Gravity Falls Stanford - Blog Posts

— Give up your honor and faith. Live out your life as a wraith.

arrived at a new kind of brainrot

gravity falls art dump ! i didnt evwn realize how much i draw them wtf expect a part 2 cause i dont wanna flood this

(Ok here is my two cents on what i would do)

I’d probably be a mix of intrigued and wary. He’s got that “I know something you don’t” energy, like he’s about to drop some cryptic wisdom or pull a harmless prank.

I’d hold his gaze for a moment, trying to read his intentions. Maybe tilt my head slightly and say, “Alright, what’s on your mind?” If he stayed quiet, just smirking, I’d probably fold my arms and chuckle. “You look like a man with a plan. Should I be concerned?”

Hey fandom? Do me a favor and caption this. Mostly because Ford being smug is one of my favorite expressions on him. Reblog with what you think would be a great caption!

On a slight tangent, what would you do if he looked at you like this? Might chuck the most popular answer into a new Dating Sim I'm working on.

I did it… I saved the town…

And here's my 2nd submission to the gravity falls zine

Originally I was gonna do also another one of Mable and Dipper as I was making them for a collaboration with @cjonkulous and their fic, but got hot with art block, so have the stan brothers

Again, the wonderful zine is being organized by @howtokillavampire

best friends

something made for @howtokillavampire 's gravity falls halloween zine!!! This is another adventure time/fionna and cake reference if you can't tell aha ^^

puts this here very carefully and skitters away

happyfiddle fridy

I can't stop thinking about them

full image below

birdhouse in your soul

Couldn't contain myself 😣 had to draw him

As a Doctor Who and Gravity Falls fan, I think the Master/Missy and Bill are very similar in many ways.

The Master has the Time Lords' march sound stuck in his head while Bill hears the Euclydians' screams.

The Master is one of the last ones from his species and Bill is the last one from his.

They are both associated with "I can't decide" by Scissor Sisters.

They both have a romantic and unhealthy obsession with a guy who travels the universe and has a group of friends/family.

They both have style and elegance ✨

Maybe there are more similarities between them, but these were the ones I could remember myself of.

Okay, now I need fanarts of Bill saying "I don't know what I'd be without that noise." and Ford responding "I don't know what I'd be without you." or Master in a bar (or in a hospital) asking for "One Doctor, please."

Okay, since I've discovered the Pines family is Jewish I tried to analyse Gravity Falls in a religious point of view for them.

(Apologizing since now to jewish people if what I'll say is offensive to you, and if it is I'll immediately delete this post)

So, Jewish believe that there's only one transcendent powerful god.

What if Stanford thought that Bill Cipher was this god? And that Bill chose him to be his prophet or something like that?

Well, many times Bill said that he had divine knowledge and Ford never disagreed and Bill really is a kind of transcendental God

Maybe this won't make sense because he wouldn't defy God's authority like he did in the Book of Bill's scene where Bill breaks Fiddleford snow globe and they start fighting, among other examples.

Maybe he just thought that Bill was the transcendent powerful God during the time Bill was deceiving him and he didn't notice.

It doesn't matter if it's chaotic. If we get this kind of content, we're all happy :)

I'll just make a list of Gravity Falls' spin-offs that I would like to watch:

- A spin-off telling what Stanford saw during the 30 years that he spent in the Nightmare Realm and other dimensions. Stanford wrote in Journal 3 that he would need 10 journals to write about what happened when he lived there, so there must be many amazing things to see (I also would like to know more about the Oracle/Seven-eyes, she seems quite mysterious).

- A spin-off about Bill's whole life before meeting Stanford. Since his life in Euclydia (and its destruction) to the moment he meet the Henchmaniacs and each of his tries to trick humans to build a portal for him.

- A spin-off of Stanley and Stanford's adventures in Stan'O War. Maybe we would get to know more characters, like saylors or old friends of theirs.

- A spin-off about the childhood/teenage years of Stanley and Stanford in New Jersey. I think it would be fun to see a rivalry between the two Stans and the Sibling Brothers (those blonde twins from the comics) and some school situations that they have been through.

- A little spin-off of Stanley's schemes to sell things during the 10 years he was far from his family. Each episode would tell a story of a different product to trick people and in the end of every episode, he would be expelled from the city where he was selling it. There could also be some romantic episodes of Stanley's relationships (I would like to see Marylin with him, ya know).

- A little spin-off telling what happened to Blendin before and after the Weirdmageddon. I know it is revealed in Journal 3's letter, but I'd like to see more of his life while he was running away from the Time Agents.

(Please, just ignore the fact that most of my ideas are about Stanley and Stanford, they are my favourite characters)

Bro what if Stanford and Fiddleford have already had sex, but Fiddleford erased that from Stanford's and from his own mind??

Stan: I'd fuck your assistent.

Ford: I'd fuck my assistent too.

Bill: I'd fuck you and your assistent.

Stan: What? 😨

Ford: What?? 😳

Bill: What??? 🤨

I just imagined Bill in Ford's body dancing the Deadpool intro and recording it to terrify Ford.

(It just popped in my mind)

Sza predicted Billford

Normal people after ending a toxic and abusive relationship: I hope I never see my ex ever again. I have to get over this traumas and take care of myself.

Stanford after ending a toxic and abusive relationship with a triangle: I will dedicate the rest of my life to kill my ex, that's the best idea.

Why do gay guys use this kind of shorts

and this kind of shirts?

Okay, but we all do agree that Stan and Ford send letters with the address where they're going to spend the Christmas to Dipper and Mabel so they can send them gifts and vise versa. Right?

I think that Mabel would send them sweaters that she made. Stan uses them when it's really cold (he pretends that he doesn't like them) and Ford it's always using them (after all, he also loves sweaters). Mabel always makes turtle neck sweaters for Ford because he showed her his tatto once (and she plans to do the same tatto because she loves it) and said that he wanted to hide it.

Dipper would send Ford a copy of a book that he read about paranormal stuff or some accessory of some movie/series/game that they both like and he would give Stan a key chain related to money or cassinos or a pair of pants.

Stan would steal a wallet from someone in the street and send the money he finds there (or in his brother's bedroom) to the twins or he would ask Ford to buy something for them for him. Or he even would walk into a shop and buy the first thing that he sees with glitter or animals and the first thing that screams "NERD" (or that puts Ford's eyes glowing).

Ford sends Dipper books that he liked to read when he was his age and he gives Mabel romance books that have colorful covers or something related to Ducktective.

Is this headcannon or cannon?

EDIT: I didn't know that the Pines are Jewish. So, instead of Christmas, they would buy this gifts for Hanukkah. They buy 8 gifts for eachother (out of the things I said) and they open them during the 8 days of Hanukkah :D

I'll just make a list of Gravity Falls' spin-offs that I would like to watch:

- A spin-off telling what Stanford saw during the 30 years that he spent in the Nightmare Realm and other dimensions. Stanford wrote in Journal 3 that he would need 10 journals to write about what happened when he lived there, so there must be many amazing things to see (I also would like to know more about the Oracle/Seven-eyes, she seems quite mysterious).

