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Dipper had a rare moment of peace and quiet in the living room of the Mystery Shack, where he could finally put his full attention on his paranormal reading. The house was often way too loud for him to focus.
This moment of peace was shattered as Stan and Mabel burst through the doors.
"Please, Grunkle Stan, we just wanna have a totally awesome hangout. All we’re going to do is watch Mamma Mia and eat snacks, that’s all," Mabel pleaded. Stan sighed loudly and pulled an annoyed face.
"Kid, why do you even wanna ‘hang out’ with the Northwest girl? Didn’t she torment you all summer?"
Ah, they were talking about Pacifica. The idea that Mabel wanted Pacifica over wasn’t as shocking to Dipper as it might have been to Stan. Mabel had gotten surprisingly close with Pacifica, or "Paz" as she called her, this summer.
They had reunited at an audition for the Gravity Falls Community Theater's summer production of Les Misérables—an event that would have caused competitive cattiness in the past. However, it went surprisingly well between the two, and they had been bonding since the start of rehearsals.
Dipper didn’t know all the details, but he did know that Pacifica had apparently apologized to Mabel for her past vendetta against her. According to Mabel, it was the most heartfelt and genuine apology ever. That’s where Dipper had to draw the line—there was no way Mabel wasn’t exaggerating.
Mabel threw her head back and exclaimed, "Oh my God, that was so last summer! Get over it. We’re totally besties now. I mean, look at this TikTok we made together."
She then shoved her pink sparkly phone in Stan's face and let the loud dancing video play.
"Ugh, fine, do what you want! Enough of whatever that is. But promise me you won’t become snotty and bratty because you’re hanging around her," Stan relented as he pushed the phone screen away.
"Also, you need to ask your brother if he’s okay with this too. It ain’t my bedroom that’s getting taken over."
Mabel turned to Dipper for the first time in the conversation and uttered a soft, "Please, Dip."
"I mean… for sure, that sounds totally cool to me. You have my permission," Dipper answered a little too quickly to be neutral about the subject. He tried in vain to appear relaxed.
Luckily for him, Mabel was too excited to notice his awkward tone and posture.
"Yay! I need to start setting some stuff up," she said, skipping away upstairs.
——
When it was time for the actual sleepover, Dipper was anxious in a way he shouldn’t have been, and the feeling itself felt shameful in nature.
Dipper would never admit this to anyone, but he had spent far too many hours since last summer on Pacifica’s social media.
In his mind, it wasn’t entirely his fault. Pacifica Northwest appeared to totally kick puberty’s ass this year. While most young teens had to deal with the nasty side effects of puberty, like acne and awkward phases, Pacifica Northwest, always unnaturally lucky, seemed to dodge all of that. She only seemed to gain the benefits of becoming more beautiful and developed, which forced him to stare at her perfectly aesthetic and trendy Instagram posts for hours on end.
Dipper knew he found Pacifica very attractive, but he was becoming more realistic with his love life and knew that would never happen. Therefore, logically, there was nothing to be anxious about. Despite knowing this, he still flinched when he heard a knock at the door. Dipper looked around and noticed he was the only one around to answer it.
When Dipper opened the door, he unsurprisingly saw Pacifica standing on the porch.
"Hey, Dipper. How’s it been going?"
Dipper shouldn’t have been shocked by how pretty she looked, given his internet stalking, but he still was. Seeing the changes over nine months was even more staggering in person. Her bangs were longer, he noted. Instead of going straight across her forehead, they split down the middle and swooped perfectly to the sides. He thought it suited her face well. This was also the first time he had seen her without makeup. Unfortunately for him, this made Dipper realize she had soft freckles sprinkling her nose and the tops of her cheeks.
"What, are you going to shut the door in my face again?" Pacifica deadpanned.
Dipper panicked, realizing he had probably taken too long to respond, distracted by his totally respectful gazing.
"No! Sorry, wait—sorry, I was just..."
