#mma days

[llstarcasterll]

I suffered from some pretty severe MMA fighter Kevin Day brain rot a couple months ago

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[kideternity]

Underrated kamen riders in my humblest opinion tbh

[razzek]

So many people write Magnus as this sort of suave, devious guy who charms his way into getting what he wants and I am here to argue that this misses his character by a mile. This guy is a failure of a person who is surprisingly nonviolent at the end of the day (but cannot tell the difference between psychological torment and physical abuse). Guy spent like a decade stewing in thoughts of revenge but crucially was only able to get a tiny fraction of it because someone else, MMA, pulled him into their schemes. He does make for a fun villain but it does seem that most people take him at surface value and forget that this mofo is so self sabotaging that he ruined his own life way worse than anyone else's.

[guysshowingofftheirmuscles]

Have A Great Day! B

https://www.instagram.com/guysshowingofftheirmuscles

[theanticool]

Happy International Women’s Day

Here’s a handful of my favorite active martial artists to celebrate!

MMA - Natalia Silva

Boxing - Caroline Dubois

Wrestling - Yui Susaki

Kickboxing - KANA

Muay Thai - Smilla Sundell

Judo - Clarisse Agbegnenou

(I’ll probably add more later)

[naomiknight-17]

Not naming names but one of my visiting relatives yesterday made a comment about referring to black people as 'Silverbacks'

And I was like, "If you call someone a gorilla, I think they should tear your arms off like one"

His laughter died. He did not make further racist comments

[cloacacarnage]

[mosneakers]

. . .

Erik: Pers... Time to head in, kiddo. It's getting dark.

Persephone: But... but Daddy! We didn't even get to the final act! Our grand finale!

Erik: You heard what I said. Tomorrow always comes back around. Now hurry up, before I have to get your mama out here to ask. And that won't be pretty. For you.

Happy Love Day 🥰💘

[supersecretmetalocalypseblog]

The only way Charles could be safe from Salacia is if he died, and once he does, he learns about the prophecy, and The Church of the Black Klok. So... does that mean that MMA beating Charles in Dethrelease/Black Fire Upon Us not only drives me insane, but is a crucial moment in the prophecy?? Idk if it HAD to be MMA or if it could've been anyone who "kills" Charles. I am of the personal belief that MMA's role in prophecy is to guide (albeit accidentally) Dethklok towards their destiny. It's when he's first hired to kill DK that the metalocalypse begins, according to Cardinal Ravenwood. it's only after his attack on Mordhaus that CFO learns of his role as The Dead Man, it's through rescuing Toki and Abigail that the band first uses their powers, the Dethlights. Without ever realizing it, he's caught up in this ancient prophecy, actively being a pain in the ass for everyone involved, inching towards the precipice of an apocalypse. Listen to me, waffling on about prophecies n shit. Fire alone will save our clan, or whatever, amirite,,

[bisexualrapline]

2:30 am on a weeknight and i miss ot7 so bad my soul is rattling against my bones like the bars of a prison cell

[uppercut-athletics]

Body Shot K.O. (Exhibition Match)

[mmahypewatch]

[sukunasun]

i haven't stopped thinking about drug dealer choso he's plaguing my brain everything you say about him is so true. if you're up for it could we get some more thoughts about him? if not, no worries 💗 your writing's amazing and i've read through your masterlist so many times, ufc sukuna is the one i seem to come back to all the time

you admit you've always been on the outskirts. the audience looking at actors play out a scene that you were never a part of, these were the ones 'living' life and you were just observing it. never given a second thought, skipped over, tossed to the side. why did you even dress up for this lame party when not a single guy glanced your way, talked to you, or even noticed you. could have just studied and finished your homework with those precious hours given away.

maybe you should feel lucky, you were never cheated on, nor had sex with someone and regretted it...theres a luxury of privacy and being on your own. the freedom that comes when there's no one to answer to, no one to be responsible for, no one who could break your heart...

despite knowing you should just keep your opinion to yourself, you can't help but say it, "you know those things will kill you," you say matter of factly, in that know it all tone you've become so accustomed to using around him. or rather people like him. it's no secret choso's got one thing on his mind, making deals and running a business, maybe beating up a few individuals in between. with money to make and a family to feed, he's a grown adult allowed to do whatever he wants to his body, what's with this sudden possessiveness, this need to intervene.

you don't try to fantasize about the possibility of more, he's not someone worth getting involved with. dates in hidden spots and having to sneak around like this, choso having to watch his back at every turn, only calling or texting when he's got that tiny bit of free time in his packed schedule, on the run from everyone and everything.

he probably doesn't even hear you over the music, and will probably ignore you the way everyone else does. but choso turns to you then, just in time to exhale a slither of smoke from his lips, "it's just weed," he replies, raising an eyebrow at you in lieu of a challenge. and surprisingly, you persist.

