The first draft of Warriors: Into the Wild as posted by Kate Cary.

#dc#dc comics#batman#bruce wayne#batfam#dick grayson#batfamily#tim drake#dc fanart


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The first draft of Warriors: Into the Wild as posted by Kate Cary.

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The mountains remind us that we are small. What greater insult is there?
Fragment from Zooey's book draft
Vezina Trophy (WIP - Chapter 1)
Word Count: 2.8k
WIP Book Summary: Friends to lovers, College hockey
I am currently working on slowly writing a hockey romance where the hockey comes first and hits hard! As a fan of 20 years of hockey, Iâve watched and loved the game as a die-hard and true fan since I was little.
The book and characters are inspired by real life I live and by my college years. I own the right to the book and plot: I do not consent to anyone taking my works and using them for their own gain.
This is the first draft and in first person, so a new type of writing for me!
Basic Information: ML = Martin Aalto (He/Him), FL = Mae York (She/They)
It is hard to showcase the switching POV on Tumblr for me, so I added dividers to make it easier!
Metal slicing ice as bodies slam into the Plexiglas wall between child me and a nasty hit; it was enchanting in a way. I spent nights sitting in folding-down connected seats with my feet hovering off the floor. Even now, as I watch my fellow college students chase the same circular black disc across the ice as the arena chanted their names and felt at home, it was always a part of me, you know? Here at the University of Laconia, it felt like I was watching legends establish their future on the ice. Romance and education took a back burner when it was game time, only the men on the ice and the noises echoing in that arena mattered.
           Another day of physics could not spoil my mood because the tantalizing event was only a few hours away. As I sketched in the margins of my notes, my mind zoned out and took me back to an old memory.
A child, in an oversized jersey, is playing a dancing game in the hallways in front of a TV with a boy in red. As the two tried their best to beat the other with each song, red strings of fate tied around their fingers, heading toward the seats, creeping down the stairs, and over the glass before reaching the center of the ice. As I laughed and smiled at my newfound friend, I would mourn their absence next to mine at the next game. And the next gameâŚand more.
      I was awoken from my manipulative daydream by my seat partner slipping behind me to sit one seat over. Martin Aalto was a friendly character, always curious and asking about the previous weekendâs games, the rankings, and my thoughts on our boysâ less-than-stellar performances. In honesty, he made physics recitations barely worth attending. He used to sit two rows behind me with two other boys until those two switched to the other time, and he didnât.
Eyes of blue and dirty blonde hair cut to medium length, a mole perfectly occupying his left cheek; he was exceptionally pretty, even for my tastes. I wasnât sure if I would call him âscore worthyâ as my friends would say, but he suited himself nicely. For someone wanting that college sweetheart, he was the best choice, and I could see why. But he was too perfect, the kind you roll your eyes at when they walk by on the sidewalkâclearly, just a guy who was a part of the simulation.
           âIs this going to be about whatever the hell Professor was talking about in lecture? Because I have zero idea what he was even saying,â he said, leaning toward me as he waited for the TA to hand him a worksheet.
           âThis could be about anything in physics, and I doubt we would understand it,â I responded sarcastically, looking at my notes from lecture, absentmindedly starting another doodle to save myself from electrical circuit equations. âMakes me regret engineering a little bit more.â
           âAt least itâs not chemistry with a thousand different compounds.â He said, immediately twirling his pencil around in his hand. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, glancing at my paper, whether it was to steal a wrong answer or check out the âphysics suffering doodles.
           For the next 50 recitations, we worked on the worksheet, helping each other completely misunderstand the workâs intention. Of course, our focus shifted from the topic of electricity and its related equations, including voltage and current, to the upcoming game.
           âYou go to every home game?â Martin asked, resting his chin in his palm as he glanced over at me, as I added a second piece of bubble gum to my mouth after the current piece lost its flavor. I nodded before replying.
