#when they're burning all his records in the fireplace

[joinmeinjoy]

I really like how in s3 they made an active effort to show how Hannibal really did live in his mind palace as much as he could while in the BSHCI.....absolutely devastating

[ssolessurvivor]

[ FIVE CONFESSIONS ]  send for five times the receiver almost says ‘i love you’ and the one time they do.

memes - always accepting! - @princedickhead (cut cause long <3)

I. This tended to happen in his dreams a lot, once he got home and found himself getting to know a Prince of England after a charity event that brought them together. While he knew he could never act on his thoughts and wishes, though, there were times it was hard not to want to. When he saw Henry saying hello to the children on the cancer wards: when Logan tagged along in his dress uniform, christening them heroes for the day. When the Prince got into a discussion about his favorite Star Wars film with a young girl...that smile on his face made Logan feel as if he might burst if he didn't say something, didn't admit the very way his heart sang for the other. But they're being moved to another area, for another story, another group of bright eyes gazing adoringly at their Prince. Not now.

II. It didn't happen often, when Logan was feeling happy enough to turn on one of his grandfather's records on the old player in the living room, pulling Henry into a slow dance in front of the fireplace, crackling away with a bit of flame at the end of the evening. it was something so mundane and beautiful that Logan is literally starstruck: sometimes he still can't believe that a Prince graces the hardwood floors of his cabin, joins him in reading buried under blankets on the couch. Lays in his bed at night when they can't sleep, talking the night away. He loses himself in those eyes then, suddenly realizing the Prince was talking, saying something. Logan ignores the way he wanted to say those few words, but...not right now. Now is for quiet conversation and fireside dances.

III. Stolen moments, fleeting glances, a Prince silhouetted against the windows of Kensington Palace, Logan always loses his breath. He almost feels as if the world tilts around him, spinning with intent to knock him off his own axis and spill those feelings over the floor, paint the walls, tear the curtains until everything is laid bare and beautifully tarnished. Just as soon as their shared space is created, it's invaded by Shaan, Bea following behind. Just as he feels the ache in his heart from the loss of time, the lack if privacy in the Palace, Logan stays out of sight...he doesn't belong here. Why should he infringe?

IV. Tough days are few and far between, since most of them happen when Henry is sequestered in London, doing his princely duties. Logan doesn't fault him for it, not even a little bit. But whenever he's curled in the fetal position in the Palace bed he's been given, the room gilded and feeling strangely foreign...Henry will come to him and crawl in bed. Everything spinning around him, setting his stomach on edge, everything so tense from the never ending flashes of pain, searing his bones and bringing tears to his eyes that he allows silken pillowcases to hide from Henry. Those arms wrap around him, their balm seeps into his skin if only for a few moments, but the warmth burns him. It ignites that heat in his core for the longing there, the feeling that he could say it. He should say it. But...he's racked with another shot of pain, fist clenching in the sheets and a whimper escapes as Henry tightens his hold, a kiss placed to Logan's shoulder blade.

V. They're at the ranch Logan works at for construction purposes, and he's allowing Henry to meet Ginger, his therapy horse. Logan needed a day with her to clear his head of the dark thoughts infringing on his daily life, and Henry had insisted they go together, to ride together. So now, Logan saddled on Ginger and Henry on another well tempered mare, they canter along easily in the dying light of the day, the golden hour lighting up Henry as if he were an angel. Logan is momentarily speechless as the Prince saunters over and reaches to pat Ginger lovingly on her neck, but all Logan can see is Henry, that kind smile, his caring nature, his love of animals. He could say it, but just as he thinks he can, Henry spurs his horse forward into a canter, urging Logan to ride with him. Logan's smile isn't contained as he joins the Prince and they end up riding the night away.

I. It was another one of those nights, Henry coming to his Palace room after a long day of travel and duties keeping them apart, only to devolve into partially nude cuddling turned kissing. These were the sacred moments they shared, after a year of what they might call a long distance relationship. It felt so long since he'd first seen Henry in his suit at the charity event, and the ghost of their time together at the masquerade ball all those years ago. Everything fit together seamlessly it was so easy to feel the words bubble up from his throat is if they were meant to be there, to fill this moment in the dim of the room, the fire dying in the hearth not too far from them. "Henry..." Logan whispers against a few kisses before they stall, a hand going to cup the other's cheek and gaze into his eyes. "I love you."

