Tumgik
#中也
candykale · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Another screenshot redraw for practice. I'm really enjoying playing around with styles at the moment! Plus Chuuya <3
3K notes · View notes
zzzx009 · 1 month
Text
中也
Tumblr media
103 notes · View notes
tinywastakensstuff · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I... always forget I have a tumblr. ごめん!
I am now writing fanfiction ! Isn't that surprising ? www—
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
51 notes · View notes
saykamachuhirik · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
🀄
32 notes · View notes
candykalewrites · 1 year
Text
BSD - Part One - Alcohol
My Discord server has started doing weekly writing challenge prompts, so I decided to have a go at using them as themes to write chapters of a longer-running fanfic. I don’t know where this is going but I’m having fun! If anyone else has a read of this, then enjoy! Part Two - Forget Part Three - Desk Part Four - War --------------------------
The whole thing was over before the glass had even reached Chuuya’s lips.
It was a quiet, drizzly Tuesday night, and he’d had an uneventful day at work. There had been rumours of a foreign national causing problems at the ports, but initial investigations into the matter had proven fruitless. With no further leads Chuuya had called it a night, and had been on his way home, but not before taking a short detour to visit the usual haunt of the Port Mafia members. As he had turned into the dingy alley, he had spotted the bright sign, and had followed the soft light illuminating the door leading down into the Lupin Club.
It was a small speak-easy, one that could be called cosy or cramped, depending on your mood. There were a few seats at the bar, three of which were already occupied by some of the other regulars, and a few empty tables pressed against the back wall. The bar tender had been stood behind the bar, slowly cleaning glasses and replacing them in their proper spots, a small clink sounding out with each one put back. He had nodded a quiet acknowledgement to Chuuya as he entered.  
At the seats already taken had been Ango and Oda, and of course, that bastard Dazai. Chuuya had ignored them, took his hat off, and claimed the last spare stool at the bar. He could remember hearing Dazai make some stupid smarmy comment beside him as he had rested his hat on top of the bar, but he had blanked it out, instead snapping his fingers to grab the bar tender’s attention.  
He had felt like treating himself tonight. There had not been any particular reason other than that he could, so he had ordered a large glass of whiskey from a bottle on the top-shelf. Black label, smooth; his favourite. He had slid a 5000 yen note across the bar top as the bar tender had placed the glass in front of him. The liquid was golden, shimmering in the low light of the room. The large spherical ice cube had cracked as it started to melt. Chuuya licked his lips, anticipating the first sip.        
He wasn’t counting the seconds, but in the time between him grasping the tumbler and lifting it up to his mouth, the peaceful atmosphere in the bar was shattered. The gentle jazz that was providing the background ambience was interrupted by a series of sharp, short bangs. The glass fell from Chuuya’s hands, smashing against the hardwood floor.
He had little time to react before he felt himself being dragged to the other side of the bar. When he finally had the opportunity to grasp the situation, he found himself flat on the floor, Dazai’s hand pressed hard against his stomach.  
Chuuya made to get up, and reached towards where Dazai was pressing down, attempting to remove his hand. He grabbed at Dazai’s wrist, fingers gripping against his bandages, but for some reason he was struggling to find any strength to be able to move him. Chuuya pushed harder, but the effort caused a sharp pain to shoot through him. Chuuya grimaced.  
“What are you doing? Get off me, idiot,” he growled through gritted teeth.
Dazai pushed him back down, and Chuuya saw him reach inside of his coat with his free hand, pulling out his revolver.
“Stop moving,” Dazai said in a hushed tone. He didn’t look at Chuuya, instead peering cautiously over the bar top, gun first. “You've been shot,” Dazai continued, as nonchalantly as if discussing the weather.
“...!”  
It took a second before Chuuya understood what Dazai had said. He looked down towards where the other man had his hand against him, and for the first time he noticed – and felt – the blood seeping into the fabric of his shirt. He watched it spread with detachment, as if he were watching a TV show, as if it were happening to someone else.  
Lightheaded, Chuuya started to laugh. The movement caused further pain, and as he moaned it turned into a spluttering cough.
“Glad you can see the funny side,” Dazai said as took aim over the bar top. One shot rang out, then a second. Bang bang. A grunt and the sound of a body falling. Chuuya coughed again.
Dazai stood up and reached behind him, removing pressure from the wound for a moment, before dropping back next to Chuuya, half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. The label was black. Chuuya smiled weakly.
“You have good taste in whiskey, surprisingly,” he said quietly. He could no longer feel Dazai’s hand against him, numbness spreading along with the blood, and he was struggling now to keep his eyes open.  
“Nothing but the best for chibi,” Dazai replied, unravelling several bandages from around his arm and pressing them against the open top of the bottle, tipping it.    
Chuuya’s muddled brain attempted to put together a comeback, but just as he tried to form the words, he felt the sting of the alcohol against the bullet wound.
Then everything went black.
27 notes · View notes
kleivuur · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
hello from the grave, I found the series with bootleg akechi.
friend sent the original, I had to do it. Happy pride yall.
