Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The blistering heat of the summer eve was broken only by the slightest breeze and Dipper Pines was a man on a mission.

Well, he’s not quite a man. He is only 17 years old, so technically still a teenager.

Dipper was packing a bag with supplies so he could go out on a paranormal investigation out in the woods. The contents of his bag consisted of a couple of torches, some spare batteries, a water bottle and a blue journal with a golden pine tree shaped symbol sewn onto the front cover. He was dressed in a navy blue flannel shirt that was unbuttoned to show his favourite light grey t-shirt with a “Ghost Harassers” logo, a pair of black cargo jeans and a pair of practical brown boots with minor scrapes and small dirt stains.
But then he got interrupted as he made it down the stairs.

“Hey Dipper, whatcha doing?” asked his twin sister Mabel who was wearing one of normal colourful sweaters with a picture of a duck wearing a detective hat just leaving the kitchen with a tray full of snacks. “Did you want to watch the new season of “Ducktective” with us?” gesturing towards the living room where their Grunkles Stan and Ford were sat in front of the TV.

“Um, I was actually going into the forest to investigate a possible paranormal reading” said Dipper in an awkward manner as he tried to head towards front door.

“Paranormal reading?” asked Ford as he got up off the sofa and walked into the hallway joining the twins. “Surely I would’ve heard about that” he said as he pulled a paranormal scanner taht was attached to his belt and readjusted his glasses as he looked at the small device.

“Did you want us to come with?” asked Mabel. “If it’s something dangerous, wouldn’t it be easy to have back up just in case?” She says approaching her twin brother.

“It’s just a quick check up, that’s all” says Dipper nervously backing away as he feels sweat dripping from his forehead.

“And, why are you dressed quite fancy if it’s just for a simple check up?” She asks inspecting the outfit that Dipper is wearing. “You even combed your hair and is that deodorant I smell?” She asks in a slightly more teasing tone.

“Oh, so now I’m not allowed to make a little effort with my appearance for a simple errand?” Dipper quickly responds in a slightly defensive but still awkward tone.

“Look, if Dipper says this just a quick check up, maybe we should just let him check it out?” Asks Stan, who got up and eventually joined everyone in the hallway. “He handled himself well during the apocalypse before he was a teenager. I’m sure he’ll be okay by himself”.

“Thanks Grunkle Stan” says Dipper with a small smile on his face.

“Just promise that you won’t be back too late and don’t bring back a stray gnome or something” says Stan.

“And if it’s something really dangerous, please just let us know Dipper” said Ford in a concerned manner as he put his six fingered hand on Dipper’s shoulder.

“Okay guys, I definitely will” says Dipper as he exits the front door to the Shack, while Mabel, Stan and Ford continue to stand in the hallway processing what had just happened.

“He’s definitely hiding something” says Stan bluntly.

“Oh, absolutely” said Mabel.

Chapter Text

Dipper was relieved to finally get out of the Mystery Shack as he begun trekking in the woods. He looked at all of the nature that surrounded him from the dormant old trees that were dripping with sap to the younger plants that were still bristling with potential and suddenly his brain developed a feeling of peace. For him, the woods in Gravity Falls was almost like a third home.

As the sun began to settle down for the night, Dipper kept walking through the wood until he noticed a figure waiting by a pine tree.

Pacifica Northwest. The heiress to the Northwest family fortune. She was dressed in a outfit that could be considered fashionable yet also adventurously practical that consisted of a light purple jacket, a beige knitted jumper, black leggings and a pair of brown. combat boots, while her long blonde was styled in a neatly put together braid and in her hand was a brown basket.

“You took your time, nerd” says Pacifica bluntly as she approaches Dipper.

“Traffic in the middle of the woods was a serious nightmare” replies Dipper with the same tone of bluntness.

The pregnant silence ended when the two of them suddenly broke into laughter.

As their laughter died down, Pacifica practically leapt into Dipper’s arms where they both embraced each other.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week Paz” said Dipper as he let go of Pacifica and took a step back. “You look great, as always”.

“I know Dipper” said Pacifica as a small blush formed on her face. “So, we heading to usual spot this time?” she asked as she put her hand out.

“Yeah” said Dipper with a small smile on his face as rested his hand onto Pacifica’s.

The two of them continued walking through the woods as they continued their conversation.

“Sorry for being late by the way” explains Dipper. “I got held up by Mabel and my Grunkles as I was leaving and I had to come up with an excuse for me leaving the Shack”

“Hey, that’s totally fine” said Pacifica in an understanding tone. “We’re still doing the right thing about keeping us a secret?”

“Yeah” said Dipper. “Because let’s face it, we won’t ever be prepared for what Mabel will be like if she finds out that we’re a couple”.

They continued walking throughout the woods and engaging in small talk, until they approached a hillside that constantly looks like its untouched by life, even from the fantastical creatures that reside in the woods of this town such as the gnomes, the Multi-Bear or even the Manotaurs.

They approached their destination. A cliffside that overlooked the whole town of Gravity Falls.

“I’m never gonna get tired of this view” said Pacifica.

“If more people got to experience this view, I feel like they’d gain more of an appreciation of this town” said Dipper.

The two of them then make themselves comfortable on a log that was laying on the ground, which still gave them the best possible view of the town.

Pacifica opens up the basket she was carrying and pulled out a board with a selection of different types of cheeses, a box of cream crackers, a cheese knife, a bottle of Pitt Soda and two champagne glasses.

“Won’t your parents realise that this stuff is missing from their fridge?” asks Dipper with curiosity.

“They’ve never set foot in the kitchen at the mansion” said Pacifica as she began filling the glasses up with soda. “They’ll never know it’s missing”.

Dipper and Pacifica spent the rest of the evening lost in their conversations about a range of topics such as all of Dipper’s latest paranormal studies, Pacifica’s desire to distance herself from the pressures of high society and both of their anxieties about entering their final year of high school, and eating all the different cheeses and crackers in-between their conversations. They felt comfortable, confident and open with each other when they were together.

After they finished their food and the light of the moon filled the sky, Pacifica reached her hand back into the basket and pulled out a small item. Dipper looked back at his girlfriend with curiosity.

“I actually got you a little gift” said Pacifica as she pulled out a small white box and placed it in Dipper’s hand.

“Wow, Pacifica” responds Dipper. “You really shouldn’t have. I really can’t accept this”.

“Mason” Pacifica responded. “Please, I insist”

Dipper felt his heart melt when Pacifica used his real name as opposed to his nickname. He had no choice, but to accept the gift at that point. He opens the box to see that it contained a silver necklace with two charms attached to it: a llama and a pine tree. He looked at the piece of jewellery with awe.

“This is really beautiful” said Dipper. “Just like the girl who gave this to me.

“You’re such a dork” said Pacifica with a small chuckle. She then takes the necklace out of the box and puts it around Dipper’s neck. “It’s so it feels like you’ll have a piece of me right next to your heart.”

“I actually feel bad I didn’t get you anything now” said Dipper looking down at the grass. But then a look of realisation hit his face. “Unless...”

Dipper started rummaging through his bag and pulled out his journal. He started flicking through the pages until he stopped on a page and ripped it straight from the margins. He placed the piece of paper in Pacifica’s hand. She looked at the paper with the same awe that he had when he first laid eyes on the necklace.

It was a hand drawn picture of Pacifica’s side profile. It captured every detail that Dipper has admired about her beauty from the kindness in her eyes to the

“Dipper. This is incredible” said Pacifica with a small tear forming in her eyes. “This is more special than any portrait of me hanging up back at the mansion”. She then carefully folds the sketch up and gently places it into her jacket pocket.

Dipper then got his phone out of his pocket and proceeded to put his arm over Pacifica’s shoulder and proceeded to take multiple selfies with different expressions.

Dipper was about to put his phone away as they both broke into laughter over what they did. But he noticed something on his phone screen.

22:34pm.

“Oh crap” said Dipper with realisation as he looked at the time. “Look at the time”.

“Oh my god” said Pacifica as she looked back at Dipper’s phone with wide eye shock.

They were both lost in each other’s company to the point where they both lost track of the time.

“I need to get back home before my parents realise I’m not at home” Pacifica said as she began quickly packing up the cheese board, empty glasses and the half finished bottle of soda.

“Just one more thing” said Dipper as he put his hand out helping Pacifica onto her feet.

The two of them shared a kiss. As they kissed, the sky around them began to fill with fireflies, dancing in the air around them. This wasn’t the first time they’ve kissed, but every time they do it feels like it’s just the two of them that exist in the world.

“I love you Dipper” said Pacifica.

“I know” said Dipper.

They both proceeded to leave their spot overlooking the whole town before stopping at the pine tree where they met up earlier in the evening. They then gave each other a hug

“Let me know if you get back safely” said Dipper as he lets go of Pacifica as he began walking in the direction towards the Mystery Shack.

“I will” said Pacifica as she heads in the direction of her family’s mansion.

Despite Dipper and Pacifica going their separate ways, they both were thinking the same thing.

They both wanted the evening they just had to last forever.

Chapter Text

Pacifica had been lying on her bed staring at the ceiling ever since she got home from her evening out with Dipper. The lavish decor of Northwest Mansion surrounded her like a gilded cage. The light from her lamp cast warm shadows on the wall, but even that wasn’t enough to distract her from the two questions that remained on her mind.

How did she fall in love with someone like Dipper Pines and what did she even do to deserve to be loved by him?

She recalled the girl that she used to be. Arrogant. Shallow. Another link in the world’s worst chain. If it wasn’t for her parent’s influence,

But that all changed five summers ago when Dipper Pines came to Gravity Falls accidentally fell into her life.

Pacifica took the sketch that Dipper gave her from her jacket pocket. She smiled at it. A smile formed on her face as she began to reflect on how her initial friendship with Dipper blossomed into something more.

In 2012, she was tasked by her parents to hire Dipper to perform an exorcism on the ghost that was haunting her family’s manor before a big family party. She didn’t know that the Ghost was haunting the mansion because of a curse that was placed on her family and that only someone with her family name would’ve been able to lift the curse by letting people into . The sight of all the guests turning into wood was burnt into her mind, particularly the scared and panicked expression on Dipper’s face as he succumbed to his wooden cacoon. Despite her parent’s protests, she opened the gate to the manor and was able to release her family name from the spectral curse. Despite this, her parents remained arrogant and shallow, but she came out of this experience a changed girl and constantly had Dipper’s words that boosted her confidence on her mind.

"Just because you’re your parents’ daughter doesn’t mean you have to be like them. It’s not too late”.

*Following the conclusion of Weirdmageddon at the end of that same summer, she found out that her father Preston blew all of the family fortune to gain favour with psychopathic demon Bill Cipher, the mastermind behind the madness. Her family had to downgrade from Northwest manor to Northwest Mansion. Her parents claimed there was a difference between a manor and a mansion, it was still just a big house to her at the end of the day. Despite her initial shock, she was shockingly relieved by this change in her life. She thought that this would help to humble her parents. She was wrong. Her parents had been colder and more money driven ever since and eventually became even more distant from her compared to before. Since then, she had to force herself to become more independent and self reliant. Despite this, she continued to grow lonelier and wishing for some excitement in her life.

In 2013, she was surprised when Dipper asked her of all people if she wanted to join him on a ghost hunt in the woods and she accepted his offer without question. When she asked why he even thought of asking her instead of asking someone from Mystery Shack crew that he spent more time with the previous summer. Dipper explained it was because they were all busy with other responsibilities and based on what happened with the Lumberjack Ghost at Northwest Manor last summer, he would feel safer going on this investigation with someone else who had experience with a ghost. The ghost hunt went as well as expected, but that’s a story for another day(?). It was what happened after the hunt that stuck with her when Dipper displayed a level of vulnerability that she didn’t expect from the boy who faced Bill and lived to tell the tale. He opened up to her about how different this summer had felt compared to last year, he mentioned that Mabel seemed to be spending as much time with her friends before the summers end, Soos was busy running the Mystery Shack, Wendy was away at a lumberjack retreat as she had taken a sudden interest in taking over her dad’s business one day and his Great Uncles were often called away on their own missions dealing with paranormal investigations across the globe. The old Pacifica would’ve dismissed what this nerd was thinking. But then she remembered what the same nerd did for her last year. She then made a deal with Dipper, the two of them would hang out at least once a week for the rest of the summer. They both kept their ends of the deal and even continued to stay in contact with each other even after the summers end.

In 2014, she and Dipper basically became best friends and found themselves spending time together whenever it was convenient for the both of them. They did activities together that ranged from her trying to teach Dipper how to play mini golf (he wasn’t particularly good to start with, but he did make progress), Dipper introducing her to the world of “Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons” (she was honestly how much she enjoyed playing it and got invested in the world and lore of the game) and hikes throughout the woods. She enjoyed every second of the time she spent with him. Dipper even felt comfortable enough to tell her what his real name was. She felt like she was able to enjoy her summer like a normal teenager instead of a rich heiress when she was with him.

In 2015, she began to realise she begun to care for Dipper as more than a friend. It was a feeling that she spent most of the summer trying to deny. But that proved to be a challenge because she still did her best to spend as much time with him during that summer. However by the time she eventually accepted her feelings for him, the summer had came to an end and it was once again time for Dipper to leave Gravity Falls.

Halfway through the summer of 2016, she realised that there no better time than the present to admit to herself something she was afraid of. She had to tell Dipper how she felt about him. During one of their weekly hangout sessions, she finally confessed her real feelings to him. She had expected Dipper to not feel the same way back and that he would dismiss how she felt. To her surprise, Dipper felt the same way and he ended up pouring out his own heart and feelings to her as well. Their hangout ended with two of them making plans for their first date, which consisted of a simple picnic on a cliffside in the woods that overlooked the town. She felt like it was only the two of them in the world. Then they they had their first kiss and there was no denying there was definitely a spark between them. She wanted to be held in his arms forever. But, they realised there would be a problem with how the people in their lives would respond to their relationship. She knew that her parents wouldn’t approve of the idea of being in a relationship with someone in a lower tax bracket than them, while Dipper mentioned that Mabel would begin planning their wedding if he told her that he was in a romantic relationship. With these revelations on their mind, they both agreed that it would be the best idea to keep their relationship a secret until they both felt ready. 

Pacifica looked out of the window to see the stars twinkling in the sky. She realised that her relationship with Dipper was more than a secret romance, it was a catalyst of her growth and she was willing to embrace it.

Chapter Text

The moonlight cast long shadows over the Mystery Shack as Dipper quietly approaches the front door. His steps are light  and as his mind was lost in the memories of his evening with Pacifica, he found himself humming the song “Accidentally in Love” by Counting Crows.

He slowly opened the door, trying his best to avoid any of the creaky spots on the floorboards as he slips inside. His thoughts still racing with excitement, fondness and pure joy. Still humming softly, he thinks he’s in the clear and lets out a sigh of relief.

But then, the living room light turned on.

Dipper was caught off guard by this, he turned his head around to see Mabel sat in her pyjamas on the living room chair with Waddles nestled in her lap, as she strokes his back slowly like a villain in a spy movie.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to come home” said Mabel suspiciously.

Dipper’s heart skips a beat as he quickly tries to cover his nerves and forces a casual smile on his face.

“Oh, hey Mabel!” says Dipper while laughing awkwardly. “Didn’t think you’d still be awake. What’s uh going on?”

“I just wanted to know how your investigation went bro-bro” said Mabel with a smirk on her face.

She crosses her arms, giving her brother a pointed look

“Oh, uh, nothing exciting” Dipper responded a bit too quickly

Mabel raises her eyebrow unconvinced by his answer.

“Oh, is that so?” asks Mabel.

“Um yeah“ said Dipper. “It was just some scurrying gnomes that set off the radar”

As Dipper continued rambling, Mabel’s attention was drawn to a silver chain necklace that was hanging around her brother’s neck.

“Say, what is that around your neck?” Mabel asks as she stands up from the chair, gently places Waddles back down and slowly approaches Dipper.

Dipper’s eyes widened in realisation about what Mabel was referring to. His eyes quickly glanced down at his neck. Thankfully, the charms were hiding underneath his shirt.

“Oh, uh, that, Grunkle Stan gave it to me” Dipper quickly blurted out. “Yeah, you know how he often wears chain necklaces”. 

“I see” says Mabel with her eyes narrowed. “Never really put you as one for wearing jewellery”

“I just wanted to try something new with my look that’s all” says Dipper as he begins sweating bullets.

“Well, it looks good on you bro-bro” says Mabel as her suspicious look transforms into a smile.

Dipper let out out a mental sigh of relief. 

But then his phone goes off. Dipper freezes for a second and he pulls it out of his pocket quickly.

Paz <3: Made it back home. Tonight was amazing :)

A small smile forms on Dipper’s face. But, he quickly forgot he was in the same room as Mabel who noticed that his sudden personality change as he looked down at his phone.

“Soooooo, who was that?” asks Mabel with a sly grin on her face.

“It’s um... one of those spam text messages” says Dipper with a panicked fake chuckle as he looks back at his phone before quickly putting it back in his pocket. “Something to do with the Funkle Bunkle, whatever that is”

Mabel eyes narrow once again as she studies Dipper’s appearance and his body language for a beat longer.

“Anyway” says Dipper with a fake yawn trying his best to change the subject. “It’s getting late, I should probably be getting to bed” 

He approaches the stairs and looks behind him to see Mabel giving him a suspicious yet teasing glance. 

“You better sleep with one eye open Dipper, I’m gonna figure out your secret at some point.”

This was enough to make Dipper rush up the stairs and retreat to his room. As he lays down on his bed, he pulls his phone back out, glancing back at his girlfriend’s message, and smiles to himself.

Chapter Text

Dipper stirred awake in his room. The bright morning sunlight was pouring through the window. As he sat up and rubbed his eyes, he realised he hadn’t even bothered to change his clothes and was still wearing the same outfit he wore last night on his date with Pacifica.

With a groan, he rubbed his eyes trying his best to shake off the exhaustion and dragged himself out of bed. He shuffled down the stairs, hoping to remain unnoticed by his family. The smell of pancakes and bacon hit him like a punch to the face, while the sounds of chatter mingled through the air.

He approached the kitchen to see the entire crew gathered in the kitchen while they were all preoccupied with their own activities as they were eating breakfast. Mabel was looking through her sketchbook comparing different designs for dresses, Stan was sipping coffee from his mug while reading his newspaper, Ford was reading a hardback copy of “The Bard of the Strings”, while Soos and his fiancee Melody were discussing seating arrangements for their planned wedding for later in the summer. Dipper’s half asleep mind barely processed that Wendy Corduroy was also present, despite the fact that she was no longer an employee at the Mystery Shack. She still remained close with the Pines family, Soos and Melody after her departure. Stan even gave her a spare key so she could visit whenever she was able to and considered her an honorary member of the Pines family.

Dipper slowly approached the coffee machine and stood silently as he patiently waited for the machine to do its work. However, he was unaware that everyone’s attention was now directed towards him.

“How did your investigation go last night Dipper?” asked Ford breaking his silence as he put down his book and turned his attention to his great nephew.

“Yeah, kid” said Stan joining in the conversation with a hint of concern in his voice. “We didn’t even hear you come home last night”.

“Uh, yeah, it went okay guys” said Dipper while trying to hold in a yawn. “The signal was triggered by some gnomes scurrying by. Nothing too exciting”.

“Gnomes?” asked Ford with intrigue. “The radar I set up can only detect supernatural entities that are considered threats. I wouldn’t say that the gnomes are threats”.

“You know, Mabel did get kidnapped by them one time?” Dipper quickly responded, hoping to change the subject and draw attention away from him as he poured the coffee from the pot and poured it into his mug.

Mabel’s eyes narrowed as she observed her brother’s behaviour. She thought that it was very out of character for him to not talk about any of his supernatural findings, even if it did end up being something relatively mundane by Gravity Falls standards. 

“Yes, I’m well aware of that.” said Ford. “I remember reading your notes about it in my old journal”.

Dipper approached the table and sat on the empty chair in-between Wendy and Ford. He slowly took a sip from his mug and helped himself to a pancake.

“‘Sup man?” asked Wendy hoping to strike up a conversation with her friend.

“Oh, hey Wendy” said Dipper as he seem non-phased by the appearance of his childhood crush. "How's your job coming along?"

"It's going great dude" said Wendy enthusiastically. She had taken an interest in managing the business and marketing side of her dad's lumber and and her experience of working with Stan at the Mystery Shack taught her a lot about business and she was able to help successfully expand her family's business to operate outside of town as well.

“Oh, by the way Dipper, were you planning on bringing a plus one to the wedding?” asked Soos casually jumping into the conversation, oblivious to the rising tension.

“Uh, yeah, sure” responded Dipper as he rubbed his eyes. He didn’t register what he was just asked, as his brain was still foggy from exhaustion. 

The kitchen went silent as all attention was once again directed towards him.

“Ooooo, interesting“ said Mabel with a mischievous chuckle. “Who are you planning on bringing bro-bro?”

Dipper’s eyes widened now having fully what he had just been asked and mentally tried to come up with an answer

“Um- Multibear” Dipper quickly blurted out without thinking.

“Look, Dipper, I like all the supernatural stuff of this town” began Melody. “But my family from out of town aren’t familiar with what actually happens here are going to be coming as well”.

“So supernatural weirdness is off the table for this?” Dipper deduced.

