It was supposed to be a joke. The Gravity Falls Annual Fair was packed with ridiculous booths — one of them a “Fake Wedding Chapel” run by a suspiciously enthusiastic old man.

Stan, ever the showman, nudged you toward it with a sly grin.

—"Come on, kid, it'll be hilarious. We'll get fake-married, take a dumb photo, laugh about it later."

You rolled your eyes but agreed, mostly because seeing Stan this excited was rare and, honestly, kind of adorable.

The ceremony was ridiculous. Plastic flowers, a crooked archway, a velvet robe worn by the "officiant." Stan hammed it up, slipping a candy ring onto your finger while making exaggerated vows about sharing his fortune (meaning, his collection of novelty coins).

Everyone clapped, laughed, cheered. Stan winked at you.

—"See? Harmless fun."

At least... until the "officiant" cleared his throat and pulled out an official-looking document.

—"By the power vested in me by the state of Oregon, I now declare you a married couple!"

The fair went silent.

Stan blinked. You blinked.

—"Wait... WAIT," Stan barked, pointing a shaky finger. "You're supposed to be fake!"

The man shrugged.

—"Real license, real vows, real marriage. Congratulations, kids."

Mabel screamed in excitement somewhere in the background. Dipper dropped his soda. Soos shouted "AWESOME!" at the top of his lungs.

Stan turned to you, pale, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

—"Well... uh... guess you're stuck with me, sweetheart."