Kurt Angle

Nude Male Celebrity Sex Tapes:  mencelebrities.com

Anyone whining about today's WWE needs to go back to 2003 WWE where in one episode of Smackdown:

John Cena makes 4 fat jokes towards Rikishi within 3 minutes of the episode starting (includes intro time)

Dawn Marie says she wants to get married in the nude

Stephanie fucking McMahon is the voice of logical reason

Michael Cole has a frat boy stache and goatee combo

Tori Wilson is revealed to be hating Dawn Marie because her fiancé happens to be Tori's father (she saw them mackin naked in the shower and was scared for life)

The 'What?' chants

Cena comes out to antagonize Eddie Guerrero and drops 3 overtly racist rhymes

Tori is actually MOST upset because she was dating/sleeping with/had a one night stand with Dawn Marie, who was seeing Tori's dad every time they kissed

The preacher is doing a voice that is like if Bo Dallas had a baby with the priest from The Princess Bride

Dawn Marie finds a loophole in Stephanie's orders of "No nudity for you" by making her very elderly fiancé get naked

There is fully visible senior genitalia

The PlayStation 2 sponsored tag team battle of Team Kurt Angle VS Edge And Chris Benoit

Paul Heyman has a ponytail thicker and more luxurious than Roman Reigns' current hair

Heyman has a 'notice me, senpai' moment towards Big Show

Dawn Marie brags about her intentions to make a sex tape with her new husband and sends a message to her new stepdaughter/ex, Tori

Matt Hardy pulls a "I hurt you cause I want you to be the best" on Shannon Moore

"Paul Heyman promised Brock Lesnar would never get a title shot again" ~ Michael Cole, relating a bitchass lie

Sebastian antagonising Finn...

Sebastian is at the Lima Bean and Finn happens to walk in, spots him, and tries to ignore him. But his face is just so punchable.

F: "Dude. You go to school in Westerville. Why you gotta hang out here?"

S: "I do it just to annoy you, Finnegan, I promise."

F: "Ugh. Why did I bother asking?"

S: "If you must know, I'm meeting my boyfriend here. I know the manager so I know if anyone starts trouble over two gay guys minding their own business, it'll be dealt with."

F: "... That's actually really nice. What's your angle here?"

S: "I also really like antagonising every Nude Erection who shows up.... Speaking of Nude Erections..." *Sebastian leers over Finn's shoulder*

F: "Ugh. I don't need to see this."

Finn turns around and--

Kurt, two octaves too high: "Finn! I didn't know you were going to be here."

S: "It's alright babe, we were just having a friendly chat."

F: "Babe?"

S: "Finnegan, this is Kurt. My boyfriend."

F: "I know who he is. He's my brother... Wait... BOYFRIEND?!"

K: "He's just messing with you, Finn."

F: "Oh, so you're not boyfriends?"

K: "... Okay, that part he was telling the truth."

Finn would be convinced that it’s another Jesse St. James situation where Sebastian would be using Kurt to win a competition (even though I’m imaging at this point, The New Directions have already won against The Warblers at regionals... but to Finn, you can never be too sure. He’s just an overprotective type)

He’d enlist Rachel for help (based off of ‘Rumours’) & try to stalk them... he needs to make sure that his brother isn’t being messed with. And Rachel is always happy to take down competition, plus she cares about Kurt’s well-being too.

Rachel and Finn don’t believe that Sebastian has turned over a new leaf, they’re convinced that he’s playing Kurt. They think Sebastian manipulated Kurt into dating him. Which makes Kurt annoyed, because he should be able to be trusted to make his own decisions on who he wants to date.

Fic A Day 2018 - Day 352

Title: Realism

Author: darriness

Word Count: 341

Summary: Art class

AO3 Link

“It’s Realism week in art class.” Blaine explains over dinner one night. Blaine’s been taking an art class at the local community college just for fun. Turns out visual arts is one of the few things Blaine isn’t amazing at from the get go. The pair have been enjoying laughing at some of the works he’s created over the last few weeks.

Kurt nods, “So there’ll be a lot of pictures and painting of fruit bowls?” He asks.

Blaine hums, “Actually our instructor said we’ll be drawing nudes.”

Kurt chokes on the broccoli in his mouth. He coughs a few times before managing to say with a strained voice, “Female or male nudes?”

Blaine smirks, “He wasn’t clear. Could be either. Could be both.”

Kurt purses his lips, “Well…that’s fine. Should be educational.” He says.

Blaine nods, “Should be. Having to draw the real truth of the models and all their muscles and angles.”

Kurt straightens his shoulder and stabs his next piece of chicken a little harder than he intended. He’s not sure why this bothers him so much. It shouldn’t. He trusts Blaine explicitly and it’s not like just because they’re nude models does it mean anything untoward is going to happen. He’ll get over it.

Blaine smiles as he watches his husband before sighing, “The instructor did say, though, because of the sensitive material, that if we wanted to do our own Realism drawing before class we could be exempt.” Kurt looks over at him as Blaine shrugs, “Maybe I could just find a bowl of fruit to draw.” He continues, “Or…” He says looking at Kurt, “Maybe I could find a model around here to draw.”