“Yeah dude, It’ll probably be a bit too much for all of them to take in during one day” said Soos. “Plus, I’m pretty sure the Manotours don’t exactly have the best party ettiequte”. He quickly glanced over at Mabel who shook her head in agreement.

“For you guys, absolutely” said Dipper as he shot a smile towards the engaged couple.

Suddenly, Dipper got distracted as felt his phone vibrate, he pulled it out of his pocket to see what it was. He looked at his lock screen to see he got a text from his girlfriend. His eyes lit up and a small smile formed on his face as he remembered that he changed his phone background to a selfie of him and Pacifica cuddling together and smiling.

Paz <3: Morning xxx, still thinking about last night. <3 <3

But unbeknownst to him and everyone else at the table, Wendy caught a glimpse of his phone background as well as the notification. However, she mentally chose to not say anything and paid more attention to his facial and body language.

“Oh, was it another text about the Funkle Bunkle?” asked Mabel, her voice dipped in curiosity with a hint of teasing.

“Uh, yeah” said Dipper as he began sweating bullets as he quickly put his phone back in his pocket.

“Funkle Bunkle?” asked Stan. “Didn’t I tell you kids a story about me winning it that one time?”

“What’s that?” asked Ford as he looked at the younger set of Pine Twins.

Dipper and Mabel both glanced at each other, before looking back at their Grunkle and shrugged simultaneously.

“Maybe, you should tell that story again” said Dipper nervously chuckling.

“Can you stop changing the subject Dipper” said Mabel with a frustrated sigh. “You don’t think I can see what you’re trying to do?”

“What do you mean?” asked Dipper nervously.

“You’re being so secretive lately and it’s making me worried” said Mabel. “Can’t you tell us what’s really going on with you?”

Dipper felt the temperature in the room rise and his heart racing. Despite being on board with the idea of bringing Pacifica to his friends's wedding, the thought of everyone’s reactions to him being in a relationship with her filled him with dread. Part of him knows he was overthinking it, but the other part of him really wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. So he did the most rationally impulsive thing he could think of on the spot.

“I need some air” Dipper quickly blurted out as he rushed out of the kitchen.

Mabel let out a disappointed sigh as she Dipper left the kitchen, hoping that he’d finally be more open.

“What got you so worked up Hambone?” asked Soos observing Mabel’s disappointment.

“Because I don’t want what happened between our Grunkles to happen to us as well”. exclaimed Mabel with concern in her voice.

Stan and Ford shot a worried glance at each other realising that her worries about her brother were much deeper than they initially thought.

“Mabel, you and Dipper have the strongest bond I’ve seen between siblings” said Ford with warmth in his voice as he stood up, approached his great niece and laid his hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah, you two were the reason us old fossils were able to fix our brotherhood” said Stan with a chuckle that felt sincere as he looked at Mabel who was sat next to him. “I’m sure whatever is up with him, I’m sure he’ll tell us when it’s right for him and you’ll both will sort it out”.

“But, me and Dipper are the same age as you guys when you two started hating each other” said Mabel as she pulled her Grunkles into a hug. “I’m still worried that’s going to happen with us too”.

Wendy’s eyes narrowed as she payed attention to Mabel’s anxieties about her twin brother.

“I’ll go talk to him” said Wendy getting up from her chair.

“What?” asked Mabel with curiosity as she let go of her Grunkles and focused on what her friend had to say. “Why?”

“I was seventeen once. I think I have an idea with what’s going on with Dipper”. said Wendy as she approached Mabel. “I feel like this is the sort of situation where he might just need a friend”.

“Thanks Wendy” said Mabel as she pulled the taller red haired young adult into a hug.

“No worries” said Wendy with a sincere smile as she returned the hug.

“Where do you think he went?” asked Melody.

“I think I have an idea where he’d be” said Wendy with a smirk as she left the kitchen.

Chapter Text

The sunlight filtered through the silk curtains of Pacifica’s room, casting a golden hue over her bed. She stirred under the silk covers; her body was heavy with sleep. The events of last night played in her mind, a whirlwind of laughter and romance as she and Dipper spent the whole night enjoying each other’s company under the stars.
 
Pacifica opened her eyes, blinking against the brightness. She picked up her phone from her bedside table and began writing a text to Dipper.
 
Morning xxx, still thinking about last night. <3 <3
 
After pressing send, she stretched her arms, let out a sigh, and got out of bed. However, she came to the realisation that she was still wearing the same outfit she wore on her date the previous night. Despite this, she left her bedroom anyway. Mentally, she was hoping that Dipper didn’t make the same mistake she did. 
 
As she strolled barefoot down the neatly polished hallways of Northwest Mansion, she took a look in a nearby mirror hanging on the wall. Her hair was a tangle of loose blonde threads, her outfit wrinkled from sleep, and her makeup smudged faintly beneath her eyes, which gave her an unexpectedly softer look. Normally, she’d feel pressured to fix every detail. But right now, she felt happy and content.
 
“Not exactly up to Northwest standards, but...good enough,” she murmured with a smile. 
 
She remembered how Dipper was always able to see through the layers of polish. He’d always say that she looks great, no matter how perfect or imperfect her appearance was. He valued the real Pacifica, and with him, she was comfortable being herself.
 
Her smile faded slightly as she checked her phone again. Still no reply from Dipper. She tried to shake her mind off the uneasiness that was creeping in by mentally telling herself that he was probably busy. But even so, the waiting felt heavy. She continued walking, hoping that it would clear her mind.
 
As she turned a corner, she was caught off guard as she nearly bumped into her parents. She felt her mother eyeing her up and down; the disapproval on her face was obvious.
 
“Pacifica, you know better than to wander around looking so... dishevelled,” Priscilla said with her lips pursed as she examined her daughter’s appearance.
 
“Your mother is right,” said Preston as he folded his arms as a frown formed on his face. “You should be preparing for the Thornborough Summer Gala next month.”
 
“We are expecting you to represent us with dignity, elegance, and poise,” said Priscilla with a stern coldness in her voice.
 
“Of course, I’ll be ready for it,” said Pacifica, keeping her face and voice neutral. It was a practiced skill for her now.
 
She forced a polite smile and stepped around her parents, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as she continued down the hallway. When they were out of sight, she felt her shoulders slump. Dipper wouldn’t judge her like they did. Her mind began drifting to a memory that felt like almost a lifetime ago at that point.

She was fifteen, standing on the edge of Lake Gravity Falls, skipping rocks with him on a late afternoon away from the world. As the sun began to set and cast shades of pink and orange over the lake, Dipper tried to show her what he described as “the perfect throw,” sending a stone skipping across the lake’s surface. She rolled her eyes at him, pretending to be unimpressed. But when he grinned over at her, his face was lit with confidence and pride. She couldn’t help but smile back at him.
 
“Your turn,” Dipper said with a nudge of encouragement as he handed her a small rock that he picked up.
 
She tried to skip the rock like he had shown her, and even though it plopped in the water immediately, he clapped for her as if she really did throw a perfect shot.
 
“Not bad,” he said with a smile, as if she really had done something remarkable.
 
It was a small moment, but it left an impact on her. With Dipper, she didn’t have to worry about the weight of her family’s expectations. She didn’t have to be flawless or impress anyone. She felt comfortable being herself—nervous, imperfect, and learning. The way he encouraged her to try, laugh at herself, and believe that she was more than just her family’s name was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. It was on that day that she realised that she didn’t care for him as just a friend. She had fallen in love.

As she blinked back to the present and a soft smile formed on her face, Pacifica grabbed her phone, hoping to see something from him. Still nothing.
 
To distract herself, she changed into her workout clothes and headed to the home gym. She thought that it would be a good idea to keep her mind distracted with a workout. She spent a few minutes on the treadmill before settling on a yoga routine, using each stretch and pose to ease her tension. But her thoughts constantly drifted back to Dipper, lingering on how much he changed her life, how he made her want to be a better person, and that she was more than just her family name.
 
Once she finished her routine, she hit the shower. The hot water did help wash away any lingering memories, and afterwards she changed into a pair of black jeans, a blue t-shirt with a picture of a thirty-eight-sided die, and a white cardigan. Her spirits were lifted slightly. This was the side of herself she liked best. Confident, real, and happy.
 
As she returned to her bedroom, she went to check her phone and saw a text notification from her boyfriend. Her heart skipped a beat, and her eyes widened as she read the message.

Dipper <3: Hey, can we talk about something? In Person.

Chapter Text

The midday sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm light over the Mystery Shack. Dipper was sat on the edge of the roof, staring at a photo of him and Pacifica from the previous night. His mind was far away, so much so that he didn’t even hear Wendy open the latched entrance and stroll over to take a seat beside him.
 
“You good, dude?” Wendy asked casually, breaking the silence.
 
Dipper looked over, surprised to see her. He quickly nodded and forced a smile after tucking his phone into his pocket. “Yeah, yeah,” he replied a bit too quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
 
Wendy raised an eyebrow; her usual laid-back demeanour softened into something more concerned. “So, what’s really going on?” She asked gently.
 
Dipper tensed, staring at the ground below. He knew his usual excuses wouldn’t work on her—Wendy was too perceptive, having known him long enough to see through his behaviour. Plus, her minor in psychology probably helped, too.
 
“It’s... it’s nothing serious,” Dipper sighed. “Just stuff.”
 
“You know you can talk to me, right?” Wendy pressed. “I won’t judge or anything. I’m just worried about you, dude.”
 
“Okay, I’ll tell you,” Dipper exhaled, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. “But you have to promise not to tell anyone. Especially not Mabel.”
 
Wendy raised her hand to her lips, miming a zipper, then pretended to toss away an imaginary key. Though she wore a warm smile, her eyes were serious, urging him to trust her.
 
Dipper let out a sigh, his heart racing as he began. Part of him wasn’t ready for this, but another part trusted her enough to know she was sincere.
 
“Me—and Pacifica—have been secretly seeing each other,” Dipper blurted out, looking back down at the ground. A wave of relief washed over him, but another part of him felt like throwing up.
 
“Huh, okay,” Wendy said, surprisingly casual.
 
“You’re not surprised?” Dipper asked, startled as he looked up.
 
“Well, it does explain the selfie I saw on your phone,” she replied with a smirk.
 
“You saw that?” he stammered, crimson flooding his cheeks.
 
“Relax,” she laughed. “I didn’t tell anyone. I figured this was why you were acting more awkward than usual when Soos asked you about bringing a plus one to his wedding.”
 
“Yeah,” Dipper admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’d love to bring her. It’d be amazing to go as an actual couple.”
 
“So, what’s stopping you?” Wendy asked, her tone shifting to something more serious. “Why are you both trying to keep this a secret?”
 
“We just... want to keep what we have to ourselves for a little longer,” Dipper sighed, gazing at the trees in the distance. “Her parents wouldn’t exactly love the idea of her dating someone who isn’t from ‘high society’ like they are. And if Mabel found out, she’d be thrilled—maybe too thrilled, you know?”
 
“Like planning your wedding the second she finds out?” Wendy chuckled lightly.
 
“Exactly,” Dipper said, managing a nervous laugh. “We’re seventeen; we aren’t ready for all that yet.”
 
“That makes sense,” Wendy said, nodding thoughtfully. “But if she’s that special, maybe you should talk to her about letting a few more people in on it—like Mabel, the rest of your family, or even her family someday, if things get that serious.”
 
Dipper frowned, considering her words. “Yeah, I guess I just worry about pushing her too fast. We’re both happy keeping it just between us right now.”
 
“It’s good you’re thinking about her feelings,” Wendy said, giving him a steady look. “But if you’re seeing a future with her, it’s worth making sure you’re on the same page.”
 
Dipper’s expression softened, a smile creeping onto his face as he thought about his girlfriend. Wendy’s words reminded him of everything he admired about her. “She’s... amazing, Wendy,” he said softly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as his thoughts danced around Pacifica. The mere thought of her made his heart race.
 
“She’s smart—like, really smart. And kind. And funny.” His voice gained confidence with each word. “She’s way more down-to-earth than she used to be.”
 
A dreamy look crossed his face; his expression softened. “Being around her feels like hugging the sun; everything else just fades away, and it’s just the two of us, wrapped in our own little universe.” His cheeks flushed slightly, the warmth of his sentiment radiating through him like a gentle glow.
 
Wendy continued to watch him closely, a knowing smile on her face. She could see how his demeanour shifted, how the thought of Pacifica lit up his eyes. She could almost see the invisible threads that connected the couple together.  “She must really mean a lot to you, huh?” Wendy teased lightly, her smile reflecting her happiness for him.
 
“Yeah,” Dipper said, a lovestruck look formed on his face.
 
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m really happy for you, man,” she said. “Pacifica’s lucky to have a guy like you.”
 
“Thanks, Wendy,” Dipper replied, his cheeks heating further.
 
“But…” Wendy began, her tone turning more serious.
 
“There’s always a but,” Dipper said dryly, bracing himself.
 
“Mabel’s noticed how distant you’ve been lately,” Wendy said. “She’s worried about you two growing apart, like Stan and Ford did when they were younger.”
 
Dipper’s smile faded as Wendy’s words hit hard, stirring guilt in his stomach. “I didn’t realise she was that worried,” he admitted, looking down.
 
“I get that you and Pacifica want to keep things between you for now, but maybe think about talking to Mabel. You can still keep it low-key, but it’ll put her mind at ease,” Wendy suggested. “You don’t have to tell her everything—just enough so she knows you won’t drift away.”
 
Dipper nodded, processing everything Wendy had said. He felt like an idiot for not considering Mabel’s feelings and anxieties about their sibling bond.
 
“Oh, and by the way, if you and Pacifica decide to go public? Maybe we should go on a double date at some point,” Wendy added with a grin.
 
“Wait, you’re seeing someone?” Dipper asked, his curiosity piqued.
 
“Yep,” Wendy confirmed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Her name is Jade. I think you guys would get along.”
 
“I’ll think about it,” Dipper said, his expression softening. “And hey, thanks again, Wendy.”
 
He pulled his phone back out and sent a quick message to Pacifica.
 
Hey, can we talk about something? In person.
 
With that settled, he sighed and stood up and followed Wendy back into the latched entrance that led back to the gift shop and effortlessly made his way down the ladder. As he reached the bottom, he spotted Mabel organising a display of handmade sweaters for sale.
 
“Go on, dude,” Wendy nudged him with an encouraging smile before heading towards the counter.
 
“Hey, Mabel,” Dipper called out nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
 
“Yeah, bro-bro?” Mabel turned, her usual bright smile lighting up her face.
 
“I just wanted to apologise for being distant and distracted lately. I never meant to make you feel left out, and I’d never want you to feel that way.”
 
“It’s okay, Dip. You’re busy with... whatever it is you’ve been doing,” Mabel replied softly.
 
“No, it’s not okay,” Dipper insisted, his voice earnest. “You’re an important part of my life, and I don’t want you to worry about us growing apart. We’ll always be a team, no matter what.”
 
“Thanks for saying that,” Mabel said, her eyes glistening as she pulled him into a hug.
 
Caught off guard, Dipper returned the embrace, holding it for a moment. After they pulled apart, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and read the message.
 
Paz <3: Of course. I’m free right now. Meet at our spot?
 
A smile spread across his face, and he slipped the phone back into his pocket.
 
“Uh, Mabel, I gotta go take care of something quickly,” he said, glancing at her with a mix of hesitation and excitement.
 
Dipper waved goodbye to her and Wendy as he hurried out the shack door, leaving the two girls behind. Mabel watched him go, tilting her head in curiosity.
 
“What did he say up there?” she asked Wendy, her voice filled with intrigue.
 
“Let’s just say I saw a side of your brother I hadn’t seen before, but I think you’ll love it when you do,” Wendy replied with a light smile.
 
Mabel’s curiosity flared, but she trusted Wendy’s words. She knew deep down that Dipper would tell her everything when he was ready. At this moment, she was reassured that whatever he was going through was a good thing.

Chapter Text

Dipper was running through the woods like his life depended on it. The summer sun blazed overhead, filtering through the dense canopy of evergreens and casting flickering shadows on the dirt path. His boots pounded against the dry earth, kicking up small clouds of dust with every step. The air was warm and thick, carrying the scent of pine and wildflowers.

The familiar path twisted ahead, but Dipper didn’t slow down. His mind was racing as fast as his feet, replaying Wendy’s words from earlier that day. He clenched his fists as he pushed forward. She was right—Pacifica really meant a lot to him. And that’s why he had to get to their spot. It wasn’t far now, and with every step, the knot in his stomach tightened. This conversation had been a long time coming.

He slowed his sprint as he spotted Pacifica sitting atop a large rock near the pine tree where they had met the previous evening. The sunlight filtered through the canopy, catching her blonde hair and making it gleam like gold. For a moment, Dipper forgot why he was running. A smile tugged at his lips—she was the reason.

Pacifica glanced up, noticing her boyfriend barreling through the woods toward her, and a grin broke across her face.

But before Dipper could take another step, something tightened around his ankle. He froze, glancing down. He had just set off a rope trap. 

“Oh, crap,” muttered Dipper. 

The rope yanked him skyward. With a startled yelp, he found himself dangling upside down from a tree, swinging like a broken pendulum.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Pacifica shouted, leaping down from the rock and hurrying toward him. Her eyes darted anxiously to the ground, scanning for more traps as she approached. Only when she was sure she was safe did she glance up at him, visibly relieved—though the corners of her lips twitched with amusement.

“Yep,” Dipper groaned, swaying from side to side. The strain in his voice betrayed him. “Just hanging around.” His head was eye level with Pacifica from where he was hanging.

Pacifica stopped short, covering her mouth to suppress a laugh. “I can see that,” she teased, her grin widening as she took in the absurd sight. She tilted her head, giving him a once-over, looking at the blue flannel and “Ghost Harassers” t-shirt he was wearing. “Wait... are you seriously wearing the same thing you wore last night?”

Dipper let out a resigned sigh, his face flushing slightly. “I was in a rush, okay?”. He made a halfhearted attempt to cross his arms, only to remember how difficult that was while dangling upside down.

Pacifica chuckled and shook her head, then carefully stepped back, looking at the rope her boyfriend was dangling from. “So, what was so important that we had to talk in person?” she asked as her amusement faded to concern.

Dipper sighed, his arms dangling helplessly. He needed to get this out, even if it wasn’t under ideal circumstances. “What do you think of the idea of...letting more people know about us?” he asked anxiously.

Pacifica blinked, her lips parted as if to respond, but she hesitated. “Letting more people know...” She echoed, her voice trailing off. Her mind flashed to her parents—their judgmental looks, their scathing words whenever she stepped out of line. Her expression was unreadable as she stepped back, crossing her arms and glancing down at the forest floor.

“I just...” Dipper continued, trying to gather his thoughts. He could feel the heat rising in his face as he swung gently in place. “I don’t want to push you or anything, but... I’ve been thinking about it quite a bit today.”

Pacifica tilted her head. “What brought this up?”

Dipper bit his lip. “I got asked if I wanted to bring a plus one to Soos and Melody’s wedding, and I think that it would be cool if we went together.”

Pacifica opened her mouth to respond, but a loud rustling in the bushes nearby made her freeze. Her eyes darted toward the noise. “What was that?”

Dipper twisted in the rope, trying to see what she was looking at. “Probably just a squirrel,” he said, though his voice wavered. 

The rustling grew louder, and Pacifica took an instinctive step closer to Dipper. “That’s a really big squirrel,” she whispered. 

Before either of them could say another word, the bushes parted, and out jumped a familiar short figure wearing a pointed red hat with a tiny spear clutched in his hand.

“Ha. I gotcha now, Eagle," yelled Jeff the Gnome triumphantly. He then took a glance up at the annoyed-looking teenage boy hanging from the trap he set.

“Jeff,” said Dipper with no hint of amusement in his voice. “What is this?”

“Oh hey, Dipper, long time no see,” said Jeff with a grin. He looked completely unfazed by the situation he was witnessing. “I just heard my trap getting set off and was hoping to have caught dinner.”

Pacifica crossed her arms, glaring at the short-bearded man. “Dinner? You were going to eat him?”

Jeff waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, no, no, no. I was hoping to catch this eagle that’s constantly flying over the woods. Human meat is way too chewy. And fatty. Not to mention all the preservatives you people consume. Blegh.” He stuck out his tongue for emphasis. “No offence though.” 

“None taken,” Dipper deadpanned. “Now get me down.”

Jeff began stroking his scruffy beard. “Eh, maybe. But first, what’s in it for me?”

Dipper groaned again, but Pacifica’s sharp glare silenced Jeff’s smug grin. “Get him down now, or I’ll find out how chewy gnome meat is.”

The threat worked like a charm. “Sheesh, okay, blondie,” said Jeff in a panic. He aimed his spear at the rope. “Bingo,” he muttered, tossing it with all the confidence in the world—only for it to miss and land directly into a tree.

Jeff looked back at the two teens in front of him. The annoyance on their faces was obvious to anyone. “I’m going to go look for another spear,” he nervously chuckled, before scurrying back into the bushes yelling out “I’ll be back, lovebirds.”

“How do you put up with him?” groaned Pacifica as she shook her head.

“He grows on you,” Dipper shrugged. “Like moss. Really annoying moss.”

A chuckle escaped Pacifica’s lips. But her mind went back to the conversation they were having before they got interrupted. She glanced back at Dipper, her smile fading just slightly. “So... Soos and Melody’s wedding, huh?”

