#railwai
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nedlittle · 1 month ago
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i went to the aquarium the other week and hand to god every single seahorse was pregnant. it was like ao3 in there
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chase-solidago · 2 years ago
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Loving reminder from your land history auntie:
North American golf courses have had 50-100 years of arsenic and mercury based fungicide and herbicides applied to their soils.
Do not eat anything that has been grown on a golf course or downstream from a golf course. I know it sounds cool and radical, but you are too valuable to poison yourself with heavy metals.
Protect each other, turn your local golf course into a pollinator garden, not a sex forest or community garden.
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alhelg · 1 year ago
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Exploring the Artist's Graphic Style Lukas Pazera
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ikana-graveyard · 5 months ago
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いちご電車 • 6.22.2024
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maureen2musings · 1 month ago
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Tadami River Bridge, Japan
@satria_palsu
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apas-95 · 7 months ago
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someone got really angry and sent like 7 back-to-back anons to me about how railways are evil and environmentally deatructive(???) and implied I was a fascist for liking trains or something? the phrase 'infinite railroads on a finite planet' was used
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Hans Baluschek (1870-1935)
"City railway station" (1904)
Oil on canvas
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pixie-felix · 2 months ago
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a/n: inspired by @hyunjinx42 (specifically this), suggested by @arestoucries
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-as you sink down on his c*ck after a long day of work- @hyunjinx42
Just a short little something something to try break feed the absolute chokehold Railway Chan has us all in. Inspired by @hyunjinx42, suggested by @arestoucries. As always, smut under the cut, minors dni.
Content warnings: breeding kink, daddy kink, size kink, ancient vine references (just the one, let me know if you found, I made myself laugh and then I couldn't take it out). 1.9k
I accidentally posted this earlier today when I was still working on the draft 🤣 this is the complete version, so if you were disappointed earlier hopefully this will make up for it
T a k e a S e a t
You know exactly what Chan wants when he sits down in that chair. 
Tie loosened, hair mussed, eyes dark as he looks you over like a cat eyeing the most delicious bowl of cream.
“So, you were watching me all day.” 
“Of course I was watching you. It was your MV shoot.” You keep your voice light, but the intensity of his gaze is making you tingle all over. Not to mention the hint of the devil in his smile, quirking the corner of his mouth.
“Well, I was watching you too. Come here.” He beckons you over, that familiar come hither motion of his fingers sending a strong jolt of arousal to your belly and your mind straight into the gutter. 
It might just be because he's been playing a vampire all day but you feel powerless to resist him. Walking towards him, and that chair, like a woman hypnotised.
That devil's smirk spreads as you move into arms reach, shivering as he reaches out a hand to stroke your leg. Just the inch of bare skin, above your knee and below your skirt.
“Did you choose this outfit just for me, sweetheart?”
This outfit being a not-quite-knee-length pleated skirt, a silk shirt buttoned up to the neck, and what the fashion magazines might describe as a smart casual blazer. It's giving “slutty schoolgirl meets business casual.”
Had you chosen this outfit especially for Chan, knowing about his purity kink and the fact you'd be in his eye line but just-out-of-reach all day?
You bet Chan's sweet ass you did. 
And he knows it too, knows it in the way you shiver as he lightly runs those fingers, a barely there feather touch, up your leg. Under your skirt. Slowly, closer and closer to where all that want is bubbling in your gut.
“I thought so. Such a tease.” Under that playful tone there's something low, something dark. Something that makes itself known when scrapes his nails back down your thigh, not quite hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough that you know if you were to look there’ll be five red lines marking your flesh. Dragging his fingers away from where you want them, where you need them, taunting you with a smile that tells you he knows how your cunt is clenching over nothing.
“I wasn’t the only one watching you though, was I?” Marking. He’s fucking marking you. 
“Channie…” 
“That’s not my name.” 
“...Chris?”
“Not today sweetheart.”
Oh. Oh. 
Oh boy.
“...Daddy?”
“Good girl.” His voice is all low and growly, and he tugs you forward by your knees until you’re standing astride his lap and hands are running up the backs of your thighs again, alternately stroking and scratching as he smiles up at you. 
“Do you even know what you do to me? What it’s like having to pretend you’re not mine. Having to watch guys like that following you all day, flirting with you, eyefucking you, and not being able to do a damn thing about it?”
Ah, so that’s what this is about. Chan is jealous. You were training the director's new PA today, some guy who’s name you’ve already forgotten. And Chan is jealous. 
