Volume 1Act 1 – Chapter 10 Too Soon to Speak
Good Kid EP 4 – Dance Class
Dipper stirred awake; his vision hazy as he blinked at the room around him. Blankets and pillows lay scattered, a confetti storm clinging to the walls. His head throbbed, courtesy of Mabel and her friends' endless chatter about boys and high school drama. He looked around the room and—
Wait, is that glitter on the wall?
He sighed, tossing the sheets aside, rubbing his forehead while he stumbled out of bed. out of bed. The room was a complete mess, almost as if a tornado had run through it. Half played board games and trash from various snacks covered the floor. To say that the sleepover last night was chaotic would be an understatement. He could feel his body begging him to fall back asleep, the bags under his eyes dragging him down with temptation. He ran his hand through his hair, looking at the mess around him.
I am not cleaning this up….
Mabel, Candy, and Grenda had practically destroyed the room, their absence in the morning making it even more apparent. Dipper grabbed his hoodie off the foot of his bed and slipped it on. He headed out the door and downstairs to see what was going on, and to get some food while he was at it.
He got to the bottom of the stairs and took a right towards the living room. Wendy was laying down on the recliner, watching whatever Gravity Falls' public access had to offer. Her hat was on the floor, set down by the recliner. She turned her head, giving him a tired wave.
"Morning Pines."
Dipper yawned. "Yeah, you too."
He looked around. "Hey you haven't seen Ma-"
Wendy cut him off with a smirk, "Over there. Careful, though." She pointed towards the end of the room.
Dipper turned and saw an improvised fort made of various blankets and pillows that were gathered from around the shack. He slowly walked towards the fort, nearly tripping on a blanket trailing across the floor. He looked down, realizing that its placement was deliberate. Mabel suddenly popped out, wide-eyed.
She yelled in a whisper, "Intruder!"
Suddenly two more heads popped out of the side of the fort, Candy and Grenda. Before dipper knew what was going on, they all pulled out party poppers that were packed with extra confetti.
Pop! Confetti exploded in his face.
This caused Dipper to stumble backwards and rub his eyes. Wendy simply sat from the recliner across the room in amusement, laughing at Dippers misfortune.
He stumbled backwards, spitting some confetti out of his mouth.
"Seriously Mabel? It's still the morning."
Mabel laughed, "I have to defend our territory bro-bro, good thing we have a great spotter!"
Mabel looked towards Wendy who gave her a thumbs up with a cheeky smile.
She shrugged, "I tried to warn you."
Dipper rolled his eyes, "Yeah yeah. Anyone else hungry?"
Mabel shot out of the fort, "Cereal time!"
Dipper stared at her with a slight smile, "Yeah I could go for some right now, as long as Soos actually has some that isn't expired."
He walked to the kitchen with Mabel. As they approached it though, they heard some weird noises. There was the rattling of silverware, and the slamming of cabinets and drawers. They both looked at each other skeptically. Dipper then nodded, as if they were on the same wavelength. They approached the doorway slowly, finally turning the corner to look at what was happening.
There was a Gnome rummaging through the cabinets with several spoons in his hand. He grunted as he kept jumping up on the counter, failing to reach a cabinet above him to open.
Dipper ran into the kitchen, "Hey! Don't open that!"
The gnome jolted, turning around wide-eyed, looking at Dipper. He grasped the spoons in his hand as he slowly backed up against the wall, looking for a window.
"Shmebulock!"
Dipper looked around the kitchen and found a broom propped up against the wall by the table. Mabel entered the kitchen looking at the gnome.
"Dipper it's that old gnome! Remember him?"
Dipper turned towards Mabel, eyebrows raised.
"He a just a cute little old gnome man Dipper!"
Dipper slowly walked towards the gnome, holding the broom in front of him.
The gnome glanced quickly at the window beside him.
"Shmebulock!"
Dipper yelled at the gnome, poking him with the broom, "Get out of here man!"
Mabel yelled at Dipper from the back of the kitchen, "Don't' hurt him, he's just misunderstood!"
Dipper ignored her, shooing the gnome with his broom, talking in between each time he would push the gnome.
"Yep. Yep, yeah come on, get out."
The gnome turned towards the window, "Shmebulock!"
It struggled to climb up the window, which was slightly opened. Dipper used the end of the broom to give the gnome the boost he needed, lifting him through the window.
Dipper set down the broom, letting out a side of relief.
"Man, Melody wasn't joking about the gnomes. How do they keep getting in."
Mabel shrugged, "Maybe someone left the window open by accident?" She walked towards the various cabinets and looked for some cereal. She was taller now, not by a lot, but enough to where she could reach certain places without needing too much help. She looked in the cabinet, smiling as she pulled out a cereal box.
"Hey, this one looks good!"
Dipper took it from her and looked at the expiration date.
"And it's not expired yet, not bad Soos."
Dipper looked inside the fridge. He found the milk, which sat beside a bag labeled emergency nacho mix. Dipper stared blankly at the bag, shaking his head and taking the milk out.
Maybe it's best not to think about that, he thought.
He set the milk on the counter and closed the fridge door. He eyed the carton suspiciously.
"Doesn't this milk look a little chunky?"
Mabel waved her hand, "Don't worry bro-bro, more chunks means a better texture."
Dipper cringed at the thought. He picked up the carton and looked at the expiration date.
"Anddd this almost 8 months old."
As if summoned by the chaos, Wendy strolled in, rubbing her eyes, with Candy and Grenda trailing behind.
"Did we miss the gnome wrangling?" Wendy smirked.
Dipper sighed, "Yeah just about."
Wendy chuckled. "Yeah, he usually comes by every morning or so to get some snacks, and spoons for some odd reason. Kinda weird."
He looked at the milk cartoon, disappointed at the situation, before dumping its contents in the sink. He looked around the room.
"Does anyone have any ideas for breakfast?"
Mabel's eyes lit up like the night sky.
"Dipperrrr, I have that idea remember?" She grabbed him by the shoulders.
"The celebratory Dinner! We can just make it breakfast instead, that way we do something to celebrate that were finally back!"
He remembered Mabel mentioning this when they loaded onto the bus back in Piedmont. It was an idea that didn't sound too bad, one that he liked. Dipper smiled at his sister's antics, gently pushing her playfully. "Okay but where?"