Pacifica cut off his suffering with a laugh. "Relax, I was just messing with you, dork. Where do you want me to put my bike, by the way?"
And for the first time in the conversation, Dipper realized Pacifica was holding a large, baby blue and pale yellow bike. He raised an eyebrow in surprise. It was a far cry from a limousine.
"Did you bike all the way here?"
Pacifica shrugged. "Yeah, it was only like 35 minutes. It wasn’t that bad. I feel like I should be offended by your surprise, though."
She smiled up at him with that too-cocky smile, and he could definitely tell she was joking this time. As beautiful as she was, his pride wouldn’t allow him to lose a battle of wits to Pacifica Northwest.
"I’m just surprised that rich people even know how to ride bikes. I thought any form of travel that doesn’t require unnecessary amounts of carbon emissions would disgust you."
Pacifica rose to the comment, eyes teeming with mirth. "Oh, you’d be shocked at all the things I know how to do better than you, Pines."
Dipper locked eyes with her, and for a second, he felt this magnetic energy between them.
Then it all came crashing down when his sister came barreling down the stairs.
"Paz! You're here! It’s so good to see you. Come up to my room. You can leave your bike on the porch."
"Mabel, hey, I need to tell you about what I heard about..." Pacifica quickly sidestepped him and ran up the stairs with Mabel, discussing something he couldn’t hear.
Dipper took a breath and willed himself to be normal.
Luckily—or unluckily, depending on his perspective—he did not see Pacifica or Mabel for most of the rest of the night. He would hear an occasional sound of laughter coming from the attic.
However, his mind was easily distracted because it was Friday night in the Pines household, also known as Poker Night.
Dipper was not a bad poker player per se. He was okay at the game. Was he the greatest poker player of all time? No, obviously not. But despite what Grunkle Stan and Wendy said about him, he was a fine player.
“I just think she’s a bad influence, that’s all. Probably teaching Mabel how to act like a brat and convincing her of bad ideas,” Stan ranted too loudly for Dipper’s comfort, considering the girl he was referring to was right upstairs. Ford looked up at the ceiling fan, appearing bored as if this conversation topic was beneath him.
“Yeah, the Northwests as a bunch are super sketch. You know they regained all their money from last summer really fast—like, suspiciously fast,” Wendy added, doubling the pot as she spoke.
“Probably some illegal shenanigans, and not the fun kind,” Stan said while shaking his head and folding his hand.
“Dude, I totally believe that because my dad said he heard that Daddy Northwest has been out of the country for, like, months now, but their bank account has just continued to go up. It’s all a little too suspicious for me,” Wendy theorized.
“Don’t you think you guys are assuming a lot right now?” Dipper cut in, getting slightly annoyed by how the conversation was turning.
Stan rolled his eyes and started scolding him. “Jesus, Dipper, just because she’s a pretty girl doesn’t mean—” But he suddenly became silent as the unmistakable creaking of the stairs being used was heard throughout the kitchen.
The door swung open, and in walked Pacifica. Her hair was in a loose ponytail on the top of her head. She had changed into pajamas that consisted of a matching navy crop tank top and tiny sleep shorts. Dipper willed his expression to be natural and not to gawk. The whole room turned to stare at her, and the game paused to a halt. Pacifica quickly looked around the room, appearing to be slightly jarred by all the eyes on her.
“Mabel fell asleep during the movie, and I just needed to refill my water bottle,” she said, holding up her water bottle almost defensively as she spoke.
The game resumed after her explanation as Pacifica went deeper into the kitchen. She began rummaging through the drawers. Dipper was about to ask her what she was doing, but Stan beat him to it.
“What the hell are you looking for, blondie?” Stan questioned with his naturally booming voice.
Pacifica jolted in response. “I’m just looking for your water purifier. I thought they were always normally on the fridge,” she said in genuine confusion.
Stan and Wendy exchanged a look and a quiet chuckle at the blonde girl’s confusion.
