Not On The Wheel (Bill Cipher x Reader)

Chapter Two: Dreaming of Gibberish

Hey there, Cipher here!

Hope you're enjoying the story so far. This chapter is a little short, but I make up for it in the next one.

I'm planning on having at least a full body ref of (how I always pictured) Y/n in the next chapter. Don't hold me to it though, I have a lot of work this week lol.

Anyway, hope you enjoy! Share, vote, and comment if you'd like :D

Thanks for reading!
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After a long-awaited shower and a quick dinner, Y/n found herself crawling into her makeshift bed.

Dinner was incredibly awkward at first, with neither herself, the twins, or Grunkle Stan knowing how to break the ice. But once Stan started choking on cheese stuck in his throat— which naturally, the kids laughed at him rather than help— things seemed to flow smoothly. A small conversation about homelife sprung to life until Stan killed it with seedy business tips after Dipper asked about the... ethics of the shack.

Y/n had replaced her "day" hoodie with a "night" hoodie— two things she swears are different— and changed into some flannel pajama pants. She considered opening up her laptop and scrolling through a couple of CommonApp questions, but decided against it when her yawns couldn't be contained.

The room was naturally dark, but she was grateful for the sparse moonlight spilling onto the floor from the window. She thought it looked rather pretty as it drew shadows and different patterns on the floor.

Soon enough, much to her delight, sleep overcame her, and she drifted off into one of her beloved dreams...

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n always had rather... odd dreams.

Starting from a young age, the girl always seemed to have a rather strong control over them. They were always extremely vivid, and most times she was able to manipulate them to a certain degree. Nightmares where she was being chased by a monster were changed to a nice game of tennis with them instead.

Odd turnaround? Yes; definitely; absolutely. But they were dreams after all.

As she got older, her control over her subconscious grew alongside her. She had such a strong ability to lucid dream; at a level that most people could only yearn for. Her dreams became more fun, and soon enough sleeping became a highlight of her day... or night, rather. She loved falling asleep and manufacturing her own dreams.

Her lucid dreams always started the same: she'd "wake up" sitting in a field of green, resting against a large tree. From there, she'd slowly create her dream. She knew that field; it was the area that stood outside of her old childhood house, on the perimeter of the forest, and beside the winding driveway.

Y/n never knew why she'd end up there, but when she wasn't in the mood for a lucid dream or when she needed a break from her stressful day, she'd just sit there. It was a nostalgic sight and filled her with a sense of belonging, no matter how bittersweet the fact that she could never go back there physically seemed to be.

It was peaceful; she'd just relax against that tree, breathing in the fresh forest air. Sometimes, if there was something stressing her in reality, like a homework assignment or upcoming test, she'd use that time to think about it or even study. Her photographic memory came into play then. The same way she could create scenery and locations, she could create and reproduce small everyday items she used, like her binder or textbook.