#mordecai sharpe

[cyberb07]

🤩 They came! 😆 Meet Freckle and Mordecai! 🐈🐈‍⬛

They're plushies I bought to back the production of the animated series, of the webcomic series, Lackadaisy🌼~

😆 I'd say it's been a success, cuz they're set to get a 5 episode season! 👏 All the backers, for Christmas, they'll be getting what they bought to kickstart it~ As for the show, we don't know when that will come. Well, when it does, I'll have these two sweetie bois cuddled in my arms while I watch~

#it's my Christmas gift to me! #I'm so happy! #lol Kuzco quote #aren't they cute? #with their suits and bows and ties #gotta love sharp dressed men #and their tails!! #they look big and fluffy! #BTW I support creators i like by buying their merch #plushies especially #Lackadaisy #Freckle and Mordecai #Pardon my dust #I'm still moving into my apartment

[incorrect-everly-quotes]

Sam: Dad, I want to be a marine biologist.

Mort: Oh son, aren’t you bullied enough as it is?

#sam sharp #mordecai sharp #incorrect quotes

[lordofdestructionm]

Reading Mordecai Heller as a repressed gay man

The tragic attraction

This is a full post based on my response to a great analysis by @sedgewick-gayble

Let me start by saying that if you read Mordecai as being totally asexual/aromantic and any affection he has for other characters to be entirely platonic that is entirely valid and I respect that

However as this response by Tracy makes clear on the topic of fans reading Mordecai as gay there is an intentional ambiguity about it. Being 28 at the time of the main story his "lifestyle is certainly asexual" up to this point, yet "being ace and being gay are not mutually exclusive things" and people sometimes "don't know themselves or understand their own motivations all that well"

This leaves the possibility open that Mordecai is actively repressing his natural desires and feelings

Mordecai's early life didn't exactly provide much time or opportunity for "self discovery", even by the usual standards of the less than tolerant and understanding world of the early 20th century

Being born into an impoverished family and having his father die very early in his life leaving him and his Mother and two younger sisters in dire straits, Mordecai had to get to work and assume adult responsibilities pretty damn early.

As Tracy says "selling newspapers wasn't going to cut it" and so using his natural talent with numbers Mordecai starts bookkeeping for the mob. Is it any wonder someone with that background would develop such a serious and rigidly buttoned up demeanour?

Since being forced to abandon his mother and two sisters at the start of the 1920s and flee New York, being picked up by Atlas's due to his habit of collecting useful strays, Mordecai had very few people he was close to in St Louis. With his generally anti-social personality and not only lack of interest but discomfort with any sort of flirting or romantic entanglements, that would be unlikely to change

Side note: Probaby coincidence but

There are only two people who seem to make it onto that exclusive list of people that "count" for Mordecai, who he cares about and are able to bring things to the surface he would normally keep hidden

Atlas to Mordecai is not just an employer, he is the man who saved his life, the man who moulded a desperate fearful shabby young stray into the sharp professional he is today, who took him under his wing and made him his protege. Filling the empty space his father left in his life. His grief and desperate hunt for those responsible for his death are his big motivation (the strain of which is slowly tearing him apart)

That connection is undertsandable

Much more surprising on the surface is the bond with the partner Atlas teamed him up with soon after his arrival, Viktor Vasko.

The assumption at the start would have been that while their skill sets might compliment each other in the field there would have been no warmth in their dynamic.

Certainly not on Mordecai's part as Viktor appears to be a sum total of many things Mordecai hates. Viktor is unshaven, relatively casual in his attire, speaks a broken English, and hates people chattering or “noise, noise, noise” as he calls it. Clashing hard with his obsession with good grooming, high quality tailoring, correct grammar etc. Indeed Mordecai doesn't hesitate to nag/criticize Viktor for these things

Yet at the same time Mordecai has far better chemistry with Viktor than with anyone else, able to banter and bicker with him in a way you rarely if ever see with others

Its why when he gets tailored clothes for the first time Viktor is the first person he wants to show off too. Its why the one time he is intoxicated Viktor (and his large physique) are his chosen topic of converation. Its why at Christmas/Hanuhhah he gives him the gift of a tie while claiming its just because of the big guys poor fashion sense and that its "embarassing to be seen with him" (even that justification makes him sound like a nagging girlfriend)

A smaller detail is that during their iconic chess playing in the side content, set during their days staking out the remote town of Defiance, Viktor is shown very casually winning the game much to Mordecai's visible distress

This is hilarious but could also be taken as a metaphor for Viktor (possibly without even realizing it) breaking through his defensive emotional barriers

Something Mordecai doesn't know how to handle or respond to

The animated short only adds fuel to the fire

During their dispute over strategy Mordecai moves his face so close to Viktors that he almost knocks his cap off his head. His eyes at one point even dart down towards his mouth

Sharp eyed Vikdecai fans have also noted that Mordecai seems on some level to want the two of them to match

The tie being the same colour could simpy be Mordecai giving Viktor one of his own ties because its a joke gift and he just grabbed it on a whim to tease Viktor about his poor fashion choices

But think about the matching suits at the New Years party for 1926

I mean, seriously, not only is it the exact same style of suit in the same blue-grey colour distinct from everyone else, but they are standing in the perfect spots to be symmetrical to each other. Something that we all know means a lot to this compulsive man

Mordecai must have known there was going to be a big group photo ahead of time and then carefully planned this

Got matching suits made to his and Viktors measurements

Then most impressively convinced/nagged Viktor into cooperating (he may have taken off the tie and rolled up the sleeves but hey him playing along at all is quite a compromise from Viktor "I hate dressing up" Vasko)

Mordecai is intent on making Viktor retire and get out of danger, and avoid a situation where he gets sent to kill him by Marigold because he knows he could NOT do it, and his cover and investigation into Atlas's death would be over

He is horrified that Viktor is still working at Lackadaisy (though he again has to hide how much he cares) and that he has gotten not only hurt again but hurt by Mordecai again (albeit this time indirectly by stealing the guns)

Can this be read as simply platonic comradere? Absolutely

But there is something so *intense* in the fact he was willing to resort to kneecapping him. Its an extreme and desperate act that could only result from intense emotions, seemingly out of character for someone who tries very hard to appear logical and controlled.

While Vikdecai is a very fun ship when imagining them as an actual bickering married couple, I have often said that a tragic one-sided on Mordecai's part version of Vikdecai is the one that fits closest and surprisingly well into the canon.

His nagging and complaining about Viktor in that context take on a Tsundere aspect, both to protect himself from being found out and maybe even try and convince himself the uncomfortable alien feelings aren't there. He not only doesn't want others looking too hard at his feeling he doesn't want to examine them himself all that much

There is a heartbreaking but appealing angst to the idea of this extremely repressed man having such feelings for the first time in his life for his straight best friend and NOT knowing how to handle that. Having to perform the balancing act of being around him so much as his partner but being painfully aware that he can't let anyone catch on, especially not Viktor himself, as it would likely destroy his bond with the only person in town other than Atlas he is close to.

Though tragically he did that anyway later via the kneecapping, which while about trying to keep Viktor safe, he may now looking back try and tell himself its actually somehow "better" for Viktor to hate him for that

Because the big guy now wrongly thinks the feeling is mutual and that Mordecai never really cared about him, which may be better than (what Mordecai assumes would be) disgust at his partners doomed more than platonic feelings

Because he sees those feelings and his situation as a sad perfectly structured joke life has played on him

#lackadaisy #tracy j butler #lackadaisycats #mordecai heller #viktor vasko #vikdecai #repressed #gay #asexual #ace #comic #pilot #cats #gangsters #one sided love #one sided crush #one sided attraction #internalized homophobia

[lackadaisycats]

i would love to ask(if you're comfortable enough, if not please ignore this) if the trans vers of your cat people retain their original hair(guys dont have any/indistinct like rocky, girls do like ivy, mitzi etc.) or they look like the gender they aligned with, or is it fully up to the characters' views themselves?

I get why the presence of hair on female presenting characters creates a sort of troublesome binary. It's not really my intention to treat it as necessarily connected to sex or gender, though. It's really more about how I choose to depict the hairstyle types themselves.

My priorities are creating distinct silhouettes that I feel match the personality of the character, and capturing something of that Jazz Age look. It just happens that hairstyles more typically worn by women at the time tend to be the more iconic, immediately recognizable styles. To answer your question more directly, though... If I were drawing a trans woman who I imagined would wear an Art Deco finger waved bob, then I would draw her with hair much the same way I draw Mitzi. If I were drawing a trans man with a shorter cut, slicked back hair, or an undercut, I'd draw him with the same forehead tuft + cheek-fur approach I draw for characters like Wes, Rocky, or Zib. If I were drawing a cis woman who I imagined with a sort of crew cut, I'd focus more on giving her a distinct head and cheek-fur shape than on trying to draw really, really short hair around her ears. And so forth. ----------- Here's a bit about my thought process for these design choices: Does the character wear their hair somewhat long? Shoulder-length, a bob, something with some notable exterior dimension that really affects the character silhouette? Something that screams '1920s'? If yes, then I'll probably draw them with actual hair. On the other hand, if I imagine the character to be someone who'd wear their hair quite short and closer to the scalp, I'll usually take a more abstract approach. I find drawing really short haircuts on animal-like heads with big ears to be pretty awkward - I never struck on a more literal design solution for that that I was happy with. It doesn't augment the character's silhouette the same way a longer or more dimensional hairstyle does, so I try to define a distinctive shape with extended fur instead, in a way that might imply something about their character corollary to the way a hairstyle might (i.e. Freckle's tiger tufts and Mordecai's sharp angles).