           âYeah, and as many away games as I can.â I said, âIâve always loved hockey. Dad took me to so many games as a kid, I think I attended more games than friendsâ birthday parties.â
           âAnd thatâs something to be proud of?â Martin laughed, pointing his pencil at me. I could see the way his lip curled up on one side, the iris of his eyes almost hiding behind the low eyelids. If it were socially acceptable to squish his face now, I wouldâve done so immediately. I rolled my eyes in response. My pencil started to draw a new doodle: a circle with two dot eyes and a lopsided smile. He watched me out of the corner of his eyes, âAre you going to tonightâs game?â
           âOf course, will you?â I asked after confirming my own attendance. Martin awkwardly smiled, like he was shocked or couldnât tell if I was being sarcastic or not. âWhat? Whatâs that look for?â
           âNothing, justâŚyou know what?â He said, leaning in slightly. âIâll try to make it,â Martin said, offering a gum packet, which I declined out of my disgust over mint.
           As I packed up, I threw on a strap over my left shoulder and gave a nod before heading out to wait against the wall. Martin grabbed his back and followed. Once he exited the room, we fell into a walking pace together. When we walked out, I felt he had something to say, but what it was would have to wait until the following Tuesdayâs recitation.
           âHope to see you at the game!â I waved before walking away, placing headphones over my ears and scrolling through the same 200 songs to click on the one currently consuming my unconscious. The winter snow covered the once green campus, creating a true winter wonderland. December truly never looked so beautiful.
  (Aalto POV)   Â
As Mae walked away, I felt myself sigh before adjusting the backpack on my shoulder and heading the other way. Â It was like this nearly every week, and the more I got to know her, the more I realized she had no idea who I was. Was it face-blindness, or was it just good acting? Then again, I watched her try to lie about liking watermelon-flavored gum; it was easy to tell she hated it. Packed-down snow crunched under my feet as I walked along the university mall toward the library to grab a computer to work on online math homework and to print off the study guide for some bogus exam.
Students walked by as I turned down the sidewalk, walking along the main stretch of buildings that went through campus. I slid my phone out of my coat pocket, tugging the zipper up my winter jacket to rest at my chest, before I slid my hand into my jean pocket to stay warm. The dim lights of the library stood as I walked up the stone steps, waving at Logan Rutland, one of the team captains, who was about to enter.
âHey, man,â Logan said, slapping a hand on my back before we entered the library. We walked down the hall to see other students occupying tables, before spotting Alvis and Lukas at a table, with books spread across it as they worked on assignments for their finance courses. I slid into a seat, setting my bag against my chair.
âCoach says to meet up at 4 pm for a special team dinner,â Lukas said, gesturing to the group, who clearly had classes too late to find it worth going home. I didnât; my class was dismissed at 2:50 pm, which left me with about an hour until I had to be in my suit and walk into the arena. I had my suit hanging in the back seat of my car, so I didnât have to head back to the dorms. I opened a textbook and pulled out my physics notes, only to notice the little margin doodles. Mae mustâve gotten bored and let her hand wander to draw little things while I was in the bathroom for a few minutes. They werenât the best, but they reminded me of her, special to me. âMartin?â Lukas asked, waving their hand in front of me, causing my daydream of talking to the person I know with the worst case of âtalking about a person to said personâ. I looked up from my notebook, raising an eyebrow. Logan offered a small smirk, which set off the alarms in my head. He was as crafty off ice as he was at short-handed goals, son of a bitch.
Alvis flicked a small paper football at Loganâs face, getting a dry old ââha-haââ in return. By the time reached 5 minutes before show-up time, I was standing outside the restroom, adjusting the suit jacket as Lukas and Alvis stepped out, adjusting and smoothing their respective outfits. I ran my hand through my hair, offering a smile to those walking by as they all shoved winter coats into backpacks. âLetâs go, showing up right on time to start the weekend off on a win,â I said, throwing the strap over my shoulder.
âDonât let any goals in.â Lukas nudged his shoulder against mine as we pushed the doors open and stepped down the stone steps to walk onto the pavement. The sun was already on the horizon, and the scent of Friday night life was taking hold. Down the road, I saw the arena. Other players were walking from their cars to the center entrance, dressed up for game day in various suits and semi-formal outfits. As I talked in, I took a second to leave my thoughts at the door frame. I could think about Maeâs face blindness later. I could think about classes later. Now my focus was on one thing: this game.
