hoodie.

“hey, cujo,” he chides, “you’re all mixed up. s’the bones you’re supposed to chew on, not the sleeve.” He turns to you, expectantly. “thought you said this guy was smart?”

“He’s…he’s doing his best,” you say.

You’re laughing again, looking even happier than you were before. It’s a good look on you.

…and it’s contagious.

Of all the real, genuine emotions Sans expected to feel anytime soon, happiness was the last on his list.

“alright, how much?” he finds himself blurting out.

You look startled, so he continues.

“might as well take this guy off your hands for ya’,” he says, as casually as he can fake. “he seems like a decent enough pooch and, uh…i reallydon’t wanna shop around. lotta work, y’know?”

“R…right! I hear you, it’s a total pain in the ass.” Your smile takes a turn for the tentative as you pose, “Or, I guess…a pain in the coccyx for you…right?”

…oh my god.

“snrk…that’d be a fair assumption,” he assures you and watches as you giggle almost helplessly in response.

You’re adorable. You’re hilariously adorable and Sans feels like a king for being the one to get you to tell such a dumb skeleton joke.

If the frazzled look of you when he first walked in was any indication, you’re somebody who could really use some more joking in their life.

Either way, Sans lets you hand him Oreo’s leash and follows you as you practically skip back up to the lobby with him to get the paperwork.

It’s still just the two of you there and as you start rummaging around at the front desk, Sans looks down into Oreo’s pale blue eyes.

He doesn’t know what the hell’s come over him.

He’s never been this impulsive, this reckless, not in his whole life: he’s adopting this…random dog and it’s probably fifty percent convenience, but the other fifty is because he knows it’ll make you happy.

You, some tired, stressed out human he just met.

Sans tries to ask himself why he’s doing this, but the only thing even close to an answer that he comes up with is…

The way your soul gleamed when he Checked you.

Before yours, the only human soul he’d ever bothered to Check was Frisk’s, a bold and blaring red—Determined—that spoke of strength and raw power, the equivalent of the entirety of monsterkind.

Sans thinks he never realized how much seeing it—a child with a soul a million times more motivated and dedicated than he could ever be—may have disheartened him.

What could he ever do against a soul that strong? How was he supposed to just…live…in a world full of souls that strong? Capable of who knows what?

He never conclusively figured out the cause of the time anomalies. It could be anyone, anything; monsters could still end up back Underground at any time, no matter how many years they’d been up here, and if the thing that did it turned out to be as strong as Frisk…

why even bother?

But…you.

You and your soul…

You’re not Determined. You’re not oozing raw power, trying to be a hero and save the world.

You’re somebody who’s just…doing their best, trying to get by, wanting things to turn out okay.

what a fuckin’ mood.

Sans gets that. He feels like he’d probably get you, if the two of you ever had a real conversation, and it’s not like that’d make him feel better about Temporal Shenanigans, but…

He wants to.

He actually kinda wants to talk to you and get to know you—to figure out who you are beyond what he just Saw— and that’s an urge he hasn’t felt for years.

That’s probably why, as he’s scrawling his name and number on the form you handed him, he looks up and asks you, “so where’s the section where you write your number?”

You look at him with wide eyes. “My n……what, like…as a……as a dating thing, or…?”

As cute funny as your bashful expression is, that’s way too fast, even for Weird Impulsive Sans.

“nah,” he chuckles gently, “i just figured you might wanna keep in touch. y’know, get updates on your son an’ stuff.”

That surprises a smile out of you. “Pfft, ‘my son’?” you echo. “Since when is Oreo my son?”

“uhh, since always?” Sans says, as if you’re the weirdo. “ya’ don’t get to pick your family.”

You stare at him blankly. “You…literally just picked him? To be your family?”

Sans just waves you off. “hey, hey, hey now, let’s not bring logic into this.”

You laugh—that delightful sound that Sans has probably spent half his life chasing—and he must’ve really caught you off-guard with that one because somewhere in your laughter, you snort.

It’s an ugly sound and you look a little embarrassed to have made it, but Sans’ eye-lights contract, his soul thrumming with a new sort of energy.

oh, hot damn.

