#alcatraz connection
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squirrelstothenuts · 1 year ago
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youmeansus · 2 years ago
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I HAD to make a gif out of it. Endless loop of Jigen running. You’re welcome.
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jigencaps · 1 year ago
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bestoflupiniiipoll · 9 months ago
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Best of Lupin III Poll
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zenigatacaps · 11 months ago
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princessbutler1316 · 2 years ago
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One more for the list
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Lupin praising and admiring his partner's abilities
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lpn3rd · 1 month ago
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Zenigata in Alcatraz Connection
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ctrl-lupin · 11 months ago
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Jigen has ass
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fangirlsovertoomanythings · 11 months ago
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Zenigata entering a cartel: no no you may continue on selling drugs, i'm here for lupin
The cartel absolutely ready to massacre him: what
Zenigata: yeah he sent me a calling card saying he'd steal your boss at exactly eleven today. i'll be here to catch him though
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outerspace-iiinnerspace · 7 months ago
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(context: this is the 2019 live action lupin iii movie)
haha nice callbacks
i KNOW its cause theyre conspiracy theories but couldn't you have referenced any of the like, good movies
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myscreencapalbums · 2 years ago
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Lupin III: Alcatraz Connection
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drabblesandimagines · 9 months ago
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Swipe Right
Leon Kennedy x female reader, commissioned piece Lots of dumb fluff ahead! Thanks so much to the lovely @porcelainseashore for commissioning me with the brief of Leon using a dating app! I've said it before and I'll say it again - please do go check out Porcelain's fics! x
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“So,” Leon places his elbows on the counter behind, leans back and flashes a winning smile, “how about dinner later?”
The auburn-haired woman waits for her coffee to finish dispensing before she shakes her head, lips pursed. “No, thank you, Agent Kennedy.”
“Oh.” He was sure they’d had some sort of connection. Their eyes had met across the office on more than one occasion, flirtatiously so – had he read it wrong? “You have plans already tonight?”
“Mm, something like that.” She smiles, politely, picking up her DSO-branded mug and heading out of the break room without so much as a glance back.
Leon shrugs it off – he’s good at that – and places his own mug under the spout, about to make his coffee selection when a familiar voice chirps over his shoulder.
“Have you ever thought of internet dating?”
He spins round, surprised. “Claire?”
“Hi.” She waves with a smile. “So, internet dating?”
Leon’s brow furrowed, about to ask why she was here, but from the visitor lanyard around her neck it was clear it was down to some sort of TerraSafe business, but why is she going on about internet dating?
Oh.
“Wait, did you hear…?”
“The dinner invite? Oh, yes.” She nods, crossing her arms. “Does that ever work?”
“Yes.”
Claire quirks an eyebrow.
“Okay, not recently.” He retorts, turning back around and pressing the button for his black coffee to start dispensing.
“Uh-huh…” She steps forward, turns to lean against the counter to look at him. “I’m telling you, Leon - internet dating. I finally convinced Chris to give it a go about six months back, and he seems pretty happy. Been seeing a nice girl for three months now – a florist.”
Leon shakes his head, watching the coffee dispense with feigned interest. “Surprised Redfield went for it. How the hell do you introduce anyone to what we’ve seen?” At least with women from work, he didn’t have to skirt around what the hell he does all day.
“Heard of keeping work and homelife separate?”
“And Chris manages that?”
“I mean, she knows what he’s shared with her, but he took it slow. It’s not like the government can keep everything secret these days – not with everyone having a smart phone.” Claire grimaces, remembering the videos of the Alcatraz attack popping up on social media on a live stream. It was taken down pretty quick, but still popped up occasionally. They can’t hide it forever.
“Anyway, enough about Chris’ love life, I’m trying to help yours. Have you tried it? There’s websites and apps…”
Leon recalls a week of medical leave – battered, bruised and laid out on the couch on high doses of meds, flipping through the cable channels and losing hours to a show about people falling in love over the internet, only for the person to be using a fake photo of an entirely different identity and being crushed when they met in person.
“Isn’t that where the catfish are?”
Claire rolls her eyes. “We won’t set your radius that large.”
He looks down, a little confused. “My… radius?”
