negare-boshi
Elleh Writes
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Give it up for Elleh! She’s one of our NSFW zine authors.
Read Heartbreak (and all her other incredible works!) at archiveofourown.org/users/Elleh
You can also find her on Twitter at @/Elleletoile or on Tumblr at @negare-boshi
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you can read the whole thing here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/33900274
y es que me encantas tanto
new matchablossom fic has dropped!!
6k of idiots being supportive and then spending a very steamy moment in a dark room.
Kojiro needs a favour. Kaoru’s just too (reluctantly) happy to oblige.
“What.”
“Is that a way to speak to the only person who ever calls you?” Kojiro puts out before he can even think of the consequences.
Which are fast to come, as Kaoru cuts the call before the echo of Kojiro’s voice fades around him. He doesn’t even hesitate when he presses the call back button, because he’s desperate.
“Although you live an idle life,” Kaoru says when he picks up again, and he sounds pissed, “I do have work to do.”
“It’s eight in the evening, what the hell are you working for?”
“The question is, why aren’t you? Don’t you run a restaurant?”
Kojiro’s jaw pulses. They’ve had this same conversation enough times the way the headache comes is almost Pavlovian. “You know perfectly well we close on Tuesdays.”
“Fascinating trivia. If you’re bored, can I suggest you try and better yourself? You could try a book.”
“Oh, come off it. The last time I saw you open a book you were sixteen and about to pass out.”
“If this is why you’ve called—˝
“Dammit, of course it isn’t. You always lure me away with your bullshit.”
“Lure you? Lure you? What am I, a fucking mermaid?”
Kojiro smiles at the thought of that, at the image of that. Kaoru would look impressively attractive as a mermaid.
“You—”
“Don’t even fucking say it, or I’ll end you.”
“Fine,” Kojiro says, knowing full well Kaoru will maim him if he dares keep up with the topic. “I called because— Well, I need your help.”
There’s a silence filled with white noise, long enough for a second Kojiro believes the call has been cut.
“Hello?”
“You know it will cost you,” Kaoru says, and he sounds giddy.
“You haven’t heard the best part.”
He isn’t as excited when he warns, “I will not carry you around like a fucking princess, Kojiro.”
“Who asked?”
“You! Several times, in fact.”
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y es que me encantas tanto
new matchablossom fic has dropped!!
6k of idiots being supportive and then spending a very steamy moment in a dark room.
Kojiro needs a favour. Kaoru’s just too (reluctantly) happy to oblige.
“What.”
“Is that a way to speak to the only person who ever calls you?” Kojiro puts out before he can even think of the consequences.
Which are fast to come, as Kaoru cuts the call before the echo of Kojiro’s voice fades around him. He doesn’t even hesitate when he presses the call back button, because he’s desperate.
“Although you live an idle life,” Kaoru says when he picks up again, and he sounds pissed, “I do have work to do.”
“It’s eight in the evening, what the hell are you working for?”
“The question is, why aren’t you? Don’t you run a restaurant?”
Kojiro’s jaw pulses. They’ve had this same conversation enough times the way the headache comes is almost Pavlovian. “You know perfectly well we close on Tuesdays.”
“Fascinating trivia. If you’re bored, can I suggest you try and better yourself? You could try a book.”
“Oh, come off it. The last time I saw you open a book you were sixteen and about to pass out.”
“If this is why you’ve called—˝
“Dammit, of course it isn’t. You always lure me away with your bullshit.”
“Lure you? Lure you? What am I, a fucking mermaid?”
Kojiro smiles at the thought of that, at the image of that. Kaoru would look impressively attractive as a mermaid.
“You—”
“Don’t even fucking say it, or I’ll end you.”
“Fine,” Kojiro says, knowing full well Kaoru will maim him if he dares keep up with the topic. “I called because— Well, I need your help.”
There’s a silence filled with white noise, long enough for a second Kojiro believes the call has been cut.
“Hello?”
“You know it will cost you,” Kaoru says, and he sounds giddy.
“You haven’t heard the best part.”
He isn’t as excited when he warns, “I will not carry you around like a fucking princess, Kojiro.”