Dipper attempted to tilt his head, his expression hopeful despite the circumstances. “Yeah. What do you think?”

“When is it?” asked Pacifica, her voice tinged with nervous curiosity.

“July 24th,” said Dipper, still swaying slightly from the rope. “Just over a month away.”

Pacifica nodded slowly, her gaze drifting to the forest floor as she mulled it over. A thousand thoughts seemed to flicker across her face in just a few seconds. “That’s... soon,” she said softly.

“Yeah,” Dipper admitted. “But not too soon. You’ve got time to think about it.” He gave her a reassuring smile, even as he dangled upside down. “And I’d really like it if you were there. As... us.”

Pacifica glanced up at him, lips twitching as if she wanted to smile but wasn’t quite ready yet. “You’re making this really hard to say no to, you know.”

“Well, I am pretty persuasive,” Dipper said, his grin widening despite his awkward position. “And charming. And—”

Pacifica cut him off with a raised hand. “Okay, stop.” She took a step closer, eyeing him with a mix of exasperation and amusement as the rope swung him lazily from side to side. “It’s impossible to take you seriously when you’re doing this.”

Dipper smirked. “I dunno. Kind of adds to my charm, don’t you think?”

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, letting a small smile break through. Without thinking, she reached up, catching his face between her hands in an effort to hold him still. The movement brought them closer—Dipper’s wide-eyed surprise met Pacifica’s determined smile.

Dipper blinked, a blush creeping into his cheeks. “Uh...thanks,” he said awkwardly. His heart was pounding through his chest as he realized how close they were.

Pacifica’s hands lingered for a moment before she let them fall, stepping back as if the brief closeness had caught her off guard.

“Anyway,” she said, crossing her arms and glancing away to regain her composure. “I’ll think about it. The wedding, I mean.”

Dipper nodded, his upside-down grin softening. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Pacifica studied Dipper thoughtfully. “And I’ll admit...the idea of going to that wedding with you...it sounds nice. Really nice.”

Dipper’s heart fluttered a bit. “You don’t have to do it for me, though.”

“I know,” she replied softly, her eyes locking with his again, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly. She took a look back at Dipper, her lips curved into a sly grin.

“You know,” Pacifica said, tilting her head as if considering something. “This whole ‘upside down’ thing... it reminds me of a movie scene.”

“What?” asked Dipper, suspicious of the sudden look on her face. 

She leaned in slightly, tapping her chin with mock innocence. “Oh, just this famous movie where the girl kisses the guy while he’s hanging upside down. You know, super romantic. A little iconic.”

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The rope swung slowly between them, the tension thick in the air. Dipper’s eyes flicked to her lips, and suddenly it felt like everything was slowing down.

Pacifica could feel her heart racing. She hadn’t meant to be so forward, but something in the air between them shifted. She could almost hear her parents’ disapproving words in her mind, but in that moment, Dipper’s gaze, the warmth in his eyes, made her want to throw caution to the wind. She leaned in first.

Dipper’s pulse raced, a mix of excitement and nerves surging through him. He wasn’t sure what was happening—but he wasn’t about to stop it.

When their lips met, it was gentle at first, hesitant. Neither one of them had expected the moment to arrive like this, but it felt... right. Time seemed to stretch between them, and in that small, quiet space, everything else fell away.

When they pulled away, both of them were breathless, their faces flushed. Dipper, who had gone from wide-eyed surprise to a goofy grin, was the first to speak. “That... that was unexpected.”

Pacifica gave him a quick smile, eyes twinkling as she assessed the situation. “Yeah, well... now I’m going to get you down from there, genius.” She crossed her arms and looked around at the rope trapping him, her brow furrowing as she searched for a solution.

She stepped closer, studying the knot at his ankle. “Alright, I can do this,” she muttered to herself, kneeling down to examine the rope more closely. She pulled on the rope experimentally, but it didn’t budge. Her eyes darted around the clearing, looking for anything to help. A rock—no, too small. A branch—maybe, but it would take too long to untangle.

With a frustrated sigh, she tugged at the rope again, then glanced at Dipper. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m working on it.”

“I’m not looking at you—” Dipper began, but his words faltered as Pacifica reached up to the knot again, her fingers deftly trying to loosen it.

For a brief moment, Dipper couldn’t help but notice how focused she looked, her brow furrowed as she worked. The sunlight filtering through the trees highlighted the strands of hair falling from her ponytail, and Dipper had to fight back a grin.

“Okay, give me a second—” Pacifica said, her voice tinged with concentration. Her bracelet, a delicate silver piece with a small charm on it, caught on the rough bark of a nearby tree as she reached up. There was a faint snap as the clasp broke, and the bracelet fell to the ground. Neither of them noticed as it rolled into the underbrush, lost among the fallen leaves.

With one last determined tug, Pacifica managed to loosen the knot. Dipper dropped a few feet before the rope caught him again, but it wasn’t enough to hold him in place. He crashed down with a thud, landing on his back in a tangle of limbs and rope.

“Whew, well... that’s one way to do it,” Dipper groaned, trying to untangle himself. His body ached, but the worst of it was the embarrassing, ungraceful landing.

Pacifica snorted, her expression softening. She reached out and pulled him into a tight hug, pressing her head against his chest. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she murmured, her voice muffled by his flannel shirt.

Dipper, still in a daze from the fall, let out a breath. “Yeah, I’m fine... just, you know, making an entrance.” He tried to joke, but his voice was thick with the awkwardness of the situation.

He hugged her back, letting the moment stretch out. “Me too. Thanks for saving me... and for the, uh, unique kiss.”

She pulled back slightly, giving him a look that was half teasing, half sincere. “Anytime. But I’ll only save you if you keep being so charming.”

Dipper’s grin widened. “Well, if you insist...” He leaned down, giving her a second kiss, this one longer, deeper. It was a kiss that felt like a promise, one that neither of them was quite ready to break before getting back onto their feet. 

She smiled back at him, her gaze lingering for a moment longer. “I’ll see you around, Dipper.”

“Yeah, see you.” Dipper watched as she disappeared down the path in the opposite direction. His heart still fluttered from the kisses, but he felt a sense of peace, knowing they’d made progress.

As Pacifica walked further away, she absentmindedly tucked her hair behind her ear once more, still unaware of the bracelet that had slipped off her wrist. It remained on the forest floor, glinting faintly in the fading sunlight.

Dipper, too, continued walking, though he kept glancing over his shoulder as if he half expected her to call him back. But soon, the distance between them grew, and he turned his focus back to the path ahead.

And the forest remained in silence again. Until was interrupted by a rustling in the bushes as Jeff jumped back out, this time holding yet another spear.

“Hey, guys, I’m back!” Jeff panted, clearly out of breath. But his triumphant return quickly soured when he noticed the absence of the teenage couple. “Oh, come on!”

His attention shifted as something caught his eye on the dried-up dirt ground—a purple and blue bracelet with a llama charm, the initials “P.N.” carved neatly into the charm.

“Huh. Must have belonged to Blondie,” Jeff muttered as he knelt down, picking it up. He gave it a quick glance before tossing it casually into his pocket and shrugging. “Well, I know where Dipper lives. I’ll give it back to him... eventually.”

Chapter Text

A few days had passed since Dipper had asked Pacifica about letting more people know about their relationship and bringing up the idea of going to Soos and Melody’s wedding together. Despite wanting to do his best to respect his girlfriend’s wishes, he was anxiously anticipating how long it would take for her to consider the idea.

However, that had not been Dipper’s main concern. He spent the last few days focused on spending more time with Mabel and trying to reassure her that they weren’t growing apart after hearing about her anxieties on the subject.

The last few days had been eventful in true Gravity Falls fashion. Dipper and Mabel had gone on a mini-adventure to a nearby UFO-themed diner that was supposedly "haunted by alien spirits"—though the only thing haunting them turned out to be an exceptionally aggressive raccoon. They’d also rewatched their old favorite movie, "Attack of the Giant Hamster", which quickly devolved into Mabel falling asleep halfway through and Dipper throwing popcorn at her to see how many kernels he could balance on her head before she woke up.

One afternoon, they’d played "Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons", with Mabel creating a "character" that wasn’t even remotely within the rules—a sentient sandwich named Sir Peanut Butter the Bold. Dipper had laughed until his sides hurt, but the real victory was seeing Mabel look genuinely happy and at ease.

Still, despite all the fun, a tiny part of Dipper couldn’t help but feel guilty. Mabel’s happiness made him hesitate to bring up Pacifica. What would she think if she found out he’d been keeping this secret from her? Would she feel betrayed, or would she just tease him relentlessly? Both options made his stomach twist.

But what caught his attention now was Mabel, focused on getting her costume ready for Grenda’s Summerween party. She was applying some fake blood under her nose to create the appearance of a nosebleed while dressed in a pale pink dress with a white lace collar and a light blue zip-up hoodie. On her feet were white tube socks and sneakers, and perched atop her head was a suspicious-looking short blonde wig.

Dipper quickly realized that his twin was trying to emulate Twelve from the show "Weirder Stuff". Mabel had been absolutely hooked on the show after the first season, while Dipper thought it was kind of overrated. After all, he’d faced real monsters, ghosts, demons, and Bill Cipher, so the show’s supernatural elements didn’t feel all that threatening to him. In fact, it often distracted him with how much the show got wrong about those creatures. But he did appreciate the references to "Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons", so there was that, at least.

“Hey, Dipper, what do you think?” Mabel asked with a massive grin that humorously contrasted with the relatively straight-faced character she was trying to dress up as.

“I think if the real Twelve saw you, she’d file a restraining order,” Dipper said flatly.

Mabel gasped in mock offense. “Excuse you, this wig was EXPENSIVE. And the fake blood? Organic, gluten-free, and sourced from locally grown beets.”

Dipper raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure Twelve wouldn’t care about the farmer’s market pedigree of her nosebleeds.”

“Jealous,” Mabel said, sticking out her tongue. “You wish you had my costume-making skills.”

“Sure, if I ever needed to dress as ‘Middle School Wig Store Disaster,’ I’d call you first.”

The two dissolved into laughter, the sibling banter easing any lingering tension between them.

“So,” Mabel said, shifting gears, “what about you, Dipper? Are you coming to the party?”

“No way,” said Dipper flatly.

“What? Why not?” asked Mabel, cocking her head with curiosity.

“I’ve just never really been a fan of parties, you know?” Dipper said, shrugging.

Mabel crossed her arms. “What about that one at the Shack?”

“Which one? The one with the clones of me, or the one with the zombies?” Dipper shot back.

“Pfft, those were some of the BEST parties we’ve ever had, Dipper! You just have to learn how to loosen up.” Mabel gave him a playful nudge before bounding off to perfect her costume.

Stan came stomping down the stairs, his battered leather bag slung over his shoulder. “Hey, kids! Don’t blow the place up while I’m gone!” he called, zipping up his coat.

“Where are you going?” Dipper asked.

“To the Tricksters’ League Summerween meet-up,” Stan replied proudly. “Gotta defend my title of Scariest Shack Owner. Three years running!”

Dipper raised an eyebrow. “That’s a real thing?”

“You’re darn right it is!” Stan said, waving a hand. “Anyway, I’m outta here. Don’t wait up!” With that, he strode out the door, humming a creepy tune.

Next was Soos, who wandered in with a clipboard, mumbling to himself. “Hmm... maybe we could put the candy fountain next to the chocolate fondue station?”

“Soos, what are you doing?” Dipper asked.

“Oh, hey, dude! Melody and I are going to the Summerween Candy Auction to stock up for our wedding!” Soos said with a grin. “Gotta get those top-tier treats. Wish me luck!”

He gave Dipper a thumbs-up and headed out.

Finally, Ford came into the room, flipping through a stack of papers. “Dipper, have you seen my lecture notes on Summerween anomalies?”

“Uh, no,” Dipper replied.

Ford adjusted his coat and briefcase. “I’m giving a talk at the Gravity Falls Museum on Summerween traditions and their connections to the town’s supernatural history. It should be fascinating! I’m sure plenty of townsfolk will find the topic engaging.”

“Sounds cool,” Dipper said with a polite nod.

“Well, I’d better get going. Lock up the Shack if you leave!” Ford said, heading out the door.

Finally, silence filled the Shack. Dipper stood in the center of the living room, staring at the empty space around him. For the first time in a while, the Mystery Shack was entirely his for the evening.

A grin spread across his face as an idea formed. Reaching for his phone, Dipper hesitated for a moment before typing out a message.

Hey, the Shack is empty tonight. Wanna come over for spooky movies?

He stared at the text for a moment, then hit send. The reply came almost instantly.

Paz <3: Be there in an hour. Don’t pick anything lame.

Dipper couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. Then reality set in—an hour wasn’t much time to get the Shack presentable.

“All right, Dipper. Time to get to work,” he muttered to himself.

The next few moments were a flurry of activity. Dipper grabbed an old broom from the closet and swept the floors, trying to banish the dust and clutter from every corner. He wiped down the counter, tidied up the couch pillows, and even dusted off the corners where cobwebs had been gathering. The place still had the charm of a place that had been the center of chaos for years, but at least now it looked like it might be presentable for company.

After a few minutes of frantic cleaning, Dipper paused, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. He stepped back to look at the living room. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough for an evening with Pacifica.

Then it hit him. He was supposed to look presentable too.

He darted toward the bathroom, hopping into the shower with a quickness that would’ve impressed even Mabel. The steam fogged up the bathroom mirrors as Dipper scrubbed quickly, the hot water helping to ease his nervous energy, but only slightly.

He emerged in a fresh pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt—nothing fancy, but it would do. As he stood in front of the mirror, brushing his hair into place, he realised the seconds were ticking away.

It was almost time.

With a final glance at the Shack, he gave the room a once-over. Not bad. The mystery was still intact, but the space looked as welcoming as it ever would.

Then came a knock at the door.

Dipper’s breath caught in his throat. He hesitated a moment—then made his way over to the door, a grin spreading on his face as he reached for the handle.

Chapter Text

Dipper opened the front door to find Pacifica standing there, framed by the soft glow of the porch light. She was wearing an oversized hoodie he instantly recognized as one that once belonged to him—the navy fabric hanging just past her hips, the faint stain near the pocket betraying its well-loved history. It was the same hoodie she’d taken from him a couple of summers ago, back when they were just friends. He remembered the moment vividly: her brushing off his protests with a casual, “It’s so I’ll have something to remember you by once you leave,” and his reluctant acceptance softening when he realised he didn’t really mind.

Now, it looked like it belonged to her, the way it draped comfortably over her smaller frame. Dipper, in contrast, had grown taller and filled out slightly over the past couple of years, making him wonder if it would even fit him anymore.

Beneath the hoodie, he caught a glimpse of a pale gray shirt, the hem peeking out slightly and adding a casual, layered touch to her look. She wore it with black leggings and her usual sleek ankle boots, the polished leather catching the light. Her blonde hair was loose, cascading over her shoulders in soft waves, and she’d tucked a strand behind one ear. In her hands, she held a small bag of snacks, and he couldn’t help but notice the faint hint of cherry lip gloss as she offered him a half-smile.

For a second, Dipper just stood there, frozen. She looked different like this—casual, laid-back, yet effortlessly put together. It was such a stark contrast to the Pacifica who once turned her nose up at the Shack when they were both 12 years old.

“Are you gonna let me in, or are you planning to stare all night?” Pacifica teased, her voice breaking through his thoughts.

“Uh, yeah! Right. Come on in,” Dipper stammered, stepping aside to let her pass, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest.

Dipper stepped aside, holding the door open as Pacifica breezed past him into the Shack. Her gaze swept over the room, her smile softening as memories flickered behind her eyes. The last time she’d been inside here, the Shack was a fortress against the chaos of Weirdmageddon—its walls reinforced with boards and Stan's collection of questionable "emergency" supplies scattered everywhere.

"Wow," Pacifica said, turning to face him. "It doesn’t look like the end of the world anymore. It’s... cozier than I remember."

Dipper closed the door, grinning. "Yeah, we managed to downgrade from ‘apocalypse hideout’ to ‘mystical tourist trap’ again. A real glow-up."

She laughed softly, brushing her hair over her shoulder. "Still smells like the Shack, though. Pine and... is that mothballs?"

"Probably," Dipper admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Stan’s idea of ‘spring cleaning’ is moving all the junk from one closet to another."

Pacifica smirked, her fingers brushing against the edge of the hoodie’s sleeve. "Well, it’s still better than my house. At least here, the walls aren’t judging me."

Dipper hesitated for a moment, studying her expression. Her tone was light, but he could sense the weight beneath her words. He decided to steer the conversation toward something lighter.

"So, what’d you bring?," he said, nodding to the bag in her hands.

"Popcorn—none of that weird caramel-coated stuff, thank you very much—some candy, and, because I know you’re a nerd, M&N’s." she said as she held up the bag with a grin.

"Hey, M&Ns are a universal favorite. Don’t knock them," Dipper replied, pretending to be offended as he took the bag from her.

"I’m not knocking them. I’m earning points for knowing your terrible taste," she teased, crossing her arms.

He chuckled, motioning toward the couch. "Well, if you think my taste in snacks is bad, wait until you see my movie selection."

Pacifica raised an eyebrow as she settled onto the couch, curling her legs beneath her. "Oh no. What did you dig up this time?"

Dipper grabbed a small stack of dusty VHS tapes from the table. "Behold Stan’s personal collection of cinematic masterpieces. First up, ‘Terror of the Tooth Fairy.’ It’s exactly as horrifying as it sounds."

Pacifica grimaced, rolling her eyes. "Please tell me there’s an option that doesn’t involve traumatising childhood memories."

"Alright, fair point," Dipper said, shuffling through the tapes. "How about ‘My Mummy’s a Werewolf 3: The Secret Twin’? Because this premise really needed to be stretched out into a trilogy."

"Still no," she said, smirking.

Dipper held up the final VHS tape, the label scrawled in faded marker. "‘The Silent Watcher.’ This one’s a mystery even to me,” he said, turning the tape over in his hands. “Found it in Stan’s super exclusive stash of horror films.”

Pacifica raised an eyebrow. “So exclusive he probably doesn’t even know it’s there?”

“Exactly.” Dipper grinned. “I mean, how bad can it be?”

“That’s never a reassuring question,” Pacifica said, smirking. “Fine. Let’s roll with it. But if it’s awful, you owe me.”

“That’s fair,” Dipper said, sliding the tape into the VCR, before making his way over to the couch and sitting down next to Pacifica who had already made herself comfortable underneath a blanket.

The movie started with an ominous melody, the screen flickering with black-and-white footage of an abandoned village. The camera panned slowly across empty streets and broken windows, settling on a looming bell tower at the heart of the town. The sound of bells rang out—soft at first, then louder, each chime reverberating with eerie clarity.

Pacifica froze. Her grip on the blanket tightened, and she instinctively pulled her legs closer to her chest. Dipper noticed right away, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

The movie continued, villagers whispering fearfully about the cursed bell tower, but Dipper’s attention stayed on Pacifica. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, but she wasn’t really watching. Her breathing had grown shallow, and her fingers clutched the edge of the blanket like a lifeline.

“Pacifica,” Dipper said softly, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t startle her. “You okay?”

She hesitated, her jaw tightening. “It’s... the bells,” she admitted, barely above a whisper.

Dipper didn’t need an explanation—he already knew. She’d told him when they started hanging out when they were younger about the bells her parents used to keep her disciplined, the way each chime had felt like a command, a reminder that she was never truly free in her own home. The memory of that conversation came rushing back to him now, and his heart ached for her.

“Do you want me to turn it off?” he asked gently, already leaning forward to grab the remote.

Pacifica shook her head quickly. “No, it’s fine,” she said, though her voice wavered. “I can handle it.”

Dipper paused, studying her face. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she was trying to hold herself together. “You don’t have to handle it, you know. You’re allowed to not be okay with this.”

She hesitated, then let out a shaky breath. “It’s just a stupid movie,” she said, though the words sounded more like she was trying to convince herself. “I don’t want to ruin it for you.”

“You’re not ruining anything,” Dipper said firmly. He reached out, his hand brushing against hers. “We’ve got plenty of movies to pick from. This one isn’t worth you feeling like this.”

The bells chimed again, louder this time, and Pacifica flinched, her hand gripping Dipper’s arm before she even realised it.

Dipper didn’t pull away. Instead, he shifted closer, his voice calm and steady. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.”

The sincerity in his tone broke through the walls she’d been trying to keep up. She leaned into him slightly, her head resting on his shoulder. “I hate that it still gets to me,” she admitted quietly. “After everything, I should be past this by now.”

“Pacifica,” Dipper said, his voice filled with quiet conviction, “it’s not about ‘getting past it.’ Stuff like that... it stays with you. But that doesn’t make you weak. It just makes you human.”

She didn’t respond right away, but the tension in her posture began to ease. After a moment, she murmured, “Thanks, Dipper.”

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before reaching for the remote. “Let’s watch something else. I’m calling it now—this movie’s got terrible pacing anyway.”

Pacifica let out a soft laugh, her voice still shaky but lighter than before. “Oh, and ‘ Help! My Mummy’s a Werewolf 3’ has stellar pacing?”

“Absolutely,” Dipper said with mock seriousness as he swapped the tapes. “It’s a cinematic masterpiece. Rotten Potatoes just didn’t know how to handle its brilliance.”

