#Rumble Boxing

[applesooyoung]

we all know san actually likes being called cute.

so what if he has a partner who's shoter and smaller than him yet calls him cute at every chance, praises him, calls him pretty, treats him like a princess and certainly services him like one too.

all sorts of sweet nothings in his ears as they milk him dry, he's so small when they touch him, he's barely able to think.

In this post, you're basically just gonna see me how I baby a bunch of grown men who is probably older and taller than me (`へ´*)

. . — headcanon ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ PLEASE REBLOG! spam likes = blocked .˚ ꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶

BACK TO: [ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐧𝐚𝐯 ]

He'd definitely deny it at first, let's be honest, he's not the first one to get used to it too because San really has this yk, strong, and intimidating aura that he has to protect. His lips would always fall in a pattern of tut and whine "Please stop calling me that, I don't like it" but over time, he would play along and as a matter of fact he would play along... A bit too much.

He took a bath and got out of the bathroom. His hair sticking up, his skin glistening from the warm shower he had just taken, and his towel perfectly hugging his waist. He looks so delicious "Why hello there pretty" You took him by the waist and kissed his neck, he would try to stop his moans from escaping his mouth but he would smile and indulge himself in your touch while looking at the two of you in the mirror "You really think I'm pretty?"

And from that day onwards, he would be at your mercy; Choi San had given up to you and your affection. Every night he's getting pampered and he's taken care of better than the royalties and when it's his playtime with you, you have to be a bit more gentle just because he's your lovely boy and is super sensitive (but we all know you can go rough with him when he wants you to 😉)

"Good job baby, you're taking me so well. You're doing so good baby" Oh and please, he's definitely a sucker for those sweet nothings. One gentle whisper from you and he'd melt like a putty in your palm. Also, he wants all of your neck kisses. He's just overall a bbg and I'm livin' for it.

© applesooyoung

[citizenscreen]

On October 30, 1974, 32-year-old Muhammad Ali became boxing’s heavyweight champion of the world for the second time when he knocked out 25-year-old champ George Foreman in the eighth round of the “Rumble in the Jungle.” #OnThisDay

[mvfm-25]

" Gone but not forgotten! "

Dreamcast Magazine (UK) n34, the final issue! - June, 2002.

[acquired-stardust]

Digimon Rumble Arena Playstation 2001

[segacity]

L. Valentine 'Ready 2 Rumble Boxing' SEGA Dreamcast

[fandom-official]

Celebrate Native American Heritage Month by diving into these captivating shows and movies that honor their rich culture 📺🎬

Journey through these fascinating stories of resilience and tradition made by and about Indigenous people

[why-its-kai]

Scans of the boxes and obi for the Trigun: Badlands Rumble Revoltech Yamaguchi Series No.091 Vash the Stampede and No.092 Nicholas D. Wolfwood figures, released by Kaiyodo in 2010.

Scanned and edited by me.

Both boxes share the same designs on their top and bottom flaps as well as the side panel with the explanation of Revoltech.

[corner-stories]

How about….. 1 (coffee smell) with post-rumbling/alliance Reiner and Jean? (Does not need to be reijean btw!) :)

September Prompts 🌻

1. Coffee Smell *blows a kiss* here ya go!

The vessel taking them across the ocean is not entirely made with comfort in mind. Some parts are purely utilitarian, built to serve a single purpose as efficiently as possible. It's the kind of environment that Jean's rather used to, and he's not sure if it's due to his years as a soldier or because the finer things in life don't exactly please him anymore.

Nonetheless, a sense of familiarity permeates his being as he occupies the mess deck of the vessel. As he sits at one of the tables, the scent of coffee imbued into the air, he quietly fusses over the latest piece in his sketchbook.

When he's not sipping from a metal cup, he's utilizing the pans in his paintbox to breath life into a sketch. With a brush he places gentle strokes of watercolour onto this morning's drawing — the subject of which being his coffee.

Because sometimes there's nothing better to do — no other way to pass the time than to open his sketchbook, find the nearest object, and try to immortalize it through paint and ink. And it's at this point of the voyage that Jean's getting quite tired of sketching Connie.