- A spin-off about Bill's whole life before meeting Stanford. Since his life in Euclydia (and its destruction) to the moment he meet the Henchmaniacs and each of his tries to trick humans to build a portal for him.

- A spin-off of Stanley and Stanford's adventures in Stan'O War. Maybe we would get to know more characters, like saylors or old friends of theirs.

- A spin-off about the childhood/teenage years of Stanley and Stanford in New Jersey. I think it would be fun to see a rivalry between the two Stans and the Sibling Brothers (those blonde twins from the comics) and some school situations that they have been through.

- A little spin-off of Stanley's schemes to sell things during the 10 years he was far from his family. Each episode would tell a story of a different product to trick people and in the end of every episode, he would be expelled from the city where he was selling it. There could also be some romantic episodes of Stanley's relationships (I would like to see Marylin with him, ya know).

- A little spin-off telling what happened to Blendin before and after the Weirdmageddon. I know it is revealed in Journal 3's letter, but I'd like to see more of his life while he was running away from the Time Agents.

(Please, just ignore the fact that most of my ideas are about Stanley and Stanford, they are my favourite characters)

Does Stanford also have 6 toes on each foot?

(The answer is probably no, but I was curious about it)

Those are crazy parallels, well pointed out!

I made a past post showing parallels between Gideon & Bill a while back but the main parallel I noticed are their relationships to Ford and Mabel:

They used to be close to Ford/Mabel before their messed up actions caused a falling out between them

Gave them chances to join their side

Held them captive during the course of Weirdmaggedon

Now this could've been accidental and me just reading into things but the Book of Bill had this recurring idea of Bill being Ford's toxic, abusive ex. It just really cemented this parallel and the idea of Bill being Ford's Gideon.

IN ADDITION - While this might be reaching, I think with this idea in mind, there's an additional way to read to Gideon's line:

"Bill explained it to me nice and simple. She was always destined to be mine. Now that I have her trapped in a cage, she'll learn to love me. I have an eternity to wait"

Another way to read that is, Bill's projecting onto Gideon & Mabel a bit and this was what he initially had planned with Ford: Keep them trapped, and use the endless amounts of time they have to make him "learn" to love him, but then the barrier surrounding Gravity Falls derailed that

picked up my stylus for the first time in a while!! and of course, its a gravity falls shitpost.

alternatively:

how do people draw the tritangle so expressively :(((

I'm so bored omg

Stanford Filbrick Pines

Palabras: 4,338

Extracto: Él era tan pequeño a su lado, podía caber en la palma de su bidimensional mano y pelar capa milimétrica por capa milimétrica para hacer lo que le diera la gana con la materia prima y los residuos. Goce previo en este momento repulsión por lo sentido.

Maldición escrita: Vi a alguien que pedía esto en Tiktok y lo hice. Descripciones de locura y más locura, comportamiento suicida, manipulación, paranoia, tipo de trauma religioso, representaciones explicitas de autolesión (pensamientos y acciones) y tal vez temas más delicados, ten esto en cuenta, MDNI. Esto es básicamente mi testamento en donde confieso que necesito terapia, me la pasé busque que busque sinónimos para esto. See ya darlings!

Translated version-English

Caminaba entre nieblas de un limbo penumbroso… si es que hace sentido dicha descripción tan vaga, ponía mi atención a cada paso que daba pero no lo sentía, casi como si de un sueño se tratase hasta que esta fue redireccionada, algo se escuchó a lo lejos y me pregunté qué podría ser. Cargaba consigo un aire siniestro, tintes perversos que goteaban de manera flemática, lo prohibido,la tentación, el pecado que tal como su pasaje sedujo a acercarme, así, poco a poco no sólo era un cántico insólito sino también un olor particular, una sensación que erizaba la piel pero como todo aquí estaba lejos de comprender. 

El tiempo se distorsionó y mi mente cayó en una espiral de la que ni siquiera sabía que había entrado hasta que al verme en un reflejo lúgubre una realización develó, era yo. 

Ese olor, ese sonido, todo… no era más que mi propio cuerpo, aquel recipiente vacío y a su vez putrefacto que anda sin rumbo a la espera de un final pero incluso si sucumbiera ante las garras de la mortalidad, sé que mi cadáver no sería más que veneno para esta tierra que ahora maldice mi existencia. Suplico misericordia aún si no soy merecedor y cómo hereje recibo cruel castigo que acecha en lo más profundo de mi ser, lo que desde un inicio me carcome, lo que me llevó a este estado. 

Un simple acto como el desliz de unas cortinas se sentía tan traicionero, le estaba dando la espalda y dejándolo a la deriva. Se lo merece, después de todo lo que hizo era absurdo que pensara que recibiría alguna defensa de su parte. Colocó el recordatorio de la herida recién hecha en la basura y trató de conciliar el sueño pero en ningún momento pestañeó, los minutos pasaban ignorantes a su situación y emociones tan abrumadoras que parecían burlarse sin decoro. Había encontrado una motivación que se esfumó a la misma velocidad con la que llegó, tenía que hallar otra meta, un propósito, algo que le diera lo que siempre ha añorado. 

Los días transcurrieron sin algo recalcable, una rutina ciega y cansada entre pasillos, salones y su dormitorio con el cambio irregular de ir a la biblioteca o las charlas con su compañero de cuarto, con quien compartía ciertas aficiones. Se trataba de convencer que lo disfrutaba que a pesar de ser un resultado no esperado podía sacarle provecho y demostrarse a sí mismo que los demás estaban equivocados, que él era mejor. 

Al tomar la decisión de vivir en Gravity Falls fue cómo si esa pequeña llama luchara por seguir incandescente y quisiera hacerse más grande. Podría tomarse como una huída de su hogar de cierta forma, kilómetros y kilómetros de distancia entre sus padres lo cuál no hace mucha diferencia de lo que era en Backupsmore. 

Todo era distinto, una nueva vida a la cuál no dejaría que nada ni nadie la estropeara. Y así fue por bastante tiempo, no había día o noche en la que no encontrara alguna cosa fascinante, una distracción y un alivio temporal a sus pensamientos que más le abatían pero luego, tal rosa, se empezó a marchitar y los pétalos cayeron. Dejando de nuevo un apetito voraz.

¿Y qué pasó cuándo la serpiente se le acercó? Cayó en el engaño. Tan desesperado por una pizca de reconocimiento, la aceptación… ¿Y qué persona podría resistirse ante un ser más grande que su propia existencia? Era todo un honor ser el predilecto de tan excelsa presencia, un ser poderoso que sí respondía a sus ruegos, a sus dudas, donde creía caminar en el mismo piso que este y no por debajo como por tantos años fue con los de su especie, por fin era un igual.

Un caída en picada hacia la veneración.

