Have the triplets ever intentionally scared the living crap out of some innocent passerby, and none of them can figure out what they said wrong, and neither can Dipper or their parents. (Because they are so used to it they can not imagine it as scary.)

seiya234:

Absolutely. Those little hellraisers know that they are a. cute, b. can talk pretty near in unison if they try hard enough and c. love to fuck with people.

Yarn

stormsthing1:

I was inspired by this to do a thing. I should probably sleep.

There was this great, big yarn basket
eternally sitting in the living room, right next to the couch.
Seriously, the thing was massive, it was wider than the couch was.
When the triplets were little, Henry had insisted that they put the
thing on a higher shelf so that they wouldn’t get into it and choke
themselves on yarn, or stab themselves with knitting needles, or stab
others with knitting needles. However, since the triplets turned ten,
they thought they were safe from any accidents happening, and the
basket has been casually resting on the ground for the past three
years.

They thought wrong. They were not safe
from yarn accidents.

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ii-thiscat-ii:

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Who else could be on day nr. 3 than the triplets?

I don’t know what they’re out exploring, but it’s dark and can only be accessed by grappling hook. They might be a little young to play with that, but, eh, they’ll be fine.

How would Henry and Mabel celebrate anniversaries? Would it be extravagant or mellow? Would the triplets make decorations?

seiya234:

Maybe not so much extravagant as loud, noisy, chaotic, unexpected, and bees?

The triplets aren’t involved with Mabel and Henry’s anniversaries; not because Henry and Mabel don’t love the kids because they do! But it’s also hard raising three kids the same age, so their anniversary is as much a break from parenthood as it is a celebration of their love.

Fic Prompt: Henry’s parents find out about the Woodsman.

seiya234:

Like all my oneshots it seems, this one got long. Long and dark so consider this a warning. Thanks to @marypsue as always for her invaluable help. Thanks as well to @caffeinechick for drawing this for me many moons ago-it was a big inspiration!

——————

Henry Pines put the receiver back onto the hook with a
shaking hand. He leaned his head against the plaid newspaper of the wall and
tried his best to remember how to breathe.

He was 44 years old, he was a father and a husband and a
brother, he was a librarian and a damn fine cook if he didn’t say so himself
and he was fine, he was fine.

Despite the turmoil roiling through stomach he couldn’t help
but laugh at himself. He was old enough not to try and fool himself.

Speaking to his father for the first time in sixteen years
was the antonym of fine. Speaking to his father who mentioned coming down to
see his grandchildren was the antithesis of fine. Henry had refused, told his
father that there was no way he would allow him or his mother within a hundred
mile radius of his children. All his dad had done was laughed.

“Tough shit boy. Your mom wants to see them so we’re coming
to see them, whether you like it or not.” Arnold Corduroy’s voice dropped
lower. “Don’t think I don’t know what kind of weird freak shit you and that
whore wife of yours do at the Shack. And if you throw me and your mom off the
property, I’ll be back with the cops. Whose word they going to believe? Good
churchgoing folk like me and your ma? Or preter-loving trash?”

Henry began to shake all over with the memory of his
father’s words. He wasn’t worried about Durland and Blubs, they were good men
and had known Mabel and Dipper since they were kids. No, he was more worried
about the fact that the Shack was technically outside the city limits of
Gravity Falls and thus under the jurisdiction of Deschutes County. To say that
the county police was not known for their tolerance and understanding of
Fallers was an immense understatement. It wouldn’t matter that he and Mabel had
done nothing wrong, it would be his father’s word over his.

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