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[vapematez]

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[rubenesque-as-fuck]

Purchased the Most Whimsical of Bubblers as an early birthday present to myself 💚

Now it just needs a name...

[peoplee-suck]

new pretty piece I found today ✨

[peachesnabsinthe]

A friend gifted me a new bowl piece 🥹💕 I love it so much

[shopcrescentmoods]

NBC Oogie Boogie glass bong / waterpipe / rig available now! DM me on instagram or email if interested! shopcrescentmoodss on instagram 🖤⭐️💚

[dtwinokcv2]

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[gosensi]

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[creativesmoke1]

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[lxtstrip]

Homesick | C. Sturniolo

TW: weed/drugs mention

AN: first sturniolo fic — also don’t do drugs, smoke a joint (pack a bowl, rip a bong, eat an edible idc!) where/when legal and enjoy.

WC: 935

Pairing: Chris x Reader

“Stay in Boston.” Chris read with confusion from a crumpled note he found in his newly thrifted hoodie pocket. He didn’t think much of it, just some trash left by an artist in Los Angeles. Whether it was a photographer, videographer, songwriter, or maybe a failed sketch was anyone’s guess.

What he wasn’t aware of was the treacherous journey that hoodie had taken to get to him and its ties to the city he called home. The hoodie had gone through a family vacation, a boy’s high school career, moving into a college dorm, a relationship, many italian ice date nights, and a breakup. The hoodie signified an era of someone’s life; the same tagline as everything else you lay your eyes on at a thrift store.

He thought about everything he had ever known as the items were piling up in his newly found second hand collection. Donating his skates when he was 13, his mother cleaning out the garage of all their holiday things, and even down to his brothers piling clothes on the bed to list for sale online. He didn’t own much, just enough to keep him out of trouble, so the thought of someone having enough to give away was enough to make his head spin.

He kept the paper regardless of whether it was trash or not. Chris adored Boston and only associated positive memories with it. Fenway Park, Gillette Stadium and TD Garden were his go to places to hang with his friends, brothers, or even alone. He remembers frantically Googling ‘free things to do in Boston’ before dates and eventually dipping into his wallet after he couldn’t find anything good with pride. He was someone who would do anything to make anyone happy, whatever the cost, but he couldn’t apply that theory to himself.

When all was done and dusted for the day he decided to shut himself in his room and unwind. He ran his fingers down the spines of the books you gave him, reading the titles to himself, hearing your voice with each syllable. Empty promises of going to visit him came flooding back into his memory as soon as he saw your favorite book; tattered edges, taped spine, and a receipt paper bookmark. He shook himself out of it and went to his desk to pack a bowl.

With a swift flick of the lighter Chris pressed the glass to his lips and inhaled for a moment feeling the weight of the world lift off of his shoulders. He sat in his computer chair and looked around his room for signs of you - something, anything. He repeated the motion a few times and grabbed the torn piece of paper from his thrifting excursion.

“Stay in Boston.” Chris repeated to himself countless times before grabbing his phone. He knew your number by heart and as soon as he hit the call button an all-too-familiar ache came over him. He took another hit and exhaled when he heard your voicemail message play. He never thought he’d be here; alone, in his room, pining after a love lost.”

“Hey, it’s Chris…” he started. “I wish you were here. I’ve said it every day to myself while I’ve been out here. I know neither of us wanted this… I don’t think either of us knew what we wanted. I’ve been getting by on memories of stumbling to diners and stealing the mugs or skipping classes to go hang out at the park…” he took another hit and sighed. “What I’m trying to say is my heart will always have a space for you, my brain has always had one.”

You looked at your phone to see another voicemail from Chris. You shrugged it off thinking it was most likely another message he recorded at a party where he would preface it with whatever drug he was taking at the time; the west coast ruined him. As much as you hated to admit it you kept up with their videos and you locked in on Chris looking more gaunt every time.

You hadn’t answered a call from Chris in months and you never reached back out. You listened to his newest voice message as you recanted the first call since the split. He had just done a few lines of cocaine and he described it as feeling a sense of finally being able to focus to a greater extent. It shook you to your core that a once happy-go-lucky boy turned into… this. You couldn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling.