Leon’s not present on social media, but that’s hardly a surprise with his work. Maybe, if things had been different, he would’ve trawled through it at some point – joined a group for graduates from the Police Academy of ’98, checked in, gone to some sort of graduating class reunion where they would’ve swapped stories from precincts over a lukewarm beer or two in a hall dressed up with balloons and streamers.
Come to think of it, he doesn’t really remember the names of anyone in his graduating class, though he’s not sure if that’s down to a certain amount of knocks to the head throughout his career getting to him. He could look them up – they’ll be in some sort of database somewhere that Hunnigan could help him locate, but what would he say?
“Me? Well, I had one day on the job – hell of a first day, actually – and then I was ‘recruited’ into military training, so technically not a cop anymore either.”
“Phone, please.” Claire has moved to sit down at one of the small tables in the kitchen, now holding out her hand expectantly. He finds himself joining her, mug of coffee in one hand and the other pulling out his cell from his suit jacket pocket. He hands it over because it’s Claire and he’s known her long enough now to know she’s not going to drop the subject so easily.
“Have you got any selfies on here?”
“Don’t think so. Why?”
“To put on your profile. Anything I shouldn’t see in your gallery?”
He shakes his head.
“Seriously, Leon?” She must’ve opened the app by the way she’s scrolling down on the screen. “These are all sunsets and photos of your motorcycle.”
“What should I be picking pictures of?”
“Oh, wait… Here’s one.” She turns the phone around. It’s him, grinning, next to a corpse of a zombiefied lion. “I repeat – seriously, Leon?”
“Ha, yeah.” He smiles in acknowledgement. “I was trying to get Hunnigan interested in fieldwork with the spectacular sights.” Claire turns the phone back around and the sound of a camera shutter clicks out of the speaker.
“Ooh, that’s a good candid – and no-one needs to know what you were looking at.”
“Look, it’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t know about all this…” He rubs the back of his head.
“It’s 30 days free. Just try it and if you still don’t like it by the end of the trial, you can delete it off your phone and I won’t bring it up again.”
He stalls, taking a long sip of his coffee as he thinks. Claire means well, after all and if Chris has had luck with it, considering what Leon knows he’s seen and lived through, what does he have to lose, really?
“Fine. 30 days.”
“Great! Now, let’s set up your profile…”
--
Claire had given him a tutorial – swipe left if you’re not interested on a profile, right if you are. If the person swipes right in return, it’ll set you up as a match and you can start a conversation – signaled by a small speech bubble icon appearing on the bottom right.
It wasn’t until that evening that Leon tried it out properly, sat on his couch, killing time before bed and begins to swipe through. It feels a little odd – he usually likes to get to know a person somewhat before offering out his dinner invite, but this is mostly on looks alone, with a tiny snippet of profile information – age, location, what they’re looking for.
He swipes right on a blonde, her profile full of photos from beach vacations or something, says she’s not too far away from him and is ‘looking to connect with someone deeply.’ A chat box pops up immediately and after a moment or two, three dots show Beauty – he’s not sure that’s her real name - is typing.
Hey, big boy. What’s bigger – your forearms or… An eggplant emoji?
Oh.
He hesitates over writing back a response. He can flirt with the best of them, but how is anyone meant to make a genuine connection over this app? Maybe he’s too old for this shit.
He puts his cell down by his side and switches on the television instead.
--
“So…” Claire drawls over his shoulder over three weeks later, tracked him down to his desk.
“So…” He mocks back with a tease, swinging around in his office chair.
“Any good dates recently?”
He laughs. “How do you even get that far?”
“You’ve not gone on one?”
“Not for lack of trying.” It’s true. After Beauty, he had struck up conversation with a few more genuine girls that seemed to be going well until he’d broached the idea of a date and they’d drop off the radar. “A couple seemed interested but then stopped replying. I got one date – she didn’t show up.”
“Oh, come on.” Claire leans against his desk. “That can’t be everyone. Let me see.” There’s the expectant hand again. He sighs, picks up his phone and opens the app before handing it over to her.
She sets to scrolling through new arrivals for him, before she pauses. “Well, this one looks sweet.”
“Claire, I appreciate your concern but I just don’t think this app is for me. I gave it a go, I swear.”
“I know, but you’ve got a few days left on the free trial at least - you won’t lose anything. Just take a look?”