“Who asked?”
“You! Several times, in fact.”
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🌟 ZINE PREVIEWS 🌟
Next up for our zine previews are these lovely pieces for our SFW zine!
Artists: lea, @lyykaia
Writer: @negare-boshi
Get your copy below!
🛒 https://iwazine.bigcartel.com
For more info on our zine, check out our:
[Carrd] [Updates] [Mods] [Contributors] [Shop Info]
Links to our socials:
[Twitter] [Instagram] [CuriousCat]
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🌟 CONTRIBUTOR SPOTLIGHT 🌟
Introducing Elleh, our SFW writer!
About our contributor: Elleh is a graphic designer by day and a writer by night. She is the mom of a very dramatic cat, a coffee lover and would rather spent her nights reading about fictional characters than interacting with fleshed people. You can find her here on Tumblr at @negare-boshi, or check out her Twitter and Carrd!
For more info on our zine, check out our:
[Carrd] [Updates] [Mods] [Contributors]
Links to our socials:
[Twitter] [CuriousCat]
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💘 STRETCH GOAL UNLOCKED 💘
A huge you for 100+ physical orders! Not only will all merch bundles now come with holographic printing ✨ but ALSO… all physical orders (including physical zine only orders) will now come with this cute clear card by @mantareidraws !
We’re on the road to 150 orders for the cute chained enamel pins by @jeaninidraws ! How quickly can we reach our goal? (´∀｀)
visit us at iwaoilifetimezine.bigcartel.com to preorder ♡
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Fandom: SK8
Relationship: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom
Rating: General
Word count: 2,443 words
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, post-ep.9, that ep fucked me good, pinning
Something breaks loose in Kojiro’s chest at the sight of Adam smashing his skate on Kaoru’s face.
It’s burning red, branding his insides like a corrosive acid. Poison, and the strength of an earthquake shaking the already weakened foundations of a friendship that hasn’t been for so long it now crumbles, soundless, meaningless. Kojiro’s hyper-aware of his own breathing, of the contraction of his muscles, from shoulders to hands, jaw and lips. The big screen shows Kaoru on the ground, bloody and beaten—fucking beaten in a fucking beef, as if this were the regular weeknight for all of them—and then it pans to Adam in his fucking, ridiculous costume, standing as if what he’s just done hasn’t broken more than just Kaoru’s skin.
“What the hell?” Shadow musters besides him.
“Is that— Should we call an ambulance?”
No one is calling an ambulance. Kaoru isn’t getting out of here in anything but his own feet or the benevolence of one of the spectators, and Kojiro’s experience in the matter doesn’t make him feel positive about it.
He’s still burning inside.
Without a word, he turns around, tries to find the race’s car and fails, and the flames in his chest start crawling up his throat, turning into a huge lump that clogs his breathing. He looks around, whatever vehicle will fucking do, dammit, but there’s nothing, nothing but people cheering Adam or complaining about the shortness of the beef or the occasional but unwanted oh no, cherry needs help!, that amounts to people doing absolutely nothing.
Kojiro’s starting to see red. His breathing is harsh now, his muscles so tense they feel on fire. If he manages to make it to Kaoru before Adam vanishes, he will fucking kill him.
“Here.” A hand on his elbow. Kojiro turns around so fast he almost punches Shadow on the face. His and Miya’s expressions are somber, which manages to calm down the obliterating rage eating Kojiro from the inside out enough for him to think. Shadow shakes his hand again, making the keys clink. “Take it. Go pick Cherry up and take him to the hospital.”
Kojiro picks the keys with care, reverently. Kindness should be the norm, and still, Kojiro feels indebted to them for this little gesture. He asks, “Are you sure?”, but he’s already running towards the car, parked on a corner by the entrance.
Adam isn’t there when he arrives. Kaoru’s still on his back, nose bleeding, head bleeding. Carla’s electric voice keeps beeping in a weird, song-like rhythm. The board might have been broken, too.