La noche era más pálida que la propia luna, sus emanaciones se trabucaban al pasar por los vitrales con motivos que con mi propia voluntad repartí por toda mi morada. Inmerso en mis inscripciones Bill merodeaba en el mismo espacio y cututeaba de cosas a las que no les prestaba suficiente cuidado ya acostumbrado a sus acciones. Al terminar mi último trazo coloqué la pluma a un lado y cerré el frasco de tinta para dejar reposar y por lo tanto secar el contenido de la página.

"Oye, Seis dedos" giré mi cabeza y lo primero con que se encontraron mis ojos fue con el triángulo reflejando mi apariencia, arqueé la ceja hasta que prosiguió "Apuesto que no esperabas encontrarte con alguien tan guapo, ¿Cierto?" río para volver a su color, chasqueó los dedos y me apuntó "¿Entendiste mi juego de palabras?", "Claro que lo entendí, es algo bastante simple para no hacerlo" ajusté mis lentes antes de cerrar mi diario , levantarme de la silla y caminar para dejarlo en el estante junto a los otros libros de mi colección.

"Te demeritas mucho, ¿No crees? Date un poco de crédito" giró sobre sí mientras avanzaba conmigo "Me doy crédito, sé cuando las cosas son fáciles, Bill" volteé mis ojos y salí del cuarto, en las escaleras estaba atrás de mi "Eso es porque eres muy inteligente y perceptivo, no cualquiera lo hubiera entendido la primera vez o la segunda" ante estás palabras sonreí pero no por mucho ya que el día me había agotado bastante para utilizar mis músculos. La cabaña tan solitaria como el día que se terminó de construir, por una parte era tranquilizador no tener que lidiar con esos ruidos resultado de hábitos molestos de otras personas pero por el otro lado se llegaba a sentir de más la soledad… por lo menos tenía a Bill a mi lado, aún si llegaba a desesperar pero muy rara vez. Tal vez debería realizar una estadística sobre eso.

"Es mejor así como estás si me lo preguntas" volví a escuchar su voz pero esta vez no le miré, bajaba escalón por escalón hasta por fin llegar a la planta baja "¿De qué hablas?" realmente no tenía idea, "Nadie te merece, Ford" aquella confesión me intrigó ahora en la cocina dónde no prendí el foco y sólo abrí uno de los cajones de la alacena por un vaso "En serio, digo, sólo mírate seis dedos; atractivo, inteligente, gracioso, organizado. Eres muy bueno para los demás" se puso en mi campo de visión y cruzó los brazos "Y dudo mucho que te conformarías con eso de todas formas".

Las circunstancias que llevaron a tan fatal encuentro…

Cerré mis labios y me quedé callado, sus palabras como gasolina para que pensamientos y especulaciones se anidaran en mi cabeza "Eso nunca lo sabremos, son acontecimientos contrafácticos y situaciones hipotéticas"tomé del vaso que previamente llené de agua "Además, suena como si fuera un narcis…", "Oye, oye, para tu carro amigo" Bill empujaba y jalaba sus brazos en el espacio entre él y yo "No lo digo con esas implicaciones, eres muy humilde Stanford" movió su cuerpo de tal manera que daba la impresión de sacudir la cabeza, alzó los brazos "Todo lo que estás haciendo beneficiará a la humanidad, para mi eso es no ser un egoísta, todo lo contrario" se acercó y colocó su codo en mi hombro derecho.

"A lo que me refiero es que estás mejor así" con la mano abierta del otro brazo me señaló moviendo de arriba a abajo está para enfatizar su punto "Eres más feliz de lo que pudiste ser de no haber sido así" yo seguía con los ojos puestos en él sin hablar "Te lo enseñaré" se alejó un poco para extender su brazo "Confías en mí, ¿Cierto?". Me era algo extraño que Bill solía preguntar acerca de mi confianza hacia él con la frecuencia en que lo hacía, pero siempre supuse que al ser alguien con sus poderes era normal, después de todo era lógico que al darme conocimiento y su amistad necesitara saber que yo no haría mal uso de su generosidad.

"Por supuesto que lo hago" tomé de su mano, su ojo se curvó "Siempre puedes confiar en mí, Sixer".

La cabaña se empezó a desmoronar y con brusquedad el entorno se modificó a una construcción impecable que no reconocía, al menos no al instante, las risas y platicas llenaron mis oídos mientras que mis ojos se aventuraban a acostumbrarse a los adentros, el sonido de unas puertas abiertas me hizo rolar ligeramente dónde vi algo que me estrujó el corazón, al frente de butacas y más butacas ahí estaba yo, caminando en el escenario con una toga, recibía mi título y era claro. Me estaba graduando de West Coast Institute of Technology.

Era algo irreal verme en esta situación, el ver como mi rostro reflejaba verdadero entusiasmo y felicidad al lograr uno de mis tantos sueños que tuve en la adolescencia. Mis padres estaban ahí, Stanley estaba ahí y su rostro era una mezcla de orgullo y alegría por mi; decepción, soledad y duda en esos pequeños detalles. Continuaba con una celebración familiar hasta que la escena cambiaba por segunda vez donde ahora trabajaba de inventor en una especie de empresa, sabía que el tiempo avanzaba gracias al calendario ficticio, lo que en un inicio llenaba de motivación al Stanford en frente de mí ahora le producía desdicha al ser limitado por su contrato, ya no tenía tiempo de sus propios proyectos o la familia con la que mantuvo contacto.

Y cambió todo de nuevo, me hallaba en Backupsmore y otra posibilidad se desenvolvió, conocía a alguien y desarrollabamos sentimientos el uno por el otro para luego, ¿Casarnos? Eso sería una pérdida de tiempo a mis investigaciones y más siendo que observaba como ambos nos establecemos en Gravity Falls para luego iniciar una pequeña familia, con similar resultado gradualmente caía en lo mismo: desdicha, pena, recelo ante la insatisfacción de la vida que llevaba. Me separaba de quien era mi cónyuge para intentar tener algo de serenidad pero nada, con constancia me veía a mi otro yo sumergido en los recuerdos y los tormentos de su decisión, de la intensidad de aquellas discusiones; sobre lo que se dijo o no.

Al voltear a otro lado mis ojos se abrieron al encontrarme frente a la misma persona, esta hablaba o más bien vociferaba, me había tomado un momento procesar aquel cambio para que sus palabras hicieran sentido. "¿¡Quién va a querer estar con alguien como tú, Stanford!?" su semblante fue como una cachetada que ardió incluso antes de posarse con agravio en mi cara pero no pude musitar tan impactado por el constante recibimiento de información "¡Eres un maldito egoísta!" me apuntaba con acusación mientras proseguía con su alegato. 

Cada sílaba sólo servía para afilar la estaca y al final cuando se clavó en mi corazón miré hacia abajo, al parecer nunca podría escapar de mí. De algo que yo nunca pedí. Entonces supe que mis adentros cuestionaban y mortificaban. El amor es un concepto tan complicado para una mente como yo, he presenciado finitas formas de demostrarlo y parece que no puedo entenderlo por completo, desde mi niñez hasta ahora, sigo pensando que no son más que frivolidades que todo el mundo pretende saber y manejar para luego juzgar a quienes intentan llegar a ella con simpleza.

