👁️ You met this dorito-lookin ass in your dream. It had started like a normal dream, when suddenly everything went dark. You were confused when you were surrounded by darkness; For a second, you thought you had died.

👁️ He accidentally went into the wrong dream, as he had meant to go into the Pines' dreams, but hey, he can't give up an opportunity to fuck with someone.

👁️ You were easy to annoy and he thought that was funny. He's not necessarily out to get you, you're more like a fun toy to him. You find him extremely annoying, but he thinks you're funny

👁️ He becomes rather obsessive with you. He likes having your attention on him and can become jealous when your attention is on something else

👁️ Throws pity tantrums when he thinks you're not paying enough attention to him. Will destroy the world if that's what it takes for you to notice him

👁️ He controls your dreams and you can never be free from him. You were rather annoyed that you had no control or privacy

👁️ Honestly, he just likes you... Like a lot. He thinks you're a lot like Ford and craves what he can't have with Ford

👁️ He'll never hurt you- At least not in the real world. He just hurts you in your dreams. Your so cute when you get mad

👁️ He's inside your mind constantly. He knows everything about you and all your secrets. You can't hide anything from him, even if you wanted too. You'd have to get a metal plate in your brain

👁️ He makes your life a living hell, so you avoid sleeping. He slowly begins to miss you when realizing you're not sleeping.

👁️ You eventually think you're free and that he's moved on, but oh, you were so wrong. It was naive of you to think he hasn't always been there... Watching you

It was during the summer before your 2nd year of college. You had decided to stay on campus instead of going back home states away and thankfully the school allowed that. Honestly, you were also hoping to get ahead.

So, since you were trying to get ahead, you spent a majority of your time in the library. That's when you found the book- One about interdimensional worlds and the demons that haunt them.

You giggled to yourself, flipping through the book, quickly skipping past the gory stuff. That's when you see a page about a dream demon. What an odd thing. What even is a dream demon? Like Freddy Kruger? Those things aren't even real: Who writes stuff like this? You now view the page a bit more to see multiple symbols from a language you're not to familiar with.

You decide to sit down and examine the page some more. You stupidly figure out what it was and read it out loud like an idiot. That's when everything freezes and suddenly you're face to face with a fucking yellow triangle.

He's just as confused as you. Who the hell are you? He looks down and sees the book and is slightly impressed that you figured out the language.

He tries spiking up a deal with you. You obviously don't take it. He tries to lighten up your rejection with jokes. What you didn't realize was that by saying those words, you have let him into your world and you have to force him out. The problem? You don't know how.

You get real sick of him following you around all the time. He thinks you're just adorable. He is actually enamored with you, which surprises him because he hates human. You're different though.

He tries to get you to like him, but you don't want anything to do with the demon. He's not thrilled about it, but he keeps trying. He actually gives you more chances than anyone else and at first he's not exactly sure why, but he soon realizes that he likes you.

He likes the dynamic between himself and you. You're so fun to talk to and play with. You're just perfect- He's quick to separate from you and you finally breath a sigh of relief. Though don't get used to it, because he realizes he still needs to see you to get his fix, so he's always watching.

He gets jealous very fast and easily; Talking to a professor? Well, watch his head explode and then come back together. It must have been an illusion. Oh, going to study with friends? Car crash; All dead. You for a moment wonder if you're losing your mind with all these terrible things happening to the friends around you.

Bill doesn't want to torment you. It's just not something he enjoys doing to you. He wants you to watch as he torments other people. He wants you to be happy with him. It's such an odd feeling for him, but he doesn't entirely hate it.

1.) A Howling Void

Bill likes to deny this one but it’s made clear that they did date at one point

2.) Stanford Pines

This one is pretty self explanatory

3.) Bloody Mary

Bill doesn’t explicitly state what sort of relationship he had with her, but his wording & wanting to reconnect suggests they might have been more than friends..?

