Totally chill and laidback.

Anti-Dipper, known as Mason, was reading through a Masculine Male Man magazine in Greasy’s Diner. He flipped to the next page and read its contents.

You, Anti-Pacifica, or just Pacifica Northwest, walked up to Mason rather nervously. You had a smile that showed your nervousness. “H- Hey, Dipper!”

His gaze shifted from the magazine to you, a grin appearing on his face once you were in his view. “Mason.” He corrected the fact you called him Dipper.

“Say.. You’re Pacifica Northwest, right?” He questioned, you seemed familiar to him because of your blonde hair being in a small ponytail. Especially your light yellow overalls having that llama symbol on it.

“Yeah…” You answered with a slight nod.

“Your dad owns a llama farm, am I correct?” He questioned again.

“Yeah..!” You could only muster up “yes” as a reply, you were too nervous to give out more than just simple answers.

“Nice! Also, Mabel told me you stink of llama shit but I guess she was wrong.” Anti-Dipper said that rather bluntly, but he didn’t mean that in a bad way. He was referring to her actually smelling anything but of llama shit.