Chris often called to describe his high to you; cocaine, ayahuasca, benzos, acid, angel dust, salvia - the list went on. You were still his safe space and since he drew the conclusion you weren’t even listening to them he let his troubles go in the safe space of voicemails and dial tones.

Chris clutched the “Stay in Boston” note and thought about what it meant to the previous owner of the hoodie. Chris also thought about why this would fall into his lap and when it did. He slowly fell back into his nightly routine while he continued to contemplate that random piece of paper.

After a night of continuing keeping up his high, losing games, and melting his brain over three words Chris decided to head to bed. The second he was in bed it’s as if on cue he saw your name flash across his screen. It knocked his next breath out of him as he answered with a simple “Hello?”

“Chris…” you said followed by a shaky exhalation. “Please stay in Boston.”

[lovemeafterhrs]

idk if ur takin requests girl but i’m fr begging for any kuroo content like ur suna smoke fic i will pay good good dalla for that

my requests are currently closed but you’ve inspired me so i whipped up a little somethin’ just for you :P

“kuroo.. what the fuck.” you guffaw, making direct eye contact with the googly eyes attached to your roommate’s new six foot bong.

“got it on a sale, you like it?”

“i mean, yeah. but i’m not sure it’s the most practical.” you shrug, taking a closer look at the pools of color trapped inside the glass. “the eyes are a nice touch.”

“right? please tell me you have your grinder.”

“fuck. i’ll call kenma.” you frown, reaching for your phone in hopes of getting ahold of the grumpy blonde that’s currently in possession of the only thing you’re lacking.

after approximately seven calls between the two of you, kenma arrives at the apartment looking like he just crawled out of the trenches of hell.

the first thing that catches his eye is the comically large water pipe, standing tall above everyone in the room besides the rooster-headed man. soulless plastic eyeballs glare at him forebodingly as he takes a few steps towards the couch.

“you losers woke me up after my twelve hour shift for this?”

“well, yeah.” kuroo grins as he reaches for the sealed container.

“you still have my grinder.” you add, tone playful as you wrap your arm around kenma’s shoulders. he hands it over to you with a sigh, letting you lead him towards the couch.

“you left it at my house.” his reply earns an offended gasp from you, pretending his words aren’t completely true as you watch kuroo plop ice cubes down the neck of the bong.

both you and kenma have to stand on top of the couch cushions to even reach the mouthpiece, and each hit is a duel effort as the other lights the bowl from the floor.

kuroo finds it to be far too comical, until he tries to take a hit and it nearly fucking kills him. it doesn’t help that you’re kneeled on the floor in front of him, eyes glazed over as you watch him cough and die.

tetsurou learns far too quickly that his new purchase is more for decoration than practicality, and after a couple rounds around the circle he’s back to rolling joints at the kitchen table.

across from him, kenma’s barely paying attention to his friend’s babbling. he’s far more content silently playing video games on his switch while he waits for you to finally make something to eat, but he supposes it would be kinder to listen for once.

you however, have chosen to tune them out for the time being as you brown strips of chicken on the stovetop.

“it’s a waste of money.” you tune back in just in time to catch kozume’s snide remark, followed shortly by a loud, offended huff.

“it is not! fuck this, i’m trying it again.” just like that, kuroo’s jumping from his seat to prove him wrong. you hear the soft patter of kenma’s footsteps as he follows his friend to the living room, and you focus back in on the task at hand.

your moment of peace does not last for very long.

preparations for dinner are abruptly halted when you hear a loud crash followed by the sound of glass hitting the floor.

a loud screech fills your ears, and you turn the corner to find tetsurou hunched over in front of the remains of his shiny new piece. bong water coats the knees of his pants as he mourns, looking like a kicked puppy as he sniffles from the floor.

“dumbass.” kenma huffs, bowl piece still loaded in his hands as he shakes his head at his best friend.

[kerubimcrepin]

Episode 44 - My Papycha, the Secondhand Dealer (Part 1)

I'm very normal about this episode, but thankfully, all the writings to translate will probably distract me from the need to gush about Kerubim and Joris's love for one another.