Soos, ever the kind man, was the first to help her out. “We don’t have anything fancy like that, dude. We just use the sink for our water.”
“Oh, okay,” Pacifica muttered quickly, and if Dipper didn’t know better, he would think she sounded embarrassed.
Pacifica quickly filled her water and turned to leave. However, something seemed to make her pause as she stopped right behind him and just stood there for a moment. Maybe it was the pressure of knowing she was right there, or maybe Stan and Wendy were more right than he wanted to admit. However, for whatever reason, he absolutely messed up the hand he was playing and lost a decent amount of chips. Then Pacifica had the audacity to laugh at him.
“Wow, Dip, you really suck at this game,” Pacifica loudly mocked as she got closer to the table.
For the second time that night, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up at Pacifica after hearing her speak. She quickly backtracked.
“Sorry, that was mean. I’m trying to be less… mean.”
She rushed to bolt from the scene of the crime. However, before she could get through the door, Dipper quickly exclaimed, “Wait.”
Pacifica paused and turned back to him.
“You honestly think you can do any better, Paz?”
The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about it. He started overthinking the use of her nickname. It might not be something he was allowed to use. He blamed Mabel for always referring to her as such.
Pacifica smiled for the first time since she came down the stairs. This reassured him that he had said the right thing.
“Oh, I know I could do better than you. I happen to be an excellent poker player.”
“Then be my guest, take my place, and show us your amazing skills.”
Dipper stood up, offering her his place in the game. Pacifica went to sit down but hesitated when she looked around at the table.
Stan seemed to get annoyed with said hesitation, and with a gruff tone, he exclaimed, “Just sit down, blondie.”
With that, Pacifica sat down and began playing. She was starting at a large chip disadvantage due to Dipper’s poor playing skills. Despite that, she managed to win the first hand and the next.
“Wow, I guess you weren’t joking about being good at this. You have almost doubled my pile,” Dipper laughed, pride swelling in his chest.
“I bet your daddy is a big gambler. He taught you pretty well.” Stan was beginning to have a slight concentrated furrow to his brow. He was not enjoying losing to a teen.
“He’s actually never played with me.”
“Why the hell not?”
Pacifica sighed and seemed to contemplate her next words carefully and slowly.
“My dad considers gambling against a woman an insult to his intelligence and stature.”
Wendy, seeming to instantly refocus on the conversation, gasped and her mouth hung open in shock.
“Dude, that is so unbelievably sexist.”
“Well, he is very misogynistic to his core, so that tracks,” Pacifica explained in a nonchalant tone.
“And your mother, as a woman, just allows him to be such a pigheaded misogynist?” Wendy questioned.
Pacifica barked out a laugh at the question, and Wendy looked up at her, confused at her reaction.
“Sorry, that’s not funny. Just, if you knew my mom at all, the idea of her being a feminist would be ironic to you too.”
Stan interjected uncharacteristically softly. “Your father is an ignorant man.”
Pacifica looked awfully uncomfortable by the emotion she was getting at the table, and she twisted in her seat unconsciously.
“Look, I know it might seem harsh, but it’s just how it is. It’s a harsh world. I have all the things I could ever want, and some people are actually struggling, like, to eat and stuff, and they need your pity, not me,” Pacifica declared with finality as she spoke.
Dipper sat in quiet contemplation, mulling over Pacifica’s clear disdain for being seen as a victim. It made him wonder how growing up in the Northwest environment had shaped her mindset. Ever the investigator, Dipper felt an inexplicable urge to uncover everything there was to know about Pacifica.
The game continued with the conversation becoming much lighter. As she won more chips, Pacifica became much more confident socially and even began cracking jokes here and there. He knew the rest of the table was realizing how witty she could be, a fact he already knew.
Soos was the first to leave, going all in on a questionable hand, followed by Wendy, who wasn’t very sad to lose as she needed to go home anyway. Soon it was just Pacifica and the older Pines twins.
