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#JOHN RAMBO
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You know a characther is fucked up and traumatized when they are wearing one of these
Edit: half of this characther were put against my will
Edit 2: i reached the fucking tag limit
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atomic-chronoscaph · 6 months
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UHF (1989)
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issdisgrace · 5 months
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Can’t express enough how in love I am with 80s/90s Sylvester Stallone
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razberry-cookie · 1 month
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he's such a pretty man I swear
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zombieoffender · 4 months
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Dog OCs inspired by my favorite Stallone's characters? Yeah.
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Jude and Southpaw
Inspired by Rambo and Rocky themselves
May tweak their design later, whew.
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sorens2015 · 2 months
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time to fight...
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cuddles-with-dragons · 2 months
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There's a TV show with Rambo, Sheldon, Hawkeye, and Ellie from TLOU all together and it's called The Bad Batch.
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rambosgirl · 4 months
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Heyy so I have never done a request (so idk if this is how you do it ☠️☠️) but could you write a Rambo x Reader during first blood where he’s running from the cops and he sees a small cabin and the reader opens the door just wearing the cutest pajamas and has them doe eyes just looking like a little Sylvanian family bunny and takes care of him like stiches him up and feeds him… this was so long omg sorry. OFC IF YOU DONT WANT TO NO WORRIES!! Just thought I’d ask xx
ofc I actually really like writing requests, and I love this idea! hope you like it :D The dividers are by @saradika-graphics
ALSO, the suturing probably isn't the most accurate, I did research and used common sense but don't take it as absolute fact, I am not a doctor 0-0 (one true thing is you DO want to start in the middle of the wound when suturing, and she gives him interrupted sutures, which is one of the most durable)
Sanctuary in the Storm -
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The situation John found himself in was escalating. He was injured from the quarry/helicopter/jumping off a cliff into a tree incident from earlier that day. The cops had to back off for now, but John knew they would come again to hunt him down.
He needed a place to hide.
He was used to hiding in the Vietnamese jungle from his training and war, so really anywhere would do where he could stitch himself up. He wandered the forest for some time, the air getting colder and harsher against his skin with every passing minute.
There seemed to be no solid places to cover him. This forest wasn't as thick as the jungles he was used to. Just as he was about to settle for a small group of trees, he looked to the side and saw smoke.
He debated whether it was safe to follow it or not, eventually deciding it was better than nothing. If he really needed to, he could defend himself just fine, he thought as he started in the direction of the smoke.
Upon getting closer to his destination, he discovered the smoke was not from a fire, but from a chimney of a small cabin. It was a nice, peaceful area, less dense and more flat forest area with a small creek babbling through the land. If his situation were different, John thought, it would be nice to live in a place like this.
For now though, he just hoped that whoever this land belonged to was nice enough to let him in.
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You stood in your kitchen, dancing to your favorite music. You had the fire in the fireplace and had just put cookies in the oven. You were wearing your pajamas and ready to have a relaxing evening with your book, cozy blankets, and cookies.
Just as you sang the last lyric, you heard a knock sound in the room. You turned off your music and made your way to the front door, opening it hesitantly, revealing a large, disheveled-looking man looking at you with big brown eyes and a large knife at his side.
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When the door opened in front of John, the last thing he expected to see was a woman in the doorway looking up at him with bewilderment in her doe eyes. She was in her pajamas, with what he guessed was flour on her sleeves.
In any other circumstance, he would've thought more about her appearance and how peculiar it was, but he was actively bleeding.
He had covered his upper arm with a cloth to clot the blood, but it re-opened as time passed. The scrap of fabric could only do so much.
"Can I come in?"
Her eyes drifted to his covered injury, then back to his eyes before moving to the side to let him in
"Yes, yes of course," you started "What happened to you?"
He stayed silent for a moment, debating what to say.
"I got chased," he murmured. You looked at him, surprised.
"I can help you with that, it looks like it needs some care," you told him. He looked back at you for a moment before deciding to let you help with a subtle nod. Trusting others didn't come easy to him, not that he even trusted you yet, but he didn't see how refusing your help when you gave him a safe place would benefit him in any way. Plus, the blood was starting to drip down his arm.
With that settled, you led him to your sink to clean the wound to the best of your ability. With how far it was on his arm, you had to awkwardly the cup warm, soapy water with your hands to bring it up to it, trying not to spill on the floor. The cut was deeper than you thought. When that was done, you grabbed a clean towel and put pressure on the cleaned wound.
"It looks like it needs stitches," you noted, looking up at him for a response.
"I got a kit, jus' didn't have the time," came his soft reply. You nodded, then led him to your dining table, still holding tight to his injured arm. You sat down as he took said kit out of his pocket. In it was a bunch of survivalist supplies, including a needle and medical thread.
You threaded the needle, then took the towel off, and more blood began to flow. After a quick internal reminder to be brave, you positioned the needle in the center of the wound.
Throughout the whole process, he stayed still like a statue, not even flinching when you started another loop. You repeated the steps in your head: into the skin, to the other side, back again, then knotting it, then repeat again and again until you finished the last one.
You released a breath you didn't know you were holding when you finished knotting the last one.