[reflections-of-mobius]

Various homes for various muses (defo not counting Ten since she's still wandering in her mainverse)!

This also includes a few headcanons on the areas that some characters live in, in general- but it's mostly just me finally going off---

Node and Bless live in a home styled like this, though the two do have a fireplace carved into the rock- and there are various flowers growing out front.

Everyone who lives in Enlightened Darkness (save Ten who is currently homeless) lives in the city of Sanden. It's a city carved from the inside of a hole in a mountain in the desert, so there are interconnected stone walkways, stairs, etc. leading all over the place. Homes are on the sides of the huge cavern, while all business is conducted in the center- suspended in the air by stone pillars and the like.

Most homes are relatively small and conserve space, but are built to house 2-3 people. Most of the homes in Sanden are passed down between generations, to the eldest of the next- but some families have died off, and their homes were eventually taken by outsiders.

Please note the interiors per home are in floorplan only, the actual items that fill each home are unique to the character and do not match the images.

Also, the windows (unless otherwise specified) do not exist in these homes, since the homes are all carved into the cavern's sides.

Murk's interior (the windows show the city itself, they're almost always closed since people walk by his place to get to certain places):

His home is very sparse- it only has a bed and a small table, alongside a few gifts from the people of Sanden, from when he helped defend the city. His general colors are rather dark- browns and blacks.

Arwen's home interior (she lives near the 'entrance' to the city, due to being a long-time guard):

Her interior has some scattered drapery reminiscent of Mazuri, alongside a few mounted animal heads. There're photos all around their bed of her fellow guardsmen, and the general color aesthetic of Arwen's home is purple and gray.

If one were to open the special compartments under the stairs, they'd find several journals- stuffed to the brim on notes about S. W. O. R. D..

Fin's home doesn't have a proper door, instead it's got beads for a door. However, there's a sign warning against trespassing into the home without verbal consent. Fin's home is generally open to anyone, so long as they get xeir permission, first. She's a witch for hire, and a practiced mage by trade- so all of her money comes from clients asking for brews, spells, fortunes, and the like.

Hence why I picked a home with a bit of an alcove, there- that's where Fin and xeir clients sit when discussing business.

Her home has a lot of red accents, alongside hints of gold- and of course, plenty of drapery (moreso because Fin enjoys the feeling than anything else).

Tempest's home is about like this- made of stone and petrified/sealed wood, to prevent the home itself from catching fire. There are no plants within a 500 foot radius of the home. The second floor is a small study for the artifacts and the like Tempest collects, while the bottom half of the building is where Tempest generally lives when she's not busy.

You can find the original build here, by Folli on YouTube!

Tempest's home is very sparsely decorated, due to her needing everything to be resistant to fire. The second half of the building is off-limits to her during incredibly stressful weeks, for fear of going wild and essentially burning the study and all its contents down.

She has a tablet that she records all her findings on, just in case she ever accidentally does go Iblis-State in the study, but...can never be too careful.

And Ten has no home for the time being, but...her dream-home would be something spacious, preferably without a ceiling. However, such a build is impossible (for now) so...

Cinn lives in Apotos, which is inspired by Greek architecture...so of course, their home shares the appearance. They decked out their home in posters, but the general aesthetic matches that of all their neighbors- save that Cinn doesn't grow any plants, and there's always a food and water dish left out for Milky.

And yes, their home very much follows a grayscale-and-blue color palette, although Cinn's favorite color is yellow. It just- matches the town, better.

[knewyouwereaweirdo]

I adore your headcanons, I was wondering if you could give us our 5 theatre teens being chaotic headcanons?

awe, thank you! really appreciate it! :)

"5 theatre teens being chaotic" headcanons, coming right up!