I hope that makes some sense! Or at least clarifies my intentions somewhat.

#lackdaisy #lackadaisycats #character design #q&a #hairstyles

[pomegranate-pen]

Hello! May I request More exam x gender neutral reader? Who's his roommate and usually helps him if he's wounded when he comes home? The j you for your time!

A/n: ahh this was quite fun to write! Mordecai is my second favorite character in Lackadaisy, so writing this wasn't much of a struggle heh. though I must warn you all, I wrote this based on his personality in the comics, since they're much much fleshed out there than in the pilot (though that's not really any problem, it's a pilot after all. it had to sell the main story first then character lore, which they did drop hints of here and there in it!!) anyway- hope you all enjoy this!

Mordecai Heller x gn! reader

title: It's a date.

warning: mentions of blood and a small hint to a huge fight- jealous Mordecai lol, and obviously heavy spoilers for the comic

----

It was not unusual to be alone here, in this small tidied-up house that steeps closer to the forest than the city.

Though sure, one could say that all the fun in having a roommate is having the house not be so quiet, you’d argue that noisy roommates were always seen as a complaint at the end of the day, no matter how fun it was at first. Or at least, that’s the excuse you give your friends and co-workers when asked about your peculiar roommate, Mordecai Heller.

Not much of a talker, and certainly not much of a loud noise-loving type of guy, Mordecai can either be seen as an annoying bossy roommate, who has an obsession for cleanliness and tidiness alike, or a weirdo who barely ever is in the house and comes back home with a bloody axe yet a sharp and clean suit. For anyone else, this, and many other things, would be the warning sign, the flags that’d beg them to leave.

However, if asked you on what living with Mordecai is like, you’d merely shrug and summarize it on a much more positive note than others would, and add that sure, following those set of rules and chores he has for the house, with his idea of perfectionism in everything can be quite an annoyance at times, the worst nights aren’t that, the worst ones are the times when he does come home soaked in blood, body cut and stabbed at and his stubborn behavior toward it all when confronted about them.

The thought which, brings you back to reality, as you finally remember what your main goal here is in the first place.

“And for what is the purpose of your gawking?”

The stern, cold, and proper voice of your patient at the moment makes your brows furrow, as you click your tongue and grab the cloth, washing the small, yet sharp gash off his back, thankfully not deep enough to cause any infection of sorts, yet seeing the deep pure red of the blood shine through his normal dull-colored body made you hiss, unable to not feel horrible when seeing him like this. Especially when his favorite white cloth in the kitchen had to be used for this and most likely disposed of after, and his face looked frustrated with the turn of events. That critical face of his made you even more irritated than before.

 Mordecai was not the type of guy who’d come home like this, not one to open the door to the house and drop dead on the floor from exhaustion. Something has happened, something is wrong and he won’t tell you a word about it. Typical; but also infuriating this time.

 If this was a usual day, you’d see him not answering your questions or telling you about some worrisome parts of his job the norm. After all, the relationship between you two, no matter how much it had grown over the years, has still strictly started as professional.

It was a deal struck between you two, the landlord of the house was always quite suspicious of the man, and wouldn’t give him the place unless he found a suitable roommate, Mordecai tried to suggest his friend Viktor, which the landlord immediately denied, becoming a bit too afraid at the power the two duos could have over him if maddened enough. Mordecai spoke to Atlas about it and Atlas spoke to Mitzi. And she, always the fan of teasing Heller, has suggested you help. Newcomer to St. Louis, a pianist, and in need of a good home after your last one was littered with the loudest neighbors you’ve ever met. Mordecai was displeased with the idea at first, but given how the house was a perfect fit for the job he had, he had no choice but to accept.  

Rules were set, boundaries were given. The relationship has always had a professional and begrudging beginning, since you for one didn’t want to be roommate with him either, being baffled by the idea of living with the guy who could stand in front of a mass of corpses yet care for his lost cufflinks more. Yet, you didn’t have the heart to say no to Mitzi at the time, since she was the one who found you doing a gig in an old dirty nightclub and was generous enough to give you a job here. Your reason makes you feel bitter now, given how easily you left when everything started to crumble.

 “I’m not gawking.” You grumbled. “ I’m just shocked. That’s all.” You spoke, as you pointed to the torn to bits coat dripping with what smelled like gasoline. “where were you?! was it some psycho circus?” you scoffed. “ I’ve never seen you this messy since-“

He flinched in his seat, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were putting too much pressure or the amount of embarrassment he felt from that day.“Don’t, bring that up.”

“And it wasn’t a circus, mind you.” he surprisingly answered, most likely to run away from the latter subject. “My partners decided to make a simple task into an outnumbered fight. It was impossible to not get injured.”

“Partners?” you wanted to ask more, given how this is probably the only time he’ll share the details of his job in Marigold. “you mean those two cats that drove you here last night?”

He nods as he lifts his arm, letting you pass the roll of bandage through the front and behind his shoulders. You hum, shocked by this new information, given that, “You know, they visited me at my job today.”

To that sentence, Mordecai seemed to have startled. Turning around you and looking at you with widened eyes. “Seriously?” his brows shift in concern. “You’re certain it was them?”

“I mean, they did approach me.” you shrugged and added,” suddenly started flirting with me too. It was weird, but kinda cute.” They were pleasant to speak to, in their own way. There was this sort of charm they had, a strange trance that made you easily speak to them, though being cautious enough to not spill anything about Mordecai’s life while doing so.

Mordecai’s brows even furrowed more, yet he turned back around to let you finish the task at hand. Moving on to the next scar as he spoke. “That explains their behavior tonight. ow-” He then hissed a bit in pain, and you mumbled out a sorry. “I didn’t expect them to ask what your ‘type’ exactly is. “He grumbled. “It has distracted me much throughout the fight.” He seemed quite annoyed by it all, his expression being just like the times when he sees a vermin trying to crawl through your windows. “And why on earth would they flirt with you?” he grimaced, and his nose scrunched. “Why would they find the need for such an act?!” this, was the Mordecai you knew. It was the same Mordecai that Viktor and you have grown so accustomed to. The cat who likes order and is strict about attire and presentation, since he believes it’s a mirror to one’s personality, the guy who has debates about different books you’ve both read, a man known for his lack of understanding of social situations, something that he always goes to you for help about it, or just to rant about the ‘absurd’ situation he was put in. this was your roommate, and perhaps that’s why you haven’t left him. Even after Atlas’ death.

“Maybe because I’m gorgeous,” you joked. “Have you ever thought of that as a reason?”  

He went quiet in response, and you gave a fake gasp of distraught.

“Mordecai Heller, do you think I’m ugly?”

As the roll of bandages was now cut, he turned around to you as you sat down on the bench near him. “No,” he replied, yet there was a conflicted frown on his face. “ I have no thoughts on your appearance. I don’t care much for it….though…I…” he seemed to be in thought, as if he didn’t know his own feelings or opinions on the subject either. “…I don’t like this.”

“You don’t like…what exactly?”

He shifted at that, his gaze still deep in frustrated thought as he sighed and looked up at you with stern eyes. “Why so many questions?” he tries to stir the conversation away. “I don’t see why you’d be so interested in them.”

“Well, you might not, but as someone who‘ll go on a date with Mr.Savoy soon—“

“NICO?!”

You held back your snort as you leaned into the chair, looking back at him with a teasing smile. “Well, to be fair it’s on trial for now.” You shrugged. “But he seemed quite the charmer, pretty handsome too so— why not?”

Mordecai became silent, and you wondered what you’d done wrong to not have him ramble on about why a date with him is preposterous instead. Living with Mordecai for so long has made you learn how he truly feels by just his posture or movements. And of now, with the still, almost like a statue form and furrowed brows, with his green eyes staring intensely at you, you knew something was up. Something did happen, a situation that is much more likely involved with the Savoy siblings.

After an uncomfortable few minutes of silence, he finally speaks. “Well, I wish you luck on the date.” He clears his throat.” But….” He looks away, but from his voice and years of experience, you knew he was concerned, and his eyes though gazing away from yours are full of subtle worry. “I advise you to not associate with them for long.”

You take a breath, shifting in your seat a bit and straightening your posture, looking at him questioningly. “And I shouldn’t because?...”

“They’re dangerous.” Says the guy who has the same job as them. Your eyes squinted a bit as judgment and he rolled his. “I mean personality-wise.” He continued. “And in any case, you’re not much of a good fit with Nico….” His arms crossed and he muttered. “You’re certainly better than that.”