4.) Your Mom 💀

Bill implies that he both banged the Reader’s Mom and was in love with her. This is most likely just a joke / Bill’s way of toying with the Reader 😂

5.) Jheselbraum the Unswerving (The Oracle)

When Ford met her in Journal 3, she was implied to have a terrible grudge against Bill. However, according to The Book of Bill, she used to at least be one of his Henchmaniacs. It is unclear what caused her to hate him since then. There is not really any solid evidence that she is his ex, but I suppose it is a possibility, so I still felt the need to include it

6.) The Reader?

Honestly, this is probably a reach, so I’m just going to leave this up to interpretation

Those are the most likely EXES I could really find in The Book of Bill (though he does flirt with others). Here’s another pic below just for funsies because it made me laugh

ok so I talked about this in my previous Bill headcanons but he is definitely very odd about aftercare.

i dont think he'd take the initiative for aftercare if you were not in an actual romantic relationship, like he doesn't try very hard for one night stands simply because its just not something he views as "worth it" and also, i don't think he takes sex that seriously outside of a committed relationship anyways. he's a demon, he's got a lot of time on his hands, not every sexual encounter really matters that much to him, resulting in some subpar aftercare experiences if you're just a one night stand.

sex in and of itself is a very unique experience with Bill and i think aftercare is no different, but it presents itself rather oppositionally to the actual sex act. hes very experimental and intense during sex, especially due to the power dynamics in place during intimacy and how sexual relationships based on true connection are kind of rare for him. hes much more used to flings and "no strings attached" sexual relationships, and so to have sex whether in his normal form or a potential human form with a genuine romantic partner can be somewhat disarming at first. i think he compensates heavily for this by being very very tuned in and perceptive during sex because, even though he doesn't want to admit it, is very aware of how important it is, even if not just to himself. this intensity is basically his way of showing that actual sex in an actual relationship is important to him, and not something he wants to handle haphazardly (which is. something he would never admit aloud)

all this being said, the opposite is true for aftercare at first. he's incredibly intense about sex, especially early into the relationship, but when it comes to aftercare, he just. kind of leaves. his idea of aftercare is licking the remaining fluids off your body with his weird eye tongue and calling it a day- he has no knowledge on the concepts of post sex care, let alone subspace or any bdsm dynamics. because of this, i think the first few post sex interactions seem very... clinical? and cold in comparison to the wild unpredictability he exhibits while actually having sex. like you will have just experienced an incredibly intense and emotional session where you both switch positions and are trying a lot of different things, and it can be very vulnerable, and then he will straight up leave once you're all done. his bare minimum is checking to make sure he hasn't hurt you extremely and, again, licking you clean like a freak, but then he just takes off leaving you sputtering.

contrary to popular belief i don't think this response comes from a lack of care but moreso a lack of understanding, which he would never admit. Bill is constantly calculating all possible outcomes of any situation and whether he wants to admit it or not he KNOWS sex is vulnerable both for you and for him, and when placed in a scenario where he now has to express and possibly explain that vulnerability outside of the shield of sex he kind of just tunes out. aftercare is not something he needs, he's veeerrry overconfident and sure of himself (lies) so he assumes you are too.

Bill is also just inexperienced when it comes to aftercare but again, he wouldn't admit he was bad at ANYTHING to save his life so he just pretends it's unimportant. but in reality he just straight up doesn't really know what exactly to do. he made sure you aren't dead, and "cleaned" you up, shouldn't that be enough?

on the opposite spectrum, i think he could also be TOO intense about "aftercare". like he'll start cleaning you or being silly and joking around but it'll just lead to another more casual/lowkey round of sex, which while always appealing can be kind of undermining to the whole aftercare experience. in addition to this, his high energy and sporadic ideas post sex can be stressful, and again, undermine the peaceful coming down from such an intense high

coaxing him into actual aftercare takes a little while, that much is certain. the first time yoh ask him to really truly stay with you (and NOT start doing anything crazy) after sex he brushes you off at first, but begrudgingly agrees when he sees its something seriously important to you. he doesn't really do much but ends up floating beside the bed for 6 hours just watching you sleep, which is his idea of caring. the fact that he stuck around is telling enough that he's willing to try, he just needs guidance. (but you can't admit that it's guidance. because then he will get really stubborn.)

