#but they're ALSO all about. luck. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Forty percent of Tumblr users are between the ages of 18 to 25.

#but they're ALSO all about. luck.

theminecraftbee · 7 months

Note

i ABSOLUTELY want to see the behind the scenes/extra symbolism discussion of the blackjack fic!!!!!

YEAH OKAY TIME TO RAMBLE ABOUT CHOICES THERE, i'll stick it under a cut for people who want to read this ficlet without me explaining a lot of the choices. also because it's LONG.

so let's start with: blackjack as the game is a deliberate choice. like, i considered poker, and then realized i like blackjack more. to explain in full i've gotta go into a little detail about the setup.

this is because the setup here is that the watchers, the listeners, grian, and martyn are all "writing the narrative", effectively. they are putting their own wants and desires for what the next life series will be on the table and betting for it. abstractly, grian cares about the gamified life series (the specific rules), the watchers care about the character interactions and the drama of it all, the listeners want it to be meaningful to them and to feel like it has a point, and martyn, though he doesn't really realize this, is here because he is the one who keeps MAKING half the life series narrative, and the one who plays into it the most. they also represent grian as the guy who makes the rules, the watchers and listeners as the audience and the way it sometimes wants the same things and sometimes is opposed to each other in what they want, and martyn as the guy who plays directly into the story.

in blackjack, these people aren't playing against each other. like, okay. blackjack as you play it "properly" can have many people at a table, but you'll notice that if you try to use an odds calculator online, there's no way to calculate odds based on what any hands but yours and the dealer's are. that's because blackjack decks in casinos are normally like, at LEAST four decks shuffled together, to make counting cards harder. besides, the people at the table with you aren't your opponents anyway! everyone at the table can beat the dealer and get double their bet back. or, in this story, everyone at the table can beat the dealer and get their part of the story guaranteed to be in the next game. they aren't COLLABORATIVE--there's no way to help the other people at the table either! but they aren't ADVERSARIAL. they are not, inherently, working against each other. they just happen to be all playing against the same dealer.

so anyway, the dealer here is death, because one, as death points out in the ficlet, literally the only inevitable constant in the life series is death. the story will INEVITABLY end with everyone dead. everyone is playing against death to get the kind of story they want, because ultimately, what will REALLY shape the story is those deaths. in the life series, death ultimately decides how the story goes, and you're betting against it to tell the specific story you want.

that's also why death wins the tie. its my understanding that a tie in many casinos actually just means you get your bet back; you lose nothing, but you gain nothing also. however, this game is rigged. you can't 'tie' death; it's death. if you die, it's game over, after all.

death is also the dealer, however, because it is PREDICTABLE. one strange quality of blackjack is that the dealer's moves are entirely deterministic. sure, you don't know what the dealer's actual hand is, since they keep a card hidden--that's why it's gambling--but a dealer in blackjack, by rule, must ALWAYS take a hit if their hand is 16 or lower, and must ALWAYS stay if their hand is 17 or higher. no exceptions. as such, you can guarantee the dealer will always have at least a 17 at the end of a round, or they will bust. death in the life series follows rules. you know when it's coming. it's more a matter of whether you can stop it.

that make sense as a metaphor? okay cool.

anyway, more details! so the specific cards dealt here don't matter so much as the hands; i don't know cartomancy someone else will have to tell you about the symbolic meanings of a standard deck of cards. what i CAN tell you is that the hands everyone got and how they played them was deliberate.

so, first: basically everyone made what is arguably the "correct" play. yes even martyn. we'll get to that. however, what happened with each of them represents their personality.

grian doubles down. it's grian, of course he does! for those of you who don't know how doubling down works: when you have a hand of 9, 10, or 11, it is reasonable to double down. the dealer deals you exactly one face-down card that you don't reveal until the dealer reveals their hand, and you double your bet. the reason these specific numbers are the ones you double down on is because, mathematically, you can't bust on these in one card, and you're somewhat more likely to get a winning hand with them than not. however, doubling down means you can't take another hit! you have no way to know if you'll beat the dealer or not after you do so! after all, if you, say, are like, grian, you'll most likely need at least a 7 to beat the dealer if you double down with a 10. you're guaranteed not to bust, sure, but you've doubled your risk anyway.

of course, grian is exactly the kind of guy to double his risk in a situation where he has nothing to lose. of COURSE he doubles down. and of course he loses; he doesn't bust, sure, but that face-down card isn't nearly high enough to win.

(grian also had to lose so i wasn't directly making a rules prediction, lol. him losing leaves it somewhat more ambiguous whether his rules requests of 'enforced red name bloodlust' and 'no life trading' will be true or not.)

the watcher wins the hand outright, standing immediately. a 19 is a pretty good hand, and drawing a 19 outright is ABSOLUTELY a situation where you never take a hit. the watcher also wins outright because "bonds that are seemingly unbreakable" is, in fact, a life series standard. the interpersonal relationships are like, the whole story. of course that gets to beat death and make it in! however, it's not like the watcher gets a blackjack; it's no SO guaranteed that it gets a 21. there's always a chance of going wrong.

the listener busts outright. there is no guarantee of your death being meaningful. sometimes, you just get unlucky in the hand you draw.

then, there's martyn, who has a 16. when the dealer has a 7, the dealer is MOST LIKELY to have a hand that will beat a 16. that's a strong card for the dealer to have! however, 16 is a hand you are statistically most likely to lose with in that scenario. the odds are already stacked against martyn; if he doesn't hit, the dealer will almost be guaranteed to win, but if he DOES hit, he's far more likely to bust than he is to win. so, what do you do? most odds calculators tell you to take the hit, because it gives you slightly better odds of winning, but there are ALSO multiple people who will tell you NOT to take the hit, because "not busting" can sometimes be all you need in order to win. you CAN'T win if you bust, after all, and in blackjack, if you bust, you hand over your bet before you even determine if the dealer busts.