En muchas ocasiones había sido testigo de sus demostraciones de mi padre hacía Stanley y mucho más consciente cuando eran para mí. Tantas veces escuché las expectativas, sus decepciones o simplemente sus pensamientos sobre nosotros y cada vez yo sentía la necesidad de aliviarlo pero sin dejar de lado a mi hermano, quería ser yo el que fuera lo suficientemente merecedor para que me dejara entrar en su vulnerabilidad y hacerle saber que tal como él me amaba yo lo amaba a él. Sus palabras hirientes… sí dolían, me hacían sentir insuficiente y tenían el mismo efecto en mi hermano pero… supongo que era su manera de demostrar que éramos importantes, que sabía que podíamos ser aún más amables.

Fue así como esta persona desvaneció y ventanas me rodearon para mostrar cientos de otras situaciones, no importaba cuán diferente fueran todas terminaban en desilusión "¿Ves a lo que me refiero?" Bill por fin decidió hacer su presencia de nuevo y con actitud irritada se mantuvo frente a mis ojos sin que las ventanas dejaran de girar a nuestro alrededor "Ellos no te apreciarían, seis dedos. Ellos son los egoístas, los fatuos que no podrían aguantar a alguien tan genuino com tú" con sus manos agrandó una de las ventanas que permanece inmovil para dejar ver la imagen "Incluso antes de mudarte aquí" apareció mi madre, luego mi padre, Stanley y otras personas con las que una vez crucé caminos "Ellos te hacen daño pero esperan que des todo por ellos sin chistar" suspiró "Y es por eso que esto es mejor para ti".

"Me tienes a tu lado, yo he visto lo que los otros no" ahora mudamos al espacio de siempre y me hizo sentar, una taza de té a la mano "Y me siento muy afortunado de que fueras tú quien me llamó y no un científico de pacotilla o algo por el estilo" volteó los ojos y yo solo reí, ajusté mis lentes con pequeño empuje de mi dedo índice y sorbí del líquido "Soy yo el afortunado, Clave. No es una ocurrencia diaria que un ser tan intrigante y sabio decida responder a tu llamado" pensé que la conversación iría a una más amena de inmediato pero Bill sólo me miró "Eres muy importante para mi, Sixer" yo no supe qué hacer o decir por la seriedad con la que lo decía "Te necesito… me encantaría poder estar en tu dimensión para pasar más tiempo contigo, ¿Sabes?" me erguí para poder por fin decir algo hasta que sus risas fueron lo siguiente "Quiero decir, a este punto eres como mi familia y eso es lo que todas esas cursilerías hacen" yo sonreí y asentí divertido a su elección de palabras "¿Tú también me necesitas como yo te necesito, seis dedos?".

"Yo te necesito, Bill".

Años después, parado en la proa con la vista en el extenso mar meditaba aprovechando que el otro Pines descansaba. Las ondas combinadas con sus reflejos inducían a un estado apacible pero persistía una oquedad distinta a las otras. El movimiento le recordaba a pensamientos y debates internos en su peor momento, donde se dejó arrastrar hasta la oscuridad y sufrir en ella.

Si se lanzaba era probable que encontrara el instinto de vivir, apenas si era visible debido a las estrellas que se veían a ellas mismas quietas, la madera bajo sus pies no crujía o parecía reconocerlo, un fantasma en pena que divaga en la gélida noche. Dio un paso más cerca del borde pero no se despojó de nada, el peso serviría. Pero con la mitad de sus pies suspendidos y la otra mitad todavía en el muelle se quedó así. ¿Cuánto tiempo pasó hasta que siquiera su corazón palpitó? Cuando recobró la conciencia se encontraba en su cama sin camiseta o alguna prenda para su torso, unas meras calcetas empapadas la única tela en su cuerpo que no fueran las cobijas que mantenían una temperatura aceptable.

A la mañana siguiente salió de la cabaña y caminó para adentrarse inconscientemente en el bosque, algunas criaturas que ya había estudiado se asomaban con timidez al ver la figura afligida del hombre, que actuaba con la naturaleza de un imán, llegó a una zona dónde los árboles contenían líneas peculiares que no dejaban de seguirle. Murmullos empezaron a saludar y decir insensateces, al tratar de ignorarlo cayó en cuenta del lugar en el que se paraba y se paralizó. Miles de ojos se clisaban en él sin parpadear, no contaban con un iris por lo que lo negro de la pupila lo hacía más tetrico y cómo si le leyeran los pensamientos, los mismos empezaron a manifestarse a lo largo de él hasta que no era más que un cumulo de estos órganos.

Había llegado a considerar sacarse los ojos, el simple hecho de recordar que contaba con esos orbes ocasionaban en su cuerpo las reacciones más desagradables, el rechazo inmediato a objeto parecido de manera metafórica o literal, en cualquier formato de información, al igual que la otra figura geométrica. Lo que antes era un paraíso en su vivienda ahora se comportaba como un infierno. Sus nudillos seguían en proceso de recuperación limitado pero su mente era un augurio incierto. 

O veía sus muñecas que con palidez denotaban algo que había llegado a odiar y pensaba, que tal vez, con la ayuda de algunos instrumentos podía llegar a quitar esas cuerdas de todo su cuerpo, no importa el tiempo o cuán doloroso si significaba que Bill no sería capaz de usarlo nunca más. Qué importaba, si ya era ajeno a cualquier humanidad. Y lo intentó. Su manía por las cosas punzocortantes no era acomedida, si había la posibilidad de estar, estaba, sino; lo hacía a la fuerza. Como aquella vez, una de las tantas veces.

Era un momento como el otro, deambulaba por el bosque, ahora el ardor se flameaba entre las distancias de una flora a otra, la aberrante calma. Su cuerpo se mecía gracias a que los pies hinchados trataban de no sentir su condición además de apulismarse hasta que ya no pudo más y se sentó contra un árbol, se retiró los lentes para frotarse los párpados ya con la impresión de no estar lúcido. Al entreabrirlos asestó que el árbol que se empinaba hasta los cielos ya no lo era, un bloque astillado en su lugar rodeado de otras espinas como repuesto. Se arrodilló antes de ponerse en sus pies y caminar hasta que las puntas de sus zapatos tocaban las raíces liosas y volvió a ponerse de rodillas, sus manos posaron en el filo de este círculo, ¿Cómo es que podía ver con tal detalle si es que seguía sin los lentes puestos?

No había cabida para esa pregunta porque se encorvó y trajo su cara cerca… más cerca…aún más cerca. Repelía por instinto su rostro pero la palabra está ahí, instinto. Alusión macabra cuando el fino tejido no aguantó por mucho y se derramó en la madera hasta que por su anatomía impedía la ruptura, se apartó con complicada moción ya que algunas trataban de seguir en él  y en una distancia ligeramente considerable. Vapuleó. Y el chasqueo no tardó. Paralizado rezumó con más corriente, las espinas se apropiaron de lo demás hasta engullir el último pedazo. 