After he places strokes of grey onto the page, Jean puts his brush down and reaches for his coffee. He takes a sip as he waits for the paint to dry, a process that often tests his patience and reminds him to trust the process. At least it's slightly easier to paint on a ship than on a moving train, even if last night's unexpected wave shook things up in the most literal sense.

Jean puts his coffee down and mixes pigments on the upturned lid of his paintbox. As he details his masterpiece with a combination of red oxide and chestnut brown, he hears footsteps coming from the hall.

He looks up to see Reiner looking as exhausted as can be at this ungodly hour. He yawns with one hand and holds his suit jacket in the other. It gives Jean the impression that Reiner did not sleep well last night and that maybe the wave bothered some passengers more than others.

The two make eye contact before Reiner notices the cup on Jean's table.

"Is that coffee?"

"No, it's gasoline."

Reiner scoffs and Jean smirks. He reaches for his cup again and happily takes a sip as Reiner walks across the mess. The burly blond goes to the stove in the corner and pours himself a healthy serving from the percolator, then joins Jean at the table.

Reiner sits across from the Ambassador masquerading as an artist, mustering the energy to blow on his coffee and eye Jean's little painting. Jean is acutely aware of Reiner looking at him, but doesn't let it deter him from finishing his piece. They're far used to the other's presence, to the point where the awkward silences no longer feel awkward.

Outside the porthole the ocean is unchanging, nothing more than the line where the cloudy sky meets the sea. The vessel continues to move, both the hum of the engines and the water making their little corner of the world feel peaceful for once.

[l8news]

9/9/99: Hoy 9 de septiembre se cumplen 25 años de la salida de la consola Sega Dreamcast. Los GIF muestran como se promovió al Dreamcast en su mes de estreno en las tiendas Hollywood Video. [x]

[limplegsakimbo]

WHATS YOUR FAVORITE MOVIE PUPPET MAN

[coolthingsguyslike]

[wvbaandtheboys]

big boy boxing on wvbaandtheboys?? it's more likely than you think! anyways freezy boy and rock n' rumble are friends now cause they can be

[tachyon-omlette]

okay before I lose my thought (MASSIVE Rise of the Beasts spoilers re: Unicron)

in my opinion rotb handled Unicron perfectly.

when I first watched the full trailer & saw Unicron my second thought was "oh no" (my first being "YOOOOOO") because in the bumblebee-rotb timeline it seemed extremely early to be involving him. I went into the movie almost resigning myself to the thought that it would end with Unicron being destroyed & never seen again, because he was advertised as the main Big Bad.

but the truth is, Scourge was the main Big Bad. and while Unicron made several appearances and had more than one line, the primary thing he did was loom over the narrative like the slow approach of death - he did more than haunting the narrative, I think, but aside from his interactions with the Terrorcons and his arrival at the final scene, he was largely uninvolved in the main conflict, and was in the end defeated momentarily rather than destroyed.

what we did see of him was always displays of power: the destruction of the Maximals' homeworld, his ability to supply the battlefield with endless Terrorcon footsoldiers, his mindscape-meeting with Scourge wherein he tortured Scourge for failing him from Primus knows how far away. hell, even Scourge, Battletrap, and Nightbird themselves were living proof of Unicron's power - ruthless, near-invincible supersoldiers who've killed enough Cybertronians and Cybertronian-adjacent lifeforms to steal and wear their badges like a bounty hunter collects trophies. on-screen all of this is done through Unicron's power, the extension of his will - and not, notably, by Unicron himself.

this wasn't Unicron's moment to shine, only to be destroyed so early in the narrative.

this was the moment that painted a target on Earth, and on Optimus Prime. this was the moment that established how Unicron is accustomed to taking thralls from other worlds while also killing off the ones he already had, laying the potential groundwork for Galvatron or even Sideways. this was the moment that showed off just how powerful Unicron and his allies are without cramming it into the first fifteen minutes of another movie down the line, and when he appears again we'll already know just how fucked the protagonists are.

this was the setup to Unicron's moment to shine. though I'd hoped Unicron would get more screentime, rotb ultimately handled Unicron with the severity he deserves; for that, it was perfect.

sidenote: I got very big "then perish" vibes at the end of the movie, when Unicron said smth like "think about this, Prime. I could give you anything you want." and Optimus responded with "then DIE!!". it was dramatic in the moment but remembering it got me a good laugh

[segacity]

A preview of 'Ready 2 Rumble Boxing Round 2' on the Dreamcast. Source: Dream On Demo Disc Vol. 14 Support us on Patreon

[afrotumble]

[corner-stories]

30, nightgown with Jean and Pieck?

