#parenting fic

[bubbledtee]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙮

"You see when a new baby laughs for the first time a new fairy is born and as there are always new babies there are always new fairies."

Warnings: none. just tooth-rotting fluff with jamie and your baby girl

Summary: After three long months, your little girl, Chloe, finally laughs.

Pairing: black album!James x fem!reader w/ baby

Word count: 818

A/N: listen guys this im sorry if this is corny but my baby fever is so bad rn. and I did this instead of my English project. ENJOY PLEASE OR ILL CRY

You smile as you sit beside James on the sofa, leaning into his side as he speaks goofily to your little bundle of joy, her back and head resting against the blonde’s long legs that had been propped against the coffee table.

“Did you miss Daddy while he was working today?” he asks with a wide smile, his fingers in the tiny grasp of Chloe’s hands.

The little girl smirks a little with a coo, her tongue sticking out slightly. You and James had long grown impatient to hear her tiny giggles as she reached three months of age, and every day both of you would try so hard to push that slight smirk to a tiny belly laugh.

“Yeah? You did?” he asks, acting as though she could understand him. “Daddy missed you and Mommy, too.” James leans forward slightly and plants a kiss on Chloe’s forehead before turning to you and pressing his lips to your own, leaving a chaste kiss on them. “The guys were asking about her today,” he chuckles a bit, his statement making you smile widely.

You bring a hand up to push a golden strand of his hair from his face, “Really?” you ask, tucking the locs behind his ear as he nods, “What’d they ask?”

James looks down at the still-grinning baby and smiles back, “They asked a whole lot. How she’s doing, if we’ll bring her back to the studio again to visit, if they could come to visit us.”

You giggle a bit as you snuggle into the blonde’s side, “Well, Lars is supposed to come by when you get the album covers, isn’t he?” you ask, gaining a nod from him.

A peaceful silence falls between you as you both watch Chloe look around the room with an infantile curiosity. You smile as you think about how James had stepped up to father her, his priorities set almost completely on the two of you. Quite honestly, you had worried your entire pregnancy that he wouldn’t have been able to do it. You worried that the dedication was too much for him and that he’d try to bury himself in work to try to stay away from it. You also worried his drinking would get in the way of his parenting, the same way it’d gotten in the way multiple times in your entire relationship. However, he had really attempted to cut down after you’d given birth.

You reach a hand out and rub Chloe’s tummy gently, “You wanna see your uncle Lars again?” you ask, pulling the little one’s eyes to you, bouts of curiosity beaming from them. You smile at her as you continue, “Well, maybe Daddy can bring you with him to work one day while Mommy cleans the house, hm? Then you can see Uncle Lars, and Uncle Jason, and even Uncle Kirk!” the names are drawn out as you list them, Chloe’s face once again turning to a wide smile at just the sound of your voice.

“Don’t forget about your Uncle Bob, too.” James coos at the little girl, earning a tiny coo back from her. James beams at her, “You wanna see your Uncle Bob?” he asks goofily, gaining yet another coo, this time louder.

Almost like a giggle.

You gasp slightly, trying to excite the little girl as you attempt to urge more coos from her, “Do you think that’s silly?” you ask her in a coo, causing a tiny bubbly laugh to erupt from her chest. The adorable sound sends joy and excitement bursting into the air, making James and yourself gasp ecstatically. “You think your Uncle Bob is funny, don’t you, honey?” you ask with your own laugh, watching as she giggles even more at the mention of the name.

James lets out a chuckle at the sight of the little girl being overtaken by her newfound laugh, “He’s definitely funny looking,” he says through his laugh, making you giggle, too. It isn’t long until there’s a circle of laughs going around between the three of you.

Between the family.

After a few moments, Chloe’s tiny giggles die down alongside yours and James’ and you’re back to smiling at the little girl in awe. Your heart blooms with love as you glance up at James, his smile wide with delight and love. It never ceased to amaze you just how tame a man as crazy as James Hetfield could be when it came to you. You and his family.

You sigh contentedly and press a kiss to the man’s cheek, his facial hair scratching you slightly. “I love you, James Hetfield.” you murmur as you pull away, pulling his attention toward you.

The blonde smirks at you as he plants a kiss to your lips, “And I love you, Y/N.” he murmurs back lovingly, your hearts seemingly connected in the moment. “More than you could ever know.”

