#i say derailing

[pyaasa]

Cardi B saying “I will only vote for Kamala if she commits to a ceasefire in Gaza” shows that she has more political understanding than like 99% of you on here

“I meannn I DO support Palestinians but 👉🏽👈🏽 I’m going to vote for and uncritically support Kamala anyway and put zero pressure on her to stop the genocide ✌🏽”

Not only are you guys unbelievably callous, but you’re also just not smart. At the very least, withhold your support for Kamala UNTIL she commits to a ceasefire. Make your intentions to her clear that you will vote for her IF she withdraws support from Israel. By uncritically supporting her, by loudly voicing the fact across every social media platform that you’re going to vote for her, and even straight up saying with your whole chest that you’re putting your interests first before the Palestinians (seriously you guys have no shame. Like it is actually shocking to me how unbelievably cruel some of you are), and most especially by DONATING to her lmfaoo….you are letting her know, you are literally EXPLICITLY telling her, that the Palestinians are fair game. You are telling her she can kill as many Palestinians as she wants, drop as many bombs on the Middle East as she wants, and it’s ok because you will still vote for her anyway.

For the love of God, if you are in the USA, PLEASE try to understand the power of your vote. Your vote decides if someone in another part of the world dies. Please at least try to feel the gravity of that. Please at least TRY to put pressure on your politicians. This uncritical and loud support is the worst thing you can do. You are signing a death sentence for the people of Gaza with your actions.

[ablueberryblogs]

I don't know what trans man need to hear this but you're allowed to be angry. It doesn't make you evil. You are allowed to experience all possible emotions without apology and still be a good man.

*this is about trans men specifically, do not derail. You are free to make your own post*

[ilikeeatingtoddlers]

My official fanart contribution to the Arcane fandom and Stebnation. This man has seen everything tbh.

I love Steb a normal amount <3

[never-rxne]

─── and throughout all eternity,

                                               ─── i forgive you, you forgive me.

18+ summary: you are the new english professor at a hidden university. sevika, professor of greek history, takes an interest in you. content warnings: light angst (very light) with a hopeful ending, fluff, smut (fingering, oral sex) wc: 2.6k notes: why do all my side quest fic ideas occur at the worst possible time? why am i not able to resist them? anyway this was my first time writing smut within a story. pls be nice i am a small asexual hiding in a hole inspired by this poem and this fanart.

──── ୨୧ ────

present—may 3rd.  

“close the door behind you.” 

her tone, as if she is addressing a student, is blunt, no-nonsense. you raise an eyebrow, but you shut the door with a click. 

and just like that the two of you are alone in her office. you lean against the bookshelf, crossing your arms. the room is a little too warm. sevika walks around her desk, taking off her glasses. she cuts her gaze at you. you stare back. a silent challenge. 

an eternity seems to pass between you, the ruthless flow of time counted in the stone-heavy ticks from the clock hanging above sevika’s desk. tick…tick…tick. 

and then sevika finally breaks the silence. 

“we should stop this.” 

you don’t say anything. not at first. you just watch her.  

“this…” sevika goes on, slowly, as if it hurts to talk. to breathe. “...whatever this is.” 

“whatever?” you echo. “this is ‘whatever’?”

she sighs. she looks more tired than the last time you saw her, as she looks down the rings under her eyes look carved into her skin. when had she begun to hold her secrets in her heart again? when had the door closed against you?  

back to where we started, you think. because this is how it all began. you in her office. six months ago, in the dead of november. the fallen leaves blanketing the campus grounds. the steam rising from your coffee in the cafe on church street where you and sevika would sit, talking about literature and politics and the woes of grade inflation. 

this is how it started, is this also how it ends?

