#TSA strip

[gioia-writes-and-others]

OCKISS 2025 / Valentine...

Fuck it! This is what I got for keeping up to procrastinate 😂😂

All wip, the text and the art!

(Potentially this would be one of the last scene in book one....before.....)

The scarred angel / DRAFT ZERO

....

Ashley doesn't say a word but swerves the wheel on the right and pulls the Lincoln on the side of the road.

Break pedal all the way down and handbrake up almost at the same time, the car jolts at the improvised stop.

Her eyes lock with Amy's .

For a moment the only sound filling the air is the engine's humming in the background, then the sharp crack of seat belts unfastening and the driver seat pushed all the way back echoes in the cabin.

Amy's already on Ashley's lap straddling her, urgency consuming.

Hearts ignite and mouths collide.

At first Amy's hands grip Ashley's shoulders to stabilize herself, fingertips digging into the fabric eager of the feeling of the skin underneath, then her left hand stroke up cradling Ashley's face, the pad of her thumb brushing gently the scarred skin while her right slides up  into that mass of hair, fingers curling in.

It's almost an intoxicating relief to finally sink her fingers in, to give in into the softness and the tickling of golden frizzy curls to the point that Amy has to hold back from squeezing too hard.

......

Stay hydrated !!!! 🍻☕🍷☕ 🍹🍻 Tag (np), I wanna see your OCKISS 2025 :

@tragedycoded @the-golden-comet @wyked-rebellion

@mk-writes-stuff @legalownerofufoemoji

@bluefiredesire @aalinaaaaaa @illarian-rambling

@lunaeuphternal @malignant-biomass @zackprincebooks

@castiels-favorite-dumbass @abiteofhoney @vesanal

@peach-the-gospel @jacobwren @inadequatecowboy

@orphanheirs @riveriafalll @saturnine-saturneight

@autism-purgatory @jev-urisk @badscientist

@cowboybrunch @words-after-midnight @the-letterbox-archives

@angofwords @topazadine @aintgonnatakethis

@deanwax @thecomfywriter @leahnardo-da-veggie

@lychhiker-writes @avaseofpeonies @alinacapellabooks

@mapplesand @kaeru483 @lullabynorth

@theeccentricraven @willtheweaver @dnschmidt

@ryns-ramblings @aspiring-dreamer @rivenantiqnerd

@pertweefan1970 @agirlandherquill @innerthoughtsmonologue

@noxxytocin @moltenwrites @distortedsense

[ashleyknoxtrilogy]

🦐 MIXED FRIED / Writing share ( with ART) 🦐

****

THANK YOU for all the open tags to 🦐@the-golden-comet HERE

and HERE and for all the OPEN KISSES tags HERE HERE 🦐

+ various flavors of writing share to 🦐 @tragedycoded HERE ,

🦐 @peach-the-gospel HERE and 🦐 @aalinaaaaaa HERE

****

Wip The scarred angel / DRAFT Zero - actual chp 9 "The den"

ART (IbisPaint, yes, I'm playing with it) + Text under the cut / CW body fluids (?)

.......

What they see are metal bars running from the ground to the ceiling same as a prison cell, bare and completely empty but for the deadly stink of urine mingled with the stale of other non specified substances.

Ashley clenches her teeth while she swipes the rye of the torch's light over the rock walls, the unwilling tension clasping at her nape and the pit of her stomach obviously going unnoticed by the two women with her.

Which is exactly how it has to be.

The lingering stink reminding ammonia's does speak loud enough about people that have been held captive inside.

Now the cell's door has been left locked, the key nowhere to be seen.

Since there is nothing more to check they resume the inspection and walk deeper into the gallery.

.........

..................

Eyes open wide in shock when they push open the second door.

"Is this a lab ?" Amy speaks first, almost in aw, while she takes in the surroundings.

A fair work has been achieved to get this part of the gallery almost matching a typical white collar working space, including a ventilation system and rather some equipment, considering what's been left, to re-create a functional setting.

"They lack on the decoration side..."Amy mutters in bitter irony to balance the surprise.

These walls are bare indeed but for a few office magnetic boards that have been swiped clean, and a regular paper print of the Holy Mary stuck crookedly on the wall near the entrance.

Amy follows Ashley's gaze lingering over that one.

"Do they pray?" she asks not holding back the disbelief in her pitch at the sight of the sacred image.

Pretty much out of place, to say the least, borderline surrealistic.

Ashley's eyes narrow for a moment, brow furrowed, then she shrugs as a response and sweeps her attention across the rest of the space.

....

*************

Drink of the week 🍻☕🍷☕ 🍹🍻 + tag (NP) to :

@cowboybrunch @lavender-gloom @mk-writes-stuff

@deanwax @alinacapellabooks @wyked-ao3

@dismalstation @lunaeuphternal @malignant-biomass

@jacobwren @legalownerofufoemoji

@zackprincebooks @abiteofhoney @vesanal

@inadequatecowboy @bluefiredesire

@oleanderbailey @theeccentricraven @willtheweaver

@mapplesand @dnschmidt

@thecomfywriter @ryns-ramblings

@aspiring-dreamer @illarian-rambling

@cloudyempress8888 @pertweefan1970

@agirlandherquill @leahnardo-da-veggie

@words-after-midnight @the-letterbox-archives @rivenantiqnerd

@noxxytocin @moltenwrites

@innerthoughtsmonologue @jev-urisk

@lychhiker-writes @avaseofpeonies @aintgonnatakethis

@castiels-favorite-hunter @badscientist @saturnine-saturneight @orphanheirs @lullabynorth @riveriafalll

[jupyter-notebook]

getting strip searched by the TSA gave her the ick. guess she don’t like seeing my cavities

[ria-coolgirl]

Awesome art 🤩 @deebrisbyfish

I haven't been on a plane in roughly 20 years, and never since transitioning until now. That said, it turned out that it was all the frustrations and irritations I was already accustomed to that ended up being the issues. Seriously, if this strip ran more than once a week, I could have easily filled a full week of daily strips up with travel chaos. That said, hopefully, this sums it all up well. ;)

[unpretty]

I'm super into cavity search porn, and there's so little I can ever find?? I feel like it must be out there but I'm missing something. I look for cavity search, strip search (this is not invasive enough but it's still nice), TSA, prison intake searches, etc. There's one company that makes a lot of "shoplifter being interrogated" videos, but they usually breeze thru the actual search. I wanna see you digging around in her ass, man.

adjkhadjkha absolutely cracking up at this one ngl. where is the professional pride!! make sure there's no drugs in there before you go sticking your dick in!!!