People were already helping themselves with dinner: pasta with ground beef and steamed veggies. I rolled my eyes at Frankie and Lukas, a defenseman and the other assistant captain, poking fun at the fact that Erik, one of the other goalies, spilled his water on the table while trying to talk. The entire atmosphere was energetic and buzzing with confidence. I grabbed my own plate and sat down. As I ate, I almost meditated for a little while. Coach Black was patting some people on the back and talking to Logan and Lukas. He was a good coach; he left the third period in our hands and strived to give us the support we needed. Considering some players called him for a too-wasted-to-drive pickup, and he came, no questions asked; he was making his impact and care known.
After fake-boxing Alvis in the entrance, I headed toward the locker room down the flight of stairs in the center area of the arena. I pulled the large double door open, and someone grabbed the door behind to hold it open as we stepped inside.
As I changed into the clothes under my padding and jersey, for a moment, I could already picture them.  The noise and the cheers were accompanied by the sounds of blades cutting into ice. For the schoolâŚfor the teamâŚto give something to cheer for; tonight, I intended to not let in a single goal.
(Back to York POV)
I started to exhale into my hands as I walked up to the student entrance, where the small line started to form. Hajna Sullivan and Jordan Bolton, my best friends, were with me as I stepped into the line. Although it wasnât evening yet, the sun was retreating in the distance, blanketing the skies in hues of purples and pinks, almost like the beginning of a masterpiece was being painted as the backdrop for this game. I watched groups make their way over as my friend danced in place.
âIâm so excited!!â Hajna said, adjusting their glasses before shaking their arms in excitement. I smiled and nodded in agreement. âWeâre going to kick their asses and show them whoâs boss!â
Jordan laughed and pretended to punch the air, clearly implying we were going to beat the ever-living shit out of Acadia University. I joined in, as did Hajna, and we were all laughing, punching non-existent people. I looked at my phone in my hand, clicking it back to sleep before sliding it into my pocket. I could feel the cold starting to settle as the lineâs loud and boisterous energy grew as the minutes ticked down to be let inside. Something about this always amazed me; people waiting in the cold to support and love people they didnât even share classes with, to identify with pride in oneâs school despite its faults. A snowball hit my ankle, and I turned to the usual fraternity boys who were first, no matter the weather; they were engaged in showing snow down each otherâs backs.
âSorry!â One laughed, his beanie keeping his hair over his eyes, before he shrieked as he got a glove of snow to the face from another.
âWhoa.â I whistled, gesturing to how far the student line had reached; it was well past the baseball field now. âThank God we got here when we did, I wouldâve hated to not sit at the railing to see the game.â I thought that as the regular ticket line grew, the security started to set up to open the doors and scan our tickets. The fraternity boys gained my attention again as they started to clap and chant the schoolâs song, to which I also started singing along. Hajna and Jordan joined in as well. I looked at them as the crowd of students all hyped themselves up for what was foreseen to be a game of high stake with our border brother school; I loved them. I loved this; this feeling of pure excitement for the sport, where troubles were abandoned at the threshold and adoration took over. As the crowd funneled in, I tucked my ticket into my boot, as it was part of the necessary uniform. Hajna headed to the bathroom while Jordan and I climbed the concrete steps to the metal and creaky student section of KK to EE. We settled in section JJ; arms wrapped around the old railing. I always got the intuitive thought to jump; I'm not sure why, I just did.
âIsnât that exactly what you wore last time?â Jordan asked, scrolling on her phone. âI think youâre even wearing the same socks. Please tell me you washed those at least.â
âSuperstitious habits canât be broken; a bow on top, a jersey with the goalieâs last name, leggings with pockets, and Bean boots,â I said, gesturing to each piece. âWeâve never lost a game where I wore all of this.â
âOkaaaaayâŚ..What if you suddenly started to date the captain and he wanted you to wear his jersey?â
âThen he'd better shut the fuck up because I am not changing this and risk the entire teamâs season.â I declared, flipping her off. She laughed, and then I laughed. We saw the players come out for warm-up, but I had a bigger issue.
âMae. Mae, are you actually taking a quiz for class?â Â Â Hajna laughed as I was bent over, mumbling.
