#RAMBO 3

[sslimbo]

[imnobodyposts]

~John Rambo Headcanons~

[Pt.2]

A/N: Since there isn’t much fanfic out here, I’m gonna post something just cause... it’s fun!! Here are some random headcanons I thought of and what I personally think how John feels. So if anything seems inaccurate and contradictory to his character, *shrugs* can’t help ya there. Anyways enjoy, whoever reads it ☺~! 

Contains: Fluff, Mentions of ptsd breakdowns, all is SFW.

So where to begin? Let’s start with the fact John is very hands on with the domestic things in life; like helping around the house, cleaning top-to-bottom, fixing things and whatever it is that needs to be done.

It’s obvious he’s handy due to his experience in the military, so if something needs fixing, he’s there in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.

Sometimes at the crack of dawn, you wake up to his empty side of the bed, only to hear him hammering away on your roof. (Good thing, the nearest neighbor lives more than a block away.)

While John is considered to be quite the busy bee, every busy bee needs to cool down their motor sometime.

John has a handful of hobbies, I’m sure, and reading is one of them.

John may not look like the type to read, but he actually reads all the time. I honestly see him being a huge fan of old wild west novels.

And if he really liked a certain book in particular, he’d offer to let you borrow it (as it’s a personally owned book), or maybe even read it to you if you wanted him to. Keep in mind, you’re the only person he’d read to or let borrow things from him.

You’re also the only person he’d ever allow to play with his hair. Yes! He loves it when you play with his hair. He never admits it, but honestly, does he really have to?

The first time you played with his hair, he was rather surprised, jumpy even. Not on purpose nor was it his fault (or yours) you startled him.

The only time anyone had ever touched his hair, meant to purposefully harm him. (If you’ve seen the movies, you’ll know what I mean.)

At the very least, John questioned what was happening with his eyes.

Since you’re you, he almost immediately softened under your touch and my god, was it relaxing. Now, if you’re lounging somewhere like in the bedroom or on the sofa, he’d rest his head on your chest, letting your fingers comb through his hair as he read his books or watched TV.

I mentioned him loving to have his hair played with. Well, that’s especially the case when there’s another breakdown from his trauma of the war or when he wakes up in cold sweats from nightmares. Almost always, do you comb through his hair when you’re cradling him in your arms until he fully calms down. You being there is enough for John, but combing his hair is enough to put him back to much needed sleep.

[touslesfilmsquejaivu]

[rabidhiss]

Rambo appreciation post.

Rambo First Blood said something. It was a commentary on how America treats it's veterans of war, discards them as if one can simply "turn off" the impact of shell shock and all the brutality of falling head first into hell on earth.

Rambo First Blood Pt. 2 and Rambo 3 were big budget action movies set to capitalize on a character that is now largely expendable and used as a weapon.

Rambo (Rambo 4) and Rambo Last Blood (Rambo 5) fully accept and gleefully rejoice in what the character John Rambo has become: Exploitation. Grindhouse. Murder fantasies based on revenge in being a victim of a system that is inherently broken. This is not to say by any means that I do not enjoy these films. Quite the opposite, my favorite films are within the genre of revenge and exploitation. Irresponsible style over substance, one track mindedness, and heart ripping gore so brutal and vivid one would br forgiven for thinking there must have been a sale on vacuous containers full of fake blood.

[bangjiazheng]

Rambo III Longplay (Arcade) [QHD]

[jm-crumpet]

80s film directors: "Can you make the horses as loud as possible? I want the audience to hear those hooves when they go to bed"

[thierry1970]

[jimmawww]

Inspirations 2

Spriggan (1998) - Metal Gear Solid (1998)

Rambo III (1988) - Metal Gear Solid V (2015)

Mickey Mouse (1928) - Sonic The Hedgehog (1991)

Neon Genesis Evangelion (1995) - Nier Automata (2017)

[daily-cassie-sandsmark]

[rambosgirl]

Hello!! I've been reading and rereading your Rambo fics and I crave another meal!

Could I request something (hcs or a one shot) where Rambo comes back injured and Reader takes care of him? Maybe even kissing a cut on his cheek, saying it’ll heal faster?

