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“oh.. yeah. sure, we can hang out,” he agrees, a bit of hesitation in his voice. it wasn’t that dipper didn’t want to see daphne, he always wanted to hang out and spend time with her, but well... after the masquerade things had just been weird. he’d yet to work up the nerve to say anything about it - unsure what there even really was to say. how did he mention the fact that they kissed or what it might have meant without also bringing up fucking sparkypants? and that... that wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. so instead, he stayed silent and avoided her as best as he could. but there wasn’t any way that could last forever. “what did you - uhh.. what did you want to do?” @meddlingdaphne

there’s a moment’s pause as dipper takes in the compliment he never really thought he’d ever receive from dewey of all people. their supposed rivalry was one he never understood, but this sudden change in heart was even more confused. “thanks?” he answers, confusion clear in his voice. “you - uhhh - aren’t that bad either?” not that dipper ever thought he was, the animosity between them always being one sided, but it seemed like the right thing to say. @deweydewncght

breathing out a small huff, dipper ran a hand through his hair before readjusting the hat on his head. “yeah... you’re telling me,” he agrees, knowing perfectly well that making grave mistakes on a daily basis was something that he and danny had in common. “what’d you do now?” really the possibilities were endless. @imgoingghcst

daphne’s not even minorly surprised when dipper asks a question she doesn’t have an answer for. for as long as she’s known him he’d been the one to ask the things she hadn’t even thought of. “i didn’t really have time to look into that.” she shrugs, and even though now she wants to just to sate his curiosity she can’t. the snowman had disappeared almost the second the blizzard ended, gone without a trace. not even a carrot nose left behind. “but it ate one of danny’s cameramen too, so i think he just likes eating people.” she shrugs. content to leave it at that for now. “yeah?” her tone is challenging, amusement clear on her face. there’s no doubt in her mind that dipper has seen dumber, the few stories he’s told her all sounding insane even to her. “prove it. what’s dumber than a giant man eating snowman in an ice skating rink?”

it was the answer he expected and one he accepts right away, nodding his head in understanding. “makes sense. did he get any footage inside of it? or was the camera left behind?” also probably not something daphne actually cares about - but dipper would be interested in finding out more about what exactly went down with the snowman and how it was created. similarly to how he wants to know more about the blizzard in general. though.... he does have his own theory which he feels likely isn’t too far off from the truth. raising an eyebrow at her challenge, it takes a moment for dipper to decide what exactly would be the dumbest thing he’s encountered over his years. “how about a bunch of gnomes standing on top of each other in a trench coat pretending to be a boy to lure in your sister and force her to be the gnome queen?” he asks, not stopping there though. “and then your sister falling for it because she’s well.... she’s mabel.” 

no matter where she went, daphne managed to have an eventful time. and somehow, despite all the fun she’d had tonight with her other friends, nothing felt more special than this moment with dipper. maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that deep down she was a romantic at heart – but slow dancing with the boy you liked was special. with her arms wrapped around his neck, and her pressing close to him while they danced, she was sure she’d be fine staying in absolute silence. just happy to be close to him in any way. but then he admits something that she hadn’t necessarily expected. looking at him curiously, daphne smiles a soft slow smile. “then why didn’t you ask me before dippy?” it was no secret that daphne blake was about as bold as they come, no issues marching into a room and taking the things she wanted within reason. so she can’t imagine why dipper would have waited until now to ask her to dance – or why he didn’t just ask her to be his date, but that was another story for another day. 

the answer should be obvious, dipper feels like it’s pretty damn clear exactly why he hadn’t asked daphne to dance up until this point. it’s the same reason he hadn’t asked her to come to the ball with him in the first place. or why he’d never worked up the nerve to ask her on any other type of date in the whole time that he’s known her. “i...” he pauses as he debates mentally how much he should admit here. if he were sober he’d laugh it off or give some kind of bullshit excuse. but in his drunken state he doesn’t see any reason to not be honest with her. what’s the worst that could happen after all? “i didn’t think you’d say yes.” a small and slightly self-deprecative smile grows on his face as he looks down at her. “or you’d say yes to be polite but hate it.” he should know better than that - should be able to see that daphne was indeed into him - but his own crippling insecurities prevented him from doing any of that.

there were many things in life daphne blake was certain of: she would always make a best dressed list, her friends would always be there if she needed them, and she could do anything she put her mind to. one thing she wasn’t sure of? where she stood with dipper. jhe’d caught her attention from the moment they’d met at the mystery shack, his soft sweet smile enough to keep her rooted to the spot. and over time, as they got to know each other, she was fairly certain it was clear where she stood on him. but dipper was either oblivious to the signs or completely disinterested, so, daphne bit her tongue more often than not. deciding (for once) not to be too forward, in hopes that she wouldn’t ruin one of her most cherished friendships all because she came on too strong. but the waiting game was slowly starting to kill her. “of course!” she thought he’d never ask, and in all fairness, knowing dipper he probably wouldn’t have. standing up from her seat, she finishes the rest of her champagne (the first of many mistakes she’d make tonight) and holds out her hand for dipper so she can lead him onto the dance floor. “this is so romantic, don’t you think? slow dancing at a grand ball.” granted, it’s hardly something new for her but still, she had to plant the seed somehow. 

