Im From A Small Town In Maine, And There Is No Ancient Cult In This Town. Unless You Count The Masons.

I’m from a small town in Maine, and there is no ancient cult in this town. Unless you count the Masons. It is, however, possible that there are eerie unsolved murders. Have fun sleeping, everyone that can actually sleep! Unlike me, who has had sleep problems since elementary school!

What dark secret a small town is concealing, by region:

Northeast - ancient cult from old country

Midwest - a monster betwixt the corn

South - that reclusive family no one dares speak of

Southwest - experiment gone wrong

Northwest - eerie unsolved murder

Dear Stan…

Some art for @forduary Week 2: College

This is inspired by the AO3 fanfiction by Tiedyed Trickster, Dear Stan, which is a what-if wherein Stan and Ford don’t have a falling-out, Ford gets to go to WCT, and the twins work together to help Stan get enrolled at Backups Tech where he studies mechanical engineering. It’s very slice-of-life, and the story is told via two forms of narrative and excerpts from letters the brothers exchange during the fall and spring semesters. 

If you haven’t read this fic, I recommend you do

(p.s. I gave Stan his godawful mullet because A. I cannot do his slicked back style to save my life, and B. i headcannon that after he starts taking his studies seriously at BT, he starts to develop his own kinda studying-induced tunnel vision. He remembers to eat and shower and crud, but things that’ll take longer than half an hour is put to the wayside. It annoys his roommate to no end.)

Stan, in order to get a hold of a few sensitive materials for rebuilding the portal, which can’t even be attained through any criminal means he’s tried, figures out that certain people with doctorates in that field have access to those materials. And he’s already tried posing as one of them, with no success.

So now he goes through the coursework and attaining the doctorate. He tries polishing up Ford’s old diplomas as proof, but he has to get re-certified in both of them and do additional work in order for it to be enough. He ends up doing the coursework as a part of his personal study of the materials while trying to understand the portal, so he shrugs and realizes he can use that to just get the degree and then acquire the materials.

It takes some money, and some time. But hey, winters are warmer outside of snowy Gravity Falls and the university in Portland has better heating than a Shack in the middle of the woods did. He transferred as many of Ford’s classes from before to what he was doing now as he could. It wasn’t much, because he needed the groundwork from some of those courses to understand the other classes.

All in all, it took way longer than he’d hoped for, because he had to go through some mostly proper channels, but he did it. He got the degrees, he got the materials. He maintained them so he could keep access to those materials, if he needed them again in the future.

He is Dr. Stanford Pines, he got three separate degrees beyond what Ford originally got, alongside Ford’s original degrees. It’s something he’s almost proud of, even if it’s still tainted by the association with the portal and with his brother’s name, not even really his brain on the certificate. He wouldn’t have this shot if it weren’t for Ford, wouldn’t need it it weren’t for pushing his brother in the portal. It’s a mixed bag of emotions when he’s finally able to get a hold of what he needs, but he does it.

Would fae dipper mean that Mabel and ford bond too?

bond over that their siblings aren’t human (also sweaters and other stuff)

mabel is handling it better than ford

they have meetings

MY FUNNY WEEKEND (JP/ROM/ENG)

Track 4 from Mekakucity Reload. Please support Jin by buying the album or listening on Apple Music/Spotify!

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Rescue and Adoption

In the heart of the fairy mound, there were two identical cradles, each with an identical infant inside.

“One of these babies is the one you bore,” said a fairy. “The other is the changeling we left. You may leave our hall with whichever child you claim as your own. Choose wisely.”

“But they are both my children,” the human mother protested indignantly.

The fairies whispered amongst themselves in surprise and confusion. At last, one asked, “How do you mean?”

“I came to get back the child you stole from me, the one who is mine by blood. I never agreed to give my adopted child back to you.”

Perhaps her words touched the fairies’ hearts; or perhaps her stubbornness impressed them; or perhaps they simply found the argument amusing, novel enough to merit a reward.

She left the fairy mound, an infant in each arm, and brought them home.