Introducing: The Stanford Font

I'm gonna explain how I see the Stan twins romantic orientations/sexualities (but mostly romantic orientations) for a moment so bear with me here. Ramble incoming!

So a pretty...I want to say common...? headcannon/interpretation for Stanford Pines is that he is aromantic, aroace, asexual and the like. And while I can and do respect that headcanon it isn't my personal interpretation of his character and here's why:

So first of all I will admit that I do ship Ford with Bill and Fiddleford and yes, guilty as charged I am less likely to adopt an aspec headcanon of him due to that but there are other reasons and I'm going to explain but first: the character that I do consider to be aromantic: Stan Pines.

"But wait!" You ask "What about lazy Susan and Carla Mccorkle?" Ah, you see there's where the arospec identity lithromantic comes in!

Lithromantic is when you do experience romantic attraction but have no desire for it to be reciprocated. Feelings may vanish after they are reciprocated. Familiar?

So first of all, sick ass aromantic headcanon for awesome character that makes sense. Second of all, how it would fit in with his character and trauma and the like.

Stan Pines is known as Mr Mystery. But he knows himself as more like Mr. Scewup. Maybe not the best analogy I could have applied there but it gets the point across. Due to all the people in his life and the recurring narrative he has unfortunately slipped into, he sees himself fail over and over.

And that's why I feel like it's a great thing for the character. As you probably know, romantic relationships are seen as the greatest thing ever and that everyone should pursue them. Lack of a romantic relationship beyond a certain age is seen as sad for some reason.

So Stan with this romantic attraction he does feel gets stuck in starting relationships and never following through, trying to pursue this thing that's for some reason seen as just basic humanity and failing and failing and failing which goes along nicely with his already existing life story, the aromantic seasoning on the top of the shit show.

Why can't he just follow through? Why can't he just commit? Why does everyone leave him and why is it always his fault? No, no it's just that he hasn't found his big break yet, you'll see, you'll all see!

Meanwhile his twin brother Ford is facing the same commitment problem except orange, in a different flavour and baked in a different gelatin mould. Goddammit that's a second, more weird analogy.

You see I feel like he deals with some good old internalised homophobia.

Concerning Fiddleford Mcgucket- Bill Cipher too but he comes later.

You see Ford has always had something to hide from prying, judging eyes. His abnormal, ultimately harmless six fingered hands.

Fiddleford he's known since University (I'm Australian goddammit it's uni, it's university IT'S UNIVERSITY) And that's after he's already lost his best friend. He doesn't want to blow it.

And then his best friend and gay crush gets married. Yeah that's fine. That's what a respectable man does after all. Yeah. He's not jealous why would he be jealous at all he isn't at all jealous!! So he does what any sane man would do and call up his bestie to join his emo band- uh, make a giant transpolydimensionalwhateverthefuck in his basement. In his shack in the woods. Alone. Together. Great.

In my personal interpretation they didn't have an established romantic relationship. They were gay for each other, sure. They both wanted to be together, sure- but Fiddleford's married status and internalised homophobia and Stanford's unwillingness to lose his best friend AGAIN and internalised homophobia prevented them from actually entering a relationship. Also it was the 80s. And it really does fit in with the themes of Gravity Falls if you think about it, all these themes of being true to yourself and outside judgement and societal pressure and whatnot.

And so they are close, SO FUCKING CLOSE to having what they want because they have this weird alloromantic urge to be in a relationship with the person or whatever but they can't say it.

And then Bill Cipher comes along,

Bill Cipher presents himself as "safe". Oh Fordsy, you're so smart, Fordsy they were all wrong for bullying you and surpressing your genius, Sixer I'm so glad that dumb brother is out of the way so you can unlock your true potential, Fordsy I don't like your lab partner he's getting in the way, Sixer you're safe here, I'm a muse outside of societal structure and I'm an alien anyway, plus it's only in the mindscape we can do whatever you want- you see what I'm saying?

He's "safe".

So he pushes his friends away, tears himself up working on the portal and lets himself get manipulated because he's in love with him! And as the living tombstone said "Love is blind when you are staring at the sun"

And then Fiddleford leaves.

Fiddleford leaves, meaning that once again everything he's worked for is gone, once again a loved one is gone, once again Bill was right, they'll just all leave you in the end, all you need is good ol' reliable Bill Cipher!

And it all comes back to a child holding his six-fingered hands behind his back in case the bullies came.

(Gasp for air) SO!!! In conclusion, as well as mlm headcanons being a great potential for angst and kicking ass, aromantic headcanons also have a great potential for angst and kick ass!

Also I could headcanon Ford as some kind of aspec identity, go suggest something, go nuts! It's like 3am for me tho so..........I'm going to....go....now. BUH-BYE!!!!!!!

........is this even coherent?

I remember that day when we arrived at the beach—it was already too late. Everyone had left, leaving behind only the remnants of fireworks scattered across the sand. Colorful confetti, soaked by the sea, made the advertising print on them nearly illegible. Among shards of broken colored glass and seaweed, you found an already opened condom wrapper in the muck and excitedly pointed it out to me, while I felt nothing but disgust.