Abrió los ojos con apuro y refugió su cabeza para comprobar que seguía todo junto para salir de ahí sin espera. Fue solo un sueño.

Pocas interacciones con otras personas empeoraban sus delirios, unos desconocidos mañosos, tontos, faltos de criterio, narcisistas, roñosos… estaba 100% de que apestaban a Clave. Pero no haría evidente aquel ‘conocimiento’, con las manos y codos en la mesa daba la espalda a comensales y trabajadores, sabía que le observaban con esa maldita sonrisa y esos ojos del demonio. Repugnancia al que le tocó el hombro, su izquierda aprisionó la muñeca externa pero lo que vio fue miedo en pupilas normales y un cortocircuito ocurrió dentro de su lógica, el semblante se rugó cuando la mujer empezó a carcajear.

Le consecuentó otra mujer a unas mesas delante, para que como infección todas las caras alargaran. Sin control la suya imitó, el sudor plasmaba el pavor que la experiencia le daba, su derecha enganchó la mitad del rostro. Sus nervios se habían trabado al igual que sus cuerdas vocales con la misma calidad sonora que un fonógrafo. En las ventanas, palmas se azotaban contra esta superficie, sus ojos se movían raudos y en dirección contraria al complemento de su par "Todavía tengo mis ojos sobre ti, Stanford" hablaron al unísono "¡Qué mal que tú no tendrás ninguno!" y unas de las extremidades que golpeaban las ventanas las traspasaron y se abalanzaron contra él, con específico énfasis en estos. Se agachó y jaló de la mujer para poder salir del establecimiento.

¿Fue buena idea haber envíado esa postal? Lo hacía un blanco más fácil, no sabía lo que el supuesto secuaz de Bill podía hacer con tal de dar con él pero si estaba debajo de sus órdenes era sentido común que este ya supiera de su localización. No había manera de saber qué tácticas sería capaz de usar. Incluso podría ya estar en su casa y él no lo sabría.

Él era tan pequeño a su lado, podía caber en la palma de su bidimensional mano y pelar capa milimétrica por capa milimétrica para hacer lo que le diera la gana con la materia prima y los residuos. Goce previo en este momento repulsión por lo sentido. Al girar la manija y que la puerta le diera permiso para entrar todo contenía su esencia, desde los tapetes hasta el dinero que cargaba consigo, casi con el pecho tocando uno de los tapices se arropó e inhaló la intoxicante fragancia, la prensó en sus costillas y empezó a frotar su rostro contra el tejido. Al subir la cabeza ahora se suspendía por sus brazos semi extendidos, miraba el techo y las lágrimas brotaban. Todavía lo necesitaba.

"¡Wow!" Bill giró su bastón mientras seguía viéndome en el espejo "Te queda de lujo, tigre" arqueé las cejas sin dejar de sonreír "¿En serio?"  giré mi cuerpo sin dejar de ver el espejo y ajusté el abrigo "¿Acaso me llamas mentiroso?" produjo sonidos de chasquido y ayudó en acomodar la prenda "Vamos, hombre… prácticamente eres la definición de romántico, Beethoven estaría celoso" esto me dio gracia y repuse mi postura ahora con los dedos ajustando el cuello, tenía que admitir que el traje era bastante refinado y tal como esperaba que un traje de época se sintiera. 

"¿Listo para irnos?" se inclinó y quitó el sombrero que reciproqué con otra inclinación, caminamos hasta llegar al lugar del evento dónde los intelectuales más destacados de todos los tiempos esperaban con cócteles en mano y charlando entre sí. Al entrar tomé una copa y me acerqué a platicar con un grupo pequeño con la compañía de Bill, incluso con la magnitud de la revelación no sentía nervios, es más, estaba seguro de mí y en el fondo no me importaba que opiniones me darían en cuanto la cortina se desprendiera.

Al dar la hora ambos nos pusimos al frente y dimos un discurso, sus chistes no faltaron. Al jalar la cortina y que el portal se pusiera a la vista oí exclamaciones, hubo un silencio hasta que todos empezaron a aplaudir y preguntar su mecanismo mi sonrisa era tan grande que Clave empujó su codo contra mi brazo y sólo nos sonreímos antes de dirigirnos a los demás para responder sus dudas.

Al despertar no esperé para ponerme de pie e ir a trabajar en el portal.

Recuerda cuando su paladar captó el corroído impropio y jaló su labio superior que mostraban su dentadura colorada en el espejo, pasó un dedo para limpiarlos pero no indagó más, convencido de que Bill, al usar su cuerpo se metió en una pelea y que esto era una mezcla de sus fluidos con los de otros. Fueron varias veces que se repitió y que decidió aceptar su explicación. ¿Qué tanto había hecho mientras usaba su cuerpo? Por amor a Dios, las fotografías lo mostraban pero era un pedazo de algo más grande, que cosas tan repulsivas debió de haber sido capaz ese ser.

Durante los 30 años fuera de su dimensión la sed de venganza nunca palideció, al contrario, se volvió más fuerte con cada día que sentía su sangre hervir a cada mención de su nombre. Vivía por eso, tenía qué… para ver el día en que Bill Clave dejara de ser una amenaza para la realidad.

Pero nunca esperó que su derrota se diera en las circunstancias en las que ocurrieron. El ver a su hermano cabizbajo y ahora vacío tal como él solo añadió a sus culpas y aflicciones, ante sus ojos Stanley siempre fue fuerte, decidido y confiado. El otro lado de la moneda.Los días en que toda la familia e incluso Soos o Wendy ayudaban a que Stan recuperara la memoria avanzaban y con eso trataba de recuperar su vida, que ahora sabía que Stanley no le arrebató sino Bill. 

Antes pensaba que debía dar todo para recibir lo mínimo, pero al regresar y obtener perdón… amor… Era difícil aceptarlo al principio pero la noche en que encontró fotografías viejas al igual que videos caseros de su niñez que entre los hermanos volvieron a recordar, algo cambió. 

"No puedo creer que en verdad hicieras eso" se puso la mano en el estómago y rió, Stanley solo cruzó las piernas y los brazos antes de extender los últimos con un intento fallido de parecer molesto ante el comentario "¡Es comedia pura! Un cerebrito como tú no entendería mi desarrollado sentido del humor" aterrizó un golpe en el hombro de su gemelo "Vuelve locas a las nenas", "Oh, no lo dudo, completamente locas" asintió con burla en su manera de hacerlo.

Stan volvió a darle un golpe "Bruto" Ford se sobó antes de devolver el golpe con mayor fuerza, para estar justos "Nerd". Luego de un rato el sueño empezó a llegarles, Ford puso su cabeza en el hombro de su mano mientras las suyas mantenían el tazón en su regazo y al borde de sucumbir a este escuchó "Te quiero, Ford" un largo segundo transcurrió hasta que las palabras salieron de su boca "Yo también te quiero, Stanley". 