- they've all realized that, throughout their time together, that they all used to be very chaotic children (still are).

meena: look, what's the worst thing you guys have done as a kid?

ash: kicked my 5th grade teacher in her shin—

porsha: ate a jar of mayo that was two years past its expire date—

johnny: spilled legos on my dad's treadmill while he was using it—

nooshy: ooh, i burned down a house once!

meena: what's wrong with you guys?!

johnny: a lot of things, apparently.

ash: no shit.

- one of the things they love doing from time to time is hiding johnny's prized converses (it's literally the only shoes he wears).

- "oi, have you guys seen my converses? i swear i left them here earlier to change into my costume—"

- and then he turns to see the other four desperately stuffing his shoes into the fireplace.

- "mY COnvERsEs—"

johnny: look, guys, I need sum help.

meena: emotional support?

nooshy: love advice?

porsha: financial help?

ash: help hiding a body?

everyone: *stares at ash*

ash: what?

- ash and nooshy are the ones who come up with the bad ideas.

- porsha is the one who unconditionally agrees and sets off to do whatever it is before anyone else.

- johnny is the responsible brother who gets the final say (but usually does it with them anyway because he's like that).

- meena is the one who only does whatever it is if johnny is also doing it because she knows he can talk their way out of it.

meena: hey guys, i just came to—

also meena: *sees ash shoving nooshy into the washing machine while porsha records and johnny watches*

meena: *slowly retreats* ... actually, something came up.

- porsha texts the group chat at random times, usually it's at two or three in the morning.

- sometimes all of them are awake at that time because they're a bunch of insomniacs who can relate to each other.

february 10th, 2022 - 3:08 a.m.

porsha: heyyy i'm going to go get ice cream <3

johnny: what?? no don't, it's 3am and it's dangerous

porsha: *sends selfie of herself going out*

johnny: ur going?? hold up i'm coming with you

nooshy: count me in!!

ash: me too!!

meena: im only going if johnny buys

johnny: why is it always like this

- they all take things very seriously sometimes.

- really, they never know when to tune it down.

ash: ah, well, fuck capitalism. it's a rigged system that incessantly increases the gap between the rich and the poor, that's why society is so messed up.

johnny: despite having slavery abolished years ago, we're still determined where we are on the social hierarchy according to our wealth within the status quo. How is this fair?

nooshy: animals should not have to work three jobs just to be able to afford basic necessities! if the government wants to help the country's people, they better do it right—

meena: *carefully collects the cards and fake cash* aaaand that's enough monopoly for today.

- they talk about their relationship statuses like they're not a big deal.

- they literally share everything with each other.

- if someone seems like they're keeping something to themselves, they will go full lengths to get it out of them (nooshy grabs whoever it is by the shoulders and violently shakes them).

porsha: soooo, spill the deets!

johnny: what "deets"?

ash: you know!

johnny: what do i know?

nooshy: um, your first kiss with ryan?

johnny: ... wet.

- do not let nooshy into the kitchen. i repeat, do not let nooshy into the kitchen.

- do not let porsha into the kitchen. i repeat, do not let porsha into the kitchen.

- on second thought: do not let nooshy, ash, porsha, and johnny all into the kitchen at once.

porsha: guys, nooshy and i are cooking dinner tonight! :D

ash: is that a threat?

meena: johnny, go get the fire extinguisher.

- more chat conversations because they have the most chaotic conversations (buster shouldn't see their chat history).

ash: guys so like, say you see a bunch of objects in front of you

ash: which item would you think would be a murder weapon?

porsha: a rope?

meena: a knife ig??

johnny: nunchucks

nooshy: a banana

ash: wait why banana

johnny: i mean to be fair, one banana does have 450mg of potassium

nooshy: it can be used to irradiate them obviously

(+ might add more if i get bored!)

(disclaimer: i know one of these was from harry potter but honestly i couldn't resist.)

[scotodyne]

Lethe Act I

The Beginning: One can only hope to win

warnings: language, angst, spoilers, graphic content

characters: Nanami Kento x fem!reader, Mahito, Yuuji Itadori

Chapter:3/?

_____________________________________________

Your footsteps are the only thing that can be heard in the abandoned building that used to host mental patients, aside from the wind rustling and cars honking in the distance. When Gojo texted you that he had a job very suitable for you, the last thing you expected was a creepy, empty asylum. You had done some digging as Ijichi drove you here. Apparently, it was built in 1972 by an ambitious psychologist named Ryū Saeki who aspired to help as many mentally ill people as he could.