[virgo-dream]

Glitter Glue and Butterfly Stickers 🦋✨

general audiences / dreamling / domestic fluff / retired dream / 1052 words

a gift to my beloved @littledreamling. as I’ve told you before, you are the hope to my sadness. thank you for never losing sight of me when I feel lost. inspired by this post. read here or on ao3

Sometimes, it was impossible for Hob not to marvel at how lucky he truly was. He and Dream had been married for about 10 years, after Dream had decided to step down from his role as lord of the Dreaming for good. Retirement suited his husband quite well too. Dream was making quite the name for himself as a painter and sculptor, and took great joy in taking part of the small tasks of their everyday life. They’d moved to a nice house away from the city, big enough for a nice office for Hob and a large studio for Dream, along with a library they both shared. The move had been great for other reasons too: Dream tended to get overwhelmed in the city, and the both of them could enjoy a lot more privacy too.

When they decided to adopt a child, a bigger house had also been ideal.

Hob had been sitting on his desk for what felt like an eternity, but had in fact been about 8 hours. He was hunched over his computer, eyes already stinging from the strain of looking at the screen for so long. He’d written quite a lot that day, and read even more from the pile of printed out articles, papers and books, research material for his new thesis that he much preferred reading the physical copies of. His main source of comfort while he worked was a single mug of warm tea that filled itself back up every time he reached for it, courtesy of his above god-kind of a husband. Hob reached for the mug, taking a sip of tea that could only be described as “childhood memory” flavored, let out a soft sigh and leaned back on his chair, allowing his mind to wander for a moment.

A soft knock on the door brought him right back to reality.

“Dearest, may I come in?” Dream’s voice was soft, almost like he was afraid he might interrupt Hob while he worked. Hob found it endearing, how much Dream respected and honoured his work hours.

Hob got up, stretching his arms and back quickly, before walking over to the door to open it, smiling as he was greeted by the face of the person he loved most in the entire universe. “You know you don’t have to knock, love. It’s never a bad time for you.”

Dream allowed a private and gentle smile, eyes filled with a fondness that Hob was perpetually greedy for. “I prefer to not interrupt your writing process. I have learned that an interrupted flow of ideas is preferred by scholars and artists alike.”

“And I am thankful for it dove, I really am.” Hob leaned in to press a chaste kiss to Dream’s lips, letting his hands rest on his husband’s hips. “But as you well know, I can always use a visit or 10 from you while I work.”

“You would not get any work done if I indulged you.” Dream’s tone was humorous, as if his smile was evident even in his voice.

“But I’d get to do you, and that would be even more rewarding.” said Hob, winking at the end to get his point across. It earned him a soft flush on Dream’s cheeks, so even if he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he’d done so far, his day had already been won.

“You are impossible, Hob Gadling.”

“So are you, Morpheus Gadling.” 10 years into their marriage and Hob still felt the need to say Dream’s name out loud to believe it had even happened. “But I have a feeling you didn’t come here just to praise me.”

“You would be correct.” Dream reached into the back pocket of his jeans, producing a bubblegum pink envelope filled with glittery butterfly stickers. “Lucy requested I deliver this to you. She said it was of the utmost importance that you read it before dinner.”

Hob took the small envelope from Dream’s hand, his smile growing larger by the second as he read his name written in the handwriting of his 7 year old daughter. “From Princess Lucy to Doctor Gadling” he read out loud, looking at Dream as if his heart would not be able to make it through reading the contents of the letter.

“Ah, yes. Princess Lucy of the Dream Kingdom. I find it very appropriate, don’t you?” Hob had never seen anything like the look of pride that currently resided in Dream’s eyes.

“Of course, I should have known.” Hob let out a soft chuckle, carefully opening the envelope as not to damage any of the many stickers Lucy had used to glue it shut. He then unfolded the letter, written in flower themed stationary with an array of different coloured pencils.

“Dear Doctor Gadling (Dad),

Dad Morpheus read me an article you wrote. I was amazed by it! ^u^ It surprised me that took you 4 months to write it! :O I’m sure it took a lot of work. I found out a lot of things about medieval times! I also liked learning about the things you teach. A lot of things made me say “awesome”! :D I want to read what you write next!

A+!