──── ୨୧ ────

past—november 20th. 

sevika is poetry. you know this from the moment you first saw her at the reading, some release party for an anthropology professor whose book was recently published. she was standing near the back of the room holding a glass of champagne. the stem of the glass looked as fragile as a blade of grass between her fingers. in her other hand she held a cigarillo, and as she raised her head to exhale the smoke toward the ceiling her eyes fell on you. 

it hadn’t been long since you settled at the university. you had come alone, wearing the only formal clothes you owned. her sharp gaze made you feel stripped naked, and you had the uncanny sense that she could see right through you—for all the bravado you showed your students, for all the pure grit you got through the hellish years of grad school with—she saw you for who you were: an unmoored ship. a stranger on the east coast, seeking refuge from her past in a small liberal arts university. 

she was easily the most striking person in the room. among the white-haired, stooped male professors and the women in slightly outdated pantsuits sitting stiff in their seats, sevika stood tall, relaxed, as serene as a rock. her strong brows and jaw, the dark lipstick painting her mouth. her straight hair was pulled back from her face, but some dark strands had escaped and framed her eyes in a way that made you unable to look away.

she wore a tweed vest with a white shirt underneath, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. her forearms were the first thing about her that your eyes were drawn to. she looked impossibly strong. she looked more like a god than a human. 

if she was a poem, she would have been written by the most tortured poet. if she was a letter, the drawers would overflow with pages of her. the ink of her would always stain your fingers. you think this as she begins to walk toward you, as her low, smooth voice cuts through the mindless chatter of the reception.  

she gives you her name and card by the end of the night. sevika jain, professor of greek history. 

you don’t know what drew her to you. she tells you, in an offhand voice, that you’re always welcome to drop by her office. 

“if you need something like support,” she says. “emotional support.” 

you laugh. “does it already look like i do?” 

“sure. like a deer in headlights.” she smiles down at you for you to see the joke, revealing the gap between her front teeth. 

every one of your colleagues had offered the same invitation. a nicety, a kind of promise you were welcome to let drop. but you took up sevika’s offer, whether or not she meant it. by the end of that week you had knocked on the door marked ‘jain’, and she had offered you tea. 

you quickly find that you can talk to her about anything. she has just as much interest in literature as she does in history. you talk about the backwards politics of the university, the shortcomings of its president. 

both of you had built your careers from scratch. neither of your parents had gone to college, and sevika understands the grueling come-up from public schools to university circles where everyone seemed to have come from a different universe. sometimes you imagine that if you had opened the language of your soul to her, she would be able to read it fluently.

──── ୨୧ ────

past—december 8th.  

it’s quiet now. late night, the wind whispering against the window of sevika’s apartment. on the way back here from the restaurant, the air smelled of coming rain.   

little things. the taste of wine. the way sevika held your elbow when you walked over icy patches of the street, to keep you from slipping. 

“this is the hardest stretch,” she tells you. 

“are they flooding your office hours as well?” 

“you’d think they never had to write a paper in their lives.” 

her apartment is just a twenty-minute drive from campus, small and cozily untidy. her neckties are thrown over the backs of her chairs, and stacks of books sit in precarious towers on the bare hardwood floors. 

“you think the students would guess their scary professor jain lives like an alphabet city boho?” 

she takes off her jacket, tosses it onto the couch. then she strikes a match and lights a stick of incense by the window. “make yourself comfortable.” 

and because she says so you take off your jacket as well, placing it on top of hers. she goes into the kitchen and takes out a couple glasses. 

you follow her and watch her pour out the cups of wine, watch the muscles flex in her forearms, the way her dark brows arch over her eyes. she gives you the first glass. you lock eyes with her as you drink. those intelligent, maddening eyes. 

“do you often invite new english professors to dinner?” you ask. “then bring them over to your place?” 

she raises her eyebrows. “no. last one taught archeology. the one before that, french.” 

“priceless.” 

the corner of her mouth turns up. “you’re the only one.” 

“why’s that?” 

she sets the glass down, walks over to you. she brushes a knuckle over your cheek, then tilts your chin up toward her face, as gently as if you are a piece of antiquated art to be examined. “you always need an answer to everything?” 

“if i did, i wouldn’t be teaching english.” 

“damn right. you’d be teaching history.” 

when she kisses you it feels like coming home from a journey you hadn’t even realized you were travelling. you feel your limbs melt into her, until she’s got you backed against the wall and is all but holding you up with her strong hands gripping your hips. you wrap your arms around her neck and hook your legs around her waist, and she carries you this way, into the living room where the incense burns, and she lays you down on the mattress in the corner of the room, reverentially. 

her hands snake beneath the fabric of your turtleneck and you raise your arms to let her pull it over your head. a rush of cold air kisses your bare skin, which sevika follows with her lips, kissing against the goosebumps, unhooking the clasp of your bra. she undresses you slowly, methodically. she slips out the belt of your trousers, flings it to the side. you lie limp beneath her, feeling the cloth pulled away from your skin, feeling like a ripened fruit that shucked off its old shell, fresh and glistening for her. 