"Thank you," John spoke in a low tone. He was more than capable of doing all this on his own, but it just felt nice having you do it. Having you care for him in a way very few people were willing to do.
"You're w-" the kitchen timer went off before you could finish your sentiment, startling you.
You walked over to your oven, checking the cookies. Noting they were done, you took them out and put two of them on two napkins. One for you, and one for your guest.
You turned back towards him, still sitting at the table.
"This is what you need to feel better," you remarked as you set them down. "We still need to bandage that," you added, gesturing to his arm.
He nodded, then hesitantly reached for the cookie while you started down the hall to get bandages from your first-aid kit.
You got back with the bandages and antiseptic ointment, immediately getting back to work on his arm, wrapping it not too loose, not too tight. He relaxed a bit but stayed on high alert. Picking up on this, you reassured him "You know, you don't have to be so tense," you said softly, "it's safe here." You tied off the last part of the bandage.
John watched you work, a mixture of gratitude and wariness in his eyes. "Not many places are," he replied quietly
You nodded. You got the feeling trust wasn't something he gave easily. "Well, if you need to rest or eat more, you're welcome to stay for a while."
He looked at you, a hint of something softer breaking through his hardened exterior. "Thanks," he said simply. He flexed his arm, testing the bandage. He thought about staying but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. If the police found him, he didn't want her to get caught up in that mess. The less she was involved, the less she had the chance to get hurt. "but I should leave."
"Are you sure? I heard there's a storm coming," you said. John confirmed his statement with a nod. You felt a bit dejected, but hopeful to see him again. "Okay."
He grabbed his survival kit from the table and made his way to the door. He turned to you, his eyes soft.
"Thank you," he whispered
"Take care of yourself," you replied softly.
You watched him disappear into the night, the door closing softly behind him. The cabin felt emptier without him, but you were glad to have helped, even for a brief moment. As you returned to your cozy setup by the fireplace, you couldn't help but hope that he found the peace he deserved, wherever his journey took him next.
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zoetheneko · 5 months
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Welcome neighbor :D 🇨🇦
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I've fallen into a young Sylvester Stallone rabbit hole...and I have no interest in getting out. Do not send help. I'm fine down here.
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hyperboreandad-82 · 6 months
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sonjackcarl · 1 year
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lemonsprite · 15 days
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𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 || 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐨 𝐱 𝐆𝐍! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞
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Summary: you’re always there to pull him from his thoughts
Word Count:
Warnings: mentions of war and fighting also NOT BETA READ (someone please be my beta reader lol)
A/N: Jojo stop posting fics from obscure/dead fandoms challenge impossible edition also idk why I’ve been posting so many x readers lately but Ty all for eating them up!! Mwah!! Xoxo
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John stared at the wall of your shared living room. He sat eerily still on your couch, slumped slightly as his gaze bore a hole into your shag carpet. Hell you’re pretty sure you haven’t seen him blink for the past five minutes.
You’d seen this look with John before. He was stuck in his own head, reliving moments from years ago. Mind lost in the jungles of Vietnam, hiding, killing, and surviving on what little he had while his body remained unmoving in front of your entertainment console.
“John…” you hummed quietly to make your presence known. Gently- as to not spook him like some wild animal- you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck and pressed your face against the crook where johns neck met his collarbone.
He flinched involuntarily, mind snapping back to reality as he registered your body against his.
In an instant, John relaxed, melting into your touch. He leaned back every so slightly to get more of your bare skin pressed against his, savouring the touch.
“What are you thinking about?” You murmured into his ear, already knowing the answer as you pressed a gentle kiss to his stubble covered jaw, one of your free hands coming up to gently trace his cheekbone, attempting to calm and reassure him.
John let out a slow exhale, his chest rising and falling with the deep breath. He took a moment to appreciate your touch, a brief piece of tranquility that came to him rarely in civilian life.
“…’Nam…” answered John, his voice a low rumble that resonated in his chest.
Johns words pulled at your heart, a frown threatening to form on your lips as you turned around to fully face him, intent on getting him out of his own head.
“How about we think about something else hm?” You asked quietly. “Like how much I care for you?”
John let out a small amused huff. There was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth like he was trying to suppress a smile.
“You’re always tryin’ to distract me.” He noted, leaning closer to you.
“Is it working?”
Johns eyes flickered down to where you sat in front of him.
“You know it is.” He grumbled, tone begrudging but not unkind. He shifted slightly where he sat, attempting to pull you into his lap as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
“Good.” You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek and curling up in his embrace, enjoying your partners close proximity.
‘Mission: successful.’ You hummed to yourself, content to stay where you were forever.
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razberry-cookie · 1 month
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fruity
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zombieoffender · 5 months
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some of my favorite mens from different favorite medias
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overlordraax · 2 months
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I love Rambo's intro's in MK11. He has no idea what's going on and half of them are him just trying to figure out the game's lore.
I love how it goes like:
D'Vorah: I'm a bug lady and I'm going to eat you. Rambo: Okay, I get that. Baraka: Raaar! I've got teeth and swords for arms. Rambo: Okay, I get that as well. Johnny Cage: Hey dude! Wanna make a movie together? Rambo: This place makes no goddamn sense.
Like, he could handle everything else, but a dude in sunglasses being all chill is his breaking point.
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