Kurt’s cheeks pink slightly, “In the nude?” He asks.

Blaine shrugs, “If the model was willing.”

Kurt coughs, “Well, if it would be for your education. And if it were tasteful.” He says.

Blaine smirks again, “Oh, it would be both. Maybe, I could practice my anatomy lessons at the same time.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow as the pair laugh.

Count ‘Em (R. Reigns smut)

Really, this is more of a drabble, but hey! Here it is! Someone posted a video of Roman saying,”Count ‘em.”and they suggested that a smut come from it! So here it is!

Warnings: seriously, this is nothing but smut, PWP, eh, okay, there’s a hint of fluff at the end, Daddy!kink, slight pregnancy kink, spanking, biting, spanking, lord forgive me for I have sinned,

I crossed my ankles and swung my legs casually, knowing that Roman would be home soon and he would be pissed when he arrived. I had been bad, extremely bad.

I sent him nudes while knowing he was in a meeting with Kurt Angle, Paige, Shane McMahon, and Vince McMahon about the Superstar Shakeup. His text back was one I wasn’t totally opposed to receiving,”You are in so much fucking trouble.”

I pulled one of Roman’s shirts over my head and perked up when I heard his car door shut. My lovely husband was home finally. I shifted then watched the door like a hawk just waiting for him to enter the bedroom.

The door jerked open and his eyes flashed dark with lust and fury. I had really fucked up but damn was I eager for my punishment.

“Take it off.”he growled, peeling his tank top off. I pulled his shirt up past my hips teasingly, wiggling my ass as I did so and he snarled, snatching me up by my wrist before yanking the shirt over my head.

He shoved me onto the bed once again and pushed me onto my stomach, slapping my ass. I yelped but quickly quieted when he ordered,”No, count ‘em. You wanted to be bad, knowing that I had a meeting with four of the most important people of WWE, well now you’re going to pay for it. Count ‘em, baby girl.”

He spanked me again and I murmured,”One.”

“One what?” I bit my lip then moaned, knowing what he wanted to hear, and muttered,”One, Daddy.”

“Yeah, that’s a good girl. It’s a fucking shame you wanted to be bad. I was going to come home and treat you since I had a meeting. I was going to pin you down and eat you out until you were trembling and sobbing, begging for mercy. But since you decided to send me those naughty fucking pictures, baby girl, I’m going to spank your ass until you can’t take it.” he informed me with three more slaps to my ass.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy! I just thought you would be out of your meeting when I send those.” I pleaded, fluttering my eyelashes at him in hope that he would have some sympathy for me. But he shook his head and continued to spank me.

Finally, I cried out for mercy and he paused, rubbing the sore skin with a tender hand, before he asked,”Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m so sorry,Daddy!” I sobbed as he laid me on my stomach, rubbing lotion over my bottom. He sighed and turned me to face him then he pecked my lips as he cooed,”You really need to stop sending those pictures during my meetings. If Seth hadn’t been beside me, my bosses would’ve seen those. I’m pretty sure you gave the poor man a heart attack when you sent me the last picture.”

“I’ll be sure to send him a fruit basket.” I assured him,combing my fingers through his hair,”But first, I’d appreciate it if you would fuck me please.”

“Always so polite when you want me to fuck you. Fast or slow?” He wrapped his arm around my leg as I told him that it didn’t matter then he pressed the head of his cock to my entrance, never putting too much pressure, which was my problem.

“Okay,okay, I lied! Fast, fast, fuck me fast please!” I cried out, gripping his hair tightly. He grinned in response before sinking balls deep into me, causing me to gasp.

“God fucking dammit, baby girl, your pussy is so tight. You already wanting to come? Can feel your cunt quivering.”he purred, pressing harshly on my clit and I sobbed, head thrashing back and forth as he spanked me again.

“Daddy, Daddy, please, lemme come!” I begged, fingernails dragging down his chest before finding his nipple. He snarled as I pinched the bud then he ordered,”Fucking come. Come now, my little whore.”

I screamed his name as my body thrashed in his hold then he shoved me onto my back, his thrusts becoming sloppier with each one.

“You want me to come in your pretty pussy, baby girl? Fuck it into you, maybe give you a baby to carry?”he growled, fingers tightening around my throat. I moaned at the thought then cried out,”Yes please, Daddy, give me your come!”

“God yes,baby girl, take my come.” He locked his lips around my pulse point and his orgasm tossed me spiraling into another. He rolled off then moved between my thighs, staring at my entrance as his come trickled from my pussy.

“That’s so hot.”he purred before giving me a quick kiss. I let out a small laugh then muttered in return,”You're crazy.”

“But you love me.”he replied with a smirk.

“That I do.”

Jedi make the Worst Roommates

AN: No really, take it from the disaffected agent. He knows the struggle. 

This is my Imp. Agent x my Jedi Knight sometime after the Eternal Empire forces cooperation between the Empire and Republic. I can have two outlanders if I want.