Princess Lucy of The Dream Kingdom (your daughter)”

Hob tried to read it aloud, but his voice got shaky midway through, and he was glad when Dream pulled him into his embrace and finished reading it for him. “Dream, I—“

“I know.” Dream pressed a soft kiss to Hob’s temple, wiping his tears away gently with his thumbs. “She is very proud of you, Hob. As am I. It was her idea to write the letter; she wanted to give you encouragement in writing your thesis.”

“I don’t think I’ll be doing any more writing today after this.” Hob’s eyes were filled with tears, but he couldn’t be happier. How he’d landed this life was beyond him.

“Thus my hesitance in interrupting you.” Dream pressed a kiss to Hob’s lips, then brushing a strand of hair that had escaped Hob’s bun away from his eyes. “I shall get dinner ready. Perhaps you could play with Lucy while I cook. I have heard she’s in need of a knight.”

“Ah, of course. Can’t keep the princess of the Dream Kingdom waiting now, can I?”

[madsworld15]

NEW FIC ALERT!

We're Getting Stronger Now (QAF, Brian/Justin)

I'm still working on Heal Me, Hold Me, Make Me, Know Me (I know! I know!), but this idea has been bouncing around my head for many weeks now. I've even shared a few excerpts from it on here.

This fic takes place within the same universe as There's Beauty When It's Bleak. It is 10 years post-diabetes emergency. Brian and Justin are living an established life in New York City and parenting Gus full-time.

Hope you enjoy!

[silkholland]

This is the cutest thing I’ve ever read. “Tooktie” took me out. I wanna hold this child.

hellfire baby :: e.m.

summary: when starting a new campaign, the hellfire club didn’t except to see a toddler sitting in their club leader’s throne

content warning: parenting & pregnancy, talks about teen parenting, swearing, basically really fluffy, child’s features mostly based off of eddie

word count: 1013

Keep reading

[valtsv]

are we still doing this because i have a late submission

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

[wolfienation]

absolutely hilarious to me that agatha calls rio a bad boy when in reality rio is actually the rule following jock with infinite patience and care who brings you flowers on a first date.

agatha on the other hand is the snarky girl who gets into arguements with her teacher about the smallest details in the lecture and is constantly getting detention for cursing someone out. she's top of all her classes tho.

[wileycap]

AITA for striking my (M43) son (M20) when he rejected me as his father?

I understand that the title might have you thinking the worst, but please hear me out.

I didn't have a relationship with my son for basically all his life. This was due to my circumstances at the time: I went through a major personal tragedy and was severely injured, to the point of being on life support. To this day I have a lot of issues with my health.

I recently reconnected with my son. I immediately invited him to meet my boss (M92), in hopes that I could set him up with a job opportunity. I feel that this is significant. As far as I know, my son has been working in menial jobs in agriculture, but then apparently chose to leave that life and - to my shock - join a criminal syndicate.

I felt as if getting a good government job would be a way to turn over a new leaf in his life, especially given his past. However, he immediately became combative. I attempted to give him some guidance in managing his emotions, but he rejected that as well.

I'm sad to say that the argument became physical. Some blows were exchanged, but in the end, I was angry enough to strike him. I immediately felt very bad, and decided to offer him the government job on the spot. He rejected me again, and chose to leave very abruptly. I haven't had any contact with him since.

So, AITA?

Edit: Yes, I admit that to call it striking him was an understatement. To clarify, I cut off his hand.

Edit: However, I feel like it should be stated that I myself am a quadruple amputee and we have excellent healthcare.

Edit: I did not immediately identify myself as his father when we met. I think this was my mistake. I think he would have been much more receptive of my message had I done so. As it stands I only told him of our relationship after I had struck him.

Edit: My wife is not in the picture. To my knowledge she passed before his birth.

[ghostbsuter]

The purchase of the mansion was a spontaneous decision on their part.

Sam suggested it, actually.

1 they had the money, 2 they needed much more space than a single apartment could offer, and 3 now she gets to create her own garten of venomous plants!

Tucker holed himself up in his own room, his tech room, because he finally can separate his workspace and his bedroom!

Danny was haunting the mansion in return.

It was during the day that Danny saw the shadow of a child running. He had no idea the mansion was already haunted— why hadn't the ghost said anything before?

Searching for the shadow, it took them all weeks to even get a glimpse of the Ghost.

Only....

Only it wasn't a ghost. It's a whole human child. A human child left behind—

His name is Tim Drake and he has been living here his whole life, how— where were his parents?!