she grazes her callused fingers over your lips, tender from kissing, and taps against your mouth with her index finger, a quiet request, a gentle question. you open your mouth and let her in. she slips two of her fingers inside your mouth, slides them deeper in until you feel your throat close against the tips of her fingers, the salt and human taste of them filling your mouth. already your core is throbbing in wait. already you feel the wetness gather between your legs. you close your lips tighter around her fingers, forcing yourself to wait. close your eyes and feel her in your mouth. the mingled smells of her cologne and the incense burning on the windowsill. the wine from earlier in the back of your throat. 

“open,” she breathes, sing-song, teasing. you’re too deep in want to do anything more than sigh and let her part you like water. 

her fingers, glistening with your saliva, travel down the length of your stomach and hover over the waiting folds of your clit before she slides a finger along the tension-filled lips like the fine tuning of an exquisite instrument. you feel a small whimper well up in your throat as she touches you. your core throbs in too-eager anticipation of her touch. you feel your hips buck as she curls her forefinger against you, thumb pressed to the bud of your clit. 

“god,” she whispers. “you wanted this, didn’t you, honey.” it is not said as a question. it’s a statement, as sure and devastating as the fall of rome. she means, you wanted me. 

and then she enters your rose-wet cave, and momentarily the world goes dark with your heat. you arch your back, trying and failing to suppress the whines rising from your throat by biting down on your lower lip, trying to wait for her. sevika takes her time. lets your wetness coat her fingers. leans forward to find your mouth, kisses you softly as she makes a mess of you below. her tongue finds your tongue. her thumb keeps circling, gently, lazily. 

you can’t wait. you can’t. you’re grinding against her hand, chasing the friction she’s withholding. you feel her move inside you, and you know she’s waiting for you to ask. you know she will not take you until you give yourself to her. 

this is what you have been: stoic and unshakable for years. buried in the books, completely inaccessible. you’d always taken a grim pride in your ability to focus, how nothing could distract you from your goals. 

this is what you are: falling apart at sevika’s touch. her smell, her taste, the essence of her permeating the room, mingling with the scent of your arousal, with the small obscene sounds of her finger moving inside you. 

“give it to me,” you whisper against her mouth, eyes closed tight against the tears from the stimulation. “fucking give it to me, please.” 

she laughs, low. she holds you in the sound of it. then she’s making the downward journey to where you need her mouth, she’s slipping a second finger inside you, makes her thrusts rhythmic. her tongue circles roughly against your folds until any remaining thought melts away from your mind. until you’re reduced to nothing but incoherent sounds and the sparks of rising tension coiling in the pit of your stomach. your thighs ache from clenching against her, and when she groans something into your clit, your name, like a prayer, the reverberations throb through you and it’s enough. you let yourself go. you give yourself to her, entirely. when you cry out it echoes through the quiet apartment.   

the moon rises outside the window, cradled by the bare tree branches. 

sevika raises her head, and you reach for her, blindly, as your body rides through the aftershocks. her pretty eyes, her shining mouth. you think she can see it in your eyes, how no one has touched you this way for a long, long time.

“god,” is the only thing you can say. your pulse throbs through your body, the heat high in your cheeks. “god, god.” 

and you fall over again into the sheets, together.

──── ୨୧ ────

present. 

you both knew it couldn’t be serious; you both didn’t have the time. if you were smart you would never have started it. 

but with sevika… with sevika the fall was inevitable. you can’t walk across the campus without looking for her. you can’t enter a coffee shop without expecting to see her sitting near the back, reading a book with an espresso steaming in front of her. 

when she tells you she is going on sabbatical for the next year, it is the casual tone of her voice that cuts you deeper than the news itself. that she can let drop, like it is nothing, that she’ll be across the globe for a year, oceans away from you. you realize then that nothing will matter to sevika more than her work, her research. you always told her, jokingly, that you had finally met your match in academic zeal. but now the truth of it sinks into you like an anchor. 

she doesn’t pretend to believe it can work. she isn’t some lovesick high school senior, swearing their love can survive years in separate colleges. you respect her for it, but all the same it leaves a bitterness in your heart. was it fair? was it fair of her to give so much to you, make this place mean so much more than it did when you first received tenure, only to refuse to accept anything you could offer? 

you think of the way she first approached you. you think of her hands on your body, the way she smiled when she spoke to you, only half a sentence away from teasing you. you think of the softness of her eyes when she thought you were sleeping. the smell of tobacco and incense that gradually wove itself into the fiber of your clothing, your hair, your skin. 

she was telling the truth when she said you were the only one, and you believe this. 

now you stand in her office, staring at the patterns in the wood of the bookshelf as she tells you, we should stop this. 

