AU where Leo is trapped in the Prison Dimension for months instead of minutes and the only way he gets by with his sanity intact is through recording himself talking to his wrist comm.
When they finally manage to get Leo back and make him rest up to heal, Donnie can’t help but listen to the recordings left behind.
He’s not sure what exactly he’s expecting, only that his subconscious is screaming at him that it has to be heartbreaking, that it has to be torturous.
Instead, what Donnie is subject to is a full thousand hours’ worth of Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu crossover fanfiction. More than one part in the series. Spanning well over a million words.
(The worst part is that it’s actually good.)
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the Big Two need to hire more women to write comics not just for gender parity's sake or so we can get better-written female characters or any of the other dozen completely valid reasons why we need more women in comics, but also because the perspective a lot of women bring to the superhero genre is fundamentally different from the mostly middle-class white men who dominate the genre
like Ivory Madison portraying the cycle of violence and abuse through the parallel institutions of marriage and the mob in Huntress: Year One to showcase how Helena is both a victim and freedom fighter in the context of her family and cultural history....what man would have thought of that? even Greg Rucka didn't do that, and he basically wrote the book on how to write traumatized religious female vigilantes who have complex relationships with their families
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Something like this?
Yeah! Very close to that!
From the top view, the toes would still be pretty indistinguishable because the fur would still obscure where one ends and another begins, but that's about right.
At this point in their evolution, you'd be able to tell right away from the tool claw that they're not Felis Catus Domesticus anymore. I had a specbio project I worked on for a while where I called them something like Felis Narrans I think.
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Chin lifts.
From Whumper to make Whumpee feel vulnerable. Weak. Like property. To remind them of their place and just how servile and pliant they are under Whumper’s control. Forcing them to lift their head, stretching their neck to the point of pain, in a show of cruel sadism as a wicked smile spreads across their lips.
From Caretaker to soothe Whumpee. To make them meet their eyes when they refuse. To check for illness or harm. Or tears. Maybe they smile when Whumpee’s gaze reaches their own. Perhaps they frown at what they see. Regardless, an intimate moment is created as Whumpee stares up at them, seeing the intemt strong within their eyes and feeling the firm unyielding grip of their hand, both whispering: “I’ve got you.”
Whumpee, the one having their chin lifted, feeling all too exposed with the near manhandling. For a Whumpee who’s main defense mechanism is hiding, not being able to cover their highly expressive face is a terror. A Whumpee who refuses to meet Whumper’s gaze out of spite. A Whumpee who buries their head in Caretakers chest when ill to hide the flush of their face or seek comfort.
Lift their chin.
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My friends and I went to Sleep No More last night, and I'm still letting my thoughts percolate, but it was a very cool experience.
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