[maddybthorne]

I want a BBC Merlin fanfic where Hunith visits Camelot as a surprise. Merlin doesn't know she's coming, only Gaius knows that she plans to visit. This is set in a time period where all the knights are alive (I'm looking at you Lancelot.) and Arthur is Prince, but running the Kingdom as Uther is unwell.

Hunith pulls up to Camelot and is walking towards the Castle through the citadel, burdened by her bags, when a cheerful voice rings out. "Do you need any help, miss?" It's one of the many Castle servants.

Hunith explains that she is heading to the Castle to visit her son who works there, the servant then offers to carry her bags.

"Oh I don't want to be a bother." Hunith replies

"It's no bother at all! Really, I was heading that way already." The servant insists and they both make their way to the castle, "What's your son's name by the way, I might know him if he works here."

"His name is Merlin." Hunith responds with a smile. The servant stops walking and looks at her. It's not only him that stops at this announcement.

"Y-you're Merlin's Mother?!?" A nearby servant who had been close enough to hear the conversation says in awe.

The courtyard that they're walking through gradually fills with hushed whispers as the news spreads. Everyone knows of Merlin. The Prince's manservant who had managed to not quit in the first week of serving him. Merlin, who changed the Prince from a spoiled brat into a good man whom the Kingdom was proud of and eagerly awaited the day he would be crowned King. Merlin, who had followed the Prince into battle time and time again to save Camelot.

I want a fanfiction where The Entire Of Camelot loves Merlin and is thankful for his role in making Arthur a good person. Where not only the Knights, but the Castle staff meet his mother and collectively decide that she is That Woman and treat her with Respect. Where they treat her like Royalty.

Ofc Gwaine loves her. That's his best friend's mom. Hunith looks at all the knights and adopts them on the Spot.

And Merlin is either really confused by this behavior or knows and just lets it happen.

Arthur has no idea what's going on or why but he treats her with reverence and love because that's his future Mother in Law and he's very much starved for parental affection which she gives him (and the knights) in spades.

But yes, I just want a fic of people meeting Hunith and being like "Thank you for giving birth to your son. I'd die for you both" and her being like "...please don't."

(Bonus if Leon meets her and is just like. "How did you survive being around that little shit (Merlin) for so long?" And she just laughs and gives him advice, which makes him cry because he's just so tired. #LetLeonRest2024 I will push this agenda till I die)

[dclovesdanny]

DcxDp prompt

Teen dad Danny Fenton moving into Crime Alley and getting a reputation for helping. Street kids willing to babysit Ellie and Dan while he’s job hunting can spend the night, have a meal, get cash, whichever they choose. Sec workers who do Ellie’s hair/nails/babysit some nights also get the same benefits. He will treat anyone with injuries for the low price of showing Ellie and Dan their guns/taking them to the observatory/getting him job opportunities.

All of the people in Crime Alley know the single meta dad with two kids, who has helped half the alley at least. Everyone is also aware of how Ellie calls her other parent ‘The Bastard’, and how bad their nightmares are, the ones they have to call Danny for(A few of his repeat guests have seen the scars and burns on his arms. Some of the older street kids recognize that hunted look he gets when people touch him when he doesn’t know they are there. Some of the sec workers notice how protective he is of his kids, and the younger workers. No matter who they are, they all notice how Dan gets quiet and angry when asked about his ‘other dad’. They all have sworn never to let those kids go back to the other dad, Danny included. They are a part of Crime Alley now, and they protect their own)

Danny doesn’t realize how far his reputation goes/how much everyone trusts him until two of his regulars bring in an injured Red Hood, promising him whatever he wants in exchange for him helping their boss.

[soldrawss]

Something something 16yo 2k12 Mikey gets sucked into a portal and sent into the RISE universe and ends up helping raise the RISE kiddos AU

[sttoru]

Could you do a scenario where megumis daycare teacher is hitting on y/n and toji and meg get really overprotective about it <3 love you parenting series sm

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. themes containing jealousy / protectiveness.

you were stunning. that much was known and evident to toji and others around you. your looks were captivating — however, you always seem demanded to deny that fact. even when you have a husband who reminds you of how good you look on a daily basis.

but with good looks comes male attraction; something toji greatly dislikes since you’re his wife. it isn’t like he’ll be mad at you about it — no, not at all. in fact, toji feels a surge of pride every time someone tells him how lucky he is to be your husband.

the thing is: he gets a little. . . too jealous and overprotective every now and then when the harmless compliments turn into blatant flirting.