The text on the left says "PAPYCHAT!". Usually, "!" means "M" in Amaknean, but I think Joris is just very enthusiastic.

The text on the right says "BROCANTE". It means "secondhand store". Also, there's a kama there. Cute :)

"HACHE" (axe) and "BONG" (??????????????????????????????????...probably onomatopoeia for the sound that contraption he drew makes.

Doesn't make Joris writing "bong" any less funny.)

A literal bear has entered a literal china shop. Warning, warning!

To my memory, this is one of the two times old Kerubim cries during the series, the first time being when he thinks Joris will be stuck for the rest of his life in the Heads for No Tails restraint.

I think he should be legally allowed to kill that pandawa guy.

I do think he loves them, but also, something tells me, a vase that took 20 years to make probably costs an amount of money that I don't even want to fucking imagine.

"VIEUX VASE" (old vase)

WHEN WILL JORIS'S REIGN OF EVIL END? Did he steal that piece?!

Though, it seems that even without it, the vase was still restored, — because, judging from all the cracks on it, the photo was taken after The Incident. I guess this story has a happy ending, despite the missing piece.

Photo of the clock: "REVEIL" (alarm, waking up) Bottle 1: "ELIXIR" Bottle 2: "BONBON" (candy) Bottle 3: "MIEL" (honey)

(the clock itself reads "5AM". Maybe Kerubim's alarm. I doubt he makes Joris, who isn't in education, wake up so early. Or maybe Joris wakes up at 5AM and then goes back to sleep. That would be the funnier possibility.)

This action will have consequences.

DO YOU SEE WHAT I TOLD YOU ABOUT JORIS AND HIS NEED FOR ROUTINES AND HATING BEING TOLD TO GO TO SLEEP?

It's obvious that Kerubim is just trying to get him to stop asking, Joris knows that, — and it's generally always why he's being asked to go to sleep early.

The text says: "PIERRE MAGI(Q)UE" (magic stone), with "Q" (::) being accidentally replaced by "N" (:)

Joris's guesses for this thing are: "Is this a ball?", "Is this a thing to do sport with to get muscles?", "Is this a geode?" and "Is this an egg?"

Truly, he is a dedicated thinker.

"VIDE GRENIER" (attic sale)

The first two vinyls say "GUST PRODUCTION" and "SADGUIRAM#2" respectively, while the third one says "ROMAIN".

The existence of vinyls also implies the existence of bands and their fans. We already know that, and all, but this still means a lot.

I wonder if slavery has always been a thing in the World of Twelve, or if it came back in style after centuries of being out of style only in Waven. Love their nonchalant response to it, too.

Chances are, this is just normal.

SEE WHAT I MEAN WHEN I TELL YOU JORIS IS A NIGHT OWL? He is NOT good at being awake early.

I also am beginning to suspect Kerubim is a morning person, unlike Joris. hdfkghsdgf.

Kerubim makes buying things a sort of a game for them to play together, to educate Joris on how to be a salesman in the future and continue their family business, but in the process pretty much hugs him and also look at Joris's face and then hand on shoulder car door man hook car and and um and [CAR CRASH] [GLASS SHATTERING] ‘GOOD LORD!’ [GENERAL COMMOTION] [BABY CRYING] ‘WAAAAH WAAAAH’ [YELLING] [POLICE SIRENS] WEEWOO WEEWOO [HELICOPTERS] ‘WE’RE REPORTING LIVE-‘ [EXPLOSION] ‘MY LEG… MY LEG…’

Yeah I'm okay./ (starts foaming.)

"LUIS"

Joris... I have some amazing news from the future. You'll never guess.

At heart, Kerubim is an optimist, and Joris is a pessimist, and they've always been that way, even as kids. I think it's cute that they both have these contrasting characteristics, and that they've had them their whole lives.

It makes them both really like each other, — but also, probably makes them annoy each other to death, across the 600 years of coexistence.

[audio-luddite]

Doing things the hard way.

I did a lap of the Audiomart and found an icon of turntable, errr craziness?

This is a Michell Transcriptor Transcriber.

This is a linear tracking turntable. Rather than move the tonearm across the record it moves the record under the tonearm. Pause and think about that.