[chososdiscordkitten]

Synopsis: Gojo tries to convince reader how fun traveling at night can be ;)

Pairing: Gojo x GN!Reader Content: EXHIBITIONISM, reader is kinda mean, oral (m), mentions of previous sexual acts but nothing in detail, VOYEURISM, cum eating, insinuating intercourse

Dedicated to this ask.

MDNI

Traveling with Gojo was always a hassle. Knowing he could technically teleport wherever he wanted. “I like spending time with you between our destinations.” he’d say in defense. 

He would claim he enjoyed the seemingly empty hours of stupid conversations on the road.

Road trips where you were forced to feed him snacks while he drove, watching the sunset in the rearview window as though you were living in some rom-com movie. 

Short 15-minute walks late at night when you stayed up too late and got hungry. 

Even if you had to spend too much time going through TSA just to get on a plane, you deemed obsolete. Satoru always liked the domesticity of acting like ordinary people for a few hours on a plane. Enjoying when you doze off and tip your head on his shoulder. 

And that’s what this was. Another unnecessary way of traveling.

Satoru had told you he wanted to take you to a strip of many shops that sold tasty treats. Only it was a few cities away, and he refused to teleport to it. “That’s part of it! You can’t just go get the sweets. You have to travel for them!” his defense was. 

Satoru had gotten the later train to leave the city, saying something along the lines of ‘We get there around 4am, and we can spend the whole day there.’ 

“Trains are romantic, don’t you think?” Sitting in front of you, on opposite sides of the table booth, with his hands flat on the top. You perked a brow, looking up from your phone and scoffing. 

“I think.. trains are a dated way of travel,” you muttered, looking back down to your phone with tired eyes. Satoru gave out a small giggle, knowing you were weary and fatigued from sitting in the uncomfortable chairs.

“If we had driven,” crossing your ankles as the corner of your lip perked, “maybe, we could’ve had some fun.” you mumbled with a soft grin, looking down at your phone. Hearing a lecherous giggle leave Satoru’s mouth. 

He hummed softly, leaning over on the table, “You wanna go find out where they keep the luggage?” he whispered, a smug smile on his lips. You placed your phone on the table, smiling sweetly at him. 

“No,” you spoke flatly, watching his expression fall with a pout on his lips. “You sit there and think about the consequences of your actions.” You scoffed, picking up your phone again and scrolling. 

Satoru looked out the window, watching the land zoom past him, then flashing his eyes, looking over to the opposite booth you were in. Noting it was empty, eyeing the dim lights above your head. A pensive smile on his lips as he conjured up ways to convince you to let up. 

You sighed, placing your phone on the table and pressing the back of your head onto the plush headrest, extending your legs and placing one between Gojo’s thighs. Right where the edge of his seat was. 

Holding your foot up as you ignored the sound of Satoru’s mind reeling up the idea he had deemed brilliant. His smile practically beamed as he inched his hand down to your ankle. 

Satoru was no angel when it came to showing his affection in public. He saw travel with you as a form of foreplay, knowing that even if people were around, they wouldn’t remember a seemingly affectionate couple. 

The first time he propositioned, it was on a plane, asking if you had ever fucked in the air To which you scoffed, ‘Those things are far too small for two people standing. Let alone for two people to fuck.’

Gojo proved you very, very wrong. 

Then came a time when you kept teasing him as he drove, sun setting- bordering on being gone as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Leaning over and playing with his unbusied hand. 

That ended with you jacking him off as he drove, kissing his ear and his temple as he kept two hands gripping the steering wheel. “Focus on driving, or else you’ll crash~” you giggled in his ear. 

Eventually, getting frustrated enough to pull over on the side of the empty highway and fuck you senseless. 

The walks you’d take late at night, the excuse of snacks was used whenever someone asked what you were doing out so late. The truth being, Satoru holding a little control in his pocket, watching you stutter over your own steps from vibrations. Finding thrill in knowing you had a little toy burrowed inside of you that he got to control.

Satoru liked traveling with you because the hours spent on the road seemed unreal. As though it was only the two of you held still in time. Quality time spent with you was all he asked for. 

But, the instances where things got hot and heavy only caused that little voyeur part in his brain to itch. The idea of potentially getting caught was exhilarating to Gojo. 

And here he was, thinking of how easily you could be caught here. Holding your ankle and moving it up his growing bulge slowly. Earning your eyes to snap open and look at the deranged man sitting across the table from you. 

You tried pulling your ankle from his palm, only for his grip to tighten with a prize-winning smile decorating his expression. You purse your lips, about to mutter a curse at him for what he was doing. 

That was till you felt the bottom of your socked sole press against his clothed erection. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him like a mad man, “I didn’t even do anything..?” you spoke through clenched teeth. Referring to Gojo always blaming you for how reactive his cock was around you. 

He always blamed you for doing something that caused his member to rise. “You told me to think about the consequences of my actions-” he scoffed, his eyes lowering and holding your foot to his bulge. 

You shrugged softly, wanting to know what he would put the blame on this time, “You know how much I like when you talk to me like that.” slowly moving your foot to press firmer on his clothed erection. 

You nodded your head disapprovingly, a smug smile gracing your lips. Flashing your eyes to the side to see if the train attendants were near. “I already checked~” he grinned, loosening his grip on your ankle. 

“It’s almost empty- and the attendants don’t do their rounds right now.” Gojo spoke softly. In retaliation, you pressed your foot down the tiniest bit- causing Satoru to let out a choked whimper. 

“That so?” you whispered, curling your toes in the slightest and watching his eyebrows pinch up. Grinning sarcastically, “You researched the train attendant’s schedules?” pressing the arch of your socked foot onto his bulge and watching him writhe with squinted eyes. 

Satoru fluttered his eyes closed, pressing the back of his head onto the seat and sighing softly, “You’re getting off on this..?” you scoffed in disbelief, continuing the slow maneuver with your foot. He only smiled in response, crinkling his nose in the slightest when you’d apply more pressure. 

