Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I fell into summer headfirst with you.

I fell blindly, I fell hazily, and I fell with a thinning restraint that I still revere in the months after. I don’t regret how I did it. And God, I had a lovely time doing it.

Gravity Falls was a far from sleepy town, but the cracked roads and smudged windows of Main Street did little to appeal to my cynical gaze when I first passed through. I didn’t expect much from my first week living there. (You’d have laughed if you knew how wrong I was going to be.)

I found out quickly that the people living in the run-down patch of the Pacific Northwest were anything but what I’d expected. Wandering through stores and finding the most vibrant people I’ve met mystified me. It was so easy to become enchanted with the townsfolk of Gravity Falls. Them, and all their complexities and oddities.

Of course, you and Mabel were no exception.

Call it what you want–call it the weirdness magnet of Gravity Falls, call it a contrived coincidence, but I think my first meeting with the Pines Twins was divine intervention because a week after landing in Gravity Falls (two weeks after you did) I collided with you both.

I’d stumbled into the Mystery Shack in a half-hearted attempt at distracting myself from the heartache that abrupt moves to the rural Pacific Northwest will bring you. It was the light within the Mystery Shack that caught me by surprise.

A glow filtered through stained glass, illuminating souvenir shirts and counterfeit artifacts. Key chains rustled at the rush of the door opening and a red-haired cashier didn’t even look up from her magazine as my footsteps creaked past the threshold. Every sign displayed pushed me to buy merchandise, but oddly enough, I found it endearing. Warmth–I’m pretty sure that’s part of what it was. Safety and warmth filled the dust-infused air and pulled me further into the shack.

I took a few more tentative steps in and marveled at the place. It was weird, but that quality only enticed me further.

Before I could make sense of the place, I caught a glimpse of one more marvelous thing: a girl my age. Lord knows small towns don’t have enough of those. She exuded the same essence as the shack. Safety and warmth. Curiosity and kindness. And mystery, above all else.

I don’t know what would’ve happened if I didn’t start exploring the woods a short walk from my house, or if I didn’t catch sight of the decrepit sign peeking through the Oregon branches. Perhaps our story would be different. I still think it would’ve been the same, we just would’ve ended up meeting in some other place, at some other time.

Either way, the allure of the Mystery Shack brought me through those doors with an indelible effect, and that’s where I found Mabel. She was in a vibrant pink sweater and was gesturing animatedly to someone I now know: a boy, awkward and sweet. Dark hair and dark eyes, long legs, and intelligence gleaming in his soft, honeyed irises. Movements and little shifts so very self-aware, except for the moments I caught you laughing with your sister–eyes closed, bright-faced, and shamelessly smiling.

That moment had your eyes focused on Mabel, but at the sound of my entrance, she turned.

The beam of her face fell on me brighter than the sun outside. I felt a wild pull to you both. An intrinsic link that formed the moment we caught each other’s eyes.

Her smile widened. The gleam in her eyes was a welcome.

“Hi, there! You look new.” She grinned with one hand outstretched. “I’m Mabel!”

And that’s when first day of my Oregon Pines summer began.

- Yours.

Chapter Text

You were caught off-guard by the overtly friendly, bright-faced girl shaking your hand. Off-guard, but with a definite excitement blooming in your chest.

I mean, come on—in how many towns is it this easy to make connections with people? 

“Mabel?” You confirmed, your startled look slipping into a friendly confusion. You wanted to make sure you heard it right.

“Yup! Mabel,” she beamed.

“That’s a really cool name. And um, yeah! Guess I’m pretty new here.” You ran your hand through your hair, still marveling at the shack. “I’ve only been in Gravity Falls for like- what, a week?”

“No way!” she exclaimed. You noticed that her smile reveals more of her silver braces when she gets excited. “Me and my brother Dipper just got here two weeks ago!”

Brother… that’s right. The other teenager standing behind Mabel, silently watching your conversation unfold with a hesitantly amused expression. At his own mention, he gave you an awkward wave. You assumed he was the more nervous of the two—but in a way, it made sense. Two halves: bright confidence juxtaposed with a quieter mind.

You had your own awkward experiences and socially anxious habits, so recognizing them in him made you feel a bit more comfortable. 

You waved, making his face soften when he offered you back a small smile. The kind, welcoming act mirroring Mabel’s made you realize that yeah, you were already very much endeared by the two teens. 

“Nice to meet you, Dipper.” Perhaps it was the way his milder personality parallels his sister’s, but upon meeting his gaze, the wave of anxious thoughts and homesick pangs that washed through your head since you entered Gravity Falls lulled.  

“You too,” he replied. A piece of your mind quietly reserved itself for him, just as it’d done for his sister.

“Oh, and this is Wendy! She works here for our Great Uncle.” Mabel tugged on the flannel sleeve of the red-haired employee reclined in her seat behind the register. Wendy looked up and nodded from behind her magazine. “‘Sup.”

“Hold on,” You interrupted after noticing how young Wendy, Mabel, and Dipper are in terms of employment. “So the guy who runs this place—your Great Uncle—hires teenagers?”

“Less like hiring, more like ‘ropes them into working for the Summer,” Dipper snorted.

“Do you and Mabel work here?”

He nodded. You squinted your eyes in thought.

“Huh.” An idea formed. You twisted back to face Mabel. “Hey, what do you think your Great Uncle would say if I wanted to work here?”

“‘Yay, another underpaid employee’?”

“But he’d hire me, right?” Your eyes sparkled. Mabel glanced at Dipper, and he shrugged. 

“I don’t see why not,” he said.

“Stan is always looking for excuses to do less work,” Wendy added and set her magazine down. “If you’re really desperate to work in this type of place, go for it, dude.”

You were desperate, in a way. The sudden move to a rural corner of the US rattled you. 

One day, you were bathed in California sunlight and laughing with your friends while watching the waves crash against rocky, sunkissed shores. The next, your family was being moved to the Pacific Northwest because of an “emergency relocation” by your mom’s employers.

You spent a lot of long nights awake after that. Images of golden hills and car rides past tangerine fields rolled through your mind just to let a deep pang of homesickness set into your chest. A somber ache of remembrance had settled over your thoughts in the past two weeks–maybe a summer distraction was just what you needed to relieve it, even just a little.

A weight lifted within your chest at the thought of a new routine in an unfamiliar environment. And, hey, it doesn’t seem like these three kids are the worst people to spend your summer with.

“I’d be down,” you decided. 

“Yay, new coworker friend!” Mabel threw herself at you in a hug, making you stumble back but smile as you wrapped your arms around her. When she pulled back, Dipper offered you a hand to shake. Your mouth quirked up at the formal gesture, but you grasped his palm nonetheless. His hand wrapped around yours warmly, and you flashed him a quick grin when you released the contact. 

“Have fun working for our conman Grunkle,” he wryly said and stuck his hands into his cargo shorts pockets.

“Oh, I’ll have loads of fun. Don’t even worry about it.”

He picked up on your joking challenge and gave a light laugh, making a warm rush flow through you at the thought of being likable to someone new. The prospect was honestly alluring. Thinking about a summer with new people, and new friends, even, made a hesitant whisper of hope beat in your chest. 

Behind your back, you rubbed the fraying bracelet on your wrist between two fingertips. It grounded you.

You knew that you needed to be careful. You couldn’t let yourself get swept up by emotion. Despite it, you really felt like something good might turn out of the job in this glowing shack, amid the towering Oregon woods.

It was the thought of something grand. Something lovely. 

And something that changed your summers forever.