Transcriptors are belt drive so this must move the platter and a motor and a sub-chassis on these rails.

I had a Transcriptor Skeleton TT for many years. It was a piece of kinetic art, but only a so so music player. That was due to the support of the LP which did not suppress plasticy vibration. This could not be better as it shares that. Add the extra bits and mechanicals and it must be worse.

Performance takes a back seat to weird design concept.

I recall the glass lid on mine made a bong sound if you tapped it and on mine the tone arm was not bolted to the glass lid. It is like at every step of the design process the worst possible method was chosen.

I remember reading about this when I was in school. My friend who had a Transcriptors and I both thought no they can't be serious.

It almost seems like this was a bet made in a pub. "Oh no you can't." "Oh yes I can!"

If you are a collector of hardware and have extra cash you need to spend here you go. It is on sale for $8000 CAD. A Google search turns up more some for over $12k USD.

[unbornwhiskeyy]

this is my favorite song on the record, and idk if i can write better lyrics than the ones i wrote for it:

then the sunlight frayed the maiden patch on your back our clothes smell like stale cigarettes and bong glass we'll never be able to find our way back it's like someone broke the woods and glued them back together wrong laid out in fractured patterns like a megadeth song we are lab rats in a labyrinth landmines in a landfill we figured out the ending about twenty minutes in every time we resisted it was all part of the plan the sound of sawdust in the engine i had a dream where you're not around the cat turned red and the house burned down picture was off-sync with the sound nothing awaits us in the ground years after the blackout we wake up by ourselves our shadows move away til they belong to something else weightless and shapeless as the self when the tv static started to reverse from the flames we realized we were acting and the whole world was a stage broadcast with a ten-second delay and now we're only flashbacks in the sequel to the dream floating in the reeds, on sale at spirit halloween we gleam like the camera lens in the trees the trees, they yawn forever on they’re everywhere and causing pointless introspection neverending like a drone the world, it ripples from the impact of the concussion if there’s a heaven it’s located in hell love is a story i keep telling myself

[shopcrescentmoods]

Pretty glass rose pipes 🌹🏹 available on IG : shopcrescentmoodss 💌

[thearachive]

❝ the days go round and round ჼ all the things i want to figure out remain. ჼ (this isn't love, it isn't right?)

≻────  𝒔 𝒑 𝒐 𝒏 𝒔 𝒐 𝒓 𝒔 .

⧼  . 𝑦𝑜𝑚𝑖 .  ⧽

• ‎‎‎‎ ❛ meromi hair ❜  @ the warehouse sale .

⧼  . 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑘𝑎 .  ⧽

• ‎‎‎‎ ❛ himitsu shirt ❜ @ the warehouse sale .

⧼  . 𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑙𝑒 .  ⧽

• ‎‎‎‎ ❛ edith boots ❜  @ the warehouse sale .

≻────  𝒄 𝒓 𝒆 𝒅 𝒊 𝒕 𝒔 .

· · · 𝘨 𝘦 𝘯 𝘦 𝘵 𝘪 𝘤 𝘴 .

head - ceylon 4.0  @ lelutka .

lashes - ‘flutter’ @ void .

body - ‘ebody reborn’ @ reborn store .

· · · 𝘤 𝘰 𝘴 𝘮 𝘦 𝘵 𝘪 𝘤 𝘴 .

eyeliner - ‘the hunt’ @ platinum .

eyeshadow - ‘solara’ @ reverie .

· · · 𝘢 𝘤 𝘤 𝘦 𝘴 𝘴 𝘰 𝘳 𝘪 𝘦 𝘴 .

tag - ‘baby tags’ @ bana .

glasses - ‘shy glasses’ @ mio .

tears - ‘constella’ @ kitcat .

drink - ‘vamp juice’ @ emotional circus .

· · · 𝘴 𝘦 𝘵 .

set pieces:

'look to the sky' / 'cherish' / 'need that' / 'into the dream' @ haikei .

'classically neon' @ james & dew / equal10 .

'natural habitat 3' @ dust bunny .

'favorite sweater clutter' @ half-deer .

'tofu' @ black nest / c88 .

'heartcore bong' @ cannabliss .