“okay, uh…for the record, a date might not be…totally out of the question.” Sans feels his magic flushing across his cheekbones and clears the throat he doesn’t have. “later. obviously. if, uh. if it works out that way. eheheheh, no…no need to rush stuff…right?”

He’s relieved when you smile, like you like the idea of that as much as he does.

“Right! Yeah, definitely!”

You spare a second to rustle around looking for some spare paper—Sans assumes to write your number on—but before you can find anything, the front door opens behind him with a little jingle.

Ah, well, you’re gonna need to pay attention to the new guy coming in. You’re still on the clock, after all, and Sans would hate to hold up somebody who was actually trying to get some work done.

“don’t worry about it,” he tells you, taking a step back. “ya’ got my number already: you text me if ya’ wanna.”

It takes you a second to process what he said, but then you’re agreeing, “Oh, right, yeah, if…if you’re sure!”

“pawsitive,” he winks. “i’m sure you wanted to hear more of my hilarious jokes, but don’t terrierself up about it. m’feelin’ a lot of petential here. text me whenever.”

And on the heels of your snickering, with naught but a pair of playful finger-guns, Sans leaves the shelter with his brand new dog.

He ends up taking the long way home.

It’s more walking, but Oreo gets the chance to soak up some sun and sniff some stuff, and nobody ever said he had to walk fast.

The fluffy goofball has his nose crammed into a bush by the time Sans very flatly tells him, “ya’ don’t look like an ‘oreo,’ buddy.”

The dog does not seem to care about his judgment in the slightest.

But…he is Sans’ dog, now.

He doesn’t have to be ‘Oreo.’

He’s not stuck at the shelter, he can……he can be anything. He can do anything. The possibilities are actually…kinda endless.

Sans isn’t entirely sure he’s still thinking about the dog.

But when his phone buzzes just an hour or two later, with a message from a mystery number and your name in the text, he finds himself smiling at it.

me, from the shelter: Hey, it’s me, from the shelter! How’s Oreo settling in?

sans: [IMG-1]

sans: he’s great, but i went ahead and renamed your son for ya, he doesn’t answer to oreo anymore. sorry, that’s just the way the cookie crumbles.

me, from the shelter: Haha okay, so who is he now, then?

sans: same thing you are—my new Buddy. ;)

me, from the shelter: LOL, it suits him, nice choice! :D

Looking at your little smiley face on his phone, Sans thinks that he actually feels…hopeful, somehow.

‘ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE,’ Pap had said and…maybe he wasn’t wrong?

It definitely feels true about you.

Maybe you will end up just being Sans’ buddy, or maybe you’ll be something more. He certainly has no way of knowing and suddenly, that seems exciting instead of demotivational.

Either way…

He can’t wait to drag you by Grillby’s sometime for a lunch break. If anybody could use some good food and bad laughs, it seems like it’d probably be you.

Sans wonders what your opinion is on grease…?

Canon AU, post-pacifist ending of Fur a Good Time, Call…

You work at an animal shelter. You love all your fuzzy buddies but the work is hard and often gross, and you've been at it for years without much help from your coworkers. You've got a lot of love to give, but you're headed for a burnout and fast!

But maybe the weird, funny monster who just adopted your favorite dog can help you remember how to relax...or at least how to laugh again!

A/N: This is a purely hypothetical scenario--I don't consider it canon to FGTC-- but if you'd like to know your options for how to place this chapter:

Option 1: This is a What-If that never came to be.

Option 2: Frisk figured out how to RESET again and redid the pacifist route.

Option 3: This is what happened on their first pacifist route and when they RESET to experiment with other endings, FGTC happened and they got stuck-- per Chapter 3 of this.

Option 4: This is a completely separate multiverse, happening concurrently with FGTC, and they both exist!