September Prompts 🌻

30. Nightgown Post-Rumbling Ambassador shenanigans because why not?

The bathroom on the vessel is just like the rest of the ship — constricting, utilitarian, and made with barely any elbow room. In his time as an Ambassador, Jean has seen many rooms just like it, but this might be the first time he's seen a shower head placed nearly above the toilet.

But nonetheless, it's enough room for him to comfortably bathe, though with the caveat that he must stand completely straight and remain unflinching under a stream of cold water.

In the midst of the night he turns off the shower and steps out. After patting himself dry, Jean wraps his towel around his waist and crosses the floor of the bathroom with a single step. He wipes steam off the mirror above the sink, a surface that is barely wide enough to show him his reflection.

As he slicks his hair back, Jean gets a good look at the current state of his stubble. At the moment it looks closer to a short beard than fashionable scruff. He's unsure if it's a side-effect of all the travelling he had done in the last month alone, or a sign that he's truly gotten lazy in matters of personal grooming.

It only takes a few seconds of observing the beard on his face for Jean to reach for his shaving kit. With the puck of soap and brush, he creates a suitable lather with the frigid faucet water. After applying the suds to his face, he reaches for his safety razor — a nifty contraption that he finds much preferable to a straight blade — and goes through a process he has performed dozens of time.

Though tonight Jean finds himself deviating from his usual routine, as he finds the motivation to remove the hair on his cheeks and chin, but not that above his lips. For what reasons he doesn't know, but what he does know is that it's been a while since his beard had been this long and something inside of him feels like experimenting.

When Jean finishes perfecting his new look, he rinses his face and changes into his nightclothes. Once he's dressed he leaves the bathroom with his toiletry bag in hand, a towel slung over his shoulder, and a style of facial hair he had yet to try in his twenty-something years of life.

When Jean opens the door and steps into the ship's narrow passageway, he is abruptly met with one of his fellow Ambassadors.

Suddenly Pieck is standing in front of him, clad in a white nightgown that goes beyond her knees and holding a similar toiletry bag. It's no surprise what she's doing at this time of night, unless ghostly-looking sleepwear and little nifty washkits have suddenly become the latest fashion.

Pieck looks just as startled as he is when she sees him emerge from the bathroom.

"Oh, hey," Pieck starts, then barely a second passes before she notices something rather different about her comrade. Her eyebrow quirks up. "What the hell's on your face?"

Jean frowns, but strokes his newly-trimmed moustache rather protectively. "Thought I'd try something different."

"You thought you'd tape a dying squirrel to your upper lip?" Pieck scoffs. Judging by the look on her face she's not appalled by the 'stache, but more confused. "You look like someone named Francis."

Jean sighs. "I'm experimenting, okay?"

"Experimenting with what?" Pieck laughs. Suddenly she shifts from 'mocking mode' to 'sincerity mode,' though with someone like her those two modes tend to blur the lines.

"Come on, none of us have been on active duty in years, you don't have to look like a first lieutenant in the army anymore," Pieck says in a voice that is as sweet as it is sarcastic.

Jean grumbles. In the mirror his little moustache looked alright — he hadn't been able to make the ends twirl upwards, but he was able to make it look presentable in a way that fit with his life of suits, ties, and peace talks.

But seeing Pieck so easily mock his look makes him think otherwise.

"Okay, good night, Pieck," he ends up saying in place of anything more snappy. At this point of the evening, he only has so much energy left in his system.

He walks past Pieck, wondering if his facial hair might look a lot better in the morning.

"Good night!" Pieck repeats back at him. "Hope that moustache didn't use up all the hot water."

"Ha!" Jean guffaws, then turns around to give her a sardonic look. "Bold of you to assume we even had any in the first place."