— David Cronenberg, Consumed

Another work by Alessia Pelonzi. Wonderful.

https://www.instagram.com/alessiapelonzi?igsh=bDZtczJiZ2t5N3pu

NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

Solo Leveling | ☆☆☆1/2

Hi! I binged seasons one and two of Solo Leveling last night and I have to give kudos to the animation team that carried the entire story. Solo Leveling has been hyped up for me for a long time, especially in a family who watches anime, but I was surprised when the show kind of fell flat. I LOVE an underdog story and I really loved how Sung Jinwoo powered up throughout season one, but after he became stronger it just kind of...becomes a bit boring plot wise.

Still, I can't deny that the show is addicting. I couldn't stop watching because I loved the amazingly animated fight scenes and it's always really entertaining to see the mc beat up bad guys. It just gets to a point where the bad guys are just there to make Jinwoo look good and the other powerful main/side characters are there to just marvel at Jinwoo's power.

I was watching it with my sibling and he says, "This is just aura leveling."

And oh my GOD, it really is just aura leveling. Everyone is fighting each other's auras and Jinwoo becomes edgier and edgier throughout the anime. Sometimes scenes would feel corny because you know that Jinwoo is going to win, but he starts screaming and yelling about how he'll never lose. Really, the fatal flaw with this anime is that we know he's going to win and become even more ridiculously strong, so his epic comebacks end up feeling a little bit over the top.

just had a feeling throughout the show that Solo Leveling was written by someone who wanted to feel really cool

Still, the world building is VERY interesting. I was confused in the beginning of the show because there were people with medieval armor fighting dungeons, but then it cuts to modern city scenes. The explanation of the gates popping up in random parts of the city is so cool, especially when we learn that the world relies on Hunters to keep them safe.

Then, there's the politics surrounding hunting that really fascinate me. Especially, when a character says that S-rank hunters are pretty much above the law. I literally said, "WHAT?!" out loud. It makes sense because hunting is a relatively young business, but it was shocking nonetheless. I could go more into this, but there's just too much to analyze and not enough room.

In the end, Solo Leveling just felt like a lot of mc dick-stroking and aura maxxing with a smidgen of plot.

Hey, this wasn't me trying to yuck your yum though. People prefer shows where the mc is a total badass and I respect that. Personally, I just prefer a more flawed main character who loses and rises back up. I want to feel and believe the desperation of Sung Jinwoo, but when all he does is win, it's hard to cheer him on.

I'm really enjoying what little plot I'm getting though and I can't wait for Jinwoo to solve the mystery of the "System" keeping him alive and the mysterious monsters that glitch and seem to have a past. Who knows, maybe it'll save the show for me and Solo Leveling will get a higher rating!

Anyways, we left off on a cliffhanger, so I'm excited for the next episode to come out! I have a feeling though that Jinwoo is going to save the day...again...and do it relatively easily...and people are going to stare in awe at him and main characters are going to be reduced to damsels in distress...and so on and so on until the show ends...

CHILTON AND HIS FUCKING TOTEM OF UNDYING HOW TF ARE YOU ALIVE

wait, I have a good prompt: HANNIGRAM ROADTRIP!

The drive stretches long, roads unfurling like ribbons of asphalt, the scenery shifting in slow gradients of green and gold. The car hums beneath them, the low sound of the engine steady, hypnotic. Will drives, one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on his thigh, until Hannibal reaches over and places his own hand on top of it, fingers curling slightly, a quiet claim.

Half an hour later, they pass a field.

“Look. A cow," Hannibal notes, with complete sincerity.

Will side-eyes him. “Yeah. We have a lot of those.”

Another few miles. More cows.

“Look,” Hannibal says again, perfectly calm. “A cow.”

Will exhales slowly through his nose. “Hannibal.”

More cows.

“A cow.”

Will groans, running a hand down his face. “If you say that one more time, I’m pulling over and leaving you with them.”

Somewhere along a long stretch of road, they stop at a tiny roadside diner.

Will stirs his coffee, watching Hannibal inspect his plate with all the enthusiasm of a man deciphering hieroglyphs.

“Something wrong with your eggs?”

Hannibal exhales delicately. “They appear to have been cooked aggressively.”

Will laughs. “Yeah, I’m sure you were real delicate with the ones at your house.”

Hannibal spears a piece with his fork. “I raise chickens with dignity, Will.”

Will leans back in his seat, grinning. “What, did you give them poetry lessons before you butchered them?”

Hannibal considers this. “Not explicitly.”

The road before them seems endless and golden, flickering with mirages in the heat. The car is filled with a comfortable hum, the engine, the low static of the radio, and the occasional sound of Will sipping from a gas station coffee that is, against all odds, actually good.

“Look,” Hannibal says, pointing. “A cow.”

Will grits his teeth. “I swear to God, if you—”

They pass another one.

Hannibal: “A cow.”

Will grips the wheel, exhaling.

Another field.

“Several cows.”

Will groans loudly, slumping forward over the steering wheel. “Hannibal, I swear on all things holy—”

Hannibal, watching him suffer, smiles contentedly to himself.