Wendy piped in, "Ohhh, how about Greasy's?"
Grenda slammed the table with excitement. "Of course! They have the best pancakes!"
Candy nodded in agreement as Mabel gave Wendy a nudge and a knowing smile.
Dipper's mind immediately traced back to Greasy's Diner—the familiar scent of pancakes and syrup filling the air. He could almost taste the chili fries he devoured in the afternoons, the greasy burgers he occasionally treated himself to. Just thinking about the food made his stomach growl.
But then his thoughts took a darker turn, down a dim, hollow hallway of memory.
Greasy's wasn't just about comfort food and good times. One of his toughest moments had unfolded there—a battle for his manliness. He shook his head, almost wanting to slap himself. It was just one of those things, he told himself. Even Grunkle Stan had said he made the right choice. But in the quiet corners of his mind, it still haunted him.
Back in high school, those taunts echoed louder. They mocked his voice, cracking at all the wrong moments. They pointed at how skinny he was, how he sneezed like a kitten. He couldn't find a single thing about himself that felt "manly" or "strong."
So worthless.
The word lodged itself in his mind like a splinter, embedding deep into his self-consciousness. When he had been in Gravity Falls, he hadn't thought much about it. The adventures with the Manotaurs had temporarily drowned out the nagging doubts. But in Piedmont, those doubts felt heavier. The way people at school would point out every flaw, every small detail they could mock, had worn him down. It was a slow process, one that chiseled away at his confidence. He'd become hyper-aware of every imperfection—his scrawny frame, the way his voice cracked, even the way he sneezed like a kitten. All these little things that made him feel... so small.
So... weak.
He felt a sharp pang of frustration, a desperate yearning for something more—something to prove to everyone, to himself, that he was capable. That he wasn't just this fragile, awkward kid. The weight of it was suffocating, pushing him further into a place he didn't want to be.
But he thought about the times in Gravity Falls during weirdmageddon. How he took on Bill, how he managed to survive the apocalypse, he even built a damn robot. He could almost hear the Manotaurs' chants, or see Bill's glowing eye. He'd stood up to them. He'd survived.
He snapped back to reality, Wendy's laughter cutting through his thoughts. Mabel was trying to diffuse an argument between Candy and Grenda about the perfect cereal-to-milk ratio. He took a deep breath.
He didn't want to let these thoughts affect his vacation again. He tightened his hands into fists by his sides, grabbing onto the edge of his hoodie, just to feel some sort of comfort. He needed something to ground him, to release all this tension from his body. After everything he'd faced—Bill, Weirdmageddon, even the Manotaurs—he knew it. He had to be strong enough. Just because he didn't have the frame or the qualities one would expect from a man, it didn't mean he wasn't strong….
He sighed, breathing in to expand his chest, trying to fill himself with confidence again.
I am strong enough…
Right?
Greasy's Diner was buzzing. The shift had just started, and the people of Gravity Falls arrived to eat their breakfast. The grills sizzled, various pancakes and hashbrowns laid on the black top, cooking. Lazy Susan was juggling multiple plates in both her hands as she went from table to table.
Pacifica took a quick breath. In, and then out. After Susan would do the last few tables, she would be able to finally breathe again for a bit. Pacifica had been practically running around the diner for the last few hours prepping for the morning and attending to the customers during the morning rush. This had been able to keep her focused and make her forget about her previous experience from last night.
She wiped her eyes, the bags underneath them, a physical reminder of what happened yesterday. She couldn't lie to herself, whatever she felt leaving the diner that night had her shaken up. She found herself checking the corners of her room before she went to bed, trying to see if there was something, anything watching…
But weirdly enough, the diner felt completely normal today. And not like yesterday where it was too normal. The moment she walked in for the morning shift, the diner felt different. She didn't feel those set of Unseen eyes or that sinister aura around her, it just felt like a regular day at her job.
And to her, that is what worried her the most.
It didn't feel like something Gravity Falls would do. She expected whatever weird or supernatural entity she was being stalked by to interact with her again, to make its presence known to her again. But nothing had happened so far today, it was completely quiet, averagely normal.
She sighed as she took out her notepad of orders and her hot pink pen, flipping to the back of the notepad. She stared at the fresh page, ideas running through her head. To her, a deal with her parents to obtain their wealth again must have involved any of the businesses in Gravity Falls, directly or not.
She started writing down the businesses in the area. After a couple of minutes, she had a sizeable list. She ran her hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear and making sure her bangs were settled right. She walked over to the other side of the bar and took a seat to think. She studied the list she made carefully, looking at each name she had written down. A lot of the businesses on her notepad were small, family owned. She shook her head; she knew her parents would have no interest in them. It needed to be something…big.
In the distance the door opened, and she could hear a commotion of customers entering the Diner and sitting down.
Perfect, she thought.
She started crossing out names on her list, ones she didn't think her parents wouldn't even care to acknowledge.
She whispered to herself as she read the names. "Toby's Photography."
Ew…
As she crossed out Toby's Photography, she muttered, "Yeah, ew. Definitely not." She moved onto the next one.
"Corduroy Lumber and Co."
She stopped her pen above the name. Something about the Corduroy's felt familiar, and she wasn't just thinking about their father or Dipper's friend, Wendy, right?
She was deep in thought, trying to find the reason why she felt this way about them. She hadn't really interacted with the family much before, besides Wendy, but she knew the Northwest's and Corduroy's were linked.
Then it hit her, like something was flashing in her brain. The Mud Slide. She remembered the Northwest Estate curse—the broken promises, the countless builders that died in vain. The day she vowed to fix her family's name. Now, that promise felt distant, almost meaningless. She could remember the mansions and its mahogany walls, their grain, all carved with patterns of souls that couldn't move on, still suffering from a broken promise that happened so many years ago,
This gave her chills, which she quickly shook off, taking a breath in and out. That was the day she swore, to everyone there, to herself, that her family name was broken and that she was going to fix it.
She couldn't help but sigh at this thought, lowering her head in shame. Looking at herself now, she hadn't done anything close to fixing her family name, let alone wanting to still be part of it.
She set her pen down, massaging her scalp. Thinking about this now wasn't going to get her anywhere, and she knew that. She had to dig deep, and approach this from a different angle, one that she had been raised with her entire life.