âI hate this professor, who schedules quizzes on Friday nights. âYou can use your notes,â Like fucking...dude, Iâm not even near my notebook.â I spat out, cursing my own decision to pursue engineering. I regret the path to a stable career. Thankfully, I hit submit, and a lovely 6/10 appeared in my dashboard, which wasnât an F, so there was no reason for me to sob!
âŚyetâŚ
 Suddenly, the arena went dark. Emergency lights filled the exits as the Jumbotron started to explode into the pre-game opening video. As the arena speakers started to blast a song covered by the State of Mind, the spotlights started to shake as the crowd was all on their feet, the building barely containing the voices of those ready to scream away their words.
As the school song broke out, the first blade touched the ice; it was like a storm had broken out. I could feel my heart racing, remembering the wins and losses, cursing in the family-friendly âdonât swear and accidentally get a penalty on the team as a fanâ way. I looked toward Aalto, the goalie.
I felt the smile on my face brighten a little more. He was incredible, moving quickly to stop shots on goal and entertaining the student section during brief breaks. We all started chanting his last name; his identity on that ice was our show of affection. The referee got into position, as did the face-off players at center ice.
I leaned into the bar, my friends also waiting in excitement, as were the fellow students crowding the student section. I flickered my eyes over to Aalto. He was focused and serious, and I swore I watched his eyes flick away from our section; from me, back to the center. But that would be insane? He was just looking at the students as a whole. Thatâs got to be it. The thought was slapped out of my mind as the puck hit the ice.
NowâŚ.it was go time.
A page of the second draft of the Bell Jar đ¤
Monster or Man (working title) -Chapter 1
Hi all. So Iâve decided to post the first chapter of the first draft of my book that Iâve been working on for a long time. This is the first draft so itâs mostly just to get my ideas down, but I am looking for some feedback. If you enjoy it, please let me know. If you think there are improvements that need to be done, also let me know. Thanks!
She kept looking over her shoulder out of fear of being caught. What she was about to do would be considered treason, not only to the facility she was currently studying in but to the whole country. Dr Myrah Liang, in this place, her name wasnât important, she was just one of many genetic scientists that were forced to work within these walls, however, soon she will be known all around the world. Thankfully, her outfit allowed her to blend in, the white long buttoned lab coat with the brown pants. It was the standard uniform for the genetic scientists, no one really batted an eye when  they witnessed her standing at one of the various metal doors in the long hall. Reaching into her front pocket, an ID card was presented and pressed against the security keypad, little whispers slipped through her bright red lips.        âPlease, please, please.â        Genetic scientists only had level one access, which only really opened up most of the labs and research quarters. To her surprise, the little red light on the keypad turned green and a small click notified her that the door unlocked. The lights flickered to life as she entered the room, revealing cabinets as tall as the walls themselves. Jackpot. Closing the door slowly behind her, Dr Liangâs eyes stared in amazement before rushing over to one of the shelves. Her fingers flipped through the folders, she had to find something, something that could expose this whole operation. Each file was labelled;       December 17th 2001 â Afghanistan       December 18th 2011 â Iraq       March 16th 2004 -  Pakistan       April 27th 2018 â North Korea
     Grabbing each file folder, Dr Liang thought that this might be enough evidence to get the media to pounce onto the people running this hellhole. However, she grabbed one more file as as a precaution. It had no date and the folder itself was completely blank. The scientist was so engrossed in looking at the files, she failed to realize that a security camera had been recording the whole time. Her head poked up from the stacks of papers and she began shuffling out. The plan to look as normal as possible was completely chucked out of the window, she just wanted to get out of there quickly before anyone noticed what she was doing.
      Alarms echoed through the pearly white halls as the scientist bolted towards one of the many doors surrounding her. In her grasp were a stack grey coloured file folders, some of which had fallen out of her hands and onto the ground below. She didnât bother stop and pick them up as the sound of heavy boots grew ever closer. With panicked breaths, the scientist slammed her body against the two large metal doors that separated her from her freedom. Her fist punched the enlarged elevator buttons but a voice stopped her dead in her tracks.