“You have a tell, by the way,” Pacifica commented to Stan out of the blue.
Ford laughed loudly at his brother’s expense, finding any slight against Stanley hilarious.
“Stanley, you need to retire that old poker tournament trophy; a child has figured out your tricks.”
Stan looked questionably at her. “I do not have a tell. I have been mastering poker longer than you’ve been alive. I am as straight-faced as they come.”
Pacifica shrugged and cockily said, “We’ll see.”
The game continued, with the intensity heating up as they got further into the game. Due to a few unlucky hands given to Ford, he was the next to leave the game.
“It’s getting really late, Stanley. You should probably call it quits.”
“Nonsense, I am winning this game,” Stan said, dedication in his voice.
“I’m not even close to tired, but I get it if older players need to go to sleep,” Pacifica smirked as she mocked him.
“Oh, you are so on, blondie. I haven’t had a game this competitive in years.”
The game continued until the final hand. Stan called all in, and Pacifica had followed suit. At this point, Dipper knew it was just the luck of the cards, but he was still glued to the game to see the outcome. Stan finally flipped over the last card. Stan then put down his hand and whooped in the air, too loudly for the time of night. Stan knew he had won the game with his flush at that moment. Pacifica put down her mediocre hand and looked back at Dipper.
“I think he stacked the deck,” she said, smiling as she spoke.
“Oh, oh, oh, Miss Northwest, I thought I had such an obvious tell, but yet you still lost,” Stan mocked in an indignant tone.
“I just got a bad hand. You do have a tell, and I am snitching to Dip what it is, so he can beat you next time.”
“Why not just tell me, and I’ll tell you how wrong you are?”
“Well, that defeats the whole purpose, because then you’ll stop doing it.”
Pacifica began to lean over, getting so close to Dipper that some of her body weight was on him.
Whispering softly into his ear, her breath tickling the shell of his ear as she spoke, “He makes a lot more eye contact with you when he’s lying.”
That whisper did things to Dipper he did not want to admit.
“Wait, Dipper, my flesh and blood, tell me what she said.”
“And give away my future advantage? No thanks, I need all the advice I can get from her.”
Pacifica laughed fully and then looked down at her phone.
“I should probably go to sleep. Dipper, thanks for giving me your spot,” she admitted rather sheepishly. Pacifica then looked at Stan.
“Thank you, too, for letting me play with you guys. I had a lot of fun.”
Stan got a sad look in his eyes, gazing at Pacifica.
“No problem, kid. You’re really good. You’re definitely invited to poker night here from now on.”
Pacifica looked shocked by the invitation. “Really? That’s too nice. Thanks.”
Pacifica looked uncomfortable again, a reaction Dipper had noticed she had whenever she felt overwhelmed by too many emotions directed at her. Pacifica scampered off to bed before the conversation could continue.
Stan was quiet for a minute, looking at the wall in thought. Dipper turned to leave the kitchen to set up his bed (couch).
“You won’t hear me admit this all too much, because I am not wrong often, but I was tonight.”
Dipper didn’t ask for clarification about what exactly Stan was wrong about, because he already knew.
——
Dipper had a hard time falling asleep with all that happened that night present in his mind. Also, the couch was uncomfortable and lumpy. Once he did drift off, he had visions of triangles taking over, and he felt the terror of not being able to control his own body. He woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of a girl.
“Wake up, Dip, wake up! You're having a nightmare.”
Sure enough, Pacifica was standing there, shaking his shoulder, trying to wake him. He didn’t think it was real for a moment and thought he still had to be dreaming. He squinted at her.
“Sorry to wake you up, but you were thrashing in your sleep. You looked like you were in pain.”
The embarrassment of the situation crept into Dipper's psyche, and he wished the lumpy couch would swallow him whole.
“Yep, sorry about that. You can go back to sleep.”
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about it, you know. Everyone gets nightmares sometimes. I mean, if I’m being honest, I came downstairs because I had a pretty bad one, and I couldn’t fall back asleep.”
