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industriallyinsecure · 3 years

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Since this is a shitpost hell I hope you hear me out. What do you think would happen if la squadra's darling, wanting a pet but not getting one (or being allergic to them), started treating them like a pet occasionally? Not in a weird fetish way but rather giving head pats, offering them to rest on their lap while they read, watch something or nap or feeding them a snack when they seem to be doing good. Like a silent companion type of affection?

*Zaps them all with a catboy laser* problem solved

With Sorbet and Gelato you're most likely to be treated like a pet, so you’d probably pick up on their love language too. Gelato loves physical affection while Sorbet is happy with quietly sitting next to you while the TV is on. There’s lots of love to go around, and plenty of loving head pats and back scratches for the three of you. Please give them both the same amount of attention, though. You’ll be accused of favoritism, and Gelato has a rather nasty jealous streak. Sorbet is far more understanding and doesn’t complain when you give Gelato more domestic sweetness than him. Gelato is needy, but he’s more than happy to let his tesorino take his share of your affection.

Risotto isn’t a cuddler. Even though he was deprived of it as a child, he still didn’t force you to touch him or force you to let him hold you. It was already like living with a cat in a sense. He tended to watch from afar, eyes fixed on your every move. It’s when you called him over to rest in your lap that his opinion changed. You took his hat and put it on, tracing his buzzed undercut and playing with his messy mop of snowy hair. It would’ve been more therapeutic if he hadn’t locked up and stiffened when you did it. Gradually, he came around to having a little bit of loving attention, but always shied away when he had enough. In an odd way, it was cute. A big giant killer who had kidnapped you was shy about being loved on. On days where he was particularly stressed or didn’t want to be touched because he was still on high alert, you’d attempt to stand on a surface to make yourself taller and gently pat his head.

Ghiaccio is already pretty much like a cat. He’s temperamental, only lets you touch him on his terms, and is very aloof. There’s a high chance he already rests his head in your lap after a long day, but you gently combing through his curls was new, and surprisingly not unwelcome. He did get a little pissy when you started to gently rub his ears when he ranted though. He looked it up the day before and found it was a way to soothe anxiety and promptly started denying that he was anxious in any way and didn’t need your comfort. It was...tense, to say the least, when he put his head in your lap the next time. Of course, growing used to your gentle petting, he was miffed when you didn’t give him the attention that he wanted. He starts to headbutt and place your hand on his head. Absolutely do NOT feed him anything! Even as a joke! He might bite you.

Melone loves it!! He’s a very big believer in physical affection and will melt in your arms if you stroke his back while he works. And he’ll be over the moon if you play with his hair! His favorite is if you two are wrapped up in warm blankets with a rom-com or comedy movie on so he can snuggle close and be loved on. One of his favorite cheesy couple things to do is to feed each other little bites of things. If he can get away with it, he’ll rest his head in your palm and just smile at you. Likely to return your mannerisms and love all over you if you let him. But if you don’t, he’ll whine about you not being fair and being a tease. You’ve made your bed, so now you have to lie in it, next to a very cuddly Melone. Make remarks about him being like a cat at your own risk.

Prosciutto is also very catlike. He won’t let you touch his head, he doesn’t like to curl up with you (even in private), and hates being “infantilized” as he calls it. Poor man is so touch starved that his definition of infantilize is doing normal lovey dovey couple stuff like feeding each other small bites of food and such. Yet he still loves the attention, even if he’s being prissy about it. He likes to let you indulge in your little petting for a while before abruptly stopping you with his hand when he’s had enough. Not that he’ll ever admit, but he likes it when you gently undo his hair. He enjoys being pampered, but only when he wants the pampering, which isn’t very often. Once in a while he’ll let you snuggle up to him and stroke and pet his chest, back, etc.. Eventually you do get to feed him some charcuterie (not prosciutto though because that’s cannibalism). All in all he’s very good about letting you know when he wants attention and when he wants to admire you from the balcony while he lights up another cigarette.

Pesci is used to being manhandled by Prosciutto, so your gentle touches startled him at first. He loves it when you pat his head and poke his cheeks. Snuggle with him, please. Little spoon or big spoon, he doesn’t care. And please, please, please, pat his head!! He likes to have his hair gently ruffled and his cheeks squished. Any sort of positive attention he will appreciate and love. It only fuels his passion and convinces him that taking you was the right decision. He’s your sweet little fish, no matter what happens.

Illuso only allows you to play with his hair if he’s fresh out of the shower or if he’s feeling generous that day. For lack of better words, Illuso is an attention whore but is also very specific about the attention he gets. He likes to be verbally praised and only lets you touch him if he wants to be touched. That being said, there’s a reason the center of his jacket is cut out. He likes to have you stroke and caress his chest and tell him he’s handsome. Secretly, he wants you to fight back and insist on pampering him because he’s just that type of person. If you give in to his secret desire, prepare to have it thrown back in your face when you(inevitably) fight him.

