My Grandma Is Currently Halfway Through TSH And Yesterday When I Asked Her How She Likes It And She Was

"you got snap or insta?" i have a rope i can hang myself with

do you think Henry would be into bdsm? i’d love to think that he’s a sadist and is into experimenting, like, he loves to “test” some things on his partner in bed and see their reaction. maybe something a little brutal, he probably wouldn’t care too much about safety concerns

this is such a distinctive and notably suitable way to look at his character — thank you for your prompt!

given his questionable morals and recurrent aggressive tendencies, i wouldn’t count that out of the picture at all. it’s already (indirectly) established that he’s a masochist — he prefers not to rely on a cane solely for presentation purposes when he, in fact, desperately needs it due to his leg injury — which is why i wouldn’t consider it anywhere out of the ordinary to attribute sadism to him as well (as those two often go hand-in-hand, specifically on opposite ends of infliction).

and god, yes. he absolutely could be. stoicism and emotional numbness aside, all that tension needs to go somewhere. we know him to become agitated and, at times, even irate — however seldom that may be — and it is precisely those very rare moments we get that have me thinking, what if that anger was directed someplace lascivious? of course, it’s not exactly a healthy concept to bear in mind, but this is all hypothetical, after all. but yes, i absolutely believe he would find immense pleasure in inflicting physical pain, be it to himself or a partner in an intimate setting. he would likewise be the type to test his partner’s limits the farthest he can — just to see where it might lead. clear as day, i can see him entertaining the thought of pushing further and further, it’d entice him greatly.

concerning the actual proceedings: if we stay on the more tame side of things, it’d probably be asphyxiation and rougher manual contact (let’s say slightly rougher manhandling, slapping, spanking, and the like). however, if the preference of the reader were to lie in a generally more extreme range of things, i wouldn’t exclude the additional implication of various objects with the intent of inflicting even greater physical ailment. this is where i prefer to make way for the wonders of one’s imagination, but just to disperse a few ideas: paddles, metal rods, whips — maybe.

i don’t know, something about his so undeniably being stoic and untouchable yet turning around to be such an ardent redirector of energy is so thrilling to take into consideration. thank you for this proposition. it’s all i will be thinking of.

born to always mourn the present like it’s already become a memory

whole life convincing yourself that you’re emotionless, cold and unbothered only to realise many years later that you created that version of yourself because in reality you couldn’t bare the thought of being vulnerable in any way

and when you finally realise that it’s not something to be proud of you also realise that it’s too late to re-learn everything

you feel great shame because you finally see that you weren’t actually strong - all of it was a weakness. the thing you hated the most. you couldn’t embrace it

and worst of all - you realise that you’ve become exactly like the person who hurt you in the beginning

oh the urge to be part of a hedonistic slightly deranged secret society

how can i romanticise studying at awfully modern university? the building is fairly new and of course everything is technically advanced. but there is no soul in it

what should i do to feel very dark academia mysterious historic beautiful classical aesthetic?

i need help i ain’t agreeing with my university years being so basic

do you think henry ever stayed up late unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling in his room thinking about the fact that he had killed two people and didn't hate it. thinking about the fact he might go on to kill more people just for the thrill of it; that if he killed himself he might just be saving the world from another serial killer, and how nice it would be to die the saint and not the sinner

i want to be hugged.

i want someone to stroke my hair.

i want someone to tell me they’re proud of me.

i want someone to hold my hand in public.

i want someone to tell me everything’s gonna be okay.

i want someone to softly caress my skin.

i want someone to teach me their hobbies.

i want someone to explain to me stuff i don’t understand.

i want someone to give me forehead kisses.

i just want to feel safe, for once.

born to be a henry winter forced to be a richard papen