His compassion made you smile at first, but that smile soon was replaced by a scowl. He was cruel to his patients, he chained them up and wouldn't feed them for days as a means to discipline them. The asylum's staff was equally as aggressive and heartless. Most of the people who lived or worked here died in a huge fire on 1998, whilst the four survivors were transferred elsewhere and eventually passed away. It seems like the cause of the fire was some Mr. Miyako, a pyromaniac, but no evidence was ever found of this doing. The file also says that he was one of the survivors, but no record of his death.

The reason why jujutsu sorcerers got a hold of this old case is that three men were found there last night, completely charred. Now, why sorcerers and not the police? Because these men were homeless, and so was the one who found them and reported it. Police brushed it off as an accident with oil barrels being used as a fireplace and causing an explosion, despite the man's constant claims of hearing a very strange noise when he found his burned friends. After all, who cares about a homeless madman when there are more glorious cases to focus on?

Naturally, jujutsu sorcerers are everywhere, even working as police officers. One of them spoke to the homeless man, realized what had happened, and from there the news spread quickly in the jujutsu world. The incident occurred close to your area, so you got called in to investigate.

The hairs on your neck rise as goosebumps spread all over your body. You smelled it the moment you entered the building; cursed energy. Just your field of expertise.

«Okay my sweet curse, we don't have all day.» You exclaim, looking around. The presence is everywhere, making it practically impossible to spot its exact location. You keep heading deeper into the asylum, silent insults flowing from your mouth with each step. Binging American Horror Story really did you no good.

You put your mind to think before the cursed spirit has its chance to strike first. How are curses formed? They are manifested from cursed energy as a result of negative feelings flowing out of humans. It's highly unlikable that it was the late men who caused the spirit's creation, so who?

Your hands instinctively move before your brain has the chance to comprehend what's going on. Your body twists so hard that you can hear the cracks of your spine as you tightly grasp the rusty pipeline to prevent it from colliding with your face. You easily overpower your assailant by kicking his shin and bringing the pipe down to his face hard enough to make him let go and fall to the dirty floor. You're quick to turn him around and immobilize him by tightly holding his hands behind his back. He grunts and struggles against your hold, but you're a trained sorcerer with years worth of experience and he's just a weak old man.

Somehow, it doesn't surprise you that Mr.Miyako is right in front of you, trying to bite your hands off even if they're on his back. If you had to guess, you'd say that he waited many years to finish the job he started in 1998, and these men were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and definitely the wrong number. Looks like Mr.Miyako had such hatred for the asylum that kept him from fulfilling his sick desires that tried to burn everyone in it alive, and after his failure, that hatred remained, accumulated, and created the cursed spirit which burned the three men, even if they weren't patients. The number was finally right.

The pyromaniac writhes beneath you, laughing hysterically. You groan in annoyance at the sudden appearance of a human. Unlike spirits, you can't just slice him up and call it a day. Instead, you snatch the pipeline and hit his nape, successfully rendering him unconscious. This should do.

Your ears perk up at the bizarre noise that seems to be getting closer and closer. You leap away from Mr.Miyako's body, carefully watching the thing you came here for hover over him. It's an ugly-looking thing, as all curses are. In the color of coal, quite large, with four hands and eyes all over its expanse. You take a fat guess the eyes are as many as the asylum patients. The cursed spirit inspects the unmoving man with much interest and in a blink, its eyes are on you. It makes a weird noise, like a choked scream, and points its big hands towards you.

Cursed energy flows inside you like fresh water. That's how it has always been; swift, refreshing. You can feel it reaching the furthest nerve in your body, filling your body with incredible energy and adrenaline. You mimic the spirit's move, bringing your hands in front of your chest. The raging fire that spews out of its open palm is no match for the invisible shield your cursed energy creates to protect you. Much like Gojo's Infinity, your Aspeda makes you pretty much untouchable.

