To officially kick off 2025 while I'm working on the new chapter, it's time to introduce part of the Gravity Falls crew from the crossover! 🤩✨️
Similar to the rest of the designs and little headcanons I've presented so far, these takes on the characters seek to find a sense of evolution in these while staying true to their roots from each show ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶
(and without spoiling too much of what I have planned for future chapters.)
Wendy's design incorporates elements from a Gravity Falls concept art model I found on early stages of the project, giving her a fresh but familiar look that reflects her cool vibe and hands-on work. I've also tried leaning on her classic laid-back charm, as well as drawing from her mention of wanting to move to Portland and hints at her carpentry skills. Envisioned as someone who’s thriving in the city but still feels connected to her hometown 🧡🪓🧊
Pacifica has come a long way since her snobby beginnings, just like she did in the last through the second season of the original show. As a grown up woman working as a waitress at Greasy’s and a freelance makeup artist, she’s embraced a more humble yet stylish lifestyle detached from her parents. For her design, I imagined her taking unconscious inspiration from Mabel’s colourful, quirky fashion and blending it with her own aesthetic since they began hanging out more and became friends 🦙🤙💜
Hope you liked these takes, trivia, and behind-the-scenes promos so far. Looking forward to any thoughts you have!
They were sitting in the roof of the shack, just the two of them this time; Mabel was at Grenda’s, pajama party she claimed. Of course they would’ve invited Pacifica had they known she was coming over but Dipper was surprised when not 10 minutes before Mabel left, Stan was calling for him downstairs, yelling to “Come and get rid of this rich kid since she ain’t giving no money.” And more surprising was, she came to hang out with him, so now here they are sitting on the roof of the shack with colas and mosquitos and the night sky.
He was in the middle of his third cola when Pacifica pointed at a certain configurations of stars. “There it is, the Big Dipper. I always have trouble finding them.”
“Really? Usually it’s the Big Dipper that’s easier to find, it’s what people use to locate the smaller one.” He replies. They’ve been talking about constellations for a while now and it’s just now that they mention the Dipper. In school or just whenever conversations about stars come up, he’s used to people joking about his name, so he’s quite impressed it took them a full conversation to come to this point.
She was quiet for some time. When Dipper turned to look at her, she was sipping on her cola and with her other hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She is beautiful, Dipper thinks. Being around Mabel who’s constantly around people, Dipper is used to seeing girls. He’s exposed to the company of girls that he knows Pacifica is really beautiful. He’d known at 12 years old. Yes, she’s rich and probably has appointments to expensive skin treatments or something and plus quality make ups and high fashion, but he’s seen her muddied and dirtied and wearing a potato sack with no shower for God knows how many days and honestly? It doesn’t change to how she looks wearing designer cosmetics. And now at 17, she’s even more dazzling. He’s more adamant on admitting it to himself now than he was before when she was a pain in the ass for him and Mabel. Dipper was so lost in his thoughts and staring at her that he missed what she just said.
“I’m sorry, what?” He said, leaning a little closer to make sure he hears it this time.
Pacifica suddenly stood up, rigid and face turning red by the second. “Nothing! I’m going home.” Then she dashed inside, leaving Dipper dumbfounded and gaping with the colas, mosquitos and the night sky.
It was in the moments before sleep where your brain either refreshes the memory of the day or wanders to other subconscious parts of your mind, and in Dipper’s case, it was the latter. He thinks he’s already dreaming, or perhaps he really is, because he was back in the roof with Pacifica again, and she was telling him the reason why she has problem locating the Big Dipper was because the Small Dipper was always in her sight.
That got a laugh out of him enough that it brought him back to consciousness. Within seconds of silence he suddenly became dead serious. He scrambled to get up, reaching for his phone because damn if he misses this chance. On the third ring she picked up, voice groggy from sleep but still leaves him with a tinkling feeling as she shaped his name in a question.
So with no hesitation he asked, “Pacifica, did you just flirt with me earlier on the roof while making a joke out of my name?”
It was silent on her end for a few seconds, then he heard what was probably a groan before she replied, “It seriously took you 3 hours to get that?”
He was chortling, and then he was full on laughing. Caution of waking his two grunkles downstairs thrown out the window, none of it matters; he couldn’t stop the grin from splitting his face even if he tried.
Pacifica was groaning again as she said, “God, I don’t even know why I like you.”
Pacifica woke up to the sound of pen scratching paper. The light from the lamp momentarily blinding her, she blinks as her vision adjusts to the brightness. Dipper’s bent on his paper, hair mussed and eyebrows furrowing in concentration, as he jots down whatever’s happening in that brilliant mind of his.
She can watch him clearly like this, because the desk is just beside the bed--an arrangement they both agreed on, since the last time Pacifica woke up and realized her husband wasn’t beside her, she had a panic attack and screamed bloody murder until Dipper came barreling down from the study room, bewildered and panic stricken as well. It wasn’t really a good combination, two adults panicking at the same time, and it took them until dawn to calm each other down.
It’s good like this, she thinks. This arrangement benefits the two. Whenever Dipper wakes up from a nightmare, he would always want to write to keep himself distracted, and when Pacifica wakes up, she will find him there. On good nights, when Dipper wakes up, he doesn’t need to write to keep himself distracted. It starts with him wrapping his arms around her waist, and when he’s sure she’s awake, they get busy from there.
Right now, however, don’t seem to be one of those nights. Pacifica watches as he bends and moves his hand to the flow of the words. He is properly beautiful like this, and the first time Pacifica noticed that she finds watching someone writing to be an image of beauty, that’s when she knew she was in trouble.
She watches him until her eyelids grow heavy again, and she let herself be dragged back to sleep.
The next time she woke up was to the sound of thuds on wood. Pacifica opens her eyes and waits patiently as they adjust to see blearily as Dipper knocks his head on the desk. This is nothing new. When Dipper gets frustrated he does a lot of annoying things like muttering, talking to himself, chewing or clicking his pen—which doesn’t happen now because she threw all his retractable pens and either he use capped ones or write in his own blood.
A few knocks later, he stops and groans. Slowly he turns and his eyes landed on her. Surprise registers on his face and then warmth.
“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” He croaks, bringing his hand to caress her cheek.
She hummed and leans in to the touch. Inhaling his scent, although the room is full with the mix of theirs, the one currently in his palm is stronger. Parchment and ink and just the right amount of Dipper. “Just keep it down.” She whispers.
“I’ll try.” Dipper takes her hand and never lets go even until he started writing again. She weaves their fingers and adjusts her position and goes back to sleeping.
(This was inspired by the scene in The Wind Rises where Jiro holds his wife’s hand while he works)
