objectum blog keep scrolling bro

dave and hal sharing snacks of your choice

or

gamzee and dirk staring at each other

or

caliborn dressed up as a pickle

or

drunk or otherwise intoxicated alpha dave

Drawn with a regular amount of lust

Why is it hot to call your partner mommy? Why is it hot to have your partner control what you wear? What imagery do you allude to to depict a partner as having reduced agency by virtue of reduced knowledge or awareness? When you speak in a harsh voice to compel a response, what are you alluding to? When you work around childhood trauma or lean into that trauma, what does the potential invocation of that trauma say about how the kink dynamic is viewed? Why are age gaps hot? What does the word 'brat' imply? What does spanking allude to?

not everyone has a marginalisation or a shitty job or a disability or queerness, but everyone was a kid at some point. even folks with good parents understand the way power flows in the parental relationship.

They're finally together

I almost forgot to finish Heavy, thank you for @beefmellington for indirectly reminding me.

His nurse is a nice. A sweet boy who feels his forhead and calls him a brave boy when he has to take blood, who lets him pick what bandaid to use. Who sneaks him an extra juice box and sends him alittle wink.

“Our secret.” It makes his tummy warm.

And his doctor is just as nice too. A man with grey hair and dark eyes, who forces a smile on his tired face. He’s probably seen so much. He sits on the edge of his bed, rubs his legs and takes notes of his vitals.

“Not much improvement today, huh? That’s alright. Just means I get to keep my favorite guy with me yeah?”

His tongue is heavy, too heavy to answer that. His mouth feels dry. His doctor must notice because he’s squeezing his cheeks between one hand and shoving gloved fingers into his mouth. The fingers press down on his teeth, he eyes inside and hums. His fingers squeeze and play with his tongue before pressing farther back into his throat. He used to gag, now he’s too tired and just sits there lax while fingers probe down his throat.

“Good boy. Such a good boy. Really are my favorite patient you know that? The perfect example of patient care.”

He’s not even sure he’s talking to him really. Mostly just saying it for his own benefit. He retracts his fingers and sighs, a soft smile on his face.

“I have to do an examine today.”

Now his face is burning. He hates the exams. The way the doctor sits between his legs, probes at him from the inside. He can feel him in his tummy. Long fingers brush against his softest spots, press and curl on bundles of nerves that make him gasp and pant and squirm. It always makes the doctor laugh, he has to hold his ankle to keep him still.

But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is the wet gush that soaks his bed sheets after. His legs shake and mouth falls open and he’s embarrassed. It’s an exam and he makes a mess, every time. The doctor always soothes him when he starts to cry after, tells him it’s a normal reaction to the exam and he has nothing to be embarrassed about. Perfect patient.

And when he leaves he’ll sit on a freshly made bed, the monitors beeping behind him and the soft plush of a new toy from the gift shop in his hands.

Perfection.

Perfection.