His fingers barely wrapped around your ankle, some kind of insurance to be sure you wouldn’t pull it away. Gojo’s cock shed small tears of precum onto his briefs from the small movements. 

You gasped quietly, watching the light blush on his cheeks spread down his neck. “You are, aren’t you?” you teased, seeing his closed eyes flex tightly. You scoffed as he parted his lips, coming dangerously close to letting out a small moan. 

The corner of your lip peaked in a smug half-smile, easing the pressure on his bulge and feeling his grasp on your ankle tighten again. “There’s not much I can do here, ‘toru.” you crooned in feigned pity. 

You pulled your ankle from his grasp and watched his eyes snap open, “Don’t want you to make a mess.” you excused softly. Seeing the slight pout form on his lip from your denial.

And it was true; there was nowhere for Satoru to spurt his mess. And as he was thinking of ways to solve this little issue, only you had already come up with a solution.

Getting handsy in the car, even fucking in a plane bathroom- all that was one thing. Being able to rely on the small amount of privacy, but what you were conjuring- 

Gojo looked off to the side, tapping his foot on the ground as he tried to think something up. Only by the time he looked back at you, you were already shifting off the seat and under the table. He furrowed his eyebrows with a meek smile- realizing that, like most of the time, you were always right. 

He let out a small giggle, looking down at his lap and seeing your hands creeping up his thighs. 

Getting frisky with a veil between you and other people was one thing. Still, what you were insinuating- there was a much higher chance of being caught than any of the other times. All it took was one person to look too closely under the table to see you kneeling. 

You traced your hand to his inner thigh, feeling the light shiver that ran through the muscle. Lip tucked between your teeth as you grazed your fingers on his caged cock. Hearing him let out a small whimper, looking up at him from the small space and shushing him. 

“You have to be quiet ‘toru,” you whispered with an overexcited grin. Reaching for the band of Gojo’s sweatpants and pulling it down, revealing his strained boxers with a darkening spot where his tip was. 

Satrou’s hands gripped the ledge of his seat, pressing his lips tightly against each other to not make any noise. 

You pursed your lips, blowing gently onto the damp spot of his briefs and feeling his legs shift on either side of your arms. Darting your tongue past your lips and leaning in, a stifled whimper fell from his taught lips as you dragged your tongue against his clothed shaft. 

Letting out a small laugh from your nose as you circled your tongue onto the damp spot where his tip was. Feeling his body twitch from the millimeter difference between your tongue and his cock. 

Satoru parted his lips with a slight huff, “You have to hurry- no teasing-” You pursed your lips against the fabric, kissing his veiled tip softly. Causing a shuddering inhale to escape his lungs. 

You smiled as you pulled away, teasingly, “I can just stop if you-” inching your hands onto his knees. 

“No, no-” he breathed, “Don’t stop.” he muttered, looking down to your glimmering eyes and parted lips. 

Trailing your hands back up his thighs, hooking your fingers onto the band of his ruined briefs, and pulling them down. Satoru winced at feeling the tug of the band against his shaft. 

Gojo gasped quietly when his tip almost touched the edge of the table. Placing a light hand on the base of his shaft, angling it down, and hearing his hands grip the seat harshly. Bracing for the warmth of your lips. 

You leaned your head down, lips parted and eyes looking up at his bordering-on pained expression. Placing warm, open-mouth kisses on his suede shaft, leaving light glimmers of your spit as his thighs trembled beside you. 

Gojo’s eyebrows were pinched upwards, bottom lip daring to tremble as you licked a long stripe from the underside of his base up to his pinkening tip. His wrists threatened to plant themselves on the side of your head, trembling as you pulled away. Your lips curl as you pursed them, pressing gentle kisses onto his leaking tip. 

Hearing a slight hum rumble from his lungs as you pulled away slightly, parting your lips and placing your tongue onto your bottom lip. 

Pressing his tip onto the flat of your tongue, sliding down ever so slightly before closing your lips on the edge of his cockhead. Earning a choked exhale to come from Satoru’s puffy lips.

Slightly pulsing your tongue up against the underside of his tip, inciting small huffs of air from his lips as you tighten your grasp on his shaft. Blinking your eyes up and watching his jaw dare to fall.

Circling your tongue on his tip in tandem with your other slow stroking hand on his shaft, holding your other hand on his thigh as you blinked your eyes closed. Softly sucking on his tip as you fisted his shaft. 

Satoru closed his eyes- tight. So tight he saw white dots in his vision, biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark. Bowing his head down, snapping his hand atop yours. Meeting on his thigh, trying his very best not to make a sound. 

Per his request, you wanted to make this as fast as possible. 

But, the tiny trembles of his hand against yours were enough to slowly lap at the tears falling from his cockhead. The stifled whimpers that were muffled from his lips were enough to drag out every stroke your hand made on his shaft.

Sucking in your cheeks around his head, bottom of your tongue licking small stripes on the little v beneath his cockhead. His knees threatened to snap you between them as the tip of your tongue swished up and down his cocks opening, earning an audible shuddering whimper to fall from his nibbled lips. 

The corner of your lips stretched into a smile around his cock, knowing if one whimper came out, more would follow. 

And as he exploits your most sensitive spots, just for a reaction- how unfair would it be if you didn’t do the same?

Humming small vibrations onto his tip, knowing that would coax another whimper from his strained vocal cords. And as you expected, he let out an unpermitted whimper. A lot louder than you were expecting and a lot more pathetic than the ones he would typically voice. 

The hand on his thigh was aching from how hard he was gripping onto you, even if you hadn’t done much. Satoru knew the thrill of doing this in public was what drove him further up his orgasm. 

And as Gojo felt the warmth in his tummy forcefully pool, he was about to mutter a warning. That was until he opened his eyes and saw a stewardess walking down the small walkway. 

He pinched his eyebrows, biting his lip almost too harshly as you stroked him. Looking down at you with panicked eyes as he heard the footsteps pass by him; only your eyes were closed. Too focused on teasing him to notice the distant pattering of steps, Satoru parted his lips with the quietest whimper he could muster. 

He tried murmuring your name as some kind of warning to advise you that he was- “I’m gonna c-” Satoru whispered as he exhaled with a higher pitch at the end of his warning. Only earning for your eyes to blink open as you sucked harshly on his tip. 