Bill's weird licking routine is probably the best way to introduce the concept of cleaning up, funnily enough. after he's done licking up your remaining juices, its not that hard to convince him to help you clean up the surrounding area. he may be hesitant to actually help at first but at least sticking around to watch you clean up the sheets/surroundings gives him an idea of what most humans do. after that, he becomes much more willing to stick around, and soon just starts snapping his fingers to immediately clean objects for you. he doesn't see the point in making you di the work, he deems it unnecessary, but when you explain that its a part of the process as a whole, thats when it begins to click for him

when it comes to bathing or cleaning yourselves up together, this is probably the first step in whcih Bill is actually enthusiastic about accompanying you. he'll blow bubbles in the bathtub while you clean off, and might even be willing to wash your hair or back for you if you ask veeeery nicely. this does take a little prodding, and to protect his ego he claims its just a one time thing, but he actually likes it more than he wants to admit. again, it all circles back to power dynamics. Bill wants to be in control of the situation and relationship, and caring for you while you're vulnerable can be an expression of his power in and of itself. at least, thats what he tells himself. he's very deep in denial about growing a soft spot for you

as previously stated in my other headcanons Bill is honestly kind of bad at words of affirmation, he'll praise and degrade you during sex but his aftercare or pillow talk will be absolutely absurd. don't expect anything soft or sweet, he's not honest or sappy enough for that. instead he's asking you the most bizarre questions he can think of, or prodding you on deep philosophical questions that you would not be thinking about otherwise, and very occasionally he'll ask your opinion on things he's been thinking on recently or problems that have been bothering him. once again, its his weird way of showing you he cares, and while this only happens after hes comfortable with aftercare as a whole it's deeply appreciated. while not stereotypical pillow talk, he still wants to hear your thoughts, and in vice versa he will yap to you until you eventually fall asleep. if you're very lucky and he's feeling especially soft he might play with your hair or scratch your back or something along those lines, simply because he is very energetic and wants to channel that energy somewhere while he talks.

i also think that further into a relationship with fully developed aftercare he will start being very clingy! i mentioned this in my other set of headcanons but once Bill is over his whole pushing you away self sabotage hurdle he becomes suuuuper touchy and clingy, he goes from 0 to 100 in keeping a firm distance and pretending he doesn't care to literally needing you with him all the time, and this translates to aftercare as well. the more used to routine he gets the clingier he gets, which honestly makes him better at the overall process. its nice to feel loved after sex and having a literal dream demon be practically glued to your side can feel pretty good.

overall, Bill is very hot and cold and theres a lot of nuance to how he would be in more vulnerable relationship scenarios like these. i think he's a total wildcard who's very unpredictable, but can be coaxed into gentleness with enough guidance and patience

you’re here again, in the empty yard, on the playground where you used to play until it got dark and someone called you home. there’s no one around now. the swing creaks barely and you sit on one of them, letting your toes brush the ground, clenching your fingers tight around the chains, and you swing.

back and forth, higher and higher, and every time it feels like you’re just a little closer to the sky.

the sky, it’s the only thing that hasn’t changed. everything else left because you grew up. people came and went, switched places. but the sky is still there, still silent, dark blue, scattered with stars, each burning in its own light. you still remember them though, the eagle, the swan, andromeda, cassiopeia.

you once dreamed of being an astronomer.

and even now, grown, you still can’t stop loving the stars. every swing lifts you closer, and you want to reach out to touch them.

well. . . at least something in this world stays in place.

though, except for the stars, there was one more constant in your life.

a triangle. a ridiculous, talking, floating triangle with a single eye and too many opinions for someone who didn’t technically have a mouth.