“i thought you felt,” you begin, “at least i did—that this meant more. that what we had meant more.” 

something in your voice makes her look up. 

“i’m willing to wait,” you say quietly. “if you’ll let me wait.” 

she shakes her head. “i can’t let you.”  

“because you don’t want me to?”

“no,” she replies, quickly. too quickly. she turns her face away in embarrassment, pinches the bridge of her nose. “doesn’t matter what i want. i don’t want to be a distraction to you.”

“you’re not.” 

“listen, you’ve worked too hard. you get what i’m saying?” she searches your expression. “an affair won’t look good to the board. you’re gonna get that grant, you’re gonna move up.”

“you won’t be seeing me for a year anyway. is that really your concern?” 

she doesn’t answer. 

“can’t you for once let yourself have something, too, sevika?” 

she looks at you. 

another stretch of silence. the clock counts the beats of your heart, the emotions that struggle just beneath the coolness of her eyes. 

at last she says, “you’ll change your mind.” 

you look at her across the room. a smile plays over your lips. “try me.”

──── ୨୧ ────

─── as our dear redeemer said:

                                        ─── "this the wine, and this the bread."

[falafels]

i love ur seth u love how developed of a character he is i love how he’s funny and part of the team but also a dick and everyone dunks on him. truly how he should have been in a perfect aftg

thanks man! honestly i don’t think he ever could have been like that in canon/perfect aftg because the core of it is they all suck so bad and get in their own way. like he did want so badly for it to be better and wymack’s ideas to work but he wouldn’t be the one to commit to it if there was any chance it would fail, which is why i think it kind of works in this au? like the riko murder attempt puts him in a coma, he wakes up and suddenly it’s worked and the team is succeeding and people are getting better and it’s what he wanted but what he wanted to be part of and now he’s on the outside. he has to reintegrate to a team he barely recognises and is basically as outside as the new freshmen (who i WILL get to at some point they live in my head forever. probably not in the socmed au but there will be a long old lore post), and i think this isolation is kind of what draws him to aaron. aaron, who dislikes everyone so much that it sort of reaches a level of no-judgement (in that he’s so judgemental it kind of doesn’t matter anymore), as well as the fact that aaron seems to be drawing away from the team as well now that he’s allowed to. he’s not totally gone, but with any first freedom he vanishes for a bit and then chooses to come back as he pleases. seth thinks he’s a good place to start, as he’s part of the team but interacts with it on his own terms now. aaron also has some similar lore to seth, with addiction and strained familial relationships and not-so-progressive takes. seth eventually finds his stride by leaning into being the Elder Fox after a joke from one of the freshman- he’s not actually the oldest (renee and nicky both older), but he’s been a fox the longest and decides he’s some kind of pillar of wisdom and starts imparting this wisdom on occasion unprompted, like at practice there’s a quiet moment after dan explains a play and seth just goes “you can reheat pizza with a car battery but it will taste worse. and not with a honda because it catches fire and the owner chases you.” and kevin is endlessly annoyed by it because seth will just stop exy conversations to dispense today’s sage nugget of wisdom but the others find it vaguely entertaining if deeply confusing, and slowly seth becomes kind of weird in an amusing and more safe way than just a scowling jackass. don’t get me wrong, he’s still very much a scowling jackass, but he’s also someone who they know doesn’t actually mean them any harm. he’s kind of like the team’s version of your middle school best friend’s older brother who sits on lawn chairs wearing a bucket hat and no shirt and tells you the government is trying to steal your thoughts or your piss or some incredibly niche but elaborate conspiracy that he wholeheartedly believes and you’re like wow this guy cannot be real how does he get through a day but then the sink breaks and he fixes it with like 1 tool and some tape and it works perfectly and you start to think damn maybe he’s right about the aliens. anyway sorry i totally derailed this i love to talk about seth sorry ily thank u for this ♥️ ♥️ ♥️

[livelaughliushen]

I keep telling people I’m hyperfixated on arcane because it’s less embarrassing than telling them I’m hyperfixated on Jayvik.