La gente podía amarlo por quien era, no por cuan merecedor él podía hacerse de ese cariño.

Seguía con la mirada en el ancho mar recordando los detalles de toda su vida y con esa voz que le decía que aún seguía roto. "¡Ford, los niños nos están llamando!" Stan gritó al otro lado del Stan O’ War II "¡Ahí voy!" así hizo su camino no sin antes detenerse y voltear para volver a ver el mar, con una inhalación del salado aire susurró "No te necesito".

"¡Apúrate, Poindexter o sino te lanzaré por la borda!" el sonido de las gaviotas, empujó sus lentes más arriba y reanudó sus pasos "Hola niños, ¿Cómo están mis sobrinos favoritos?", "¡Tío Ford!"

(FILBRICK ERES UN PENDEJO, UN ESTÚPIDO IDIOTA, PITO FLÁCIDO, NADAQUEVERIENTO, FALTO DE CONEXIONES NEURONALES, MAMA HUEVO, CARCA DE MIERDA, INÚTIL, BUENO PARA NADA, CARA DE ANO, FIFE, FAN DEL TEMACH, OJALÁ TE HAYAS AHOGADO CON TU PROPIA MISERIA VIEJO TONTO)

Stanford Filbrick Pines

Words: 4,524

Summary: He was so small next to him, he could fit in the palm of his two-dimensional hand and peel millimeter layer by millimeter layer to do whatever he wanted with the raw materials and waste. Previous enjoyment, at this moment repulsion for what is felt.

Written Curse: What can I say, saw someone suggesting it on Tiktok and I did it, Descriptions of insanity and more insanity, suicidal behavior, manipulation, paranoia, kind of religious trauma, self-harm (thoughts and action) depictions, and maybe more sensitive topics, please be aware, MDNI. it's kind of different from what I'm used to write in some aspects but I enjoyed iy Seeeeeee yaaaaaa darlings!

Versión original-español

I walked through the mists of a gloomy limbo… If such a vague description makes sense, I paid attention to every step I took but I didn't feel it, almost as if it were a dream until my attention was redirected, something was heard in the distance and I wondered what it could be. It carried with it a sinister air, perverse dyes that dripped phlegmatically, the forbidden, the temptation, the sin that, as its passage, seduced me to approach, thus, little by little, it was not only an unusual song but also a particular smell, a sensation that made one's skin crawl but as everything here was far from comprehending.

Time was distorted and my mind fell into a spiral that I didn't even know I had entered until seeing in a dreary reflection a realization revealed, it was me.

That smell, that sound, everything… It was nothing more than my own body, that empty and rotten container that wanders aimlessly waiting for an end but even if I succumbed to the clutches of mortality, I know that my corpse would be nothing more than poison for this earth that now curses my existence. I beg for mercy even if I am not deserving and as a heretic I receive cruel punishment that lurks in the depths of my being, which from the beginning eats away at me, what led me to this state.

A simple act like the sliding of curtains felt so treacherous, he was turning his back on him and leaving him adrift. He deserves it, after all he did it was absurd that he thought he would receive any defense from him. He placed the reminder of the freshly made wound in the trash and tried to fall asleep but at no time did he blink, the minutes passed ignorantly to his situation and emotions so overwhelming that they seemed to mock without decorum. He had found a motivation that vanished at the same speed with which it arrived, he had to find another goal, a purpose, something that would give him what he had always longed for.

The days passed without anything remarkable, a blind and tired routine between corridors, living rooms and his bedroom with the irregular change of going to the library or chatting with his roommate, with whom he shared certain hobbies. He was about convincing that he enjoyed it, that despite being an unexpected result, he could take advantage of it and prove to himself that others were wrong, that he was better.

When he made the decision to live in Gravity Falls, it was as if that little flame struggled to remain incandescent and wanted to get bigger. It could be taken as an escape from home in a certain way, miles and miles away from his parents which doesn't make much difference from what it was in Backupsmore.

Everything was different, a new life that he would not let anything or anyone spoil. And so it was for quite some time, there was no day or night in which he did not find something fascinating, a distraction and a temporary relief to his thoughts that dejected him the most, but then, like a rose, it began to wither and the petals fell. Leaving a voracious appetite again.

And what happened when the snake approached him? He fell for the deception. So desperate for a shred of recognition, acceptance… And what person could resist a being greater than their own existence? It was an honor to be the favorite of such a sublime presence, a powerful being who did respond to his prayers, to his doubts, where he believed he was walking on the same floor as this one and not below as he was for so many years with his kind, he was finally an equal.

A nosedive into veneration.

The night was paler than the moon itself, its emanations were blunderbussed as they passed through the stained-glass windows with motifs that I distributed with my own free will throughout my cabin. Immersed in my inscriptions, Bill prowled in the same space and chatted about things that I didn't pay enough attention to since I was used to his actions. When I finished my last stroke I placed the pen aside and closed the bottle of ink to let it rest and therefore dry the contents of the page.

"Hey, Sixer" I turned my head and the first thing my eyes met was the triangle reflecting my appearance, I raised my eyebrow until he continued "Look, someone with science of humor" he laughed to return to his color, he snapped his fingers and pointed at me "Did you understand my pun?", "Of course I did, It's a simple enough thing not to" I adjusted my glasses before closing my journal, getting up from my chair and walking over to put it on the shelf next to the other books in my collection.

"You demean yourself a lot, don't you think? Give yourself some credit" he turned around as he moved forward with me, "I do credit myself but I know when things are easy, Bill" I rolled my eyes and left the room, on the stairs he was behind me "That's because you're very intelligent and perceptive, not everyone would have understood it the first time or the second" At these words I smiled but not for much since the day had exhausted me enough to use my muscles. The cabin was as lonely as the day it was finished, on one hand it was reassuring not to have to deal with those noises resulting from annoying habits of other people but on the other hand I couldn't help but feel more lonely… at least I had Bill by my side, even if I got desperate but very rarely. Maybe I should make a statistic about that.

"It's better as you are if you ask me," I heard his voice again but this time I didn't look at him, I went down step by step until I finally reached the floor. "What are you talking about?" I really had no idea, "Nobody deserves you, Ford" that confession intrigued me now in the kitchen where I didn't turn on the light bulb and only opened one of the drawers in the cupboard for a glass. "I mean, just look at you, six fingers; attractive, intelligent, funny, organized. You're out of their league, much better than all of them" he stood in my field of vision and crossed his arms, "And I doubt very much that you would settle for that anyway".

The circumstances that led to such a fatal encounter…

I closed my lips and remained silent, his words like gasoline for thoughts and speculations to nest in my head "We'll never know, they're counterfactual events and hypothetical situations" I drank from the glass I had previously filled with water "Besides, it makes me sound like a narciss-", "Hey, hey, stop your car, friend" Bill pushed and pulled his arms in the space between him and me "I don't say that with those implications, you're very humble Stanford" he moved his body in such a way that it gave the impression of shaking his head, he raised his arms "Everything you're doing will benefit humanity, for me that's not being selfish, quite the opposite" he approached and placed his elbow on my right shoulder.