Bill Cipher. the thing that defied all laws of nature, laughed at gravity, and travelled through your thoughts like a parasite and a friend.

you’d be brushing your teeth in the morning, bleary-eyed and half-alive, and there it’d be, a sticky note slapped to the mirror, “YOU DROOLED. DISGUSTING. NEVER CHANGE.”

and when you were about to leave the house, keys in one hand, bag over your shoulder, there was another one waiting on the door, “REMEMBER: IF YOU DIE TODAY, I CALL DIBS ON YOUR BONES.”

even when you’d get in the shower, it'd be stuck on the sink: “HUMAN HYGIENE FASCINATES ME. DO YOU SCRUB YOUR ORGANS TOO?”

and yeah, they were weird. a little unhinged. sometimes kind of funny. and you started looking forward to them more than you’d admit.

he used to appear more, though. materializing out of nowhere, talking your ear off about planetary alignments and obscure constellations. you remembered those nights clearly. you’d point at the stars, and he’d name ones you’d never heard of, from galaxies that didn’t even have a number in human astronomy yet. he spoke of civilizations erased by time, of things older than your own galaxy.

you used to sit on your porch with him and talk about the absurdity of human civilization. he was smart, frighteningly so. and he never dumbed things down for you. he talked like you were capable of understanding, and sometimes you did, sometimes you didn’t, but you loved that about him

and when you asked, quietly, where he was from, his eye would narrow.

“delicate topic,” he’d say, too quickly.

Bill already knew everything about you. your fears, your dreams, your favorite songs, the names you gave the stars as a child. and it felt unfair how much of you he had, while you had so little of him.

he told you once that you were weird. and then, like it was some kind of comfort, “but don’t sweat it, sweetie. everyone in this freakshow town is weird.”

so maybe he’s appearing less because of that mysterious scientist he kept mumbling about. you heard the rumors, too. people talked, said the guy had six fingers. said he was here for the anomalies. you didn't really care.

and suddenly, Bill Cipher wasn’t visiting your dreams quite so often.

and you miss him.

you hate how much you miss him. how empty the silence gets when he’s not zigzagging through your kitchen talking about 4th-dimensions. how your mornings feel like sleepwalking without his notes. how dumb and pathetic it sounds even to you, that the one presence you long for most is a floating triangle with a god complex. but what could you say?

you kept swinging. the stars watched in silence. and you, in return, kept watching them.

forward, backward. the chains creaked softly with every rise. you closed your eyes at some point just to create the illusion of flying.

you were mid-swing, when it came again. that melody. it came from nowhere and everywhere, pressing behind your ears, vibrating somewhere between your teeth and your spine.

you smiled.

of course.

“ah. there you are,” you murmured, already looking around without needing to move. you knew better. Bill could materialize out of a crack in the ground or a coffee mug if he wanted.

but tonight, that demon was feeling poetic, apparently.

the moon blinked and one giant sharp pupil eye opened, and from that glowing socket rolled out a triangle. yellow. laughing. too bright to stare at directly. you squinted, shielding your face with one hand.

“aaaand guess who’s back, baby! enjoyin’ your little emo moment, i see? what’s this, swing therapy? should i book you a session with my imaginary assistant?“

“could you, maybe, not enter through celestial bodies? you nearly burned my retinas.”

“what’s the point of making an entrance if it doesn’t cause mild visual trauma?” he shrugged, floating backwards into a lazy spin. “so. what’s the occasion? out here all alone like a tragic indie film protagonist. spooky swingset, lonely stare. classic.”

you sighed, dry. “just. . . thinking.”