“oi, megumi,” toji grumbles as he holds his son in his arms, looking out in the distance. specifically at you talking to megumi’s daycare teacher for a bit way too long to his liking, “ya see that? mommy’s being hit on right in front of us.”

the little boy stops chewing on one of toji’s hair strands, seemingly understanding whatever his dad had said. megumi lets out a small ‘oh!’ noise and stretches his arm out in your direction, pointing at you, “mama.”

you were too busy answering the questions megumi’s teacher asked you to even realise that your husband and son were looking at you from far away. toji’s menacing aura, however, only seemed to intensify the more you talked to that man.

“tsk. . . all right, kid—listen up.” toji narrows his eyes at the scene before putting megumi down on his feet, crouching down to be at eye level with the boy. he puts a hand on megumi’s shoulder and whispers a plan in a ‘baby-language’ his son could understand;

the two are being the perfect partners in crime right now (they always have been; since megumi’s birth to be precise).

megumi’s daycare teacher was telling you a fun story about what your son had done to which you politely laughed at. in that same moment you could feel someone tugging at your pants lightly — as if wanting to catch your attention,

“oh — hi, my baby.” your face lights up as you see megumi standing behind you. his big eyes were staring up at you, fingers curled around the fabric of your trousers still — not a clue of what he wanted of you,

you tilt your head to the side in slight confusion and when you wanted to crouch down to be at eye level, the little boy suddenly starts to scream and cry as if he just experienced something traumatic. when in reality, nothing in the current scenery had changed to provoke such a dramatic reaction.

“woah, woah, hey. .” you were startled by the sudden switch in megumi’s mood — his face going from a neutral expression to one of pure despair as he (fake) cried. not only you, but also the daycare teacher seemed to take a step back from the sudden screams echoing in the area.

you immediately pick megumi up and try to calm him down, not pressing him for answers on why he suddenly decided to have an-almost-mental-breakdown-like outburst.

another switch was flipped in the toddler once your attention was diverted from his daycare teacher to him and him only. your eyebrow raised at how easily megumi shut up and went from a state of distraught to one of content in your arms.

that’s when you glance over at your husband who stood near the exit of the daycare, leaning against the wall with his bulky arms crossed, a proud and smug grin on his face — his plan seemed to have succeeded. all credit goes to his son for succeeding in catching you off guard.

“damn, seems like the brat needed his mama’s attention, eh?” toji calls out with an ‘innocent’ shrug, snickering after that, “like father, like son — they say.”

it took you only a few seconds to realise that toji had probably asked megumi to catch your attention by faking to cry near you — knowing you’d drop anything to comfort your child at any time, no matter what you were doing.

“oh, you little . . .” you bite your tongue to refrain from scolding your childish husband out in public. you look down at megumi, seeing him stare back at you with happiness in his blue eyes. you certainly couldn’t be mad at him, “you. you’re lucky you’re cute, ‘gumi.”

you chuckle and kiss your son’s forehead, bidding the teacher farewell quickly (leaving him disappointed by the rushed ending of your conversation), before walking to toji.

megumi squirms in your arms and when you put him down, he instantly runs to his dad, expecting something in return for his performance. toji did seem to have promised him something in exchange for accomplishing his mission—

“papa! papa! candy!”

you raise an eyebrow as toji takes out a piece of candy from his pocket, reserved just for his son. toji was beaming with pride, ruffling megumi’s hair before handing him the delicacy, “here ya go. good job out there, kid.”

you roll your eyes, as that was the only thing you could do after walking right into their trap like that. as per usual.

the cherry on top was that your husband was mocking you like an annoying manchild on the way back home — recalling how worried you reacted when megumi successfully acted like he was crying.

megumi giggled along with his dad, leaving you entirely defenceless. at least you could laugh with them as well.

they got you good.

[lucabyte]

monologue

[ao3-crack]

(x)

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Continuation to This Post :]

------

It was always so strange to hear adults argue.