Up to you to choose your favorite! :3

Prev Chapter

#snipsnsnails #undertale #fanfiction #sans #papyrus #sans/reader #myfic

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thedappleddragon · 3 years

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how's about 4 days worth of logs because I kept getting too sleepy ok go

Today I fucked around made a lot of pasta spent too much time outside with my cat cut some more paw pattern pieces hand sewed the fingers as much as I could started makin the lining but gave up took a shower and did some much needed moisturizing did dishes ate candy and drew caras oc and started Anna’s final render but I need to do some cleanups

I woke up from a dream that my mom got the dog she signed up for but it was like a golden retriever that actually turn into a fat copy of my cat with bad eyes. Had a bagel for breakfast and saw my dad got chive and onion cream cheese :) Igot ready for the dmv and realized I should probably do laundry soon and put away clothes I’ve let pile up. Left for dmv after a while, went around the area a little bit, it started raining, waited inside dmv, a little nervous but not much, talked to same lady as last time (she was very nice and funny :) ) we had to sprint outside to the car because it was POURING OUTSIDE during the first half of the test and suddenly cleared up the second half. Ran over a big puddle. HOORAY I PASSED! Picked up subway, at half at home, went to grandparents house to look at old photos and read my moms old diary from her last family vacation before marrying my dad, stayed for entirely too long, came home, finished subway, laid down, drew and finished the princess lineup, now it’s only 1 am butn sleepy good night. Perhaps I will remember to post the past 2 days in the morning. Yesterday made 2 pastas and resin-Ed old new leaf charm

Writing the days summary through text for the 3rd day in a row because I am sleepy

I woke up pretty damn early, before 9am. Went outside with my cat, played webkinz, snacked. Then mom asked me to pick up her city barbecue which was my first time driving truly all by myself. I trusted myself to know how to get there but I was one street over and then going from the wrong direction and had to turn around, it was a mess. But I got the food just fine and got home safely and without problem. I wanted to drive a little more, so I went to the park, walked a lap around the perimeter, and came back home, sitting in the driveway for a little bit. I hung out for a bit, played stardew valley, quit because I accidentally died in the volcano, fucked around, idk. My friends ex tried snapping me but I didn’t answer and instead texted shit about him with the groupchat. Then we started talking about lgbt labels which tbh made me a little mad and overwhelmed and frustrated, and people were talking faster than I could type, and we talked about asexuality and lack thereof and everyone got uncomfy and fuckin. AAAAAAAH. I got mad and got a headache from hitting myself stimming and decided to try calming down by washing my hair in the dark. I like showing in total darkness occasionally. There’s nothing I need to see anyway lmao. I found myself not even noticing it was dark if that makes sense. Then my dad scared me by opening the door which I didn’t realize I hadn’t locked and telling me dinner was ready. I ate and we talked a little bit about job applications until I went back to bed and got in a weird board mood, and a mint chocolate chip Klondike bar, and now I’m going to sleep I guess. Lily is better at eating and existing on the floor like an animal after I put her food on the floor

today was very rainy and nice. I went with my sister to drive around and pick up food for mom. we dropped it off at home and went to go get our own food. Emily got a gyro and I got 5 guys. the gyro place had a little store attached off to the side with very cramped isles and kinder eggs, which was interesting because I thought they were still banned in America. 5 guys was very overwhelming because of how busy it was. after getting our food we drove to the top of the parking garage and ate there, looking over the main roads and stores and everything, watching the rain. we ate and watched tiktoks and hung out until we decided to go to mcdonlds for water. 2 large waters was only 54 cents so I paid in coins lmao. we sat in the target parking lot for a moment before shopping around. Emily got some shorts and a face wash, and I got a succulent in a bunny shaped pot. I'm 80% sure there's not any dirt in there, and the succulent is glued in, so I got it mostly for the pot. it looks like the bunny is holding the plant, so I think I'll use it for holding pens when the plant dies. right now it’s sitting on my window, looking very cute. after driving home I sat in the car for a bit watching tiktoks until my sister called me and my phone died. apparently my cat was looking for me and even jumped up onto my sister’s bed. so I spent some time in bed just hanging out with her, playing Webkinz and hopping onto animal jam for th first time in months. theyve added some stuff which is cool I guess. I'm not gonna try to log in every day like I did when I was hyper fixated on animal jam, feral, waking, and Webkinz Next all at the same time. that was A Time. maybe I'll jump onto feral tomorrow to see what’s up there. it’s a very pretty game, and the few mini games they have are fun. I just wish there were easier ways to get new avatars, or at least have more than one design for one species. bleh. anyways my friend sent a tiktok she made about our friend group so I spent the next several hours drawing it but as our royal bloodshed au sonas. saving all the frames to my camera roll filled up my phone and I had to delete Tumblr. its fine because I haven been able to use it on mobile for over a year now I think. my phone is so stupidly fulll because I don't delete messages or pictures x-x I just need to upload them all to a drive and delete them all or something. im proud of the animatic but I've only gotten one response in the grouch so far, probably because everyone’s asleep lmao. now it’s midnight and I'm just gonna take a Tylenol and hang out until I fall asleep.