“uh-oh.” Bill floated closer. “dangerous hobby, humans thinking! leads to wars and taxes.”

you let out a breathy laugh despite yourself. “i guess i’m just feeling nostalgic. you ever get that?”

he burstee into laughter immediately. “nostalgia! adorable! you meatbags are the only species that cry over the passage of time, like it didn’t warn you in advance. TICK TOCK, SWEETHEART! y’all live like, what, seventy years on average? that’s not life, that’s a limited-time free trial.”

“wow. thanks. totally made me feel better.”

“you're always welcome, cutie!” his voice dipped in mockery. “sooo, whatcha doing? starin’ at the sky again? tryna hypnotize the stars into making your life less depressing?”

“yep, i just like looking at them. makes me feel like i’m not stuck here. like everything’s bigger than this town. bigger than me. i don’t know.”

“ugh.” he made a gagging sound and morphed briefly into a glittering puddle before reforming. “you and your stargazing. seriously. you’re one constellation away from joining a cult.”

you tilted your head at him.

“what? you don’t like stars anymore?”

Bill fell silent for a moment. his eye narrowed slightly. but then his usual teasing voice returned.

“hate to break it to ya, but your species is stuck on that rock for another ten thousand years at best. moon was a fluke. you guys’ll be lucky if you make it past microwaving leftovers without starting nuclear winter. you’ll never reach those twinkly bastards up there. not really.”

you blinked. your throat tightened unexpectedly from a wonderful support he provides. “you really think that?”

“babe, i know that. you all stare up at the sky and make up stories about it because you can’t deal with how small you are. here’s a fact: you’re not meant to touch the stars. you’re meant to burn under them.”

“you’re kind of a dick,” you said quietly.

“no, you’re just too sentimental and blind.”

you laughed. “well, i like pretending we could go further. beyond the moon and past saturn. doesn’t mean i don’t know it’s impossible, Bill.”

not like you were expecting anything serious in return, so you received that: “hm, tragic. and here i thought i was the monster in this story.”

you looked up again, to the stars.

“you still might be.” that made Bill shut his mouth, he was quiet, for once. meanwhile, you looked down at your shoes. “anyways, ou didn’t always sound so cynical about it.”

“i’ve always sounded cynical about it,” Bill corrected. “you just had stars in your ears.”

you bit your cheek, forcing a smile. “they’re pretty,” you bit your lip and kicked a pebble. there was a question curdling in your throat. it’d been sitting there a while, sharp and annoying, like a grain of sand in your eye.

you didn’t wanna ask. but you had to.

“where were you? why’d you disappear? i didn’t even get a nightmare. not a single one.”

Bill hovered and froze for five agonising seconds, but then laughed with that horrible, spine tingling laugh you loved hated.

“oh sweetie, you jealous?” he cooed, leaning forward. “missed me that much?”

you narrowed your eyes. “that’s not an answer.”

“oh, someone’s clingy! but no, i just found a new toy to play with, that’s all!”

“a new toy?” your voice cracked with disbelief. “what do you even mean by that?” your brows furrowed

“sheesh, sweetheart, relax! you’re still my favorite toy! the others squeal too fast.”

you huffed. “you’re such an ass.”

“thanks!” he responded quickly, but noticing your face expression, he finally gave you an answer. “been busy. got tangled in a little puzzle box of a man. thinks he’s clever,”

he spun his cane around once, then tossed it into oblivion. “you’d hate him, he stinks.”

you didn’t say anything because you weren't in the mood, all what left your mouth was a deep tired sigh until—

“BOO!”

“FUCK!” you yelped, stumbling backwards as he popped into existence inches from your face.

“no need to cry, sweetheart. i’d never replace my favorite weirdo.”

you glared, the corners of your lips turned down in annoyance as you swatted your hand through him like mist. but then something above caught your eye. a tear in the dark.

a shooting star.

“Bill, look!”

you sprang off the swing, raising your arm, pointing your finger skyward like a little kid, excited. “there! did you see that?!”