Pacifica stared at the list again, letting the words burn into her mind. She had to think in the mind of the Northwest for a bit. What do they have to offer finically? How easy would it be to exploit their business? What is their Net Worth?
She paused. Wait, would they even have a net worth?
She rolled her eyes, making a noise of frustration to herself.
Stay focused, Pacifica….
She started thinking about anything she could about the Corduroy's Lumber Business. She knew that they were pretty much the only prominent lumber provider in Gravity Falls, and the one that exported out. Their father, Manly-Dan, would drive the loads out in and Out of Gravity Falls himself from what she had seen with his truck, particularly smaller ones. She never had seen him do any big loads before.
But would Mother and Father be interested?
From what she could remember from some of her private school lessons, the lumber business as a whole had dropped a good margin, not being as profitable as it used to. How would they get so much from so little?
She groaned, letting her head fall onto the counter before her. She turned her head to the side while she kept it lying on the counter. The cool and slick surface kept her awake. She grabbed her pen and crossed out the Name.
She could feel herself slipping already, there were so many places to choose from. To go through every name would be insanity to her. She stared at the notepad as her head was lying on the counter. Her nails dug into her palms, leaving crescents. A hot flush crawled up her neck. So annoyed at herself for doing something tedious, furious with her parents for getting caught up in something she had no idea about. She needed more than names. Clues. Something in the diner's shadowed corners…something she missed.
She breathed out and let her hands lay limp by her sides. She needed to save her energy if she wanted to get through the rest of her shift. She slowly raised her head off the counter, blowing some of the lose strands of hair out of her mouth. She then noticed the conversation by the customers who had just arrived had gotten louder. She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. She hated annoying customers and—
Are they talking about a Gnome?
She paused, lending an ear towards that side of the Diner, trying to listen in on the conversation. She swore one of their voices sounded familiar, too familiar.
She wanted to keep listening, but felt her face being pulled back towards the notepad by an invisible force, like she had an obligation, a civic duty to uphold. She picked up her Pen and held it by the next name. She froze.
Putt Hutt
She remembered this place too well. So many memories came flooding in, ones she wanted to forget entirely. She could feel the shame burning up inside of her, eating away at her. How she treated Mabel, the sting in her heart she felt after her parents didn't come to watch, and the embarrassment that came after they left her there.
She wished she could just spit everything out, let it all disappear down the drain of one of the diner's sinks. Let it all slip away, so she wouldn't have to carry this shame with her anymore. She stared at her hand, the fingers trembling slightly. The pen in her grip wobbled, as if it too couldn't handle the weight of her thoughts.
"Ugh, seriously?" she muttered, frustration thick in her voice. She released the pen, letting it fall onto the paper, her gaze fixed on the name written there.
She tried to push the memories away, to free herself from the suffocating grip of the past. But as her eyes stayed fixed on the ink, it felt like it was burning into her pupils, a permanent mark. She squeezed her eyes shut, and the memories flooded back in vivid detail—the way the golf balls had wrapped around her, the terrifying rush of wind in her hair as she slid toward the turbine. A chill ran down her spine.
That was one of the first times she had come so close to the end—and the fear had nearly swallowed her whole.
But she was in Gravity Falls now, and finding little golf ball people, running from a lumberjack ghost that haunted her home, or battling an interdimensional dream demon—it was all just another day in this bizarre town.
She felt a gentle hand on her back, one she immediately recognized. Susan's.
She talked to Pacifica with a lot of enthusiasm.
"Hey sweetie, there's some customers that just came in, go take their table, they're excited to see you!"
She gave Pacifica a wink, slapping her shoulder playfully as she walked away.
Pacifica had little to no time to react to Susan's suggestion, staring blankly at her, surprised, as Susan walked away.
"Okay?" Pacifica said with a hint of suspicion. She was talking to the air at this point.
She grabbed her note pad and flipped it to a fresh page near the front. She had made it a habit to label tables with nicknames to remember which one is which when she brought their orders. She'd usually do this with corny puns or simple jokes. But today, her patience was thin, and she was getting more annoyed by the second as she walked towards the table.
Her pen hovered over the corner of the paper, unsure what to write, the voices from the table getting louder and somewhat more obnoxious as she approached them. Her eye twitched as she gripped her pen, making her nearly drop her note pad onto the ground.
She wrote a name quickly.
Noise Pollution
She approached the table, her head in her notepad, smirking at what she had just written. A voice then cut through her thoughts. One that was too loud, too cheerful for this hour….
Her pen slipped.
No…
This can't be happening.
She froze as a sudden realization set in.
Oh no….
She looked up, heart pounding.
There they were. Mabel, tearing into sugar packets while Dipper tried—unsuccessfully—to stop her. Wendy lounged in the corner, grinning. Candy and Grenda cheered Mabel on.
Pacifica froze. Speechless.
No way this is happening right now! I'm not even ready! I can't face them right n—
Her eyes immediately darted to Dipper. She couldn't look away, tracing his jaw line, looking at his dark hoodie and how it wrapped itself around his body. His messy, the way it curled around the top of his head and sat over his forehead. She continuously traced over his features, which had only gotten much more defined since she last saw him in person. She had seen him in the picture Mabel sent and already realized this, but it was an entirely different experience seeing him in person.
Wendy noticed Pacifica standing at the edge of the table, seemingly eyeing up Dipper, looking lost in a trance.
"Oh, hey Pacifica." She did her casual wave.
The group turned towards the edge of the table, looking at her. Mabel's squeal of excitement pierced the air. Dipper looked at the edge of the table, locking eyes with Pacifica.
Pacifica immediately realized what was going on and looked back down at her notepad, clearing her throat.
Oh. My. God….
Kill me.
Lifting her head, she forced a smile. "Welcome to Greasy's, what'll be?"
Mabel immediately shouted, "Oh My Gosh! Pacifica!"
Pacifica flinched at the noise as Mabel practically dove out of the booth to give her a hug.
Mabel latched onto Pacifica jumping up and down in excitement. Pacifica tried to protest and move Mabel aside, but Candy and Grenda had added themselves to the hug, making it even harder to escape.
She deflated, accepting her fate.
"Yeah, missed you too," she muttered, rolling her eyes with a smirk. Deep down, she couldn't deny a flicker of warmth.