"What I mean is that you're better off like this" with the open hand of the other arm he pointed at me, moving up and down, to emphasize his point. "You're happier than you could have been" I was still with my eyes on him without speaking "I'll show you" he moved away a little to extend his arm. "You trust me, right?". It was a bit strange to me that Bill used to ask about my trust in him as often as he did, but I always assumed that being someone with his powers was normal, after all it was logical that when he gave me knowledge and his friendship he needed to know that I would not misuse his generosity.

"Of course I do" I took his hand, his eye curled "You can always trust me, Sixer".

The cabin began to crumble and suddenly the environment changed to an impeccable construction that I did not recognize, at least not immediately, laughter and chatter filled my ears while my eyes ventured to get used to the interior, the sound of some open doors made me spin slightly where I saw something that squeezed my heart, in front of seats and more seats there I was, walking on the stage with a toga, I received my title and it was clear. I was graduating from West Coast Institute of Technology.

It was something unreal to see myself in this situation, to see how my face reflected true enthusiasm and happiness at achieving one of my many dreams that I had as a teenager. My parents were there, Stanley was there and his face was a mixture of pride and joy for me; disappointment, loneliness and doubt in those small details. It continued with a family celebration until the scene changed for the second time where I now worked as an inventor in a company of sorts, I knew that time moved forward thanks to the fictitious calendar, which at first filled the Stanford in front of me with motivation, now it filled him wit sadness. It caused him misery as he was limited by his contract, he no longer had time for his own projects or the family with whom he maintained contact.

And everything changed again, I was on Backupsmore and another possibility unfolded, I met someone and we developed feelings for each other and then, we get married? That would be a waste of my research time and even more so as I watched how we both settled in Gravity Falls and then started a small family, with similar results I gradually fell into the same thing: misfortune, sorrow, and suspicion due to the dissatisfaction with the life I was leading. I separated from my spouse to try to have some serenity but nothing, I constantly saw my other self immersed in the memories and torments of his decision, of the intensity of those discussions; about what was said or not said.

When I turned to the other side, my eyes widened when I found myself in front of the same person, they were talking or rather vociferating, it had taken me a moment to process that change so that their words made sense. "Who is going to want to be with someone like you, Stanford!?" Their face was like a slap that burned even before it landed aggrievedly on my face, but I couldn't mutter so shocked by the constant receipt of information "You're a damn selfish man!" they pointed accusation at me while they continued with their argument. Each syllable only served to sharpen the stake and in the end when it stuck in my heart I looked down, it seemed it could never escape me. Something I never asked for.

Then I knew that my insides were questioning and mortifying. Love is such a complicated concept for a mind like me, I have witnessed finite ways to demonstrate it and I can't seem to fully understand it, from my childhood until now, I still think that it is nothing more than frivolities that everyone pretends to know and handle. and then judge those who try to reach it with simplicity.

On many occasions I had witnessed my father's demonstrations towards Stanley and much more aware when they were for me. So many times I heard the expectations, his disappointments or simply his thoughts about us and each time I felt the need to relieve him but without leaving my brother aside, I wanted to be the one who was deserving enough to let me into his vulnerability and let him know that just as he loved me, I loved him. His words...they hurt , they made me feel insufficient and had the same effect on my brother but... I guess it was his way of showing that we were important, that he knew we could be even better.

That's how this person vanished and windows surrounded me to show hundreds of other situations, no matter how different they were, they all ended in disappointment "Do you see what I mean?" Bill finally decided to make his presence again and with an irritated attitude. He stayed in front of my eyes without the windows stopping rotating around us "They wouldn't appreciate you, six fingers. They are the selfish ones, the fatuous ones who couldn't stand someone as genuine as you" with his hands he enlarged one of the windows that remains motionless to show the image "Even before you moved here" my mother appears, then my father, Stanley and other people with whom I once crossed paths "They hurt you but expect you to give everything for them without complaining" he sighs "And that is why this is better for you".

"You have me by your side, I have seen what the others have not" now we moved to the usual space and he made me sit down, a cup of tea in hand "And I feel very lucky that it was you who called me and not a trashy scientist or something like that" he rolled his eye and I just laughed, I adjusted my glasses with a little push of my index finger and sipped the liquid "I'm the lucky one, Cipher. It is not an everyday occurrence that such an intriguing and wise being decides to respond to my call" I thought the conversation would go to a more pleasant one immediately but Bill just looked at me "You are very important to me, Sixer" I didn't know what to do or say, because of the seriousness with which he said it "I need you... I would love to be in your dimension to spend more time with you, you know?" I stood up to finally be able to say something until his laughter was the next thing "I mean, at this point you are like my family and that is what all those corny things do to someone" I smiled and nodded, amused at his choice of words "Do you also need me as much as I need you, six fingers?"

"I need you, Bill".

Years later, standing on the bow looking out over the vast sea, he meditated while the other Pines was resting. The waves combined with their reflections induced a peaceful state but a hollowness different from the others persisted. The movement reminded him of thoughts and internal debates at his worst, where he let himself be dragged into the darkness and suffer in it.

If he jumped, it was likely that he would find the sense to live, he was barely visible due to the stars that saw themselves still, the wood under his feet did not creak or seemed to recognize him, a ghost in pain that wanders in the icy night. He took a step closer to the edge but didn't take anything off, the weight would do. But with half his feet suspended and the other half still on the dock he stayed like that. How long did it take until his heart even beat? When he regained consciousness he was in his bed without a shirt or any clothing for his torso, mere soaked socks the only fabric on his body other than the blankets that maintained an acceptable temperature.

The next morning he left the cabin and walked unconsciously into the forest. Some creatures that he had already studied looked out timidly when they saw the afflicted figure of the man, who acted with the nature of a magnet. He arrived at an area where the trees contained peculiar lines that kept following him. Murmurs began to greet him and say nonsense. When he tried to ignore him, he realized where he was standing and froze. Thousands of eyes stared at him without blinking, they did not have an iris so the blackness of the pupil made him more gloomy and as if they were reading his thoughts, they began to manifest throughout him until he was no longer but a cluster of these organs.

He had come to consider removing his eyes, the simple fact of remembering that he had those orbs caused the most unpleasant reactions in his body, the immediate rejection of a similar object in a metaphorical or literal way, in any information format, just like the other geometric figure. What was once a paradise in their home now behaved like hell. His knuckles were still in limited recovery but his mind was an uncertain omen.

Or he would see his wrists that palely denoted something that he had come to hate and he would think that perhaps, with the help of some instruments he could manage to remove those ropes from his entire body, no matter how long or how painful it meant that Bill would not be able to use him never again. And he tried. What did it matter, if he was already alien to any humanity. His mania for sharp things was not discouraged, if there was the possibility of being there, it was, but; of not, did it by force. Like that time, one of the many times.