As the new movie began, Pacifica settled back against him, letting the cheesy dialogue and over-the-top effects pull her out of her own head. Dipper kept his arm draped casually over the back of the couch, close enough to let her know he was there without crowding her.

“See?” Dipper said as a poorly-costumed werewolf mummy stumbled into frame. “This is exactly what we needed.”

Pacifica snorted. “Yeah, because nothing screams ‘quality entertainment’ like a monster that looks like it’s held together with duct tape.”

“Hey, that duct tape is doing its best,” Dipper quipped, earning a genuine laugh from her.

By the time the movie reached its ridiculous climax, they weren’t even pretending to pay attention anymore. Pacifica had curled up against him completely, her head resting on his chest as his arm stayed wrapped securely around her shoulders. The warmth between them was enough to chase away any lingering unease.

The tape ended with a loud whir, and they both blinked, realising how late it had gotten.

“Wait,” Pacifica said, sitting up slightly. “What time is it?”

Dipper glanced at the clock, his eyes widening. “Oh no. We totally lost track of—”

Before he could finish, the sound of the front door unlocking echoed through the Shack. Their heads whipped toward the sound in unison.

“Oh crap,” they both thought, exchanging a look of wide-eyed panic.

Chapter Text

Dipper’s heart leapt into his throat as the sound of the front door unlocking echoed through the Mystery Shack, sharp and unmistakable. He froze, still perched on the couch, his mind racing to catch up with the situation.

The front door creaked open, and Dipper got up and rushed to the hallway.

“Dipper? Are you home?” Ford’s voice carried through the Shack as he stepped inside, the sound of his heavy boots echoing off the wooden floor.

Dipper’s stomach dropped. He glanced at Pacifica, who was already wide-eyed and silently mouthing, What do we do?!

“Uh—yeah! I’m here, Grunkle Ford!” Dipper called back, his voice cracking slightly. He grabbed Pacifica by the wrist and pulled her toward the back of the room, whispering, “Go! Sneak out the back door while I keep him busy!”

“Do you even have a plan?” she hissed, narrowing her eyes.

“Of course!” Dipper said, far too quickly. “Step one: Distract Ford. Step two: Distract Ford more. Step three: ... We don’t need a step three!”

“Please tell me you have an actual plan for this.” she said dryly.

“I’ll…improvise!”

“That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.” said Pacifica rolling her eyes, muttering under her breath, creeping towards the kitchen as Ford entered the hallway.

“Great Uncle Ford! Hey!” Dipper greeted him with an overly bright grin, throwing his arms out dramatically. “You’re home early! What a surprise!”

Ford frowned, setting down his briefcase. “You sound unusually cheerful. Why are you being so... animated?”

“What? Me? Animated? Nah, this is just how I—uh—react to, you know, pleasant surprises!” Dipper laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “Anyway, how was the lecture?”

Ford sighed, his shoulders slumping as he removed his glasses and wiped them with the corner of his coat. “Not particularly well. The attendance was... sparse.”

“Oh. That’s, uh... too bad.”

Ford waved off the sympathy with a dry chuckle. “Who could have predicted that holding a lecture about the history of Summerween on the actual holiday would be a poor idea? Shocking, truly.”

Dipper forced a laugh that sounded more nervous than amused. “Yeah, well... at least someone showed up!”

“One would assume,” Ford said dryly. “Aside from Fiddleford—who seemed genuinely fascinated—the rest of the audience was... less than engaged. Mayor Tyler left halfway through to judge a costume contest, and the only other attendees were the sheriff and deputy.”

Dipper winced. “Blubs and Durland?”

“Yes, and they spent the entire talk glaring at me while keeping their hands on their tasers to make sure I didn’t accidentally summon anything ‘spooky,’ as Durland so eloquently put it.”

“Oof.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “But enough about that. What have you been up to this evening? You seem rather... jumpy.”

“What? Me? Jumpy? No way! Just, uh... just watching a movie!” Dipper gestured wildly toward the living room.

Ford’s eyes narrowed. “A movie?”

“Yeah! A classic horror movie! Perfect for Summerween vibes, you know?” Dipper’s voice went up an octave. “Actually, why don’t I, uh, pause it for you so you can—”

Before Dipper could finish, Ford brushed past him and strode into the living room.

“Wait! Grunkle Ford, you don’t have to—!”

Ford stopped in front of the television, his expression unreadable as he stared at the paused screen. Dipper braced himself for disaster, his heart pounding. But there was no Pacifica in sight.

The only thing Ford seemed focused on was the movie’s garish title, emblazoned in dripping, neon-green letters: ‘ Help! My Mummy’s a Werewolf 3: The Secret Twin’.

Ford turned to Dipper slowly, adjusting his glasses. “This... is your idea of a classic horror movie?”

Dipper blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Uh... yeah! It’s, uh, super underrated! Cult classic! Critics didn’t get it at the time, but, you know... history has been kind!”

Ford arched an eyebrow. “Dipper, this is widely regarded as one of the worst horror movies ever made.”

Dipper laughed nervously. “Pfft! What? No way! It’s got, uh... atmosphere! And, uh, tension! And—”

“It’s infamous for having the werewolf character turn into a mummy for no discernible reason,” Ford interrupted. “And the titular ‘Secret Twin’ was the point where the series really jumped the shark.”

“That’s part of its charm! ”

Ford crossed his arms, giving Dipper a knowing look. “Are you sure there’s not something else you’re hiding?”

“Of course not! This is totally normal behavior!” Dipper said, waving his hands dismissively.

Ford tilted his head. “Then why are there muddy footprints leading to the back door?”

Dipper’s face paled. “Uh—those aren’t muddy footprints! Those are, uh... chocolate footprints ! You know, from the Summerween candy stash!”

Ford frowned. “The Summerween candy stash is in the attic.”

Dipper floundered. “Well, yeah, but I, uh, relocated it ! For better accessibility! Makes total sense, right?”

Ford raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Instead, he turned back to the screen with a resigned sigh. “Fine. I’ll leave you to your... ‘classic horror.’ But I’d advise you to spend your free time broadening your cinematic horizons.”

As Ford made his way toward his study, Dipper let out a relieved sigh. He glanced toward the back door, where he caught a faint glimpse of Pacifica slipping away into the shadows outside.

Crisis averted—barely.

Meanwhile, Pacifica crept through the Shack, sticking to the walls and carefully dodging anything that might creak underfoot. She winced when she accidentally nudged a broom, sending it clattering to the floor.

Pacifica froze mid-step when something nudged her ankle. She looked down to see Waddles, his snout twitching curiously. She waved frantically at him to shoo, but the pig merely snorted, completely unconcerned with her predicament.

“Shh!” she hissed as the pig waddled up to her, snorting loudly.

Ford’s voice drifted from the living room, sharp with curiosity. “What was that?”

“Uh, nothing!” Dipper blurted. “Just Waddles! You know how he gets!”

Pacifica stifled a groan and pressed herself against the wall, waiting until the voices faded before darting toward the back door. She reached for the handle, her heart racing. Just a few more steps, and she’d be home free.

As she stepped outside, Pacifica barely had time to close the door behind her when she spotted someone trudging toward the Shack. Her stomach dropped.

Mabel.

Disheveled, dirt-smudged, and missing one sneaker, Mabel looked like she’d gone toe-to-toe with something decidedly Gravity Falls -esque. Her pale pink dress was wrinkled and stained with greenish smears, her light blue hoodie had a jagged tear in the sleeve, and in her hands, she lugged a lobster cage that contained what appeared to be... a squirming wig.

Pacifica’s panic spiked.

“Mabel?” she blurted, her voice higher than she intended. “What are you doing here?”

Mabel’s smile was tired but cheerful as she stopped in front of the porch. “Oh, you know, normal party stuff. Dancing, snacks, chasing a wig monster through the woods when it tried to eat my hair. Anyway, now it’s in this cage, and I’m bringing it back for Ford!”

Pacifica blinked. “Right. Totally normal.”

“But you didn’t answer my question,” Mabel said, her smile shifting to a curious frown. “What are you doing  here? At the Mystery Shack. In the middle of the night?”

Before Pacifica could come up with a believable excuse, the door creaked open behind her, and Dipper rushed outside, looking triumphant.

“Well, that went better than I expected,” he announced, oblivious to Mabel’s presence. “Pacifica, we’re in the clear! Ford totally bought my—”

He froze mid-step when his gaze landed on Mabel, who stood there with her eyebrow raised, the lobster cage swinging slightly in her hand.

“Mabel?” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

“Dipper,” Mabel replied, drawing his name out slowly. She glanced between him and Pacifica, her eyes narrowed. “What’s going on here?”

Dipper’s brain scrambled for an out. “Oh, uh... Nothing! Nothing at all! Actually, uh, what’s going on with you, Mabel?!” He pointed dramatically at the lobster cage, seizing on the first distraction he could. “What’s in there? Is that the wig you were wearing? Why is it moving? That looks super weird!”

Mabel narrowed her eyes at him but held up the cage. “Oh, this? Just your average supernatural Summerween disaster. Turns out my so called “perfect” wig was cursed. It tried to eat some of the other guests and then bond with me. Long story short, me, Candy and Grenda wrestled it into this cage, and now I’m bringing it to Ford for study!”

“Wow, that’s, uh... That’s crazy! Super interesting!” Dipper said, his voice high-pitched. “We should totally talk about it more! Like, right now! Tell me everything!”

Mabel tilted her head, her eyes narrowing even further. “Dipper, why are you acting like you’re running for mayor?”

“What? I’m not!”

“Yes, you are. You’re doing that ‘please-don’t-look-too-closely’ thing you do.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

Mabel’s suspicious gaze flicked to Pacifica. “So why’s she here?”

“She’s, uh, just needed information about ghosts! ” Dipper said hastily.

“Research stuff,” Pacifica chimed in, though her voice cracked on the word “stuff.”

“Really? In the middle of the night?” Mabel’s skepticism deepened.

Before either Pacifica or Dipper could come up with a better excuse, a loud rustling from the bushes made them both freeze.

“Oh, no,” Pacifica muttered, her eyes narrowing. “What now?”

Out of the bushes scurried Jeff the Gnome, holding something shiny aloft in his tiny hand. “Hey, Blondie!” he called cheerfully, his grin wider than it had any right to be. “Look what I found!”

Pacifica groaned. “Jeff? What are you doing here?”

Jeff scampered closer, proudly holding up the object in question. “Your bracelet! You dropped it a few days ago, back when you were rescuing your boyfriend!”

Pacifica’s eyes widened in horror as Jeff’s words hung in the air like an explosion in slow motion.

“Boyfriend?” Mabel asked, her tone suspicious and curious all at once.

“Jeff, no,” Dipper said, his voice tight and barely above a whisper.

“What?” Jeff blinked up at him. “I’m just saying she lost it when she came running to save you. Remember that rope trap? You were all, ‘Help, Pacifica!’ and she—”

“ Jeff! ” Pacifica interrupted, her cheeks turning bright pink. “Do you mind? ”

Jeff tilted his head, utterly unbothered. “What? I thought it was sweet! A classic damsel-saving-a-knight-in-distress moment! Totally cute!”

Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “You are not helping.”

Jeff looked between them, confused. “What? You didn’t want people to know? Why didn’t you just say so? I’m great at keeping secrets!”

“That’s literally the opposite of what’s happening right now!” Dipper snapped, his voice rising slightly.

Jeff shrugged. “Well, anyway, here’s your bracelet. You’re welcome!” He held it out, and Pacifica snatched it back with a muttered, “Thanks. I guess.”

“No problem!” Jeff said cheerfully. “You two are lucky, though. Not every couple gets such a cute rescue story! You should tell your kids about it someday!”

Mabel gasped loudly, her eyes going impossibly wide as she whipped her head toward Dipper.

“Jeff, please, ” Dipper groaned, shooting Pacifica a desperate glance.

“Alright, alright, I’m leaving.” Jeff threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Good luck with your secret summer romance!” He saluted with a cheeky grin and scurried back into the bushes, humming to himself.

Silence fell, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves as Jeff disappeared.

Mabel took a step closer to Dipper and Pacifica, her mouth opening and closing as her brain went into overdrive.

“Wait a second,” she mutters under her breath. “The sneaking off. The bad excuses. The... the... THE LOOKS! IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW!”

Her hands fly to her cheeks. Her mental checklist spirals out of control:

• Dipper’s going off on “paranormal investigations” by himself.
• Pacifica just ‘happening’ to stop by and wearing a hoodie that looks too big on her.
• The time she swore she saw Dipper humming a song that sounded suspiciously romantic when he came home the other night.
• Dipper’s awkward behaviour when he was asked about bringing a plus one to Soos and Melody’s wedding the other day.
• JEFF’S STORY!
• OH MY GOD!

Her brain is practically doing gymnastics now, flipping and somersaulting through all the pieces of evidence she’d ignored before. It’s like ‘Ducktective’, except this time she’s Ducktective, and the mystery is juicier than a summer watermelon.

Suddenly, it’s so obvious. It’s the kind of obvious that makes you want to scream, “HOW DID I MISS THIS?”

Mabel’s eyes snap back to Dipper, who is staring at her with a mix of dread and sheer horror, like a man watching a very slow train wreck.

She’s practically vibrating with excitement. Her hands are clasped together, her eyes twinkling with unrestrained glee, and her grin stretches wider than it should physically be possible.

Dipper recognizes that look. He knows that look. His stomach sinks like a rock. He braced himself, knowing full well that nothing—not pleading, not reasoning, not even bribing her with gummy koalas—could stop what was about to happen.

“Pacifica,” he says urgently, his tone one of sheer desperation. “Cover your ears.”

“What? Why—”

“Just trust me!”

Pacifica frowns, but reluctantly clamps her hands over her ears, casting her boyfriend a wary glance. Before she can ask another question, it begins.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…”

Chapter Text

“...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” Mabel squealed at a frequency that only dogs could hear.

“Are you done?” asked Dipper flatly as he lowered his hands from his ears. “That felt like it lasted…” Dipper started mentally counting “…more than two weeks.”

“Yeah, I’m done,” said Mabel, beaming as though she’d just performed a sold-out concert.

“Oh thank god,” said Pacifica as she took her hands off of her ears.

Mabel wasted no time, practically vibrating with excitement as she pointed dramatically between Dipper and Pacifica. “Okay! Spill the beans! How long have you two been secretly dating behind everyone’s backs?! A month? A year? Was it during everything with Mr. What's-His-Face?!”

Dipper and Pacifica stood in stunned silence, still doing their best to process what had just happened. Their relationship, which they’d worked so hard to keep a secret, was just exposed. By Jeff, no less.

Mabel continued her interrogation, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Come on, I need to know! What’s the ship name? Dipcifica ? I vote for Paci-dip myself—oh, but that sounds like something you’d have with nachos...”

Dipper flushed, nervously scratching the back of his head. “Uh, we’re not…we didn’t put much thought in it.”

“Right,” Mabel said with exaggerated understanding. “Okay, okay, but seriously, what’s the timeline here? When did this all start?”

“Maybe,” Pacifica said softly, glancing sideways at Dipper, “we can save some of the details for later? You know, when you give us some privacy.”

Mabel frowned, crossing her arms. “Privacy? What do you need privacy for? You’re not gonna, like, elope, are you? Because if you are, I should be maid of honour or a witness or something!”

Dipper groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Mabel pouted, crossing her arms. “Fine,” she grumbled. “But what am I supposed to do in the meantime? It’s not like I have anywhere important to be—”

Suddenly, the lobster cage she’d been holding—forgotten in the excitement of her brother’s romantic revelation—began rattling violently. She yelped and looked down, her face paling as the possessed blonde wig from her Summerween costume let out a deep, demonic growl, thrashing against the bars like a cat in a pet carrier on its way to the vet.

“Oh… right,” Mabel said sheepishly, holding up the cage as it shook again. “Guess I’d better deal with this. Have fun being all lovey-dovey or whatever!”

“Ford’s in the basement,” Dipper said as casually as he could.

“Thank you!” Mabel said urgently, vanishing into the Shack and slamming the door behind her.

Pacifica let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “She’s… a lot.”

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Dipper sighed with a chuckle, letting out a long breath as the chaos finally dissipated.

They moved toward the totem pole at the edge of the yard and sat down, leaning against the weathered wood. The weight of the conversation, combined with the sudden exposure of their secret, hung in the air for a moment. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, as the quiet of the forest wrapped around them like a blanket. The faint rustle of leaves, the chirping of crickets, and the distant hum of the Shack’s lights created a cozy but surreal atmosphere.

“So,” Pacifica began, breaking the silence. “What happens next?”

Dipper hesitated, glancing down at his hands, his mind spinning. “I guess we’ll have to tell people now.” He looked at her cautiously. “That’s going to be… interesting.”

Pacifica let out a small laugh. “You’ll probably have it easier with your family. Try explaining this to Preston Northwest: ‘Oh hey, Dad, you know the guy who encouraged me to let the entire town into our party to stop that lumberjack ghost haunting our family when I was twelve? Yeah, he’s my boyfriend now.’” She shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “That’s gonna go over great.”

Dipper turned toward her, his expression softening. “Are you… okay with that?”

Pacifica was quiet for a moment. She stared up at the stars as if they might hold the answers to her thoughts. The twinkling lights above seemed to offer no judgment, only the kind of quiet companionship that made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could be okay with this. “Honestly?” she said, her voice small, barely more than a whisper. “I don’t know. I’ve spent so much of my life trying to live up to my family’s impossible expectations. And this?” She gestured between them with a bittersweet laugh. “This is the exact opposite of everything they’ve ever wanted for me.”

She turned to face him, her eyes soft and vulnerable, almost as if she was saying it for the first time. “But at the same time… I don’t care. Being with you makes me happy. And, maybe for the first time, I feel like that’s enough.”

Dipper’s heart skipped a beat. He smiled, the weight of her words settling comfortably in his chest. It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to him, and he found himself leaning closer to her without even realising it.

“You’re enough for me too. And if anyone has a problem with that—whether it’s your parents or anyone else—they’ll have to deal with me first.”

“Dipper,” Pacifica said softly, a playful spark in her eyes. “You can’t just throw your journal at my dad.”

“Oh, I’ve been thinking about it for years,” he said, puffing out his chest in mock confidence. “He won’t know what hit him.”

Pacifica rolled her eyes, but her smile was warm. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah,” Dipper said, grinning, “But I’m your dork.”

For a moment, they simply sat in silence, their fingers laced together as the stars twinkled above them.

But the peaceful atmosphere of the night was shattered by the unmistakable sounds of music—a raucous blend of percussion, strings, and winds.

Sha-la-la-la-la-la,

My oh my,

Look like the boy too shy,

Ain’t gonna kiss the girl…

Dipper and Pacifica froze, their faces turning red.

“No way,” Pacifica whispered.

They turned toward the Shack to see Mabel standing on the porch, a portable speaker in one hand, her phone in the other, wearing the world’s smuggest grin, as she lip synced the lyrics to the song.

“MABEL!” Dipper shouted, his voice cracking slightly.

“What?” Mabel called back innocently. “I’m just setting the mood!”

Dipper groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Pacifica, on the other hand, just laughed. “You know what? Forget it.”

She turned toward Dipper, a mischievous glint in her eye. Before he could ask what she meant, she cupped his face in her hands and pulled him into a kiss.

Mabel’s delighted squeal echoed across the yard.

Dipper and Pacifica broke apart, their faces red as Mabel bounced up and down on the porch like an overexcited puppy.

“This is the best thing EVER!” she shouted.

Dipper groaned again. “Why is she like this?”

Pacifica just smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Because she loves you. And honestly? I think it’s kind of sweet.”

As Mabel disappeared back into the Shack, Dipper and Pacifica turned their gaze back towards the stars.

“I think we’re making the right choice,” Pacifica said softly.

Dipper nodded, squeezing her hand. “Yeah. We are.”

The moment hung between them like the stars above, full of quiet promises and unspoken words. The sky stretched endlessly, each star twinkling brightly, as if the universe itself was giving them its blessing—silent, but unmistakable approval for what was to come. The night held no rush, no need for anything else. Just them, together, feeling that everything was finally as it should be. And for the first time in a long while, they both knew this was right. Maybe, just maybe, the stars were giving them a little push to share their love with the world.

Chapter Text

Dipper paced nervously in front of the Mystery Shack, the sun beating down on the dry grass under his boots. Each step sent up tiny clouds of dust, the brittle blades crunching softly beneath his weight. His fingers brushed over the small silver llama pendant hanging from his neck, a subconscious habit as he tried to calm his nerves. It had been two weeks since the chaos on Summerween night when Mabel found out about his secret. She’d taken it surprisingly well—once she got past the initial squealing—but somehow, this moment felt more nerve-wracking than any of that.

Today was the day—finally, the day he was going to introduce Pacifica as his girlfriend to his family. After everything he’d been through—mysterious creatures, supernatural dangers, even the apocalypse—it still felt a little ridiculous that a simple lunch could make him feel this anxious.

"This shouldn’t be a big deal, right?" Dipper muttered to himself, rubbing the pendant again.

It wasn’t that he was worried about the reaction. Well, okay, maybe a little worried—Stan had a way of turning everything into a joke. But mostly, he just wanted everything to go perfectly for Pacifica’s sake. She’d worked so hard to prove how much she’d changed, and he didn’t want anyone dredging up old memories of who she used to be.