Formaggio is the type to already put his head in your lap and beg for love. He and Melone are the biggest lovers and givers of affection, except Formaggio actively seeks out anything he can get. Putting his head in your lap, snuggling close in bed, pressing up against you from behind; there’s not much he won’t do for just the slightest touch. He melts in your arms if you gently scratch his head or pet him. His pet names for you will always outweight your pet-treatment of him, though. Such names include: hunny bunny, snuggle bug, sugar pie. All in all, it’s pretty wholesome if you look over the fact that he’s forced you into a relationship.

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dirt-jpg · 6 years

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And I Am Consumed By Love For Peter Bernadone

#my blog: [shitpost about being gay] [art] [shitpost about being gay]#yeah i love him tho i have this universe in my head where peter and will own a farm together and alana and margot have some horses there #and alana does therapy with kids with them and margot just likes 2 take care of them and sometimes ride them n stuff #and like its therapeutic for her too but not like actual therapy its just cathartic #i have mixed feelings about margot actually pursuing therapy- like im all for it 100% i want her 2 b happy and get over her past #i just can never decide whether thats something she would do or not #anyway peter and will live on their farm in the middle of nowhere together and they eat dinner together every night #and they get real comfy w each other and its a Very Good Fucken Friendship #technically in my head this is before h*nnibal ever like comes into their life which idk how they meet if they dont have him as a reason 2 #-meet #except like i have def also thought about them meeting as teens but thats not relevant right now #basically what i mean by it is that abigail isnt technically in this verse bc she doesnt have any connection 2 will at all #i mean lets be real shes probably either dead or killed her dad but like whatever i dont wanna think about that #so its just like. will and peter and margot and alana on tuesdays and thursdays #and its So Fucking Happy ok and they live by a lake i forgot to mention that

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hungry-skeleton · 2 years

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Shitposting with OCS is very therapeutic even though no one cares lol

#my art #my artwork #Oc #OCS #original character #original characters #Shitpost

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holy-heck-i-love-my-fo · 3 years

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9 for that AU ask with all your Romantic F/Os? Sounds interesting!

thanks so much for the ask!!! :)! <3!

9. If you have multiple f/os (romantic, platonic, anything), imagine them making or joining a Discord server or a group chat about you or your source. Who gushes, who shares art and fics, who analyses everything, who sends memes?

aslgjkhgkj this is kinda a long one, but this was really fun to do askdjlgjhg.

Arthur: mostly lurks. doesn’t really know how Discord works, so he just kinda reads what everyone else has to say, and ignores the hundreds of notifications that pile up.

Saeran: the guy that draws godlike fanart in like 10 minutes. most of it is of me. also sometimes will just talk about how cool he finds the designs. tends to be kinda friendly in the chat, but doesn’t talk much.

Miku: has done covers of both the op and the ed, loves to talk about how much she loves me and how I’m her favorite character. has a bunch of stickers of me that she sticks everywhere and then enthusiastically posts pictures of. she also likes to put heart stickers with them, or get stickers of me with hearts.

the rest under the cut! :)! <3!

Akko: super enthusiastic. gushing like 24/7 about how much she loves me and stuff. she just openly links her selfship blog and tells everyone else it would mean a lot to her if they followed. she likes sending internet hugs and comforting anyone when they’re down.

Yuri: lurks, but knows exactly how Discord works. occasionally sends a meme to the memes channel. feels very proud of himself when people keyboard smash in response.

Knives: the wholesome sweet one. like always tells everyone else how great their stuff is, uses a bunch of smiley faces and hearts, and more. she also sometimes draws things and happily shows them off to everyone.

Sharpay: loves to be the center of attention. talks every time that she can. has made an English cover of the op and ed. drags Ryan into a lot of things, since he’s a little nervous to just join out of nowhere.

Lio: joined, dropped his intro, didn’t talk for like a year, when he talked, just gave the most out there excuse for why he was silent. it turned out his excuse was true.

Teru: a helper on the server and has to say “hey guys! can we take it down a notch? we wanna keep everything friendly haha.” quite a lot. gets along pretty well with everyone. has a link in promos to his academia Tumblr.

Kai: the owner of the server. practically like a father figure to everyone. asks if people finished their homework, offers life advice, and more. also politely posts screenshots of me in the screenies channel and tells everyone how pleasant, soothing, and therapeutic he finds the anime.

Keiji: literally owns the memes channel. like makes shitposts 24/7. links to his YouTube in promos. his YouTube is like 99% just shitposts about the show, and 1% speedpaints.

Sou: “haha everyone go check out my essay on why Parker’s a queer-coded character. I know it’s 5000 words. it’s on my main Tumblr. everyone go check it out.”, has made so many theories. when I got confirmed queer he literally screamed about it for like ever.