As if he isn’t the most gorgeous man on the planet, a professional wet dream, and your long term boyfriend who’s been dicking you down dumb for the last 4 years. 
And if he wants to talk about unfairness, let’s talk about work. Watching him film that scene today, in this very chair, where an orgy of dancers were writhing on him. In fucking handcuffs. And he was sitting there with that look on his face. Yes yes, work is work, and acting is acting, the hazards of dating an idol etc etc…
But watching your man sit with a crowd of strangers slithering on his lap, that special expression on his face you only see when you’re sinking down on his cock after a long day of work, in that goddamn chair…
“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” The question is innocent, the look in Chris’ eyes is not. He's completely Chris now, all signs of sweet Chan gone, replaced by the hungry, almost feral creature that likes it when you call him daddy. “Are you thinking about all those dancers from earlier, sitting on me, touching on me…”
“Yes, Daddy…” you whisper, blush creeping across your ears. It's like he's staring right into your soul, reading your thoughts and revelling in how you put up no resistance. He can invade all your private places and you let him, you're an open book to him
“Did it drive you crazy?” His voice is a low whisper, heavy with lust and wanting. “Did you want to come and sit on my lap instead, come and claim what's yours?"
You're too turned out to speak, your voice a whimper rather than words. “Daddy… don't tease…”
He smiles slowly at you, reaching up your skirt and slowly dragging your panties down your thighs.
“Then come warm this cock my love. Daddy's been waiting all day.”
It's almost musical, the sound Chris makes as you sink down on his dick, somewhere delicious between a moan and a grunt. It's almost too much, the way he stretches you. You cling to his shoulders and hide your face in his neck as you whine, nipping at his neck as you desperately try to ground yourself.
“Mmm… so good…” Chris has his hands on your hips, guiding you until you're settled on his thighs, his cock fully sheathed inside you. “Such a good girl. So perfect for me.”
He's almost too big to fit, your pussy stuffed fuller than full, at it's absolute limit. Teetering on the cusp of what feels good and what doesn't.
He's mercifully gentle, running his hands up your back, stroking your skin in slow, soothing circles.
“You're doing so good, baby. Just relax, relax for me baby.” He hisses when you lean a little more forward, mewling into his neck into his neck and holding him tighter as the change in angle causes your pussy to spasm and stretch, barely able to bear it.
“I want.. I…”
“What do you want, babygirl?” Concern creeps into his turn, worried that maybe his dick is too big, maybe you’re not enjoying it. “Am I hurting you? We can stop if it's too much.” He presses kisses into your hair, brushing some out of your face as he tries to look you in the eyes.
“No Daddy… please don't stop. You feel… so good…” Chris sighs in relief, stroking your face tenderly. “Will you… will you…”
“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”
“I can't… I want…” You shake your hips lightly, barely moving but Chris' dick is stretching you so full it feels as intense as if he was pounding you out, hips snapping as he tried to fuck you through the mattress.
Chris makes a strangled sound, the drag of your velvety walls almost driving him to madness.
“What do you need, babygirl.” His voice is hoarse with the effort of holding still. “Just tell me. Tell me baby, please, you're driving me mad…”
“Daddy,” your voice is almost a sob, “Daddy, please… It feels so good. You feel so good, inside me…” Chris has to bite his lip to keep from swearing at how good you're making him feel. He loves is when you talk dirty.
“Baby, if you keep saying things like that…”
“Breed me, Daddy. Please. Please.” Chris presses a shaky, kiss to your lips, gentle and tender, trying to distract himself from how every single muscle in his body tenses up and he's pretty sure his balls just turned blue.
“You sure…” He has to be sure, has to check, before the last strip of his sanity is stripped away and he loses control.
“Please Daddy. Breed me. Claim me. Make me yours… please.”
“Okay baby, okay.” He starts moving, gently, rolling his hips slowly, tantalisingly, doing his best not to go too fast or too quickly. “Daddy’s gonna breed you, okay? You're so tight baby…”
He's not sure what's gonna explode first, his heart or his testicles.
It doesn't take long, every tiny thrust driving both of you closer to the edge,Chris closing his eyes and urgently trying to think of something unsexy. Socks with sandals. Being called “Bang Channie”.
That one weird nude Han accidentally sent him at Christmas. What the hell was he doing with all that BBQ sauce on his titties?
But not even deep philosophical musings on the strange behaviour of Han Jisung can distract Chris from how you've started to bounce on him, your pussy finally adjusted to his cock enough that you can ride him a little, thighs tight around his waist.