She had survived the actual apocalypse with them, and that was something important, a shared bond of something unspoken, that no one else could really understand.
They released the hug and sat back down. Dipper chuckled a bit to himself.
"Long time no see Pacifica." He gave her a smile.
She could feel herself burning up just looking at him and his smile, its slightly awkward but cute charm. However, something else was there, blaring at her. She looked at his face, noticing his smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes, and his shoulders slumped, like he was carrying something heavy. He seemed so sad, so desperate for… something. Like he wanted to run away, to hide somewhere. She felt her chest tighten.
Mabel's snickering broke her out of her own mind. "Woahh somebody misses Dipper!" Mabel sat on the outside of the booth, so she was able to nudge Pacifica.
Pacifica scoffed. "Oh please, like I missed you two!" She folded her arms but the flush on her cheeks betrayed her.
Wendy grinned. "Not hiding it well, dude."
The table's laughter felt like needles. Dipper's gaze didn't help. She gripped her notepad as she sank into the floor. For once, she wished the shadows of the diner would come out and swallow her whole.
"Oh my gosh, what do you guys want!" Her patience thinned.
Mabel's eyes sparkled. "Sorry Pacifica, I just never expected someone like you to work at a place like this!"
Grenda chimed in. "You get used to it. She fits right in." Candy nodded in agreement.
Pacifica frowned. "Hey, when did you two even like, get back into town?"
Candy immediately replied. "A couple of days ago. No music camps until the end of summer." She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
Wendy yawned from the end of the table by the window. "Cool story. Can we get some drinks? I'm dying here! Soos hasn't had anything good in the shack to drink while on break and I'm NOT drinking the sink water again!"
Dipper looked at Wendy puzzled. "What's so bad about the sink water?"
She looked off in the distance, "Long story."
Dipper nodded in understanding. "Can I just get some water?"
Mabel immediately threw a sugar packet at him, causing him to recoil.
"Bro, they have Pit-Cola, come on that stuff is amazing!"
Dipper sighed as he rubbed his arm. "Yeah I know, I just… want some water right now."
Pacifica just nodded her head at this altercation, beginning to write down everyone's orders in her notepad. Her mind immediately began moving at a million miles per second.
What is wrong with him?
She could immediately tell that there was something off about Dipper. The way he sat, he seemed so quiet, so lost in his surroundings, like he didn't know where he was. She found it extremely odd. As she wrote down his order, she found herself slightly blushing as she remembered the faces he would make while he tried to stop Mabel and her sugar packet spree from earlier.
So cute…
She stopped herself, shaking her head furiously.
Seriously Pacifica? It's Dipper Pines!
After she wrote everyone's orders down, she told them it wouldn't take too long as she walked away. As she walked behind the counter, she could feel it. The receipt crinkling in her apron pocket, a reminder of shadows she couldn't escape.
She huffed and started getting some of the drinks ready as her mind wandered off into its own void. She began to think about the list again, going through each name she had written down earlier, trying to see if they could be potential clues as to who her family made a deal with. She knew there had to be deal with some business in Gravity Falls, that was the only way her family could regain their wealth in a method that made sense.
The words of the receipt flashed in her mind like a stop light, like a warning, a stark reminder
Am I going too far? Is this too much for me?
She dreaded what the truth might be—something so twisted, so unfathomable, it defied logic. It had to be sinister, even evil. If a benefactor was involved, blackmail or betrayal seemed certain. She exhaled, trying to convince herself it was all too absurd. But she knew in the back of her mind, that she wouldn't put it past her parents. She knew they would do anything—everything—to crawl their way back to the top.
She breathed out, filling the glasses with the drinks the group had ordered.
I have to do this, even if it kills me.
The group sat down at the table, sipping on their drinks. Mabel relished the taste of the Pit-Cola as it washed over her tongue. She missed this.
Dipper sat; shoulders slouched as if they were pushed down by something heavy. He sipped on his water, staring off towards the other side of the diner while Mabel animatedly recounted her high-school romances, Dipper's attention drifted elsewhere—toward someone across the diner.
Pacifica stood behind the counter, preparing drinks, her eyes flicking to her notepad as she scribbled furiously. She muttered to herself, crossing out words with a tense, almost desperate motion. He would look at her lips, trying to read them as he stared at her, watching her mutter all kinds of things under her breathe. The more he watched her, the more it seemed like she was avoiding their table like the plague.
Dipper was surprised, out of everywhere in Gravity Falls, a tiny diner would be the last place he would expect to her. The Pacifica Northwest he remembered didn't belong here, yet here she was. He took another sip of his water, letting it wash down his throat and cool his body. For some reason, he couldn't take his eyes off her.
She still had that weird face she would make when she was annoyed…
He chuckled to himself. He couldn't deny Pacifica's natural beauty. Even at twelve, he'd noticed it, hidden beneath layers of snobbery. Now, it was impossible to ignore. The way her hair flowed down her back, perfectly trimmed and conditioned. Her makeup, the way her apron would set around her hips, her confident stride—
"Dipper! Dude, focus!"
His face flushed crimson as he scolded himself internally. What am I doing?
He grabbed his glass of water, drinking hastily as if he could drown out the swirl of feelings threatening to surface. But his eyes betrayed him, drifting back to her. Behind the counter, Pacifica moved gracefully—communicating with the cooks, scribbling in her notepad, interacting with Susan. Her beauty was undeniable, almost dazzling. She had that polished elegance of someone born into wealth, like an actress stepping out of a scene.
But Dipper saw more than that. Something darker.
Old instincts flared up—the ones he developed while deciphering secrets in the Mystery Shack. Pacifica's behavior screamed at him from across the diner. Something was wrong.
Her sudden flinches at loud noises, the way her gaze lingered on shadows beneath the chairs—this wasn't simple nerves. It was fear. It was pain. Each step she took toward a table or the kitchen seemed rehearsed, as if she donned a mask she'd worn so often it had become second nature. Effortless, but brittle.
Behind that well-practiced smile, he glimpsed at its cracks. Flickers of anguish and anger danced behind her eyes, suppressed but not concealed. Every movement carried an unspoken burden, each step heavier than it should be.