Gojo’s torso started lightly spasming as he felt you pull an orgasm out of him- eyebrows pinched together with an eye twitching closed. Lips parted in a quiet whine, and his cheeks beet red. 

His cockhead quivered between your lips as you stroked his shaft with a tenacious grip, working him through the orgasm as his seed slowly oozed from his tip. 

Your tongue greedily lapped up the hot tears of white- replaying the ‘Don’t want you to make a mess.’ in your mind as you swallowed his essence. 

Coating the cavern of your mouth with a light film as he fought off the whimpers and whines you dared him to spill. 

Satoru tried coming down from the pinnacle you threw him off- only your mouth and fist refused to let up. 

Stroking him relentlessly as his hips started to shift in his seat. He looked down at you, nose crinkled with squinted eyes. Feeling your gluttonous tongue lap up any drop that your hand milked from his cock. 

All but telling him with your tongue that you wanted to be sure he wouldn’t make a mess. 

His cock tried to soften in your mouth- but your lips had other plans. Satoru started writhing in his seat, snapping his hands onto the side of your head and pulling you from his cock- too afraid he wouldn’t be able to control his pretty sounds if you kept on. 

Looking down at you- lips puffy and pink, hazy cerulean eyes, and his blush so intense, it looked like he was in the middle of July. 

You grinned, feeling his thumb caress the edge of your jaw, pressing on the tip of your chin, coaxing you to open. To make sure you did as you said you would. 

His nose crinkled in appeasement, a half fucked out smile on the corner of his perching lips. Admiring the way you opened your mouth and slipped your flat tongue out. Showing him you swallowed, getting rid of any evidence or mess he would’ve left had you continued with your arches. 

You assisted in placing his semi-soft cock back into his briefs, patting his thighs before you slipped back up into your seat. 

Smiling at him with half-lidded eyes and crossed arms. Being able to see his expression, his eyes shouting at you for more. 

You pressed your thighs together, watching his shoulders tense. “You wanna go find out where they keep the luggage?” you flashed a toothy smile, watching his eyes light up and nod excitedly. Scoffing with a warm grin as you slipped your shoes back on. 

And in that moment, you thought that maybe- just maybe Satoru had a point in how exciting traveling really was.

-

(a.n) I wanna eat him.

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ NAUGHTY GIRL. ❞

— minors dni, gojo x afab! reader, they’re both sassy, poly! stsgverse, he plays w/ your tits, sequel to “YOU LITTLE THIEF!”

A cool breeze awaits as you burst into mostly darkness. There’s a few headlights in the parking lot, other patrons coming or going. Glancing back, you catch sight of Gojo nearing the shoe rack. You curse his longer legs, and the color of Geto’s car which blends into the pitch blackness outside. You decide to run in the vague direction of where he parked, hoping it yields results that aren’t Gojo immediately catching up to you. Hopefully people don’t find you too suspicious, the way you’re ducking and weaving through cars to stay out of sight. Gojo’s nowhere to be found whenever you peep back to spot him. It raises the hairs on your arms, makes things a lot more suspenseful as if you’re trying to avoid some kind of knife-wielding murderer in a horror movie.

You finally spot Geto’s car, close to the back of the lot, and dive behind it so you’re next to the driver’s side door. Catching your breath takes a few seconds — you’re lucky his alarm isn’t activated to give you away. Approaching footsteps raise your heart rate, but it’s just some gaggle of teenagers walking by. Or a young a couple on their way inside. Not yet a white-haired man looking to do you harm (take his phone back).

Quietly, or as quietly as you can on gravel, you lift yourself up to peek through Geto’s dark, tinted windows. Despite being akin to a lighthouse tower, Gojo is nowhere to be spotted. It dawns on you that he might also be using cars as refuge. Perhaps if you looked underneath, you’d be able to spot him? Alright, let’s see, you think, lowering and regretting the idea as soon as your knees meet harsh rock. You look back, forth, back again. Nothing. What in the hell…?, you rise back to your feet, not noticing the looming, dark shadow approaching with abnormally quiet steps. Where the fuck did he go?

“Gotcha!” And Gojo muffles your terrified shriek with a large hand, other hand on your waist to pin you to the black car. “Aww, were you lookin’ for me down there, gorgeous?”

Brows drawn together, you inspect the place behind him, too concerned with how in the world he got behind you. He lets you strip his hand from your face to question him. “Where did you come from?”

Gojo grins, tilts his head a little to the side. “Can’t go around revealing my secrets now, can I?”

He takes delight in your unamused look, and your scoff. “What are you, a magician?”

“Nope, but you are. So make my phone appear, right now.”

“Or what? Are you gonna pat me down, Mr. TSA?”

Regret, immediately, as he rolls his eyes in thought. “Actually. Yeah, I am!”

You watch as Gojo pats your arms, waist, legs, one bold pat on your behind, before patting at your shoes. “You think your phone could fit in there?”

He looks up, and the sight of Gojo on his knees before you kind of makes you feel powerful. Like a deity. “I have to be thorough.” He pats you a little harder on the way back up, avoiding your chest, and pouts when he still finds nothing. “The hell? Where is it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Brat, he thinks. Gojo’s hands squeeze over your waist, pressing you against the car again. He leans over you until your foreheads are almost touching. “Give it here. Crook.”

That only prompts your giggle in response, e/c eyes never leaving the blues of his. Your hands fiddle with the edge of Gojo’s shirt, and he opens his mouth for another word before there’s a vibration from your chest.

Both pairs of eyes flicker to the faint glow beneath your shirt, and the bravado plummets from your face. “O-oh…”

He looks back up to grin at you. “Found it. I’ll be taking it back now.”

Before you can complain, Gojo slips a hand beneath your top, working his way up until it rests atop your bra, where he finds his phone half-tucked inside. Your breath stutters when his fingers slip underneath, smoothing over your nipple as he pinches the phone and tugs it downward. His other hand glides upwards to take it, and Gojo slips the phone in his pocket, but leaves one hand resting against your bare breast.

“Naughty girl.,” he scolds, thumbing over the stiffening bud. “Why was it in there huh? Did you plan this out?”