One of Cipher’s favorite things about coming home was washing the city off his body. Coruscant’s enormity was every bit as filthy as it was gaudy. It seemed to him that people pretended not to notice sewage pouring into the corners of their beautiful plazas or the crazed eyes of someone who hadn’t eaten in months and didn’t know if they ever would again outside that gold peaked senate tower steepled into the clouds. Cipher had lived in a city wiped clean of people all of his life. It was like one of those replica sets: sharp, clean, empty. But if Kaas City was fake, or shallow, if they were all just bugs in an Imperial belljar – then Cipher was more relieved than ever to be the Empire’s golden boy.  

He ducked his head under the stream of water from his refresher and luxuriously shook his hair out backwards. Satisfied with the rinse, Cipher ran his fingers through the short locks to sluce out water and glanced into the clouds spilling from the full glass wall in front of him. The windows tinted from the outside the realtor had assured him, but from indoors it was hard not to feel like he was creating a spectacle for the steady stream of dimly glowing speeders below. The Republic might have offended a steel bar of pride that ran through his chest, but did he love to look at it. The skyscrapers' angled metal points painted the sky with reflections of sunlight gleaming off them as the lights turned on below. It was the most glorious skyline he’d ever seen.  

A rectangle glass refresher for his rectangle glass room in a rectangle glass condo. It was gluttony incarnate. Cipher had grown up fabulously rich by Imperial standards, but he hadn’t comprehended the true uselessness of money until he agreed to play pet agent for the Republic and their starboy Jedi. The Empire concentrated money in the hands of the meritous. In theory. The mechanisms were subject to exploit, like any other system, but the Republic’s network of Trade Federations reaped money from its struggling citizens the same way he’d watched splicers scoop organs from still living donors. One could be wealthy in the Empire, but in the Republic credits stacked to the stratosphere. 

This living arrangement was thankfully temporary; when the threat resolved itself, for better or worse, he’d put down rent on the first shithole one bedroom apartment in Kaas City he could find. It made him feel less nauseated by his experiments in extravagance to know he was just burning through a windfall he neither wanted nor needed. 

Cipher sucked residual menthol from his teeth and rubbed the tightness from his shoulders one last time before holding his hand over the sensor, cutting the water flow. Hygiene didn’t take long by habit. A fastidious creature, Cipher had the added incentive of his precision obsessed father and military trauma to guide him through the simple process of cutting away excess time.

Being such a creature of habit, Cipher always left his keys in the drawer, bag on the table and shoes tucked into the hallway's closet. He left the lights off, then he was off upstairs to watch the sunset bounce off of water droplets without a second thought to the spaces he haunted. He liked letting twilights wind down to their natural conclusion before throwing on artificial florescence.

When the lights winked on today, he remembered that he’d forgotten he had a roommate. He wasn’t in (he hardly was at night until he whisked in at 3 AM smelling like men and cheap beer) and hadn’t been for months. It appeared he’d come home today only to vanish by nightfall leaving what looked like the remnants of a very Jedi sized panic attack on their coffee table, couch, and in a tight trail into the kitchen. Cipher picked up a bowl crusted with dried up noodles and wondered what the general public would do if they knew the Hero of Tython was a slob with no particular skill outside of his lightsaber.

Cipher followed the charging port wires thrown over the couch arm (miraculously not half tugged from their sockets) to the sink full of a hurriedly eaten lunch. Having just plunked down the noodles on the little cutting board by the sink, Cipher just stared into it. Dishes. With stale food. In the sink. He closed his eyes and flexed his hands as though reaching for someone’s shoulders to give them a stiff shake. It was when the old familiar ache in his jaw twinged, that he realized he was grinding molars. He opened his eyes and forced a breath between his teeth only to be greeted with the top lid of an empty Holotray dinner globbed with mash and a cardboard box peel. Cipher squealed with defeat deep in the back of his throat.

Soapy water and steam scrubbed everything away including the dull ache just under his heart that a path of mess had left. It scrubbed the frustration away, but not the clacking making its way down the hall; that was impossible not to hear over the sound of the water and Cipher’s own mental steam.

“Kurt?”

The Sith glanced up under the ridge of his brows at his deadname. The Hero with his concussion staff looked like he’d gotten into a fight with his pillow and had thoroughly enjoyed every second. Elutherius was fond of airy shirts that fell to the knees and little else, nothing else if he could get away with it, which Cipher usually let him. The Navy had made him unshy about holding conversation with nude participants - frontal or otherwise. The white coarseweave Elutherius wore now billowed down over his thighs. A stray sleeve had drifted partway down one of his broad shoulders. The looseness had a softening effect on his hard physic so that what Cipher would normally class as “wiry” became “slim.”

“When’d you get home?”

“Last night.” Sleep cracked his voice.

Cipher paused a moment to let the running water fill the silence. “Don’t you have a cane?”

“Couldn’t be bothered…” Elutherius flicked his wrist as though alluding to the presently horrified clutter that was his room.

“And how many times have I told you to clean up after yourself? Not tidy, not organize, just clean up things that are gross.”

A small smile played over Elutherius’ lips. “Define ‘gross’ Kurt because you and I have very different definitions.”

“Food waste. For one. You can’t let it sit overnight.”

“And it didn’t—” Elutherius began to sigh.

“—Or for literal hours at a time.”