#thanks for coming to my ted talk #long post #April 2021 daily #2021 daily

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conniecogeie · 7 years

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5 Steps to a Super-Focused, Super-Successful Content Experience

Few marketers would admit to valuing quantity over quality—or volume over effectiveness—when it comes to content. And yet for many, their actual output tells a different story.

When I interviewed content marketing aficionado Robert Rose last year, he observed how marketers in general have “become so focused on becoming an on-demand vending machine of content for sales enablement, for filling social channels, email newsletters, and blogs—all those things that have grown up organically over the last seven years—that we’ve forgotten how to create high-impact content.”

That constant drive to expand content, to saturate the market, to produce more, more, more, it’s like marketing’s version of gravity—a constant but unseen force that we never consciously notice.

Unless we’re mindful about process, strategy, and results, our content volume will continue to grow. And what’s so bad about that? According to Shelly Lucas, an Austin-based B2B content marketing consultant, when you create too much content, “it doesn’t get used, the quality is lower, and optimization falls by the wayside.” And it becomes less focused, targeted, and effective as a result.

Lucas points out several factors that contribute to marketers’ tendency to produce too much content:

They don’t have a content strategy (or they don’t stick to it).

What they produce isn’t getting the results they want or expect, so instead of testing and optimizing, they create something different.

What they create is working, and everyone wants a part of it.

A certain critical mass of content is needed to feed digital campaigns.

These are all compelling forces to reckon with, but they can be overcome with five simple practices and changes in perspective.

We've forgotten how to create high-impact content. – Robert Rose Click To Tweet 1. Tear Down the Silos

Siloes are problematic when they stand between:

The marketing department and other departments, especially sales

Individual teams within the marketing department

Different software tools that don’t play well with each other

In all three cases, these barriers make it difficult to get the right information into the hands of the right people at the right time. Content teams are usually too overloaded to deal with a laborious process for tracking down the performance results of their most recent releases. With a dozen deadlines always looming, they have no choice but to move on to the next piece, more or less blindly.

But what if all teams with a content-related role shared the same work management and reporting tool, with all relevant information gathered into a single source of truth? When this is the case, content marketers always have the latest analytics at their fingertips before they start a new campaign, ebook, or video. They have the intelligence they need to pivot and react in real time, effectively building upon past successes and avoiding recent failures.

This, of course, requires the CMO or another department leader to recognize the benefits of unifying all teams into one solution and appoint someone to start the discovery process of finding the right tool. It will take some up-front effort, but it’s worth it in the end.

2. Start and End with the Customer

“We’ll never be perfect at every step of the customer’s journey,” Rose says, “but how do we become remarkable at a few strategic steps, so that the thing the consumer wants is to have another experience with us?”

We can start by shifting our mindsets to be more customer-focused, rather than relying too heavily on internal talking points. This can be done by following our personas on social media, hanging out where customers congregate online (whether that’s LinkedIn, Instagram, Twitter, etc.), interviewing actual customers, and other similar practices.

We can then use these discovery experiences to compile a list of questions that real customers and prospects need answers to—and design a content experience that satisfactorily answers those questions in the right order and the proper place in the funnel.

“I recommend that producers shift from trying to catch every keyword to trying to answer a single question,” says Tonya Parker, Content Producer and Manager at Parker Content. “Each piece should provide a solution to a known consumer need.”

Sometimes we think we know our customers’ most pressing questions and needs, and it’s easy to let our perspectives be colored by existing company assets and internal assumptions. But time spent in the field listening to actual customers has a way of bringing us back to reality.

3. Audit and Map Out All Content

It’s not good enough to simply consult that list of customer questions on a semi-regular basis, as we churn out an ever-expanding library of assets. Instead, we should use the questions to build a strategic content map that’s clearly documented and easily shareable with all who have a hand in content creation.