The words make you smile a bit, some tensity of the situation now slipping away. “Alright then, I’ll decline him…If…”

He gave you an annoyed frown, eyes showing a complete grimace over letting you add a deal with this. He sighed. “Yes, yes I’ll do your dishes for a week-“

“No. that’s not my deal.” You cut him off, and he looked at you with shock.

“Then what do you want?”

“A date.” You answered. “With you.”

“…”

Silence seemed to be your answer. He looked baffled, yet a bit endeared, his form jolted a bit when he caught you staring and awaiting his answer. He looked flustered and hesitant as he spoke once more. “I don’t see why you’d want that.” He nearly mumbled.” Dates— are for people who’d like to see each other every day, but due to some circumstances cant— so they pick up a time to do so.” He clasped his hands together. “You and I, however, are roommates.” He tilts his head a bit forward. “Though I must admit I do enjoy your company, I already see it every day, so then— what would be the goal of this date?” he gives you a confused look. “It would be pointless and an annoyance given how two should be in a crowded, extremely social place for dates.”

You nod a bit, and start sitting a bit more comfortably in your chair and start to debate. “Well then, I’d have to disagree.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Well, to start off,” you looked at him with a small smirk. “Dates— are not just for people who can’t see each other every day. If that is the case then why do married people still go on dates in this day and age? Dates can also be seen as a change of atmosphere— and though I enjoy your company as well.” You nod your head. “ I’m a bit tired of this routine I’ve trapped myself in, day in and day out I just work and come back home— surely you’re tired of your work as well- given your state at the moment.”

He huffs and tilts his glasses back. “I suppose I am.”

You gave a grin. “And third of all—“you lean back on your hand. “There’s no need for it to be someplace crowded— you just think it must be social because you’ve only seen it in such places. We can go somewhere quiet, so how about a library?”

He pauses for a moment before answering. “Library sounds nice.”

“So it’s a date?”

He hums for a moment. “It’s a date…if…”

You scoffed. “Well played. What’s the catch?”

Mordecai gives you a small smile. He gives a glance at the bandages on his back. “It’s settled if I can acquire your assistance with wounds next time as well.”

“Fine then. That is if you do get injured. Tonight was a rare one.”

For a moment in his thoughts, Mordecai considered if he should get injured up a bit more again. “It’s a date then.” He concludes.

“It’s a date.”

-----

A/n: BTW the 'that' day line is basically a hint to the canon day in the comics where Mordecai gets drunk for the first time and just acts straight out of character and starts praising Viktor a lot and talking about him happily to others mdfenkgt

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy x reader #mordecai heller #mordecai heller x reader #mordecai x reader #lackadaisy mordecai #lackadaisy mordecai x reader #lackadaisy mordecai heller x reader #x reader #reader insert

[a-libra-writes]

Op...can you do a romantic headcanon for Mordecai from Lackadaisy please ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

Yes indeedy ♣️

Reader is GN, pardon the length haha, it got away from me... like ...really got away ............................

I will preface that this would be a ... very slow burn, we're talking the flame is barely there for a long time because that's just how Mordecai Is About Feelings. No, never mind feelings - the trust has to come first, and that's difficult for him. It'll take years, really. You might have an easier time of it if you had a similar upbringing, if you're also Jewish - but that's just slightly easier, and it's not as though he's opening up about himself. It's mostly you talking and being vulnerable first, then he'll begin to volunteer (little bits of) information once he trusts you.

How can you tell he's trusting you? At that point, you've been around him long enough to pick up on Mordecai's mannerisms. He's not as stiff around you, he isn't watching you like you might turn on him, he's calmer and actually talks. You start to pick up what certain glances or gestures mean, when he's relaxed and when someone makes him suspicious. To outsiders, it may seem like you both only tolerate each other.

In fact, you two have something of a secret language with certain looks, gestures, body language and so on. It's especially handy in a gunfight or when you're trying to communicate something across a room. It sort of just came about after years of relying on and trusting each other.

Now, onto the feelings. Mordecai literally blames the feelings on everything but what they are. Was he becoming suspicious of you? No, he trusted you - even if he couldn't say it out loud, he did - perhaps it was a sickness, then? It only alleviated when he was away from you for a long time, but then another awful feeling would replace it, and that only alleviated when you were back. He will pathologize and overthink for literal months (or LONGER if you're a man) before finally conceding that maybe, maybe ... ... it's a crush.

Horrifying. He wants to throw up. Only the thought of the mess he'd have to clean up is keeping him from doing so.

(And obviously he never, ever wants to tell you and figures if he buries it down deep enough it'll just go away)

To anyone at Lackadaisy whose familiar with him, they may notice that he allows you to touch him. It's nothing big at first, and to be fair, he reacted strongly the first few times. You might clean some lint of his coat that he insisted wasn't there, you gently nudge him away from an awkward situation, you softly nudge him and tilt your head to a person you're suspicious of. The first prolonged touch was when you two were utterly exhausted after a run and just leaned against each other in the car, too tired and hurt to move for a while. He didn't say it, but that was probably the closest he'd been to someone in a very, very long time. It almost felt intimate. Thinking back to it made his hair stand on edge for a few days... or a week.

Those who know him may also notice how unusually irritated he gets with men or women "presuming too much" and being too cozy with you. If you're really uncomfortable with the flirting, he'll just outright stand in front of you and dismiss the person with a sharp, green-eyed glare. Mordecai didn't notice he was doing it until Mitzi pointed it out, and he had plenty of excuses ready. Once you both have an "understanding", he's even less tolerant of other people invading your space and being too forward - quite interesting, considering if someone is coming onto him, he's far less aggressive and far more awkward about it.

A lot of being with Mordecai is having to accept that sometimes, you won't hear what you want. Sometimes you have to pay attention to his actions and intentions. Sometimes you won't have a clear idea what he means or wants at all, at least not for a while. Mordecai is aware of his flaws, very aware. More than once he has thought that he isn't deserving of your feelings or the things you do for him.

(you are one of the few people in this cold world who gets the rare Mordecai Approving Smile, but don't say anything! just enjoy! It'll be gone as quick as it came)

The sort of things you do that give him butterflies are as follows: Taking his glasses off the desk, cleaning them and putting them back beside him. Getting into a debate or a discussion-that-turns-into-a-debate, you two getting more and more heated until your faces are two inches apart and you're shoulder-to-shoulder because you're both so invested in the topic. When you're both in close quarters, and your tail or ears accidentally brush against his. When you gesture at something symmetrical with a little smirk on your face. When you bring him warm food while he's working at his desk, something filling and just the right temperature. When you both enter a suspicious place, guns drawn, and you go ahead but glance back with an expression that says with absolute certainty, I trust you.

If you're in physical distress or danger, Mordecai can fix that. He can jump to action and shoot and kill whatever is doing this, and he's confident in that. If it's something emotional, that's the rub, isn't it? He can linger close, he can bring you blankets and food, he can keep others from bothering you, but what else can he do? What can he say? He wasn't good at these kinds of words.

It's these times when he'll touch you first. It'll be a hand on your back after sitting next to you for a long time, listening to you talk about what upset you. If you're in danger, he'll yank you by the arm to safety. He'll sigh, take your hands and show you how to properly hold your gun because why do you keep doing it that way you're going to give him grey hairs this is the best way to handle the recoilsdjsjfjd--

It's not his choice of expressing affection, that's for sure, but that's okay. More often, he finds himself drawn to things that both interest you and could be useful to you. He'll stop by your place with ingredients for a dish you love, he'll "come across" a new coat in your size because your old one got bullet holes. You'll find your guns cleaned and your ammo replenished, you'll notice your apartment has been tidied and dusted. He really appreciates it when you keep your space clean, or at least temporarily for his sake. The first time he was in your apartment for dinner, a spider crawled on him and he FLIPPED. A chair may have been broken. You just took it outside in a cup and continued on like nothing weird happened, even when he insisted on washing the cup like four times.

Also, sometimes Mordecai will associate things so strongly with you that he can't separate them in his mind - a scent, a specific color, a flower, a book, and so on. He might find something that's one or more of those things and keep it with him. Because. Just because. No other reason.

And again! It's so difficult for him to just say and express his feelings for you. It's more likely the two of you will just fall into a sort of odd are-they-or-aren't-they unspoken "understanding", especially if you don't express your feelings and just wait on him. You'll have to make the first step in that direction. Someone would have to torture him to get any serious information about you, especially his feelings. If someone untrustworthy comes asking about you and him, someone prying for a weakness - it's easy for Mordecai to brush off. He can act aloof, or better, callous. He'll say it right in front of you, if that's what keeps you safe. He'll say you're nothing to protect you.

For once, the words come easily, but it's the action he can't do.

It's agonizing the whole time he does it, like dying over and over. Getting beaten and shot was easier than this. Mordecai wants to see you as soon as it's over, even if he has no idea what to say anymore... If you even to see him again. Perhaps he should've expected this is how things would end. You knew what this kind of life would lead to, didn't you? He did. He thought he did.