He almost loses it, when the little gasps and moans spilling from you get so loud he has to muffle them with his hand. No badly how much he wants everyone to hear how good he fucks you, you're still supposed to be keeping this a secret… Definitely not fucking on stage props quickly relocated to a nearby dressing room. Thank fuck the door locks.
But then you bite his hand, losing control of your sanity and bouncing on his dick like a rabbit, whining, so close to cumming but you just can't quite reach it by yourself.
The sting of your teeth on his fingers pushes Chris over, all restraint gone, hands snapping to your hips as he bucks up into you, holding you still so he can pound your pussy.
He feels you coming undone on him, your pussy spasming, clenching, sucking his dick in deeper until he could swear he's pressing against your cervix.
It's not until you collapse in his arms, shaking, trembling, that he finally gives in and lets himself cum. And he cums hard, the aftershocks of your orgasm making your pussy twitch, milking his cock until he's got nothing left to give.
Balls empty, dick aching, cocksore and thighs shaking, Chris holds you close, his seed dribbling out as his cock starts to soften inside you. You both moan when it finally slips out completely, clinging to each other tightly as you both come down from your respective highs.
“I think… I think we might have ruined the chair, Channie.” You giggle as you look up at him, all blissed out and happy.
“Oops.” He shrugs, before leaning forward and brushing your noses together in an Eskimo kiss. “I guess we'll just have to smuggle it home.”
You rest your head on his chest, happy and sated. Eevelling and how quickly Chris can switch back to Channie, all cosy and cuddly and sweet.
“So…”
“So?” Chan is already starting to look sleepy, all fucked out and giddy. He tilts his head at you like a curious puppy, like he didn't just fuck you into th fifth dimension.
“...are you still gonna try tell me the song is about trains?"
Chan blinks, and you can see the cogs in mind turning as he tries to figure out what trains have to do with anything that just happened.
He flushes bright red when the penny drops, eyes going wide, mouth opening and closing as he tries to think of a good comeback. In the end he just hides his face in your neck and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like a whiney “shut up”.
You laugh and snuggle down in his arms. He groans, knowing you're gonna tease him about trains once the post orgasm contentment passes.
That's what he gets for being a liar.
Okay, I'm just about happy with this one. This isn't even the No Thoughts/Hard Thoughts fic, but apparently I have breeding kinks on the brain. Oops. Hope you guys don't mind two in a row. In other news, Channie’s big dick problem is the subject of another fic. Yay size kink? Anyways, thanks for reading, reblogs and comments are so much appreciated and motivating and stuff, let's enjoy this highly educational science gif of Channie to end the post:
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tagslist: @sthaay @arestoucries , @chrizzztopherbang, @avnche, @kemkem33, @mikaelless, @lvrgrl-xo, @eevenus , @furioussheepluminary , @sheerfreesia007 , @aasthamoon , @amazinglystay @delulustardust (I got my lists mixed up, I only post skz fics on this account so lemme know if you want me to take you off)
m.list
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xenteaart · 2 months ago
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the hard way
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pairing: vampire!chris x to be vampire!reader genre/warnings: dark romance, mean chris, angst? kinda dead dove, mentions of death, blood and a lil gore (not too graphic tho imo), it's okay in the end??? and they're in love plot: reader is getting turned into a vampire and it's not as cool as she imagined author’s note: obvsly heavily inspired by railway and that SPITTING SCENE. idk it's prolly gonna flop but i wanted to picture that process and a not so hot side of it
“no.” “why not?!” “because i told you so a million times already. we’re not discussing this.” chris spits out and furrows, growing more agitated with each passing second.
“what, you don’t want me to be equal to you?” you ponder desperately while your mind searches for any, any reason at all as to why chris won’t turn you. it’s been getting to you for the last couple of months, and you’re sure you’ve gone through every possible explanation your troubled brain could come up with: he doesn’t love you. he doesn’t wanna spend eternity with you. or maybe it’s a power thing. or, or, or...? this endless cycle of worry and uncertainty has been keeping you on edge for way too long to think clearly now. “gosh, it has nothing to do with equality,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “what is it then?” “drop it.” you snap. “we’ll have to find out the hard way, then.”
you grab the nearest kitchen knife, and it turns out to be the one you use for cutting meat, a chef’s knife as they call it. how fitting. chris barely has enough time to catch up with your madness infused impulse, and when he turns his gaze back to you, the knife is already deep in your guts.
you thought it was gonna be romantic or somewhat dramatic at least. something from the movies where he sinks his vampire teeth into your neck, and just like magic — your eyes flash bright red, announcing the beginning of a new life.