(i've seen some people say you should just surrender outright if you have a 16 and the dealer is showing 7 or more; that's the kind of situation that is.)

martyn, of course, takes the hit, because martyn's the kind of guy to risk the statistical odds he loses then and there. he's rewarded for it, sort of! he gets an 18, which is a decent hand! he then holds, because you have to be actively stupid to take a hit on an 18.

unfortunately for martyn, he doesn't actually escape the odds entirely. he tells a good story by taking that risk, sure, but death comes for us all in the end. also, martyn had like a 75% chance to lose anyway--like i said, 16 when the dealer is showing 7 or higher is just about the worst possible situation to be in while playing blackjack. i went ahead and gave death a 3 there too, because sometimes the world is unfair. sometimes if you take the risk that would make you seem actively stupid, that risk would have paid off. sure, 90% of the time it wouldn't, but one out of a hundred, maybe, if you had taken the hit--

anyway. i could probably say more but this is already long enough. gestures. CARD GAMES WITH STAKES AND MEANING OUTSIDE OF THE GAME ITSELF MY BELOVED.

#answered #anachronistic-cat #anyway i love card games as a metaphor for an exchange of power because they're all about how much risk you're willing to take #but they're ALSO all about. luck.#no party playing a card game has complete control over the game.#so they're GREAT #also i played so many card games with my family we were a card game family you know

100 notes · View notes

dirtytransmasc · 4 months

Text

I need more selkie theon (and asha. I just think that would be a vibe. fuck the greyjoy sigil being a kraken for a moment and let them be seals) content.

like the opportunity to have theon's coat taken by ned when he's made his ward is right there and it is perfect and beautiful and tragic.

and you could build on that depending on the version of the selkie myth/story you're going off of (I personally love the song of the sea version of selkies for story writing). maybe he can't talk without it, maybe he gets sick, maybe his voice has magical properties of sorts.

I have this one concept in my head that I don't have the time to write, but it goes something along the lines of theon getting sick after years away from his coat and the stark kids have to find his coat and drag his slowly dying ass to the bay of seals (cause y'know bay of seals and theon's a selkie so he'll turn into a seal... I thought it was creative).

also, in a lot of versions of selkies, when they get sick, their hair turns white, which is on brand for theon. they're also pretty, their stories are typically soaked to the bone in tragedy, they're normally held captive/tortured, amongst other things, which are also very on brand for theon.

and maybe you get some selkie to selkie telepathy of sorts, so when theon finally enter the water a seal again, asha books it to come find him, cause its been years since she's been able to feel him (I'm soft for them, I will create the most improbable and ridiculous scenario's to bring them together and for them to have soft sibling moments).

all and all, theon being a selkie is something I need more content of, please and thank you.

#theon would be a harbor seal and asha would be a leopard seal. I don't make the rules.#I think theon being a selkie would just be cool #like. it would make him being a ward all the more interesting. there's the potential for him to be stripped of his *skin* and his *voice*#and to keep him from the sea would be even more cruel #then there's the different ways you could give him magical properties. he could be enchantingly beautiful. his voice could be magical. he-#could bring good luck to ships. he could have a song that held a specific power of sorts.#there's just so many possibilities and I have many thoughts #also just imagine the starklings. at the very least robb and jon (who barely wants to be there but went for moral support) stealing theon-#and going on a 'roadtrip' to the bay of seals. theon's looks about ready to keel over. robb's panicking. jon's sulking.#the whole of the north is currently hunting them down. cause y'know. the heir to winterfell suddenly dissapeared into the night with the-#ward and the bastard. it would be chaos.#and asha reuniting with her brother in their seal forms. it'd be cute. cause they're chubby little blops and they'd boop each other.#and theon having to decide if he wants to stay with his found family or escaping back to pyke with his sister now that he has the chance.#someone write this. take the idea. just tag me so I can read it #theon greyjoy #asha greyjoy #yara greyjoy #house greyjoy #throbb #vaguely. the potential is right there #got #game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #selkies

73 notes · View notes

tswwwit · 1 year

Note

Could we get a taste of that new work you started…👀

Heck, have the whole thing! This is for that AU of an AU where Ford captured Bill/Bill was his familiar, and Dipper freed him, like an idiot. Here's the first fic and here's some needed backstory.

---------------------------------------

Dipper leans over to let his fingers trail through the water. It’s oddly warm to the touch. Bill’s voice carries, weird and echoing, over the river and through the empty city.

Which Dipper’s ignoring, for the moment.

Not like he’s missing much; he can't understand the lyrics anyway. Bill’s demonic singing continues over his inattention.

This dream is distinctly… not a good one. On the surface, at least; Dipper’s not terrified, but only because of his company.

He also might be a little jaded at this point.

Truth be told, he’s visited a lot of dreams at this point. They’re Bill’s go-to meetup spots. Though Dipper hasn’t really been the biggest fan, so far, he’s never been in any danger. That he knows of. Bill’s made sure of that.

Bringing Dipper to a dream that lacks his idea of 'pizazz', or gore, or immediately evident monsters is a new tactic - but at least it’s not a bad one.

It’s eerie, for sure. The silence beyond Bill’s yodeling adds an extra layer of ‘creepy’ - but the boat is nice, the company’s familiar. Even the water’s warm against the tips of his fingers, leaving clean, bright lines in the river -

Dipper yanks his arm back with a start, and he shakes the water off rapidly. Some of the red drops leave spots on his shirt and pants..

The broken surface of the water bleeds bright red. Like wounded flesh.

Dipper grimaces. He’d back up, but there’s no space in the gondola.

And - as a bonus - it looks like it’s attracting more glimpses of half-formed shadows. Of course. Dipper can only catch them out of the corners of his eye - dim, too-lanky shapes he never fully sees through the fog in the alleyways - but maybe it’s best to ignore those, too.

Still not a bad dream, necessarily. Things could be way worse.

But like everything to do with Bill, it’s unnerving. With a side of ‘constantly feeling you're being watched’.

“Ahem,” Said triangle clears a nonexistent throat. Bill thumps the stick on the bottom of the river, the one he’s been using to guide them along the city canals. “Hello! Listen up, sapling, I’m serenading here.”

Dipper shuffles around until he finds a shaky seat back in the gondola. Bill doesn’t bother. He doesn’t have to worry about balance, with his floating in midair thing.

“This is… interesting.” Dipper says. Bill brightens up, lower eyelid rising. So that’s a start - but he’s not sure how to follow it. He tucks his arms around his legs instead. “Why are we-”

“Vide stellas quae tremunt!” Bill continues his song without any notice of the question. Dipper tries waving at him, but he’s already closed his eye.. “Amoris et spei!”

No explanation, then. Dipper rolls his eyes.

God forbid Bill not have attention on him for ten seconds.

