#let him be a badass

[alynnl]

So Phoenix Wright, attorney at law has broken down two doors in Justice for All, while Detective Gumshoe hasn’t broken down a single door on screen?

Gumshoe should get to do that, as a treat. Even better if he’s forcing open an elevator door to rescue Edgeworth and/or Kay.

[jameszmaguire]

I think it would be better for everyone if I were to be left alone in the future. Don't you?

[ineffableaddiction]

Can we reflect on what a badass Aziraphale is?

So many think our favorite angel needs rescuing, as if the Angel of the Eastern Gate, a Principality to boot, needs rescuing from anyone.

People mistake compassion for weakness, introspection for helplessness, love for… softness?

Aziraphale is a bloody warrior.

He gave away his flaming sword because he cared about humanity.

He stayed on Earth to protect humanity.

He loves a demon because he can see beyond labels, and looked at the being with an open mind.

He is willing to change and grow when faced with new facts.

He doesn’t believe in things just because he’s told to, and does question everything.

And he had his reasons for going back to Heaven. Those reasons don’t necessarily have to do with Crowley directly. He is fully capable of doing things for himself.

Love doesn’t make one weak. Compassion doesn’t make one soft. Introspection isn’t a sign of gullibility.

He may not be as dramatic and forthright with his actions, but his actions are his own. And they don’t all revolve around Crowley.

When you judge one’s actions solely based on the context of a relationship, you lessen their meaning.

Aziraphale is strong, and he is his own entity. Part of that strength is being able to love… his hereditary enemy, humanity, himself.

[iizuumi]

[mellosdrawings]

Cane user Azul part 2, because I spent too much time counting this one :

Did you know that Azul is seen seated or using his cane in at least 1/3 (a third) of his cards, which is much more than Jade and Floyd, or even Leona and Silver who are known to sleep a whole lot. Dunno if the illustrators/devs gave him a cane on purpose and just don't make it official for ~reasons~ but I like to think it's at least a bit on purpose.

(Some Groovy spoilers ahead, be careful)

[rayllurn]

[seagreenstardust]

Even just the fact that Katsuki point blank asks Izuku later “SOMETHING must have triggered black whip, what was it”???

Guys. Friends. Pals. You don’t choose to make the character who triggered the quirk ask the question (and not get an answer!!!) without a reason, this is textbook stuff, writing fictional characters 101. There is actual irony in Katsuki asking, in him not getting an answer, and most authors would introduce said irony only as foreshadowing, not as a random throwaway moment

[luna-loveboop]

For those who don't have Twilight Princess but would like to know:

The move Twilight performed while fighting Dink is called the helm splitter. It's one of the Hidden Skills that the Hero's Shade, aka Time (but as a skeleton oof) taught him

This move is often an instant kill. It is harder against Lizalfos, so the goal is to quickly turn around and deliver a slash. He lands with his back to the enemy- which made Dink grab him from behind (and bit Twi's arm ouch). But it's one of the most powerful moves Shade taught him- he practically ripped out Dink's shoulder.

One of the art screenshots is not Lu, but art Jojo did of shade teaching him to do it. (Can confirm it was terrifying- bro stopped the blade an inch from Twi's head- after telling him it's called the helm splitter)

[raccoon-crown]

I'm quite sure that Tails attitude can manage both things: Being intelligent and mature and innocent and act like a child.

Like yeah, everyone know mister Prower talent for crafting tech and his skills to actually make profit from it. But, not anyone would know that he does a happy dance whenever he reaches a goal or succeeds with an experiment, or how his tails wave and his face almost explode with enthusiasm every time he discovers something new.

People think him being a genius means he understands and can fix anything in the world, but almost no one knows how frustrated he is when he struggles with finding an answer and much less how scared he is from failing them.

The world focuses on the heroic traits and legends around the kit. While being of ignorance about his true nature.

How he smiles widely when he sees his brother after a long time, how he let out in a funny way his tongue while working, the sweet faces when he eats any mint candies or pastries, his little jiggles and his huge curiosity for a world he actually haven't discovered yet.

Yeah, Tails is a hero, a genius, an inventor, someone mature for his age.

But he is also a friend and a little brother.

He is also just a kid

[drulalovescas]

Remember when Castiel was in his bad bitch era?????

[grey-and-green]

“Out of his mouth go burning lamps, and sparks of fire leap out” Job 41:19

I wondered about this on my first watch through, and I’ve seen ongoing posts about “wtf does this mean, why is this so important?!” because…why is this bible verse highlighted so much, why are we being asked to take notice of this? Whyyy?