An hour later, they pull into a gas station in the middle of nowhere. It’s the kind of place that sells both cigarettes and questionable taxidermy.

Hannibal is inside, scrutinizing the snack aisle as though choosing fine wine, when Will grabs two bags of gummy worms and a Red Bull from the fridge.

Hannibal looks at him with mild disapproval. “You insist on fueling yourself exclusively with artificial flavors.”

Will shrugs. “And you insist on standing in front of the jerky display like a serial killer deciding which part of the human body to eat first.”

Hannibal glances at the jerky in his hand. Then at Will. Then back at the jerky.

Will narrows his eyes. “You don’t have to answer that.”

Hannibal places the jerky in their basket anyway.

Somewhere in the winding backroads, with the windows down and the scent of wild grass drifting in, Will takes one hand off the wheel and slides it over Hannibal’s knee.

Hannibal doesn’t say anything, just rests his own hand over Will’s, tracing absentminded patterns along the back of it.

They don’t talk for a while. Just the sound of tires on gravel, wind rustling through the trees, the occasional flicker of the radio catching static.

Then Hannibal murmurs, “If I had met you earlier, do you think we would have taken a trip like this?”

Will glances at him. “You mean before the murders?”

Hannibal smirks, turning his hand over to lace their fingers together. “Before the murders.”

Will hums, thinking. Then he squeezes Hannibal’s hand. “Yeah.” A pause. “Except you would’ve still pointed out every cow.”

Eventually, after too many hours in the car, Will sighs, pulling into the parking lot of a roadside motel.

“We stopping here?” Hannibal asks.

Will turns off the ignition, groaning as he stretches his arms. “Yeah. My back is 80 years old, and I’m not sleeping in this damn car.”

Hannibal reaches over and gently kneads the back of Will’s neck with his fingers. It’s a slow, methodical movement, easing out the tension. Will exhales deeply, tilting his head into the touch.

“Keep doing that,” he mutters. “Might even forgive you for the cow thing.”

Hannibal presses a kiss to his temple, warm and lingering.

Later, when they’re lying in bed, Will half-asleep with Hannibal curled against him, warm and steady, Will mumbles, “Kinda nice, just driving with you.”

Hannibal smiles against his shoulder. “We should do it more often.”

Will huffs out a quiet laugh. “Maybe somewhere with fewer cows.”

Hannibal, already drifting off, murmurs, “Unacceptable.”

Thinking of Hannibal being the only provider for Will after the fall.

He couldn't provide for Mischa. Couldn't keep Mischa's replacement to provide for, either. Now that he has Will, there won't be anything Will wants that he can't get. Anything at all.

Why do you think Will and Hannibal both went through scarcity but relate so differently to money? (love your blog)

Will grew up poor, but there is no indication that he suffered from literal hunger. More likely, he lived in a state of constant limitation, having enough for basic sustenance and shelter but little beyond that. His poverty was not one of extreme deprivation but of restriction, of never being able to afford more than the essentials. Later in life, however, Will gained financial security through his professional roles...his work as an FBI consultant, his teaching position, and even as an author of a book used in official training. By the time we see him in the show, he is far from poor; in fact, he has amassed significant wealth. Yet his attitude toward money is cautious, even frugal. This is a common trait in those who grow up without financial security. Money is not seen as something to be indulged in but as something to be preserved. The fear of losing it lingers, and so he is unlikely to splurge, preferring comfort over excess, stability over extravagance.

Hannibal’s trajectory, by contrast, is one of dramatic extremes. He was born into wealth, lost it in an incredibly brief yet profoundly traumatic period of scarcity, and then regained it, never to lose it again. The nature of his deprivation was far more intense than Will’s, his suffering was not just financial but existential, marked by starvation, war, and the destruction of his entire world. This kind of scarcity often breeds an obsession with indulgence rather than security. Those who experience such extreme deprivation, especially those who later come into great wealth, frequently develop compulsions toward excess, seeking to consume, possess, and experience everything available to them as a way to compensate for past lack. Hannibal, with his tastes, opulent lifestyle, and relentless pursuit of pleasure, embodies this tendency. He doesn't just enjoy luxury, he devours it, making an art form out of indulgence itself.

This contrast in their financial psychology also mirrors their deeper fears. Hannibal’s greatest fear is the loss of control, but paradoxically, he has a repressed desire to relinquish it. His indulgences, his love of fine dining, extravagant possessions, and excessive refinement, serve as an outlet for this tension, a "safe" way for him to surrender control without ever truly doing so. He allows himself to indulge because he remains the master of his own excess.

Will, on the other hand, fears losing his mind. His life is not built around control in the same way Hannibal’s is, but rather around creating an environment that minimizes risk. He does not need extravagance, he needs stability, predictability, a life free from unnecessary variables. His frugality is not just financial but existential; he seeks security, not pleasure, and constructs his world accordingly. His job then is his way of indulging in risk.

In the end, their differing relationships with wealth reflect the deeper structures of their personalities. Hannibal, ever-consuming, transforming indulgence into control, and Will, always conserving, ensuring he never steps too far into uncertainty.