Arisa: I just watch it for the magical boys! I don’t like... like any of the characters or anything. super privative about everything relating to her affection to me. has used the “oh Parker we’re really in it now” meme so many times.

Alex: liked the anime so much that he made his grandparents watch it, too. pretty upbeat. likes to tell everyone about how his grandparents reacted to scenes. “I’m so glad to have this server because literally no-one I know irl knows about this show.”

Kent: lurks. just lurks. like has probably posted his intro and that’s about it. sometimes reacts with hearts to pictures of me and messages that he likes.

Geordo: his parents buy him like every piece of merch and he shows them off to everyone once he gets them. in the merch channel, he is king. if anyone wants to know whether something off of any of the merch lines looks good or is good quality or how big it is, they check in with Geordo, because he always owns it.

Light: gives everyone homework help, talks about how important of a character I am, goes on like rants about his theories in the theories channel.

Misa: the other wholesome sweet one. became super good friends with Knives. sends a bunch of supportive wholesome memes in the memes channel.

Hayasaka: “please @ me in every image of Parker sent. I’ll look at them on my lunch break.” like severely overworked, and everyone’s like “aren’t you,,,,, not on your lunch break right now?” and he’s like “shhh don’t tell my boss.” has a coffee mug with a picture of me on it that he shows off every chance he gets.

Ryan: gets dragged into talking by Sharpay. has ALSO made covers of the op and ed. knows the entire dance routine in the ending theme by heart. does a lot of cosplays.

Victor: likes things other people made and shows off things he made. loves using the pets channel to show off his dog, Wick. everyone oohs and ahs over him.

Mikoto: “let’s get along, everyone! :D!”. uses a bunch of exclamation points and smiley faces and hearts. makes a lot of theories about me and likes to talk to the theory makers about like what they think comes next and what they think my character’s like. super positive and likes to make sure everyone’s okay.

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razorblade180 · 4 years

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So a few questions here:

What has been your favorite topic to write about?

What topic were you excited to write about from the very start?

What topic were you more or less indifferent about, but grew more invested as you went on?

What topic has been the most difficult to write for whatever reason?

Are there any topics that you haven’t written about yet, but really want to?

Sunshower and Twin snowflakes have been very cathartic to write for me. Something about it just feels very therapeutic and calming. So it might be my favorite.

Lasting Embers was something I was very excited about and I’m happy with the way it turned out. The idea of Yujin was immediately followed up with Yang not being in her life. It was too good not to pass up. Crumbling Purity was another good one

I was indifferent about We All Fell becoming a full on story. I only made the first couple posts because I was upset, but everyone wanted more. I eventually got into it.

The Real You and Shackles. The first one is because my silent knight obsession burned out like a match so it was difficult to back into the headspace. I’m passionate about Shackles, but much like Frozen Blood, it’s hard to motivate myself to write a thing when I know it will barely get read. Writing what you love is most important for sure, but seeing 6 notes is a buzz kill for something that takes awhile to write. A shitpost I make can get 200 notes and takes me 5 minutes 💀

I’m very excited for that Lasting Ember sequel, as well as the actual Rosebud story. I’m ready to start going nuts in a lot of my stories honestly. The set up for it just takes a long time.

#rwby #ask me stuff

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magnys-voss · 4 years

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TW- Su*cide and Mental Health . . . . I need to talk about what’s been going on with me for the past several months. My depression and anxiety have consumed me to the point of wishing to no longer want to exist. This past Monday I had a mental break down and I had plans to end my life. Thankfully my partner James and my previous counselor were there for me and stopped me before I went through with anything. I went to the hospital and I stayed at the access center for five days to be monitored and helped through a very dark period in my life. At one of the lowest points in my stay when I’d lost all my will to go on I remembered a line from a tumblr shitpost of all things that made me pause “you cannot kill me in a way that matters”. In a way I saw my true self saying this to myself, if that makes any sense. Wishing to be dead won’t erase the fact that I will continue to live in the minds of my loved ones and haunt their thoughts with “what if’s”and “if only’s”. Suicide can’t wipe one’s existence from the world, it’s going to affect someone somewhere. In a sense I will continue in some shape or form that is unpleasant and painful to those around me if I end my life. So then I made this vent piece. It’s not my usual kind of work and I had only pencils and crayons and no erasers to create it but there’s something raw to it that satisfies me but I do plan on making a larger piece of it. It was a sort of awakening while creating this that gave me hope for my future. I will live on but by my own terms and not by what anyone else’s opinions are of what I should do. . . . I’m grateful for all the support from my friends and the staff at the hospital. I’m in recovery right now and just taking things one day at a time. I’m not seeking sympathy right now this was just therapeutic to face the reality of where I’m at so far and I wanted to share my art. I think it’s also important to discuss mental health and to be frank about how ugly it gets. But there is hope and always more hidden pathways on your journey that others can see clearly while you may not, just reach out and someone will be there to help you. . . . #suicideprevention #mentalhealthawareness #suicideawarness https://www.instagram.com/p/CGvQV68A1Z8/?igshid=js47hbpwv73o