“Kaoru,” Kojiro says, and kneels beside him. His eyes are closed and his head is bleeding tons, shit, what if he has a contusion, what if—
“That fucker smashed his board on my face,” Kaoru hisses, eyes still closed but voice strong. Kojiro’s head falls forward, his muscles relax all at once, the mere sound of Kaoru angry and alive enough to clear the draining tension off of him. “I will fucking end him.”
“Not if I end him first,” Kojiro promises. The vehemence, the plain, absolute truth of his words is strange enough that Kaoru finally opens his eyes—one bloody, the other swollen—and looks at him with shock. “Hello, there. Let me take you to the hospital.”
read the rest here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29897781
#matcha blossom#sk8#sakurayashiki kaoru#nanjo kojiro#kojiro nanjo#kaoru sakurayashiki#hurt/comfort#fic
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Fandom: Sk8 Infinity
Relationship: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 4,555 words
Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Balcony Sex, i watched ep 7 and piercings happened
There are great things about being the proud owner of a known restaurant: the satisfaction of knowing your food is that good, seeing your name and your restaurant’s in this article or in that TV program, and of course it’s always lovely to pose for a picture with one of your cute customers every odd day.
What Kojiro loves the most, though, what he will never say out loud—he even hates thinking about it, sometimes—is having a begrudgingly loyal customer that sits down to eat his food every other week. Face twisted in contempt when Kojiro approaches and thanks to their patronage—Kaoru seldom comes on his own when it’s light outside—, eyes crinkled when Kojiro dares send his way a wink right after serving his food.
Tragic, really, that Kaoru’s visits should make Kojiro’s heart race and his lips twist in a smile, but there you have it. Kaoru is a thankless prick that pulls out Kojiro’s worst qualities, and yet here they are. Dancing around each other and enjoying it as if they were still teenagers trying to fuck-rage each other out of their systems.
The never-ending cycle of repeat should have gotten boring by now. The bickering, and the hate fucking in closets and in hidden corners, rushed and harsh because they always tease each other too much too far when they ought to be doing something else.
Kojiro looks now at the pristine white of the kitchen’s wall and remembers the mind-blowing fuck they had on the way to the hot springs while waiting for the others to arrive. How Kaoru had almost bitten his head off, and still had pushed Kojiro off his skate and between two bushes before going to his knees and swallowing him without a thought. How he’d left Kojiro right on the edge—the fucking bastard, he enjoys doing that way too much—and had stepped back on his skate before flying off again; the I am winning this, you stupid monkey finally kicking Kojiro out of his horny haze and prompting him to follow. How Kaoru was so high on his win they’d barely made it to the changing room before he’d thrown his yukata on the floor and pointed his pale back towards Kojiro, demanding, pleading.
How Kojiro had grabbed his hair and then his hip, and had fucked him there, against the wall, raw and with just the exact amount of lube for it to be painfully pleasurable. For Kaoru to burn through it, until he was so desperate he could do nothing but beg.
Kaoru liked to be fucked roughly enough for him to feel it for a week, and Kojiro loved to comply. At least when he could leave the shape of his fingers on Kaoru’s beautiful pallor and know the ghost memory of his cock fucking into Kaoru would accompany him until their next encounter.
So, it is safe to say Kojiro might have a thing for Kaoru. For fucking him, that is. It’s impressive that people are still oblivious to the fact they’ve been on each other’s dicks since high school, especially with how obvious it is that the way they fight—in the S, on a skate, in public in general—is just foreplay.
Maybe not just foreplay. Kojiro’s not entirely sure Kaoru’s feelings towards him are of the tender-but-must-be-hidden variety. In truth, that would be somewhat off-putting. Fucking someone who so vocally despises you is a kink Kojiro didn’t know he had, but that he can’t imagine a life without anymore.
You can read the complete version here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29635764
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LISTEN, LAIFIS IS SUCH AN AMAZING ARTIST I ADORE HER BECAUSE WIFE AND ALSO, CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TO SEE OUR COLLAB FOR THE AWESOME @iwaoilifezine! (Our pieces are very spicy 😏)
Here a little preview for y’all :)
Thirsty Tuesday, guys? ;)
All I ever wanted— an Olympics collab with wifey @ellehletoile !! You can’t miss her freaking gorgeous (juicy!) story for nsfw @iwaoilifezine. ;__; it’s full of love and yearning.