The blazing hot flames stop after a while, but you've started moving many moments before that. You don't feel like getting your hands dirty, so you reach to your back and pull the Dore out of its case, a powerful Cursed Tool. It belonged to the Gojo clan but Satoru opted to gift it to you many years ago, saying he had dreamed of it being in your possession since its creation. Indeed, the black polearm moves in your hands like it was made to be held from you, allowing you to slice the curse in half.

As the spirit's blood starts staining the marble floor, you pull your phone out and dial Ijichi's number. You inform him of the unexpected gift you'd have to deliver to the police and ask him to come to take you as quickly as possible, not willing to spend another minute inside this place. Mr.Yoshino, despite his petite form, is quite heavy while unconscious. You make a mental note to never accept jobs from Gojo again as you stand outside, the man on your shoulders, waiting for Ijichi to arrive. A drop falls on your forehead and you audibly groan at the dark shade of the clouds. Great, standing in the rain is exactly what you need after all that.

You thank whatever Gods exist that Ijichi is a fast driver when you see his black car finally approaching. He helps you load the man into the truck and you both leave the asylum, driving towards the nearest police station.

{...}

After today's mission, you can't help but feel the need to plop into your bed and never get up. However, duty always comes first. Nanami had told you Gojo would introduce the two today, so now that your mind was off the mission, dread about his safety replaced the adrenaline from earlier. You reach for your phone on the nightstand and almost yelp at the sight of five missed calls from Nanami. He's not one to persist when you don't reply and besides, he knew you were on a mission. Why did he call you so many times?

Relief washes over you when he picks up after two beeps. He grunts softly and greets you, but you can hear past the tone he's using.

«Kento! Where are you, are you alright?», you quickly ask, biting your nails anxiously. He sounds like he's in pain. Your mind quickly goes through his program for today. He said he would be meeting Yuuji today, so you obviously assume that the boy lost control over the curse and Sukuna attacked Nanami.

«Don't worry, I'm fine. I'll come home soon and explain everything,» he says and you can hear him sigh. «Before you ask, no, Yuuji didn't do anything. He's not even with me, I sent him with Ijichi to investigate.»

Investigate what?

«Where are you? I can come and get you, just tell me.» you try again and you're already at the door before he can answer. You grab your coast and start putting your shoes on when he speaks.

«You don't have to. Really, I'll come over once I'm done with the paperwork, won't be long.»

If Nanami was anything, he wasn't a liar. He was terrible at it, and you could easily see past it. Just like now. Paperwork? Does he think you're that dense?

«Uh, right,» you can tell he knows you're not convinced, but you decide not to persist, «I'll be waiting for you. Don't be late, Ken.»

He hums and ends the call. The cold silence feels taunting to your ears. You're supposed to be out there, strolling through the city in hopes of sensing Sukuna's aura somewhere, but there's just no way in hell you're going out when Nanami is in that state. Instead, you run around the house in search of the first aid kit, and you prepare a makeshift hospital.

The look on Nanami's face when he sees you fully equipped to perform a surgery is priceless. He was true to his words and wasn't late, but your thoughts overwhelmed you. You pull the latex glove out of your hand and throw it in the trash, rushing to welcome him home.

You don't know what got over you, you just know that anticipation and worry were killing you. You jump and wrap your arms around his neck, your legs curling around his waist. Nanami tenses at your sudden movement and the hiss he lets out makes you try to get off, but he clings harder to you. With you still in his arms, he walks toward the couch and sits.

«I fought another unregistered Special Grade today,» he breaks the silence after a while, «he had transfigured humans and used them as weapons. He could also transform himself. I had to go into Overtime.»

You raise your head from his shoulder and stare at him. Another unregistered? Are they just spawning lately?

«You got hurt.» It's more of a statement than a question.

«Ah, yes. I had it taken care of, don't worry now. Just a scratch.» He's not lying. You can see it in his eyes. «That curse killed three people at the cinema and who knows how many more.»

«Did you kill it?»

«I hope so. Yuuji and I killed curses today, but it turned out to be transfigured humans. He did well, I know he has potential,» he mutters and closes his eyes, letting his head fall on the back of the couch. You caress his face and smile.

«You did well, too,» you press a kiss to his temple and get up «Stay there, I'll bring you some tea. I'll draw you a bath too, then I'll help you change the gauge.»