#suicideprevention #mentalhealthawareness #suicideawarness

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submalevolentgrace · 3 years

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i’m calling it now, if that oopsie woopsie shitposts gets half the attention my death stranding one did, i am going to get accused of minimizing the very serious of therapeutic confessing of guilt or something

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larksinging · 5 years

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i might as well go ahead and post this tonight and stop fussing about it. a while back @rorykillmore suggested “margot/alana but killing eve au” as a shitpost but the idea kind of stuck with me so. here you go

this is kind of tonally a mess because how do you even balance those two tones, stuff has been condensed for time, and characters are assigned kind of haphazardly but.... (shrug.jpg) enjoy??? this is just part one, the rest will come. later. uhh trigger warning for just the stuff you’d expect

heres the ao3 crosspost

Beverly leans over to her conspiratorially. “Twenty bucks said it was one of the victim’s dads.”

Alana thinks she should be offended, but she’s too absorbed in the idea. “No, it was definitely a woman.”

“Really?” Bev looks at her. “Alright. I’ll take that bet.”

It’s not that Margot doesn’t have the nerve to kill. In fact, that’s the only part of this equation she really has down. After all, there are worse things than killing. And she’ll do what she has to do.

Whatever stops her from killing Mason isn’t the act itself. Maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s some twisted ounce of familial loyalty from the most fucked up part of her psyche. Maybe it’s a lack of practice. But it’s definitely not the idea of killing.

Mason doesn’t forgive her. Or rather, he doesn’t consider her enough of a person to be angry, so forgiveness isn’t necessary. He just sends her off to a psychiatrist. He even pretends to let her pick one.

On first impression, Dr. Lecter is like any other psychiatrist. She plans to scare him by being too honest, makes an internal bet with herself how long before he refers her. So color her shocked when, in the first sessions, he tells her that killing Mason would’ve been therapeutic.

A couple sessions later, she reveals that pesky little detail in the will, and why killing Mason is a bad idea. Hannibal just looks at her with his inscrutable eyes.

“You could make a life outside the Verger fortune,” He suggests.

She pretends to pause thoughtfully. “Mason would have me followed if I tried to run.”

“Surely you can come up with a way around that.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Things that are worth it rarely are,” Hannibal says with a silent smile in his voice.

One day, it builds up again. After one of her sessions, she drives home with murder on the mind. She creeps up the stairs towards his bedroom, a knife in one hand and the intention to butcher him like his precious pigs weighing heavy on her. The sound muffled voices, deep and dark against Mason’s sickly bright laugh, kills her nerve.

Margot can’t take his guests, if she could even take her brother. She shuts down before she can feel the sting of defeat, and instead hastily packs her bags before Mason can notice.

When she gets to driveway, Hannibal’s standing there.

“You couldn’t do it,” He remarks as he notices the clean knife still in her fist. “That’s alright. Every skill requires some practice to build up confidence.”

She just stares at him.

“You seem desperate. Do you want a new life, Margot? ” He smiles without his eyes. “We’ll have to fake your death first. No worries. It’s quite simple.”

Hannibal holds out a hand in a silent offer and, for once, Margot doesn’t have the urge to bite. Not him, at least.

The Verger legacy is built upon slaughter. Really, she’s just going into the family business.

Her new life isn’t what most people would consider pleasant, but it’s much better. Her job comes easily to her, as she’s already practiced in all the compartmentalization she needs. She uses her money to rent a big apartment and buy fancy dresses. On her days off, she finds pretty girls at bars to occupy her, even if she sends them away half the time.

Her only real friend is Hannibal, and even then, he’s more of a work friend. She finds him weird, and pretentious, and often condescending. She’s pretty sure he finds her spoiled and insolent. Of course, nobody in the killing business is all the pleasant.

The day goes like any other: she’s lounging on her couch when Hannibal knocks, and then lets himself in. He invites her to dinner, she politely refuses, he hands her a postcard with the details are hidden in code.

“Your train leaves later tonight,” He says curtly.

“What’s the matter? Ignored by your favorite again?” She doesn’t actually know the name of his favorite, but she knows it’s not her, and she knows Hannibal gets sulky about him. It’s an easy target.

“It’s not very becoming to pry, Margot.” The alias she picked is Magnolia, which is pretentious and stupid but she might as well indulge if she’s an assassin, but it’s hard to get used to it when he won’t even call her that.

“I heard he enjoys fishing. Do you cook fish as well as you cook... pork?”

He doesn’t respond, as if he doesn’t want to sink to her level. She’ll consider it a win anyways. “I think you’ll enjoy this one,” Hannibal says, and leaves.