#This was so enjoyable thank u anon #im so sorry for the ending sdJFDSJFS #i hope i captured him well bc hes such a very very interesting character! #mordecai heller x reader #lackadaisy x reader

[vaulthunterlands]

FAVORITE DRINKS OF THE VAULT HUNTERS

ROLAND doesn't drink much, but he'll drink a beer of some sort on rare occasions

MORDECAI canonically doesn't drink anymore as far as I remember, but he also canonically loved Rakk Ale. I'd say that and probably either whiskey or tequila.

BRICK also doesn't drink very often. He CAN drink, yes, but he likes to be in control. Likes the occasional beverage, like Roland, on special occasions. Likes sweet drinks.

LILITH also loves sweet drinks. Absolutely a fan of cosmopolitans.

AXTON likes to drink. A lot. Absolutely can't handle more than a few, but this man will drink anything. Prefers hard seltzer though.

MAYA is a Moscow Mule enthusiast when she does have a drink. Somehow always has a lime on her.

SALVADOR is, like Axton, a drinker at parties. Loves beer and tequila. Very picky about selection.

ZER0 doesn't drink. Sometimes they'll pour a beer out onto their helmet. *disclaimer I saw this concept in one of @sufroyo 's posts and inspired me to make this list lmao*

GAIGE canonically loves margaritas (and also can't handle them ily baby)

KRIEG doesn't drink a lot, but when he does, he's right alongside Axton and Sal. Likes Maya's mules and beer.

ATHENA tends to avoid drinking to keep her mind sharp, but when she's home with Janey? Wine girl. Just a glass. Or two. She's tired, guys...

CL4P-TP is a fiend when it comes to alcohol. Not because he's ever tasted it--because if he even gets a splash of alcohol on him, he acts drunk. Naturally, this gets on EVERYONE'S nerves.

WILHELM is a simple man. Beer.

NISHA is heavy into those "cask strength" bourbons. She likes her bourbon.

TIMOTHY is also a wine man. He's definitely tried other drinks but he absolutely cannot stand being drunk (metaphorically and literally).

AURELIA is, to no one's surprise, an absolute snob when it comes to alcohol. Expensive wine, expensive whiskey, sneers at people who don't spend three digits minimum. What is wrong with you girl

FL4K doesn't drink. Sometimes they'll be nice and feed their pets extra treats and that's their reward. (Has also poured a beer onto their face before.)

MOZE is a vodka lady. Also loves Moscow Mules for some reason who knows why right no correlation there...

ZANE is canonically drunk like, at LEAST 50% of the time. My man will drink anything but I'm getting big beer and whiskey vibes.

AMARA loves her gin. Usually mixes it in drinks, but sometimes she'll just knock it back.

#borderlands #borderlands 2 #borderlands pre sequel #borderlands 3 #roland the soldier #mordecai the hunter #lilith the siren #lilith the firehawk #brick the berserker #brick the slab king #axton the commando #maya the siren #salvador the gunzerker #gaige the mechromancer #krieg the psycho #zer0 the assassin #athena the gladiator #claptrap the fragtrap #wilhelm the enforcer #aurelia the baroness #aurelia hammerlock #timothy lawrence the doppleganger #nisha kadam #nisha the lawbringer #fl4k the beastmaster #zane flynt #zane the operative #moze the gunner #amara the siren

[nichenarratives]

Crescendo

An Obscure Oneshot

Inspired by this post.

Deep within the forested trails of Missouri, an orange aura licks the midnight sky, casting a glow as potent as the early morning sun over the trees. Closer, the crackle of wood as flames engulf an inconspicuous log cabin is as intrusive as the heat itself radiating from the cabin's carcass, a bright, monstrous creature waning and waxing with the wind, too powerful to be thwarted by the thin flurry of snow fluttering down on the three who watch the building burn.

To the left, an austere feline with a strong jaw and face stripes hunches forward to light a cigarette. Despite his proximity, Atlas May has done little to set these wheels in motion; he arrived with the other two and set them upon the establishment instead, holding back to watch his pilfered heavy hitter and triggerman work their first mission together, gauging if his earlier deduction - that they would be perfect partners - were accurate.

Smoke lit, the striped feline straightens and flicks his match into the snow, where it promptly extinguishes. He raises his gaze to the flaming cabin and calmly drags on his cigarette, relishing the heat it brings to his chest, enjoying the potent hit of nicotine as his rival's storehouse burns to the ground at his order. Atlas quirks a slight smile and exhales smoke in a steady stream. 

The night was almost flawless. Almost.

He can feel the young triggerman staring at his cheek, the anxiously perfectionistic tuxedo attempting to discern their boss' opinion on the job. Mordecai Heller has worked for the Lackadaisy Speakeasy for almost eight months, keeping on top of their books as an accountant, but this is his first job as triggerman, and he fucked up getting into a physical altercation with a guardsman, almost costing him his life.

Atlas knows that's not what worries the tuxedo, however; he isn't begging to return to his desk job nor in crisis after a brush with death, but concerned he's been inadequate. The boy has a lot of anxiety compared to his partner who, even before he had completed dozens of similar assignments, had the confidence to handle himself. 

Viktor Vasko never looked for reassurance or validation, never pandered to his boss, and it's those qualities Atlas wants to encourage in their new triggerman. With life or death hanging on the pull of a trigger, Mordecai couldn't be second guessing himself. He has to be confident, capable, and possess enough autonomy for self-preservation, not hinge his worth on the words of an authority figure that won't always be there to pat him on the back.

The striped feline takes another drag of his cigarette as the experienced bobcat draws Mordecai's attention and hands him back his dropped spectacles. Another slip up, the older businessman turned smuggler muses, sharp eyes still on the roaring flames. Had he lost those, he'd be useless as a sharpshooter and an accountant until they were replaced, if he'd even managed to get out of the flames without time to find the exit with blurry vision. He's got a lot to learn. Viktor will have his hands full for a while.

"Job done," Atlas finally states, drawing the attention of both the man and the boy. He pauses to take a last drag on the cigarette before dropping it to the snow, the sizzle of hot ash lost to the violent crackle of the larger fire. "Take him to see Elsa," he orders, catching Viktor's gaze over the tom's head. He doesn't intend to address Mordecai directly tonight; such attention is reserved for when he does a good job. "Get his arm stitched, then get some sleep. I want you both back in my office tomorrow at one tomorrow, to debrief."

The bobcat simply nods in acknowledgement, then watches as Atlas turns and strides away, back to his own car, taken swiftly by the trees and snow, tracks buried as if he were never there. Only once their boss is gone does Viktor look to the young man now in his charge, the tuxedo barely out of adolescence, a boy with a man's weapon at his hip and an unerring need for acceptance he won't find in Atlas May.

Mordecai drops his gaze to the snow, hand clutching at his injured arm more tightly. He doesn't need to be explicitly told he messed up; he's supposed to be their trigger man, to keep his distance, to protect the brawler and take out any who tried to get the jump on him. He'd been a fool not to take the second shot before approaching, to try to save ammunition instead of safeguarding himself.

The subsequent shot had been aimed at his heart. Had he not brought his satchel, had he not raised it in time, he'd most likely have bled out on the stairs long before they set fire to the building. Falling through the banister, rotted wood splintering into his arm, the dull thud of landing on the joint, are all still visceral memories, as was the lightning decision to shoot at the man who loomed over the broken banister, weapon raised for a second shot. 

Mordecai hadn't even aimed, didn't have time, but it was enough to bring the man tumbling down on top of him, whereupon the tuxedo managed to get the upper hand and impale him with the shattered banister, the crescendo of the fight. He'd lost his pince nez in the scuffle but ordered to leave immediately after, had scurried off without them, teeth grit against the aching throb in his left shoulder, the gun still grasped in his less dominant hand.

He'd survived, but barely. Mordecai shudders, both from the cold and the icy reception from Atlas, the man he wanted to impress. Alive, but a disappointment.

Viktor hadn't wanted to bring the boy on this job, but Atlas had insisted, touting that he needed to learn the stakes, that easing him into it would be detrimental. He believed the boy had what it takes to be a successful triggerman, if only he had the right teacher. "You," Atlas had posited, clapping a hand on the bobcat's shoulder as they watched Mordecai through his office window. "That's why he's coming tonight, so you can show him how it's done. You wait; a couple of jobs, and he'll be the best triggerman we could ask for."

The tuxedo looks as far from a triggerman as anyone could be in that moment; fragile, sullen, freezing. Mordecai shivers and clutches his arm, barely suppressing a cringe of pain into a slight flinch. He's a lost and lonely body, out in the woods all on his own, and without guidance he may perish. An almost vacant expression plays in downcast eyes and the bobcat's expression softens slightly, a sudden wave of empathy in his stomach.

He saw that face looking back at him in the mirror many times after returning from the war, and knows the hollow feeling that accompanies leaving everything you love behind to start anew, only to feel wholly inadequate. It's the wonder if the difficult decisions you made really were right, or if you've screwed everything up so badly, perhaps you'd be better off not waking up tomorrow.

