sing a new song
summary: you can’t escape from the all-seeing eye.
for the birthday of one certain @oilux. rudimentary possible mabill. mabel is 20.
mabel wakes up, sticky-mouthed and tongue dry.
ever since she’d started making her mabel juice with extra coffee, she’d found this happening more often than not. the visions would come back, fluffy sweaters and dipper screaming and grunkle ford somehow frozen in gold–
she smacked her cheeks in a vague attempt at waking up, half-aware and rising from under her mountain of blankets. her voice is still slurred from terror and sleep as she carefully stepped over a unicorn plush she was mending. her voice wasn’t convincing, even to herself, but she still had to try.