17 notes · View notes
anju45 · 1 year
Text
𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙋𝙔 𝘽𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙃𝘿𝘼𝙔
»»一◥︻ 🍷中原中也 🍷 ︻◤一««
Tumblr media
0 notes
seichv · 8 months
Text
CHUUYA fucks you mean.
one hand pushing your face down into the mattress while the other holds both your wrists behind your back as he brutally rams inside of you from the back. slap, slap, slap, the sound echoing through the bedroom. your shaky whimpers are muffled into the sheets, your ears almost began to ring.
and this whole time he manages to keep that damn smug smirk laid across his face, watching how your whole body trembles as your soaked cunt hugged his length oh so perfectly… you were being utterly ruined.
“yeahh… pussy’s all mine, huh?” he grunts, the mocking tone lingering in his voice making you shudder. he gives your ass a harsh slap, your hips jolting slightly and making your ass jiggle even more, making him take his bottom lip in between his teeth. his thrusts quickened, the hand that was pushing your face down now bunched up your hair and tugged at it, pulling you back. you gasp, drool smeared along the corners of your lips and dripping down your chin, your eyes rolled back to your skull, slutty moans being the only sound you're able to make… saying it looked nasty would be an understatement.
chuuya leans down a little to meet your face, tugging you back by the hair even more, your back arched against him as your mouth stayed hung open. you looked a mess, he couldn't help but let out a low chuckle at this sight of you, looking worn the fuck out and drunk off his cock. “you love getting fucked stupid on this dick, don't you?” that voice of his is enough to make you clench harder around him, a creamy white ring forming around the base of his cock as you frantically nodded.
his hand finds the front of your neck, firmly holding it as your head titled up and his hypnotic gaze looked straight into your teary eyes. getting fucked so good it brought you to tears… you never even knew that was possible until chuuya. ”who’s pussy is this?” his tone was chilling but in a real sexy way, you could feel a knot tying inside your stomach, your cunt still stuffed of his cock. “yours… all yours... f-fuck–!” your voice was so hoarse and weak that it made his heart swell, he crashed his lips onto yours as he filled your pussy full of his cum, the same time as your juices sprayed all over his shaft and onto the bed, drenching it, your eyes screwed shut as a loud moan is let out from you, chanting his name like a prayer.
your limp body dropped down as chuuya slowly pulls out, watching his milky fluids flow out your pussy with a smirk, just to stuff it back in with his fingers, your hips shifting back as he does so. his hand drew shapes on your lower back and massaged you, and he placed kisses up towards your nape. he then gets off the bed, and begins to pick you up bridal style. “you did so good for me, beautiful.” you placed a kiss on his cheek, as you were carried to the bathroom.
1K notes · View notes
yuyonyu · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Love that is bound to end in tragedy
834 notes · View notes
miki-my-love · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
573 notes · View notes
ricedsq · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
love drawing oretty guys with long eyelashes
bsd 111.5 redraw
245 notes · View notes
candykale · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
My entry for a DTIYS over on IG by @dibu_draws_ Tried a completely new style of colouring for this one using gradient maps and the technique was a lot of fun, will definitely be using it more.
1K notes · View notes
zzzx009 · 21 days
Text
doodles of my beautiful elegant wife 🥰
Tumblr media
74 notes · View notes
fishbloc · 4 months
Text
109 notes · View notes
saykamachuhirik · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Happy New year🎊🎉🎇
11 notes · View notes
candykalewrites · 1 year
Text
BSD - Part Two - Forget
I will at some point come up with a name for this fic, but for now, we just have chapter titles!
Part One - Alcohol Part Three - Desk Part Four - War
--------------------------
Chuuya slowly opened his eyes, blinking against soft light. It took a moment for everything to come into focus, and he groaned, limbs feeling stiff as he shifted. There was a tight warmness around him, and Chuuya realised he was lying in a bed. Clean cotton sheets were pulled up to his neck and tucked tightly around his sides.
He lay there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. There was a subtle pain in his side, and he rested his hand on top of his stomach, tentatively pressing down on it. There was a soreness there, but nothing he wasn’t used to – injuries like this came part and parcel of working with the Port Mafia. Had he been in a fight?  
Chuuya gripped the sheets, rubbing the fabric and feeling the softness between his fingers – these weren’t his sheets, this wasn’t his bed. He tilted his head to the left, confused, looking around at the unfamiliar room he found himself in, trying to place it. The wallpaper was non-descript, and the only window in the room was covered by blinds, some of the slats damaged and letting the light filter through.
At the bottom of the bed, he spotted his coat hung over the back of a chair. It had been lain over it neatly, but Chuuya could see that it was badly stained, a dark smear across the right-hand side and marks on the sleeves. Was that blood? His blood, or an unfortunate other’s? He thought he could see a rip by the pocket that he couldn’t remember having been there before. His hat was balanced on top of the right ear of the chair.