You fumble for a response. “I–, no–“

“Because,” a roll of your nipple has you arching into Gojo, where he wraps an arm around your waist. “You could’ve just asked, if you wanted me touch you. Use your words next time, baby.”

His lips make a home on your skin, placing gentle kisses along your neck, jawline, cheeks. It drives a series of mewls and whimpers from you, causes your thighs to clench together around his leg. “G–et off m-me, I’m going back ins-side.”

“Tryna run away again?,” Gojo mocks you, nipping at the sensitive part of your neck. “Cute. Sure, we can go back inside.” He gives a hard suck on the skin, sure to leave a mark, before pulling away to catch your hazy eyes. “You gonna behave for me?”

Even though Gojo can see right through you, needily panting and pushing your chest further into his palm, you still choose to be a little difficult. “Behave? Like some puppy—“

You yelp, him having tugged at your nipple, pinching it between his fingers. “Yep, like my good girl. Play nice, no more stealing or it’s wraps, got it?”

There’s an underlying threat in his statement, one that prods at your curiosity. But you decide to play along for now. “Fine.”

He gives your face another kiss, close to your lips. “Don’t like the way you said it. Again, with less attitude.”

“I didn’t have an attitude.”

“Well, you definitely have one now, so do it again.”

You roll your eyes, catching his expectant stare. His hand twitches at the bat of your lashes, the jut of your lip, eyes widening in an adorable pout. “I’ll be such a good girl for you, Satoru.” The way you purr his name is like gold in his ears. Gojo can feel a throbbing within his pants, but his hands retreat for now to leave you be. You’ll be sure to act up again, and he’s gonna let you have it when you do.

tagz: @staryukis @anthoosies

[causticaprine]

child predator = pedophile

hey, I'll bite. I'm taking this ask in good faith, because this isn't a very often discussed topic. people are afraid that a nuanced perspective on this will result in harsh social punishment.

to say this is to say that thoughts = action. this is harmful because it targets people who aren't dangerous to anyone, but more importantly because it excuses sexual abuse that isn't for the purposes of sexual gratification. checking a child's genitals because you suspect they may be trans, as is increasingly becoming legal in many school districts, is not necessarily pedophilia, but it is child sexual assault. TSA or the police strip searching a child or teenager is not necessarily pedophilia, but it is sexual assault. anyone who would do this should be considered a predator, regardless of the presence or lack of any paraphilia. watching a sufficiently capable child undress because you feel they must be supervised can be predatory in many contexts, again, regardless of intent. using one's position of power to put children in a sexually vulnerable position when it is not either medically necessary, or for that child's assistance, is predatory. this is regardless of their motivations, even when their methods are seen as socially acceptable. when we allow pedophilia and child predation to become synonymous, we allow systemic child abuse to slip through the cracks.

additionally, when we allow thoughts in and of themselves to be considered evil, we can project the presence of those bad thoughts onto anyone we don't like. this is rooted in Catholic guilt, because in terms of historic Catholicism, and even contemporary Christianity, guilt is money. this is not a pragmatic view point to have. we already see this with the transmisogynistic and queerphobic practice of pedojacketing. queer people are often seen as sexually deviant by nature, and are often the victims of having pedophilia projected onto them regardless of its presence. the only way to become immune to this propaganda is to realize that thought crime isn't real, and I'm not going to believe anyone to be a predator if they aren't causing harm themselves, or consuming content that was created through sexual abuse and exploitation.

[hornytdickthoughts]

getting ready for a flight thinking about how exciting it would be to have you with me

once we got through TSA I would duck into the bathroom and slip in a remote controlled vibrator into my cunt like you command

then all while we wait for our gate to board, I sit and shake in anticipation, feeling how wet and hard I am in my boxers as we distract ourselves before our flight, you show me funny videos and we play little word games but I can’t focus on anything but the fact that you have the remote in your pocket

after we board and are seated, you rest your hand on my thigh, running up and down and I’m practically shaking, you lean over and whisper in my ear to remind me to be a good quiet puppy, no one can know about our little game

as the plan starts taxing the runway, you take out the remote, and as it starts to pick up speed you turn on the lowest setting, my body jolts and shivers feeling it inside me

as the plane starts to take off, the loud engines blasting, you turn it up further and I squeeze my thighs together as it hits me in the right spot, I lean over and press my face into your arm, knowing I probably look like I’m terrified of planes to anyone around

right as I’m getting close I squeeze your arm tight and bite into the skin of your neck, and gasp silently as the pleasure builds before you turn it back down before I can go over the edge

you turn the vibrator down but not off, and pull out your phone to play a movie you downloaded for us to watch

and throughout the flight I can feel the vibrator change in pace, getting me worked up until I’m almost about to beg, as if you can hear my thoughts, you gently put your arm around me and pull me close so that I can lean against you

i just know as soon as we land and get to our destination, I’m stripping naked and presenting for you to fill me immediately

[ashleyknoxtrilogy]

🦐🦐 Mixed Fried Writing Share 🦐🦐

Soooooooooooo late!!! It might start to smell a bit !

As usual thank you for the tag to :

@the-golden-comet HERE HERE HERE (lots of kisses) HERE and HERE (lots of seven sentences and yes I'm awfully late)

to @wyked-original-writing HERE , @theeccentricraven HERE and HERE , @aalinaaaaaa HERE and @tragedycoded HERE

****

From TSA / The scarred angel - Ashley Knox book 1

DRAFT ZERO and back to chapter (8 ? ) + smug smile sketch in progress

****

...................

For now Ashley decides to not push it.

She still thinks that she's going to get Amy's back on the safe side of the border sooner than later.

In the meantime they finally managed to get into that fucking red mercedes and drive away.

............

............

"We'll better make a stop." Ashley states.

Amy rummages on the top pocket of her backpack : "I still have some money and my credit card, we can find something for the night and....SHIT!" 

Ashley gives her a surprised look.

"I have to call Phil!"

Who's Phil?

The question crosses Ashley's mind but she doesn't voice it.

"He must be worry sick, if he already got a news about what happened...." Amy's voice trails off, clearly concerned by that eventuality.

She glares at Ashley : "Too bad, I don't have my phone anymore though..."

Ashley barely arches a brow mostly unimpressed by both the implications and the sarcasm held in the remark but still takes note of Amy's urgency : "We'll get a burner at the next gas station."