Sure enough, when she looks up the mark, it’s some asshole father. Those are some of her favorites. One of theirs gone rogue and turned to serial killing girls who look like his daughter. Just the thing to cheer her up.

Normally Alana doesn’t do this sort of thing. She defers politely to the FBI when she needs, gives Jack the referrals he needs. It’s what she did with Will, and with Hannibal. But this time he’d asked her to come in for a witness, poor daughter of a victim, he could use someone to keep an eye on her just until someone figures out where to send her.

Of course, she can smell ulterior intentions a mile away. Jack has a way of doing that. But sure -- she doesn’t doubt the girl could use some help.

When she actually stops by, Jack manages to just happen on catching her in the hallway. While she’s here, maybe she could help out? He could use another opinion on this case, if she could just take a crack at profiling.

Alana represses a sigh, figure it’ll give Will a break from this sort of thing, and follows Jack to where he’s got the evidence put up. Will’s not there, good, but the room isn’t empty -- Hannibal’s looking it over too, and Beverly and the boys are already in a hum of speculative conversation.

It’s a strange case, to be sure. Dying had outed the victim as a serial killer they’d been tracking. She can’t say she’s too broken up about his death, but the professionalism of the kill is alarming. Almost in broad daylight.

Beverly leans over to her conspiratorially. “Twenty bucks said it was one of the victim’s dads.”

Alana thinks she should be offended, but she’s too absorbed in the idea. “No, it was definitely a woman.”

“Really?” Bev looks at her. “Alright. I’ll take that bet.”

Then she realizes the room has fallen silent and turned to them. Jack and Hannibal both watch her. “What did you say?” Jack asks.

“That the killer was a woman.” She fights back a defensive streak. “He was targeting young women. If the killer matched his victim profile, he’d be too busy thinking of her as prey to consider her a threat.”

“Interesting theory,” says Hannibal.

The pay from her last job had gone to some luxurious new sheets. Well, in part -- she’d had to use part of her advance to buy a new outfit. She needed to blend in at the opera, after all. Good thing she hadn’t gotten blood on it. Margot rewards herself by sprawling out on her bed like a cat.

Hannibal knocks, enters, and doesn’t bother to invite her to dinner. She sits up and waits for the lecture.

“The bad news is that your stunt with the Minnesota Shrike has drawn the attention of the FBI.”

“Is that what they’re calling him?” Margot doesn’t bother to sound worried.

“The worst news is that your stunt at the opera left a witness.” He waits the right amount of seconds to try and fish a reaction out of her. She doesn’t rise to the bait. “It seems our cello player had a friend.”

“Unfortunate.”

“You need to be more careful, Margot,” Hannibal chides, “Or they’re going to catch you.”

“They won’t. I’m rather good.”

“They might.” He pulls a postcard out of his jacket. “The witness is staying at a hospital overnight. It’s a chance for some spring cleaning.” He glances around her apartment. “You could certainly use some.”

As if she could care any less about his veiled digs at her style. Good thing she’s never tried to cook for him. “I haven’t had time to do much organization. I’ve been too busy, you see.”

Hannibal isn’t amused. He begins to leave, but pauses a few steps away from the door. “Oh, and Margot?” “Hm?” “Make it look like a suicide.”

“It’s a shame about your theory,” Hannibal says without looking at her as Jack’s pouring over the Tobias Budge case. “The CCTV came in. The killer was clearly a man.”

“What?” Alana turns to look at him, and then to Jack. “Yesterday you told me there was no CCTV.”

“It must have come in yesterday,” Jack says, clearly disinterested. “I told Will to look it over if it did. I assume he told Dr. Lecter here.”

“It was a good guess,” Hannibal says with a smile. “But it occurred near the hospital where Dr. Chilton works, didn’t it? You know how the good doctor feels about maintaining surveillance.”

“Aren’t you going to take a look at it yourself, Jack?” None of this is sitting right with her. She can’t quite put her finger on it. “If this is related to the opera case--”

“Not unless there’s footage from the opera house too,” He responds curtly. “There’s not proof they’re connected. I’m more worried about maintaining protective custody for the main witness.”

Alana remembers distinctly Will mentioning the witness being admitted to the hospital. The same one Abigail’s at. “I’m going to go check up on Abigail,” She says.

“Should we have brought flowers or... something?” Abigail glances over at her as Alana slows to a stop outside the hospital room.

“That’s-- a good idea,” She replies. It’s not like her for these things to slip her mind. It’s a bad sign when a serial killer’s daughter is more on point with social niceties than her. Especially since poor Franklyn laying in the hospital bed in the next room doesn’t have any flowers or balloons or anything to indicate having been visited, save for the agents providing protection. “Why don’t you go see what you can find?”