Like tf do you mean for going on 75 days now all I’ve thought about is two guys who aren’t even the main focus of the show what the hell is wrong with me.

[lesbianjonimitchell]

Joan Baez presenting boygenius with the Variety 'Group of the Year' Award:

“I’m here to offer the award for Group of the Year to three women who have personally and musically stolen my heart. [...] I believe that the songs of these three women speak to the delicacy of the human condition. And they are in a sense trailblazers, not just with their music and its uniqueness, but in their willingness to speak out for people who are marginalized, and in fact ostracized and persecuted in this society. To bring about any society of decency and caring is going to take a lot of work, and you women have been a part of that work. A word about the music: I was brought up listening to and singing harmonies, and I’ve heard a lot of them in my day. I have seldom heard harmonies as true and as fucking angelic as yours. It’s just a glory to listen to. [...] Actually, they, I believe, will teach us something about the kind of friendship in musicians that I didn't really know back then. I was trying to imagine Crosby, Stills and Nash romping through an outdoor amusement park [...]. Friendship and pleasure and joy and trust, all of these come through clearly to me, and I think we can all learn from that as well."

[ender1821]

shinyduo/gempearl post-SL is sooo funny because before SL they were the typical "friends who like to do pranks with and against each other, partners in crime, really adorable sometimes" and then SL happened and they became OBSESSED with each other (really obvious from pearl's side since gem was more subtle) and innuendos started to appear left and right. now after WL they are not only obsessed they are also 10x times freakier and flirty. it's gem's fault a lot of the time but pearl enables it and digs herself into a deeper hole so she gets a wack too.

i am pleading to the sky for the fated shiny duo alliance to happen this year because 1) i am sure gem's possessiveness would get multiplied by 20 even if she tried to not show it and that'd be really fun + pearl would like it 2) their dynamic is so complex that they could be anything (codependent or healthy or possessive or die for each other or kill for each other or-) and 3) the aftermath of them teaming would be funny asf and the streams would be horrendous

thank you for coming to my ted talk 🙏

the freakier being in bold and italic is really getting to me for some reason lmao. anyway

you are right in the shift of them pre and post-SL, like, they are STILL giving cute partners in crime but also they’re. so. abnormal about each other??? thats not to say they weren’t flirty/making innuendos before the life series but god did all of that get worse after. also, it has kinda been shown how Gem is the one saying most of the questionable things, but Pearl definitely contributes a lot as well. lets not forget the pickles

of course we’re all manifesting for them to properly team up. its not even subtle at this point they both know that. the only things stopping it from happening really are luck and Gem’s homophobia (/j) cough. i mean. they would definitely get time to resolve what they failed to address back in WL if they’re allied together and can have time to talk. it could also make things worse but we’ll be seated either way. and then we’ll be questioning our existence again when the streams inevitably come

BUT. imo the alliance i really want is them + any other player. yep. i want a third wheel. it can literally be any other player because i think having someone else to affect/witness their dynamic is always entertaining, allows for exploration of new potentially fun dynamics between Pearl/Gem and another player while still offering plenty of opportunity for them to be. weird (/aff), and generally just gives the team a new spin instead of just Murder Camel 2.0. like. i’ve put way too much thought into this so there’s a whole ramble under cut about some of the potential trios and why i think they could be cool for a new life series

Jimmy: originally my life series s6 team predictions was pearl/gem/jimmy </3 mainly out of wanting more pearl + jimmy interactions, but i think having gem there helps just keep the team together. i thought they would be a nice team for jimmy in terms of support (think the SL scene where jimmy finds out he’s not the first out and they’re the ones there cheering him on) but well. thankfully we still had bamboozlers… anyway gem’s ego will get even worse if she had this team, and don’t we all wanna see that