View art on Twitter | IG
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IT ME!!!!!!!!
💝🌱CONTRIBUTOR SPOTLIGHT: ELLEH🌱💝
Everyone please put your hands together for Elleh @negare-boshi ♡
Elleh will be bringing the heat as part of our NSFW writer team!
💙🤍 TWITTER | INSTAGRAM | CURIOUSCAT | CARRD 🤍💙
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DOESN’T THIS LOOK FRICKING AMAZING????? I LOVE JASMINE’S PIECE SO DAMN MUCH GUYS, YOU CAN’T EVEN IMAGINE!!!!!!
Here’s my preview for my collaboration with @negare-boshi for @ukiyozine, a zine focused on the setters of Haikyuu!! Preorders are now open! 🌸🏐🎆
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I’M SO EXCITED FOR YOU ALL TO SEE OUR COLLAB AND THE REST OF AMAZING PIECES!!! Everyone is so talented!
Preorders for Ukiyo: A Pretty Setters Zine are open! Our contributors have worked hard for this amazing zine with great art, fic, and merch!
Link to our shop: https://ukiyozine.bigcartel.com/
Our merch artists are Lawr, Iori, Yeuziu, Catsudon, Chii, and Jules!
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💜 Meet our writer, @ellehletoile! 💜
Read Still Young and Lean On Me. Support her work by buying her a coffee.
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HOLY FUCK!!!!!! THIS IS SO AMAZING???? I AM?? SCREAMING SO LOUD!!!! I ADORE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS! THAT HALO, DAAAAMN IT’S DOING THINGS TO ME!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS I,,,,, THIS MADE MY DAY??? SO MUCH?? THANK U!!
“bloodstained smile”
fanart for @negare-boshi‘s wonderful fic ‘Prince Without Knight’ !
#holy moly i honestly am#speechless#this is so beautiful#i love the colors#i love everything#i might have teared a lil' bit#fanart#prince without knight#r-adii#art#thank u thank u thank u
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Still Young - ShouRitsu
This is full of: Two Boys Pinning, Oblivious Ritsu Until He Isn’t Oblivious Anymore, Touchy-Feely, A Lot Of Blushing, Some First Kiss
So what, if Ritsu is especially touchy-feely with Shou? They are friends. They’ve gone through some dark stuff together. There’s no hidden meaning behind Ritsu always searching for Shou’s arm or Shou’s hand or Shou’s warmth. Just… friends… being… friends…
Ritsu's suddenly aware of why he's always so touchy-feely with Shou, and he is having a full-on gay crisis. There are psychic powers involved, a couple of swings and stupid boys in love that have no idea they are in love until someone actually tells them straight on.
You can read it on AO3
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Saint Tooru
I can finally post my piece for the @hqmythologyzine ! I used the legend of Sant Jordi (Saint George) and the version we tell on Catalonia. For those who doesn’t know what’s about, there’s a dragon involved, a prince and some blood turned roses. If you wanna know more about the legend and how we celebrate it, I’ll be ecstatic to share it with you!
Since this is sort of long, I’m going to post a small excerpt. You can find the whole thing here in ao3.
Saint Tooru
There’s blood on the battlefield, although it won’t be blood for much longer, nor does this cursed middle place deserve the gravity of being called a battlefield.
The crops are tainted red, a massive mountain of muscles and fire and life groaning its pain through this kingdom, through the hundreds yet to come. There’s a knight at its belly, chest swell and sword sharp. The glitter of the setting sun turns his steel into fire. It’s hard to discern where the legend ends and where it begins. Men have always been easily confused by heroes in the depths of tragedy.
The mountain falls. Red blood starts shaping into silky scarlet and protective green. The knight breathes in, breathes out, and as the echoes of the mountain’s death vanish on the vast sky, the knight goes to his knees.
If he cries, no one remembers. Heroes’ tears have no place in fairytales.