"whatever, i wouldnt know, ive never touched weed. ever." and you're so proud of it too, there was no time or energy to get involved with such things. you were always so good, so reserved.

"would you like a hit?" he asks, smoke lingering around him. "c'mere, just once, it won't hurt a bit.." he doesn't wait for your response, pulling you into his lap with practiced ease instead, a tug on your legs and you're fitted against his hips like you belong there. loves the little surprised squeal that leaves your lips and the way your shorts ride up and stretch snugly around your ass, your hips, but choso glimpses at the knee socks fondly, they're the best part.

he reaches out for the rolled blunt before inhaling, eyeing your nervous expression all the while. your chest rising and falling with pupils blown wide as you take him in. he looks so sinful like this, bet he tastes like it too, with his half-lidded eyes and mussed-up hair. that scar across his face calling out for your fingers, for your gentle touch. “comfy?” he asks, and god, his voice is so deliciously low your thighs start clenching, a throbbing at your core making itself known when pressed so close to him. heartbeat so loud he can feel it thumping, oh you want him so bad, you want him and you'd do anything he’d ask. you know he feels it, a man like him must have had plenty of women in your position, a slight jab to the chest when wondering if you're just another one in a long line of escapades. how many more were lured by his offer.

"i don't even know how you do that," you chew on your lip, feeling like a loser that never did anything remotely exciting, all the experiences you've missed out on.

"i'll show you," choso brings the blunt up to his lips, taking a hit while keeping the smoke in. you shiver when he comes closer, lips hovering over yours, and then he kisses you. with a fragility, a tenderness, who knew choso was capable of such. at the first touch, he gently pries your lower lip open with his thumb, his tongue grazing and licking for a taste. slowly then, a puff of smoke flows into your mouth, your breaths sucking it down your throat and it burns a little, warm and green, definitely too strong for your liking, but he kisses you through it. white drifting from where you meet, pulling and swirling all around along with your gentle whines, keening, and pleading for more.

your lips fit so well together you think and hope he’s enjoying it as much, he’s your teacher after all, your only teacher, from this first kiss to every other chaste peck and languid drag thereafter.

“fuck..." you whisper when he pulls away, lips swollen and a line of spit bridging the space in between. choso chases for one more kiss, one more taste, even after you've parted. the music continues to play through the speakers and the lights stay dimmed, his apartment's small, and a little messy, but he's been occupied with thinking about you, wanting to get close, with no time for moving boxes and vacuuming.

but you wouldn't want to be anywhere else, it is this exact paradise of old worn out couches and a window overlooking the city, a stage for your belated coming-of-age rituals, smoking for the first time and it hadn't been bad or harmful, you weren't coughing up smoke and sputtering over the detriment of your health. only tasting just what makes him so addictive, so much so you wonder why you're still not up and running far, far away from this man.

"that was...nice..." you say, breathless, you can hear your teenage self gasping internally, appalled but so tempted and driven mad with excitement, with thrill. a younger you would be eating out of his hand in a second.

it was sexy and hot and so fucking exhilarating, what else would he make you do, how many more things could he show you, and if only the rest of tokyo could do anything about it, bearing witness to this tricky, undefined balancing act, watching just how eager, how willing you are to give in, to take the risk, to the ease with which he calls to you and you limp into his arms like lamb unknowingly being carried to a slaughterhouse.

he doesn't say anything then, speechless, mind empty except for thoughts of you, “wanna do it again?” he heaves, and you nod—eyes wide and lustful, longing. biting a moan back at his touch when he finally grabs at your bottom, rough hands against smooth, plump skin, your hair tied up, t-shirt bunching around your chest when he can't help himself, burrowing his nose there and sniffing in lungfuls of your scent like some wild animal, like he's been starved of it, feeling the cool press of the necklace he gave you, sitting nestled in your cleavage. you're so fucking pretty like this he thinks, and who is he in comparison, a terrible influence, tainting you with weed one day and the rest of his fucked up ways the next, kissing you like his life depends on it because it does, who is he to make you fall, he has no other choice, he needs it, he needs your lips more than you'd ever need a brute like him, would you ever forgive him— “yes, always yes,” you reply, you beg, all until the joint's at its end and then some.

[juicezone]

me: im gonna relax n have a fun day :)!

body: (that time of the month starts) my cat: not wanting to eat again

me: 8)

[guysshowingofftheirmuscles]

[wernerherzogs]

please never ever stop doing spec. I actually need you to do more if possible (god knows we all need the silliness 😭)

some ppl are like bucktommy endgame this bucktommy endgame that. like stop and live a little. open your eyes. EDDIETOMMY ENDGAME. it's time for everyone to admit ryan and lfjr have way better chemistry than ostark and lfjr. like oliver have pretty much admitted that himself. with the power of tim minear's eddie favoritism anything is possible!