“I sense,” Bill says, tapping under his eye thoughtfully. “That you might not be appreciating this, kid.” Said eye rolls in its golden socket. “Why am I not surprised!”

At Dipper’s shrug, Bill grumbles something under his breath, and pushes the gondola along. Silent, for a moment.

Dipper shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Absent the music, this place is extremely eerie. There’s a light fog on the canals, and he doesn’t dare look into the alleys.

In a way, he understands why Bill’s like this. Needing company. Demanding attention. Being demanding is part and parcel of his demonic nature, and he was also stuck in a prison for thirty freakin’ years. That alone would make someone deranged.

Bill was just insane even before that.

Thankfully, irrepressible as always, Bill starts humming some other tune. Dipper’s glad he started again; he must be in a better mood. Bill’s huge eye narrows slightly in contemplation.

Then he lets out a low, self-satisfied cackle, and rubs two hands together. A third arm keeps steering the boat.

Dipper rolls his own eyes.

Yeah, this is definitely going to pan out like Bill expects. Because everything Bill’s done has worked out great for him.

Bill said he had plans for Dipper, but he’s taking his sweet time getting to them. It barely seems like there is one, most nights.

Whatever he’s after, it might work better if he focused on his goal.

Instead, he’s making Dipper focus on him.

Every time they’ve met up - and it’s been months - Bill’s clearly making some kind of effort. He’s hinted at a deeper truth, dozens of times. He taunts, and he talks, and even teaches on a whim. His methods are obscure and bizarre, they seem out of place - but Dipper gets the sense that Bill genuinely thinks it’s important.

He must really be distracted by his ego, because so far? His ‘plan’ doesn't seem all that sinister. It’s like he’s barely started it, or it’s genuinely not-terrible - which is why Dipper willingly joins Bill in his dreams.

Okay. That, plus a certain amount of sheer, idiotic curiosity. Dipper’s not perfect.

But he knows Bill’s trying to show him something.

Maybe if Dipper got it - whatever ‘it’ is - then he’d be able to thwart the plan. But until he finally gets it, or it comes to fruition or… Until something really evil happens, he guesses, then they’re just going to keep…

Meeting up? Hanging out? Dipper’s not sure which phrase fits right.

Judging by how it’s gone so far, that ‘until’ might be a while.

So long as Bill’s just reveling in attention, though - there’s no reason to stop him screwing himself over. Freedom seems like a big deal to him, and if the last few months are any indication? He’s been enjoying it immensely.

Feeding Bill’s ego a little can’t hurt, and it’s. Not bad, really.

Dipper just. Doesn’t have a lot of people to talk with who aren’t family, and Bill’s always up for a conversation. Even if it mostly devolves into bickering about stupid things, and Bill’s awful, awful jokes - Dipper’s finding he doesn’t mind that much. Bill’s quick-witted, weirdly charming for a person who’s a shape, and his magical knowledge has a depth that’s breathtaking. Even if it comes in an annoying golden package.

Whatever works, works, though. As long as Bill’s eager to hang out, then Dipper might as well indulge him.

After all, Bill could be up to worse things than bothering Dipper. And when it comes right down to it - he’s kind of fun. In an insane, demonic way.

Dipper’s still cautious. He’d be an idiot not to be.

But so far, Bill’s keeping his word.

Come to think of it, the plan must be one of the reasons Bill’s still here, in this dream. He’s making sure this isn’t a nightmare, while he tries to convey his… something. Possibly in a manner that won’t completely chase Dipper off. But if he can figure it out, before Bill manages to be super evil -

Dipper tucks his arms around himself tighter in the chill of the fog. He shakes his head to clear it.

This is novel, and interesting -

And very, very dangerous.

He’s got to stay wary. Reminding himself that Bill is absolutely insane.

“What, you chilly or something?” Bill sets fists on his angles. He was humming for a while, but now he looks curious. He even floats in a bit, while the stick keeps steering the gondola without a pilot. “This is what you get for having a crappy endothermic system.”

“Shut up.” Dipper tucks his legs together too. The temperature, if anything, seems to have dropped by a few more degrees. “Didn’t you make this dream? Can’t you control the-”

“Ahem. Unlike some amateurs, I know how to set the atmosphere.” Bill shuts his eye, somehow managing to look self-assured without a face. He wags a chiding finger at Dipper, floating close enough to flick his nose. “You wanna keep your empty nightmares on refrigerator settings. Fits the whole ‘eternally preserved’ theme.”

“And how does singing bad opera fit the ‘theme’?“ Dipper smacks Bill on the side. Dumb move, it only hurts his fingers - though Bill's not cold, like the air. It makes him pause. “...Hey. That wasn’t in Italian.”

“When in Rome, speak as the Romans do! And they were chatting in Latin before your forebears had forebears.” Bill shrugs, nonchalant. “It's the source of Romance languages!”

A minor detail. One Bill’s using to avoid the question - and he only resorts to being a pedant when he’s caught.

Dipper narrows his eyes -

Then seizes the opportunity.

And the triangle.

As Bill thuds against Dipper's chest, he wraps his arms around him tight. Bill flails a bit, muttering something impossibly muffled against Dipper's chest. How does that happen, he doesn't even have a mouth. Dipper decides to ignore the impossible, yet again. Squeezing Bill a little harder, like he could crumple him like tinfoil. Knowing that he won't.

Man Bill’s warm; radiating off him like a personal, annoying space heater. Dipper can already feel the sensation returning to his fingers, gripped tight on Bill's edges.

And frowns. “Wait. I thought this was supposed to be nightmare Venice, not Rome.”

“Cripes, what a pedant.” Bill groans, the hypocrite. Dipper can’t see his eye - he’s rotated it around to face forward - but he’s sure he’s rolling it as well. He floats lower in Dipper’s lap, and one raised finger jabs the soft underside of Dipper’s jaw. “I bet you’re a real hit at parties. I couldn’t take you anywhere!”

Bullshit, Bill’s arrogant enough to take anyone anywhere, and be smug about it.

And if he’s trying to pretend he’s not in a good mood, maybe he should stop glowing so bright.

Dipper squeezes him a little tighter. Bill’s been caught, he can’t escape - and while he hasn’t totally settled down, he’s letting his legs dangle over Dipper’s and only kicked him once. It was barely a tap.

“I get it. You’ve never spent much time in Italy.” And Dipper smiles. This’ll get to him. “Bill Cipher claims to be the dream demon extraordinaire - but he never managed to bother a Pope.”