Pacifica looked at the ground after her admission and started playing with her fingernails.
“So… umm, do you wanna talk about what your nightmare was about?” Dipper asked, trying to break the awkward silence.
Pacifica made a face. “Not particularly. Do you wanna talk about yours?”
“Not particularly.”
The silence returned, and Pacifica rubbed her thighs while she sat on the coffee table until she suddenly stood up out of nowhere.
“Wait, I have an idea I wanna try.” She ran to the kitchen with a mission. Dipper, still a little groggy from sleep, was extra confused by her actions.
Soon, she came back with an apple-scented candle that usually had a home on the kitchen counter and a box of matches. She got on her knees in front of the coffee table and set the candle down.
“So, I read this storybook when I was really little that said to light a candle to prevent bad dreams. Apparently, if you watch the flame while you go to sleep, the heat and light of the flame will keep evil dreams away from your mind.”
Pacifica seemed to lose some of her confidence the more she talked about it. She began to second-guess her decision to bring the idea up.
“It’s kinda stupid and superstitious. Also, I’m like 99% sure it’s bullshit. But the placebo effect can help, right? Anyway, it helps me calm down after a bad dream sometimes.”
Pacifica was trying to light the match, but she struggled because the matchbox was very old and lacked much spark. Dipper grabbed the matchbox right out of Pacifica's hands, lingering a second too long when their hands touched.
“Don’t worry, I got it," Dipper said, quickly lighting the candle on the first try. "And for the record, I don’t think this is stupid. I mean, I’d be a total hypocrite if I did, superstitions are kind of my whole thing," he reassured gently.
Pacifica looked up at him with admiration in her big eyes and a soft smile on her lips. Dipper had to remind himself to breathe. He couldn’t help but think she looked angelic in the candlelight.
“Thanks, Dip. It’s like four AM, though, so I should probably head back to bed.”
“Have good dreams, Paz.”
“You too.”
With that, Pacifica tiptoed up the stairs as Dipper watched her intently.
Dipper made sure to focus on the candlelight as he fell asleep, and wouldn’t you know it—the remainder of his sleep was dreamless.
——
Dipper awoke to the sound of Grunkle Stan clanking around in the kitchen at an ungodly early hour in the morning. He groaned and sat up.
“Good morning, sunshine! The Earth says hello!” Mabel cheerfully declared as she walked down the steps.
“It’s too early for all of that, Mabel,” Dipper grumbled.
“Oh my God, it’s almost 11 AM! You and Paz are both so grouchy in the mornings. She took forever to wake up.”
“I was the appropriate amount of grouchy for someone trying to wake me up at 8 AM,” Pacifica interjected, walking down the stairs.
She was somehow perfectly made up. Her hair was in an intricate braid, and she wore a lacy white puff-sleeve dress that went down to mid-thigh. She was stunning, and Dipper ran his hand through his hair, knowing it was tousled from sleep.
“Early bird gets the worm, Pazzy,” Mabel said brightly. Pacifica rolled her eyes.
“Are you staying for breakfast?” Dipper asked, mentally hoping she would say yes.
“No, I have some stuff I have to deal with at my house. But I’ll see you later at practice, Mabel,” Pacifica answered as she hauled her floral tote bag to the door.
“Aww, see you in a couple of hours, Paz.” Mabel waved Pacifica goodbye.
Dipper was man enough to admit that he was extremely jealous of his sister.
“I had fun. We should do it again sometime,” Pacifica remarked, smiling at Mabel as she walked to the door. Right before she left, she turned around, made eye contact with Dipper, and gave a small wave goodbye.
Dipper watched, definitely not like a stalker, from the window as she biked down the driveway.
In that moment, Dipper gave up on having the restraint to not be obsessed with her. He was absolutely fucked, but he had mentally gone through all seven stages of grief and landed on acceptance. With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and typed Pacifica's username into Instagram.