It was a moment like the other, he was wandering through the forest, now the ardor flamed between the distances from one flora to another, the aberrant calm. His body rocked because his swollen feet tried not to feel his condition, as well as making himself sick until he couldn't take it anymore and sat down against a tree. He removed his glasses to rub his eyelids with the impression of not being lucid. When he opened them, he realized that the tree in front that reached to the heavens was no longer a tree, a block splintered in its place surrounded by other thorns as a replacement. He knelt before standing on his feet and walking until the tips of his shoes touched the messy roots and he got back on his knees, his hands resting on the edge of this circle, how could he see in such detail without his glasses on?

There was no room for that question because he hunched over and brought his face closer…closer…even closer. His skin instinctively repelled his face but the word is there, instinct. Macabre allusion when the fine fabric did not hold for long and spilled on the wood until its anatomy prevented it from breaking, he moved away with complicated motion as some tried to continue in him, and at a slightly considerable distance. Whipping. And the snap didn't take long. Paralyzed it oozed with more current, the thorns appropriated the rest until they swallowed the last piece.

He hurriedly opened his eyes and sheltered his head to check that everything was still together to get out of there without waiting. It was just a dream.

Few interactions with other people made his delusions worse, strangers who were crafty, stupid, lacking in judgment, narcissistic, filthy... he was 100% sure that they reeked of Cipher. But he would not make that 'knowledge' evident, with his hands and elbows on the table he turned his back to the costumers and workers, he knew that they were watching him with that damned smile and those devilish eyes. Disgust to the one who touched his shoulder, his left imprisoned the outer wrist but what he saw was fear in normal pupils and a short circuit occurred within his logic, his face became grim when the woman began to laugh.

Another woman followed a few tables in front, so that like an infection all the faces would lengthen. Without control he imitated, the sweat reflected the terror that the experience gave him, his right hooked half of his face. His nerves had jammed as well as his vocal cords with the same sound quality as a phonograph. At the windows, palms slapped against this surface, their eyes moved quickly and in the opposite direction to the complement of their pair "I still have my eyes on ya, Stanford" they spoke in unison "Too bad you won't have any!" and some of the limbs that were hitting the windows passed through them and lunged at him, with specific emphasis on his eyes. He bent down and pulled the woman so he could leave the establishment.

Was it a good idea to have sent that postcard? It made him an easier target, he didn't know what Bill's supposed henchman could do to find him but if he was under his orders it was common sense that he already knew his location. There was no way to know what tactics he would be able to use. It could even already be at his house and he wouldn't know it.

He was so small next to him, he could fit in the palm of his two-dimensional hand and peel millimeter layer by millimeter layer to do whatever he wanted with the raw materials and waste. Previous enjoyment, at this moment repulsion for what is felt. When he turned the handle and the door gave him permission to enter, everything contained his essence, from the rugs to the money he carried with him. With his chest almost touching one of the tapestries, he wrapped himself up and inhaled the intoxicating fragrance, pressing it to his ribs. and began to rub his face against the fabric. As he raised his head, it was now suspended by his semi-extended arms, he looked at the ceiling and tears flowed. He still needed him.

"Wow" Bill spined his cane while he continued to see me in the mirror "It looks great on you, tiger" I arched my eyebrows without stopping smiling "Really?" I turned my body while taking my eyes off the mirror and adjusted my coat "Do you call me a liar?" he made clicking sounds and helped to adjust the garment "Come on, man…you're pretty much the definition of romantic, Beethoven would be jealous" this made me laugh and I restated my posture now with my fingers adjusting my neck, I had to admit that the costume was quite refined and just as I expected a period costume to feel.

"Ready to go?" he bowed and took off his hat that I reciprocated with another bow, we walked until we reached the place of the event where the most outstanding intellectuals of all time waited with cocktails in hand and chatting with each other. When I entered I had a drink and went to talk to a small group with Bill's company, even with the magnitude of the revelation I did not feel nervous, in fact, I was sure of myself and deep down I did not care what opinions they would give me as soon as the curtain came off.

When the time struck we both took the lead and gave a speech, his jokes were not lacking. When I pulled the curtain and the portal was in sight I heard exclamations, there was a silence until everyone began to applaud and ask its mechanism, my smile was so big that Cipher pushed his elbow against my arm and we only smiled before addressing the others to answer their questions.

When I woke up I didn't wait to stand up and go to work in the portal.

He remembers when his palate caught the improper corroded and pulled his upper lip that showed his red teeth in the mirror, he ran a finger to clean them but did not investigate further, convinced that Bill, by using his body got into a fight and that this was a mixture of his fluids with those of others. There were several times that it was repeated and that he decided to accept his explanation. How much had he done while using his body? For God's sake, the photographs showed him but he was a piece of something bigger, what repulsive things that being must have been capable of.

During the 30 years out of his dimension the thirst for revenge never paled, on the contrary, it grew stronger with each day that he felt his blood boil at every mention of his name. He lived for that, he had to… to see the day when Bill Cipher ceased to be a threat to reality.

But he never expected his defeat to happen in the circumstances in which they occurred. Seeing his brother with his head down and now empty as him, added to his guilt and afflictions, Stanley was always strong, determined and confident in his eyes. The other side of the coin.

The days went as the whole family and even Soos or Wendy helped Stan regain his memory and with that he tried to get his life back, which he now knew Stanley didn't take from him but Bill.

He used to think that he had to give everything to receive the minimum, but when he returned and got forgiveness… love… It was difficult to accept it at first but the night he found old photographs as well as home videos from his childhood that the brothers reminisced about, something changed.

"I can't believe you actually did that," he put his hand on his stomach and laughed, Stanley only crossed his legs and arms before extending his last ones with a failed attempt to look annoyed at the comment "It's pure comedy! A brainiac like you wouldn't understand my developed sense of humor" a blow landed on his twin's shoulder. "It drives ladies crazy" "Oh, I don't doubt it, completely crazy," he nodded mockingly in his way of doing it.

Stan hit him again "Idiot" Ford rubbed himself before returning the blow with greater force, to be fair "Nerd". After a while sleep began to come to them, Ford put his head on the shoulder of his hand while his held the bowl on his lap, and on the verge of succumbing to it he heard "I love you, Ford" a long second passed until the words came out of his mouth "I love you too, Stanley."

People could love him for who he was, not for how deserving he could get that affection.

He continued with his eyes on the wide sea remembering the details of his whole life and with that voice that told him that he was still broken. "Ford, the children are calling us!-- Stan shouted on the other side of the Stan O' War II, "Coming!" so he made his way, but not before stopping and turning to see the sea again, with an inhalation of the salty air he whispered, "I don't need you."

"Hurry up, Poindexter or else I'll throw you overboard" the sound of the seagulls, he pushed his glasses higher and resumed his steps. "Greetings children, how are my favorite kids of all dimensions?", "Uncle Ford!".

I wasn't happy with how I drew Ford last time so I drew him more lol