Right...

The question sounds stupid in her own head but Amy asks anyway : "What about you? Don't you have someone to call?"

At first Amy is met with the usual silence in the guise of an answer, Ashley's gaze stay fixed at the road ahead.

She's not eager to talk with the chief because he'll ask about Amy and Ashley really doesn't look forwards to answer about that.

Instead she spiels off to herself that Amy will call this Phil guy alright and she'll get whatever flight in a couple of day at the most, away from there.

Ashley will be done with it.

Also, it's unlikely that Herrera knows more than her right now anyway, so, what's the point?

Let the man cook for a couple of days.

"I'll keep in mind to call Herrera, just not today." she cuts it short.

Amy says nothing at first, slightly confused by the unexpected lack of enthusiasm.

Not that the events of the last couple of hours would prove otherwise, it's more likely he needs her than she needs him.

Beside, that girl is a mystery.

Amy's mind wanders to a few days before at the police headquarters and the chief telling the story of how him and Ashley had met.

She can't help to wonder what Ashley's life has been like since.

Has she really been by herself all this time?

Amy's the opposite of a person with an intense social life but finds difficult to believe that Ashley just keep strolls by herself through such a hostile world.

She has known hostile but this is a new different level.

Does Ashley live too in survive mode?

Even with having been directly involved with her endeavors the last couple of hours everything Amy's witnessed still feels alien to her and she certainly must return the same impression.

And yet ..... a flickering thought pops, tastes like certitude.

The most alien of all even if she's still anxious to call Phil to not keep him worried in the dark.

Contentment.

Unexpected contentment.

Being with Ashley makes her content in the weirdest way.

......

*********

Tag (np) for a writing share and a drink too 🍻☕🍷☕ 🍹🍻 :

@castiels-favorite-hunter @jacobwren @zackprincebooks @abiteofhoney

@deanwax @alinacapellabooks @wyked-ao3

@vesanal @bi0mass @inadequatecowboy @bluefiredesire

@orphanheirs @lullabynorth @riveriafalll @oleanderbailey

@dierama-mojo @mapplesand

@dnschmidt @badscientist @thecomfywriter @ryns-ramblings

@kaeru483 @aspiring-dreamer @illarian-rambling

@lyutenw @lychhiker-writes

@cloudyempress8888 @pertweefan1970 @agirlandherquill @authorcoledipalo @leahnardo-da-veggie

@davycoquette @lavender-gloom @saturnine-saturneight @cowboybrunch @words-after-midnight

@the-letterbox-archives @motheyesofnight @rivenantiqnerd @noxxytocin @moonsbetween

@angofwords @moltenwrites @topazadine @redmiguelito @innerthoughtsmonologue

@jev-urisk @avaseofpeonies @aintgonnatakethis @autism-purgatory @willtheweaver

[bisexual-engineer-guy]

My ass gonna get stopped by TSA I just know it with all my wires and batteries and shit and my last name there ain't no way I'm getting through this without a strip search or smth 😭 I hope my 128 Wh LiFePO4 ain't a problem lol

[nottellingofname]

I got a bad idea - Satoru Gojo

"Oh my God, I'm soaked!"

"I have that effect on girls."

“Satoru!” you bark, flinging your helmet at his stupidly smug face. “You know what I meant! Where the hell did that rain come from?! Was that, like, divine punishment or something?!”

You're back at your place—which, tragically, shares a fence with Satoru’s. He’s been your neighbor since the dawn of time (a.k.a. since you were ten and his mom moved in next door).

Most of the time, the two of you hang out at your house because, let’s be real, his room looks like a biohazard zone made entirely of takeout containers, dirty socks, and crushed hopes of hygiene. You're 98% sure at least three girls have caught something just by sitting on his bed.

“As we know,” he begins in his faux-professor voice, “rain is water that has been—”

“Oh, shut up and hand me that towel before I waterboard you.”

He laughs, throws you the towel hanging off your doorknob, then promptly peels off his soaked hoodie like he’s auditioning for a thirst trap calendar.

“So what’s the plan for today, Y/N?” he asks while you towel yourself off and shiver dramatically. “Shoko and Suguru hit me up. There’s a party later—”

“Nope. Not happening,” you say, marching straight to the bathroom like you’ve just seen the gates of hell. “I’m not doing another one of your Gremlin raves.”

“But Y/NNNNNN!” he whines from your room like a six-foot-five toddler. “It’s not fun when you’re not there! Come on, just tonight? I’ll even suffer through that Maze Runner movie you keep threatening me with.”

You pause mid-strip in the bathroom. “Are you saying you’ll actually sit through Death Cure with me?”

“Yes. Now come to the party. Pretty please. With shirtless Dylan O'Brien on top.”

You squint at your own reflection, weighing your options while yanking on your bra and oversized hoodie.

“Fine. One condition,” you say, flipping off the bathroom light. “We hit the gym first. If I’m going to wear a dress, I want to at least look like I didn’t crawl out of a cave. Will you come with me?”

Satoru’s gaze skims down your body like he’s a TSA scanner with no sense of shame.

“Watch you stretch and do squats in leggings? Oh, absolutely. I’m not skipping leg day—if you catch my drift.”

You snort and turn to your dresser. “If I catch your drift, I’m throwing it in the bin. I just need to find my tights and then we’re good.”

You bend down to dig through your bottom drawer, rummaging through socks, pantyhose, and leg warmers like a woman on a mission.

“Damn, Y/N.”

“What?”

You look over your shoulder and find Satoru laid out like a satisfied cat on your bed, eyes glued to your ass with zero shame.

“That ass, though.”

Your entire soul leaves your body.

“SATORU GOJO!”

He throws his head back in laughter while you scramble to yank your hoodie over your butt like it’s suddenly become a national monument.

You’re blushing—which is rude—because he’s seen you like this a million times before. He just never commented on it with that tone.

“You absolute perv,” you growl, hurling your hairbrush at him. To your dismay, he catches it midair like he’s in a shampoo ad for delinquent heartthrobs.

“You can’t flaunt perfection and expect me to just sit there in silence,” he says with a shameless grin. “Especially when it’s wrapped in black lace.”

“Whatever. Keep your filthy thoughts in your brain.”