Chuuya reached up and confirmed that he was indeed hatless. His hair felt greasy between his fingertips, and he brought his hand back down, covering his eyes. He tried hard to think. Where had he been before this? Who had removed his coat and hat? Whose bed was this?
Suddenly, a sigh, by his right side.
Chuuya turned, and he saw him, wrapped up in his stupid coat, stupid bandages over his right eye, brown hair falling across his irritating face. His knees were pulled up against him as he shifted in his sleep, curled up in a large chair that was positioned by the bed side. Why was Dazai here?  
Chuuya felt exhausted. He closed his eyes and sunk deeper into the bed, pulling the sheets up above his head and breathing in the subtle scent of cheap washing powder. He tried to focus, tried with everything he had to will his mind into remembering something, anything, that would offer some explanation as to why he was here. Some logical reason as to why Dazai, of all people, was sleeping by his side. But try as he might, nothing would come. Everything was hazy.
Chuuya grumbled to himself, running his hands through his hair as the frustration built. Just what exactly had he forgotten, and why couldn’t he remember?
“What the fuck happened?” he said, voice laden with exasperation.  
 “Oh?”  
Chuuya turned to see Dazai stirring next to him. He yawned, stretching out his slender limbs, the coat he was using as a blanket slipping to the floor. Dazai picked it up and smiled softly at Chuuya, his eyes wrinkling at the sides. It wasn’t an expression Chuuya was used to; it looked genuine and for some unexplainable reason, it made Chuuya feel on edge. Dazai looked tired, his clothes wrinkled, and hair tousled, strands of deep brown stuck up at various angles at the back. His appearance suggested he’d been by Chuuya’s side for some time.  
“I see you’re finally awake. Took your time, hat-rack. Had Mori worried for a moment there.” Dazai said.
“Worried about what?” Chuuya asked, sitting up. The bed sheets that were tucked under him came loose, dropping from around his neck and settling on his waist. He realised he was topless, and as he looked down, he noticed and felt for the first time several bandages wrapped around his abdomen. They were keeping padding and gauze in place and looked recently changed.    
“Hm?,” Dazai hummed, leaning closer, hands on the edge of the bed and eyebrows knitted together. “You really can’t remember?”  
Chuuya moved away from him, pulling the sheets back over himself to cover up. “No, I can’t. Are you going to fill me in, or just sit there gawping.”  
Dazai leant back in the chair, crossing his legs. “We were ambushed in the Lupin.”
“Ambushed? By who!?”  
“A gifted. It turns out that our little inconvenience down by the ports that we’ve been looking into decided to make himself an even bigger inconvenience by attempting a hit on the Port Mafia. We were the targets. Unbeknownst to him and unluckily for me, it takes more than a bullet to take you out, doesn’t it, Chuuya?”
“Wait, what? I was shot?” Chuuya exclaimed, lifting the cover back up to take a second look at the bandages. Suddenly a memory came back to him – soft jazz, the smell of expensive whiskey, the smashing of a glass.  
“You were,” Dazai confirmed, huge grin on his face. “And you owe me. I dragged your scrawny ass out of there and fixed you up.”
Another memory – Dazai pressed close against him, hands against his stomach. Chuuya felt his face redden at the recollection.  
“I don’t owe you anything Dazai, I could have handled it.”
“Hurtful, but sure, you tell yourself that.”  
“I was just caught unaware, that’s all.” Chuuya frowned. “What happened after?”
“We managed to take out a few of the attackers, but the gifted escaped. Oda went after him, but he had a getaway car. It was too dark to make out the exact model, but Oda’s fairly confident it was a black hatchback. He said it looked like a Japanese make. The license plate was defaced, likely stolen. IDs on the other guys were foreign – American.”
“Americans?”
“Mhmm. Confirms some of the earlier intel we had.”  
Chuuya sat there for a minute, head back against the bed rest. After a moment, Dazai stood up from the chair, stretching his hands out in front of him before throwing his coat over his shoulder and making to leave.
“Dazai?” Chuuya said, and Dazai stopped in the door frame, turning back to face him. “Thanks, y’know. For not leaving me to die, I guess.”
Dazai laughed softly. “Don’t thank me,” he said. “I saved you purely for my own selfish reasons. Who else could I torment daily if you weren’t around? It’s too much fun. Plus, death by gunshot? Pfft, where’s the excitement in that?” He spun back around, waving a lazy goodbye over his shoulder as he left. “Rest up Chuuya, there’s work to be done.”  
Chuuya watched him leave, sitting and staring at the empty doorway as he heard the slam of a door closing somewhere just out of sight. He waited for a few moments, silence filling the room, before he pulled back the sheets and swung himself out of the bed, resting on the edge and looking over to a nearby side-table.  
Standing, he walked over to it, arm wrapped around his stomach to ease some of the soreness from the movement. He stopped in front of it, looking down at his clothes which had been washed, ironed and neatly folded into a pile. Atop of them was a small note, written in neat cursive.
Cake and coffee in the kitchen, help yourself – D PS: Nice tattoo, jk!
“I swear to God, I’ll kill him!”
13 notes · View notes