Without a word, the bobcat side steps to close the distance between them to mere inches. Mordecai sees his feet shift and glances up through his lashes, shoulder still hunched against the cold. Eyes still locked on the raging fire, Viktor opens arm arm out behind the tuxedo, his hand pressed into a pocket so his coat also fans out, silently offering the tom a chance to step closer if he wants. 

An offer of comfort and warmth, in a moment of uncertainty.

Mordecai hesitates, ears half-turned away from the crackle of the fire, eyes slowly shifting between the bobcat's stony face and the free space at his side. It would be a step to the left - a simple, single step towards his new comrade - and he'd have accepted the unexpected offer, an offer he's not sure he fully understands the scope of, but is enticed by the warmth nonetheless.

Eventually, much like Viktor, he sets his eyes on the fire and silently steps closer, allowing his injured arm to brush the other's fluffy jumper before angling the appendage to rest on the bobcat's front. Viktor gently closes his arm around him, encasing Mordecai in half of his overcoat, which the tuxedo grabs the edge of to hold around his body, trapping the heat in with them as he pulls it tight, unperturbed by the feel of Viktor's arm around his back and side.

The flames continue to lick the darkness, burning the inky black in orange and yellow as they watch, mesmerised by flames in a comfortable silence. A bobcat, offering simple solace to a tuxedo, in need of reassurance... and perhaps a warmer coat.

#mordecai heller #lackadaisy #fanfiction #lackadaisy cats #lackadaisy mordecai #fanfic #niche narratives #tracy j butler #obscure oneshots #oneshot fanfiction #oneshot #inspired by art #vikdecai #cute husbands being husbands before they were husbands

[chaifootsteps]

HC that Mordy and Viktor both do that 'only I'm allowed to trash talk him' thing about each other

Mordecai will critique Viktor's dress sense and grammar all day long but the minute someone else makes fun of him he'll eviscerate them with just his sharp words so there's nothing left but a smoking crater

Viktor will roll his eyes at Mordecai's fussy nature & total lack of social skills but will turn his Death Glare beam all the way up the second he hears someone else try to antagonize Mordecai for kicks

(and of course they'll merrily decimate their way through an entire warehouse full of people while checking in on each other)

It was all completely toothless until the day someone got shot.

#Anonymous #Lackadaisy #Vikdecai #actual blog post

[fictionalband-bracket]

ROUND 1 BRACKET!

let's get this show on the road!

round 1 is currently underway! feel free to ask for any corrections or adjustments although i can't edit polls after posting!!! may the best band win!

band list under the cut

SIDE A

Lady Parts (We Are Lady Parts) vs School of Rock (School of Rock)

Dumpty Humpty (Danny Phantom) vs Gorillaz

Chicken Choice Judy (Infinity Train) vs Morfonica (BanG Dream!)

Rock Band Club (Ensemble Girls!!) vs Pentakill (League of Legends)

Girls Dead Monster (Angel Beats!) vs Dethklok (Metalocalypse)

Studio Killers vs Kitty Section (Miraculous Ladybug)

Grojband (Grojband) vs Afterglow (BanG Dream!)

Lemonade Mouth (Lemonade Mouth) vs Polly and the Pockets (Polly Pocket)

Sadie Killer and the Suspects (Steven Universe) vs Beck: Mongolian Chop Squad (Beck: Mongolian Chop Squad)

The Mary Janes (Spider-Gwen) vs The Rainbooms (MLP: Equestria Girls)

RAISE A SUILEN (BanG Dream!) vs Sasha and the Sharps (Amphibia)

Barbie and the Rockers (Barbie) vs Charmz (The Barbie Diaries)

Sonic Underground (Sonic Underground) vs Carole & Tuesday (Carole & Tuesday)

Pink Slip (Freaky Friday) vs Given (Given)

Poppin’Party (BanG Dream!) vs Crimson Dawn (South Park)

The Hex Girls (Scooby-Doo!) vs DCMC (Mother 3)

SIDE B

The Black Stones (Nana) vs Julie and the Phantoms (Julie and the Phantoms)

Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem (The Muppet Show) vs Ho-Kago Tea Time (K-ON!)

Los Animatrónicos (Five Nights at Freddy’s: High School) vs Jem and the Holograms (Jem)

Love Händel (Phineas and Ferb) vs The Clash at Demonhead (Scott Pilgrim)

ShinganCrimsonZ (Show by Rock!!) vs Kessoku band (Bocchi the Rock!)

The Runaway Five (EarthBound) vs Sex Bob-omb (Scott Pilgrim)

Bunk Bed Junction (No Straight Roads) vs LoliRock (LoliRock)

The Chirpy Chips (Splatoon) vs Steven and the Stevens (Steven Universe)

Mordecai and the Rigbys (Regular Show) vs Josie and the Pussycats (Josie and the Pussycats/Archie)

Plasmagica - (Show by Rock!!) vs Pastel*Palettes (BanG Dream!)

The Mechanisms vs The Penguin Band (Club Penguin)

Choujuu Gigaku (Touhou Project) vs The Gavinners (Ace Attorney)

Hello, Happy World! (BanG Dream!) vs The Dazzlings (MLP: Equestria Girls)

Roselia (BanG Dream!) vs Wild Azur (Pretty Cure)

Leo/need (Project SEKAI) vs MilkCan (Um Jammer Lammy/PaRappa the Rapper)

Bottom Feeders (Splatoon 2) vs Löded Diper (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

#tournament #bracket #should i put some fandom tags . i think i will #bandori #project sekai #bocchi the rock #ace attorney #equestria girls #steven universe #danny phantom #precure #show by rock #splatoon #scott pilgrim #polls #poll tournament #tumblr competition #fandom polls #poll competition

[jukeboxuniverse]

Prompt 23 - Holding hands under the table

My f/o is Nicodeme Savoy from the webcomic/series Lackadaisy! He works as a hitman for the speakeasy Marigold- is very brash and loud despite the fact that he’s supposed to be discrete with his hits. He works alongside his younger sister, Serafine, who shares his personality but is definitely the brains of the two- and Mordecai, who’s very calculated and skilled in his job.

Nico grew up in the Bayou with his sister, having been raised by Voodooiennes and growing acquainted with the wildlife. He particularly likes reptiles

My s/i is a snow leopard college student named Walker Brightman, who also loves animals and studying them. He’s very socially awkward, not knowing people or social cues very well. To continue paying for school, he studied alcohol fermentation and started his own gin joint where he sells alcohol to his classmates. Him and Nico met when Walker was dragged to the speakeasy Nico works for and won him a game of pool

Lackadaisy takes place in the Prohibition Era, so Walker and Nico holding hands under the table could be them trying to be discrete about their relationship? I don’t know, I’ll leave that up to you!

-@floofselfshipblog

i hope you like it <3

@floofsselfshipblog

Nicodeme’s paw weighs heavily in yours. He’s uncharacteristically quiet at the moment, chewing thoughtfully on the toothpick he lets droop out of his mouth. His whiskers twitch occasionally, the only acknowledgement that you really need of his awareness of you and your presence. That, and the rough pads of his paw, gently holding onto you.

It’s dark in the speakeasy now, the reason your current entanglement has yet to be discovered. Secrets are easiest to hide in dark corners, under tables. They’re also easy to hide when most of the cats around you are delirious with contraband liquor.

You watch the side of Nico’s face as he demolishes his toothpick, not using it for its intended purpose but instead chewing it to splinters. His eyes flash over to meet yours. It catches you off guard for him to look directly at you, and not only because he sees you. His eyes are a sharp gold, bright and intoxicating. It’s like staring into the sun, so bright that you can’t look away and leaving an imprint on your vision behind in its wake, so it’s still there when you close your eyes.

His pupils dilate noticeably when he looks at you. His nose twitches and you watch his lips curl into a smirk. He’s caught you staring. He winks, one of his ears twitching.

“See somethin’ y’like, cher?” He purrs, voice low and soft. His words drip heavy with a deep, honeyed southern accent. The flavors of Louisiana are inescapable when he speaks, which sends shivers through you. The whisper is for you, too. Nobody can hear him but you. He quirks up one heavy eyebrow at you, insufferably beautiful even when he’s taunting you.

Of course you do. You always do. He knows that. You want to tell him, you want to shout it from the rooftops. Instead, you squeeze his paw firmly. It’s a simple touch but it conveys all that you really need to.

#[others.ships] #self ship fanfiction #self shipping

[ladysqueakinpip]

Medieval torture methods, you say?

there are some really bizarre ones (under a read more for obvious uh. you know. graphic descriptions/imagery/blood/torture etc. this is truly not for the faint of heart)

i just found this youtube vid where some guy walks though basically the entire medieval torture museum in chicago. again. warning for graphic content as if the thumbnail image isn't clear enough on that.

all sorts of devices and machines in this video. i like that this museum shows the rat basket torture method (timestamp 15:50). it's something i saw in another youtube vid a long time ago and had never heard of before, and i found it particularly disturbing, but i havent seen another mention of it since (until now).

the blood eagle and the brazen bull are two other methods i find SUPER scary. none of the videos i glanced through today doubted the legitimacy of the brazen bull, but ive seen other sources that say it is only a legend and there's no historical record of it ever actually being built.

on a side note one of my fun/disturbing torture facts gives more background on the bible! ive actually had to explain this to my dad and multiple other people.