The sharp, indignant noise Bill makes is so, so sweet. Dipper jostles the top hat with his cheek, just to bug him more, and listens to the ensuing weird burble with a grin.

In the end, Dipper gets a thoroughly informative rant about the intricacies of both Italy and Rome and parts of an empire that he’s pretty sure never existed. Bill’s alight with indignance - and amusement. Possibly at his own bullshit.

Dipper really, really wishes he had a notebook with him.

Talking with Bill is always fascinating, and infuriating. Half of this has to be bullshit. Some of it might be true. Dipper… should really check out more history books. Maybe then he’d have more chances to call out Bill’s bullshit, with facts. For the moment, questioning him on every aspect pokes enough holes to help sort out the fiction.

It’s an easy conversation, and a long one. Bickering with Bill takes ages, makes Dipper struggle for words, he’s usually a little annoyed - and it’s oddly pleasant. In that Dipper doesn’t have to be pleasant. Or even nice. Bill absorbs it all with infinite confidence, and shoots back with pointed ripostes.

“-And that’s why garum was crappy, and ya shouldn’t miss it.” Bill finishes. He pats Dipper’s arm twice, and, reluctantly, is released. He floats up above the gondola as it drifts, slowly towards a dock. “But I think we’re getting off topic.”

“How? We-” Always argue, Dipper was about to say. That was before he stood up; now he’s thinking better of it. “Shit.”

He tries to balance as the gondola shakes; some of the blood-water laps over the sides. Crap, arguing with Bill is one thing, but he didn’t want to literally rock the boat.

Bill floats up further, watching the sloshing - and starts laughing.

Dipper glares, but the stupid tiny canoelike thing is shaking under him, he grips the sides. Since they’re next to the dock, he smacks a palm on it. It steadies things, barely.

“Pfft, loser.” Bill’s lower eyelid is raised in amusement. He watches Dipper struggle for another moment - then laughs harder, before holding out a hand. “C’mon already!”

Dipper takes the offer, absurdly grateful. Bill’s hand is very warm, like the rest of him.The black void of the not-flesh is a strange non-texture under his palm, steadying him before he falls. Dipper fumbles for a moment before holding onto it tight. Even though the boat is about to capsize, Bill’s got him.

Bill brightens up and squeezes his hand back. Not hard, surprisingly, maybe a little teasingly, and it makes something flip around inside Dipper’s chest.

Bill hauls Dipper bodily up onto the dock, with surprising strength and a cackling laugh. Dipper feels a quick slap just above his hip as he briefly stumbles.

Crap, that was fast. He almost backpedaled into the canal again from sheer surprise - but his grip on Bill means he only lent back for a moment.

Bill, the asshole, thinks it was amazingly funny. He’s leaning forward, another sixty degree angle in the air.

Dipper flips him off, heart racing fast. He wonders how Bill managed - but, right. He’s a demon, of course. Physics don’t matter. Those weird, noodlelike arms defy them on the daily.

One of said arms prods Dipper in the stomach. “Man, kid, talk about clumsy!” Bill’s still chuckling. His surface flickers with amusement, eyelid raised in a smile. “I shoulda let you go for a dunk!” Then a thoughtful rub under the single, narrowed eye. “Though I do like you less dissolved. At the moment.”

Dipper narrows his eyes. His valiant attempt to crush Bill’s hand in his own fails at the complete lack of bones inside.

Bill’s insane and weird and clever. He’s the strangest being Dipper’s ever met - but whatever his motives are? It’s - so far - been fine.

Dipper’s not dunked. Or dissolved. Hell, if anything, he should always be more terrified. With what Bill does. With what Bill is.

Best of all, that wasn’t a handshake. Even though Bill’s still holding on, it’s not in the right position for one. Interlaced fingers don’t count, he’s sure.

Dipper struggles at the touch, and gets his hand back, eventually. He wipes it on his pants, trying to shake off the thought.

It definitely wasn’t a shake, because they didn’t make a deal. If they had, Bill would be gloating about it. Dipper can put that single heartstopping moment behind him.

He’s still thinking about it as Bill leads him through the city. The conversation is mostly Bill rambling, their usual light bickering.

Dipper may be wandering around a nightmare, but with his palm flat on the warm surface of Bill’s back, at least he knows nothing else is going to freak him out. Bill would get huffy about not being the center of attention.

“So whatd’ya think of the main dream? Took the blueprint off a guy with agoraphobia.” Bill tugs one one of the passing door handles - which doesn’t move. When Dipper looks closer, it’s literally painted on. “No indoors, anywhere!”

“It’s kind of…” Dipper thinks about it. Nearly silent streets, cold and misty. Even if Bill wasn’t here, it’d be… “Empty.”

“Uh, duh, that’s the point.”

“No, I mean,” Dipper scrunches his face up, trying to think of - he isn’t much for horror movies, but exposure to Bill has shown him enough. “There’s no ominous signs of who was here, either. Like, I’d think there would be… half-eaten meals on the cafe tables, or, like.” He snaps his fingers, trying to think of remnants - “A single, empty child’s shoe.”

"Oh, very nice! I like how you think, sapling.” Bill taps Dipper’s temple, twice, before patting his cheek. Dipper leans away before he can pinch it. “Even if it’s not your thing, you always got something going on in that bonebox, don’tcha?”

Dipper just shrugs. He can’t not think. A dream demon liking what he does think is… morally questionable.

And, maybe, kind of neat.

“We don’t see enough of each other these days. A few hours at a time is nothing.” Bill continues, waving over the scenery. “Not that I’m not a fan of you letting me whisk ya off in your dreams - but what about reality?”

“Nope.” Dipper drops his arm, folding both of them over his chest. “Not happening.”

Freeing Bill was…. Arguably morally gray. Dipper doesn’t regret it, but Bill is an asshole, and Ford was convincing. The main advantage of Bill’s freedom came with their deal, Bill was in a terrible position to bargain.

The second best part is not having Bill on Earth anymore. He’s still dangerous, but not immediately so.

To reality. No so much for people hanging out with him.

“C’mon, kid. We’d have way more time together when you aren’t conked out!” Bill sidles closer. One thin arm wraps a couple times around Dipper’s waist, while the other waves broadly over the scenery. “A full Europe trip, just for two.” A brief pause. “Not that you’d get this kinda quality in your mundane version of that continent, but whatever.”