Lizzie: PLEASE. impossible minecraft sent me to the point of no return because now i’m BEGGING for more pearl/gem/lizzie interactions. please. the girlies. we just need more gem + lizzie interactions in the life series imo, and we’ve already seen what happens when pearl + lizzie are together. i can’t tell you for sure if i think any betrayal will happen in this team but it would be really funny if there was, mainly just so lizzie and gem can bicker while pearl is just. There like a sad puppy. it’s cool if there isn’t though, i can see them thriving straight to the finale. cmon. think of the yuri

Ren: hey. hey. remember that one ren stream? you know the one. the wedding. do you see where i’m getting at. do you see the dynamic. it’s so funny to me ok. and we haven’t even mentioned the times where ren has mixed them up. i think it would be a horrible time for him to have to deal with these two and that’s so entertaining. if i picked jimmy because i thought he would have a nice time then for ren it’s for the complete opposite reason. make him suffer with these weirdos

Martyn: HE is the one who’s going to make them suffer. HE will be the one to make it worse. and it will be hilarious. let the man get some form of revenge for them terrorising him back in SL. they’re going to be insufferable and it’s going to be great. you might as well start the “hump duo” counter now …also i may just have a personal preference of wanting to see more pearl + martyn and gem + martyn interactions

Cleo: i mean. cmon. this one doesn’t need that much explanation. the people want a pearl/gem/cleo team

Impulse: same as cleo— SOUP GROUP ASSEMBLE!!!

Etho: pearl + etho interactions are great. gem + etho interactions are great. boom. gem gets to bully them both, then they either make a really successful trap or perform the greatest fumble ever! i see nothing but wins here

BigB: nosy neighbours… what if we tried again… plus i’m pretty sure there was a temporary gem + bigb team in RL, so why not give them a whole season. i think it would be fun. it’d be interesting to see how this team shifts with bigb’s general play style in the life series. i wonder how the base(s?) would turn out

Mumbo: listen to me. they have the funniest opportunity here to fluster this man to the high heavens. think about SL ep 5. think about it

Scar: so like. remember that 2v1? yeah. crazy, right? no but okay i don’t think if they teamed up there would be that much more emphasis on the 2v1 after all that in WL, but there WOULD be good times. i know this deep in my heart. the pearl/gem/scar interactions would go crazy. i hope they go on a hunting spree

Joel: i think this one is the least likely (on account of the fact that pearl has teamed with him in SL, and then gem doing the same in WL) but there could be beautiful world where pearl and joel build an even bigger and better car and gem just watches and sighs

Scott: insert manic laughter here. Pearlescentmoon you are about to have the worst time of your life ever

[limeade-l3sbian]

Man, sometimes I think about the absolute vitriol and hate that people threw Amber Heard's way and idk I've just never looked at some people the same again.

And all of it was before ANY evidence had been shared. And when it was revealed, not one fucking sorry. I blocked every social media personality I saw who went the extra mile to call her a bitch and make it known how much they hated her. All because you fuckers are so deadset on making it seem like women abuse men JUST AS MUCH as men abuse women.

[animatedmess]

Editing one of the first chapters of my fic, and guys, this just derailed into a huge love letter of how much Bruce loves Clark, mind you this is like the second/third chapter, they are not even remotely together, my man just needed to let it out and let it be known that he loves his alien boyfriend bestie.

[wandixx]

Halloween dress-up, let's go!!!

Assignment: "Dress up as ghosts".

Status: Yes. They're ghosts. Just really different types of ghosts

[vikdec4i]

Heyo it’s me, I’m here to ruin ya day

Thoughts on Mitzi and Mordecai’s parallels and how desperate they are to find answers about Altas’s death?

mordecai heller and mitzi may: a piece on grieving.

FIRST of all, i apologise that this response took a very long time to cook up. i wanted it to be as fleshed out as possible because i do have a lot to say in this regard. the train of thought initially departed because of the widespread misunderstanding around mitzi’s character. to which i thought to myself: well it’s strange that people can easily extend their empathy towards mordecai, who (to me) has undoubtedly done worse. but what’s even worse is that, if you really look closely— if we made a venn diagram for these two, there’s a large chunk of overlap between them.