having already finished his own drink before he’d asked her to dance, once she agreed dipper was up and on his feet. of course he paused to let her drink her champagne, more than willing to wait however long daphne wanted - hell for her he’d stand around waiting the entire night. but as she holds out her hands, dipper gladly takes them in her own and follows her lead. if he were the type to care about stereotypes or conventional roles he might be a little off-put by the way she seemed to just take charge, but none of that stuff had ever bothered dipper in the slightest. this was a place where daphne shined, clearly confident in both herself and what she was doing, and who was he to try to take over from that? so as they hit the dancefloor and he placed his hands on her hips to begin moving along to the music - he let her take the lead as he focuses on just trying not to step on her toes or fuck up in some other kind of way. a bit of heat rushes up his neck at her words though it’s matched with a slow growing grin. “yeah. it is, isn’t it?” looking back down at his feet for a moment before returning his gaze to her, seeing the smile on her own face has dipper blurting out his next words before he can think them through or stop himself. “i’ve wanted to dance with you all night. before that even, really. since they announced the ball.” 

Like a kind of game where he was the only player, Stitch’s eyes and mind were focusing into study any woman or man who was in relative proximity, trying to discover who’s hiding behind stylish clothing and different masks and finding that the assumption offered no advantage. More complicated than it seemed but still finding some fun with it. That’s the reason of why he reacted like if someone had kicked him when a voice interrupted the task, raising an eyebrow to observe the person who had said his name. Was a familiar face? Eyes blinked analytically, as if it could offer answers although what ring the bell was that voice, putting on a smile when being able to recognize the owner of it. “Dipper! Aloha! I didn’t reconoiced you with that suit, you look like a prince!” Glass was rising to imitate the actions of the other, although instead of containing drink it was a berry cheesecake bite that was almost empty, proof of this were the remains of crumbs on the corner of the lips. Smile widened at the last words of the Pines boy, taking some pride for it. “Thanks! Blue means serenity and inspiration! Fitting choice to end a cycle and start a whole new year! Also symbolizes space and I love the space.” Eyes rolled at the memory of the detail on the bow tie. “You know that I tried to eat with a bow tie that had alien illustrations on it? Nani didn’t even let me leave the house with it.” No one can fight that woman, can be the worst mistake. Shaking the head, eyes focused back on his friend, relaxed posture and expectant eyes. “So, any new misteries in the agenda or you’re going to take a little break?”

Glancing down at the suit in question, Dipper didn’t realize that the simple act of dressing up would be enough to make him unrecognizable. Sure the masquerade mask probably played a part in it and his lack of a hat, but still - he’d have thought most people would know who he was. “Thanks,” he accepts the compliment, unsure if a prince is really what he wants to look like though. At least Mabel wasn’t around to hear that comment. Though any worries about that were gone once Stitch started talking about eating bowties. “You... are a bowtie? Why?” The question of was it when he was a kid went unasked - Dipper simply hoping that was obviously the case. Shaking his head, Dipper took a sip of his drink. “Not tonight - at least not if I can help it. I’ve got some stuff in research phases though.”

Wendy found herself swaying to the beat of the music on the side of the main ballroom, another glass in hand. She felt good, that much couldn’t be denied. In the past few hours she’d seen Edric, Lottie, Roxanne, Violet, and a few more but she’d managed to lose track of all of them. That must have been a record of somehow ending up on her own. Had she been more sober, she would have thought about that more, but she was’t and now it didn’t bother her. A familiar voice floated through the air in her direction and Wendy glanced up to see Dipper walking in her direction. Dipper of all people. “Hello,” Wendy echoed, he seemed a little off to Wendy but that thought was pushed away at his question. She knew he didn’t mean it like how it sounded, definitely not, but it seemed like he needed someone to go with him. She didn’t mind being that person. “Sure,” the girl agreed with a nod, putting her glass down on one of the passing trays and following him toward the door.

Nodding his own head as she agreed, Dipper only waited a moment before starting to head out towards the front door. A hand ran through his hair, all worries about trying to keep it looking nice for the night gone, and it wasn’t until he was actually outside and in the fresh air that he started to relax a bit. The tension in his shoulders lessening the further he got away from the ballroom. It’s not until they’re a decent bit away from the building that her actually stops and lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes closing for a moment before he turns and offers a small, apologetic smile to Wendy. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you out of there like that.” There’s a pause as he debates what to say next - logic telling him he should offer to go back inside with her but the selfish side of him tells him to stay right where he is. “I hope - I mean - I didn’t mean to take you away from everyone else.”

mabel rolled her eyes. dipper was such a dud sometimes, even when he was drunk. she just wanted to get silly and spend some time with her twin, but she needed him to lighten up for once. “are you saying you don’t know how to waltz? we do it middle school style.” she put her hands on his shoulders. “hands on shoulders and swaying back and forth like a boat swaying in the sea. it’s ridiculous!” 

“i wouldn’t really call what we did in middle school waltzing,” he counters, though does as he’s told. they probably look odd, both of them with their hands on the other’s shoulders just swaying to the music. it is indeed a very middle school dance picture. but considering they were related, dipper felt it was only appropriate to remain at that level. no need for actual slow dancing with his sister. “i’m surprised you haven’t tried bribing the dj into playing something more... eighties.”