“If you say so.” Dipper hedges, that sound extremely subjective. Bill blinks at him with genuine surprise; it makes Dipper fidget for a second “I haven’t been out of Gravity Falls in-” Hell. When was the last time he went back to Piedmont. Or anywhere else. “...It’s been a while.”

Bill takes another second to stare. Then sighs. His enormous eye rolls around and around in its socket, in yet another exaggeration.

“Well, think about it, kid. One of these days, we’ll get to it. Me and you, on Earth!” Bill prods him firmly in the chest, eyelid raised in a smile. “We could take a long stroll through the streets, check out a couple cafes, crush a couple local governments- Then teleport over to a boulangerie for pastries! It’d be a great time!”

Insisting on reality. Again. Dipper holds back a sigh.

Letting Bill into the world - even with the compromises Dipper managed, is a horrible idea.

But right now Bill’s off in his own little world - literally, in a way - and that concept isn’t one he’s going to accept. Not the tactic to take to argue against it.

“I guess it’s a nice thought. Or fantasy, anyway.” Dipper pats Bill twice on the edge. “You’d stand out a little too much.”

Even Dipper needed a couple weeks before he got used to Bill. He’s a giant demonic triangle made of maybe-gold. Bill Cipher, in reality, would send pretty much everyone screaming, or reeling in horrified awe.

Probably, Bill would love that. Right up until it meant no cafe service.

“Yeah, yeah, most humans have no taste. Doesn’t mean it’d ruin the occasion!” Bill wags a chiding finger. His arm slips from its loop around Dipper so he can rest a fist on his edge. “What’d’ya think shapeshifting’s for?”

“For wha-” Dipper starts - then jerking back, as Bill’s form changes.

Dipper turns his head away, shielding his eyes against the bright light. And grimacing.

This demonic drama queen. The light isn't typical for his changes, he’s doing it for show. Whatever Bill’s turning into, he hopes this shape won’t have too many limbs, or infinite teeth - or worse, pick him up again -

Trying to smack Bill is always an option, though. Especially when he’s trying to be dramatic. Dipper lands the punch easily, operating on muscle memory -

Into something warm. And firm - but much softer than gold.

Bill starts chuckling. There’s a slow, rhythmic motion under Dipper’s knuckles.

Already, it’s far from the worst Dipper’s had to deal with. Bill’s not on fire, or scaled, and there’s no huge tongues licking out between his tiers. He’s not even slimy this time, though certainly more…. organic.

Dipper opens his mouth to tell Bill off, blinking rapidly -

“So! What’d’ya think, sapling?” Bill’s grin is wide and white and close. Too close, his sudden surge in makes Dipper lean back on instinct. “Ya like the look?”

Dipper stares.

“Eh?” Bill prompts again. Now he’s wiggling his eyebrows.When he doesn’t get a response - he sticks out a tongue - a pink, human tongue, Dipper watches it flick back in. “Where’s the insult?”

Right. New shape. Bill… wants feedback, something to stroke his immense ego. Dipper should….

Say something. Probably.

He looks again at that face. A human face. Bill’s standing there, intimidating; he has eyebrows and a nose and white teeth in a wide smile on this - Dipper looks down, then slowly up again - human form, leaning over him.

“Um,” Dipper says, eloquently. He does another once over, lacking for words, until he meets that single golden eye. And swallows, once. “...Hi.”

“Not too shabby, if I do say so myself,” Bill continues. He adjusts the collar of his shirt, smoothing back his hair - then digging a finger into his fleshy cheek, and twisting it. “I think it’s a pretty accurate translation!”

Dipper nods. He opens his hand by fractions, until his palm rests flat on Bill’s chest, then thinks better and grips the shirt instead.

Okay. This. Is a new one.

Bill’s face - he has a face - is all angles, with a pleased, smug, too-wide grin. He thankfully still has only one eye, otherwise Dipper wouldn’t know where to stare - and he's very much up in Dipper’s personal space. Warmth still radiates off him, just like before.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Bill says dryly. He grasps Dipper's side, just near his hip. His hand is bigger now, and - and Dipper shakes his head to clear it. “So! You and me, strolling through the city-”

Bill rambles on, per usual. The familiarity is steadying. Dipper squinches his eyes shut - then blinks, but nope. The scenery hasn’t changed.

This is. Normal. For Bill. Because this is Bill, showing off again. They can move on.

Will move on, because Bill’s looking like he wants to continue their walk. Dipper should. Follow him. That’s the right thing to do.

The first step is turning away. Easily done, if he stops gripping Bill’s shirt so tight. Forcing himself to loosen his hold works - but now he’s touching Bill’s chest again, and that isn’t great. Though it’s very solid, like Bill - because it is Bill, in a different shape, he needs to remember that. The shirt is soft, though when he strokes it. Maybe silk? Dipper -

Should stop touching it, what the hell.

Bill keeps rambling, arm warm against Dipper’s back. Dipper nods out of habit, stepping forward as Bill leads them on through the city.

Dipper forces his arms to his sides, holding them rigidly in place. He’s keeping them to himself. Thankfully, Bill doesn’t seem to notice anything odd about that.

Not that anything is, but. It might make things weird if he did think that.

Which means Dipper can relax, if only a bit. Demonic self-absorption has some benefits after all.

This is only another strange shape Bill’s taken. He’s turned into way weirder ones, for way longer - and for dumber reasons. Whatever prank he’s pulling is - Anyway, it’s only lasted maybe two minutes, it won’t be much longer. If that’s even how long it’s been.

Come to think of it, how long has Dipper been asleep? Dream time and real time never entirely track, and from this perspective they’ve been hanging out for a few hours. Longer than their typical meetup, since either Bill has ‘business’, or Dipper wakes up. Usually the latter. Eight hours real time is more like two or three in the dream realm -

…Which might be why Bill complained about it.

Bill keeps commenting on the city. Gesturing around. Possibly describing how conquerable it is, as he guides Dipper along on the midnight nightmare stroll,

Dipper isn’t sure what, exactly, the current topic is. He isn’t paying much attention.

He rubs at his forehead. He doesn’t feel much more centered, even with Bill’s arm around his waist again. Still warm, and somehow more solid. Certainly broader.

It also pulls him in and around, until he’s confronted - again - with Bill. His golden eye alight, looking him over skeptically.

“What, is this boring you?”