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Heartbreak - Matsuhana
Since I’m here, let me tell you I started a MatsuHana fic, in which Hanamaki and Matsukawa are in love with Oikawa and Iwaizumi and meet at their friends slash crushes’ moving-in-together party. It is pretty hot, slightly angsty, they are a pair of idiots and I love them to pieces.
It will have 7 chapters, and 5 of them are already up. I update every Saturday. Here you have the beginning of the first chapter! You can find it complete here.
Heartbreak
Heartbreak should never, ever be wallowed in over techno music.
Add the three drinks that are already burning in his stomach, the flashing lights and the fact he’s spent four hours staring at what he’d thought to be the love of his life being the happiest in another’s man’s arms, and heartbreak feels like the welcoming party to Hell.
Takahiro takes a long sip from his drink, choking on the fire that ignites in his throat. His eyes are glued to the happy couple, bodies tangled moving with the beat of the music. Sweat glitters in their skins, and Takahiro growls before finishing the stupid drink.
“It almost feels like you wanna murder them,” someone yells near Takahiro’s ear.
The guy’s lucky the alcohol has turned Takahiro’s movements into a clumsy disaster, otherwise he’d have his face plastered to the bar. Takahiro shrugs, steps back and stares up at the man’s calm eyes.
He knows him, barely. He’s the boyfriend’s best friend. Something-something-awa. The end of his name is awfully familiar to Oikawa’s. Another little jab to add to this amazing night.
“And who are you?” Takahiro asks, half pissed, half joking. He honestly doesn’t remember his name, and he’s not sure he wants to know it.
“Matsukawa Issei. Iwaizumi’s best friend,” Matsukawa answers, a pleasant smile in his lips, polite and chill. Takahiro wants to smack him on the face.
“Right.”
Matsukawa arches an eyebrow, lips pressed while Takahiro’s silence gets eaten by the deafening music. The club is filled to the brim, people everywhere getting their elbows and hands too close to Takahiro’s body for his liking. Matsukawa doesn’t seem bothered by it, nor by the obvious lack of conversation. He’s near enough for Takahiro’s side to be plastered to his chest.
“Did you need something?” Takahiro finally asks, cursing himself. He needs another drink, not someone who looks at him as if he were an open book.
“A chat.”
“Go look somewhere else, then. Not interested.” Takahiro turns, hand already up to catch the bartender’s attention, when Matsukawa’s mouth finds his ear again.
“Are you sure?”
It clicks, then. Takahiro halts, mouth open, hand still on the air. His heart is beating now as fast as the heavy drum of the music, his skin painfully aware of the heat of Matsukawa’s body. Fuck, it’s been so long since someone has hit on him —since he’d looked for it,— it has flown over his head.
The bartender comes. Takahiro manages to order something, although his mouth feels thick with cotton. He’s thinking about it. He’s thinking about how long it’s been since he’s had sex, any kind of physical connection with another human being that could be attached to physical pleasure. He’s thinking about the past year as if it were a movie that started the second he’d finally acknowledged his feelings. He’s thinking and thinking and thinking, aware of Matsukawa’s body still glued to his side, the ghost of his hand on his lower back; painfully sure the offer won’t stand for much longer if he doesn’t say anything, do anything.
The drink has barely brushed his fingers when Takahiro turns, ending face to face with Matsukawa. The man has an inch or so on him, forcing Takahiro to lean his head back to stare at him this close. Matsukawa’s expression is calm and neutral, smile still curving his lips but otherwise not showing any of his thoughts. Takahiro could reject him with all his rudeness and the man would probably shrug it off and leave.
Takahiro keeps his stare on Matsukawa’s when his tongue darts out of his mouth in search of the straw. He makes a show of sucking the drink, shifting slightly closer so now his whole side is touching Matsukawa’s.
Something dark covers the other’s man’s eyes. Takahiro pretends is the way his cheeks hollow when he sucks, ignoring the fact they are in a dark club, with flashing lights, with drunken people all around. Takahiro has seen in other people’s eyes what he wants to see enough times to know it never matches reality.
The straw falls off his lips, and Takahiro grins.
“Is the chat the only thing you’re still interested in?”
The way Matsukawa’s hand grips Takahiro’s hip is answer enough.
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