He hums in affirmation and you head to the kitchen. It doesn't take you long to pour some tea into a cup and place some sweets on the tray, but when you get back to the living room, Nanami is already gone.

like/reblog/comment if you liked it<3

[twopoppies]

hi! it’s music anon. for reference, I went to MSG III (oct. 18) and harryween II. and this is very long but HARRY AND EVERYONE WHO WORKED ON THIS TOUR DESERVE IT AND IM NOT SORRY.

1. I stand by EVERYTHING I said in my first message. the dynamic contrast. the pitch accuracy. the vocal control. talented brilliant incredible amazing show stopping—

2. the band. INCREDIBLE live. if not for a few changed arrangements or improvised solos, you would think it was a high quality recording. specifically remember sarah doing this cool double-time drum pattern towards the end of woman, and niji having a KILLER keyboard solo after mitch’s guitar solo for She. and elin holds every song DOWN on bass! everyone though, I mean EVERYONE, is incredible. not to mention, they have SO much fun! I have the biggest crush on elin, but I hear she’s taken :(

3. harry’s musical ability is seriously impressive. idk what the problem was at MSG, but for harryween night 2 he couldn’t hear a thing through his in-ears. even after they “fixed” it— i saw him run to the side of the stage a couple songs in and yell to a tech, “I still can’t hear!” but performance-wise, you wouldn’t be able to tell. he was basically relying on muscle memory and what he could pick up from the band. and that’s harder than it sounds! everything they play is wired directly to the arena speakers, but the instruments irl are all different volumes. the band can only hear the music as WE hear it (balanced and level-adjusted) through in-ears. and harry’s wasn’t working! if he was lucky, he could hear the drums and whatever bounced off the walls of the arena (and almost definitely couldn’t hear himself.) and yet, he pulled it off almost flawlessly! he only really got tripped up with toxic, but it was so much fun no one cared. would’ve been an impressive show regardless, but ESPECIALLY with that context. a true professional!

4. harry’s lower range is so, so gorgeous. i love a good baritone. usually tenors rule pop, so a lot of his songs tend to favor his higher range (particularly in recordings) and he does it well! but his chest voice…. I can only try to describe the quality. so warm and resonant, a touch husky (in a natural, healthy way). makes me think of a wood burning fireplace. i’d knit a blanket out of it if I could.

5. bonus because I wasn’t technically there for harryween 1: that stunning, stunning cover of somewhere over the rainbow. a very different vocal style for him. he sang it “straight” (lol— just means not a lot of riffing, many long held out notes). and god, his voice was so pure and supported. he perfected the pushes and pulls of his softer notes and soaring vocals. i cried (for multiple reasons) when i saw my friend’s video. he’s got a beautiful instrument, and his improvement over his career insane.

in summary: i’ve probably overused the word impressive, but there’s really no other word to use. an incredibly fun, beautiful, breathtaking show (literally— those 15 minutes of dancing could be an aerobics workout.) wish I could mail this to harry. I hope somebody is telling him, the band, and his creative team they’re really doing a phenomenal job! 💗

I fell asleep before you sent this last night, but ugh... THANK YOU!! I love hearing such effusive praise for his voice because I don't have to words to do it myself. That's crazy that his in-ears weren't working at Harryween 2 but he still sounded so great. I noticed he had trouble with Toxic, but I just assumed it was because he hadn't had time to practice enough. I should have known it was something else!

I hope someone out there is praising him and the band, as well! They're all just phenomenal. I love everything about the mix of people he's got on stage and I hope they stay with him!

If you want to read music anon's first message, you can find it here.