“I- what? No.” Dipper says. He nearly touches that chest again, and then the arm - but the biceps aren't any better. Technically speaking. He clenches his hands into fists, holding them to his own chest. “...Okay, maybe a little.”

Compared to some random nightmare city, recent developments are much more distracting.

“Yeesh, tough crowd.” Bill tuts, pulling Dipper in until their sides squish together; Dipper still doesn’t know where to put his hands, he tucks them over his stomach. “See, this is why we gotta get more hangout time!”

Bill’s other arm waves over the dream, and a space in it parts, folding up the rest of the scenery. Like opening a curtain, the city is shoved away to two sides, pleating like in a skirt.

The space opens into a void full of not-quite-stars.

Dipper leans in closer, and feels Bill’s arm tighten.

There’s a myriad of images floating in blackness. Things floating through space that’s not space, with a huge pyramid, black and ominous, somewhere in the distance.

The real heart of the nightmare realm Bill comes from, he’s seen glimpses before -

The one Ford told him never, ever, ever to take a single step into.

“You have a point, sapling. And I’ve had it with the tours of these run-of-the mill mental meanderings.” Bill never stops talking. He’s almost proud of it. “Now that I’ve cleared the squatters out, you should come crash at my place!”

Dipper yelps as he’s hauled up - damn it, he should have expected that - and braces himself on Bill’s shoulders. He nearly falls, Bill’s grip shifting, until he clamps his legs around Bill tight.

Not that he would fall - Bill wouldn’t let him - and he’s always been inhumanly, unfairly strong. The arm under his butt and the hand on his back would stop Dipper from escaping, even if he wanted to drop to the cold cobblestone ground.

“Cut it out.” Dipper kicks out from sheer indignance, anyway. Damn it, he knew he should have seen this coming - and Bill nearly stumbles to keep him in place. “What are you playing at?”

He’s done with this prank. With having to look at that face, with its. Everything. With Bill hauling him around like he’s a pet, damn it, he made that clear long ago, when Bill was still imprisoned.

Now he wants to bring him to the center of a mess of insanity and nightmares, what the hell is with that.

Maybe Bill can actually drive people insane. Because part of Dipper - the part that keeps saying ‘okay’ to their meetups has already started a horrible, insidious whisper.

Telling him everything else has been okay. Wondering if it would really be that bad.

“You clearly don’t care for the the terror atmosphere, kid. I’m fine with ditching it for the moment.” Bill jostles him in place, grinning wider at Dipper’s glare. “I got options! We can set up something else.”

“Like what.” Dipper says, flat.

“Look. Bribing you, Pine Tree? It's hard,” Bill says, with some chagrin.. “I’ve already given you power - not that you’re using it - and you got the pleasure of my company. You’ve even got some of the secrets of the universe on hand, but you keep dodging chances to hang!” His eye narrows. “What’re you really into?”

“I-” Dipper hesitates. Without a retort prepared, he’s not sure what to say.

“Name it and I’m there, kid. You did me a major favor, we’ve been walking out for a while - and I’ve been nothing but a gentleman when it comes to us.” He puts a strange emphasis on the word, one eyebrow raised. “What’s not to like?”

A lot of things, honestly. None of which Dipper can say.

Demon, for one. Dangerous, definitely. Insane, absolutely - and through all of that. Dipper has kept meeting up with Bill, even though he could use any of the dozen wards Ford has tried to foist upon him.

Bill’s hand is stroking his back, there’s an arm underneath him and it’s weird and -

God, Dipper wishes Bill wasn’t still in this shape, it’s throwing him off. For a prank, it’s weirdly well constructed, there’s no uncanny valley. Now his mind is racing

Actually, didn’t Bill say it was a translation?

Like. If Bill was a human, this would be how he looked. Still all angles, in a way. Unnaturally strong, oddly fascinating, and with amusement evident in the sharpness of his smile.

“Good! You’re thinking about it. Lemme know what’s cooking in there.” Bill’s grin is white and wild, a dangerous shape on his face. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

A smile that, now that Dipper looks at it, isn’t all that sharp. If he tugs the corner of the lips with his thumb, Bill makes a face, sticking out his tongue -

With a start, Dipper realizes he’s been staring at Bill’s mouth.

Bill snickers, but doesn’t respond. A slow smile, with his single eye half-lidded, and close enough that Dipper can feel the breath on his face. Dipper’s heart is going triple-time, and Bill’s very very close.

At some point Dipper wet his lips, involuntarily. He watches as Bill’s eye glimmers, then slowly shuts.

And -

The blare of the alarm cuts through things like a knife.

Dipper sits bolt upright in bed. Heart pounding.

For a full ten seconds, he flails at the sheets blindly, surprised - until he remembers where he is, and lets his arms drop.

He stares around his room with out seeing it. Still bleary, blinking slow.

What…?

Dipper sits there for another long moment. The sun isn’t even up, why did he set his alarm so early. He knows why he did it but. Now it seems ridiculous.

He wanted to make it less than eight hours. To make it cut off before Bill was expecting it.

Before either of them expected it, this time.

“Shit,” Dipper says.

He fumbles around for the cup on the bedside table. His mouth is dry, and he needs something to center himself, but he only manages to knock it over.

The memory of the dream - a lucid, very real event - is stuck in the forefront of his brain. Dipper can’t shake it. All of the Bill-dreams have been vivid, but this one is even more so.

He almost -

Dipper rolls over, sheets tangling around his legs, with the memory searing bright in the forefront of his mind.

Even when he pulls the cool pillow against his face, it doesn't help it feel any less hot.

That thing keeps running through his head, no matter what he does. The memory's too vivid to be anything less than real. How close he was. The warmth. How Bills eye fluttered shut, along with the vivid picture of his mouth, lips slightly parted.

He's never - but then Bill was -

Dipper hugs the pillow tighter, letting it absorb him in its comforting softness. Even the tips of his ears must be red by now.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

He should have listened to Ford. He should have taken those warnings to heart.

He’s heard so many of them.

Don’t talk to demons. Don’t get involved with their magic, don’t make any deals, don’t interact at all except to eliminate them.

And do not, under any circumstances, speak too long to Bill Cipher.

Ford's smart. He knows how to handle almost every situation, and he's cautious enough to come up with almost every eventuality.

Dipper never had a warning against wanting to kiss an evil triangle. He swears a little more into the pillow, tense and frustrated.