At the time, I didn’t love this filthy backyard excuse for a scenic spot. I hated how dull, backward, and utterly empty it was. I especially despised how other small-town residents saw it as some romantic haven, drawing teenagers who wandered the damp sand like pilgrims. They’d come meticulously dressed, as if convinced their destined love would emerge from the sea, birthed into the arms of a lonely soul like a newborn from its mother’s amniotic fluid. But this was the 1970s—the moon was already covered in steel machines. Even Venus ought to emerge from a delivery room by now. The beach was no place for romantic miracles.

You nudged me and told me to take off my shoes. I didn’t. You burst into laughter and, with no regard for the risk of being cut by glass, walked barefoot onto the damp sand. I watched your feet, but you didn’t step on anything—not glass, not anything else. You kept walking into the sea, farther and farther, fading into the growing darkness. Soon, I could barely make out your figure in the vast, dark ocean. Then you stopped, raised your arms, and shouted toward the opposite shore, your voice swallowed at the edges by the white noise of the waves. You sounded happy.

When you came back, you said, disappointed, that you hadn’t expected everyone else to leave so early. You strained your eyes toward the other side but saw nothing—not even the lights of New York. Because it’s already four in the morning, I said, swallowing the second half of my sentence. We were late because I wouldn’t leave the house until I finished an assignment I was deeply invested in at the time. You never interrupted my studies.

We leaned against the car, watching sparks crawl along the fuses of the fireworks you’d set up, and you cracked open a can of beer. I declined when you offered me one, immediately regretting it. The fuse took far too long to ignite the firework. I had nothing to do but look around and again caught sight of the torn condom wrapper. Not long ago, someone had made love here, I thought. Then you moved.

We were standing so close that I could feel your body heat in the gaps between the sea breeze. Someone had made love here, right on this beach, and now we stood on the very same sand where they had.

The firework exploded—yellow and orange. You shouted in excitement, but I was lost in thoughts of what happens when people make love. They take off their clothes. They touch each other. They whisper sweet words. Smoke rolled up from the firework casing as I turned to look at your face, bathed in orange-red light. Then, with a jolt of horror, I realized that lovers also kiss on this beach.

As the yellow sparks faded, they turned the color of calcium chloride. The purple ones, I thought, must be from strontium salts and copper chloride. These burning metal salts streaked through the air, their brilliant colors dyeing the smoke that trailed behind them. I tilted my head and lowered my gaze, pretending to examine the firework casing but really sneaking glances at your face from the corner of my eye, trying to study the shape of human lips.

Kissing. I thought about the word. I didn’t know how to French kiss, but at that moment, I knew nothing could stop me from leaning forward and pressing my lips to yours. A chill ran down my spine.

I asked myself why I would think such a thing, but a more terrifying voice asked why I wouldn’t. Maybe it was a kind of high-place phenomenon, like wondering whether touching the firework would hurt. I wanted to know what it felt like to jump from a great height, to drink sulfuric acid, to press a blade hard enough to slice my finger open, to walk into the sea and let myself be submerged. I wanted to know what would happen if I kissed you. It was all just idle thoughts, but in that moment, I felt dizzy, hyperaware of every part of my body as though I might forget to breathe if I didn’t focus.

I started to feel trapped inside my own small body. I thought I saw you glance at me, and I was terrified you might know. I was even more terrified that you didn’t, because that would mean we weren’t close enough.

I wondered what excuses I could use if I did it, and that thought pained me because I wanted to be honest with you. Sitting beside you on that New Year’s night, watching the fireworks turn purple, all I could think about was how intensely I felt that if I didn’t kiss you at that moment I might die,I would never have another chance. Summoning all my courage, I finally turned to look at you, overwhelmed by thoughts and realizing I might start vomiting if I didn’t speak. Just then, you turned to look at me too. In your eyes, I saw the reflection of the fireworks.

You said, “After we finish the fireworks, can we go to my friend’s house and watch a movie? There’ll be a bunch of people—it’ll be fun.”

I said, “Sure.”

We finished setting off all the fireworks we had. It was fun. We even tried to use the fireworks to light the surface of the sea. On the way back, we saw other people—they had just gone elsewhere to hang out. You stroked the steering wheel, musing about how great the car’s engine was, and that was the first time in my life I felt shame.