In esther 5:14, haman builds a pole 75ft tall to impale mordecai (in other translations ive seen 75ft gallows but we will focus on the pole this time around). a lot of people ask: isn't that height excessive?

it is! that's the point. impalement poles were conical in shape. the tip came to a sharp point, and the base was however large it needed to be to accommodate the height of the pole and the slope of the point. when a person was thrown onto it, they usually didn't die immediately. it was a slow, painful death. part of the pain was from gravity pulling the body further down on the pole. the further down your body was pulled, the more excruciating the death was, since the pole became thicker and tore you open more and more.

#and this was everyones squeaky-sponsored horror halloween special #for the middle of February i guess. #cw blood #cw torture #tldr people in the dark ages needed serious psychological help

[lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit]

Thank you for writing for Lackadaisy. You’re the only one I’ve found so far.

Could you do Reader being Atlas’s sibling and Mitzi’s in law deciding to help her with the speakeasy since they have a sibling like relationship with her? Absinthe or one shot dealer’s choice if you decide to.

Atlas’ death was a major blow for everyone. Y/N was no different, being his sibling. It was a wonder they were out of the house as early as they were.

However, someone had to make sure Mitzi was making it okay. She was infatuated with the tomcat, regardless of whether or not their marriage was on the rocks at the time. That was their story, anyway, and they were sticking to it.

Y/N and Mitzi meet about three weeks into her time dating Atlas. They hit it off almost immediately. Mitzi was a good sweet-talker, but Y/N grew up with Atlas and knew when someone was trying to worm their way in and when to slam the door on them. Manipulating Y/N was not going to happen, but it was fun watching Mitzi tried until she clued in that this cat was just as sharp as their brother.

Their relationship only flourished from there. Mitzi dropped the act a little bit and opened up to them, the nights she wasn’t with Atlas or the band she spent with Y/N and the two were seen as thick as thieves. Needless to say, Y/N barely hesitated to give Mitzi their blessing to marry their brother.

They were also a regular at the Lackadaisy speakeasy. They hung out with Ivy as her kittensitter, they attempted to talk to Mordecai, they helped run the bar if need be and found new hire Rocky to be hysterical. Atlas had a beautiful queen cat on his arm, a sibling watching his family’s back, an empire running booze like water and a legacy that seemed like it would never end.

And then he died, and it almost all went up in smoke.

Rocky and Y/N had to be Mitzi’s rock for a little while, although she was likely reluctant to tell them. Y/N stepped up to run things when it overwhelmed her and we all know what Rocky got up to. In their own ways, it helped more than she wants to admit.

Y/N paid for Atlas’ funeral, Rocky ran things while she was away. Y/N came over on the nights Mitzi couldn’t sleep, Rocky made up bombastic poems to make her smile. Y/N helped pay for things when money started running low, Rocky took up rumrunning to keep bringing money in. Every little thing either one could think of, they went out of their way to do it.

In return, Mitzi gave Y/N a job when they wound up losing theirs and gave Rocky a concrete place to stay, at least for now. Lady fortune finally seemed to smile on the little ragtag family of five (later six when Freckle was roped in).

When Wick entered the picture and Mitzi started showing interest, Y/N was all for it. Mitzi had never let herself go, but she was clearly preening more often now that there was another cat that caught her eye. If money wasn't an issue Y/N would suggest Mitzi take things a step further and fully go out with him–not just on one random adventure that ends in a kiss, but a full-out date.

Rocky’s extreme distaste for Wick is the first crack in their friendship. Y/N doesn’t see anything wrong with him: he’s kind to Mitzi, he’s sweet to everyone around him, he likes Y/N and seems to genuinely love Mitzi. Still, the crack is enough for them to keep quiet and not rock the boat and Rocky never elaborates on his distate's foundation.

It stays like that for a little while. Rocky and Y/N kinda-sorta-but-not-really walking on eggshells around each other whenever Wick gets brought up in conversation, Y/N running things in the background, Mitzi putting more and more trust into them. Maybe one day she’ll tell them just what exactly happened to their brother, since all anyone ever told them was that he was dead.

Does their relationship get better or worse with passing events? I’ll leave that up to your interpretation.

#🖋 mod ille #Headcanon Home Brew #Mitzi May #Rocky Rickaby #Lackadaisy #lackadaisy & reader #lackadaisy reader insert

[lordofdestructionm]

Mordecai is his dapper sharp work clothes is fantastic. I love me some sharp tailoring. Love to see it

But Mordecai in his casual stay at home attire? That feels like something scandalous.

The shock of seeing someone usually buttoned up and dressed to the nines looking so domestic

#lackadaisy #tracy j butler #mordecai heller #lackadaisycats #cat #1920s #gangster #why is this triggerman so cute sometimes? #art #prohibition

[samantha-and-her-chaotic-desires]

BELOW THE SURFACE: CHAPTER TWO: Cyanide's Touch

Below the Surface: A 2023 Lackadaisy Fanfiction...now posted here, there, and NOW on Tumblr. Enjoy!

TW: poisoning, blood, vomit, violence and gore: If you are uncomfortable with these things, SKIP AHEAD. While the gore and blood is at the end, I will mark it accordingly.

---"Too many of us treat guns with genial familiarity. Guns should give us the heebie-jeebies. They are killing machines. That is all they are. We should dread them the way we dread cancer and cyanide and electric chairs." - Author: Kurt Vonnegut Jr.---

"His voice means to deceive you...my voice just wants to lead you...Below the Surface."

-🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹-

A night of witnessing poker playing and other gambling games increased his headache.Yet Mordecai Heller still remained by Asa Sweet’s side for that night. All these rich people, wasting their time and wealth on betting games. Occasionally, Asa nudged him into a game or two.

“I’m uninterested in such a rambunctious activity, Mr. Sweet,” Mordecai told him in a flat tone, and Mr. Sweet would only reply with a smirk and a shrug of his shoulders, before returning to his gambles.

“Aw, really? I thought you were the type of guy to be exceptionally good at gin rummy~”

Mordecai’s ears flicked up slightly, turning his head to face the Savannah cat in front of him: Silas Tueuse, French actor. 

“I can assure you, I would rather not.” He remarked in disdain, trying to keep himself up to be professional, yet somewhat polite. “Besides: I am not one to lose myself over such antics.”

“Aww, what a spoil sport.” Silas inched closer to the tuxedo cat, his own ears flicking upward, and his tail fluffed up. Mordecai looked into his yellowish green eyes, and his frown deepened. He watched the Savannah cat breed carefully and very closely. He watched his neck length, brown and highlighted hair, seeing how much it bounced as Silas moved and turned his head.

“That’s what I keep telling the boy,” Mr. Sweet chuckled, giving Mordecai a gentle nudge. Mordecai suppressed the urge to roll his eyes yet again, but despite that, he couldn’t help but to give an unnoticeable smirk at his boss’s remark.

“I can always help loosen you up~” Silas offered, leaning back in his chair, his legs opening slightly. Mordecai had a close–mouthed grimace curl onto his lips, his ears flattening against the back of his head. He and Mr. Sweet shared uncomfortable glances of the innuendo Silas proceeded to practically shove into their faces.

“I like to decline that, very much.” Mordecai cleared his throat, turning his head away. Silas shrugged with his right shoulder, leaning back more.

“Your loss, then.” He ran his tongue on the top row of his canines. He turned to face another hotel member, now chatting away. This hotel member was named Roberto, a quiet and shy type of man. Silas was trying to flirt with him and get him out of his shell, in order to do unholy things.

“Uch…” Mordecai pinched the bridge of his nose, and felt a gentle pat on his arm from Mr. Sweet, and it somehow eased him for the given moment. The rest of the night was still rather loud, but eventually it all ended. Silas brought some poor unfortunate fellow along to God knows where, and the office had been emptied, aside from Mr. Sweet and Mordecai.

“Well, they certainly got their money’s worth.” Mr. Sweet spoke up, leaning back in his chair and sorting out the dollars he had. He lit up a cigar, intaking some of the smoke, then exhaling out his nose.

“I have yet to commiserate with the fools and how they spill out their wealth over a simple game of gin rummy.” The tuxedo cat finally brought up.

“Ah, don’t act like you don’t enjoy a round of gin rummy.” Mr. Sweet chuckled, pulling out his cigar from his mouth. “You’re quite good at it, you know.”

Mordecai’s ears flattened further on his head, eyes narrowing more. His sharp and cold glare softened, just for a split second, before shifting back to the cold and stoic gaze he always harbored. “...I don’t play gin rummy much anymore.”

