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Show & Tell
occasionally subtle
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Cosimo Galluzzi
Stranger Things
cherry valley forever

if i look back, i am lost
noise dept.
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

titsay
ojovivo
$LAYYYTER
Today's Document
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
sheepfilms

Product Placement
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todays bird
we're not kids anymore.
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REST ASSURED, THERE’S A PERFECTLY LOGICAL EXPLANATION. ⸺ DIPPERPINES : index, bio, threads, waltrp.

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amity has been trying really hard to get out of the library, even in the summer there was always something new for her to research. she was spending her days with her internship, but she had her side projects that she needed to make time for. weekends were mostly spent hunched over old tomes at the library, texting her friends, and taking care of ghost. and yet, she knew that she needed to make a bigger effort into being with people, stepping foot into the sunshine.
she could text luz, make a date of today or well... whatever luz wanted to call it. she still didn't exactly know what to call her... friend. and yet she didn't. there was something about being alone today, away from her friends, like there was about to be a new beginning happening. carnivals and events like this reminded her of the markets back home, but there people were trying to swindle her out of her money. she was smart enough to know there were tricks here, like there were at the markets she was used to. amity felt right at home. she'd have to make note of that next time she was feeling homesick.
despite walking around with some snack food, she was mostly people watching. at least until she got bored of that and thought of something useful for her research. amity pulled out the emergency notebook and quill she had in her bag to make some quick notes. new topics that might help with what she was looking into. her nose was entirely captivated by her own work that she wasn't really paying attention to where she was going and what was around—dangerous for a carnival.
amity doesn't think about it, as she looks up the second that she sees the ball, she quickly drops the quill and does a quick spell to stop it before it hits her in the face. it might be cheating, but she uses the magic to toss the ball into the ring. "oh, hole in one or whatever they say here." she didn't know if that would earn her a prize, considering... well, she used magic and didn't pay for it, but the witch picked up her quill from the ground and walked towards the stall. "that was fun."
“ — you… ” the words die in his throat as the ball soars toward the net. magic, undoubtedly. common in elias, he’s learned, but spells — magic used and directed for specific purposes — still manage to catch him off guard every time. his eyes widen before he turns back to the booth operator and flashes a quick, crooked grin. “you didn’t say we couldn’t use magic.” he pauses, immediately reconsidering his own argument. “i mean — that was probably implied, but you never actually said it.” it’s exactly the kind of loophole-finding and rule-bending grunkle stan would approve of; though, realistically, he’d probably be on the other side of the booth trying to charge extra for magic use.
luckily, the operator isn’t that difficult about it. they grumble under their breath and turn away to grab an extra pair, and dipper sidesteps to make room at the booth’s counter. he recognizes flash of purple hair, floating around his classes. he’s also seen her in the library during summer session, here the halls are almost empty; often enough that their presence feels almost routine. two parallel lines: occupying the same spaces over and over without ever actually intersecting. until, apparently, now.
“oh— hey. you go to walt academy, right? i’ve seen you around. not in a weird way,” he adds immediately. “just, like… in some of my lectures.” his attention lands on the quill in her hand. “do you have to carry ink around for that too? or is it the kind of magic that makes its own?”
paradise pier  𖠰  »  ˎˊ˗  12:00 hours ⸺ open starter !
on a summer day like this, paradise pier is bustling with people. clouds adorn the sky as if they were painted against a backdrop of cerulean blue, with the sun shining brightly on the crowds. despite being above open water, they’re boxed in: by seaside food stands, bright attractions, and carnival game vendors — many of whom stand to benefit and have upgraded their prizes accordingly.
dipper knows well enough the tricks and trappings for these games, how most are rigged against the player from the start. but it’s a pair of sound-isolating headphones that catch his eye, which he desperately needs after leaving his only pair at the shack. first, he wonders what the stand’s budget is, if it can afford to stake studio-level gear.
and next, the gears in his brain begin to spin.
wind pressure, launch angle, the low and sagging canvas roof — dipper’s never been the most athletically inclined, but there’s a workaround. the brain is just as much of a muscle as biceps, and the work he’s put into the former can surely close the distance. not to mention, it’s been years since his last disaster at a carnival; he’s gained enough experience now to hopefully not give someone a black eye.
what he fails to account for is the stiff, completely unyielding rim. he adjusts his stance, elbows bending as he shoots the over-inflated basketball towards the backboard. but with no breakaway slack to absorb the kinetic energy, it slams against the welded steel and rocket-launches past him into a nearby bystander. head whipping to follow, his warning comes out rushed and in a panic, still slower than wherever the ball crashes. “watch out! it’s coming right for — ”