Now this is just my interpretation, and it’s not really something that’s likely to be addressed in S3 - we’d need Neil to confirm, but:

Gabriel still appears to be intact when he’s writing on the box, and the last thing we see him do in Heaven is take the fly out of the matchbox. So, we can guess, that the last thing he registers before he becomes Jim!Gabriel is this bible quote:

Out of his mouth go burning lamps, and sparks of fire leap out

And the last time he saw Aziraphale (well it was Crowley, but he doesn’t know that, obv), he looked like this:

I wouldn’t forget this face in a hurry.

So we’ve got panic, confusion, an elevator stopping on Earth with one very disoriented Archangel looking for somewhere safe to go, a lingering almost-memory of an angel with the power to breathe hellfire when his life with a demon he loves is under threat, and the last thing you see before you lose your memory is this bible verse.

I think it’s meant to show why Gabriel goes to Aziraphale’s bookshop for help.

Because why else go there? Why even go to London?

Because Gabriel was scared of Aziraphale last time they met, the matchbox reminded him of that, and I’d want that version of Aziraphale on my side if I was afraid of Heaven.

[virgil-anon]

tom deserves to be treated terribly by harry sometimes. too often it's only tom traumatizing harry LET HIM DO IT BACK AN EYE FOR AN EYE IDFK

[localguy2]

Not Zane going goblin mode in the background for a few seconds

[starleska]

Just a quick note, but it is making me laugh that "Le Mal" means "the Bad" and Maxime means The Greatest. So his name just means "The Greatest (of) The Evil. "

ah yes...my favourite notorious supervillain:

[kentocalls]

jiraiya | breadcrumbs nsfw. it’s a situationship but the good kind, i wanted to thank @actuallysaiyan for writing all those prompts. also the gif 🥵

he groans, crosses out the line that’s lived for only three seconds, the words dancing around his eyes, mocking him. he’s the renown author of the Icha Icha series. he can write, move his audience with his captivating comedy and well timed eruptions of emotions. but this, this piece of work is draining everything from him.

his cup is empty, his snacks gone. tense and frustrated he snaps his pen across the room. he could find something, someone to help take his mind off of it all. except he’s causes enough of a racket, his mission isn’t an easy one and he’s not exactly kept low key about his presence. it’s going to mean more paperwork and an earful from superiors and writing was supposed to help. the editor would be less person to yell at him. alas. the night is not in his favor.

the village is silent, most folks already asleep. he can hear cats fighting if he really tried but even then, his stares at the blank wall ahead. a flash of the prettiest lips fills his mind and he aches.

his mind trails after the confident, youthful, smart shinobi who had his knees gracing the ground with a simple ask. he doesn't know how it started, doesn't care where it goes, wants more. maybe there's enough clues if he looks for them, maybe his favorite has graced him with kindness and left a morsel.

enough is enough, he’s leaving tomorrow. the change of pace necessary, he has to keep moving. because who he’s seeking isn’t here and the mission is at a dead end too. t

he wind offers another pause from his thoughts, tempation, cool against his skin gentle, inviting. he closes his eyes, takes half a second to let his body relax, half a second to imagine it’s not the wind’s gentle caress but wait! he didn’t open the window, he wouldn’t this late and—

there’s your scent and something medicinal permeating the room.

you’ve always been fast. confidnet. slipping into unsavory places with ease.

making the most excellent shinobi and his worst habit.

by the time he’s done looking at the window your seated on his desk, writing pad in arms as your eyes trace over the latest pagse written. you’ve always loved spoilers, itching to know what happens before everyone else.

it makes him feel smug, after all these are fresh words, something exclusive only he can offer. gods, he’s missed your face, notes swollen lips and tired eyes, ignores the scratches near your chin. what you both do is dangerous, tedious, necessary. he won't ask because you can't tell. still the thought, did you rush over immedidately after a succes?

eyes rake your beautiful form spilling over his work desk.

your uniform has seen better days but he’s so so so pleased to see exposed skin. your legs look so smooth, nevermind new scratches and old scares greeting him.

he’s staring, gawking like an inexperienced brat, it would be embarrassing, you’d tease him endlessly for it, however, you’re so engrossed in his writing. swaying your legs softly, they dangle freely off the desk, and yet managing to cage him in. his palms reach up, kisses at a small cut on your knee, large palms soothing, fondling, massaging your thighs. itching to admire.

you’re here.

skin is hot, face is a bit flushed though you’re hiding it behind a stoic expression, eyes stealing more and more words. it’s not that long of a chapter, he sighs and pulls you closer, face nuzzling into your stomach, you can feel his kisses through your uniform. needy.

he’s usually wordy, jokey, loud. leaves no space for the outside world when it’s just you two, but right now he’s being such a good boy. you wonder how long it’ll last, the fact he’s being gentle and slow with his movements is trippy. especially when you know how tough he is, have seen him snap men in half so casually. flaunts his reputation, his height, his fame like he’s breathing but right now? letting you read unreleased, unedited writing?

letting you sit on his precious desk, your scent will drive him mad when you’re gone in the morning. he doesn’t have to be nice, could’ve easily stopped you from slipping into his room. taken you against the wall, you wouldn’t have protested. except he didn’t, he’s being the most gracious host.

that’s the only reason one of your hands plays with his long locks, eyes pulling away from his writing pad when your fingers, inevitably, tangle. “hair’s gotten too long.”