Bill floated beside you, unamused, already knowing what's coming next. “agh. here we go again. . .”

you clasped your hands together and whispered under your breath, closing your eyes. Bill watched you make a wish without blinking.

if he had a mouth, he might’ve smiled. thankfully, he didn’t. because demons like him didn’t do that. they didn’t melt over dumb human eyes or the belief that the universe gave a shit about your whispered little dreams.

“why do you always get quiet when we talk about stars?” you asked suddenly, not looking at him. “you never talk about them like you do other things. didn’t you ever want to touch them, too?” you turned to face him finally, staring into his single eye. “didn’t you ever wish the same?”

“they’re empty,” Bill finally said after another silence. “cold rocks. radiation. broken bones and screaming voids. you think there’s what? some magic up there? there’s just more nothing.”

“then let me see it,” you whispered with hope in your voice. “show me. let me see the stars closer.”

he blinked, surprised at your words, as if you’d just asked to die. “you’re not serious.”

“i am.”

his eye tightened at that response, annoyed at your stubborness. “you won’t like what’s out there.”

you stepped back. “fine! then i’ll get to them without your help! i don't need you.”

and before he could respond, you ran, your feet carried you right through the dark into the trees, the swings creaked behind you. Bill didn’t follow, at least not physically. but a hundred golden eyes peeled open in the trees around, watching you as you kept running.

you reached a tree, tall one, crooked. and you climbed, feeling branches biting at your skin. your feet slipped on damp bark and you cursed under your breath but kept going. cuts bloomed along your arms, your legs, but it didn’t matter.

your hands were scraped and knuckles raw, twigs tugged your hair and the bark flaked beneath your fingers, but you didn’t stop.

you didn’t care that your legs were shaking or that your breath was burning in your throat, you didn’t even notice the thing behind you. the long black limb slithering up the tree’s spine, shadowed darker than night, waiting. Bill’s little safety net. of course he’d never admit it.

he was watching you.

through a dozen borrowed eyes, clinging to pine. he watched your foot slip and you gasped as you almost fell. and the tendril twitched, ready.

“you absolute idiot,” Bill muttered to no one. “you picked the tallest tree in the goddamn forest.”

but you were too high on spite. too high on that breathless wild hunger to prove him wrong.

and when you were there, at the top, the branch dipped beneath your weight but didn’t break. you sat, dizzy from the wind and the way the dark sky opened up in front of you like a mouth.

holy shit. you couldn’t even think.

the stars weren’t just above anymore, they were everywhere. on your skin. in your eyelashes. crawling into your blood.

you tipped your head back and laughed breathlessly, nearly crying. raised your arm toward the dark hoping it might reach back.

“see?” you called out. “i did it! i’m here. i got closer.”

at this time, Bill was right beside you, floating and glowing in the night. he didn’t say anything for a second, until “that’s it? that’s the grand finale? you climbed a tree. congratulations. you’re a squirrel with emotional problems.”

you grinned, not even offended. “i’m still closer to them than i was ten minutes ago.”

“yeah,” he drawled. “and thankfully, that’s your limit.”

“why thankfully?” your face dropped. Bill didn’t answer so you asked again, louder this time. “what does that even mean? why are you always like this about it? what’s there, Bill? what are you hiding? what’s up there that you won’t tell me? talk to me, what did you see? what are you hiding?”

Bill froze and his form wavered. suddenly, a crimson hue ran along its edges.

“you wanna know what’s up there?” he barked aggressively. “NOTHING!” his tone and words made you flinch, but that wasn't the end of his speech. “fire! death! you’ll burn before you even reach the edge of that velvet sky you worship so bad. what are you trying to prove, huh? that you’re special? some saintly sky-gazing freak who’s above the rest of the mud-crawling masses?”

you blinked, startled. and hating yourself for your own reaction, because your body and voice trembled treacherously, you felt anger.