“I will,” he says, still smirking. “But damn, Y/N, if we weren’t friends? I’d be hitting that. And I don’t just mean metaphorically.”

You scoff, turning back to your drawer like you didn’t just short-circuit for a second. “Too bad we are friends then, huh?”

There’s a brief pause—just you and the sound of frustrated rummaging.

Then suddenly, a warm hand is squeezing your ass like it owes him money.

You yelp, grabbing the edge of the drawer for support. “Satoru Gojo, what the hell are you doing?!”

His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you back against him. “We could be more than friends, you know.”

Oh no. You feel his lips by your ear, his stupid minty breath on your shoulder, and a very obvious situation happening against your lower back. Classic Gojo—horny and out of pocket.

You turn your head just enough to look him dead in his pretty teal eyes. “Are you seriously putting the moves on me right now?”

“Maybe,” he says, his smirk widening. “Is it working?”

You arch a brow. “Not even a little.” (It totally is, and you are a goddamn liar.) “Now get your hand off my ass before I remove it with a crowbar.”

He chuckles, gives you one last squeeze—rude—and steps back, completely unbothered. Meanwhile, you're pretty sure you just creamed your panties.

“Don’t worry, I’m just teasing,” he says casually, as if he didn’t just commit a felony with his hands.

You scowl at him while you pull on your tights like a warrior preparing for battle. “Keep dreaming, Gojo. I’m not one of your bimbo conquests.”

“I know,” he replies, the smirk still dripping off his voice. “You’re something else.”

You roll your eyes so hard they nearly detach. Ponytail secured, bag slung over your shoulder, you spin toward him. “Alright, I’m good. You ready?”

He’s still staring at you. Or, more accurately, the massive tent in his pants is staring at you.

“Oh, for the love of God,” you groan. “Stop ogling my ass! We’re going to work out, not star in amateur porn. And I’m not walking downstairs with Gojo Junior doing the national salute.”

He just chuckles and licks his lips in that godawful slow-mo way. “You know the fastest way to take care of it. Wanna assist?”

You shoot him a death glare. “No. I am not lending you a hand. And if you even think about jerking off in my room, I will make you imagine your grandma’s dentures every time you get horny.”

He visibly cringes—but somehow still smirks. “Fine, fine. Give me a minute. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

You sigh, hoisting your duffle bag over your shoulder with the weariness of a woman who’s seen too much. “Whatever, horn-dog. Don’t touch anything in my room.”

Listen to Satoru's Playlist? / Listen to everyone's playlist?

[ttrpg-smash-pass-vs]

On the left, Yuan-ti Mind Whisperer! You wanted a snake person, right? That's what last tournament taught us? We're just getting every possible variation! Human sized, can turn into a snake, and have magic to hypnotize, charm, read minds, make illusions, and even clean the bedsheets in seconds. They're elusive, sneaky, manipulative, unpredictable, and notorious for making and breaking alliances with multiple competing factions. But hey. we can see that lack of junk down there. Which means it's likely the retractable kind you find on snakes. Y'all know where I'm going with this by now. Hemepenes, double cloaca extension, each hooked up to a separate teste so they don't have to rest while one's recovering!

On the right, the Abishai are Tiamat's personal devils, the white one being the dumbest and lowliest. If you served Tiamat and she liked you, you become this when you die! They're about 7 ft (2.1 m) tall and can bite you if you slap them!...yeah that's as close to a special power as they got, but they don't need special powers! They're brave, love a good fight, have weirdly long arms, and apparently often work for the TSA. Yeah that's not a joke, they do strip searches and such if you're travelling to thier checkpoint after getting off a boat. They get a kick out of humiliating people.

[kat-is-laem-oa]

Chapter 1: PanDEMONium

(Next Chapter)

Mornings always proved challenging, and the comfort of his bed only made the negative feelings about his situation stronger. No amount of sunshine could brighten his mood in recent years, nor could the fluff of his blanket as the light disappeared and his room darkened once more. No extreme or mixture within gave him a sense of comfort.

His oldest friend, Raphael, made it a point to include him despite their opposing heritage. The far-too-old Shadowhunter befriending the vampiric member of Hotel DuMort would be humorous to their kin. The two species couldn’t get along despite their similar situations—being hunted for their blood.

Raphael was unique, just like his people. Eljah wished he could share the same sentiment with his own people, but he’d felt their wrath before and it was a losing game. Although, technically, he was one of a kind. He didn’t have people or true kin because he was an abomination. And abominations don’t get the luxury of friends and family.

“I’m supposed to be hiding in the shadows, not you,” Raphael sighed as he walked into the room. Candles illuminated the room and the blackout curtains prevented the deadly sunlight from getting in.

“I might as well be just as allergic as you, Rafa.”

“Hardly. Up.” Raphael lifted the plush white blanket before grasping onto Eljah’s arm. With multiple complaints and some unkind words, the small boy was upright. His hair was always messy, conscious or unconscious, to the point it became a style. Random silver strips contrasted the shadowy brown overtaking his head. Over the previous months, his hair grew longer, making him feel more feminine than he could have while growing up. If the downworld thought Shadowhunters were bad now, they could rest easy with the image of the Clave’s earlier days.

“What is the nest up to today?” The two had known each other for a long time; long enough to not shy away at the sight of skin and boxers. Eljah crossed to his dresser while Raphael spoke, jumping with the change in temperature upon contact.

“Nothing you have to worry about, even though I know you will.” Raphael laughed at the little hops Eljah made while dressing himself.

“I can’t help it. You guys are stuck with me now, so I have no choice but to care.”

Eljah slid a pair of shorts that rested low against his hips and a t-shirt that drowned him. August was his least favorite month because it was inevitably the hottest one. Manhattan sucked in the humid weather and bubbled it until a rush of cold would pop it. You either stayed in your home or flocked to an indoor business—Eljah’s goal tonight—to beat the heat.

“That is true, my mistake,” Raphael poked fun, receiving a stare from the male opposite him, “but seriously, just enjoy your night and I’ll find something for you to do this week, hm?”

“You said that last week, Santiago.”

“Damn, we are going by last names now, Winterscaar?”