“Painful memories, eh?”

“Very much so.”

“Understood.”

There was more silence, aside from Mordecai taking out his pocket watch and flicking it open to notice the time. He rolled his eyes and flicked the lid of the pocket watch shut with a loud click.

“Son, there’s been many things going on in the shadows of St. Louis.” Mr. Sweet finally sat up fully, turning to face Mordecai.

“Isn’t there always, Mr. Sweet?” Mordecai cocked a brow, putting away his pocket watch.

“Not like this…amongst us rum–runners is something dangerous…more dangerous than usual.” Mr. Sweet leaned forward, gesturing with his free hand. “I’ve had too many employees rush into my office to tell me that my hotel residents are dying in their rooms.”

Mordecai faltered, blinking once, twice, registering the words his boss had spoken. “Dying?”

“Killed, it doesn’t matter how: what matters is that they’re dead. Unmoved. Complete cadavers.”

“I understood that part completely, Mr Sweet, you needn’t explain a thing.”

“...do you remember Mrs. Smitt?”

“Quite well, in fact. She was the kind and feeble elderly woman who came in to spend the night here after her daughter’s baby shower. That way she could hop on a train to return safely to Detroit.”

Mr. Sweet’s eyes dulled: “...she’s dead.”

“...excuse me?” Mordecai paused again. “...she’s dead?”

“Staff found her with a slit throat in a pool of her own bloodied water in the bathtub.”

“Christ…”

“It was one of the grizzlier murders…like something you would’ve done on command.”

“When was the murder, sir?”

“Two days ago, eleven–thirty pm, sharp. ”

“I was right beside you while you were busy playing roulette.”

Mr. Sweet gave a hearty chuckle, clapping the other’s shoulder. “I’m well aware. You never left my side during nights like those.”

“It’s my job, after all.” Mordecai gave a single, firm nod. Mr. Sweet gave him a genuine grin, and Mordecai’s expression finally broke out into a small smirk. It quickly faded into a nonchalant expression as he gazed forward. He pursed his lips tightly, keeping himself silent. The news of murder circulated in his thoughts, turning cogs in his head as he began to wonder who Marigold was dealing with…

***

The poor man had no idea what hit him.

Roberto stole each kiss from Silas, being lured away into a pool room, tucked away into a further corner of Hotel Maribel. Silas giggled at Roberto, stroking his chin as he pressed him against the pool table.

“Ah, damn…” Roberto let out a shudder, feeling Silas’s hands rove across his chest. Silas gave a crooked grin, baring his sharp fangs.

“You like that, don’t you?” He chided, bringing his lips closer to Roberto’s neck. Roberto let out a shriveling moan, leaning into the bite.

“Y–yes…” He admitted softly, gently. He hastily gripped onto Silas’s top, but Silas guided the hands away.

“Nah–ah–ah…not until you had a drink. Just one more: for me?~” Silas stroked Roberto’s chin, then strutted away to shut the double doors, then sauntered over to a drink cart. Roberto slumped against the pool table, letting out a small, unheard whimper. Silas kept his back turned, hiding the fact that while he was pouring Roberto his favorite gin, the Savannah Cat slipped in poison. No…

…he poured in cyanide. Yet Roberto was too blinded and a bit too drunk. Silas hummed a haunting tune, slipping the cyanide bottle into his pocket, then swung himself around, holding Roberto’s whiskey and giving it to him, gently caressing his shoulder. 

“Drink up,” Silas hummed, “we don’t want you to get parched~” He planted one last kiss on his mouth, then strutted to get a pool stick. He got a chalk cube, chalking the cue slowly, deliberately, gears shifting in his head as he heard the ice clink against the glass when Roberto took a drink of the gin, the gentle gulp or two. Silas’s ears flicked at the sounds, and he grinned deviously: the cyanide would later take place…

***

“Peekon?”

Mordecai’s eyes snapped open, and his head whipped up. When did he fall asleep…? How did he let this happen? He was scolding himself…until he realized and felt the gentle draping of a jacket over him. He met yellow eyes and slit pupils, his shoulders dropping at the sight of Serafine. He gave a deep frown, sitting up slowly in his chair. He massaged his temples with his fingers, muttering something incoherently.

“I thought I locked the door.” He then brought up.

“Ya didn’t…I guess dat you felt too tired.” Nico chimed in. Mordecai stared at the Savoy siblings with dulled eyes. He gently took off the jacket, realizing that Serafine was wearing only her red undershirt, with her necklace of bones dangling almost elegantly…in a haunting manner. Ah…said jacket was hers.

“Which is rather indecorous of me, considering the current work location and time.” He handed it over to her, though a glimpse of gratefulness flashed through those olive eyes of his, before quickly fading.

“Mmh, you an’ your fancy words…don’ you get a bit tired of keepin’ all dat up, chér.” Nico gave a quick eye roll. There was a gentle clink of a mug on Mordecai’s desk, with a nice scent wafting into the trio’s senses.

“...did…” Mordecai stared at the mug of tea, his favorite, no less: Earl Gray. He eyed it skeptically, pursing his lips tightly.

“We listen, chér. No matter how much talkin’ you do, we listen .” Serafine slid the mug over more, just slightly. Mordecai blinked.

“...that’s rather unusual, coming from you and Nico.” His fingers curled around the handle of the mug, and he brought it over cautiously. “...no pranks? No Winchester sauce poured in as one of your practical jokes?” He raised a brow, smelling the fragrance: it was the usual, subtly citrusy scent, and his shoulders noticeably dropped. He felt relaxed, at least a bit more. Though he is going to be fuming if he finds that damn sauce in his tea… again. So reluctantly, he took a sip…and it tasted good. He was in pure shock. “...my apologies. I assumed before I found out.”

“No apologies, we don’ need any.” Nico shrugged it off. Mordecai took another sip, and he sighed, setting the cup down and he took off his pince–nez, rubbing his eyes with two fingers.

“...what are you doing here, anyhow? Don’t you have to attend your cult with…your chicken.” Mordecai used hand gestures. Nico and Serafine shared a fit of laughter, ringing through the tuxedo cat’s head.

“We’ve been stuck wit’ Mr. Sweet, jus’ like you, chér.” Serafine then slid her arms through the sleeves of her jacket, now adjusting how it felt.

“That’s rather unfortunate.” Mordecai deadpanned.

“Someting we can both agree on.” Serafine raised her brows slightly.

“A shocker.”

“Oh don’ tink dat you’re better than me.”

Both of them gave each other withering glares, with Nico staring with a somewhat wide–eyed stare. Serafine cracked a genuine grin, her eyes squinting: showing that she was thoroughly and honestly enjoying the banter she and Mordecai had going on. Mordecai gave a smirk, raising his own brows out of surprise.

“Hm. I wasn’t the one who carved a loa into someone’s chest.” He held a hand up. Serafine flicked her knife out, pointing at Mordecai as she watched his eyes narrow, and his tail fluff up in alarm.

“...hm. You learned a ting or two.” Nico hummed. “Dat’s a start.”

“Mhh, I suppose.” Mordecai swished around the tea in his mug. The office was quiet, now…despite the literal embodiments of chaos known as the Savoys standing directly in front of him. He couldn’t help but feel enlightened…barely.

The three heard footsteps, rushed, panicked even. Mordecai quickly moved to answer the door, and noticed how Mr. Sweet was now in front of him. There was an uncanny look of urgency in his boss’s eyes, and that meant something awful happened. Mr. Sweet put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it a bit.

“...there’s another victim of homicide, Mordecai.” He kept his voice lowered. Immediately, Mordecai let out a small noise of disturbance, then he gave a firm nod, pulling out his M1911 and gripping it tightly. Serafine’s head whipped to face the other two, as they rushed out of the room. She followed with curiosity eating at her, quickening the pace with her brother by her side.

“How did this happen?” Mordecai kept himself collected, being led by Mr. Sweet.

“Nobody knows what exactly happened…but there’s…” A look of disgust crossed Mr. Sweet’s face. Mordecai bit back the urge to grimace, but he continued forward.

“Peekon, what’s goin’ on?” Nico walked by the tuxedo cat, and Serafine wasn’t too far behind.

“Murders have been going on in the hotel. It’s becoming apparent that we are a target to this predator.” Mordecai took a sharp left, and the faint smell of vomit wafted into his nostrils. He let out a growl, ears pinning on his head as he reared back, bringing his arm to his nose and mouth, turning his upper body to face the other direction as he halted in front of closed double doors. He was missing the scent of his tea now.

“Ugh, what crawled up an’ died in dere?!” Serafine let out a quiet retching noise, suppressing a gag. Mr. Sweet swallowed thickly, then shoved open the doors to the secret pool room. When he showed the Marigold Trio what was causing such odors, it was apparent now. Crystal clear, and it made Mordecai’s stomach twist into knots.

(TW: blood, vomit and gore below!)