As you engage in this process, you’ll quickly identify those old assets that have no place in your new plan—making it glaringly clear how much dead weight you’ve been creating and carrying around.

“To make content development leaner, define a strategy and stick to it,” says Lucas. “I’ve used quarterly content pillars, with each defined by a persona a specific use case, to help identify priorities.”

That’s one way to do it. Here’s another.

Bob Warfield, CEO and President at software provider CNCCookbook, has grown a large business (4.5 million visitors a year) almost exclusively through content marketing. He produces content for only two reasons:

To maintain engagement with his current readers and audience.

To bring in new readers via the usual SEO-originated traffic.

“These two needs require different content,” Warfield says. “In many cases, #1 is achievable with short articles that are fun and interesting with my audience. That’s not to say they don’t like skyscraper content too, but I cater to about five personas, and it’s better to give at least a couple of them something new every week when I can’t afford to produce a new skyscraper every week for every persona.”

Lucas and Warfield have differing approaches to strategy, as they should, given that they serve different consumers in different markets. The point is that they both have a strategy that informs a documented content map, and they stick to the strategy.

4. Murder Your Darlings

You may or may not be surprised that this tip was inspired by a quote from horror author Stephen King: “Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings.”

He’s not talking about characters here—heaven knows there’s lots of bloodshed in the typical King novel. Rather, he’s referring to the importance of brutally editing your own work. Just because you adore a particular sentence or turn of phrase that you’ve crafted doesn’t mean it serves an effective purpose. When it doesn’t advance the plot or reveal character, you have to kill it, no matter how brilliantly worded it is. And the truth is, it hurts much less if you eliminate the sentence yourself rather than having someone else swoop in and excise it.

The same principle applies to your content experience as a whole. Every team that produces or owns content is going to have their favorites—pieces that they spent a lot of time on, that they’re particularly proud of, or that they’ve otherwise invested attention and affection in. Even if the piece is a dud in terms of performance or it doesn’t fit customer needs, some of us still cling unreasonably to pet content pieces.

You can’t create a stellar content experience without weeding out the bad stuff or the stuff that no longer fits. Someone is going to have to make those tough calls. If you can’t handle it at the team level without starting a civil war, turn to the overall content strategy as defined by management. Whether it’s a director of marketing, a marketing VP, or a CMO, the person driving the ship has to be the one to lay down and enforce the rules regarding which darlings will be sacrificed to create a better content experience.

5. Fine Tune with Measurement

“88 percent of the top performers measure content marketing ROI, compared to 72 percent of the overall sample and 56 percent of the bottom performers,” according to the B2B Content Marketing report, which highlights benchmarks, budgets, and trends in North America in 2017.

Indeed, without regularly looking at the ROI of your content efforts, there’s no objective way to know which darlings to kill (who wants innocent casualties on their conscience?), you can’t effectively refine your strategy and content map, and it gets ever harder to break away from the company talking points and look at your work from the customer’s viewpoint.

No content experience is going to be flawless out of the gate, no matter how many brainstorms or rounds of review you go through. Only a strong routine of gathering and discussing performance data for each link in the content experience will allow you to locate and strengthen—or eliminate—the weak links.

And no, you don’t have to squeeze in extra meetings in order to share performance data, which will only be forgotten or lost soon after the meeting. A silo-smashing work-management solution, as mentioned in tip one, gives you an easy way to disseminate analytics to all stakeholders and participants. Plus, your ROI data will be permanently archived alongside all other relevant project information for easy retrieval later.

Less Is More

Are you comfortable following the path of least resistance, which usually results in sprawling, unfocused, ever-proliferating content—the “more is more” approach? Or would you rather adopt a “less is more” mindset, devoting your energy to creating lean, mean, unforgettable assets—and fewer of them? Unlike so many other aspects of content marketing, there’s just one right answer here, and you’re only five steps away from making the right choice for both your customers and your team.

Get a weekly dose of the trends and insights you need to keep you ON top, from the strategy team at Convince & Convert. Sign up for the Convince & Convert ON email newsletter.

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#5 Steps to a Super-Focused #Super-Successful Content Experience

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kraussoutene · 7 years