AngelicallyScarred



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

    Language:
    English
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    20 Jan 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    this made me cry so much

    i love this fic

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “When the time comes, it will take you to safety. Just look towards the east,” his mother had said. He hoped she was right. He needed all the safety and help he could get if he was going to win back his throne.

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    20 Jan 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    loved this!!!
    the open ending makes me saaaad tho :(

    but overall a very good read!!!

    wish there was a sequel

  3. Public Bookmark 91

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    “I am not running two kilometers as ‘morning exercise’ just so you can hatch your stupid eggs.” He crosses his arms, scowling around his yawns at where his best friend is standing in the doorway of his bedroom. Two kilometers, what the actual fuck, really. It wasn’t even 6 AM yet.


    Unfortunately for Hajime, Oikawa takes to Pokemon Go the way a duck takes to water: very enthusiastically.
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    16 Jan 2018

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    In a hindsight, all of it - the stolen childhood, the crash on Jakku, Han Solo's death, even the lightsaber to the back - was easier than living in this world of invisible social clues and inside jokes, the whirlwind of this ragtag family that defied any logic, the caring, the compassion, the love.

    And all the while people tell him: Finn, you are so brave! Finn, you are so strong! Finn, you are so kind! Finn, thank you for saving my life! And FN-2187 looks to the stars and desperately tries to find this "Finn" everyone seems to know in himself.

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    16 Jan 2018

  5. Public Bookmark 97

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    Squinting, the brunet pauses on the last step of the stairs, rubbing at his eyes to ensure he’s not seeing things. The sight remains - a man seemingly carved out of rock stands in front of the wall of postboxes, a laughably small canvas bag slung around his shoulder as blocky hands carefully slots envelopes into the various boxes. The figure towers imposingly, looking for all the world like an animated sculpture of one of the Western knights bards sing of in old Arthurian legends.

    The superhero - it could only be a superhero, with that kind of appearance - looks up as Oikawa approaches. “Sorry. Almost done.” His voice is the scrape of gravel against granite.

    Oikawa Tooru, ace reporter of the superhero beat of Asahi Shimbun, hates superheroes. Or maybe he just hasn't met the knight one yet.

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    03 Jan 2018