Grown up fights never seemed quite the same as the trivial spats her and Dipper sometimes had. They were similar in some aspects, yes; Adults and children weren't as different as people liked to think. Mabel had seen adults verbally lash at one another with vicious words just as low hanging and petty as the ones she'd sometimes see kids the same age as her use. Adults arguing was essentially just a louder, angrier version of children fights.

And yet, there was somehow... more to it. Grown up arguments always seemed to weigh so much heavier in the air, and for so much longer than she'd ever thought possible.

Sometimes, the weight would leave quick and early, practically gone by the next morning. However, occasionally, the weight would stay; and grow heavier, and heavier over the years. Until it came to a point when the weight was nothing but a choking, stifling presence that seemed to fill every room in the house and buzz deafeningly in your ears like an unpleasant static that made your head pound.

Then, one day, the pressure would burst with a loud yell, a slam, and a bang, and start building up all over again. It was a cycle Mabel was much familiar with.

Her Grunkle Ford's "Mystery Shack" didn't have that air.

The shack's air smelled like burnt out candles and cheap discount Halloween fake blood, with a hint of real blood underneath the stinging scent of old wood and aged parchment. It wasn't necessarily a very nice air, certainly not in any way the fresh, crisp, clean air of the streets of Piedmont, but it smelled more like home than she'd ever felt back in California. It just smelled like... Grunkle Ford.

She liked her Grunkle Ford. He was super weird; with an even weirder Uncle as his roommate. He checked her and Dipper's arms and legs every morning "just in case someone broke in at night to steal a sample of their bloods"; he despised overly sweet foods (baffling, truly); and he had exactly 27 locks installed on the front and back door respectively that he could unlock all in under a minute with his really fast extra fingers. He reminded her a little of Dipper on some occasions, no matter how much the latter liked to deny the similarities (although, bar the demonic obssession).

However, last night, the air suddenly grew heavy.

Grunkle Ford had a fight.

Mabel hadn't heard it, and she hadn't seen it, but she knew there had been one. She was an expert recognizing the signs; she could always tell.

When she had awoken that late morning, the stuffy summer air had taken an even more sour note than usual, and had become a touch heavier than it should have been. Either that meant Grunkle Ford had just recently finished up a ritual, or a particularly rowdy argument had taken place; and Mabel knew that Grunkle Ford only performed his rituals between 2 to 4 AM, when he thought the twins were well asleep.

It was strange, to feel that same heavy air push down upon her temples and pound that same painful rhythm of a mounting headache as it used to do so often back when Mabel was in California. It had already happened a few times at the shack, but this one felt... heavier, than usual. She didn't think she would have to encounter the discomforting weight again this summer, away from her parents. Yet here she was. Aching.

She knew Gunkle Ford and Uncle Bill fought and bantered. With Bill being a permanent resident trapped within her Grunkle's mind, she couldn't imagine how they wouldn't. She didn't think even she could keep her cool if she had Uncle Bill as her brain roommate 24/7.

In any case, their interactions in front of the twins were mostly a mixture of exasperated resignation, or irritated tolerance, mostly from Grunkle Ford. Their occasional volleying exchanges of vitriol doused insults and words were short lived, and brief most of the time, especially when in front of the kids. They were nothing like the long, loud ones that could go on for hours back at her house in Piedmont.

Even so, there were some times when Mabel would see Grunkle Ford late in the evening, red faced and tight fisted, stomping down to the basement and disappearing into his lab there with a deafening slam of the rickety wooden door. She recognized that slam. He didn't want the twins to hear the argument.

Even if they could hear anything, what little they could glean always seemed to be only side of the argument, with Grunkle Ford yelling curses at Uncle Bill inside his head. She always did wonder what happened inside Grunkle Ford's head. Although, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer. She couldn't imagine the state of the mind of someone who sometimes forgot to eat or sleep for almost a full week until someone reminded him.

The entire day passed with that same, tense air choking the atmosphere. Dipper had dragged Mabel and himself to some adventure in the forest, but it seemed to her that he was just trying to find excuses to stay out of the shack for the time being. Even he seemed to feel the unnerving heaviness of the air.

That night, underneath her sheets, Mabel pulled out the worn and well used wooden art mannequins Dipper and Grunkle Ford seemed to keen on using to summon Bill rather than their own shadows. With her trusty golden glitter pen (that she knew Uncle Bill loved despite what he claimed), she gently drew a closed eye upon the blank wooden face of the little model.

The eye opened, and she spoke: