itsthefullmonty



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “Do you like it, general?” Hardcase asked eagerly from where he was sprawled over a metal crate in their designated hanger. Anakin stared at the new artwork adorning his battalion’s starfighters and gunships.

    It was…an extremely provocative cartoon of Senator Obi-Wan Kenobi clad in skimpy gold lingerie, cradling a vaguely phallic-looking blaster cannon.

    “Hey, you said we should come up with a design for the 501st. Remember? To boost morale and whatnot,” Tup reminded, scratching the side of his face.

    “I meant something like the Wolfpack's nose art! You know, my head and Ahsoka’s next to some of yours,” Anakin hissed, blood pressure mounting at his men’s casual indifference.

    “But that’s so boring,” Hardcase whined, flopping onto his side and upending some half-used paint cans onto the ground.

    Series
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    24 Aug 2021

  2. Public Bookmark 31

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    The Stableboy Knight, they called him.

    His common birth should have been enough to disqualify him from the Royal Tourney, but the young Alpha was a bit of a folk hero, it appeared. There were tales spread widely of his adventures, fending off bandits and saving fair maidens, the wildest proclaiming that he had arrived to fulfill some prophecy.

    The King was disapproving, but there was little he could do. The Stableboy Knight would be allowed to compete in the land’s grandest tournament, for a prize purse dripping with riches … and the right to Prince Adequinn’s virginal heat.

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    24 Aug 2021

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    “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while,” Harry whispers, calm as you please, as if Eggsy’s face isn’t pressed directly into the little hollow between his neck and his shoulder, as if Eggsy isn’t drowning in the fucking scent of his cologne, as if the fabric of his bespoke suit isn’t caressing Eggsy’s cheek like a goddamn lover.

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    01 Aug 2021

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    Eggsy isn’t surprised by the fact that the Kingsman appear to be nearly all alphas.

     

    Eggsy is an omega, then he’s a Kingsman, and no two heats are alike.

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    25 Jul 2021

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    In the glade where the star had fallen, the gloom of the gnarled old woods was deeper than night, save around the blackberry bush that had broken his fall: the grass and the battered leaves were now luminous, moon-touched. There was a long pause, broken by the sounds of twittering insects and the forest folk, then, there was a loudly groaned, “Fuck!”

    The star rubbed a hand over his eyes, then flinched and held his hand up, spreading unfamiliar fingers up against the night sky. He turned his hand this way and that, curling and uncurling fingers, then he let out a softer, yet just as vehement “fuck!” and sat up, wincing.

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    24 Jul 2021