The bigger issue, though, had been how long it had taken to get everyone together. Pacifica had been tied up with her part-time job at Greasy’s Diner, a role she’d taken on despite her parents’ protests. She was proud of it, though, and Dipper admired that about her. Soos and Melody had been tied up with Shack duties and wedding planning. Wendy had been juggling her job and insisted on bringing her girlfriend Jade along. And, of course, Stan and Ford had been called out of town to investigate some supernatural disturbance in Gravesfield, Connecticut—or at least, that’s the story they were sticking with. Stan had muttered something about not wanting to talk about it, which only made Dipper more curious about what really happened.

Dipper’s pacing slowed as the faint hum of an approaching engine caught his attention. His heart skipped a beat, and he quickly straightened up, brushing his hands down the front of his red flannel shirt. The sound grew louder, and moments later, a blue sedan rounded the bend and pulled into the makeshift parking lot in front of the Shack, kicking up a small cloud of gravel and dust.

The car door opened, and for a moment, Dipper forgot how to breathe.

Pacifica stepped out with her usual grace, her golden hair catching the sunlight in soft waves as it tumbled over her shoulders. She was wearing a lavender blouse that hugged her frame and a pair of white jeans that somehow managed to stay pristine, even as her black flats touched down on the dusty ground.

Her outward confidence was striking, but Dipper caught the subtle tension in the way her shoulders stiffened and her eyes darted toward the Shack. For a moment, she looked every bit the poised girl she’d been raised to be—careful, deliberate—but there was something in her expression that made Dipper pause.

Was she as nervous as he was? If so, she was a lot better at hiding it.

Dipper took a step toward her, his heart hammering in his chest as Pacifica closed the car door behind her. He raised a hand in a quick wave, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. “Hey,” he said, his voice a little shaky but genuine.

Pacifica turned toward him, her smile warm despite the tension in her posture.

“Hey,” she said softly, the word carrying more reassurance than he expected.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the weight of the moment pressing down on them like the sun above. Then, without thinking, Dipper took another step forward, his boots crunching over the dry grass.

Pacifica hesitated for only a second before meeting him halfway. She slipped her arms around his shoulders in a gentle but firm hug, and Dipper felt his tension ease almost immediately as he wrapped his arms around her in return.

The faint scent of lavender lingered around her, and he felt his heartbeat steady as she held onto him a little tighter. Her hands rested lightly on his back, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, his voice muffled slightly against her hair.

She nodded against him, her arms still snug around him. “Yeah. Just… big moment, you know?”

Dipper pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her. “Tell me about it,” he said with a nervous laugh. “I’ve been pacing out here for ten minutes trying to talk myself into not chickening out.”

Pacifica raised an eyebrow, a small smile breaking through her nerves. “Dipper, if you’re freaking out, how am I supposed to stay calm?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Good point. I guess I’m not setting the best example, huh?”

Her smile softened, and she reached up to brush some dust off his flannel shirt. “"Hey, you’re here, I’m here, and whatever happens in there... we’ve been through worse.".

Dipper let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and nodded. “Yeah… yeah, we have.”

Pacifica gave his flannel one last dusting, her fingers lingering for a brief second before dropping to her side. “Still, this feels… different. Like, I know Mabel’s going to be cool—she practically forced this confession out of us, right?”

Dipper chuckled awkwardly. “Pretty much.”

“Well then,” she said with a playful tone, “Let’s go show them how it’s done.”

And as they walked toward the Shack together, side by side, Dipper couldn’t help but feel a little lighter.

As Dipper opened the door, the familiar warmth of the Mystery Shack washed over him. The scent of wood, old paper, and the faintest hint of mystery filled the air. Inside, the atmosphere was as lively and chaotic as ever. Mabel’s laughter rang out over the hum of conversation, Melody was chatting animatedly with Wendy, and the occasional thud of Stan shifting furniture echoed from deeper inside.

The moment they stepped inside, all eyes turned toward the door. A brief pause—just long enough for Dipper to feel his nerves spike—before Soos broke the silence.

“Duuuuuude! It’s the power couple!” Soos called out, arms spread wide in an exaggerated gesture of welcome. He was decked out in his full “Mr. Mystery” suit, the deep maroon fabric looking slightly wrinkled but still impressive in a goofy, Soos-like way.

Pacifica blinked. “Power couple?”

Soos grinned. “Yeah, like, you guys are like peanut butter and jelly, y’know? Or like, um… uh… ghosts and haunted mansions! No, wait—mysteries and dudes who solve mysteries! You’re, like, a match made in spooky heaven.”

Dipper groaned, rubbing his temple. “Soos, please.”

Pacifica smirked, arms crossing as she tilted her head toward Dipper. “I mean, he’s not wrong.”

Before Dipper could protest, Mabel came barreling forward in her bright pink sweater, which was adorned with a huge heart pattern that practically screamed love overload.

“Pacifica! Future basically-sister-in-law! Come here!” Mabel launched herself into Pacifica with a hug so forceful it nearly knocked her off balance.

Pacifica, to her credit, only stumbled slightly before awkwardly returning the embrace. “Oof—Mabel, wow, okay, hi—”

Mabel pulled back, her eyes practically sparkling. “I knew this day would come! It was only a matter of time before my brother’s dweeby charms won you over.”

Dipper huffed. “Gee, thanks, Mabel.”

But Pacifica just laughed, finally relaxing as Mabel linked arms with her. “Well, if we’re basically family now, does that mean I get a say in any embarrassing stories about Dipper?”

Mabel gasped dramatically. “Girl, yes. I have years of material. I hope you’re ready.”

Dipper groaned again. “Please, no.”

Before Mabel could get into specifics, Stan’s voice cut through the chatter.

“Well, well, look who’s slumming it with us again.”

Dipper tensed even before turning to face Stan, who was leaning casually against the counter, arms crossed. He was dressed a little sharper than usual—a neatly pressed button-up instead of his usual tank top and suit jacket combo—but the mischievous glint in his eye was pure Stan Pines.

Pacifica straightened a little, clearly prepared for something, but Dipper already knew what was coming.

Stan gave her a once-over, then smirked as he gestured vaguely toward Dipper. “Alright, I gotta ask—why this guy?”

Dipper groaned. “Stan.”

Stan ignored him, grinning as he continued. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s got his charms—if you’re into book smarts, anxious energy, and conspiracy rants—but c’mon, you’re a Northwest! You could probably date some fancy CEO’s kid or a movie star. But you go for Dipper?”

Pacifica barely batted an eye. Instead, she turned toward Dipper with a slow, deliberate smirk, stepping just a little closer. “I could date a rich CEO’s son,” she said thoughtfully. “Or a prince. Or, you know, someone with an actual sense of fashion.”

Dipper made a noise of protest. “Hey—”

She ignored him, reaching up to toy with the collar of his flannel. “But see, here’s the thing. Fancy guys might have money, but this one?” Her fingers trailed lightly down the front of his shirt, smoothing it out with a bit more care than necessary. “He’s got brains, loyalty, kindness, and he’s adorable when he starts ranting about government cover-ups.”

Dipper felt his face heat up instantly. “Paz—”

She turned her attention back to Stan, resting a hand on Dipper’s shoulder like she was proving a point. “Plus, have you seen his freckles up close? They’re like, unfairly cute.”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “Huh. So that’s what does it for ya, huh? Freckles and paranoia?”

Pacifica tilted her head. “I mean, they do go well together.”

Stan burst out laughing. “Alright, I like her.” He jabbed a thumb toward Dipper. “You’re punching way above your weight class, you know that?”

Dipper sighed dramatically. “Oh, trust me, I’m painfully aware.”

Pacifica leaned in slightly, dropping her voice to a teasing murmur only he could hear. “Good. Just making sure you appreciate what you’ve got.”

Dipper swallowed hard, trying and failing to fight back a dopey grin. “Yeah. I do.”

Before Dipper could fully recover from the embarrassment of Pacifica casually destroying him in front of his entire family, another voice cut in.

“Well now, I must say, this is quite the surprise,” Ford said as he stepped forward. He was wearing his usual red turtleneck, hands tucked behind his back, studying Pacifica with the same analytical gaze he used when encountering some unknown anomaly.

Pacifica straightened instinctively, her old training in upper-class socializing kicking in. “Professor Pines,” she greeted, her tone polite but wary.

Ford blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Oh. You know who I am.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You’re Stanford Pines, the renowned researcher of anomalies and interdimensional travel. Your work is fascinating.”

Dipper watched as Ford’s expression flickered from surprise to something like intrigue. It wasn’t often someone outside of their weird niche actually knew about his research without needing a long-winded explanation.

“Well,” Ford said, adjusting his glasses, “I wasn’t expecting that. You’ve certainly done your homework.”

Pacifica shrugged, shooting Dipper a quick glance. “I have my reasons for staying informed.”

Dipper felt his ears burn again.

Ford hummed, then crossed his arms. “Dipper mentioned you were working at Greasy’s Diner. That’s quite the leap from the lifestyle you were raised in.”

Pacifica met his gaze evenly. “Yeah. It’s not glamorous, but it’s honest work, and I like it.”

Ford gave Pacifica an approving nod, clearly pleased with her answers about her job at Greasy’s. “It’s admirable that you’ve chosen to step outside of your family’s expectations and carve your own path,” he said. “That kind of independence will take you far.”

Pacifica, caught slightly off guard by the genuine praise, felt a faint warmth creep up her neck. “Uh… thanks. That means a lot.”

Before she could dwell on it, a boot thunked against the leg of her chair.

“Alright, serious talk’s over,” Wendy drawled, leaning back with her usual effortless ease. “Let’s get to the real important stuff—making fun of Dipper.”

Dipper groaned. “Do we have to?”

“Always,” Wendy said, smirking before jerking her thumb toward the girl lounging beside her. “Anyway, Pacifica, meet Jade. Jade, this is the infamous Pacifica Northwest.”

Jade offered a lazy, crooked grin as she adjusted her position in the chair, leaning back with an easy confidence that matched the warmth of the room. Her worn leather jacket caught Pacifica’s eye immediately, covered in colorful pins that told their own stories. Among the badges were a rainbow flag, a lesbian pride flag, and a trans pride flag, which gleamed softly under the room’s low light. A crescent moon pin sat near her collar, alongside a couple of obscure band logos and a tiny enamel pin shaped like a cassette tape. Beneath the jacket, Jade wore a faded black band tee—the cracked logo barely legible—and tucked it loosely into dark green cargo pants. Her scuffed combat boots looked like they’d been through countless adventures, the laces frayed but determinedly holding on.

She was tall—easily over six feet—and her slim, wiry frame gave off a quiet sense of strength, her broad shoulders relaxed as though she had nothing to prove. Her posture was as casual as her personality, with her long legs crossed at the ankles under the table and her weight slouched back in a way that seemed to claim the space without effort.

Jade’s hair was cut short and choppy, the dark brown roots blending into mossy green tips that framed her freckled face. A small silver hoop glinted in her nose, and her sharp hazel eyes sparkled with mischief as she studied Pacifica. Her expression was playful but assessing, as if she were sizing up a fellow member of some unspoken club.

“So, you’re the famous Pacifica Northwest, huh?” Jade asked, raising an eyebrow as a sly grin tugged at her lips. Her voice was low and slightly raspy, carrying a faint British accent that made each word sound effortlessly cool.

Pacifica blinked, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected accent. “She’s been talking about me?”

“Nonstop,” Jade replied, her grin widening. “Wendy’s been goin’ on about you all week—‘Pacifica this,’ ‘Pacifica that.’ Honestly, I was starting to think you were a ghost she made up.” She leaned forward slightly, propping her chin on one hand. “But here you are, in the flesh. Gotta say, you don’t disappoint.”

Pacifica flushed slightly, unsure whether to take the comment as a compliment or a jab. Before she could respond, Wendy chimed in, tipping her chair back lazily as always.

“It’s all good stuff, promise,” Wendy said, smirking. “I told Jade about the whole ghost-hunting thing. She’s into that kinda stuff.”

“Love a good ghost story,” Jade said with a shrug, her grin still lingering. “But it’s not just that bit. It’s the whole vibe, you know? Used to be all posh and stuck-up, then flipped the script to work at a diner and save the day. Very ‘rags to riches in reverse.’”

“Not sure if that’s a compliment or a roast,” Pacifica said, raising an eyebrow but smiling despite herself.

“Oh, it’s both,” Wendy said with a chuckle, crossing her arms behind her head.

“It’s definitely a compliment,” Jade added, the teasing edge softening in her voice. She gestured toward Pacifica’s seat. “Go on, take a load off. You’re part of the crew now—or at least the day-pass version.”

Pacifica slid into the chair, her earlier nerves fading under the group’s warmth. Jade leaned back in her seat again, crossing her arms as she gave Pacifica another once-over.

“You know, you’ve got this whole… reformed heiress vibe going on,” Jade said with a lopsided grin. “Like one of those old detective movies—except with less trench coat and more diner grease.”

Pacifica tilted her head, laughing softly. “That’s one way to put it.”

“It’s the best way,” Jade countered, tipping an imaginary hat in her direction. “Stick with us long enough, and we’ll teach you how to loosen up properly. First lesson: never trust a chair with all four legs on the ground.”

To demonstrate, Jade tipped her chair back so far that for a moment, it looked like she might fall. Pacifica gasped slightly, her hand twitching toward Jade as if to catch her, but Jade grinned, steadying herself with reckless ease.

“That’s… quite the philosophy,” Pacifica said, shaking her head but unable to suppress a smile.

“It’s more than a philosophy—it’s a way of life,” Wendy said with a laugh, elbowing Pacifica lightly.

“You’re alright, though,” Jade added, her tone more genuine now. She adjusted one of the pins on her jacket—just a subtle flick of her fingers, but it seemed instinctive, like she took comfort in its presence. “Props to you for putting up with this lot. It’s not always easy.”

Pacifica’s eyes lingered on the pin for a moment, something unspoken clicking into place. “I think I’m starting to figure that out,” she said quietly.

“Don’t worry,” Jade said, catching her gaze with a small, knowing smile. “You’ll get the hang of it. Once you’re in, you’re in. It’s like a found family thing, yeah? Doesn’t matter who you were before—if they let you in, they’re all in on you.”

For a moment, Pacifica didn’t say anything. She glanced around the room, at Mabel enthusiastically chatting with Melody, Soos laughing at one of Stan’s jokes, and Ford sitting with a faint but genuine smile as he flipped through his journal. It didn’t feel like a crowd—it felt like a unit, chaotic and warm and entirely unlike anything Pacifica had grown up with.

“Yeah,” Pacifica said softly, her lips curving into a small smile. “I think I’m starting to see that.”

Jade’s grin widened. “See? You’re smarter than you look.”

“Wow, thanks,” Pacifica said with a roll of her eyes, though her tone was light.

Wendy snorted, shoving Jade’s shoulder. “Don’t scare her off, jeez. I didn’t drag her all the way here for you to give her an existential crisis.”

“Scare her off?” Jade asked with mock offense. “I’m helping.” She turned back to Pacifica with a playful wink. “Trust me, you’ll do fine. Besides, you’re already leagues ahead of Wendy here. She’s still figuring out how to hold a chair upright.”

“Hey!” Wendy protested, though the smirk on her face betrayed her amusement.

Pacifica laughed, feeling the last of her nerves melt away.

The dining table was crowded with plates of homemade sandwiches, chips, and a big bowl of Melody’s signature pasta salad—a dish that had quickly become a favorite among the Shack crew. The tangy aroma of the dressing mixed with the smell of fresh bread, creating a surprisingly inviting contrast to the usual dusty atmosphere of the Shack.

Melody, dressed in a floral dress and a soft cardigan, radiated warmth as she set a plate in front of Pacifica. “It’s so nice to finally have a chance to sit and talk! And I have to say, you’re handling Soos-level enthusiasm like a pro.”

Soos, already mid-bite into an oversized sandwich, gave a muffled but enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Pacifica chuckled. “Thanks. I feel like it’s a skill you develop over time.”

Melody grinned. “That’s how I got through our first few dates.”

Soos swallowed and gasped. “Babe! You liked my enthusiasm! That’s what you said!”

Melody patted his arm playfully. “I do! In a ‘your excitement is adorable and I love you for it’ kind of way.”

Soos beamed at her, clearly taking the comment as a win.

As the meal went on, the conversation bounced between topics, and Pacifica found herself enjoying the easygoing energy of the group.

“Soos, I swear, if you try to fit a wrestling ring into the reception, I will revoke your planning privileges,” Melody said, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed the fact that she found the idea amusing.

“Aw, come on, babe,” Soos grinned. “Imagine the first dance and the first takedown happening at the same time.”

Pacifica couldn’t help but laugh. “Honestly? I kind of want to see that.”

“Right?” Soos gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “See, Melody? Pacifica gets it.”

Melody sighed dramatically but shook her head, laughing. “You’re both ridiculous.”

“But you love me anyway,” Soos said with a wide, goofy grin.

She rolled her eyes fondly. “Yeah, yeah.”

Across the table, Mabel gasped. “Pacifica! No! You’re supposed to be on my side when it comes to stopping Soos’ bad ideas!”

Pacifica smirked. “Sorry, Mabel, but if a wedding doesn’t have at least one ridiculous spectacle, is it really worth having?”

Mabel groaned, flopping against her chair. “Et tu, Northwest?”

Dipper watched the exchange with an amused shake of his head. Seeing Pacifica so at ease with the group? It felt right.

“So, how’s Dipper been treating you?” Wendy cut in, leaning forward with a knowing smirk.

Pacifica arched a brow. “Are you asking as his friend or as quality control?”

“Both.”

Jade chuckled beside her. “I dunno, Wendy, seems like they balance each other out. Nerdy but charming.”

“Hey!” Dipper protested, though the smirk on his face betrayed his amusement.

Pacifica laughed, feeling the last of her nerves melt away.

As the conversation continued, Ford leaned in slightly. “I must say, I’ve been impressed by what I’ve heard,” he said, directing his attention toward Pacifica. “Dipper wrote in Journal 3 about your involvement with the Northwest Manor incident.”

“Oh, that,” Pacifica said with a nervous laugh, but her expression brightened as she continued. “Yeah, that was… intense. But we stopped a Category 10 ghost and broke my family’s curse, so I’d say it turned out okay.”

Ford’s eyebrows rose. “A Category 10? That’s no small feat. How did you manage it?”

Pacifica launched into a brief but enthusiastic explanation, describing the events of the haunting with surprising energy. She detailed the use of the mirror, how she figured out the ghost’s weakness, and her decision to stand up to her family’s history of selfishness. Ford listened intently, nodding as she spoke.

“You showed remarkable courage,” Ford said when she finished. “Not many people—let alone someone so young—could handle something like that.”

Pacifica blushed slightly at the praise. “Well, I had a good team backing me up,” she said, glancing at Dipper.

Ford smiled and adjusted his glasses. “Still, it’s clear you’ve grown a great deal. I look forward to seeing what other challenges you’re capable of tackling.”

“Thanks,” Pacifica said softly, her smile lingering.

Dipper leaned against the back of his chair, watching as Pacifica laughed at something Soos said. She looked so at ease—chatting with Melody, teasing Mabel, even handling Ford’s questions with confidence. A few months ago, she would’ve been stiff and reserved, but now? She fit right in.

A smile crept onto his face.

“You are so obvious, dude.”

Dipper startled as Wendy appeared beside him, nudging him with her elbow.

“What? I—no, I was just—”

“Watching your girlfriend like some lovestruck dork?” Wendy finished, smirking. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Dipper groaned. “Come on, it’s not that bad.”

Wendy just raised an eyebrow, and Dipper sighed. “Okay, maybe it is. I just… I’m glad she’s fitting in, y’know? I wasn’t sure how she’d feel about all this.”

Wendy nodded. “Yeah, I get it. I was nervous about bringing Jade around, too.”

That got Dipper’s attention. “Really? You?”

Wendy shrugged. “I mean, it’s one thing for me to like her, but introducing someone to your people? That’s different. You hope it all clicks, but there’s always that little what if in the back of your mind.”

Dipper nodded. He did know that feeling.

Wendy took a sip of her drink. “But hey, she hit it off with everyone, and Pacifica’s doing the same. So maybe you should stop worrying so much.”

Before Dipper could respond, Pacifica glanced over and caught his eye. She gave him a small wave, her expression warm and happy.

Dipper waved back, feeling his chest tighten in a way that was definitely not normal.

Wendy snickered. “Yeah, you’re so gone for her.”

Dipper groaned again, but there was no hiding the goofy grin on his face.

As the plates were pushed aside and the group settled into a satisfied lull, Soos pulled out his phone to check the time. Almost immediately, he groaned. “Aw, man. I totally forgot—I was supposed to pick up that special order from the bakery today.”

Beside him, Melody’s eyes widened in realization. “We got so caught up in the lunch, I completely spaced.” She pressed a palm to her forehead.

“What’d you guys order?” Mabel asked, leaning forward curiously.

“Some fancy custom cupcakes,” Soos said.

“But I got an afternoon tour lined up, so I can’t dip out. And Mel’s got a meeting with the new supplier.” He frowned, rubbing his chin. “We could reschedule, but they were making them special.”

Dipper and Pacifica exchanged a look before Dipper shrugged. “We can go get them for you.”