“yes,” you answered. “yes, Bill. i think i’m fucking special. because i fucking try! because i look! i don’t just let everything rot around me and laugh at it from the sidelines like a fucking coward!”

and that’s when your foot slipped, it happened too fast. bark tore under you and your body tipped backward, air was gone and you were falling like a shooting star, metor, until something caught you, the thing wrapped tight around you, too cold for your skin, winding around your waist, your arms, your ribs. a single black tendril, pulled you from the fall, yanking you from death.

Bill had caught you. and he immediately knew that somewhere, in another timeline, he didn’t.

but in this one, he placed you gently on the ground and his all seeing eye watched you intensely. good. not a scratch more on you.

although he didn’t float down to check more. Bill stayed at the top of the tree, watching the sky.

you looked up at him. heart still punching inside your chest.

“you just saved my life.” you whispered in disbelief, knowing full well that he wouldn't hear.

it was just silence, and that fucking tendril, still curled tight around your body like a belt. you hated this, but more than all you hated how still he was, as if he was trying to look unreadable on purpose, like he hadn’t just snapped at you five seconds ago. you felt like you were a curious child who touched the wrong lever on the wrong machine and now had to sit in time out.

you squirmed and tugged, making the the tendril tighten. you knew Bill controlled them, and if it wasn't letting go, it meant he wasn't letting go.

“seriously?” you snapped, still breathless. “what now, punishment? gonna strangle me with your magic spaghetti thing now? teach me a lesson or whatever?” you wrestled with the slick thing coiled around your waist.

nothing. and that nothing made you exhale in annoyance. worse was that he wasn't speaking. you would've rather he yelled again, mocked you again, burned you with words. . . at least that meant he cared.

it was embarrassment you felt. or maybe just confusion. whatever that emotion was, you couldn't understand it. because you didn’t fight like this, not with him. it wasn’t like that between you two, even your worst disagreements had spark, play, jokes. meanwhile, this felt like a wall had slammed down between you and he was standing behind it with his arms crossed, eye closed, pretending you weren’t pounding your fists on it.

“you want me to apologize? is that it, triangle guy?” you asked louder, tired. “fine! here. im sorry, okay? im sorry i tried to understand you, sorry i wanted to see what you saw. sorry i cared. now let me go.”

Bill looked down, as if you’d finally reminded him you existed. his shape turned back to gold, he tilted in the air slightly, observing you from a new angle.

your stomach flipped, because you still didn’t know what the end of a friendship with a demon looked like. you assumed, at best, it ended with your blood on a rock.

he floated down a little.

his voice, when it came, was softer than you expected.

“you said you wanted to be closer.”

and your heart jumped, because yes. yes, you had. and you meant it. you weren’t just saying things to hurt him. you wanted this. you wanted him, wanted to understand what he saw when he talked about the stars. you wanted to be part of that world, even if it was dangerous or made no sense.

“i did. i do.”

Bill stared at you a moment longer and saw a human who reached for impossible things, despite being made of bone and flesh.

he saw in you the thing he hated about himself. curiosity, untempered. wonder, unstoppable. the desire to know, even when the knowing came with teeth. and he hated how you’d burn yourself just to see what lived behind the clouds. hated how he adored you for it.

Bill didn't like emotions, but fuck, you stirred up all the ones he thought he'd buried in whatever remained of his dark soul.

because you were the only creature he'd ever met who looked at the sky the way Bill used to. you were the first one to get that close. and you didn’t even die.

finally, Bill let the tendril slide away from you, melting into nothing.

and then his form grew, literally expanded upward in impossible geometry. limbs stretching until they threatened the shape of the forest, until everything around him felt small. and you felt small.

your head fell back to keep him in view and fuck, your knees wobbled as you staggered back.

“holy fuck,” you breathed in awe. “you are so dramatic.”

you think you just developed megalophobia.

but still, your feet didn’t move.

his hand, now the size of a huge car, unfurled from his side. he brought it low, slow, like the offering of a god.