God, he's an idiot.

Bill’s weird. He’s insane. He’s all about every aspect of twisting a mind into absurd shapes - hell, he is a shape. Not a human. Not good.

And not into anyone, as far as Dipper can tell. On the very rare moments the topic has come up, Bill’s been disparaging at best - and even if he was, it would still be a terrible idea.

Dipper pulls the pillow tighter around him. He thunks his head-and-pillow combo against the mattress, embarrassment writhing in his chest.

He’s going to get up in a moment. First, to make some coffee - a lot of coffee -

And second, to come up with his own plan.

Bill knows about everything, or at least he claims to. He definitely likes it when people are crazy, but odds are? He won’t appreciate this kind of madness.

But with any luck - and some careful work, on Dipper’s part -

Bill Cipher will never, ever know about this.

#Me: Oh hey I could write a quick little short for this idea!!#Also me: *staring at nearly 6k* _ :(´ཀ`」 ∠):_#I invite you all to imagine the following with me #First that Dipper is going 'shit shit shit' for a long while about this revelation #He hasn't taken any of the hints for a variety of reasons. Partly self-esteem but also the triangle thing. And Bill's ALWAYS obscure #Never directly talking is 'fun' up until it isn't #And second that Bill has been going #Why'd he have to wake up JUST THEN?? Talk about crappy timing #Just a demon holding his (He thinks) soon-to-be lover. Five centimeters from a smooch #Then *pop*! He's left holding empty air #Augh!! The twenty-seventh date was going so well! Makeouts almost happened!! Oh well I'll get em soon enough #Man I am such a great boyfriend Bill says to himself very smugly #The upside of this AU of an AU is that they both had time to get Squishy Feelings about each other instead of starting off with hate #The downside in a way is that now Dipper unlike before has PLENTY of time to overthink the hell out of this #Good luck Bill you'll need it to get him into bed. Now that he's not in the moment enough to spring for an impulse driven by hate-lust #It's gonna be a while until these losers officially get together but hey that's technically the same #Just in one instance the sex came first and in this one the feelings did #Mind you any 'ily' is a long way off; they're still settling in at this point. Give em time #answers #When will my ability to write short things return from the war *wraps shawl around self and stares distantly at the wine-dark sea*#Gonna give a thumbs up to pchelaus for the kick that motivated me to finish this

126 notes · View notes

wander-over-the-words · 1 year

Note

do you think, maybe when he gets a bit more comfortable of the idea of pursuing a relationship with our resident giant diving suit... would mister sinclair would wax poetic to delta in his mother tongue? hes a very chatty fellow, after all, surely he would have at least a spanish pet name or two to spare?

INHALES

No.

In my personal headcanon, there’re two occasions where Sinclair ever speaks Spanish at length. One of those is when he’s pissed off. like. he could kill a man just by looking at them kind of pissed off. And that’s because he’s taking advantage of the fact that they (most likely) can’t understand what he’s saying so he can insult them as he pleases (though, his dislike of cursing beyond ‘hell’ and ‘damn’ still stands even in Spanish cause he was raised to be a gentleman, so he’s mostly just calling the person an idiot and whatnot). Even then, it’s not really to their face, he’s doing it more just under his breath.

He’ll be packing his papers into his briefcase after a meeting with Ryan that didn’t go his way like “*grumble grumble grumble in Spanish*” “Until next time, Sinclair.” “YEAH GOOD GREAT BYE ANDY *grumble grumble grumble in Spanish*”

The other occasion that would have him speaking Spanish at length is if he’s addressing his late mother and/or grandfather. like if they’re ever on his mind or if he went and visited their graves.

He’d probably speak Spanish to someone he’s working with if they’re better at that than English, and I do enjoy the thought of him teaching Eleanor Spanish at her request (and Delta would absolutely sit in on some of those lessons, and not just so Sinclair can gesture at him like “This here is…?” and Eleanor can be all “Mi padre.” “AAAAnd…?” “Tu novio.” “AAAAnd…?” “Un hombre muy grande.” “Good job, honey.” “*proud Big Daddy noises*”)

Mostly, Sinclair has left his mother tongue behind him. He won’t allow himself to get rusty in it (if one were to look on his bookshelf, one might find a couple of books in Spanish) for the sake of his culture (if he ever forgot his Spanish, his grandfather would dig himself out of his grave and clip that boy around the ear), but it’s only on rare occasions that he uses it. He hasn’t spoken Spanish as his go-to language since he was a teenager. He’s not ashamed of people knowing English isn’t his first language - maybe when he was younger, but nowadays, he doesn’t give a shit - they just ain’t gonna hear him speaking anything else unless they piss him off.

If someone played the “oh you know Spanish?? Can you say something in Spanish??” :D card, he’d smile extra wide, look them in the eye and say “No.” because he’s okay with translating something if someone needs it, but he very adamantly doesn’t perform his mother tongue for people

Funnily enough, the only times Spanish would pop up in their relationship would be because of Delta, not Sinclair

Delta would be fuckin PUMPED to learn Sinclair is bilingual. Like obviously he knows Sinclair’s from Panama cause he mentioned it, but it didn’t occur to him that that would mean Sinclair’s native tongue isn’t English. He’d hear Sinclair go on one of his Spanish rants (not at Delta he’d never do it to Delta nrnrgn just. someone bothered him idk) and just be like :0!!! :D!!!! cause like yeah sucks that Augustus is distressed but hot damn listen to that Spanish!! Just when he thought Augustus couldn’t get cooler, he learns he’s bilingual! How fucking cool is that! Augustus is just so cool! So clever! LOOK HOW COOL HIS BOYFRIEND IS

He’d do his big ol’ AWED BIG DADDY CROONING (“Don’t be cute right now, chief, I’m havin’ a crisis.”). Probably sit there like “psst…Augustus…speak more Spanish” :3c

If anything, Delta would want to learn Spanish so he could wax poetic to Sinclair in it (after being removed from his suit of course), which Sinclair would genuinely appreciate cause like?? damn chief you learned a language just so you could tell a dude who speaks that language how much you love him?? That’s cute as fuck he’s never had someone do that before

In the meantime, Delta would attempt waxing poetic by randomly asking Sinclair what something is in Spanish (and he'd get away with some of that because Delta usually gets away with shit that would bother Sinclair otherwise. Sinclair knows he means no offense). and it’s stupidly sweet stuff like. Walks up to him and points at his own chest and then at Eleanor’s Spanish textbook to communicate “what’s ‘my heart’ in Spanish??”