And the notepad—he couldn't stop noticing it. She kept her head down, crossing things out, jotting hurried notes. Just orders, he tried to convince himself. Maybe idle doodles during slow moments. But each glance at those pages radiated something more: desperation, frustration. Whatever she was writing, it wasn't just mundane tasks.
A tight knot formed in his chest. She wasn't okay. And he couldn't look away.
The diner's chatter faded. Dipper's thoughts spun, unraveling the mystery in front of him. It almost seemed like she was writing or going over some sort of list. But for what? She couldn't be that pressed for money, could she?
"Someone's eyes are glued to a certain blondie, ayoooo!"
Mabel's voice jolted him back. Her smirk was wicked, her elbow digging into his arm.
Dipper's face turned crimson. "What?! Mabel, cut it out! It's not like that!"
Mabel smirked, making an "O" with her thumb and finger. "Skepticlessss!"
Wendy laughed. "Dude, you're redder than a Pop Rock."
Dipper sank into his seat. "Seriously, guys, it's not like that! She's just…" His voice trailed off, eyes drifting back to Pacifica.
Mabel grinned. "Hot?"
Dipper's face burned brighter. "What?! No, I… it's… something else."
Their laughter echoed around the table. Wendy wiped a tear from her eye. "You're not convincing anyone, man! I've never seen you this red."
Mabel giggled. "Someone's in looooove."
Grenda and Candy gasped, their eyes wide. Dipper stood abruptly, hands on the table. "Okay, I am not dealing with this, Mabel!"
Mabel tried to catch her breath between giggles. "Dipper, seriously? You've been staring at her since we sat down!"
Wendy leaned in, grinning. "Yeah, dude. Need us to draw you a map?"
Frustrated, Dipper sighed. "Guys, just look at her."
They followed his gaze. Pacifica sat hunched over her notepad, scribbling furiously, fear flickering behind her eyes.
Mabel mimicked Dipper's voice. "'Doesn't she look so beautiful!'"
Dipper shushed her, voice low and tense. "Cut it out! Look at her… she looks so... scared."
The laughter faded. Wendy's eyes widened as she studied Pacifica. She tapped Mabel's shoulder.
"Guys, Dip's not joking. She looks terrified."
The table fell quiet. Mabel's expression softened. "Why is she writing so much?"
Candy shrugged. "Maybe she's just got a lot on her mind?"
Grenda piped up, "Or maybe she likes doodling!"
Dipper clicked his tongue, draining the last of his water. "I don't think so. Something's wrong…. something bad."
The weight in his voice hung heavily over the table. Concern flickered in their eyes; the laughter forgotten.
Mabel looked at Pacifica, worry etched on her face. She drained the last of her Pitt-Cola and stood up.
Dipper blinked. "Wait, where are you going?"
"I'm gonna talk to her. Can't hurt, right?" She shrugged.
Wendy gave her a thumbs-up. "Go for it, tiger."
Mabel made her way across the diner. Pacifica sat slouched, massaging her temples, a pen abandoned on the counter. Mabel took a deep breath. No easy way to do this.
"Hey, sister!" She tapped Pacifica's shoulder.
Pacifica jumped, eyes narrowing. "Seriously? I'm busy here."
Mabel slid into the seat beside her, noting the scrawled list in hot pink ink. She grinned. "Nice pen color."
Pacifica rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever." She glanced at the table and back at Mabel. "Why aren't you sitting with your friends?"
"Oh, I was just curious what you were up to!" Mabel's eyes sparkled with an idea. "Hey, you should join us! Dipper would love it."
Pacifica's cheeks flushed. "What?! Why?"
Mabel's eyes widened. "Wait. You..."
"Nope!" Pacifica shot back, crossing her arms. "Never. In a million years." But the blush betrayed her.
Mabel squealed. "Oh my gosh, you doooo!"
Pacifica groaned, slamming her head on the counter. "Seriously? You came over just to bother me? Mabel, I can't— Not today. I don't need you thinking I have some dumb crush on your nerdy brother."
Mabel's smile softened. "Sorry, I just got excited."
Pacifica sighed. "Yeah, well, I've had a rough day. I'm exhausted."
Mabel's expression turned serious. "I get it. Honestly, I came over because you looked... scared."
Pacifica blinked. "Wait, really?"
"Yeah! We all noticed. I just wanted to check on you... as a friend."
The word echoed in Pacifica's mind: a friend. It felt unfamiliar, almost foreign. She wasn't sure where she stood with the twins or what they truly thought of her after everything she had done. But deep down, this was something she had always longed for—a real friend. Not someone her parents paid for, or a child from an approved family she was forced to spend time with when she was twelve. No, a genuine friend. Someone who cared enough to ask if she was okay, who looked out for her, who wanted to share moments of joy and laughter.
A friend.
Her entire life had been devoid of that role. No one had ever come close to filling it. And now, hearing those words come from Mabel's mouth, it ignited a warmth in her chest that she didn't recognize—a tender, fragile feeling that spread through her like sunlight finally breaking through the clouds. She felt the hot sting of tears welling behind her eyes, desperate to escape, but she held them back. She had to stay strong, even as a small part of her realized that, maybe for the first time, she didn't want to be.
"That... means a lot. Thanks, Mabel."
Mabel's grin could pierce the heavens. "No problem! It's my job, sister!" She thumbed her chest proudly.
Pacifica smirked. "You're still... a lot. But... thank you."
Mabel's voice softened. "You know, you can be a 'meanie-butt' sometimes, but I think you're amazing. You're always welcome at our sleepovers."
Pacifica's heart warmed. No one had ever spoken to her like this. Maybe she was a meanie butt sometimes, but she didn't try to be. She needed this. A friend. And for once in Mabel's entire life, she saw Pacifica Northwest actually smile. No mask, no façade, just a genuine, real smile.
Pacifica looked down at the countertop, at her notepad. Her eyes immediately wandered to the top of the list.
Putt Hutt
It screamed at her, carrying all the memories of how she treated Mabel with it. She could feel her body sink into the chair she was sitting in, rooted in red hot shame, making her want to disappear. Yeah, Mabel could be too energetic for her sometimes, but she was reaching out, making sure she was okay, and clearly defining their friendship. All Pacifica could do was say thank you and simply watch as the memories flew by of how she treated her in the past. She wanted to fix things, to make things right. She wanted to apologize for what she had done.