“you dumb bitch,” he exhales shakily and somehow manages to catch you in time because the sharp pain in your stomach makes you lose your balance instantly. you’re still bitter and angry in the heat of the argument and you expect him to be the same way, but when you glance up, chris looks nothing but panicked. “that’s a new look on him,” you think, and it confuses you.
chris growls and sinks to his knees, carefully holding you and trying to move as fast as possible. what you don’t know is that turning can only be done in around thirty seconds since fatal injury. that might explain the rushing and chris’s pure bambi eyes panic but your consciousness is already starting to drift away to hold onto that train of thought.
chris bites into his wrist with unmasked fury, tearing and ripping his own veins even though using a knife would have been much cleaner. probably less painful, too. “swallow. now! come on, don’t you fall asleep on me now, focus!” he grabs your face and presses hard on the jaw joints, making you open your mouth like a puppet doll.
the sickly metallic taste of your own blood at the back of your throat from the internal bleeding mixes up with chris’s thick blood that he generously spits into your mouth, and you want to throw up. your head feels dizzy as your eyelids are getting heavier, your hearing suddenly fails completely as if someone turned the volume down from ten to zero. limbs are falling weak, and the pins and needles in them are so, so far from pleasant.
the thing about turning is... you actually have to die first. be fully, completely gone to be able to come back changed and corrupted, turned to the extent of your DNA having been violently rewritten. that you did not think through enough. the muscles in your throat contract almost on reflex, swallowing and gagging on the gooey salty substance, making your chest heave while coughing strangles you further. the tingles and nausea are so overwhelming and all consuming you actually catch yourself thinking dying would be a relief now. and then it follows as you wished.
you doze off for god knows how long but, by the looks of it, it can’t have been more than a few minutes because as you regain consciousness, chris is still looming over you, his own blood fresh on his lips. he’s blurry, though, everything is.
“come on, suck on me. c’mon, baby, there we go,” he coos as he brings his wrist to your lips, forcefully pressing it into your mouth and leaving you with little to no choice. the phrasing, unlike usual, doesn’t sound dirty or hot now, more like a life-saving command while you’re still so out it. it feels good, though, chris’s blood.
it doesn’t taste so metallic and gross anymore, and the texture feels almost soothing on your dry throat, like hot honey milk on a friday evening. suck, gulp, suck, gulp, suck, it almost lulls you back into serenity, some primal instinct of being attached to your only life line, finding comfort in someone’s warmth and touch and taste.
you wonder how much you’ve drunk already and whether chris will have anything left but you’re so, so thirsty you can’t even bring yourself to care.
what finally makes you stop is the sudden sharp ache in your gums. it feels so piercing the aftershocks are almost reaching your brain and eye sockets, and as you feel your old teeth fall out, a pair of longer fangs cuts through and settles into the upper teeth row. hot tears are stinging your eyes and you whine like a wounded deer, still unable to speak properly. it’s all too much, and you start to regret what you’ve done, and maybe, just maybe that’s why chris so passionately refused to put you through it. this kind of hunger and the animalistic, blood thirst driven rage were never something he wanted to inflict upon you.
your entire body is shaking but it’s not really a fearful tremor, more like restlessness, a new sort of “itch” somewhere deep, deep inside that you’ve never experienced before, the feeling so intense and soul wrenching you simply can’t disobey it. it makes you want to jump up and run.
“don’t worry, i’ll teach you how to handle it.” chris cups your face after taking off his leather gloves so you can feel the comfort of his actual skin. the touch is calming, but barely enough compared to that growing desire and need to satisfy the itch. “you stupid crazy cunt, why do you never listen,” he whispers into your forehead, his lips lightly brushing over your cold sweat covered skin, as he holds you closer, squeezing you against his chest in a protective manner, though the real danger to yourself is now planted within you.
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beardedmrbean · 2 years ago
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passionatepictures-2021 · 5 months ago
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Beautiful morning sky
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hekiqoo · 2 months ago
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The Journey Begins Here
ここから始まる
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wolfchans · 2 months ago
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BANG CHAN ⁙ RAILWAY DOMINATE OSAKA (241208)
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bisexualgoth · 2 years ago
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all workers' strikes are good. yes even if they're inconvenient. even if they're making your life harder. even if you don't get to watch your favourite tv show. workers fighting for their rights is ALWAYS a good thing
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huiracha · 2 months ago
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RAILWAY BANG CHAN
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