Abigail shuffles off to find a store or at least a vending machine, and Alana opts to stop by the restroom to try and clear her head a bit.

Alana runs her hands through her hair and wonders what the hell she’s even doing here. If Jack hadn’t seemed so eager to drop it, would she care so much? She stares at her reflection in the mirror as if it will answer.

Maybe it’s her own restlessness. She senses a change in the air lately that she can’t recognize. The feeling gripes her and as an idle reflex she pauses halfway through running her hand through her hair to imagine how it would look with a haircut.

A woman emerges just then from one of the stalls and takes her place at the only other mirror, only a few feet away. They catch each other’s gaze in the corner of their eyes and look at each other.

There’s something striking about this woman, even if she’s just in nurse scrubs. If Alana’s a flower in the middle of winter, all gentle curling against the sharp edge of snow, then this woman is like a cherry tree just after the bloom. The ghost of something soft and beautiful.

Alana’s too caught up in feeling poetic to look away. The stranger doesn’t either. “Are you alright?” She asks, though it’s not like she’s not staring too.

The woman doesn’t answer. Her eyes catch where Alana’s hand is still lingering in her hair.

“Cut it short,” She encourages, and then leaves the room as if she was never there.

Of course, Alana doesn’t think much about it after she gets the call from Beverly that there was no CCTV and the bloodbath she walks out into only moments later.

Everything from there is a bit of a blur. People sit her down at clean tables in dim rooms and tell her the facts like she doesn’t know. Five people dead, including the witness, Abigail was in danger, what were you thinking? Jack tells her in his professionally gentle voice that you won’t be advising on this case anymore, and Hannibal adds maybe you should stop seeing patients for a while. Of course. Of course.

It’s not until Jack shows up at her doorstep, well after dark, that things come into focus. Not that it makes any more sense.

“Do you need anything at the store?” He stands awkwardly on the step, a little too close to be polite. “Maybe some milk?”

“What?”

Jack just smiles and dips his head to indicated that she should follow. Alana fumbles her keys locking the door and follows him in a half-daze to the nearby market. They make it to the dairy isle and Jack leans against a shelf, idly pawing a carton of milk.

“What is this actually about?” Alana has the composure to ask.

He doesn’t answer immediately. “I can’t officially condone you continuing the investigation,” He says. “But if you’re still interested, maybe there’s another option.”

“Interested -- in our killer? Shouldn’t you be talking to Will, or literally anyone else?”

“You were onto something,” He says evenly. “I need that kind of intuitive. Especially when I’m limited in what I can do. I need you, Alana.”

This is probably a mistake, but she writes down the address he gives her anyway. It’s barely been 24 hours and she’s already restless.

Margot’s woken up by the sound of a polite but impatient knock. She’s already out of bed by the time the woman next to her (whatever her name is) groans. And when she gets to the door, Hannibal stands there and looks dismissively between the clothes she’d thrown on and the bed.

“Am I interrupting something?” He taunts. He catches her guest’s eye, and Margot glances back just enough to shoo her along. The woman hurried snatches up her belongings and awkwardly slinks out of the apartment. She glances back at Margot. Margot doesn’t bother to look at her.

“No,” She answers flatly. “Would you like to come in.”

Hannibal wanders into her kitchen to be safely away from the door and any curious eavesdroppers. “You were supposed to make the hospital look like a suicide,” He remarks.

“Didn’t it?” She’s already pouring herself coffee.

“So he slit his throat and removed his kidneys by himself?”

“Those were a gift. They’re in the back of the freezer, by the way. You seemed like you could use a good dinner party to cheer you up.”

“How kind of you,” He doesn’t sound amused. “I think you should take a break.”

Margot freezes. She looks up at him. “What?”

“You’ve been rather reckless lately.” Hannibal paces slowly over to the fridge to check her ‘gift’. “Do you have any idea what might have motivated you to act that way?”

Therapist-talk is only for when he’s feeling particularly dismissive and expecting her to be volatile. Well, fine. She can push back.

“I’m feeling restless,” She drawls and hops up to sit on her counter. “Maybe I need a vacation. Maryland’s supposed to be lovely this time of year.”

“Margot.” His tone is measured. “All in due time.”

“It’s been years,” She snaps. “There has to be some way that Mason’s death would benefit them, I could just stop by and--”

“Patience, Margot,” He says in that careful way that is very distinctly a threat. “You’ll never get what you want if you don’t behave.”

Honestly, Margot’s become tempted to slit the throat of everyone who tells her to behave. But the retort dies on her tongue and she simply stews in her fury while he paces closer, smug as ever, and pulls out a postcard.

“If you can do this with some subtlety, there will be no reason to worry.” She takes it stiffly from him. He pauses and backtracks to the fridge. “My sincerest thanks for the meat. Despite everything, you are my favorite butcher.”

“But not your favorite,” She adds idly.