Mabel smiled at Pacifica as she got up from the seat. "I think I'll head back though, you do actually seem kind of busy. Let me know when our food is rea- "
"Wait!"
Pacifica grabbed onto her sweater sleeve. She looked at Mabel, her eyes pleading, begging her to stay, full of so many things she wanted to say, things she should have told her years ago.
Mabel immediately sat back down. "What's wrong?"
Pacifica exhaled. "Mabel, I'm sorry. For... everything. I—"
Mabel cut her off, eyes gentle. "Pacifica. It's okay. I know a lot of it was just... that 'richness' talking. I can't imagine what it was like, being raised like that. But you're better than that."
She paused, smiling at Pacifica as she looked into her eyes.
"Look, we all mess up. What matters is what you do now. And right now? You're here, trying. That's pretty amazing."
Pacifica nodded, soaking this in.
Mabel smirked. "And besides, you've already survived a summer with the Mystery Twins. Nothing's scarier than that, right?"
Pacifica rolled her eyes, a smirk forming. "Nope. Nothing comes close. And I'm never wearing a potato sack again!"
They both laughed, the tension easing. Pacifica's gaze wandered back to the group across the diner. Her eyes lingered on Dipper, who stared out the window, lost in thought.
She sighed, voice softening. "Look, don't get too excited, but... about Dipper—"
Mabel squealed. "Oh my gosh, what about him?!"
Pacifica's blush deepened. "It's not like that, Mabel! I just... is he okay? He seems so..."
Mabel giggled. "Hot?"
Pacifica's eyes widened, her face turning crimson. "What?! No way!"
Mabel burst into laughter. "Oh my gosh, you totally think he is!"
Pacifica groaned, folding her arms. "There is no way I think that nerd is attractive, okay? He just... he looks lost. Like he doesn't know where he is." Her gaze softened, genuine concern in her eyes.
Mabel's laughter faded, replaced by a serious expression. "Well, um... he's going through a lot." She glanced at the counter, fiddling with a napkin.
Pacifica's eyes narrowed, sensing there was more. "What do you mean? What's going on?"
Mabel's voice dropped to a quiet, reflective tone.
"Ever since we got back from Gravity Falls the first time, things have been... complicated. Our parents... they've been fighting a lot. And Dipper... he takes it hard." She paused, glancing back at Dipper, who still stared out the window.
"He feels like he has to fix everything, like he would with all those mysteries we would find when we were here before. And when he can't..."
Pacifica's eyes widened. "He blames himself."
Mabel nodded, tears threatening to surface.
"Yeah. And now, coming back here... he's afraid it won't be the same. That he won't be the same."
Pacifica swallowed, her voice barely a whisper.
"I know that feeling."
Mabel reached out, placing a hand on Pacifica's. "You're not alone, you know? Neither is he. We're all a little lost, but... maybe we can find our way together."
Pacifica stared at Mabel, something unspoken passing between them—a silent understanding, a shared vulnerability. For the first time, she felt like she wasn't just hearing words, but truly being seen.
"Thanks, Mabel," she whispered.
Mabel grinned, tears glistening in her eyes. "No problem, sister. We've got each other's backs."
Pacifica glanced back at Dipper, determination flashing in her eyes. "What's his favorite shake flavor?"
Mabel was surprised at Pacifica's request. "Definitely chocolate."
Pacifica got up and walked to the other side of the counter, where she started prepping a tall, detailed glass.
Mabel smirked. "All of this for a nerd huh?"
Pacifica rolled her eyes. "Shut up."
Mabel giggled and got up.
Pacifica set the glass down on the counter.
"Seriously though. Thank you."
Mabel just smiled back at her. "You're never alone Pacifica, no one is."
She said her goodbyes with that usual, bright smile of hers. She walked back over to the table, slipping back in the booth and animatedly started talking to the group, somehow gripping Dipper's attention from the other side, causing him to slightly blush red.
Pacifica just chuckled as she took the glass back to the kitchen to use the shake machine.
Yeah, I'm not alone.
No one is.
Pacifica was standing near the counter, waiting for the last order of hashbrowns to be done before she delivered the twins their food. She looked at her pad, reading the name she made for the table.
Noise Pollution
Okay, maybe that one was a bit harsh.
"Hash Browns on the side!" One of the cooks yelled form inside the kitchen and dropped a plate of fresh, steaming hot hashbrowns in the window. Pacifica immediately slid it onto one of the trays she had set up, managing to balance each one on one of her hands. She headed over to the group's table.
She arrived with their food as the group made noises of astonishment.
Wendy smirked. "This omelet is getting the business dude!"
Dipper looked at Mabel with concern. "Hey, try not to make a tower with your pancakes this ti- anddd she's already doing it." Dipper Deadpanned.
Mabel shouted, 'My tower will be glorious!"
Pacifica rolled her eyes as she put the final plates of food in front of Candy and Grenda. Everyone started to eat as she took one more item off one of her trays and set it in front of Dipper.
It was a tall, detailed glass, elegantly topped with whipped cream. A large straw poked from the top, its contents could be seen from the side, dark, milky chocolate swirling around, cold to the touch.
Dipper stared at the milkshake confused. "Woah, who is this for?"
Pacifica rolled her eyes, a blush on her cheeks. "You, duh? You seemed sad earlier."
Dipper tried to talk, only to fumble his words mid-sentence as everyone at the table watched with amusement.
"But… I. errmm….from who?... For me?"
Pacifica scoffed, slightly annoyed. "Ugh, It's on the house, journal boy!" She spun on her heel, both trays tucked under her arm as she marched back across the diner.
Wendy nudge Dipper. "You're in there like swimwear dude!"
Dipper's cheeks turned red. "Come on guys, it's not like that!"
Mabel giggled. "Maybe it is! But he is right, she just wanted to do something nice for you, bro-bro."
Candy and Grenda purred across the table. "Aweeee."
The hue on Dippers cheeks only got darker. "Guys! Seriously!" He felt himself sink into his seat, almost as if the cushions of the booth were pulling his body in.
"Let's just eat, please?"
Mabel smiled as the rest of the group dug into their dishes. Candy had gone for some waffles, while grenda went for the classic Eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns. Wendy's omelet was loaded with ingredients as she was cutting it up into sizable chunks.
