#dipaui

@thedipster

So long, 420!

Hello, 402!

Somehow, the administration had fucked up the apartment Dipper and Maui had been living in the last two fuckin’ years and given it to someone else. Negatives? Their address was no longer 420. Positives? They both got their own rooms now! Which was hella, because Maui didn’t like sock-dooring Dipper, really, he didn’t, but sometimes, well--you had to do what you had to do.

But, now they’d get their own rooms! Except, they had to move all of their furniture down the hall.

Ugh.

“Dipper, turn the--turn to the left. No, the left! You gotta pivot--” Maui grunted a little, adjusting his grip on his end of this shitty futon. “Just turn it so it fits through the door, bro!”

Dipper was blazing a new path for himself and part of that new path was that he wanted to commit to this web series of his. He had it planned out: each episode, he’d tour another Swynlake local spot and edit the footage with him telling of the local legends. He wanted it to be kinda spooky, but also informative. And he’d managed to wrangle Merida and Maui to come with him on this first footage gathering!

Dun dun dun!

The Lyons Cave.

He had some notes leftover from Professor Thatch, so he figured this would be a fun and easy (and also really cool!) first episode. 

“It’s just a bit further, guys,” said Dipper, as the trio set off bright and early. “Wave for the camera!”

@mischievousmarvelousmagicalmaui @heart-of-dunbroch

Dipper, Maui, and Merida were walking by the Kohaku River because all researched evidence pointed to something suspicious happening along it.

Right, let’s back track. Dipper, Maui, and Merida explored the Lyons Cave a few weeks prior and while that was all good and fun, they had accidentally stumbled upon the phone of a missing girl. Maui went to the police and Dipper and Merida hit the library and asked hypothetical questions to their professors. Dipper stayed up extra late on some really sketchy forums and finally proposed the theory that there could possibly be some dark magic ritual involved.

What place in town had the most reports of dark magic around it? The river, of course. All that hell stuff (which Dipper had not  be around for but had heard from Maui and Merida, as well as his professors and the town forums in general) had originated from near the river. Heck, Maui claimed to have closed the gates of hell.

So here they were. Walking. Dipper wasn’t sure what they were gonna find, but he had his camera out nonetheless.

“Right – last time we found a phone,” he spoke, angling the camera towards Maui and Merida. “Research evidence – to edit in later – suggests that this river is a hot bed of magic activity, so we’re walking. Been walking for about --- how long you think? An hour maybe?”

@mischievousmarvelousmagicalmaui @heart-of-dunbroch

Dipper had lucked out back in Berkley and gotten a single. Well, maybe his social life would’ve been a smidge more exciting if he actually had had a roommate to drag him out once in a while, but living alone definitely had its perks. For one, Dipper was a Very Neat Person. He was the neatest one in his family, which made his mom real proud, made Mabel real annoyed, and made his dad totally indifferent. And messes stressed him out. Unorganized messes stressed him out. And from his experience of dealing with dudes his own age, well, they were usually the epitome of Unorganized Messes.

Unfortunately, at PrideU, there was no such luck, and Dipper found himself at Room 421. It was a suite-style dorm, two bedrooms attached to a little common area with some very generic dorm-style couch and standard issue mini fridge. It took him two and a half trips to cart all his boxes up, and at the end of the half-trip (which was just his backpack and Leonard, the giant stuffed shark, tucked under his arm), Dipper stood a little ways in the doorway, most of his stuff already shoved into 421-B, and pulled out his phone.

Mabel had been giving him the silent treatment, since the beginning of summer. Well, as best of silent treatment that Mabel could give, which meant that though Dipper texted her and their parents updates about his Great Move, she only responded with the poop emoji (and occasionally the angry face one, but it was usually the poop). And yeah, to the whole “Just got all my stuff upstairs!” attached with a selfie of him and Leonard, Mom had said “So cute!!,” Dad had said “Good luck..Dips..” (in typical Benjamin Pines fashion using the incomplete ellipses), and Mabel had sent back a single poop emoji.

He sighed and was about to shove the phone back into his pocket, when he heard the doorknob jangle.

He whirled around on one heel. Alright, Dips, time to make a great impression on your new roommates. You can be cool. You got this.

“Hey!” he said, maybe a little too loudly, raising his hand up, and then suddenly realized he still had his other hand around Leonard, the giant stuffed shark. Great. All prospects of being cool, instantly wiped away. No one could be cool while holding a giant stuffed shark. If you looked up a guide of “how not to impress your potentially totally cool roommates in England,” holding a giant stuffed shark would be entry 2.

Maybe he could recover this by pretending Leonard didn’t exist.

“I’m Dipper,” he said, voice back to a cool, level tone. “Nice to meet you, uh.”

@mischievousmarvelousmagicalmaui

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HANUKKAH! 

In which Maui learns some very interesting news about Merida and has to share it with his friends...

@thedipster, @breathofthe-ocean

[tw -- uh none?]

@thedipster

Maui had take out–Pizza Planet, because he figured something greasy and cheesy and delicious was gonna be much more appealing than Chippamunka’s or Imperial City, which were both objectively great–but way healthier and better quality than a good ol’ greasy pizza slice from Pizza Planet.

And being Americans, Maui figured they deserved some fuckin’ greasy ass pizza and cheap beer.

Maui burst his way into the apartment. “OI!” 

He kicked the door shut with his foot. “I got beer!” he announced cheerily as he wandered wandered over to the couch and flopped down, with enough force to jostle Dipper’s shoulder. Leaning forwards, he placed the twelve pack of beer and the pizza down on the cluttered coffee table, flipping the lid back.

@thedipster

So, Maui and Dipper had been called to the guidance counselor’s office. Like a few wayward teens who’d acted out in class. This was some bullshit, honestly. What were they supposed to do? Cry and talk about their feelings? It was the end of the school year. If Maui didn’t want to live with Dipper next year, then he didn’t have to live with Dipper. If Dipper didn’t want to live with Maui next year, then he didn’t have to live with Maui. It was as simple as that. And, they’d been dragged down here only because of Dipper in the first place. Which was annoying as hell. He had studying to do! Now, he had to come waste his time here with his wayward roommate.

Full disclosure: Maui and Dipper had not really been speaking much.

On the outside, things were fine. They said hello and asked how each other’s days were. They smiled at each other. They coexisted in a tentative, fragile kind of peace. Thing was--that wasn’t like them at all. Maui was all over Dipper usually like a playful otter, spinning around and around him. Bothering him until he got grumpy and snapped and sent Maui off laughing. They stayed up late talking or watching Buzzfeed Unsolved or other stupid shows that Dipper liked. They studied together and went to the mess hall together and sat next to each other in the classes they had that overlapped.

None of that was happening now.

Not that he was gonna mention that to--

Counselor C. Bubbles? That was a weird fucking name.

He shook his head, knocked, and entered the small, nondescript room with stupid posters that said things like “Hang in There!” on them, with a picture of a kitten hanging onto a branch. Strolling in, he plopped into the chair that was unoccupied. 

Dipper was already in the other one.