“step on.” his voice sounded through trees and came from all directions. that's how huge he grew.

you stepped into it and his hand lifted you slowly.

Bill knew, you were the only thing he could show the stars to without it killing you.

and the air tore through your lungs like lightning. you gasped and clutched at his finger for balance, every inch of you burning with euphoria while trees became moss, rivers became threads of silver. gravity falls, your town, your whole life, was now the size of a postcard.

and you were laughing. you didn’t even realize you were until tears blurred your vision.

“oh fuck, Bill,” you gasped, dizzy. “this is— this is insane! i’m gonna die up here.”

“not unless i drop you.”

“don’t you fucking dare.” you grinned so hard it hurt. you clung to one of his fingers, half-laughing, half-crying. still not realising fully what even happened, being held by something you thought hated you five minutes ago.

“see? this is what i meant,” you said in excitement looking down at gravity falls. “down there, they live their lives without even looking up. they don’t know. dont even look up!”

“then why are looking down?” Bill questioned calmly. “didnt you want to be closer?”

and you turned to look, not down, not anymore. up. and for the first time, the stars weren’t distant and unreachable. stars weren’t a ceiling. they were around you, they swallowed you, clustered like diamonds, glowing.

“thats cassiopeia,” you whispered. “and andromeda, and— that’s perseus right? oh my god. i can see saturn! Bill, i can see saturn!”

Bill didn’t answer, because he wasn’t looking at the sky. his eye watched you, unblinking, drinking in the reflection of the stars in your eyes like a creature starved for beauty. the stars were in your eyes, not just above your head. and Bill had never seen anything like it. a creature with galaxies instead of pupils.

“you have a beautiful iris,” he said suddenly.

“what? iris?”

“part of the eye, controls light. yours looks like it could hold galaxies. i like it.”

your cheeks flushed. “oh uh, always thought my eyes were boring, heh.” inside though, you panicked because a triangle just called you pretty and that forced your heart to beat stupid.

Bill's voice sounded offended. “you’d be wrong.”

you laughed nervously, gripping his finger tighter, feeling your pulse in your ears. the cold air stung your face, but you didn’t care.

you looked away quickly to hide yourself from his all seeing eye. “hey. . . can we, can we get closer?”

Bill's eye narrowed, glinting. “oh?” he purred and his usual cockiness returned to his voice. “what kind of ‘closer’ are you asking for, sweetie?”

your face went completely hot and your heart screamed. you tried to hide it, giving him a blank expression, “to the stars, Bill. closer to the stars.”

he groaned. “i swear i should drop you.”

and you giggled as his eye lingered on you, wide. “i don’t get it though,” you muttered, gripping his finger tighter as the cold stung your cheeks. “you tell me not to look up, you say there’s nothing out here. but you live here. you literally float through it like it’s your playground. so what, i’m not allowed to want it too?”

“ohh, back to our lovely term, you think you’re special?” he asked, voice flat.

you flinched at the sharpness. “yeah,” oh, how stubborn you were. “i mean, i already answered that question, Bill, i think maybe i am, so what?”

Bill was silent again. longer, this time. until you almost regretted speaking. then, “that’s cute.”

you frowned because you waited something else in response, but yeah Bill was still Bill. “oh fuck off.”

“i mean it. it’s adorable the way you reach for shit that’d melt your brain in two seconds. how you think being ‘different’ makes you immune to the burn. i remember that.” he looked to the sky too. “that hunger. that stupid obsession with wanting to matter. to see something no one else does. to believe there’s something waiting out here if you’re just brave enough.” then he let out an amused laugh, “you’re wrong. but i like that you believe it.”

you didn’t know whether to feel insulted, supported or understood. “so what now? you gonna let me fall back down?”

Bill laughed at how offended and naive your voice sounded, “nah.” a tendril, cold one and weirdly gentle, slid from the air and rested against the top of your head, petted you like you were some kind of little puppy.