Stanley as like the fae kid that was supposed to be swapped with Ford but their mom saw Stanley and was like, "My kid now" and fought tooth and nail to keep BOTH of them.
The twins growing up excluded and estranged from the rest of the community but Ford gets treated better by school staff because he's the "brainiac" of the two.
Ford may be book smart, but Stan is NATURE SMART. He sees the little tingles of magic in the air, can smell the earth and it's inhabitants, can will nature to do one thing or another for him- he always has flowers to give to his mother, hand-grown by him somewhere in secret that even his twin brother doesn't know about. He's always got that calling that tells him that he should walk barefoot in the dirt, call to the birds in birdsong (he thinks to himself that it isn't possible, but instinct tells him otherwise), speak to the plants and trees tenderly, gently. Because they hear him, and they know him.
He's loved (as loved as he can be, at least), but he is lost. He doesn't feel like he should be there, that he should even stay there. He ignores this, but that feeling persists even after he's thrown out of the house. It persists when he's in the city, when he's on the run all the time from everyone. The only time the hurt is soothed is when one time, he lays down on the dirt ground underneath a tree because he has no money to pay for a hotel room, and it's the safest he's ever felt.
So imagine he gets called to Gravity Falls by his brother and- oh. Oh.
The trees, the critters, the creatures. They welcome him, they speak to him, they approach him- not in that angry way people do sometimes, but also not in the way people will sometimes look at him with a certain level of dazed relaxation brought about by his fae nature. No, they look at him like he was one of them- like he's home.
And something inside of him sings because this is right, this feels right. He's home, like he'd never been before.