Melody brightened. “Really? That would be amazing.”

Soos gasped, dramatically grabbing Dipper’s shoulders. “Dude. You are a lifesaver.”

Mabel smirked. “Suuure, you’re just being helpful. Not looking for an excuse to sneak off together at all.”

Pacifica rolled her eyes but smiled. “Oh, totally, Mabel. Because running an errand for Soos and Melody is so romantic.” She shot Dipper a playful glance. “Nothing like the sweet scent of flour to set the mood.”

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the parking lot. The occasional chirp of birds filled the quiet as Dipper and Pacifica strolled towards his car, neither in a rush to leave just yet.

Pacifica stretched her arms above her head, letting out a slow breath. “That actually went... really well.”

Dipper leaned against the passenger door, watching her with a small smile. “Yeah? You looked pretty comfortable in there.”

Pacifica let her arms drop, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “I was. Eventually. At first, though, I felt like any second someone was gonna tap a glass with a fork and be like, ‘Alright, Pacifica, nice try, but you don’t actually belong here.’”

Dipper frowned. “Hey, no one would—”

“I know,” she cut in, shaking her head. “I know that’s not how they see me. It’s just this stupid thing that still lingers, I guess. Old instincts.”

Dipper studied her for a second before tilting his head. “What changed?”

Pacifica glanced down, scuffing the toe of her boot against the pavement. “You.”

That made Dipper blink.

“I don’t know,” she went on, looking up at him now. “It’s like… the whole time, I could feel you right there. Even when we weren’t talking, even when you were off dealing with your weird sibling banter, I just—” She exhaled, frustrated at not being able to find the words. “You’re like my anchor or something.”

Dipper’s lips parted slightly, the weight of the statement settling between them. Then, after a beat, he grinned. “Happy to be your anchor. Even if it’s in a sea of pun-haters like Mabel.”

Pacifica huffed out a laugh, rolling her eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

“No, I’m anchored,” he quipped, wiggling his eyebrows.

She let out a groan. “And you had to ruin the moment.”

“Oh, please, you love it.”

Pacifica shook her head but smiled anyway, crossing her arms. “I tolerate it. Like how I tolerate Mabel stealing my fries, or Soos telling me stories with way too many unnecessary details.”

Dipper smirked. “Yeah, but now you’re admitting you tolerate me. So, progress.”

She sighed dramatically. “Guess I’m stuck with you.”

Dipper straightened up, hands on his hips. “Hey, if you’re really that annoyed, I could just stop making puns.”

Pacifica narrowed her eyes. “You could,” she echoed. “But you won’t.”

Dipper hesitated before breaking into a guilty grin. “Yeah, no, I absolutely won’t.”

Pacifica shook her head, stepping closer. “You really are ridiculous.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” he pointed out, voice softening just a little.

Pacifica met his gaze, the teasing fading into something quieter. More certain. “Yeah. I am.”

A slow, knowing smile spread across Dipper’s face.

The moment stretched between them, something unspoken settling in the air. A breeze picked up, ruffling their hair, and Pacifica absently tucked a loose strand behind her ear before gesturing to the car. “Come on, Captain Puns. We’ve got cupcakes to rescue.”

Dipper chuckled, pointing towards his car  with an exaggerated flourish. “Your chariot awaits.”

Pacifica rolled her eyes but climbed in, and as Dipper slid into the driver’s seat beside her, they shared a glance that said everything neither of them needed to say out loud.

They were exactly where they belonged.

Chapter Text

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the pavement as Dipper and Pacifica strolled down Main Street, their fingers loosely intertwined.

Pacifica idly swung their hands as she glanced over at him. “Okay, question. If you could time travel—but only once, and you can’t change anything—where would you go?”

Dipper hummed. “Do I get to interact with people, or am I just observing?”

“Observing,” Pacifica confirmed. “You’re basically a ghost.”

Dipper considered it. “Probably the moment the universe began. Just to see what actually happened.”

Pacifica snorted. “Nerd.”

“You asked,” Dipper shot back. “Besides, I already have time-traveled, so technically, I don’t even need a hypothetical.”

Pacifica raised an eyebrow but didn’t look all that shocked. “Yeah, that checks out.”

Dipper blinked. “Wait—you’re not even a little surprised?”

Pacifica shrugged. “Dipper, I’ve seen you take down a demon, fight tiny creatures that look like golf balls, and talk casually about the Multibear like you and him were besties in middle school. Time travel doesn’t sound that far fetched.”

Dipper sighed. “Okay, that’s fair.”

Pacifica smirked. “So? When did this happen?”

Dipper sighed. “It’s a long story. Basically, Mabel and I ran into this guy from the future named Blendin Blandin—he had this weird little suit, spoke like a bad sci-fi movie, the whole deal. Anyway, he had this device that let you travel through time, and I, uh… kinda borrowed it.”

Pacifica arched an eyebrow. “Borrowed?”

Dipper coughed. “Fine. Stole. Look, I had good reasons ! I thought I could fix a mistake, but every time I changed something, it just made everything worse. Eventually, I had to reset everything back to the way it was.”

Pacifica tilted her head slightly, studying him. “So… after everything, you chose to let things be?”

Dipper nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I could’ve kept trying to change things, but I realized that sometimes, no matter how much you want to, you can’t rewrite everything. You just have to… accept what is.”

Pacifica didn’t respond right away. Instead, she slowed her pace, gently tugging Dipper to a stop. When he turned to her, she was watching him with an expression that made his stomach flip—soft, thoughtful, like she was seeing something in him he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen in himself.

Then, without a word, she squeezed his hand a little tighter and leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Dipper felt his brain short-circuit.

Pacifica pulled back, her lips curving into a small smile. “That’s… really kind of amazing.”

Dipper opened his mouth to respond—only to find that words had completely abandoned him.

Pacifica laughed at his stunned expression and started walking again, tugging him along. “Come on. We’ve got cupcakes to pick up.”

Dipper blinked a few times before catching up, warmth still lingering where her lips had brushed his skin.

They turned a corner, still caught up in their moment, completely oblivious to the man sitting on a nearby bench.

Toby Determined slouched on the bench, scrolling through his phone with the exaggerated seriousness of a man who thought of himself as a very important journalist . A half-eaten sandwich rested on his knee, forgotten.

When he glanced up and spotted Dipper and Pacifica walking by—Pacifica smiling, Dipper looking like he’d just been electrocuted—his eyes widened. He scrambled for his camera, nearly knocking his sandwich onto the pavement.

Fumbling with the settings, he hastily snapped a picture.

The camera’s flash went off.

Toby froze.

Dipper and Pacifica kept walking, too lost in their own moment to notice.

Toby let out a relieved breath and inspected the picture. It was a little blurry, but the headline was already forming in his mind.

He muttered to himself, “ Ooooh, juicy… ” before picking up his sandwich and scurrying off to write his next big scoop.

Meanwhile, Dipper and Pacifica kept walking.

“Okay, next question,” Dipper said, clearing his throat, still trying to play it cool. “Same deal, but this time, you can interact with people.”

Pacifica smirked. “Easy. I’d go to some fancy party in the 1920s and start making up wild gossip about rich people.”

Dipper laughed. “That feels weirdly on-brand.”

“I have a skill set, okay?” Pacifica said, flipping her hair dramatically. “Might as well put it to use.”

They finally approached Sweet Tooth Bakery, a quaint little shop nestled between a florist and an antique store.

The pastel-painted sign swayed slightly in the breeze, and the scent of vanilla and cinnamon drifted through the air. It should have felt warm and inviting.

But the second they stepped inside, a chill ran down Dipper’s spine.

The air was thick. Heavy, almost. The sugary scent of baked goods was there, but something else lingered underneath. Something stale. Something cold.

Pacifica hesitated beside him, her fingers still laced with his. “Okay. Maybe it’s just me, but this place feels… weird.”

Dipper scanned the empty shop, his brow furrowing. The lights flickered faintly, and the soft hum of old-timey music crackled from a radio behind the counter.

No sign of the owner. No customers.

Just a whole lot of unease.

Dipper and Pacifica exchanged a look.

The stillness pressed in around them. The warm scent should’ve been comforting, but something about the air felt… off. Heavy. Like the room was watching them.

Pacifica rubbed her arms. “Okay. Either this place has a gas leak, or it’s haunted.”

Dipper’s eyes lit up. “You think it’s haunted?”

Pacifica turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “…Did you just get excited? ”

Dipper gestured around them. “Pacifica, look at this place! Flickering lights? Unexplained cold spots? The eerie old-timey music playing from nowhere ? Classic haunting vibes!”

Pacifica considered it, then smirked. “I mean, I was gonna suggest we run, but now that you mention it…” She turned toward the empty counter. “Alright, ghost! If you’re here, do something creepy and ominous in the next ten seconds, or we’re just gonna assume you’re lazy!”

Silence.

Then—

A thump. Followed by a whimper.

Dipper and Pacifica exchanged a glance.

Slowly, Dipper reached for the spot where he’d normally keep his journal—only to grab at empty air. Right. No ghost-hunting supplies. Because this was supposed to be a normal errand.

Then—

A man popped up from behind the counter, wide-eyed and disheveled. His hair stuck out at odd angles, like he’d been yanking on it. His apron—once white, now covered in flour and smudges—was wrinkled like he’d been using it as a blanket. The slightly crooked nametag on his chest read ‘Dale.’

“DON’T EAT MY SOUL!”

Pacifica clapped a hand over her mouth, but this time, she wasn’t laughing. Dipper took an instinctive step forward, hands raised. “Whoa, whoa, hey! We’re not ghosts!”

The man blinked at them, chest heaving. His flour-dusted apron was wrinkled like he’d been hiding behind the counter for a while , and his slightly crooked nametag read “Dale.”

Dale swallowed hard. “You’re… not?”

“Nope,” Dipper said, lowering his hands. “Just two very normal, very non-ghost people here to pick up some cupcakes.” He glanced at Pacifica. “And maybe also investigate the very real supernatural activity happening in your bakery.”

Pacifica nodded, looking Dale over. “How long have you been hiding down there?”

Dale rubbed his face. “Uh. I dunno. What day is it?”

Dipper and Pacifica exchanged another glance.

“…Monday?” Pacifica offered.

Dale groaned. “Oh, great. That means I’ve been hiding here since Friday. ”

Dipper’s eyes widened. “Dude.”

Pacifica softened. “That bad, huh?”

Dale nodded frantically. “I swear, ever since my Aunt Edna passed, weird stuff has been happening in here! Things moving on their own, lights flickering, and sometimes—” He lowered his voice, eyes darting around. “I hear her laughing. ”

At that moment, the lights overhead flickered twice.

Then a metal mixing bowl launched itself off a shelf, crashing onto the floor with a deafening clang.

Dale let out a noise that could only be described as a squeak and immediately ducked again.

Dipper and Pacifica, however, were practically vibrating with excitement.

Dipper turned to her, grinning. “Okay, now we’re talking.”

Pacifica nodded. “Full-blown haunted bakery? This is officially the best errand run ever.”

Dipper looked down at Dale, who was still curled up behind the counter. His excitement dimmed slightly. “Hey, uh… I know this is probably terrifying for you, but I promise we’ve handled stuff like this before.”

Pacifica crouched down, offering Dale a reassuring smile. “Yeah. We’re kind of really good at this sort of thing.”

Dale peeked up at them. “You mean… you can stop it?”

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, we can try to figure out why it’s happening.” He turned to Pacifica. “Maybe Aunt Edna’s not angry—maybe she’s just trying to tell him something?”

Pacifica nodded. “Could be unfinished business. Or maybe she’s just bored and likes messing with you.”

Dale paled. “That’s not comforting.”

Dipper patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry. Either way, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

The lights flickered again, this time in a slow, deliberate rhythm. A draft that shouldn’t exist in a closed room sent a rustling through the pages of an old recipe book on the counter.

Pacifica reached over and plucked up a wooden spoon, twirling it like a weapon.

“Should be a piece of cake.” she said with a grin.

The warmth of the bakery felt oddly stifled, like the room itself was holding its breath.

Pacifica ran a hand along the counter, her fingers brushing against a fine layer of flour. "Alright, so where exactly did the ghost stuff start happening?"

Dale, still peeking out from behind the counter, wrung his hands. "It started small—little things moving on their own, lights flickering, a cold spot by the oven. But then I started hearing her laugh. Aunt Edna had this... cackle. You’d know it if you heard it."

Dipper hummed, flipping open the recipe book that had rustled earlier. "Did she have any unfinished business? Anything she was really particular about?"

Dale groaned. "Her recipes. She was obsessed with getting them just right. But I’ve been following them! I mean, mostly. I had to change a few things—"

Pacifica turned sharply. "Changed how?"

"I—I adjusted the sugar amounts! And, okay, I might have started using a cheaper brand of butter, but come on, it’s all the same, right?"

The lights flickered violently. The old radio behind the counter crackled, distorting the sound of an old-timey tune.

Pacifica exhaled through her nose. "Oh yeah. That’s not ‘restless spirit’ energy. That’s ‘I am personally offended ’ energy."

Dipper nodded, eyes gleaming with excitement. "Alright, let’s start looking for clues."

Pacifica moved toward the kitchen with the ease of someone who had spent far too many hours in one. She absentmindedly straightened a pile of mixing bowls as she scanned the area. Dale, however, took one hesitant step before a rolling pin shot off the counter and smacked him in the leg.

Dale yelped, diving back behind the counter. "She’s mad! She’s so mad! "

Dipper barely contained a grin. "You okay?"

"No, I am not okay! I just got assaulted by cookware! "

Before Dipper could respond, Pacifica made a noise of disgust. "Oh, great. Classic horror movie move."

Dipper turned to see her pointing at the wall, where a message had appeared in what looked like dripping blood. The scrawled letters read:

FOLLOW THE RECIPE.

Dipper stepped forward, running a finger through the substance. Without thinking, he popped it into his mouth.

Pacifica gawked at him. "Did you—did you just taste the haunted wall blood?"

Dipper smacked his lips. "It’s jam."

Pacifica doubled over, laughing so hard she had to grip the counter. "Oh my god, I love how that didn’t even faze you! You just went for it!" She wiped at her eyes. "That was beautiful."

Dale, still cowering, stared. "How are you two like this?! "

Dipper, completely unfazed, turned back to the book. "Okay, so the message is clear. We need to make something exactly the way Aunt Edna intended. Pacifica, you up for it?"

Pacifica cracked her knuckles. "I’ve spent enough time in Greasy’s Diner to know my way around a kitchen. If this is a baking challenge, then let’s do this."

The moment she grabbed a mixing bowl, the air in the room seemed to settle—like the spirit was watching. Waiting.

Dale whimpered. "I hate this. I hate this so much."

Pacifica smirked as she tied an apron around her waist. "Relax, Dale. It’s just a little supernatural baking. How hard can it be?"

“You guys act like this is normal. This is not normal.” Dale whimpered.

Pacifica grinned as she flipped open the old recipe book. “Relax, Dale. We follow the recipe, we fix your ghost problem. Simple.”

Dipper skimmed the page. “Alright, it looks like Aunt Edna’s signature dish was… ‘Heavenly Raspberry Tarts.’”

At the mention of the name, the radio crackled, and a faint, eerie giggle drifted through the air. Dale made a sound like a dying cat. “Oh, that’s bad. That’s so bad.”

Pacifica ignored him. “Okay, flour, sugar, butter—” She stopped, eyes narrowing at the ingredients list. “Hold up. ‘Butter must be hand-churned and sourced from only the happiest cows?’ What does that even mean?”

Dale, still huddled behind the counter, mumbled, “She always swore she could taste emotions in food.”

Pacifica sighed. “Of course she did.”

Dipper flipped the page, scanning the notes scribbled in the margins. “There’s a lot of emphasis on doing everything exactly as written.” He turned to Dale. “How badly did you change it?”

Dale winced. “Uh… I used store-brand butter, cut down the sugar, and—” He hesitated, then muttered, “Swapped the raspberries for strawberry filling.”

Silence.

Then—

The overhead lights exploded.

Dale yelped and dove behind a stack of flour bags.

A cold gust rushed through the bakery, rustling pages and rattling mixing bowls. The radio whined, distorting into a low, warbling voice.

“RASPBERRIES.”

Dipper’s heart pounded. “Okay, okay! We get it! We’ll do it right!”

Pacifica was already moving, grabbing the right ingredients and setting them on the counter. “Geez, lady, it’s just a tart—”

The radio screeched.

Pacifica froze. “Uh. No offense.”

The temperature in the room steadied.

Dipper exhaled. “Alright. Let’s bake before she kills us.”

With Dale still cowering in the corner, Dipper and Pacifica set to work. Pacifica took charge, measuring ingredients with expert precision, while Dipper read the instructions aloud, double-checking every detail.

Everything was going smoothly—until the eggs.

Pacifica cracked one into the bowl. The moment the yolk hit the batter, the air pressure shifted. The radio let out a sharp click , and a grainy voice whispered, “Not fresh enough.”

The egg in the bowl shattered.

Pacifica cursed, jumping back as shell fragments scattered. Dipper swore under his breath.

Dale peeked out. “Told you she was picky.”

Pacifica groaned. “Where are we supposed to get fresher eggs?”

Dipper thought for a second, then turned to Dale. “You don’t happen to have a chicken, do you?”

Dale blinked. “…We have a chicken.”

Pacifica clapped her hands together. “Fantastic. Where is it?”

Dale swallowed nervously. “Uh… in the back.”

Pacifica raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Dale rubbed the back of his neck. “And… I might’ve stopped going back there. Because of, y’know, her .”

The temperature in the room dipped. A spoon rattled on the counter.

Dipper and Pacifica exchanged a look.

Pacifica sighed. “Of course.” She untied her apron, tossing it onto the counter. “Alright, let’s go meet the world’s most haunted chicken.”

Dale shot up. “Wait— you’re actually going back there?! ”

Dipper adjusted his hat. “If we don’t, this place stays haunted forever.”

Dale hesitated, then groaned. “Fine. But if I die, I’m coming back to haunt you. ”

Pacifica smirked. “That’s fair.”

The trio made their way to the back of the bakery. As soon as they reached the door leading to the storage room, the air grew thick, heavy. Dipper tried the handle. It creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room lined with shelves of flour, sugar, and baking supplies.

And at the very back, sitting in a small wire pen, was a plump, fluffy chicken.

The second Dipper stepped inside, the lights flickered. A shadow flickered against the far wall—tall and unmoving.

Dale made a strangled noise. “Oh nope. Nope, nope, nope.”

Pacifica, however, wasn’t fazed. She strode forward, hands on her hips. “Alright, ghost. We’re just here for an egg. You want us to follow the recipe, right?”

The radio in the main room crackled. A soft, almost amused chuckle echoed through the storage room.

Dipper felt the hairs on his arms rise. “I think that’s a yes.”

Pacifica knelt beside the chicken, who blinked up at her, completely unfazed by the ghostly activity. “Hey there, girly. You got an egg for us?”

The chicken gave a sleepy cluck and fluffed its feathers. Nestled beneath it was a single, perfectly round egg.

Dipper reached out slowly, hesitating for a second before picking it up. It was still warm.

The moment his fingers closed around it, the air in the room lightened. The shadow on the wall faded.

Dale let out a breath. “Oh, thank god. ”

Pacifica grinned, ruffling the chicken’s feathers. “Thanks, cutie. You might’ve just saved this bakery.”

The chicken clucked proudly.

With the egg in hand, they hurried back to the kitchen. The moment they stepped over the threshold, the lights steadied. The air was still. The ghost was waiting.

Pacifica cracked the fresh egg into the batter. This time, nothing shattered.

Dipper exhaled. “Alright. We’re back on track.”

For the next twenty minutes, they followed every step of Aunt Edna’s recipe exactly . Pacifica kneaded the dough with expert hands, rolling it out with the precision of someone who had definitely argued with a pastry chef before. Dipper kept a careful eye on the instructions, ensuring every detail was perfect.

Finally, the tarts were placed in the oven.

The second the door clicked shut, the entire room seemed to relax.

Dale peeked over the counter. “Did… did we do it?”

Dipper watched the oven, waiting. “We’ll know when they’re done.”

For the next fifteen minutes, they waited in tense silence. The warm scent of raspberries and buttery pastry filled the air.

And then—

Ding.

Pacifica pulled the tray out carefully. The tarts were perfect —golden, flaky, with a glossy raspberry filling that shimmered under the lights.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then—

A soft breeze, warm and familiar, rustled through the kitchen. The radio crackled—then, for the first time, played smoothly. The lights steadied, glowing warmly.

Dale’s jaw dropped. “Did… did we just perform an exorcism by baking ?”

Pacifica smirked. “You doubted us?”

Dipper grinned. “Looks like Aunt Edna just wanted her recipes done right.”

A soft, distant laugh echoed through the bakery— not eerie this time, but light, almost… pleased.

And just like that, the air settled completely.

Pacifica dusted off her hands. “Well. That was fun.”

Dale was still staring at the tarts. “I—I don’t even know what to say.”

Dipper clapped a hand on his shoulder. “How about ‘thank you’?”

Dale blinked. “Oh. Right. Thank you. ”

Pacifica smirked. “You’re welcome. Now, about those cupcakes—”

Dale practically threw the box at them. “On the house.”