There’s not a lot of space in this new office, but Alana will take what she can get. Beverly and Will agree to help out (it’d might be good for Will to get a chance to do something less... close, as far as she’s concerned), and Jack stops by quite often despite not being able to “officially help.”

Except Will doesn’t seem as eager when he actually arrives and sees the wall of theories and the state of this place.

“This isn’t like you, Alana,” He remarks. “What are we going on, your-- your hunch?”

“I thought Jack worked off of your hunches all the time.” Alana counters.

“That’s different. It’s not--” He sighs and gives up. “What’s gotten you so fixated on this one woman? She can’t be that important if it really is some larger conspiracy.”

“She’s our only lead to whatever this is,” Alana insists. “If we want to make any progress, we have to find her.”

That satisfies Will, or at least seems to. But Bev breaks the silence. “Right, so, where do you want us to actually start?”

“The hospital. I saw a nurse just before... before it all happened.” Alana pauses heavily. “Can you get the hospital records? Maybe she saw something.”

The next job goes by without a hitch. The mark had been so kind as to work late at his office in the hospital. Margot had even left him all torn up and dramatic, they way she knows amuses Hannibal. The media will be too busy scaremongering about serial killers to worry about assassins. Everything’s fine.

Or so she’d thought. Hannibal enters her apartment without even knocking this time. Margot grips a knife behind her back when she hears him come in. Her warnings that he had to knock or they wouldn’t be friends anymore is apparently worth disregarding when he’s annoyed.

“I told you to be subtle,” He sounds awfully cross.

“This will throw them off the scent,” She replies smoothly, “You’ve never cared how I do it before.”

There’s a strained silence as he eyes the knife in her hand. Then he sighs and folds his hands behind his back.

“There’s a woman leading an offshoot department of the FBI just to find you.” Hannibal fixes his gaze on her when the thrill of that idea lights in her eyes. “It’s not a good thing. We just need you to be inconspicuous until we find out what they know.”

“You underestimate me,” Margot replies. She gets out a bottle of wine from her fridge, the nice stuff that she keeps for charming women and when Hannibal comes over. She avoids his eyes when she pours him a glass. “What’s her name?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“You know me. Always curious.”

Hannibal takes his glass of wine and smells it. At length. Drawing things out before he decides to speak. “Dr. Alana Bloom.”

“Alana Bloom,” She repeats, tasting the name on her tongue.

“Doctor.” He sets the glass down again. “You’ll continue working, just be cautious.”

When he leaves, she immediately pulls out her laptop and searches for that name.

Coming in this late maybe isn’t healthy, but the mystery (or is it curiosity?) needles Alana. Beside, Bev said the files on the hospital staff would be in later tonight. It sure is later.

When she settles down at her desk, the room dark except for the blue buzz of her computer monitor, she begins the arduous task of looking through the personal files. If nothing else, monotony will kill her anxiety.

Except, with each passing face that she doesn’t recognize, something begins to dawn on her.

‘Alana Bloom’ doesn’t bring up many results. A few misplaced images of flowers, a few random people who don’t seem old enough to have a doctorate, let alone work with the FBI. When she adds on ‘doctor’, that at least brings up a group photo. Some kind of faculty picture from Georgetown. Margot opens it without really thinking.

Then she sees it. Or thinks she sees it. She zooms in, not once but twice, onto a face in the middle.

The woman’s hair is just as long and silky here as it was in the hospital bathroom.

Margot practically throws the computer away from her.

The door opens just as the realization crests over Alana. She half-startles and looks up to see Will.

“You too?” Her smirk is tinged with exhaustion and something else.

“Couldn’t sleep,” He doesn’t quite look at her. “Are you looking into an abyss, Dr. Bloom?” He’s mostly teasing.

“Not quite.” Despite everything, she finds herself repressing a smile. She shouldn’t be smiling. “I think I’ve met her.”

#My writing #hannibal #honestly i dont know what to tag this as #alana bloom #margot verger

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groundramon · 6 years

Text

Actually you know what, hot take because I was talking about MOGAI discourse earlier: discourse around media (such as “anti” behavior) can be just as harmful to kids as MOGAI labels. Not in the same way of course, the only similarity they have is that they both come from a place of good intent.

To preface this before you read my first paragraph and go off on me: I am an anti. I am a minor. I have been an anti for years. I’m talking from my experiences as well as things I’ve observed on this website. Also, if you call yourself an anti-anti or think anti discourse is stupid or whatever, stop reading this right now because you’re not welcome here. This is not arguing that anti mentality is bad - no, anti mentality should be the norm. I’m just exploring the possibility that it can be toxic to kids to engage heavily in this topic. It is not toxic for kids to be antis, especially if they don’t engage in discourse, and it is NOT the kid’s fault for being dragged into it. It’s 100% the fault of all the weird adults and older teens who normalize this kind of shit. I’m simply recording how older antis (which, I could consider myself one despite being a minor) can create a toxic environment for minors as well.