“Food’s just kinda one of those things that happens when you have life; it’s not gross.”

“I didn’t ask you to live with me so you could leave food out.”

Cipher turned off the sink. Dried his hands. Straightened the towel. Listened to Elutherius clack his way around the island.

He’d asked in hopes of manipulating Elutherius out of the cult of Jedi he’d joined. It was the only way an ex-Imperial officer and Intelligence Agent knew how to be a friend. In truth, Cipher didn’t know what he expected from Elly. Once, when Cipher was still very young, he had been his slave, then his father’s apprentice, and now a Jedi named Friyr Illustratum. Elutherius burned bridges in pursuit of freedom that Cipher wasn’t entirely convinced he could find. Circumstance pushed them back together. He was, in essence, Elutherius’ last bridge back to the Empire. He had no illusions that Elly’s first instinct was to take up torch, but something stayed the Jedi’s hand.

He squeezed Cipher’s bare shoulder. “Mmmn, well, messy is me.”

Cipher had heard that earning the love of a Jedi was a starcrossed fate. Sometimes there were moments of weakness but it was mostly longing for an ill-gotten lover. Romantic drivel that the Republic fattened its citizens on.

Loving a Jedi felt like a man trapped by a cult into a life of servitude as a zealotous solider with a serene smile. “Friyr Illustratum” was just a former slave manipulated by dogma. There was nothing noble, sacrificing, or romantic about loving a friend captive to sycophants and his own warped mentality. It was just sad. Irrevocably sad.

“What do you mean it’s you?” Cipher huffed as he plucked up the lid and trash and threw them into the bin.

“I mean, like. When you used to live with me I was a servant. You weren’t living with me as a person. I don’t gotta clean up after ya anymore, Hot Shot is what I’m sayin’. Get a maid.”

Cipher sighed, but his big yellow eyes softened around their hard unnatural glow. His words reflected none of that softness. “You can be yourself and have common decency for our living space without it turning into I’m Very Oppressed.”

Elutherius’ returning smile was suddenly bitter. “Not everybody lives in your world, Grimmel.”

Ah. There it was. The name: ‘Grimm little,’ shortened to ‘Grimmel’ over the years. It was his father’s Sith-given name that his mother had cooed at him when he at a very young age dedicated himself to being his father’s perfect replica. It was an ambition like that city again, perfect and precise but ultimately empty of who Cipher was. It was only Elly who saw Cipher as more than his father, and it was only Elly who could wield an old pet name with the same deadly precision as a saber.

“True maturity is knowing that actions don’t define you so long as you’re secure in your identity. Slave is all you’ll ever be if you constantly run from it.” The last thing had been unintentionally hard; these were a prelude to a fight that Cipher had felt coming the day he’d clapped eyes on the traitor.

Silence fell like a curse as Elutherius developed a case of lockjaw, but whether he’d truly lost his scathing rage the way he claimed or if a large helping of Jedi patented patience was keeping him level, Elutherius didn’t rise to the occasion. Conversation for the night was done.

Cipher turned on his heel to the hangar. He wanted Elutherius to tear into him. That he didn’t with the fervor of a mad hound rattled Cipher’s long vacant insides until he felt like he was losing his footing in a world quickly falling too far away too fast in unfamiliar skies with an unfamiliar man. It was enough to drive him to drink.

And he had been again. It wasn’t like last time when he needed alcohol to replace his guts when Elutherius had “died” on a planet that wasn’t home. It wasn’t like the days when they patronized him with an honorable discharge and knowing smiles that said “you gave having a real job a shot Rich Boy.” He just needed the edge off once in a while, and everything was okay.

The hangar was a one speeder affair. Elutherius didn’t drive and Kurt’s tiny Rendili didn’t need much pomp and circumstance. Instead, the space was filled by racks full of weapons that they said they’d use, then never had the time to take out but yet still couldn’t find a good enough excuse to get rid of. Cipher had a wall of cabinets in the far north corner overflowing with parts for his artificing hobby. The delicate handiwork had kept him up through painfully sober nights moved back into his parent’s house.

Edging around the bulk of his speeder pressed close to the sides of the already cramped space, Cipher had to pull a ladder braced on the cabinets against his chest in order to stick his arm in. He frowned. From the sliver he could see the empty bottle of Kyrf, but the 6-pack he’d been slowly depleting had left a large empty space.

“Looking for these?” Elutherius stood in the doorway, Cipher’s six-pack flagged in one hand. “You got quite the stash back there.”

Cipher stared. His chest felt strangely tight. It wasn’t until Elutherius had found him stealing in his own home that he realized how much he’d enjoyed being the one without baggage. Kurt Wax had been a young man with the world laid out at his feet. A natural leader and the anchoring point of many an operation. Cipher 9, well, he’d made a lot of hard decisions and the pay was good.

“I might be. Yes.” Kurt said. His voice echoed in the wide empty spaces.

Friyr crooked a finger and he came. He still didn’t know what he expected from the Jedi as he stood in front him, his feet shoulder width apart and hands folded behind his back. Punishment in Kurt’s world was always swift and meaningful, whether verbal or physical. He had learned young how to take his stripes.