Dipper laughed, catching the box. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

As they strolled down Main Street, the bakery fading into the distance, the golden light of late afternoon stretched their shadows across the pavement. Dipper ran a hand through his hair, still dusted with a fine layer of flour. His shirt had a faint smudge of jam on the sleeve—a casualty of their supernatural baking experiment.

Pacifica, walking beside him, flicked a stray egg shell from her blouse with an air of practiced indifference, though the slight smear of powdered sugar on her cheek somewhat ruined the effect.

“Okay, that was awesome. ”

Pacifica grinned. “Right?! We solved a haunting —with baking! ”

Dipper threw his hands up. “That’s, like, a new category of supernatural investigation! Ghost diplomacy through pastry!”

Pacifica laughed. “And you doubted my skills. Face it, Dipper—we make a pretty good team.”

Dipper smirked. “I guess you were kind of helpful.”

Pacifica gasped in mock offense. “Kind of?”

Dipper shrugged. “Okay, fine. You were, like… eighty percent of the solution.”

Pacifica flipped her hair dramatically. “That’s more like it.”

Dipper grinned, still riding the high of their success. “Seriously, though. I’m keeping notes on this for the next time we run into a food-based poltergeist.”

Pacifica snorted. “Oh, yeah, ‘cause that’s gonna happen all the time. ”

Before Dipper could respond, Pacifica’s phone buzzed. She glanced down—and immediately groaned.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. ”

Dipper frowned. “What?”

With a dramatic sigh, she turned the screen toward him.

Dad: What is the meaning of this?

Attached was a link.

GRAVITY FALLS GOSSIPER: Northwest Heiress Spotted With Town Hero! Romance Brewing?

And right at the centre of the article? A slightly blurry but very incriminating photo—Pacifica kissing Dipper on the cheek, while he stood there, wide-eyed, looking like his brain had just short-circuited.

Dipper froze. “Wait—what—when did—?!”

Pacifica scrolled down, groaning. “Ugh. ‘Photo Credit: Toby Determined.’ Of course. ”

Dipper buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god. ”

Pacifica sighed, staring at the message from her dad. The instinct to immediately start drafting some kind of damage control response tugged at her—deny, downplay, spin.

But… she didn’t want to.

Her mind drifted back to earlier that day—lunch at the Shack, easily slipping into the playful rhythm of the group.

She had been happy. Really happy.

And she hadn’t been worrying about appearances, or the Northwest name, or what anyone would think.

She was done hiding.

She glanced at Dipper, who was still groaning into his hands, and a quiet determination settled in her chest.

“…You know what?” she said.

Dipper peeked up. “What?”

Pacifica locked her phone and slid it back into her pocket. “I don’t care.”

Dipper blinked. “What?”

She let out a breath and gave him a small, confident smile. “I’m done keeping this a secret. I like you, Dipper. And I’m not gonna pretend I don’t just because my dad thinks it’s bad optics.”

Dipper studied her for a second, taking in the quiet certainty in her eyes. Then he smiled. “That’s… really cool of you.”

Pacifica smirked. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Dipper chuckled, warmth settling in his chest. “Well, I like you too. In case that wasn’t clear.”

Pacifica rolled her eyes. “Took you long enough.”

Dipper scratched the back of his neck, still pink. “Okay, but, uh… what about your dad?”

Pacifica shrugged. “He’s gonna have a fit, sure. But I don’t care. Let him freak out. I’m not letting him decide how I live my life anymore.”

Dipper’s heart did a weird little flip. “Wow.” He smiled, a little awed. “That’s really cool of you.”

Pacifica bumped his shoulder with hers. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Dipper chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, what a day. We investigated a haunted bakery, a ghost threw a rolling pin at someone, and now we’re the subject of small-town tabloid gossip.”

Pacifica sighed dramatically. “Never a dull moment.”

Dipper laughed, and together, they kept walking under the golden light of the late afternoon.

Chapter Text

A week had passed since Dipper and Pacifica’s relationship had been the talk of the town, thanks in part to The Gravity Falls Gossiper’s front page. At first, it had been impossible to go anywhere without hearing whispers. Some were amused, others skeptical, and a few downright scandalized—especially the older folks who still saw the Northwests as untouchable.

But as with most things in Gravity Falls, the town eventually moved on. The latest town gossip had erupted over whether the newly repainted water tower was blue or green, a debate that had somehow spiraled into complete chaos. Mayor Tyler declared an emergency town meeting. Families were divided. A local radio host went on a three-day hunger strike in protest of the entire paint industry. A bar fight at Skull Fracture ended with both sides agreeing that the real enemy was ‘that guy from the Public Access Channel’ . Meanwhile, the bowling alley permanently banned political discussions after a heated argument on the topic resulted in a 12-person brawl involving nachos, a stolen shoe, and the town’s only bowling trophy.

And just like that, Dipper and Pacifica could walk around without feeling like they were under a microscope.

For the first time, they didn’t have to hide.

Pacifica, for her part, seemed lighter. She no longer glanced over her shoulder whenever they held hands in public, nor did she brush off their relationship as something fleeting.

Dipper wasn’t sure if it was because of him—or if it was just her deciding, finally, to live her life on her terms. Either way, he liked seeing her like this.

The morning light filtered through the trees as Dipper’s car rattled along the winding road toward Northwest Mansion. He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, feeling the familiar nerves creep in despite himself. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been here before, but something about today—about picking her up for a wedding—felt different.

He adjusted his purple tie, glancing down at his outfit. Black trousers, a white button-up, a waistcoat. Mabel had practically tackled him before he left, trying to force the matching suit jacket onto him.

“Come on, Dipping Sauce! You gotta look maximum dapper for your first formal boyfriend duty!”

“It’s like ninety degrees out, Mabel!”

“Beauty is pain, bro!”

Dipper sighed at the memory, absently tugging at his collar. Yeah, no regrets leaving that jacket behind.

Before he knew it, the car rolled to a stop in front of the massive Northwest estate. Dipper stepped out, rolling his shoulders as he stared up at the towering structure. The mansion cast a long shadow in the afternoon sun, and despite the warm weather, a chill ran down his spine.

Alright, you’ve faced zombies, ghosts, and shapeshifters. What’s one rich, cranky old man?

He gulped, climbed the marble steps, and rang the doorbell.

A few moments later, the enormous front door swung open to reveal Preston Northwest, looking down at Dipper with an expression that suggested he had just stepped in something foul. The man’s frown was practically sculpted into his face, his arms crossed as he surveyed the boy standing on his doorstep.

Dipper forced a polite smile. “Hello, Mr. Northwest.”

Preston’s eyes narrowed. He exhaled sharply through his nose, like even acknowledging Dipper’s existence was an inconvenience. “Pines.”

Dipper waited for some kind of greeting. It never came.

Instead, Preston let his gaze flick over Dipper’s outfit before scoffing. “A three-piece suit. No jacket.”

Dipper blinked. “Uh… yeah?”

Preston shook his head. “Even when trying to present yourself decently, you still manage to fall short.”

Dipper resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Nice to see you too.”

Preston frowned, arms still crossed. “Just so you know, I am not happy about this.”

Dipper’s forced smile wavered. “I wasn’t expecting you to be.”

Preston let out a deep, tired sigh, rubbing his temples like Dipper’s presence alone was giving him a headache. “Do you even understand the ramifications of this relationship? You, a Pines—an amateur investigator—dating my daughter?” He practically spat the words. “You are tainting her reputation.”

Dipper’s eyebrows furrowed. “Tainting—seriously?”

“Do you have any idea how difficult it already is for this family to maintain its standing after the… incident with our ancestors?” Preston continued, nostrils flaring. “We’ve spent years salvaging our image, and now she’s parading around with you?”

Dipper crossed his arms. “Yeah, well, I don’t see Pacifica complaining about that.”

Preston scoffed. “She doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation. She’s young. Rebellious. Making foolish, impulsive choices.” His eyes narrowed. “Case in point—tonight.”

Dipper frowned. “Tonight?”

Preston exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this conversation physically pained him. “We were invited to the Thornborough Summer Gala. The most exclusive high-society event of the season. Governors, CEOs, foreign dignitaries—some of the most powerful and influential people in the country will be there. It’s a networking opportunity—one that could open doors for her future.” He let out a bitter chuckle. “And do you know what she told me when I reminded her of this?”

Dipper shifted uncomfortably. “Uh… no?”

Preston’s expression darkened. “ ‘I’d rather go to a wedding at the Mystery Shack. ’” He practically spat the words, like they physically hurt to say. “Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to explain to the Thornborough Family that my own daughter is skipping their event to attend a backwoods carnival sideshow?”

Dipper crossed his arms. “So… let me get this straight. You’re mad that she’d rather celebrate people she actually cares about than go shake hands with a bunch of rich strangers?”

Preston’s eye twitched.

Dipper rocked on his heels. “Yeah. I can totally see why that’d be a tough pill to swallow.”

Preston inhaled sharply through his nose, muttering something under his breath. Then, as if he had decided to double down on his grievances, he fixed Dipper with a hard stare and added, “And it’s not just this… this boycott of her own status. She’s still working at that diner.”

Dipper blinked. “Greasy’s?”

Preston clenched his fists. “Yes, Greasy’s,” he said with sheer disdain. “She could be spending her time polishing her public image, furthering her education, preparing for real opportunities. Instead? She’s writing down orders and serving coffee to truck drivers.” He let out a slow, deliberate breath, rubbing his temples. “Do you know what it’s like to hear people whispering about how my daughter is wiping down sticky tables for minimum wage?”

Dipper raised an eyebrow. “Uh… yeah? It’s called having a job.”

Preston’s eye twitched again. “It’s called making a spectacle of herself. She’s embarrassing herself. And me.”

Dipper let out a laugh. “Right. Because working an honest job is so much more shameful than being the town’s biggest snob.”

Preston’s jaw tightened. “Understand this, Pines,” he said coolly. “The only reason I haven’t publicly denounced this… sideshow romance is because of you.”

Dipper frowned. “Me?”

Preston’s lip curled. “Like it or not, you’ve made a name for yourself in this town. People talk about you. Admire you. You’re a so-called ‘hero.’” His voice dripped with disdain. “If I spoke out against you, it wouldn’t reflect poorly on you—it would reflect poorly on me. And I have no interest in looking like the villain in this ridiculous little story.”

Dipper raised an eyebrow. “So you do care about optics.”

Preston’s nostrils flared. “I care about my family’s reputation.” He sighed, shaking his head. “And Pacifica is determined to squander it.”

With an exasperated sigh, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and began flipping through crisp hundred-dollar bills.

“How much do you want to never contact my daughter again?” Preston asked flatly.

Dipper blinked, then scoffed. “Seriously?”

“Dad, are you being nice to him?” came Pacifica’s voice from inside the mansion.

Dipper leaned to the side, catching sight of her as she strode toward the doorway.

And, wow.

She wore a dark purple knee-length dress, elegant yet effortless, paired with sleek black heels. A pair of gold llama-shaped earrings dangled from her ears, catching the light as she moved. But what really caught Dipper’s attention was the silver necklace resting against her collarbone, the small pine tree pendant resting perfectly over her heart.

Dipper felt heat rush to his face.

Pacifica smirked, clearly noticing his reaction. “See something you like?”

Dipper coughed, looking away. “I mean—you look great.”

Pacifica chuckled, stepping past her father and linking her arm with Dipper’s.

Preston’s frown deepened. His gaze flickered to their linked arms, then back up to Pacifica. “Pacifica, be reasonable. You’re really going through with this?”

Her expression didn’t waver. “I’m seventeen, Dad.”

“Then start acting like it.” His voice hardened. “You have responsibilities. A reputation. And you’re throwing it away for what? Some—” he waved a dismissive hand at Dipper “—juvenile infatuation?”

Pacifica exhaled through her nose, tightening her grip on Dipper’s arm. “I don’t care what people think.”

Preston scoffed. “Of course you do. You’re a Northwest.”

She held his gaze. “Maybe it does mean something. But not the way you think.”

His jaw tensed. “And how exactly do you think it means?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Fear.” The word landed like a stone. “Fear of disappointing you. Fear of being a failure. Fear of losing everything if I didn’t do exactly what you wanted.”

For a fraction of a second, something flickered in Preston’s expression—an almost imperceptible crack in his perfect composure.

But then it was gone. He turned away sharply. “Fine. Go make a fool of yourself.”

Pacifica lifted her chin. “I won’t.” She stepped past him without looking back, but before reaching the door, she added, “But even if I did, at least it’d be my choice.”

Without another word, Preston’s frown deepened. “Hmph.” He didn’t argue. Didn’t yell. Just gave her a look—one she was all too familiar with. The one that said she wasn’t worth the effort. Then, without another word, he turned and slammed the door shut behind her.

“…Later,” Pacifica groaned with an annoyed sigh. She turned to Dipper, rolling her eyes. “Sorry about him.”

Dipper shook his head, still processing. “Hey, no worries. I was honestly surprised he even bothered to answer in the first place.”

Pacifica waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, that’s enough about him. We’ve got a wedding to get to.”

Dipper nodded, leading her back to the car. As they drove off, he sneaked another glance at her necklace—it looked similar to the one with the llama charm she’d given him earlier that summer.

Pacifica caught his gaze and smirked. “You keep staring at my chest. Should I be concerned?”

Dipper nearly choked. “What? No! I was looking at your necklace.”

Pacifica laughed. “Relax, I know.” She lifted the pendant between her fingers. “It’s new.”

Dipper cleared his throat, trying to recover. “It, uh… looks nice.”

Pacifica turned the pendant over, almost like she was rediscovering it for herself. “Yeah, I figured, you know… symmetry. You have the one I gave you. It felt weird not having the other half.”

Dipper let that sit between them for a second, his fingers drumming against the wheel. “Huh.”

Pacifica raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“I don’t know. Just… that’s kind of sweet.”

Pacifica scoffed. “Don’t make it weird.”

Dipper grinned, shaking his head. “You’re literally the one who got us both matching necklaces.”

Pacifica crossed her arms, feigning exasperation. “Okay, yeah, but it’s not like I made some grand romantic gesture. I just saw it and thought, ‘Hey, that’s kinda cute.’ ”

Dipper stole another glance at her. “Yeah, it is.”

Pacifica’s smirk faltered just slightly.

Dipper tapped the wheel. “So, just for the record, you’re absolutely sure you don’t regret skipping that gala? Big fancy dresses, expensive food, networking with out-of-touch billionaires—you’re missing out.”

Pacifica huffed, rolling her eyes. “God, you’re right. What was I thinking? Instead of sipping overpriced drinks, eating caviar, and making small talk with insufferable rich people, I’m stuck here with you, going to a wedding in the woods. Huge mistake.”

Dipper smirked. “Yeah, I figured.”

Pacifica exhaled, looking out at the trees as they passed. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “I think I just… wanted to be somewhere real tonight, you know?”

Dipper glanced over at her. “Yeah,” he said. “I get that.”

A pause.

Pacifica looked down at her necklace again, running her thumb over the charm. Then, almost absentmindedly, she reached across the seat and took Dipper’s hand.

Dipper blinked, his heart doing a weird little stutter. He glanced at their intertwined fingers, then at her, but she didn’t look at him. Just kept staring out at the trees, her expression unreadable.

For once, Dipper didn’t overthink it. He just squeezed her hand back.

Pacifica let out a small breath, like she’d been holding it in. “Guess I ended up exactly where I was supposed to be.”

Dipper smiled. “Yeah.”

Dipper kept his eyes on the road, but his thumb absently brushed over Pacifica’s knuckles. The weight of her hand in his was a quiet, steady thing, grounding him in a way he wasn’t sure he could put into words.

Pacifica stayed silent for a long moment, watching the trees blur past. Then, almost lazily, she said, “You ever think about the butterfly effect?”

Dipper glanced over. “Like, chaos theory? One small event changing the entire course of the future?”

She hummed in agreement. “Yeah. I mean, think about it. If my great-great-whatever-grandfather never scammed this town, I wouldn’t be here. If my parents weren’t obsessed with their reputation, maybe I wouldn’t have felt the need to push back so hard. And if you and your sister never came to Gravity Falls…” She trailed off, twisting her necklace between her fingers.

Dipper tilted his head. “Then what?”

Pacifica smirked. “Then maybe I’d be at some fancy prep school in New York right now, networking with the next generation of billionaires, laughing politely at terrible jokes, wearing something expensive and uncomfortable, sipping champagne and pretending to have opinions on politics.”

Dipper made a face. “That sounds unbearable.”

“I know, right?” She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “But that’s what my life was supposed to be. And somehow, I ended up here. In your stupid car, holding your stupid hand, on the way to a wedding at a tourist trap in the woods.”

Dipper raised an eyebrow. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Pacifica snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Congratulations, babe. You successfully derailed my preordained high-society lifestyle.”

He smirked, squeezing her hand slightly. “No refunds.”

She didn’t answer right away. Just tapped her thumb against his, thoughtful. Then, voice quieter, she said, “I think I like this timeline better.”

Dipper felt something shift in his chest—like a quiet click of something falling into place. He swallowed, flexing his grip on the wheel. “Yeah. Me too.”

They drove in comfortable silence for a while.

Then Pacifica turned to him again, expression unreadable. “Hey, just to be clear—if my dad ever offers you money again, you should totally take it.”

Dipper choked. “What?!”

She shrugged. “You could at least pretend to consider it. String him along a little. Maybe negotiate for a cool million.”

Dipper gawked at her. “You’re joking.”

“I’m just saying, if he’s dumb enough to try and bribe you, you might as well make it interesting.”

Dipper shook his head, laughing under his breath. “You’re unbelievable.”

Pacifica smirked, leaning back in her seat. “And yet, here you are.”

Dipper exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he turned onto the gravel road leading to the Mystery Shack. “You know, if I ever did take your dad’s bribe, I’d probably just use the money to mess with him.”

Pacifica perked up. “Oh? Do tell.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’d buy a billboard in town that says, ‘Pacifica Northwest Works at Greasy’s Diner and is Surprisingly Good at It.’ ”

Pacifica snorted. “Wow. So generous of you to say I’m surprisingly good.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to humble you some more.”

She gave him a light shove. “I’ll have you know I’m excellent at my job.”

“Right, my bad. I should’ve put ‘world-class waitress’ on there.”

Pacifica grinned. “That’s better.”

The tires crunched over the gravel as the Shack came into view. It was already bustling—lanterns hung from the trees, music drifted through the air, and guests mingled around the property, laughter and chatter mixing in with the sounds of the forest.

Dipper and Pacifica walked up to the entrance of the Mystery Shack, the place buzzing with last-minute wedding preparations. Just outside, Toby Determined was in the middle of a pitiful argument with the event staff, clutching a crumpled wedding invitation like it was a winning lottery ticket.

"This is a mistake! I got invited! I RSVP’d and everything!" he whined, jabbing at the paper with a shaking finger. His usual disheveled appearance was even worse than normal—his eye swollen with a fresh bruise, and across his forehead, scrawled in what looked like permanent marker, were the words ‘TABLOID HACK.’

The staff member at the door sighed. "Sir, your invitation was revoked. Now, please leave."

"You can’t do this to a respected journalist!" Toby protested, though his voice lost all its bravado when he glanced around nervously and spotted Stan and Ford walking out of the Shack, chatting casually. He paled, his mouth snapping shut. Without another word, he turned on his heel and scurried away like his life depended on it, still clutching his useless invitation.

Dipper blinked, a memory surfacing. Less than a week ago, after the picture of him and Pacifica had made the news, he’d overheard Stan muttering about going to have a talk with Toby. Ford had nodded in agreement. Now, seeing the evidence quite literally written across Toby’s forehead, Dipper put two and two together. He decided not to question it.

Before he could dwell on it any longer, a familiar voice cut through the air. "Well, well, look at you two."

Dipper turned to see Wendy and Jade standing nearby. Wendy had swapped out her usual flannel for a black suit and a red tie, her red hair swept back in a loose, effortless style. Jade, standing just as tall beside her, wore a deep plum dress with an asymmetrical hem, her combat boots somehow making the look work. The usual collection of pins from her leather jacket now adorned the strap of her dress, and her mossy green-tipped hair framed her freckled face.

"You guys clean up nice," Wendy said, smirking as she elbowed Dipper lightly. "Didn’t think you even owned a tie."

"Why is that a shock to you?" Dipper asked with a grin, adjusting the knot self-consciously.

Jade chuckled. "C’mon, Wendy, give him some credit—he at least tried."

Pacifica rolled her eyes. "Yeah, with a little help."

Wendy snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s get inside before Mabel sends out a search party."

Chapter Text

The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled light over the path leading to the Shack’s lawn. The faint hum of chatter drifted from the gathered guests, but for now, it was just the four of them—Dipper, Pacifica, Wendy, and Jade—walking at an easy pace, the moment calm and comfortable.

“You know,” Wendy said, glancing over at Soos in the distance, “it’s kind of weird, seeing Soos all grown up and getting married. Feels like just yesterday he was running around here fixing vending machines and laughing at fart jokes.”

“Still does that,” Dipper said with a small grin. “But yeah… it’s kinda cool. Seeing him this happy.”

Pacifica smiled, her arm brushing against Dipper’s. “It’s sweet. They really fit, don’t they?”

“They do,” Jade agreed, hands stuffed in the pockets of her leather jacket. She shot a look toward Wendy, her dark eyeliner making the glance seem sharper than it was. “Makes you wonder if there’s hope for the rest of us.”