Okay? Alright.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how I express myself and my views on media lately. I won’t get into details of how that came about, and honestly if you think you know the reason you don’t actually know the full story because I’ve discussed this with multiple people now. Some context: I’m not a naturally angry person. I have a tendency to sound very angry while ranting about things in media, because I have a strong sense of justice, a passion for fictional media that I hate seeing botched like that, and I have a shitty way of wording things. I’ve realized lately though, that what could’ve started as me overreacting about my annoyance from something (I honestly don’t remember at this point, because of how deeply ingrained this behavior has been into me) has turned into legitimate rage.

I don’t like being angry. I feel very, very bad when I’m angry. It’s honestly worse than the lowest lows of my depression for me. Anger isn’t a common emotion for me and it makes me uncomfortable, especially because I feel like I could easily hurt someone while I’m worked up. And I don’t like feeling like that. Anger pretty much makes all my mental illnesses/disorders get worked up into a tizzy and makes me feel Bad.

There’s honestly not a single thing I go into not scanning for something to nitpick. Normally it’s just a shitpost, because I’ve tried to streamline what I watch to the few things that don’t make me mad (namely kids cartoons) so there’s nothing to really get that worked up about. But when I try to watch any anime, which I enjoy when im sad btw because absorbing myself in complex fictional worlds and continuous storylines is very therapeutic to me, hoo boy...

Do you see the problem? There aren’t enough Steven Universes in the world to satisfy my crave for content while also avoiding anything that ticks me off. Hell, at this point at Steven Universe I dont even know whats going on so I’m kind of just there for the ride, but at least it doesn’t do anything as horrendous as most of the anime I’ve seen. I may be able to pick up some silly situational cartoons like We Bare Bears that are fine, but a lot of those don’t interest me too much - and go back to the peak of action cartoons and there’s a lot of equally questionable stuff to most PG13-rated anime nowadays.

What I’m doing right now, the way I’m processing media right now, is not a good thing. Is it Horikoshi’s fault for creating Mineta that I feel this way? Yes, 100%; I have a right to feel indignant about a sexual assaulter being promoted in such a way. But can I do anything about Horikoshi creating Mineta? No, no I cannot, except hopefully advocate in the future for the banishment of pedophilic undertones in media. But right now? I’m a kid. I can’t even vote yet. I could protest, but where? Who would care? I don’t have a car anyways, also I’d get heat stroke. I can yell about it online but I’m not yelling about it to anyone who needs to hear it, I’m just reminding good people that shitty people Exist.

There’s nothing I can do, so for my sake, I need to try to calm down about it. I need to stop myself when I start to get angry, not go on a rant - or go on a rant just to get it out of my system, but hopefully work to the point where I dont have to rant every time it happens. I can just roll my eyes and move the fuck along.

But I see people, namely older antis (usually around my age or a little older? Maybe college-aged), act like this stuff is good, act like this stuff is okay. They tell 13 yr olds and 14 yr olds that this is how they should process media, that they need to deconstruct media every time they watch it to be aware of who they’re supporting.

Stop that. I agree that awareness is good, but you’re going to make these kids self-destruct any time they try to enjoy something. There’s a difference between acknowledging flaws and still enjoying something anyways, and the overanalyzing shit that Tumblr encourages. And you’re putting this shit on KIDS! Literal kids! You’re acting like it’s kids’ responsibility to identify problematic stuff in media! IT’S NOT!

Saying that it is is like saying I, personally, am responsible for global warming because we own a van and a hybrid car instead of two electric cars. That’s not true; even if I became a forest creature I wouldn’t make a dent in global warming. The people controlling it are the people at the top of the food chain - the rich. Honestly living in california has taught me that poor people get fucked over at the expense of the rich; sure we’re democratic, but tell that to the people who cant water their lawns bc the water bill is too high because of a “drought” that’s been artificially created by poor resources and rich people in malibu or w/e over-watering their lawns.

Kids can be antis because it helps them protect themselves. But for god’s sake, don’t act like kids have to analyze every piece of media they come across. Nobody has to do that, it’s not healthy for anyone, but it’s ESPECIALLY not healthy for kids. Don’t guilt trip them for not giving up BNHA because of Mineta.

Be fucking careful with your words; your intentions may be good, but your results may not be.

Once again “anti-anti”s/anyone who supports that kinda shit don’t interact, this post isn’t for you. This post isn’t about how anti community is inherently toxic; it’s about how you created a potentially toxic counter-movement because of your even more toxic behavior. You’re far worse than the people I’m talking about in this post. You created them. Also fuck you.

#stormy speaks #ship critical #fandom critical #anti discourse #anti #mogai discourse #ace discourse #its not really? but im tagging it anyways bc its 1:45 am and i make poor decisions

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