A/N: To make myself a better writer, I am doing premeditated prompts. I'll make this multichapter work because I am not fitting 75 prompts into one chapter.

Enjoy my lovelies!

1.) Ford Goes to Sweatertown

The beast licked its lips at the sight of the two brunette children in its massive, disgusting grasp.

Ford couldn't move, wounded by the monster's claws, damn near bleeding to death. He could only helplessly watch the pitiful display.

Dipper was frozen in spine tingling fear, locking eyes with the red glow of the predator's. Mabel, poor Mabel, kicked her legs frantically, breathing hard, eyes pouring with tears, staring at its long, blood soaked teeth. Its tongue, darting out to graze them. Neither called for help, knowing it was too late...

The monster opened its hideous maw, saliva stringing and dripping, and groaned in lustful gluttony.

The adolescent screams were long, the beast torturing them as much as possible. Its teeth ripped into their flesh, hot tongue burning the wounds. Even as the screams were cut off by a series of crunches, sickening to the ear, gallons of blood poured formed the gaped orifice.

...

Ford woke up and let out a long, disparate groan. Tears fell from his eyes and he barely noticed the creak of the bunk beneath him.

In an act of complete weakness and surrender, he pulled the neck of his sweater over his he as and closed his eyes, beginning to hyperventilate.

Stan shook his shoulder, gently quaking for having to climb the small ladder.

"Ford's not here, he's in Sweatertown right now..." came the soft whisper of the old scientist.

Instead of laughing like someone who didn't understand the situation would, he cautiously walked off the ladder and sat on the bunk with his brother.

"Is Sweatertown accepting calls right now?" he asked sincerely, without malice.

"Maybe," Ford allowed.

"Why is Ford in Sweatertown for the first time in fifty-odd years?"

Suddenly, hearing how childlike he sounded, he sighed and slipped out from his sweater, sweat and tears soaking his face.

"It was too real this time, Stanley! Th-that dream...the t-twins...they suffered and I couldn't do anything..."

"Realistic or not, it's still just a dream. The kids are fine..."

"I know, it's just terrifying to have to see."

Stan just hugged him, resting his chin on Ford's shoulder. "S'okay. Just always tell the secretary of Sweatertown to accept calls."

Ford snorted, but whispered, "I will."