Wendy chuckled, though her eyes flicked toward Dipper and Pacifica with curiosity. “Maybe we should test that theory. What do you say, double date sometime?”

Pacifica’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that would be fun! We should totally do that.”

Jade grinned, casual and cool. “Sure. Sounds like a laugh. Right, Dipper?” She bumped his shoulder lightly, teasing. “We’ll do it to keep our girls happy.”

Dipper laughed, shaking his head. “What makes you think I need convincing? I’m in. Sounds fun.”

“Good answer,” Pacifica said, her tone playful but warm. She slid her arm through his, her fingers brushing against his wrist.

Wendy smirked, her hands tucked into her pockets. “Look at you, all agreeable. Almost like you’re growing up.”

“Don’t push it,” Dipper shot back with a grin, and the group shared a light laugh.

As they neared the edge of the lawn, the quiet hum of the gathering became clearer—laughter, soft music, the rustle of conversation. The kind of small-town warmth that Dipper hadn’t realized he missed until now.

“It’s kind of… nice, right? Seeing people find their place. Find each other.” Pacifica said softly as they reached the chairs.

Dipper glanced at her, his smile small but real. “Yeah. It is.”

The four of them slipped into seats near the back, the sun casting long shadows across the aisle. The lawn was filled with familiar faces—some friends, some strangers, all gathered for the same reason. The townsfolk had shown up in full force, dressed in mismatched formal wear that somehow suited Gravity Falls. Flannel shirts tucked under suit jackets, scuffed boots peeking out beneath dresses, and more than one guest who looked like they’d just stepped away from their workbench to attend.

Mabel sat near the front, bouncing in her seat with barely contained excitement, her hair pinned back with sparkly clips that caught the light. She wore a bright, floral-patterned dress that swished with every movement, paired with a chunky, glittery necklace and a tiny clutch shaped like a rainbow. Candy and Grenda flanked her—Candy adjusting her camcorder, her sleek pastel dress complemented by tech-inspired jewelry, pixel-heart earrings glinting as she moved. Grenda, in a simple, sleeveless dress in a bold color paired with chunky boots and a leather bracelet, leaned in to whisper something that made them both giggle.

Old Man McGucket sat nearby, his beard freshly combed for the occasion, though his tie looked like it had been tied by a particularly confused raccoon. He gave a toothy grin to anyone who caught his eye. Lazy Susan dabbed at her eyes with a napkin, her cat-themed dress vibrant under the late afternoon sun. Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland stood off to the side, their uniforms swapped out for ill-fitting suits, though Durland still wore his badge pinned proudly to his lapel.

Soos’ Abuelita sat in a place of honor, hands folded neatly in her lap, her kind eyes shining with pride. She wore a simple, elegant shawl and looked like she’d spent hours making sure every strand of hair was perfectly in place. Every so often, she glanced at Soos with a warmth that could melt steel.

Stan and Ford stood near the front. Ford looked sharp in a pressed suit, though his expression was distracted, as if his mind kept wandering back to some great scientific problem. Stan, meanwhile, stood with his arms crossed, his face unreadable. But his eyes never left Soos. There was something steady there—quiet pride beneath the gruff exterior. Soos had always looked up to Stan, seen him as something of a father figure. And now, it was clear Stan felt the weight of that, even if he didn’t say it aloud.

The music started, soft and lilting, and the scattered chatter faded into an expectant hush.

Melody appeared at the end of the aisle, her dress simple and flowing, hair gathered loosely at her shoulders. She looked radiant—not in a staged or grand way, but real. The kind of beauty that came from knowing you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

Soos stood beneath an archway decorated with wildflowers and string lights. His tie was slightly crooked, his hands fidgeting nervously, but the moment his eyes met Melody’s, he stilled. And then he smiled. The kind of smile that came from deep down, from knowing this was it—this was everything.

“He looks nervous,” Pacifica whispered, leaning close.

“Yeah,” Dipper murmured. “But happy.”

Pacifica’s hand brushed against his, and Dipper turned his palm over, letting their fingers find each other, slotting together in that easy, natural way.

The ceremony was simple, imperfect, and entirely them. The microphone buzzed, cutting out once or twice. The wind threatened to topple the flower arch, and Soos nearly dropped the ring. Twice. Melody laughed, brushing his hand to steady it, her gaze sure and warm, like none of it mattered.

A soft chuckle rippled through the crowd, Lazy Susan whispering a loud “Aww,” while McGucket let out an enthusiastic, “That’s love, right there!” The laughter wasn’t mocking—it was warm, like everyone there was rooting for them.

Stan’s laugh was the loudest, rough but genuine. Not teasing, but proud. Like a man watching someone he loved stand tall in his own way.

Dipper felt Pacifica’s fingers squeeze gently around his, and when he looked at her, she wasn’t watching the ceremony. She was watching him. Her gaze was soft, thoughtful, as though she was taking in the moment for what it was—simple and good.

The officiant’s words blurred together, warm and familiar, until finally they reached the moment.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Soos didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward and kissed Melody, simple and sure. It wasn’t dramatic, but it didn’t need to be. It was love, quiet and certain, and it felt like the entire world paused just long enough to let it happen.

Applause broke the moment, loud and genuine. Mabel cheered, Candy snapped a photo, and McGucket whooped. Lazy Susan clapped with teary eyes, and Abuelita pressed her hands to her mouth, beaming. Even Blubs and Durland shared a quick, teary-eyed hug.

Stan’s smile was small but real. Just for a moment.

“They did it,” Pacifica said, her voice low but steady.

Dipper glanced at her, his thumb brushing across the back of her hand. “Yeah. They did.”

For a second, they just sat there, letting the joy and warmth settle around them. Watching as Soos and Melody turned to face their friends and family, beaming like the world had shifted into place.

The reception was in full swing, laughter and music blending in the background. Dipper and Pacifica are standing near the edge of the dance floor, sipping drinks and watching the guests. They were both lost in their own little worlds, to the point where neither one of them noticed Mabel, Candy, and Grenda approaching, all grinning with mischievous energy.

Mabel clasped her hands together, eyes sparkling as she turned to Dipper and Pacifica. “Soooo… lovebirds. When are you two gonna hit the dance floor?”

Dipper chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

Pacifica nods in agreement, her smile a little guarded. “Same. We’re more… sit-back-and-watch kind of people.”

Grenda gives them a playfully skeptical look. “Really? You’re just gonna sit there? C’mon, it’s a wedding! That’s, like, dancing central!”

Candy adjusts her glasses, eyes glinting with curiosity. “Statistically, dancing at weddings is correlated with increased levels of joy.”

Mabel leans closer, waggling her eyebrows. “And increased levels of adorable couple vibes.”

Dipper laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I think we’re good on adorable vibes for today.”

Pacifica chuckles, giving Dipper a teasing side-eye. “Yeah, we’re keeping our dignity intact.”

Mabel gasps in mock horror. “Dignity? Dipper, did you hear that? She thinks you have dignity!”

Dipper shoots her a playful glare. “Wow. Thanks, Mabel. Appreciate it.”

Grenda crosses her arms, grinning. “Alright, but when you change your minds, we’ll be watching.”

Candy nods. “And we will document it.”

Mabel winks dramatically. “It’s only a matter of time.”

Pacifica smirks, linking her arm through Dipper’s. “We’ll take our chances.”

As the girls wander off, laughing and whispering, Dipper leans closer to Pacifica. “They’re definitely going to try something, aren’t they?”

Pacifica grins. “Definitely.”

Dipper sighs with mock dread. “We’re doomed.”

Pacifica grinned, slipping her arm through his. “Might as well enjoy the calm before the storm.”

Time passed in a warm, easy blur. The evening air was cool, but the soft glow of string lights overhead and the hum of laughter kept the atmosphere bright. The scent of food lingered, mingling with the fresh smell of pine, and the steady murmur of conversations carried across the courtyard.

Dipper and Pacifica wandered between clusters of guests, pausing to chat and share in the small joys of the evening.

They stopped by Soos and Melody, who stood near the buffet, Soos enthusiastically pointing out his favorite snacks.

“So, like, these little mini tacos? Absolute game-changer,” Soos said, popping one into his mouth. “I’d marry them if I wasn’t already locked down.”

Melody laughed, leaning into him with a fond smile. “Good thing I’m okay with being second place to tacos.”

Dipper chuckled. “At least you know where you stand.”

Pacifica smiled, snagging a taco from the table. “Honestly, I respect the commitment.”

Their next stop was near the bar, where Wendy and Jade stood together, drinks in hand. Wendy’s arm rested lazily around Jade’s waist, casual but unmistakably affectionate. Jade leaned into her, her head tilting slightly toward Wendy’s shoulder, the comfort between them obvious but easy.

“Look at you two,” Wendy said as Dipper and Pacifica approached, giving them an easy grin. “Mingling. Didn’t expect that from you.”

Dipper shrugged, glancing at Pacifica. “Turns out it’s easier when you’ve got backup.”

Pacifica smiled, raising her glass slightly. “I make him look cooler by association.”

Jade chuckled. “She’s doing a lot of heavy lifting.”

Dipper laughed, shaking his head. “You’re not wrong.”

Wendy gave them an approving nod. “Well, you’re blending in alright. Pretty soon, people are gonna think you’re the life of the party.”

Pacifica gave a playful smile. “Let’s not get carried away.”

They exchanged a few more jokes, easy and light, before drifting on.

They passed by a quiet corner of the Shack‘s exterior, where string lights cast a soft, warm glow over the worn wooden beams. Stan stood there with a drink in hand, leaning casually against the railing as he watched the reception unfold. His eyes landed on Dipper and Pacifica, and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Well, well. Look at you two. Can’t decide if you’re hiding or holding court.”

Pacifica chuckled. “A little of both.”

Dipper glanced at him, then hesitated for a second. “I saw you during the ceremony. You looked… proud.”

Stan snorted, but it didn’t carry much weight. “Yeah, well. Weddings get to you. Seeing Soos up there, looking like he’s got everything figured out. Makes you think.”

There was a pause, the kind of moment that lingered heavier than words. But Stan shook it off with a sip of his drink.

“And you two,” he added, tipping his glass slightly toward them. “You clean up alright. Look like you belong here.”

Pacifica’s smile softened. “Thanks, Stan.”

He gave a small shrug, though his gaze lingered just a little longer. “You know, I might not always say it, but… you two fit. That’s good.”

Dipper blinked, surprised but smiling. “Thanks, Grunkle Stan.”

Stan waved him off with a mock scowl. “Alright, don’t get mushy on me. Just saying, you’re making an old man proud.”

There wasn’t much more to say, and Stan seemed content to let the moment settle into the late afternoon atmosphere.

Eventually, Dipper and Pacifica slipped away, finding one of the quieter corners of the reception. A small cluster of tables sat beneath the glow of string lights, the soft hum of conversation fading into the background.

Pacifica leaned back in her seat, sipping her drink, her eyes following the easy rhythm of the evening.

“You’re good at this,” Dipper said quietly.

She glanced over. “At what?”

“Being… social. Comfortable. Like you belong here.”

She gave a small, thoughtful smile. “Maybe I’m just good at pretending.”

Dipper chuckled lightly, but his gaze lingered. “You’re convincing.”

She tilted her head, considering him for a moment. “You make it easier.”

It wasn’t a big moment, but it felt like one. The kind of quiet exchange that meant more than either of them said aloud.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the murmur of laughter, the distant crackle of the fire, the soft rhythm of music drifting through the night air.

The music playing was mellow, fading into the background hum of conversation. Couples swayed gently, and others lingered at the tables, caught in easy conversations.

Then the music changed.

The opening notes hit, bright and unmistakable.

Disco girl, coming through,

That girl is you,

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh,

Dipper’s head snapped toward the DJ booth. Mabel stood there, hands clasped innocently in front of her, but the grin on her face was pure mischief.

She caught his eye and mouthed, “You’re welcome,” throwing him a thumbs-up.

Dipper’s jaw tightened, a mixture of exasperation and secret amusement bubbling under the surface. He shook his head slightly, but despite himself, he felt a grin creeping onto his face.

Pacifica’s eyes lit up. “No way. I love this song!”

Dipper blinked, genuinely surprised. “You love BABBA too? How have we never talked about this?”

“Guess we’re still learning about each other,” Pacifica said with a teasing smile.

Dipper stood, offering his hand. “In that case… care for this dance, m’lady?”

“Obviously.”

Pacifica took Dipper’s hand, her fingers cool and sure against his. She stood with that easy, natural confidence, and for a second, Dipper wondered how he’d ever thought she wasn’t the dancing type.

They stepped onto the dance floor, blending in with the crowd. Most people were too busy laughing, chatting, or celebrating Soos and Melody to pay attention. It wasn’t about them—it wasn’t supposed to be.

And maybe that made it easier.

Dipper hesitated, but Pacifica didn’t miss a beat. She placed one hand lightly on his shoulder, the other resting in his. “Relax. It’s just dancing. Not rocket science.”

“Sure,” Dipper said, clearing his throat. “But if I step on your foot, that’s on gravity.”

Pacifica laughed, light and genuine. “I’ll risk it.”

They started to move, a little awkward at first—Dipper stiff, Pacifica gently leading. But as the beat picked up, something shifted. Pacifica gave him a playful spin, and Dipper stumbled but laughed, finding his rhythm.

“You’re better at this than you let on,” she teased.

“I’m a man of many mysteries,” he said, grinning.

“Like your secret love for BABBA?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I was gonna take that to my grave.”

“Well, too late. Now I know, and I’m gonna hold it over you forever.”

There was a softness to the way she said it, like a little secret shared between just the two of them.

The music wrapped around them, warm and bright. No big spotlight. No audience. Just the two of them, moving like no one was watching.

For a second, Dipper just watched her. The way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, how her hair caught the glow of the string lights. And it hit him, quiet but sure—this was the happiest he’d ever seen her. And maybe the happiest he’d ever been.

Chapter Text

The sun was dipping below the treetops, stretching streaks of pink and orange across the sky, melting into the deep blue of twilight. The wedding reception had quieted, though a few guests lingered, unwilling to let the night end just yet.

Mabel was still pleading with the DJ— one more song, just one more, I swear! —while Candy and Grenda hovered near the buffet table, strategizing over the last slices of wedding cake. Wendy, Jade, and Ford stood around Stan, listening with skeptical amusement as he passionately retold the story of how he definitely won a mysterious competition called the Funkle Bunkle.

Dipper and Pacifica, however, had drifted away from the remnants of the celebration, seated together at a quiet table on the Shack’s lawn, away from the string lights and the last bursts of music.

Dipper had discarded his tie and waistcoat earlier in the evening, leaving his sleeves rolled up and his top buttons undone. Pacifica’s heels sat abandoned on the table beside them, forgotten in favor of comfort. A cool breeze whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of pine and grass, mingling with the lingering sweetness of cake and champagne.

In front of them, Soos and Melody swayed gently in the grass, wrapped in their own little world.

Pacifica tilted her head, watching them. “You ever think that’ll be us someday?”

Dipper, mid-sip of soda, immediately choked. He coughed violently, gripping the edge of the table.

Pacifica smirked. “Wow. Strong reaction.”

Dipper cleared his throat, eyes wide. “I just— excuse me?”

She gave him an innocent look. “I’m joking, nerd.”

He exhaled, shooting her a dry look. “You’re the worst.”

Pacifica leaned in slightly. “And yet, here we are.”

Dipper rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. Their laughter faded as they met in the middle, sharing a soft, lingering kiss. It was natural, like a rhythm they had fallen into without thinking.

When they pulled away, Pacifica studied him for a moment before smirking. “You know Mabel already started planning our wedding, right?”

Dipper groaned, tilting his head back. “Oh, without a doubt.”

“She probably has a Pinterest board.”

“She definitely has a Pinterest board.”

“With colour-coded sections.”

“And spreadsheets.”

Pacifica shuddered. “Terrifying.”

Dipper sighed dramatically. “Our future is in grave danger.”

Pacifica chuckled, but then her expression softened. She glanced out at the trees, the sky now streaked with deep purples and fading gold. “Still… we kept us a secret for this whole summer.” She turned back to him, tucking her hair behind her ear. “But this is better.” A pause, then, more quietly—like she was only realizing it as she said it—“I have never been so happy in my life.”

Dipper felt his heart tighten, in that way it always did when she caught him off guard like this. He turned his hand over, lacing his fingers through hers.

“Yeah,” he said, voice low. “Me too.”

They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the hum of crickets and the distant chatter of the last remaining guests. The quiet between them was warm, familiar.

Pacifica let out a small breath, tilting her head against his shoulder. “It’s weird, though, right? Keeping things secret all summer, and now… it’s just out there.”

Dipper nodded. “Yeah. For weeks, it felt like something we had to protect, like if too many people knew, it would stop feeling real.”

Pacifica glanced up at him. “And does it?”

Dipper shook his head. “No.” He smiled slightly. “It feels more real.”

Pacifica hummed, playing with the fabric of his sleeve. “I think a part of me was scared,” she admitted. “Not about us —just… what people would say.”

Dipper nodded, because he got it. She’d spent most of her life under a microscope, judged for everything she did, expected to meet some impossible standard of perfection. Their relationship had been something just for them —and stepping out into the open with it had been a risk.

But now?

Now they were here, together, watching the sunlight slip away. And none of it felt scary anymore.

“I spent so much time thinking about what other people expected of me,” Pacifica murmured. “I don’t think I ever really let myself figure out what I actually wanted.”

Dipper squeezed her hand. “And what do you want?”

She looked at him, really looked at him, her expression soft and open in a way it rarely was. “This,” she said simply. “You.”

Dipper swallowed, warmth flooding his chest. “Good,” he said, a little breathless. “Because you’re kind of stuck with me now.”

Pacifica smirked. “I know.”

The sky had darkened completely now, stars flickering to life above them. The only sounds were the quiet rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant murmur of the last few guests. Time seemed to stretch, as though the universe was in no hurry to move forward.

Dipper shifted slightly, stretching his legs out under the table, still holding Pacifica’s hand in his. There was a certain stillness to the moment—a peace that settled between them, as if everything they’d been through, all the awkward moments, the fear, the uncertainty, had somehow led to this. And in this quiet, he couldn’t help but think about what it all meant.

“So,” he started, his voice casual but the weight of his words making it feel heavier, “now that we’re not hiding anymore…”

Pacifica glanced at him, her head tilted slightly as she waited for him to finish. The faint glow of the string lights illuminated her face, but it was the stars above that seemed to light up her eyes.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice soft, thoughtful. “Feels weird, doesn’t it? Not having to look over our shoulders anymore. Not pretending.”

Dipper nodded, glancing out at the glowing horizon. “It does. I kept thinking it would feel… I don’t know, less real. Like maybe I’d get caught in the middle of all the secrets and it would crumble.”

“Yeah, like it was too good to be true,” Pacifica added quietly.

“I guess I thought the same.” He smiled faintly. “But here we are. No more secrets.”

There was a pause as they let that settle in. The weight of it was still there, but now it felt like it was a weight they could carry together.

“I’m glad it’s out in the open,” Pacifica finally said, her fingers squeezing his hand lightly. “I don’t have to hide anymore.” She glanced at him, eyes soft. “We get to be us.”

Dipper’s heart swelled a little at the sincerity in her voice. The way she was looking at him, like this was exactly where she was meant to be. “I don’t think I’ve ever really let myself just… be, you know? Like, not have to think about what people expect from me.”

She smiled. “I get that. It’s been like that for me too. Always having to be perfect, always having to follow the rules. But now…” She glanced at the stars above them, her fingers idly tracing the edge of her glass. “Now it’s like everything’s different. Not because it’s perfect, but because it’s real. We’re real.”

“And we’re not going anywhere,” Dipper added with a soft grin. “This isn’t some summer fling. We’re not just going to… fade away when the season ends.”

Pacifica looked at him, her smile curling a little as she processed his words. “You really mean that?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah. I do.”

Her fingers brushed against his, intertwining once more. The feeling of her hand in his was comforting, grounding. No longer secret, no longer hidden. It was as if everything had led them to this moment, and here they were, fully in it.

They sat in silence for a few beats, simply enjoying the night, the sound of their breathing and the soft rustling of the trees around them. There were still remnants of the party—laughter in the distance, the last of the music drifting through the air—but it felt like they were in a world of their own. A small corner of time that was just for them.

“What happens now?” Dipper asked, breaking the quiet.

Pacifica leaned back, her eyes on the sky. “We just… keep going,” she said, a little dreamily. “See where it takes us.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, her gaze returning to him. “Yeah. I mean, we’ve already been through the hardest part. The rest is just life. And I think… I think I’m ready for it.”

Dipper studied her, his chest tightening a little at the certainty in her voice. This was it. They were in it for real now. No more hiding, no more second-guessing.

“I’m ready too,” he said quietly, looking up at the stars above them. “Whatever comes next, I’m ready.”

She smiled, a soft, knowing look in her eyes. “We’ll figure it out together.”

The stars filled the sky, their soft light reflecting the calm between them. The quiet hum of the night wrapped around them, the air cool and gentle. Neither of them said anything, but it didn’t matter. The world seemed to pause, just for them.

Dqg wkhb erwk olyhg kdsslob hyhu diwhu. Exw, wkdw’v d vwrub iru dqrwkhu gdb.