SORRY FOE THE DUMP IM CATCHING UP ITS BEEN A HOT MINUTE

Original source: my mates playing with their dollies

ship discourse is unserious but the "who would treat fiddleford better" arguments on tumblr are crazy to me because have we all forgotten nuance? anyways here's a relationship analysis:

fiddauthor has its own unhealthy aspects because ford not only tunnel-visioned on his research to the point of dismissing fiddleford, he was also being actively isolated by his abuser (bill), who was turning the two against each other. and, at the same time, fiddleford was actively lying to ford about the memory gun, then used it on ford, a complete violation of trust. in alex hirsch's own words, fiddleford was like a yes-man to ford (until he wasnt), to the detriment of both of them.

but also they found solace in each other, as two outcasts with similar interests. even if ford could be dismissive at times with his gifts, its so clear that he valued fiddleford as his one friend, that they found so much enjoyment in each other's company in both college and in gravity falls. and ignoring that is doing them both a disservice! none of the hurt they inflicted on each other was done out of malice; they were being slowly broken down by the environment around them.

fiddlestan is more difficult to dissect for obvious reasons but comparing stan's past failed relationships to a hypothetical one with fiddleford is a moot point. we're working with a vastly different scenario here. stan would need fiddleford to stay in his desperation to save ford, and fiddleford could be easily guilt-tripped despite his trauma. would stan be an asshole to fiddleford? yeah, he would probably grow impatient with fiddleford's anxiety, and they would have very clashing personalities and interests, along with bad trust issues. fiddleford would be very reliant on the memory gun at this point, and they both would be at their mental lowest: it would not be an easy or healthy relationship.

but at the same time, it's not difficult to see how two very broken people could find solace in each other, especially due to a shared grief. its a unique situation that only they could understand, so of course it would make sense that fiddleford's desire to fix vs stan's abandonment issues would lead to something, for better or for worse. at the end of the day, they both understand the broken bonds of family and they both want to feel needed. it's not farfetched to speculate that they'd find comfort in each other.

anyways. i love these three very flawed, very hurt, and very human individuals. i think they're capable of causing each other a lot of pain. they do cause each other a lot of pain. but also they grow and they heal, and it pains me to see people reduce them to their singular actions. (but also the jokes are funny so yknow...i get it carry on)

helping out a friend make a gravity falls dating sim!

- game creator @zombifedphantomdamion + his post with more info about the game

- logo by @call-me-clevy

(have the sketches too cause i think they're cute <3)

note to self: write a fic outline later for Accidental Pinecest AU so you can write it after finishing s2

tl;dr dipper disguises himself for an investigation of a monster & mabel gets a new Summer Romance without realizing her mysterious crush is her own brother this time. dipper is panicking the whole time but can't find it within himself to clear the misunderstanding when mabel is so happy

i only have the energy to color somthing once a month it seems 😭😭

contrast of stan not really getting along with his brother's best friend vs ford not really getting along with his brother's son.....

and the irony of those two becoming good friends

i'm giving my twt a break from discourse so i'm putting it here: people who are like "UMMMM what does stan have to do w billford????" are either acting deliberately dense bc they hate stancest or they have zero media literacy lol.

ford fucked a dude that canonically parallels his twin brother. THAT'S what stan has to do w billford. and again, i say "canonically" bc it's obvious that their parallels were DELIBERATE. this isn't a case of just like, looking too deeply into things or w/e. the "same coin" theory exists for a reason, and although i don't personally believe in it, it's one of the most popular theories in the entire fandom specifically BECAUSE of stan & bill's blatant similarities.

i already wrote a whole damn novel about it, so i won't repeat myself too much, but i'll just say that believing with your whole chest that stan had NOTHING to do with ford & bill's partnership is actually insane lol.

ford subconsciously missing his brother and projecting his desire to reconcile with him onto bill, as well as bill PURPOSELY stealing stan's childhood nickname for him ("sixer") and copying many of his mannerisms in order to more easily manipulate ford are literally the foundation on which their relationship was built. stan's influence is present in their VERY FIRST MEETING when bill calls ford "sixer." c'mon now. even if you don't ship stancest, the link between stan & billford is undeniable.

the most important thing when i write dipper and mabel is to understand that they are not stan and ford.

that's not to say that there aren't similarities. obviously, the twins have dynamics that can be compared to each other in a myriad of ways, both separately and together.

but it's so very vital that dipper is NOT a 1:1 ford. and mabel is NOT a 1:1 stan.

dipper has ford's love of rationality and mysteries, but he has stan's love of stories and family. mabel has stan's pure chaos, but ford's pre-bill trust in people.

dipper and stan both approach the world with cynicism. young ford and mabel approach the world with wonder.

stan was the twin worried about being left behind, just like mabel. ford and dipper both wanted to carve a path for themselves and their future.

mabel was so scared of losing her brother that she accidentally caused weirdmaggedon, just like stan was worried about losing ford that he accidentally sabatoged ford's science project/collegiate future. but dipper was the one who fought like hell mostly by himself in the apocalypse for three days to get her back, just like stan worked for thirty years to save ford. there is nothing dipper wouldn't sacrifice for mabel.

in my humble opinion, this is why the pines family dynamic is so damn compelling. they aren't carbon copies because that's not how people work. there is a sincerity, an honesty, a relatability between all of these characters and their flaws.

mabel and dipper aren't just the younger version of their grunkles. they are a crazy mishmash of the best and worst traits swapped around and punted to the moon and back.

exploring each micro-dynamic is so fascinating. i love this weird little family.