Friyr hugged him. His strong arms pinned Kurt’s arms to their sides as the former officer’s posture stiffened rather than softened. It was an unfamiliar position for both men. Friyr had never been the type to dole out affection even as a Jedi; he handled his position with a serious kind of grace. And well, Kurt was curt.

“Uh.”

“This is awkward; isn’t it?” Friyr asked. His breath caught the edge of Kurt’s neck.

“Quite.” Friyr abruptly let go and neither looked at the other. Kurt smoothed down his tank top and faked a cough. “But it was… appreciated. Er-- Thank you.”

“Look, if you can go easy on the alcohol, I can—stop rebelling against something I was a long time ago and just be a person.”

Kurt tilted his head towards Friyr.

“Which is to say, I can clean up a little.”

Kurt was silent for a while as he watched the light behind Friyr frame him into a silhouette. “Why’re you so afraid of it?”

“Too much time on my hands makes me antsy, and I don’t want to go back to filling that being house boy again, so I do nothing. And still feel pretty awful, not gonna lie.”

“Is that why you go out all night?”

“I—uhhhh—never really thought about it like—Hold on, Wise Guy, this is about you. What’re you; some kind of drunk or somethin’?”

“Yes,” Kurt said plainly.

“Oh… Why?”

“Too much time on my hands,” Friyr snorted, and Kurt responded with a rare smile. Automatically, his hand came up to brush Friyr’s elbow since the other man couldn’t see his lips. “after you died. My story ended that day if I ever really had one to begin with.”

“What do you mean? ‘Course you got a story, Kurt.”

“No. I think I was always a part of ours. The Force has always pulled us together for better or worse. We lost people along the way--”

“—Pour one out for Draq—” Friyr muttered the ill-fated Inquisitor’s name under his breath.

“—But it’s always been you and me in the end.”

Friyr flushed pinker than the setting sun dying through their dusty hangar windows. “Isn’t this where you’re supposed to kiss me?” It was an oddly vulnerable color, and although Kurt had had a few girlfriends and had never been in love, it wasn’t an objectionable idea. Not by a long shot.

Kurt leaned in and watched the Jedi’s eyes widen. His hands came up in protest before Kurt cut him off with a grin full of canine. “You wish.”

Still life annotations

For my still life scenes I had a brief idea of what I wanted, so when creating each image I just played around with angles and props. When placing each prop I then carried on photographing within the same area to try create different looks.

Scene 1

This was the only clear image I wanted to create by using a well known shoe brand (Kurt Geiger) I picked a very glamorous heel to contract Against the dirt surroundings of a work site. I think this worked out really well and portrays the different sides of a women’s world within one picture. I did think to edit the bricks to remove the dust and dirt but decided against it because it gave more of a realistic and rustic look because clearly a construction site would be dirty. So I think it gave the image more depth with the blemishes left untouched.

Sence 2 

I had the same idea as in the first image but just decided to move the heels around certain objects within the work site. I think this is a powerful image because using the portrait setting on my iPhone camera made the heels clearer and everything behind it blurred. Although its blurred out you can still tell that they are construction wait bags and rotten wood surfaces.

sence 3

Here I wanted to combine a workbench, where you'd start the day, collect all your tools and prepare yourself for a job with a dressing table. To me they hold the same meaning as a woman would start her day getting ready at a dressing table. By adding make up brushes and other women's essentials with simple work tools on the work surface created a great contrast of getting ready for the work day. This image also link into the idea that women construct themselves for the day which is the powerful image I want to use for the front cover. I think this is what I desired to create and worked really well with such simple props. I like how the mirror blurred out the surroundings so makes you focus with whats at the front of the image.

scene 4 

For my final still life scene I wanted to show the diversity within a woman's wardrobe. By clashing the bold powerful high visability jacket with a nude jewelled dress brought out the colours in the image. By focusing on the coat hangers creates the idea it is hanging within a wardrobe even though it isn't clear within the whole image. Personally this isn't my favourite image but I think it works really well with the women in construction idea. By portraying the feminine and masculine side of a woman.

Musings on Kurt  18+ Greedfall Kurt Romance  I’ve been dwelling on this for a while, also I just noticed when using my phone the paragraphs work normally but when using my computer they do that stupid double space thing? After messing around I fixed it by setting markdown as the text editor??? Never mind I created a new problem, hell. OhhOHOHOHOHOHO I'VE FIGURED IT OUT AND NOW NOTHING CAN STOP ME