“to match yours.” he muffles, before leaning back and looking up almost innocent. like his hands aren’t squeezing and molding and clawing at your thighs. like his mouth isn’t kissing lower and lower, as if he isn’t inhaling that sweet scent that’s evaded him for months now.

you hum, spreading your legs wider, tilting your hips a little higher, his hands know what to do, moving to the waistband of your bottoms, “why’s this one so serious?”

“if you read the other two you’d see why.” he grins, a lazy hand drawing circles from your bellybutton down to your clothed sex and your hand snaps to his wrist with such power. “i like my uniform, i need it clean.” your glare sends shivers down his spine, you’d be mean for him if he asked right?

“and where are the other two?” he doesn’t want you to move, he doesn’t want to spend time playing writer and editor. he much rather gather more field experience, engaging in physical activities has always been his forte, he’s a hands on learner afterall.

crumbles the second your hand is patting at his cheek, pulling his hair and crashing your lips to his. it’s greedy, messy, hungry. you’ve been pent up too. the missions come one after the other and you’re such a high rank, all those secrets and no where to bury them — who knows the weight of all the pain you cary better than one of the legendary sannin?

it’s why you seek him out, over and over again

he doesn’t ask for more, doesn’t push and always pulls you close.

“i wanna…” he nips at your lips, stop distracting him, moves his hands under your top and up, squeezing, groping, pulling, “need too, ah, read the other two first.”

“you’ve worked hard enough,” finally your legs wrap around his hips, he lifts you up so easily, grips the back of your neck firmly, earning a moan, oh you need him, “let me take care of you.”

laying under him, he’s extra careful peeling your clothing off, aware your previous warning still hangs true. you’d take a kunai to his arm if he dirties another uniform. in another setting, he'd like that very much. but he's barely containing his urges, forces hands to work with extra patience, despite his pressing need making itself known. makes a haste of kissing, licking, biting, bruising what can be hidden. for both your eyes only.

you’re so pretty for him.

he tries to pace himself, tries not to get caught up in spite of all his reasoning to go slow he’s a frantic mess. hands clasping with yours, using one arm to hold both your arms above your head, you comply so easily, mouth open and wanton and how the fuck is he going to do all the things he wants to do if he can’t stop kissing you?

a hand snacks down your chest, pinching, fingernails lightly scratching before reaching your core and the gasp you make; drives him insane, let him be a little mean, a little rough, the sounds he makes deepening your need further. his own hips canting against your thigh and sheets.

part of him still doesn’t believe you’re here. that you're not an illusion. that he doesn’t need to wreck his brain and imagine the sounds slipping freely from your lips, that he can take you in with all his senses. have you falling apart in all the ways he knows you adore.

“pretty pretty thing…” he’s sucking and biting on your neck, sliding another finger in and the sloshing sounds cause your cheeks to burn. you want more, hips bucking up on their own, you want so much more but he’s breaking a rule.

“no ma-marks, jiraiya, don’t—“ silencing you with a heated kis, hand frees your arms, one to squeeze at your neck; it’s just enough pressure, how you like it; brain almost turning almost mush. but he’s pulls back, grins wide with a third finger in you now. you’re so wet, sounds absolutely filthy.

“let’s ruin ourselves for anyone else, yeah?” and fuck, he can’t say shit like that when you’re like this, body clenching around him. call it lust, call it longing, call it satisfaction whatever he has you chasing is where you want to go. the softest kiss on lips and he starts to trail down, praises and naughty things whipsered into your skin.

editing his draft can wait.

that’s not why you snuck in anyways.

[mildewewe]

[tsctir spoilers?] WAIT NOOOOO IM SO UPSET THE MANHWA DIDN'T INCLUDE THE COOL PART WHERE HAN YOOJIN WAS COOKING DINNER FOR THE ASSOCIATION HEADS WHILE THE CORRUPT GUYS WERE TIED UP ON HIS FLOOR NOOOOOOO LET MY MOM MOTHER IN COLORIZED VERSION PLEASEEEEEEEE