Dipper sat, staring at his food. He had ordered a chicken biscuit with a side of hash browns. The biscuit was oozing with gravy, the eggs and bacon practically spilling out of it. He looked around him, watching everyone eat, enjoying their breakfast as they idled with small conversations.
He thought to himself:
When was the last time I felt like this?
Eating like a family….
He couldn't remember the last time he had sat down to eat like this, surrounded by his family and friends. The booth radiated an easy warmth—relaxed yet deeply caring. Conversations flowed effortlessly, hands reaching across the table to pass the salt or ketchup, each small gesture a quiet act of consideration. Laughter intertwined with the clinking of cutlery, ensuring everyone felt included, everyone belonged. Mabel, peeking over the edge of her towering stack of pancakes, animatedly rattled off a list of places she wanted to visit later in the week. Her enthusiasm sparked a wave of nostalgia that swept across the table, washing over Dipper like a familiar tide. He felt submerged in it, basking in the comforting warmth of memories both distant and near.
His gaze fell on the milkshake in front of him. Beads of condensation pooled around its base, the chilled glass glistening under the diner's soft light. Inside, swirls of rich, creamy chocolate spun like a slow dance. It wasn't just a drink; it was a symbol—a token of friendship from Pacifica. An unspoken promise that things could be okay. A silent offering of peace, forgiveness... perhaps even care. Something so small, yet deeply personal, meant just for him.
Heat crept to his cheeks as he took it all in—the milkshake, the table, the warmth enveloping him. It was like the air itself carried a message, one that settled deep in his chest. The milkshake seemed to whisper, as if the sentiment were crystallized in the moment, waiting patiently to be heard.
Welcome home, Dipper.
He smiled, picking it up and drinking from its straw. The sweet chocolate filled his mouth, a taste of childhood nostalgia and hot summer days, one he could never forget. He licked some of the whip cream off his lips, enjoying its fluffy texture. This was it. He could feel it, even if it was only for this moment. He felt like he was home, like this was where he belonged.
After the group finished their food. The twins took out the money their parents had gave them, happily using it to pay for the meals they had gotten. To them, they felt like they earned it. Wendy, Grenda, and Candy came prepared and brought some cash to pay for their portion of the meal. Luckily for everyone, Greasy's wasn't that expensive.
They got up from the booth and walked out of the diner. But in the corner of Dippers eye, he saw Pacifica sitting at a table on the far side of the Diner while some the customers cleared out. She sat, staring down at her note pad, head creased with worry, face lost in thought as she picked up her hot pink pen, scribbling things down in a rush. He stared at her aimlessly, watching drop and pick up her pen every time she would writing something down, tucking her hair behind her ear.
He breathed in and out.
I need to figure out what is going on. I need to help her.
I want to help her….
"Yo Dip, you coming with?" Wendy asked him by the door, she was just about to walk out and follow the others.
Dipper turned around, confused for a moment. "Uhh… I gotta go to the bathroom really quick."
Wendy gave him a knowing nod. "I gotcha. I'll cover for you." She gave him a thumbs up and walked out the door.
Dipper breathed in and out, mustering any amount of resolve within himself as he walked over to her booth. He knocked gently on the edge of the table. Pacifica looked up with an annoyed expression before realizing it was him. Her cheeks went a very subtle hue of red while she looked at him, eyes wide in partial disbelief.
"Hey…" He managed to squeak out.
She set her pen down and folded her arms, eyeing him up. "You need something journal boy?"
Whatever this nickname was from their past, it was sticking quickly, and Dipper didn't know how to feel about it.
"Mind if I sit down and talk for a bit?" His voice was soft, threaded with genuine concern as he looked at her.
Her eyes met his, searching, swirling with questions she couldn't quite voice. Why was he going out of his way to do this? There was a shadow behind her gaze—something lingering, just out of reach. He saw it: the worry, the fear. Her eyes seemed like fragile windows, reflecting the weight of unspoken stress. It was as though something unseen was pressing down on her, something she was trying desperately to hide.
"Uh... sure?" she managed, her voice a touch unsteady.
Suddenly, she was acutely aware of Dipper Pines sitting across from her. It had been a long time since they'd been this close, and an unexpected wave of nervousness crashed over her. On the inside, she was freaking out, heart pounding as the seconds stretched between them.
Oh. My. Gosh! Do I look good?
Dipper breathed out. "It's good to see you. I didn't know when I was going to be able to come back..." he trailed off with a nervous laugh.
Pacifica set her hands on her lap. "It's okay, I know you have your reasons." She looked at him with understanding.
He eyed her suspiciously. "How much did Mabel tell you?" Part of his heart sank.
Can she really be burdened with my problems?
"Enough to understand. And trust me, I do Dipper."
Dipper didn't expect this from Pacifica. He stared at her, slightly taken aback as he stuttered.
"Really? I uhh…don't know what to say."
She smirked. "It's okay you nerd."
Dipper chuckled. "Well, I was just wondering if you were, okay? I noticed how much you had been writing in that note pad. And the look in your eyes was…kind of worrying."
Pacifica moved her hand over the note pad instinctually. She wasn't sure if she should tell anyone yet.
It's my problem, and I need to fix it.
She cast her eyes down towards the notepad. "Oh this? Look, it's just some ideas about this beauty pageant I have to do next week. My mother suggested a few things so I'm trying to think of some ideas to try out myself..."
Dipper could see through her words, the lie barely holding together. But he sensed there was more—something deep-rooted, tangled in shadows Pacifica wasn't ready to confront, maybe not even with herself.
He exhaled softly. "Look, I've seen how you carry yourself, like there's this invisible weight in your pocket, dragging you down. Like something's watching you, lurking just over your shoulder, always reminding you... of what? Something chasing you?"
Under the table, Pacifica's fingers instinctively slipped into her apron pocket, brushing against the folded receipt. It felt like a dormant secret, a quiet thing that had taken root inside her.
"I get it if it's not something you're ready to talk about," Dipper continued, his voice gentle but resolute. "Maybe I'm overthinking it. But I want you to know I'm here. If there's something you need to figure out or face—whether it's dangerous, paranormal, or just... anything—I'll be there."