He takes the phone back and looks at the screen – a cropped picture of you, it looks like, your friends’ arms around your shoulders, a big, genuine smile on your face. Not a pout or a smolder in a night club mirror.
“Aw, you’re smiling.”
“Fine.” He swipes, but the message bubble doesn’t pop up. That’s the one thing he doesn’t like about this app – you never know if the other one will swipe back.
“No match.”
“Give her a moment,” Claire elbows him, playfully. “Not everyone is scrolling for dates at work.”
“Hey-”
“Speaking of, I’ve got a meeting. See you!”
--
You throw yourself down on the bed, a little bit tipsy after an evening of drinking with your friends, and hold your phone dangerously above your face – you’ve been so close to giving yourself a black eye from the drop so many times but never learn – and open up that stupid app. Your friend had encouraged you to sign up to it after declaring you’d been in a pity party for long enough now after your last break-up and it was time to get back out there.
You scroll through the latest arrivals, swiping left as you go. Everyone internet dates now, you don’t know why you only seem to attract utter creeps on it. You’d been on a few dates, but they’d all been entirely awkward outside the safety of the chat box.
You pause on one new arrival, Leon, 41, the first photo in the set clearly a candid. He’s dressed in a suit – no tie. Businessman, you wonder? Amazingly hot and maybe the most shiniest hair you’ve ever seen.
You roll over onto your stomach and swipe right, smiling when a chat bubble appears.
--
Leon had just settled into bed for the night when his phone vibrated angrily on the bedside table. He threw a hand out, blindly, and looked at the screen, half expecting it to be an email from work or a message from Hunnigan.
It’s neither – a notification from the app.
Hi, Leon. Thanks for swiping. Can I ask something?
He frowns – a unique opener, but it could still go the way of the others, he reckons. He’s not a prude, per say, but he’s seen a lot more than he was intending to these past few weeks. He backs up and has a quick scroll through your profile, vaguely recognizing your face from when he’d swiped right earlier that day – the girl Claire had deemed sweet.
Hi – ask away.
A bubble appears with three dots within.
How do you get your hair that shiny?
Leon barks out a laugh - definitely refreshing.
I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re at that stage of our relationship yet where I’m comfortable sharing my beauty secrets.
Please? Mine is so dull.
He clicks on your profile again and onto the photos but can’t see why you’re worried about your hair. Truthfully, all he registers when he looks at the picture is that sweet, genuine smile.
Looks pretty good from what I can see.
The camera adds all the shine. Are you using a filter?
Trust me when I say I wouldn’t know how.
Don’t know about filters but using a dating app? That doesn’t gel.
My friend suggested I give this online dating thing a go, so here I am.
Well, you’ll have to thank your friend for me.
Leon hesitates a moment, before shrugging it off.
I’ll be sure to, especially as it’s got me talking to you.
Your scalp tingles, but it seems nothing to do with the alcohol consumed earlier.
Too cheesy? I told you I’m new to this, right?
Nah, you’re gouda.
Leon grins.
--
The conversation continues to flow over the next few days. You talk about work – he keeps it vague, works in the government, can be called away on business trips last minute – and you are equally elusive in your response of office work. Internet safety, he reckons, smart girl that you are. Hearing his phone ping with a notification has quickly become his favourite sound.
Nice day? Definitely. Picked up my motorcycle – it’s been in the shop a while. Dare I ask what happened? He hesitates. Chasing a bioterrorist down a highway is perhaps a little too much…
Hit by a truck. I wasn’t on it - obviously.
Jeez. Insurance not just buy you a new one? I can’t think how that’s salvageable.
It’s my favourite, I couldn’t give up on her. You ever been on a motorcycle?
Uh-uh. Too scared.
What of?
Falling off, mainly.
No danger of that if you ride tandem - just need to be sure to hold on real tight.
You bite your lip, mulling over a response, but Leon fills the gap.
And I’d look after you, of course. Make a nice first date, don’t you think?
First date? That’s more, like, third or even fourth date material.
There’s your chance, Kennedy – don’t mess it up.
Well, then we better get the first date out of the way.
You bite your lip as you type back a response. Is that your way of asking?
If it is?
If it is, then I’m free Friday...
Perfect.
--
Friday morning arrives and Leon’s at his desk, typing up a report when his phone chimes. Checking over his shoulder, he pulls it out of his pocket and smiles when he sees it’s a text from you. You’d exchanged numbers the other night, deciding it time to take communication off app ahead of meeting up.