Kurt hadn't been their master of arms long. Two years perhaps? He really hadn't been counting, he’d started when the lady De Sardet was 16, and he was, being 5 years older then her, 21. He was 23 now, the lady being 18, and the lord being 15, so two years he decided. Kurt was young for a master of arms but, the young lord Constantin had been very stubborn, adamant that his instructor be young and close to him in age, and the lady De Sardet was quick to insure he had his way. Perhaps the young lord had hoped for a new friend, or just someone he could trust. He could see how little the young Constantin was cared for, how little praise and love he received. Instead praise was heaped upon the lady De Sardet but, she seemed to disregard it like it meant nothing to her, often giving it to her cousin when she could. A true diplomat, they said, but she often laughed saying it was for her cousin that she became so. So she might be of use to him. They must have assumed she was trying to assure her position at court. But Kurt could easily see the truth. The way she moved to block Constantin from blows when his father was angry, the way she fought for Constantin when others laughed at his mistakes, the many many times he had pulled her from the training ground after her rage at Constantin's treatment had left her hands bloodied and bruised, her sword all but broken in two and a training dummy lacerated to pieces.  It hadn't taken long, for Kurt to begin to care for the two. He was with them constantly, protecting them, training them. He saw the way they protected each other, and he grew happy to know them, happier as they grew to trust him. Letting him in on their secrets, dragging him along for their fun. So it was no wonder when she came to him that night. Her dress torn, tears and hurt like he had never seen. He'd feared the worst then. Brigands? Thieves? He'd begged her for answers as she shivered and sobbed in his grasp. A noble she'd told him, Kurt seethed, The Prince had long since given him full right to kill any who dare lay a hand on her, but she held him back.  "He didn't get that far." She had answered in a surprisingly level voice. "I managed to grab a knife and stab him in the hand."  That’s my girl, he'd thought, hugging her close and breathing a sigh of relief. He made to leave again, to entrust a guard he knew well to protect her, but again she stopped him. Begged him not to leave her alone. As strong as she was he realized, she only trusted him to protect her. So he sent other guards to apprehend the man while he walked her to her room. He stood guard at her door, eyes closed trying not to watch her too intently where she sat on her bed. She had insisted he stay in the room, he didn't argue. Moments later the Prince, her mother, and Constantin had burst into her room, seeing the state she was in the Prince turned immediately on him. Accusing him of not looking out for his niece, and why wasn't he hunting for the retch who had touched her. Before the Prince could utter a word more the young lady was in front of him. Shielding his massive frame with her small one. She answered that she had begged Kurt to stay with her so the man could not try again, that it was her fault Kurt had not been with her as she had believed the noble trustworthy. The prince relented with a glare, never one to refuse his niece. In the nick of time a guard called from the door that the noble had been found. The Prince left then to see to justice, though Kurt could feel a dock to his pay coming.  Once the Prince had left her mother and cousin began to fawn over her, asking her what had happened, who it was, she had merely shook her head and asked them to let her rest for the night before she answered them. Constantin had accepted readily, knowing his cousin needed time, understanding her on a surprisingly deeper level. Constantin left, but her mother remained. She hugged her daughter to her, brushing her hair and singing a beautiful song. De Sardet had begun to sob then, a noise like Kurt had never heard. Full of pain and fear. It made his heart ache. Finally as she quieted, the pain in his chest abated. Her mother kissed her gently on the head, telling her to sleep and helping her into a nightgown while Kurt turned away. He listened to the rustling of sheets as she lay down, though he sensed she would be up again soon. As her mother passed him she whispered darkly that he was not to fail again. Kurt felt a chill, the woman loved her daughter, but any other she would happily kill herself he realized. He waited, his breath held as the woman left. He rarely feared others, but that woman sent shivers down his spine.  Finally De Sardet shifted, sliding off her bed she walked slowly towards him.  "Kurt, I have thought long and hard about this." Her tone worried him. "I don't want some noble pig to be... To be the first man I lay with." Kurt hesitated, was she saying what he thought she was? She couldn't be but, he remembered the way she watched him sometimes. When he was overseeing recruits, when he was doing heavy work, when it was hot and he'd shed his shirt to continue his personal training. He'd seen the way she watched him move, and she wasn't the only one. He couldn't count how many times a woman had invited him to her bed, at times he'd even been tempted. But thoughts of her stopped him. Her soft skin, her ocean blue eyes, the way her brown hair shimmered in the light. His lady, he could think only of her when other women approached him. Though it was forbidden for him to be with her. She would surely be married to a noble soon. His heart squeezed at the thought.  "I can't just..." He couldn't decide what to say.  "I know this is sudden, but tonight has proven to me that if I'm to have a choice in the matter it must be now, before some other man tries to claim me." Her eyes were bright, red lined from tears. He couldn't help himself as one slid down her face. He reached up and brushed it aside.  "I don't think I could..." Kurt realized then the extent of her request. He had to ask himself if he could live with this, if he could live with another man forcing himself upon her first or if he would rather live with the knowledge of having been her first and never being able to act on his feelings again. "My lady, if I sleep with you tonight what then of tomorrow? Do I pretend I've not the knowledge of your touch, do I forget the sight of your body?"  "Yes," she blushed now, "as I must forget the sight of yours, forget your tender embrace."  Kurt mulled it over. Their feelings, their wants. He could live with just one night, if he could remain at her side forever. He decided.  "Anything for you, my sweet lady, anything." He whispered quietly, unclipping his sword belt and carefully propping his sword against the wall. Her hands were clumsy, trying to help him from his brigandine. He chuckled. "Allow me."  >He quickly disrobed, only his braies remaining.  "Shall I aid you, my sweet lady?" His hands brushed up the side of her gown.  "Yes please." She turned allowing him to untie the back of her nightgown, he watched as the cloth dropped from her body. His breath caught in his throat. Her skin shown in the moonlight, soft and beautiful. It was too late to stop he decided, to late to ask her if she was sure. But he couldn't hold back the words, whispered into her shoulder with each kiss he placed upon them.  "Are you truly sure you wish to lay with me?" He kissed her neck now, feeling her shiver beneath him as his hands brushed her hips and moved upwards towards her chest wrap.  "Yes Kurt, I'm sure." She spoke quietly but with a surprising intensity. She gasped as he nibbled at her neck playfully. He smiled, her breath came faster as he slowly untied the garment. Dropping it to the floor, savoring her gasp as his hands closed around her breasts. He began to kiss down her neck, ending on her shoulder where he carefully bit down marking her just this once. She cried out quietly pulling away from him so she could face him. He forgot how to breath for a moment as she turned, her face was red from wanting, her chest heaved with every heavy breath she took. He felt a flair of desire like he'd never felt before, the woman he loved most in the world standing almost nude before him. His hands brushed down her waist catching on one last piece of cloth. He knelt as he pulled it down her legs.  "Kurt?" She seemed more concerned about his kneeling then about the loss of her underwear. Kurt looked up at her now, taking in the sight of her body from a new angle, he smiled grabbing her legs gently.  "You may need to brace yourself, my sweet lady. If you need to grab me, you can." Kurt slowly pushed her legs apart so she was more balanced.  "Kurt what are you...?" She was genuinely curious he realized, smiling. His mouth coming to rest against her. His tongue pushing deeper. He slid a finger inside her, then another, carefully working to bring her to release. Her left hand knitted through his hair, her right hand pressed into his shoulder, her back curved above him. He could only smile, working that much harder to bring her pleasure. She came quickly, her inexperience evident. He stood, catching her as she fell against him shivering and moaning quietly. He picked her up, walking to the bed and gently laying her down. He wiped her taste from his mouth, letting her catch her breath as he removed his braies.  "Do you wish to continue my lady?" Kurt asked her playfully.  "Yes, please!" She begged. How could he refuse he thought, climbing onto the bed and pulling her towards him. Carefully he angled himself, readying to enter her. He paused glancing to her face, searching for permission.  "Please Kurt, don't tease me like this!" Kurt smiled at her words. Slowly pushing into her, he could feel her tense around him, each squeeze caused him to shudder in ecstasy. She flinched a bit but he had worked her over well. She soon shivered in pleasure.  "My sweet lady," he whispered into her ear as she moaned, his right hand sliding down her stomach, he flicked his fingers gently over her clitoris. Eliciting a small cry as he slowly pulled back out of her. He eased into a slow rhythm working to bring her over the edge again and again, finally she bit down on her hand muffling her cries.  "Kurt!" She gasped out as he brought her again, "Kurt I can't take much more, please!"  "Please what my lady?" Kurt smiled as he increased his speed.  "Kurt!" She wailed a bit too loudly for his comfort.  "Fine. But it may be too rough for you." Kurt bent, kissing her chest, moving his right hand to her hip. Increasing the strength of his thrusts. "Kurt, we can't keep going all night I'll..." She cried out at a particularly hard thrust. "Wake the whole castle!"  "Can't have that can we now? Try to keep quiet while I finish my love." He kissed her forehead gently, pulling back as she bit down on her hand again. Kurt smirked, rapidly thrusting into her now. She cried out against her hand, shivering in delight at the new pace. Perhaps he had been wrong to think he would hurt her, but he couldn't dwell on that as he felt his own pleasure build. At the last moment he pulled back, finishing on her stomach. He panted, his muscles straining from the effort he'd exerted.   "My sweet lady?" He'd whispered, laying beside her for a moment.  "Yes Kurt?" She breathed heavily gasping out the words as she laboriously turning to face him.  "How do you feel?" his brow furrowed with worry now, wondering if he had gone too far, if he had hurt her after all.  "I'm fine Kurt, just tired." She whispered, kissing him. "That was incredible, I regret that we can't continue like this..."  She trailed off, tears welling up in her eyes.  "I'm so sorry Kurt, I suspected how you felt but I still asked this of you."  Kurt shook his head.  "No, no. Do not feel bad, this one night is enough. I will stay by your side forever, no matter who you choose, no matter where you go. I will always protect you, and I will always cherish this night in my heart, my sweet lady." Kurt kissed passionately her one last time, his eyes darkening. It hurt, he supposed. If he truly thought about it. But he knew he would manage, in times of doubt he would remember her love, in times of darkness he would remember her light, yes. This one night could sustain him for centuries he mused. A wonderful memory.  He slid from the bed, collecting their clothes from the floor. "Kurt?" Her voice called him back from his thoughts. "Just for tonight, you can sleep here with me, if you like."  Though he hated himself for it he knew he had to refuse.  "My lady." He spoke carefully. "If I lay beside you, neither of us shall sleep tonight."  She sighed then, nodding slightly as she stood to retrieve her nightgown.  "You're right Kurt. I'll have the servants bring a mattress from one of the other rooms."  "No. I can sleep on your sofa just fine."  "Are you sure?" Her brow furrowed, staring at the large sofa near her bookshelves. "It's soft but, it may not be as kind to you as you wish. And what of night clothes? Shall I have the servants fetch some?"  "No, no need my lady. I can sleep just fine in my armor." Kurt sighed, glancing at De Sardet. She had donned her nightgown once again. How he wished to kiss her just once more he thought before realizing where such thoughts would lead him. No, he decided, he was happy with this. He finished pulling on his brigandine. Sitting down on the couch. He threw one leg up onto the cushions the other still touching the floor. His sword within arms length. He pulled one of the cushions down to lay he head on, crossing his arms over his chest. He closed his eyes dozing off quickly. The last thing he remembered was his lady pulling a blanket over him and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. A small smile gracing his lips as he slept a content dreamless sleep.