Pacifica's hand slowly slid out of her apron pocket, and she placed it on the table. Those words, so similar to the ones he told her in the mansion, almost identical in their meaning. It was like for a moment, she was flicking the flashlight on and off again, or she was back in the knapsack, his hand placed on her shoulder.
Her hand instinctively moved to her right shoulder, fingers tracing the familiar spot. She could almost feel the shape of his hand there, the warmth it left behind, like an echo of comfort. As she met his eyes, she felt breathless, her gaze softening, eyes widening slightly. He was being thoughtful again—so open, so caring, always ready to help. Ready to dive headfirst into the unknown, to face whatever challenge lay ahead and conquer it with everything he had.
She admired that courage. The kind of bravery she wished she could summon within herself.
Dipper looked at her somewhat blank expression, flustered by her still beauty. "Uhh…Pacifica?"
Pacifica snapped back to reality, staring deep into his eyes. She realized what she was doing, her cheeks turning scarlet.
"Yeah! Sorry I just, that means a lot to me….but everything is fine I promise. I just have a lot to uphold, a lot of expectations to meet."
Dipper looked out the Window, watching Mabel, Candy, Grenda, and Wendy skip rocks along the sidewalk like some sort of challenge. As he looked into the window, its reflection pulled him in, projecting the memory of him and Pacifica in the knapsack. She could see her face, full of desperation, sadness, and discomfort, as she talked about her image and the expectations it came with. An image, a mask she needed because without it, she didn't know who she was.
He looked back at her. "I guess some things don't change, do they?"
She looked at him, then out the window. Wendy skipped a rock far, but Grenda's strength caused the stone she had found to go double the distance Wendy's did.
She smiled, leaking a tiny bit of sadness and nostalgia. "Yeah, somethings don't."
She looked back at him, picking her pen back up, clicking it with a smirk. "Just like you journal boy."
Dipper rolled his eyes. "So that's my nickname now huh?"
"It's that or nerd, take your pick." She wrote down in the corner of her notepad, her cheeks a crimson hue.
Dipper chuckled. "Well, journal boy sounds better."
Pacifica looked up. "You still like, have one, right?"
Dipper smiled fondly, as if he could remember the day Mabel gave him his navy-blue journal with its pine tree cover. "Yeah. Mabel gave me a new one at the end of that summer."
Pacifica smiled. "Good."
With a slightly nervous smile and rosy cheeks, she ripped the corner off a page from her notepad.
"I'll hold you to it, Pines." She handed him the paper.
Dipper grabbed the paper, looking at its hot-pink contents. It was a phone number.
His mind short-circuited.
Wait. What?!
He looked up at Pacifica, face red.
Pacifica's cheeks grew hotter as she folded her arms. "You said you'd be there for me, don't get any dumb ideas!"
Dipper breathed out and laughed a little. "Yeah, I did say that." He stared at the paper for a second before folding it into his pants pocket.
"And Pacifica, I meant it."
Pacifica looked at him. "I know."
They smiled, in a somewhat awkward, but comfortable silence between them. One made by this new thing in between them, something unknown, something more.
Pacifica checked the time on her phone, sighing. "I wouldn't mind staying to chat, but I can't be taking a break forever Pines…."
Dipper got flustered, scrambling out of the booth. "Oh yeah! Uh… right." He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.
"I guess I'll see you around?" He asked her.
She got up. "Yep."
"Sounds good to me." He nodded with a smile a took a step backwards to head outside. She cut him off.
"And Dipper. Thank you."
Dipper's gaze fixed on her, the morning sunlight spilling through the glass window, turning her golden blonde hair into a halo of shimmering light. Each strand seemed to dance, catching glimmers of gold and honey, cascading around her like liquid sunshine. The warm rays kissed her face, accentuating the soft curve of her cheekbones, the gentle arch of her nose, and the delicate sweep of eyeshadow that framed her piercing eyes. Her cheeks, brushed with a rosy glow, seemed to bloom under the sun's embrace.
His breath hitched, his legs nearly buckling beneath him as if the ground had shifted. In that moment, he was utterly captivated, as though time itself had slowed to a whisper. Her beauty wasn't just striking—it was magnetic, a force that pulled him into an unfamiliar orbit. There was something almost otherworldly about her, like a character drawn from the pages of a forgotten fairytale. She wasn't just a girl standing there; she was a vision, a princess from a distant kingdom he had never known existed but now couldn't stop dreaming about.
Every heartbeat echoed louder in his ears, each thud resonating with the undeniable truth: He couldn't deny it anymore. The walls he'd built around his feelings were crumbling, leaving him standing there, exposed and mesmerized by the brilliance before him.
He shook his head, his entire face going Crimson as he struggled to speak.
"Yeah…erhmn. su-sure."
He quickly scratched the back of his head as he turned around and walked out of the diner.
Pacifica quickly breathed out and sat down, releasing all the nervous energy she had been storing during the conversation.
She looked out the window, watching Dipper join the group on the sidewalk as they walked off, back towards the shack. Walking away from her again. His words echoed in her mind, something she couldn't help it.
I'll be there…
The words echoed through the halls of her mind, each repetition deepening the flush on her cheeks. They resonated with a strange intensity, swirling like a phantom presence that lingered long after they'd been spoken. She wasn't sure what haunted her more—the unseen force in the diner or the shadowed fears coiling inside her. Yet, amid the uncertainty, those words brought an unexpected warmth. They felt like a lifeline, tossed from someone who seemed to be struggling too. Somehow, they made her feel seen, understood—as if the odds could be evened, the scales balanced. Part of her clung to the belief that as long as he was there, she could face whatever this was. But time was slipping away; she knew she had to hurry and unravel the mystery before it unraveled her.
Her eyes drifted down to the notepad in her hand. The torn corner caught her attention, the missing piece leaving the list incomplete, a symbol of everything still unresolved. With a flick of her wrist, she crossed out the name scrawled at the top, the ink bleeding into the paper like a secret she couldn't yet speak aloud, writing a new name instead.
Mini-Golf Maniacs
She smiled. It suited them well, she thought.
She breathed in and out, once again starting to go through the remainder of the names on the list. As she took her pen and hovered over the names, his words echoed again in her mind. Their warmth wrapping around her, fueling her with motivation to keep going, to press on.
I'll be there.
She smiled.
I know.