Morning. Question?
Morning. Still after my shampoo secrets?
Yes… But not that. How am I meant to recognize you?
I thought that’d be easy – by how shiny my hair is, apparently.
It’ll be dark out, though.
Is this you trying to be subtle about asking for another photo?
No comment.
Leon locks his computer, the screensaver switching to today’s date and time on a black background. He swings his desk chair around, looks around again to make sure no-one’s on their way past, and opens the camera app. He flips the viewfinder around and tries out a couple of smiles before snapping a selfie – if Claire could see him now…
He sends it through.
Included the time and date and all. Happy?
No comment.
Well, how will I recognize you?
Easy. I’ll be the one coming up to you and saying, “Hi, Leon.” See you tonight x
Until then x
--
The two of you had decided to meet at a bistro – varied menu for all tastes, not too intimate, excellent wine, spirits and craft beer menu.
Leon is nervous as he stands to the side of the entrance – an emotion he hasn’t truly entertained since 1998. There had been no time for it when bioweapons and death were staring him down the face. But, tonight… Well, he’s out of his element on this one. Leon had only ever approached women through work and, yes, it was to varying degrees of success but they’d already seen him properly in person, heard his voice, aware of what he does. There was a horrible niggle at the back of his mind that the date who had stood him up a few weeks ago had caught sight of him and turned heel on the spot.
He looks down at this watch to see it’s bang on 7.30. He’d arrived ten minutes too early, but didn’t want to chance being late and showing up in a fluster. When he looks up, slipping a hand back into his pocket, a figure with a familiar face is walking towards him, greets him with an anxious smile and an awkward half-wave.
God, you’re adorable.
“Hi, Leon.” 
“Hi,” He smiles, one hand still in his pocket, the other hanging down by his side. He wonders if he should’ve gone in for the kiss on the cheek, but he’s missed his chance.
“Erm…” You wring your hands together. “You okay?”
“Great. You?”
Why does he feel as giddy as he did when he picked up his girlfriend for prom back at high school?
“I’m good. It’s nice to put a… voice to a face?” You laugh – light and airy - and Leon’s already desperate to hear it again.
“It really is. Er, shall we?” He gestures forward with his arm.
You nod. “Let’s.”
The conversation is stagnant at first, a sentence here or there as you peruse the drinks menu and move on to ordering starters and entrees. With a little liquid courage, though, the two of you soon slip into easy conversation.
It’s just after the appetizers are cleared when Leon realizes he’s completely and utterly smitten.
You don’t even know where the time has gone, but all of the sudden the two of you are the only diners left and it’s clear the wait staff are looking for you to leave so they can begin their nightly clean down.
He follows you out and onto the sidewalk, a few metres away from the bistro entrance, standing awkwardly opposite each other – mirroring the beginning of the evening.
“So, fancy a ride?”
You tilt your head at him curiously before you burst out into laughter and he grins, rubbing the back of his head, awkwardly, as he realizes the context.
“I mean, I brought my bike here. I can give you a ride home - on my bike.”
You smile. “Not on the first date, remember?”
“Of course.” He nods. “Sticking to your principles – I respect that. Well, can I call you a cab?”
“Oh, actually, I’m gonna walk. I live just in that building over there…” You point up to an apartment building about halfway up the next block.
“I could walk you across the street?” He cringes as he realizes maybe he’s coming on too heavy-handed. “I’m sorry, I promise I can take a hint-”
“No.” You cut across abruptly. “I mean, walking me home would be nice.”
You cross the road in silence, both wrapped up in your own thoughts. You wish you lived slightly further away so you’d have longer to work out what to say, how to end the night.
“So…” Leon begins the other side of the road, the entrance to your apartment block just ahead. He’s trying to keep calm and collected, but there’s just something about you that has made his heart race, his palms sweaty. Don’t fuck this up, Kennedy. “I had a really lovely evening.”
“Me too.” You smile back – and you mean it – but you can’t help but brace yourself. Is this the part where he says, yeah, he had a nice time, but he’d rather not do it again? It seems all too good to be true. He’s the same as he was on the phone, messages and photos.
“Great…” You take a deep breath at his pause, unconsciously clenching your fists, “..cos I was wondering how you felt about a second date?”