(p.s. now that i am proofreading all of this i realise its a bit different from what you asked but nonetheless i hope it captures the complex nature of grief as a theme in lackadaisy, especially when discussing the parallels between mitzi and mordecai)

so let’s break it down.

if someone wanted to read lackadaisy and asked me if there were any main themes that circled around the story— i would say: grief. more specifically, the consequences of untapped grief. mean the story itself starts off with the mysterious and brutal death of atlas may, who was THE big cat behind the lackadaisy. atlas himself was an enigma, and i have mentioned this before in another post. his position within the story bears a lot of similarities to rose quartz as they play the ghastly spouse that haunts the narrative.

however, this is not about atlas, but instead the two people that served as his vessel after his passing:

his wife, mitzi, and his right-hand man, mordecai.

instead of dissecting this theme individually, finding the differences between the two, i thought it would do the analysis more justice to extract it directly from the source material itself. initially i wanted to talk about how this grieving bleeds out onto others around them (e.g. mitzi forging a check from wick, mordecai kneecapping viktor).

let’s take “hamstring” and “monomania” for example, as they both converse over asa’s claims at their lunch. but if you really think about it, it was never about that.

this scene embodies a power struggle between the two. for one, mitzi’s mentions of mordecai’s “obsession” as a deflection. she sees his rigid loyalty as both a flaw and a threat. by framing mordecai as overly fixated, she’s able to position herself as the more pragmatic party who is trying to keep afloat. which is true and mitzi, rightfully, views mordecai as a “relentless former associate.” his meticulous nature, his refusal to let go of the past, and his allegiance to ideals that no longer align with business’ survival paints him as the wildcard to her. then again, it’s hard to take empty words from someone that had abandoned the very concept he claims to protect.

that’s not to say mordecai doesn’t return the sentiment, because he very much does. to him, mitzi’s pragmatism looks more like opportunism, evident in her willingness to bend rules, and in his perspective, betray atlas’ vision to keep the business alive. while she plays the capable leader, that imagery clashes with his perception of her as someone who lacks discipline— possibly bred by the history that mordecai knows her to be atlas’ wife and nobody more. he sees mitzi as culpable in the lackadaisy’s downfall and he makes sure she knows this.

but at the end of the day, they are having this conversation inside the same car. while one might interpret this being the main divergence between the two, we can see a striking commonality in which they are failed actors starring in roles they never wanted.

what do i mean by this? while the dont outwardly acknowledge it, grief survives in this scenario as a subtext. you can tell by the use of dialogue. mitzi’s sarcastic tone and pointed remarks, almost shoving the spotlight towards mordecai, suggests a stage of denial and pain that comes with her grieving over atlas. remember what mordecai said to mitzi in response?

“losses are endemic to this business. you’ve brought them on yourself in your persistence… as though you could bring the remains of atlas’ estate to anything but further disgrace.”

his crticisim of mitzi isn’t just about the state of the lackadaisy, in fact, mordecai subconsciously targets himself for his own inability to move on. mordecai and mitzi are different people, that is no question. but this scene serves as a great analogy that this conversation could very much be happening in their heads. this is a conversation not between two people but between one and oneself.

here’s also another thing to note: their seating arrangement.

whether or not tracy meant for this to be intentional, there’s a lot you can take in this scene in regards to their character. mitzi sits in the passenger seat at the front, where the light is more prominent. it symbolises her active role as the current face of the lackadaisy and the one taking on visible responsibility for its perseverance. however, note that she is still in the passenger seat, not the driver’s— mitzi is losing control, she is struggling to move forward in the wake of atlas’ passing. but she’s still not fully in charge of its trajectory, think of how asa and mordecai looks down on her current position.

occasionally, she’d glance back at mordecai to speak, which definitely shows her discomfort and mistrust towards him, she’s unwilling to fully confront him. and in my opinion, not only does this reveal her vulnerability, this also shows her internal discontent.

mordecai, on the other hand, is sitting behind her (literally AND metaphorically) in the shadows. he sits in the back, detached from the lackadaisy but not completely. he observes mitzi from behind, his direct vision fixed on the back of her head, almost as if he’s reflecting on her choices and her struggles— perhaps… confronted with his own betrayal.

plus, if you’re thinking: what about the holes in the windows? GREAT question. despite how they want to present themselves, be it independent (mitzi) or calculated (mordecai), they’re both incredibly vulnerable individuals.

as they sit in this confined space together, they breathe in the air of their inescapable bond and mutual dependence. their dynamic equal parts antagonistic and deeply intertwined.