Dragonsblood #2

Dragonsblood #2 Zenescope Entertainment 2019 Written by Nick Bermel Illustrated by Jason Muhr Coloured by Maxflan Araujo Lettered by Kurt Hathaway     After his fight with the dragon, Fafnir, Sigurd awakes to some troubling news. With a new threat on the horizon, Sigurd must team up with an uncertain ally to claim victory. But is this new villain truly the biggest threat, or is something even darker looming within Sigurd himself?     Have I said how much I am enjoying this? Because I really am. There is something about the way Nick is writing this where that big fight and destiny that was Sigurd’s life happening in the opening issue was an interesting touch and if that was just the introduction what could possibly come next? Nick isn’t wasting any time, it is a four issue arc mind you, with the introduction of new characters and a new mission for Sigurd, not to mention the aftermath of what happened when the sword was inside him. Did he survive or was something new borne of this encounter well read on and you’ll see, oh I meant the issue heh.     The opening for this issue is pretty darn awesome. If we’re all going to be honest when Sigurd meets his family again in Helheim the reunion will be sweet as they would expect him to fare no better against the dragon than they had. Presumably of course. So what we see with this is pretty strange and fantastic, like an episode of AHS. Can I say something that scar and how it runs is amazingly well done and why oh why must there be sheets there and I'm pretty they didn’t wear boxers he should’ve been nude. Regin oh he’s such a cute little dwarf isn’t he oh and please tell me he’s gay, after this reaction and such oh it has to be.     I like the characterisation that we are seeing here. Also getting see a bit about Freya well that’s quite something too. She’s a real bitch this one and absolutely kind of ruthless and while there is an animal attraction for Sigurd she’s not a character that’s easy to like. I am going to guess that this is done on purpose and maybe we’ll feel differently by the end of the arc so we’ll have to wait and see. Their encounter when she was in her trance should have been a start for her to share her knowledge not make fun of or pressure him.     Jason is doing some beautiful work on the interiors here. I am loving the strength we are seeing in the varying weights of the linework. How this is utilised to create some wonderful attention to detail that we’re seeing. I like the period clothing (most of it) and seeing Freya strapping her breasts like that as a warrior so they don’t get in the way is nicely done. Her tattoos are interesting as well and maybe we’ll see them emerge on Sigurd as well. The utilisation of the page layouts and how we see the angles and perspective in the panels show a strong eye for storytelling. That backgrounds are seen as much as they are thrills me and I hope Jason continues this throughout his career though hopefully they will continue into every panel. The colour work is gorgeous. Love some of the more pop moments like her trance state, the tattoos that white strapping not to mention that suit and hair Sigurd now has. ​     Sigurd thought his story would end with the death of the dragon or himself, and himself as it turned out. He has no idea what to do now and while Freya’s claims too much for helping him down the mountain he has no other plans and he’ll need someone like him when the times comes. This is an exceptionally strong tale with great story & plot development, pacing and characterisation wrapped up in a very pretty package of interior artwork. You’re going to enjoy this and the Norse angle is so much interesting than you’ll expect!

oh jesus corey graves has kurt angle’s nudes

Details On First Two "Miz & Mrs." Episodes, Luke Gallows And Karl Anderson Promo, Kurt Angle Singlet

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Details On First Two "Miz & Mrs." Episodes, Luke Gallows And Karl Anderson Promo, Kurt Angle Singlet

– Above is new video of Luke Gallows and Karl Anderson cutting promos for WWE Shop.

– Below is the synopsis for the “Miz & Mrs.” premiere on July 24th and the second episode on July 31st:

July 24th: “A Simple Mizunderstanding: Mike debates going full-frontal at Maryse’s nude pregnancy photoshoot.”

July 31st: “Miz Takes The Cake: Maryse plans a spectacular and expensive baby shower the couple will never forget; Mike tries to save a few bucks on an extravagant cake but ends up paying the price when his scheme fails.”

– WWE Hall of Famer Kurt Angle is selling his singlet from the 2017 Survivor Series pay-per-view to benefit the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Angle tweeted the following and included a link to the purchase page. The singlet is currently going for $2,000 and includes a signature:

To raise some money in support of LLS’ blood cancer research and other work, I am selling the singlet I wore for the WWE Survivor Series on Pay Per View in 2017. https://t.co/mrWzv0FxMp pic.twitter.com/BDpuvk0z0V

— Kurt Angle (@RealKurtAngle) July 11, 2018

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