“You’re really desperate to get me on that motorcycle, huh?” You tease, instantly relaxing. “But, seriously, I’d like that, to see you again.”
“Is tomorrow too soon?”
“That depends what you have in mind.” You stop, suddenly – the apartment foyer to your left. “This is me.”
“Well, we’ve done dinner, shall we work backwards and have lunch next?”
You take a step closer. “And then breakfast?”
“Fourth could be a midnight feast?” He steps forward too, misjudging the distance and something hard brushes against your stomach. Leon’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh, wait, I…” He dips his hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out a travel-sized bottle of shampoo with a sheepish smile. “I meant to give you this at the end of dinner – my beauty secret.”
You yank him forward by his jacket collar and kiss him before you can even think properly about what you’re doing. You step up onto your tip toes to deepen the kiss, a hand bracing yourself against his chest for a moment before you mean to step back, maybe even apologise for pouncing on the man, but Leon’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place, kissing you back incessantly before you both have to retreat for breath.
“Well, if I knew the shampoo would get that reaction I would’ve started the night off with it.” He murmurs, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta ask though - you’ll kiss on the first date, but not ride a motorcycle?”
You shrug, half-heartedly. “One’s more dangerous than the other.”
He kisses you once more, softly, ending with a teasing nibble on your lip.
“Oh, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.” -- Masterlist . 1,000 followers event
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youmeansus · 1 year ago
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Don’t forget to feed Jigen today!
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jigencaps · 1 year ago
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bestoflupiniiipoll · 1 year ago
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Best of Lupin III Poll
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maybe-im-dark · 4 months ago
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Wolverine Wasn't Born to Be a weapon—He Was Born to Be a Protector
Here's Why:
Let’s get one thing straight: Wolverine (Logan) wasn’t born to be a weapon. He was forged into one. But at his core, Logan has always been about protecting those he loves, not just fighting for the sake of violence. And the X-Men movies prove it time and time again. Let me break it down:
1. His Origins Aren’t About Violence—They’re About Survival and Protection
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In X-Men Origins: Wolverine, we see young James Howlett (Logan) forced to defend himself after witnessing the death of his father. His claws first emerge out of sheer survival instinct, not out of a desire to harm. Even as a child, Logan’s instinct was to protect—first himself, and later, others.
2. His Connection to Rogue in X-Men (2000)
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When we first meet Logan in X-Men (2000), he’s a loner, but everything changes when he meets Rogue. Despite his rough exterior, he immediately takes on a protective role, shielding her from harm and even putting his own life at risk for her. This isn’t a man who craves violence—this is someone who cares deeply for the vulnerable and will do anything to keep them safe.
3. The Battle of Alcatraz in X-Men: The Last Stand (2006)
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During the Battle of Alcatraz, Logan doesn’t charge into the fight because he loves war—he does it because it’s the only way to protect his friends, especially Jean Grey. Even when Jean is consumed by the Dark Phoenix and is destroying everything around her, Logan is the one who pushes through, not to fight, but to save her from herself. His final act, putting her down, is one of mercy, driven by love, not violence.
4. The Wolverine (2013) Shows His Struggle With the Weapon He’s Become
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In The Wolverine, Logan’s struggle with the violence he’s capable of is laid bare. He isolates himself because he’s haunted by the destruction he’s caused. When he’s dragged back into conflict, it’s not because he wants to fight—it’s because he can’t stand by while innocents are in danger. His time in Japan shows that his true nature is to protect, even if it means facing his demons
5. The Ultimate Protector in Logan (2017)
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Logan (2017) is the ultimate testament to Wolverine’s true nature. The entire movie is about him protecting Laura (X-23) and the other young mutants, even when he’s physically and emotionally broken. Logan’s final stand isn’t about being the best soldier—it's about being the best protector. He sacrifices everything, not because he wants to die in battle, but because he wants to ensure the future of those who can’t protect themselves.
6. It’s Always Been About Love and Loyalty
Whether it’s his love for Jean, his loyalty to Professor X, or his protective instincts toward Rogue and Laura, Logan’s motivation has always been rooted in love, not in a thirst for violence. He’s fought in countless wars, been used and abused by countless people, but the one thing that remains constant is his unwillingness to let harm come to those he cares about.
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