“What the hell?!” Serafine backed up, jerking away violently as she hit the back of a lounge chair. Nico reached for her, his ears pinning against the back of his head. His eyes were widened. The horror scene in the pool room. Blood splattered on the floors, but that’s not all. A pool stick was stabbed into Roberto’s right eye as he slumped against the wall. Vomit was on the floor, nearby his feet, and bits and pieces of bile caked the corners of his mouth. His mouth was open, as if he was trying to gasp for air before he was killed. His face was slightly tainted with blue and purple, due to suffocation. Cartilage from his stabbed eye stuck out and curled around the pool stick in a disgusting fashion, occasionally dripping blood or sloppily falling onto the floor in pieces.

(TW: blood, vomit and gore warning over!)

“Son of a…” Nico trailed off. Then, his brows creased as he tilted his head to the side: confusion crossed his face. He had no clue who was going this far to take such measures to massacre people like this. Serafine looked concerned more than she had ever seemed: her brows were angled, she dug her heel into the ground and planted herself. Mr. Sweet was tapping his foot rapidly, sweat beading his forehead over the situation and how there was, yet again, another murder in his hotel…and for the first time for the elaborate triggerman, hatchetman, ferocious shadow of Mr. Sweet, Mr. Mordecai Heller…

…his gun slipped out of his hand and hit the floor, and the world went silent and deathly still.

-🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹-

#Below the Surface - Lacka-Fic #lackadaisy #mordecai heller #serafine savoy #nicodeme savoy #rocky rickaby #ivy pepper #calvin freckle mcmurray #mandisa sephtis #lacrimosa ambrose #silas tueuse #raquelle tueuse #james monroe #celeste legarra-smitt #asa sweet #mitzi may #sedgewick sable #dorian zibowski #lackadaisy mordecai #lackadaisy serafine #lackadaisy nico #lackadaisy rocky #lackadaisy ivy #lackadaisy freckle #lackadaisy mandisa #lackadaisy lacrimosa #lackadaisy silas #lackadaisy ocs #original post #lackadaisy fanfiction

[weaselbeaselpants]

Trying to be careful in how I go about this post, since it's not an accusation or slander of any kind, more of a trip down deviantart memory lane for me. I'm nervous mostly because I've seen some Lackadaisy fans and HazbinHelluva fans starting to butt heads about which animated short is better. C'mon guys, no fights or I'm putting you all on time out.

The first time and the first person who introduced myself to Tracy Butler and the Lackadaisy comic was actually Vivzmind (that's VivziePop's old da username. Will always subconsiously call her that in my head even though 'Pop' sounds better). I vividly remember Viv had filled out one of the then really popular 2010 meme template things called an "Inspiration Map", and in the bottom she had Lackadaisy and linked to Tracy's page and called it "so good". I'm 100 percent sure that much of Lackadaisy, the webcomic, inspired Viv's interest with jazz age memorabillia. I mean it was already there given that Viv loves Princess and the Frog and Chicago, but I really think Lackaidaisy had a hand in creating Husk and Angel as they were seen in 2013- onward.

Yes, I know protoAngel and Arachnis died in the 1940s and Husk died in the 60s I think (also, I think Husk's final design was mostly done by Faustisse??? the hazbin stans feel free to correct that one ), but Husk's extraevegant casino-inspired look and detailed design feels like a Hazbin fusion of Mordecai, Rocky and Zib all at once and if nothing else inspired by Tracy's grand stand alone artwork of the Lackadaisy cast. Viv takes a lot of inspiration from fellow artists and to me it's clear she mused Tracy back in the day. Meanwhile, I'm not convinced half the reason Angel was/still is a mobster is related to her love of Lackadaisy, even if he and his brother are spider things, not cats. I can't unsee it, is all I mean.

If we're talking jazz-age inspo, I think Viv's world is flashy and simple in terms of depth where Lackadaisy's characters and world is a lot more nuance and definitely more researched, than Hazbin. Viv kins Chicago way better than she does Lackadaisy with her use of aesthetics and flare. When I say I personally take issue w Viv's art it's not that I think it looks bad on principle or because "ew sexymans everywhere = bad". I like sexymans and I love Viv's style. What frustrates me and other critics of Viv's art is it's all about what looks pleasing to her at the time and that's it. For the record- that's not inherently a bad thing-

Tim Burton, in case you didn't know, works the exact same way with his personal art and why he puts certain things in his movies. Ever wonder why Oogie Boogie's theme is casinos and Mars Attacks ends in Vegas? It's literally just because Tim spent a lot of time in Vegas and thinks Vegas and casinos are cool. ((Oogie was also kind of Elfman's brainbaby and a loveletter to Fleischer, but regardless)). My issue with Viv liking herself some edgy sex jokes, bowties, skinny guys, sharp edges and loud designs isn't that they're bad on that 'draw what I feel like' principle. It's that, unlike Tim or Tracy Butler, she continues to do it in ways that kind of hurt the character's designs and even personalities. You can absolutely pitch a character as "demon who died a 40s gangster so looks like a mobster spider freak and is just as manic and obnoxious in death as he was in life"- but when you keep only some aspects of his mobster look alive and get rid of others in lieu of the new personality you've basically grafted him into; "complex sleazy pornstar who's at once unapologetic about his perviness but feels trapped and exploited by his own interests and is also named after a drug from the 80s"...it just kinda falls apart.Because almost every other male character in Hazbin and Helluva have bowties, Angel's doesn't exactly stick out or feel like either a gangster or a cheeky pornstar aesthetic. Same goes with Moxxie in Helluva- he's supposed to be a gangster from a gangster demon family, which as a twist is kind of neat but in execution kinda fails because he doesn't exactly read hitman or gangster the rest of the time even though he wears a suit. Between his personality+demeanor, Moxxie's outfit screams more...tap dancer than gangster. It feel confused and kind of overconvuluted is what I'm trying to say.

While not everyone can be Tracy Butler, by contrast you can see through the ages how her characters have come into their own through the decade since Lackadaisy started, which leaves in interesting feel for characters like Mordecai, f.e.

In the comic proper Mordecai is a straight-faced and kind of terrifying hitman who's both good at killing and getting the job done, so he feels very serious even when he's cracking jokes or playing off the goofier characters. In the years since the first volume was finished though, while Mordecai himself has stayed serious in the comic, the readers have gotten the peek into his past ahead of the 'main'-ish cast with the prequel comics about Morty and Victor working together and Mordecai still being an overly serious nerd but also a pissy neat freak. I think the latest parts of the comic featuring Mordecai have done a great job at alluding to what's funny about him while still keeping him relatively serious. It's obvious the fandom love for this character and Tracy's own love for him rubbed off on his portrayal in what exists of vol 3 so far. Tracy's also made changes and add ons to Mordecai's final character that feel consistant with the mostly basic character he was introduced as, more of a fleshing out of his character than a departure of who/what he has always been written to be.

I want so much to like, even love Viv's characters y'see, it's just that they kind of feel like Viv decides them a finished character upon first creating them and not when after she's truly introduced or finished working on them. This is the case with Angel, with Millie, with Stolas, with Lucifer. It's why I don't care for Sir Pent as his design reads too competant for the kind of folly he's ultimately supposed to be. Viv literally made him a permanent part because she just really liked his design, but what's been seen of him in and out of canon kinda shows two different types of characters the writers are desperate to insist are one in the same, or which naturally flow into the other...but they just don't? Yes, even for what is seen now. Some ppl say the way Viv's characters are fleshed out is like if the writers are writing fanfiction of their own property. It feels that way because rather than writing and designing for the sake of the character, the writers are writing for themselves. They're being self indulgent. Their appraising with the cast that doesn't feel earned because the actual depth the cast needs as characters hasn't happened yet (see also: Millie), just alluded to, and the writers being fans of their own work so much means they can't recognize that and keep up the indulgence parade. I "know", because I can recognize myself doing it when I get hyperfixated on my blorbos and so only write about them and my headcanons relating to them. The rest o the cast is important because otherwise your fav side character has nothing/no one to bounce off of. As much as I love Mordecai, the tale of Lackadaisy is not his story alone and the main character is Rocky.

Still tho, none of this should ever imply that Lackadaisy as a property is competition or better or worse than Hazbin and Helluva Boss. All of this is just *Dude voice* my opinion mayn. Even if it wasn't, both shorts and series have their own world and inspirations. Maybe all the business I laid out about Viv's writing is what's actually appealing to you as a fan and not a take away, maybe my Mordecai hypothesis doesn't cut how underwhelmed by the character and the short. IDK. While I think they have inspiration to thank for each other's existence...please don't bother the staff who worked on these or act like their problem is that one of them 'needs to be' the other. That wasn't my point. I don't want Hazbin or Helluva to be Lackadaisy at all. They're their own thing and shouldn't be treated like one in the same because of who created what and who worked on both pilots.

Let's not dip back into the time we were all "Star vs the Forces of Evil is what Steven Universe SHOULD BE, there's no way comparing these two it's a competition could cloud our judgement of either shows!!8D 8D 8D "

#helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #spindlehorse critical #lackadaisy #lackadaisy critical #This entire post was a ruse to demand Angel Dust's hat back btw