[chubb-e-cheese]

okay so I started writing this without like thinking this might potentially be disturbing so like pls feel free to delete if like stories with death + human remains are a no go. last November i got invited over to a neighbors house to have dinner and smoke w her and her husband. they are former oddities dealers, their house is full of like massive taxidermy and antique collections, you walk in and the room is covered floor to ceiling, punctuated by a fireplace with a 4ft buddha head blocking it. There is a human ribcage on display in the corner, and this is where the house tour starts. I don't remember every single thing off the top of my head, but on the mantel Specifically was a taxidermy dolphin penis, various crime scene photos, and a taxidermied fetus with it's head replaced with a baby doll's (apparently the body got passed to them after another oddities dealer just. kept the head. and she said it didn't feel right to leave it headless so she made it one herself, which is like fair I guess.) I take a photo of the baby for posterity, because that's insane, it's the only photo I manage to get the rest of the night. They have a pug named Lola who they trained to play a little toy piano whenever she has to go outside, the dog also chooses what shirts she wants to wear out of their laundry every morning. Lola likes me very much.

Along another wall I notice a displayed preserved hand in some sort of orb (didn't touch, don't know what, looked like glass?) and was like "hey that's really cool how do you even get something like that." Her husband asks if I want to see the hand bucket. What the fuck is the hand bucket. I say yes and don't ask him to elaborate.

We head down a very cramped and shoddy set of stairs to their basement, where the woman passes me some disposable gloves and the husband drags this huge Tupperware tub from under an old desk. in the meantime, she shows the "very illegal" tortoise taxidermy they have. I'm not a snitch, but I feel concerned that she offers that info up so easily to someone she'd met exactly twice ever. We get into *why* they're illegal and then the husband is like OK WE'RE GOOD CHECK THIS OUT and I turn back to him and there is 5 (where is the 6th??) whole severed human hands in that tupperware tub. dope. the horror I should probably feel is replaced by scientific curiosity and the need to pick one up and ask for a high five. they are ELATED and remark that im the first person who didn't ask where they got them. I tell them my mom taught me not to look a bucket hand in the palm. they explain that another buddy of theirs works at a body farm for a med school, and he offered to give these preserved leftovers to the couple. Glad to know they're ethically sourced. I tell them so and we keep talking, I'm holding two at a time by the wrist and start absentmindedly gesticulating with them while I talk, this makes them lose their shit like it's the funniest thing they've ever seen. I get embarrassed and hide my face in the hands. Basement tour ensues, they insist I take home a big ass oil painting from the early 20th century to improve (hell yes). I don't get to take a hand home because I didn't ask.

We go back upstairs sans hands and continue looking at the rest of the tiny house; the kitchen and living are pretty normal, I learn that her husband plays upright bass and has a fish sock collection. their bedroom was fucking insane. you walk in and there is this giant, ornate, obviously extremely expensive carved wooden bedframe WITH A TAXIDERMY CANADIAN GOOSE HANGING OVER THE BED LIKE A BABY MOBILE IN ATTACK POSTURE. above the bed is a large still life oil painting, which she moves to reveal an erotic oil painting of a naked lady underneath. Love that.

The room is divided into two distinctly polar opposite halves - her's on the right and her husband's on the left. His side is like creepily organized and lined head to toe with an extensive record and CD collection. Her side actively has multiple lemon trees growing despite the lack of windows and kind of looked like an explosion, unfinished taxidermy pieces and fabric and books. There is a melting wax model of a person in the corner that smells bad, which they start bickering about a little bit in front of me. I'm honestly just impressed.

The wall by the door, facing the bed houses a glass cabinet with another human skeleton inside - mainly a ribcage that shows extensive damage caused by corsets which was also actually really cool, another giant taxidermy bird perched stop it (I don't remember exactly but I think it was an egret?? had a weird beak). He tells me this bird is also very illegal to own and makes a remark that, if they ever wind up having to move, they're probably just going to burn their whole house down so they don't risk getting caught with all this stuff. I don't remember what I said to that, but quite possibly nothing.

With the house tour complete, we order pizza and smoke and I don't really remember much after that, it was stronger stuff than I'm used to so I kind of just honed in on whatever show they decided to marathon. When it got too late, her husband insisted on driving me home with the painting to make sure I got back safe, even when I assured him I could make the trek home just fine, it was like two blocks at most. I think it was pretty sweet for them to actually worry about that kind of thing in spite of the other "we are totally going to crazy murder you" signals. I might try and visit again now that vaccines are rolling out. Also thank u for reading

I genuinely don’t know what to say. Also how is it the only time you said the word creepy was regarding the husbands organized side of the room lmao