Thank you in advance 💜

Awww that's so sweet of you to say, and I'm so glad you enjoy my work! Another meal you shall have my dear <3

Masterlist

You heard the front door open, the sound of heavy boots thudding inside your home setting off a warm feeling in your heart. John was back.

He recently got a job at a lumber yard just outside of town, where he was gone for most of the day.

You stood in the kitchen, stirring the soup you prepared on the stove. John walked in, silently hugging you from behind as you added more seasoning. You hummed gently, reveling your husband's touch. Once you were done, you turned around in his arms to face him. You were about to say something when you saw it.

Across John's cheek was a cut. It was mostly scabbed over, but still fresh. It traveled from the bridge of his nose to the middle of his cheek.

"Oh dear! John, where did this come from?" You tried to keep your surprise inside, but it was hard when he was hurt. You reached your hand to his cheek, making sure not to brush the cut.

He enveloped your hand with his, saying your name gently.

"It's okay. Really," he assured.

"Okay, but just to be sure," you said before getting on your tiptoes and planting a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He looked at you quizzically, as if unsure of how to react.

"What? It'll make it heal faster."

His confusion melted into a loving gaze as he pulled you into a hug.

"You're too good for me," he mumbled into your hair.

"That's debatable," you teased lightly, "Now go wash it. My kisses can only do so much."

Reluctantly, he released you, his hands lingering at your waist for a moment longer before he nodded and turned toward the sink.

You watched him hunch over with exhaustion over the sink, starting to wash his face. His silence spoke volumes, but you had learned to give him space when he needed it. He had his own way of dealing with pain, whether physical or emotional.

You dished up soup for the both of you, placing it on the table before joining John at the sink with a washcloth. You held it under the warm water for a moment before dabbing it on the cut.

"You don't have to fuss," he mumbled.

"I know, but I want to," you said softly, continuing your work. "You better get used to someone else caring for you for a change."

A comfortable silence washed over both of you as you finished cleaning his cut. When you were done, you settled your hands on the sides of his face, your thumbs brushing against his unshaven jaw. He leaned into your touch, soaking up the affection you offered.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low. You could hear the emotion behind it - he wasn't just thanking you for your physical care, but for the gentleness and safety you brought him when he so often felt unsafe.

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. "I'll always be here to help you," you whispered. John looked at you like it was the first time he had laid eyes on you, trying to memorize everything about you at that moment.

You hesitated, giving him time before breaking the embrace taking his hand, and leading him to the table.

"Now all you need is this soup. It's so good it'll fix everything," you quipped.

"It better," he replied with a smile as he sat down.

You were right. The soup did make him feel better.

But not as much as you did.

[bbrrambo]

[cbennetti]

scritches

[retrocgads]

UK 1987

[folfar]

“No,” Nik said. He moved his arm away brusquely, as if that would say what he couldn’t.

Kastor scoffed. He reached out and dragged Nik’s arm back across the warm marble of the bench, pulled his hand into his lap. The strength of the movement wrenched at Nik’s shoulder. Just a little. Kastor had never known his own strength.

“Don’t be coy, Nikandros. She wants you.”

Sweat prickled at the back of his neck. He didn’t want to hear this. But Kastor had cornered him— no. He had been waiting, like the dog he was, for Kastor, where he always waited for Kastor in the drowsy afternoons of late summer, when Damianos had his usual standing appointment with whichever Kyrina had entranced him that week. Of course, this summer it wasn’t a Kyrina at all.

It was a Jokaste. She - splendid, glowing - was Jokaste.

“She is Damianos’ lady—“

“Who?” Kastor said incredulously. “You forget yourself, Kyros.”

But there was a smile hiding in the corner of his mouth. He liked it when Nikandros forgot honorifics for Damen. He did not see it for the affection that it was meant - he saw it as a deliberate insult. And it pleased him. It made Nikandros sick to think of. And then he went and lifted his skirts for Kastor anyway, which made him feel sicker.

anyway!!! paging tumblr user @hennike

[jeremiah225]

I watch both of them there awesome 💯

[piratespencilart]

A quick doodle to celebrate Dak winning my NeoScum fave pc poll by one single percent. Honestly love that the results were so close to a perfect split. Feels right.