“Oh, bruto gross, no. My mistake,” Eljah repeated. The two shared hushed giggles, but eventually it went silent. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but Raphael’s aura became serious; Eljah hated to watch the swirls switch from bright yellow to mushy turquoise when he went into big-brother mode.

“There’s something out there that will make you happy. I know it. Maybe it’s here in the nest or on the other side of New York. Hell, another continent. I’ll help you find it.”

“How are you gonna find it if it’s on another continent? TSA will have to mark you as combustible material before you step foot on a plane.”

“Not funny.”

“It’s a bit funny, mano…” Raphael choked back a sigh, already used to the flammability jokes.

Raphael seemed to have more to say, but a knock sounded at the door. Raphael went to check it and Eljah activated the LED lights built into all the rooms. Eljah heard basic mumbles and words of confirmation before Raphael exited, saluting to his best friend.

Eljah knew what time it was already. Every day had a clockwork aspect to them, and he’d long since adjusted to the schedule of vampires. As his day started, most ended. It made slipping into night life easier and letting himself deal with emotions in his own way: drunk and/or high.

“You don’t look 22,” the bodyguard argued. Eljah had taken the time to walk his way to the club (and pre-game smoke). He didn’t fully feel the effects, but the immediate boost in confidence after every hit had him ready to make a bold move if needed. He wanted to cave his own head in every time someone accused him of being underage.

“That seems racially motivated.” He enjoyed watching people’s faces when he threw out that card. It was a common misconception amongst those who have never met shadowhunters that they were all pale-skinned white dudes with insane amounts of tattoos. Eljah himself was technically white, but it was the minority of his genetics. His father was Puerto Rican, and he’d grown up in San Juan before integrating into the Mexico City Institute. He found New York bland compared to the colorful buildings, streets, and culture of his hometown.

The man guarding the door was not white either. “Go back home, kid.”

“Este imbécil,” rolling his amber eyes. He placed his hands upon his eyelids, allowing the energy in his bones to circulate. Within milliseconds, the silvery cover slithered over his vision and the energy connected to the bodyguard’s light and powdery one. Eljah focused on forcing a command into the other man’s consciousness.

A voice echoed, “ah, ah, ah, no need,” a veil laid itself over his magic, “it’s not nice to compel random people.”

“Do you gain anything from that?”

“Just slight amusement,” the acicalao with short, spiked hair responded, “I know every warlock in Brooklyn, but I don’t know you. Why’s that?”

“New in town.”

“Are you now? Well, then, why don’t I introduce you to a little New York nightlife, hm?”

“The only thing I need introduced to is something strong.”

“That can be arranged. Come on in.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

Too many hyperfixations, so much to do! I'm so tired of seeing no malec x reader, they'd totally be poly in another universe.

[enmstorytime]

The ENM Convention

(This is a work of fiction. Unless... )

Dear ENM Fans,

You are cordially invited to the first ever Embarrassed Naked Male Convention. The convention will take place at the Hilton San Francisco on June 4-8.

What to expect: Come join a group of men who love ENM just as much as you do. We'll have an extended weekend for you to get even more in touch with your sexuality and to meet men like you, who are just as hesitant and just as willing as you to get completely naked for your enjoyment.

Each morning will be full of break out sessions on topics that matter in our community, including: How to convince your friends to bet you for your clothes, How to trick your straight boss out of his underwear, and How to plan a party where you're the only naked one, among other topics. In addition to topics you care about, none of the presenters know that they're required to present naked to get their paychecks, so you'll get to see some flustered presenters, talking about topics guaranteed to make them hard.

Lunch will be provided, and there is an optional circle jerk at each lunch to relieve tension. Although, if you reserve a room at the hotel, you can sneak away to have some intimate time with any consenting attendee (or presenter).

After lunch, we've chartered clothing optional buses to take our attendees to Marshall's Beach, San Francisco's very own gay-friendly, clothing-optional beach. We recommend you bring footwear and sunscreen, but leave everything else at the hotel. It's a steep hike from the Golden Gate Bridge down to Marshall's Beach, but the views of the Golden Gate Bridge (and of the beautiful men around the beach) are worth the hike.

After an afternoon of soaking in the sun and skinny-dipping, our clothing optional buses will drive our group to the Castro. While San Francisco has strengthened their public indecency laws, it's common knowledge that there are still plenty of nudists who walk up and down Castro street. Feel free to join them. Each night our group has a reservation with a different restaurant and bar on the Castro, and we've arranged for them to expect a party of potentially naked men.

Our clothing-optional charter buses will leave the Castro at 11:00 sharp each night. If you leave your clothes on the bus, it will not return for you, and it is up to you to find your own way back across the city to our hotel. And remember, even Waymo (the driverless cars) have cameras all around inside, so you won't be getting back to the hotel unseen.

Dress Code: Attendees are allowed to wear whatever they want. Except for you. You aren't allowed clothes for the entire conference.

Travel Arrangements: Our clothing-optional buses will be at the San Francisco airport at 9:00 to transport any conference attendees who land in San Francisco at that time. From that point onward, you can disrobe and adjust to the idea of having all of those eyes looking at every inch of your body.

And for three of you unlucky (or very lucky) attendees, we have bribed TSA to strip search you and confiscate your clothes and lose your luggage.

Additional Excursions: In place of going to Marshall's beach, you could spend your afternoons at Mr. S Leather, EROS sex club, or Kabuki Springs (a non-sexual, nude bathhouse). To get to those, we have a few male Uber drivers on our staff who would be delighted to drive any of our attendees for the low price of a pair of your underwear (preferably underwear they get to take right off your body).

You've spent so long discussing your ENM desires. Isn't it time to come live them out with men who get it?

[tiredgirlvent]

I have an update!

I made a post yesterday of Fatima Labeche who bragged on TikToK of harassing a Jewish passenger , causing this passenger to miss their flight , having them strip searched .

It turns out fatima lied !

She hasn't worked for the TSA agency for 13 years which means only one thing .....

This miserable lady did it for clout .

She did it for jihad street cred !

How pathetic your life must be to do something like this

Now she made a fool of herself because she didn't think she would be caught lying about this and well ....she was caught lying about this lol

Brain rot 🤡

Of course people are going to call the agency when you admit you set someone up on bogus harassment charges , have them strip searched and miss their flight ✈️

What is wrong with people ?