|| ??? ??? ?? ?????? ??????? || [Dipper Pines X F!Reader]

[Ch 02, Hit With A Rock]

───〃𖠰

I stare up at the ceiling of the Shack numbly, my feet hanging over the side of the tacky yellow armchair. I count the number of lines that separate the planks of the ceiling. One, two, three, four... With Mabel out with Candy and Grenda, I don't have much to do. Seven, eight, nine, ten... Great Uncle Ford is experimenting right now, trying to get his portal to run on something other than hazardous waste. He's trying electricity generated from water movement right now. I wish I could help. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixt-

"Hey Dipper!" I sit upright immediately, looking towards Grunkle Stan, clad in his blue shorts and red-ish housecoat.

"What's up Grunkle Stan? Got something for me? A mystery to solve, a monster to capture, a puzzle to crack?" I ask excitedly, standing up from the chair that was likely older than I am.

"No, no. Nothing like that. I got some people coming over to finish up the.. repairs." He says, raising an eyebrow and chuckling. I look away and rub the back of my neck as a blush lights my cheeks. I recently may or may not have run an experiment a while back that both my Grunkles said not to do, and kinda broke part of the Shack.

"Hey, I was just trying to help! If the blast was contained better, that kinda energy could definitely power the portal." I say defensively, looking down at the carpet. "I just didn't contain it well enough this time."

I know his teasing is all in good nature, and it's how he shows he cares, so I don't try hard to stop him. "Yeah yeah, whatever floats your boat kid. Thing is, I can't have kids in the house while they make the repairs, why don't you go exploring for a bit, note down the different kinds of mosses in that dork book of yours or something." He gives me a crooked smile, patting my shoulder with an open hand. "Just be back before supper, okay?"

I chuckle slightly at his jab towards my Journal, rolling my eyes and grabbing my bag off the floor. I check my watch to see how long I have to be out. "Alright then, Grunkle Stan, I'll see you in four hours or so?" I sling my bag over my shoulder and head to the door. When I open it, I look back at the ex-and-still-kinda-current convict, but he just crosses his arms.

"Yeah, see you then nerd. What are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek?" He jokes while I roll my eyes and close the door behind me.

"Love you too, Grunkle Stan!" I called out before making my way into the dense trees that surrounded the rundown tourist attraction. Despite what he might think, I don't plan on exploring, I've seen every inch of this forest. I don't plan on documenting moss either. I'll save that for another day, maybe one has the properties Ford is looking for. But I'm not doing any of that right now. Right now, I'm headed to the one place I feel I can think most, besides my nose being wedged in a book.

With nothing better to do with my excessive time, I make my way to the dock pier at Lake Gravity Falls. Leaving the trees behind me, I let my eyes wander over the crystal and rippling water of the vast lake. There are no boats on it right now, it must not be the right weather for fishing. It wasn't the warmest day, but if the lake was empty, it was perfect. As I walk along the pier to the end, I let my mind wander a bit. I think back to the things we've done together at this location alone. We fought a robot sea monster called a Gobblewonker, went fishing, and even helped a Merman escape from the confines of a public swimming pool. That was not the most comfortable day. Did not care for Mermando. I shudder at the thought of those days with the fish man, one of Mabel's summer crushes. He was the better of a bunch of bad options.

I have been coming to the dock pier at the lake when I wanted to get away. I never understood my odd pull to the water, but it helps me think. I listen to the soft caws of seagulls from the island in the centre of the lake, the ripple of small waves hitting each other and the pier posts. Maybe it's the white noise of the place that's appealing. Whatever it was, it made this place absolutely perfect for writing and daydreaming. I sit at the edge of the pier, swinging my dangling legs back and forth a bit, and look at one of the pier posts. Someone left a decently sized rock on the wooden cylinder. Probably some kid who was told they could take the rock home, I thought to myself. Gently picking up the rock, it was odd how well it fit in my hand. I was almost the same size as my palm.