“Mi corazón, chief. Why?”

Then Delta just. puts his hand on him like “that’s you”

“HA! Now, that was a smooth move. But as always - right back at ya, pumpkin~”

In canon, Sinclair says a total of one (1) Spanish word if you get him to, and that’s if you don’t take Simon Wales’s key straight after killing him; after Sinclair says his “I don’t have much air left” line, wait for a bit, and eventually Sinclair will call Delta up and say “You’re a…a tough hombre, chief. Get the key off him and - and use it to get into the Pump Control Room.”

And that right there is the extent of Spanish he uses on a day where he isn’t angry, speaking to his beloved dead relatives, teaching Eleanor or answering Delta’s Spanish questions

#BioShock #BioShock 2 #Augustus Sinclair #Deltaclair #Topclair #Subject Delta #long post #Headcanon Hell #he also has a deleted-but-recorded line where he calls Simon ''Padre'' so. there's that too #sorry for the wait on this ask!! I'm finally in the mindset where I can answer #and sorry for rambling I've had this headcanon under my belt for ages nnrgngr #Delta rly is out here just. enjoying everything Sinclair does #I know we say Sinclair's a simp (cause he is) but. listen Delta can simp too is all I'm sayin gngrn #it's funny you ask this tho #I got an AU that takes place when Delta is still Johnny Topside #and they have a conversation about this very topic (cause they're discussing their roots and whatnot)#and Topside ''subtly'' implies he'd y'know. ENJOY some Spanish #to which Sinclair just ''aww. and I suppose you're wantin' to hear some sweet nothings now huh?''#and then just deadpans ''tough luck cause I don't do that''#and to his credit Topside is. embarrassed nrngn he's a gentleman but he's an awkward gentleman

51 notes · View notes

01tsubomi · 4 months

Note

hi!! if you dont mind me asking, how did you manage to end up teaching in japan?? ive been researching but info online is so extense and overwhelming and i never have good answers....

hello!! first of all i wanna say i understand the stress - i applied to j/et first and was going to work on backups like int/erac and private hiring if that didn't work out and i'm always thankful that i didn't have to. honestly now that i'm here it feels funny that i stressed out so much during the application process bc i always find myself thinking "damn they'll let anyone in" (often about myself lmao). it can be really odd and unexplainable who j/et does and doesn't take but japan needs a lot of ALTs to keep the system going so if you've got the enthusiasm for it there's definitely a place for you!!

i would definitely recommend trying for j/et and int/erac first before worrying about the other options!! since j/et has the biggest reputation ofc there's the double-edged sword of it feeling the most prestigious and hard to get into but again they do hire a ton of candidates every year, plus it has the highest guaranteed pay and takes care of so much for you pre-departure. idk where you're at in life/when you'd plan on applying but if you wanna start the job as soon as possible, int/erac has pretty much a rolling application and their main recruiting cycle is for spring departures (while j/et won't start recruiting again til october, for departure in summer 2025). int/erac gives you a little less pay and a little less initial help, but it's still very reputable. int/erac ALTs also have a few more freedoms once you're in japan bc i believe int/erac has your school hire you directly intead of employing you to your city's board of education. so for example my BoO doesn't let ALTs commute by car, but int/erac ALTs and private hires don't have that restriction. knock on wood, if neither of those work out, there are lots of sites like gaijinpot posting private hire opportunities. i don't know about the competitiveness of those and they do often require you to sort out visa application or housing on your own, but opportunity is always out there! seriously though i wouldn't worry about that at first. that's the backup plan ace up your sleeve

in terms of what you can do to raise your chances of getting hired, again, i think the enthusiasm is the key!! people say the j/et interview is a glorified vibe check bc they've been known to reject people who sometimes seem overqualified for the position (maybe for good reason - the amount of responsibility you get and teaching you get to do is suuuuper variable and dependent on your school, and probably about ~1/3 of my work days every year i have no classes and little relevant work to do, if any). i don't have a background or certification in teaching but i did a lot of tutoring in college and minored in japanese so i had a lot to say about my passion for language education. i know j/et really loves the angle of "what will you get out of the position, and what will you give back" - i can tell you're excited about the idea of teaching in japan so i'm sure you already have your answers!! if you have hobbies related to japan it's good to explain how being in japan would help you continue them. or you can always research what you could do with your non-japan related hobbies in japan! i love cooking and i started taking classes at a chain studio that does a mix of japanese and worldwide cooking. again i know the hit-or-miss element of it is scary but really they just want friendly open-minded people who can share their culture, have enthusiasm about education and exchange, don't mind the hours/job restrictions, and are down to pack their bags and live in japan. if you have any other questions please ask!! i know this is random but i've helped a couple of friends with their applications so if you do want some extra eyes on a statement of purpose my inbox is always open!! cheering for you!! 🎉🎉

#seriously i got. so so stressed out during the whole application process. and nothing any of my friends could say abt how i #seemed perfectly qualified could help #i really do understand the position you're in #but seriously the job is so much lower stakes than i thought intiially and a lot of the reason i say that is because of how little #responsibility i get #i love my school and my teachers are really receptive to my ideas #but basically once you're here all the meaning's gotta come from you #the dreaded Every Situation Is Different applies ofc #but at my school i don't get directly asked for activities much and get told i don't have to come to class pretty often #so if i'm not taking the initiative and making stuff myself or going to talk to the students myself it can be very easy to just coast #which i think a lot of people do. which i can't blame anyone for because 1) i know people who are physically in the classroom less than #8 hours a week #disregarding if they're given an active role in those lessons or if they're just asked to read vocab #and 2) i also don't use all of my downtime on work-related tasks and i honestly find it hard to imagine how i could #i'm just getting into my thoughts about my job now which is something i could talk about for hours and hours #trust me i do really love being here and i actually like that i have to challenge myself to speak up and carve out my place #i'll cut myself off there because i have too many thoughts #but genuinely good luck!! you can do it!!#asks

1 note · View note

Last Seen Blogs

nucs2012

Регистрация ООО

bluelagunita

Mendiga Bruja 🌱

sinnamonrolldice

Sinnamon Dice

ryozai

✧ kira ; ⬎

glitchback

G-g-g-glitch!