[comfymoth]

it’s so nothing but i’m still so enamored with the ‘i love you (more than roier)’ bit. like. the federation cloned quackity but they still couldn’t take the wannabe-homewrecker out of him. the whore tendencies Stay, they are in his dna they’re embedded, i’m sorry, your evil doppelgänger sent to sew chaos is still a needy boyfail it cannot be fixed

[hopesallwegotleft]

"Thank you, Jason. Goodbye, my friend."

The journey of Jason's facial expressions during Salim's goodbye.

[pillowspace]

One time someone paused in the middle of a conversation we were having and just straight up told me that my mannerisms are so unpredictable that it makes it very hard for them to manipulate me, and to this day, that's the most bizarre observation anyone's made of me

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

Alhaitham referring to kaveh in ways which acknowledge his skill, and kaveh perceiving it as sarcasm, even though alhaitham refers to kaveh in the same ways when kaveh isn’t present is driving me a little bit insane - especially what this prompts the player to question!!

When we first meet kaveh in the archon quest the relationship between him and alhaitham is presented to us as “terrible” (courtesy of npc geoff who introduces kaveh’s return to sumeru city), and the cutscene in the house of daena demonstrates what this entails, being that the two cannot see eye to eye, and, seemingly don’t hold each other in high regard.

Alhaitham seemingly refers to kaveh’s genius in a sarcastic light and kaveh claims to despise talking to alhaitham because of his arrogance.

Looking to kaveh’s hangout, however, when the player has a one-on-one with alhaitham, the player gets a glimpse into alhaitham’s personal understanding of kaveh, and with this, his own views on kaveh.

Within this exchange between him and the player, Alhaitham uses Kaveh’s title without sarcasm, sincerely praising him and his skills, elevating him over ‘less skilled’ architects and asserting that Kaveh should have more confidence in his work.

The reason that Alhaitham does not openly praise Kaveh is stated here, being that “admonitions” will serve no purpose due to people being prone to fall into “similar pitfalls”, and that people should have the right to lead their own life, rather than have it interfered upon by others

The reading here is that even if Alhaitham did openly praise Kaveh, no difference would be made in Kaveh’s thinking. Yet, by refraining from praise, and instead goading, by this logic, this also makes no difference. Therefore, the question is raised, ‘why can Alhaitham praise Kaveh to the player, and not to Kaveh himself?’

When Alhaitham praises Kaveh’s work within Kaveh’s hangout it is through there being no record of issues in the reconstruction of port ormos, which is something kaveh states first - in this context, alhaitham notes the work as an “impressive achievement”, which kaveh assents to, as there is no standing in which this can be debated. Kaveh cannot resent a compliment steeped in fact, even from alhaitham

The problem, then, is rooted in alhaitham’s delivery, which relates to their core issue of miscommunication. Referring back to their exchange in the House of Daena, it is observed that Alhaitham uses similar descriptors of Kaveh to Kaveh, similar to the descriptors he uses to the Traveler in Kaveh’s hangout, however, Kaveh perceives these words as sarcasm.

This highlights the miscommunication between them and can aid in answering the question why Alhaitham cannot be open with Kaveh, as he will be misconstrued.

​Through Alhaitham’s repeated elusions to Kaveh when he is not present and his open esteem of Kaveh and his work to the Traveler, Kaveh’s assertion that Alhaitham holds him in a negative light is proved incorrect. This serves to highlight the miscommunication between the two, causing the player to question why they hold such contrasting views of the other.

Clearly, there is a reason why Alhaitham cannot openly express his regard of Kaveh to Kaveh, but this reason is obscure to both kaveh and the player.

In terms of queer subtext it’s pretty interesting that alhaitham’s high regard for kaveh is shown within the surface text and yet the reason for this secrecy is never made explicit within the story’s surface and is only to be inferred from alhaitham’s and kaveh’s character stories.

In terms of the two functioning as mirrors, the fact that the knowledge that alhaitham cannot outright compliment kaveh 1) is not only due to their past argument and lost friendship and 2) is also due to his awareness that kaveh cannot accept goodwill, is only obtainable by reading both kaveh and alhaitham’s character stories shows how intertwined they are as characters - you cannot fully understand one without the other

(Update: For more analyses like this, the essay this is taken from is now uploaded! It can be accessed here and here as as a pdf <3)