     âAnd what exactly do yae plan on doing with those?â
    That familiar Scottish accented, cold toned voice. She couldnât help but swallow the lump of fear that built up in the back of her throat realising just exactly who was standing behind her. Much akin to a scared puppy, the womanâs head slowly turned, eyes widened and her body quaking. It was her boss, Dr Achim Lankanotvitch, dressed in a long black lab coat that was buttoned on his chest. His black short hair held was held together with enough wax that it looked like it could stab ones fingers if they were to touch it. The most eye catching feature which separated him from the rest of the scientists in the facility was the large metal arm that had completely replaced his normal limb. Large round glasses with reflective lenses covered his eyes, which made it difficult to read what emotion his face was portraying. However, judging by his straight posture and authoritative stance, he was not happy that this situation was occurring.      âYour operation has to end. Too many innocent people are dying!â She shouted with the files hugged to her chest.       âA shame really, I had such high hopes for yae.â Achim brushed off her statement, it meant nothing to him. âLeak those files and the whole world will spiral into a panic, wars will be started and a lot more lives will be lost.â He held out his blue gloved hand while his fingers twitched, demanding that she hand over the stack of papers.  A ding from the elevator rang through both of their ears causing both of their heads to twitch. The rouge scientist moved to the opening doors, hunched over the files so no more would fall.      âIâm going to put a stop to this, itâs time the world discovers your crime against humanity.â As soon as she said that, Achim almost leapt forward, attempting to grab her arm as she shuffled through the doors. He barely missed, but that didnât stop the woman from hyperventilating in panic. She knew what would have happened if she got caught, a punishment so severe that she wouldnât want to wish it upon anyone. Thankfully, getting to the elevator was the hardest part.        Achim remained in his spot as the elevator went up. His left eye was twitching from the sudden stress that washed over him. Behind, several heavily armed security came to a halt.         âSir⌠someone is escaping with some sensitive material.â The scientistâs head turned slowly to face the soldier who spoke, his glare only darkened. âI KNOW!â That sudden outburst caused the entire facility around them to fall silent even the chatter from down the hall stopped. âYae there⌠put him in the feeder⌠I need a drink.â       âNo! No!â The other soldiers were quick to listen to their bossâs demand, wrapping their arms around him as they dragged him away. Achim on the other hand made his way back down the hall. Luckily his private office wasnât too far away.
        As the boss walked down the hallway, his hands were linked behind his back. The Test Centre of Classified Somatology, usually known as the TCCS amongst the employees. Thirty years of blood, sweat and tears went into this place, sadly, for itâs creator, it had to remain hidden to the rest of the world. He approached his office slowly, nodding to the two soldiers who always stood guard at the door. They saluted back in a sign of respect as Achim entered. The room itself was large, but the office only took up a quarter of the space while the rest was used as living quarters for himself. In the right hand corner laid a messy double bed with the covers thrown over the side. Making his way to a large wooden cabinet, his metal fingers brushed against glass bottles, most of which were unopened bottles of whisky and wine, while others appeared to be almost empty.
       âHitting the drink already? Itâs not even five oâclock.â A woman spoke from the door, Achim didnât even hear her come in. She was dressed similar to him, a black long lab coat, but unlike her boss, she kept hers unbuttoned.. Her striking white long hair bounced as she walked before she slapped another batch of files on his desk. Being a much much older woman, she had been apart of the facility for many years, almost the same amount of time as Achim. There was no surprise that she would soon find herself second in command.      âLeave me alone, Iâve had a rough day.â Achim snarked back at her comment while he poured himself a nice tall glass of Malt Scotch Whisky, the events from earlier today called for one of the more expensive drinks in his collection. âWhatâs this?â      âPaperwork for that soldier you sentenced to death. Come on, you know the drill.â Her nail pressed against the file folder, tapping it.      âDo you really need this right this second Karolinne?â      âYes, and donât call me that while weâre on the job⌠I donât want the rest of the employees to startâŚâ She retorted with a small huff, still standing her ground in front of his desk. âI heard about the rouge scientist⌠What are you going to do about her?â        Upon that question being asked, Achim stood up, whisky cup in hand as he made his way to the large window that was one of his walls. Behind the glass were fake trees, which rustled slightly as if something was moving. âIt depends on how she plays her cards, if she goes to the media, we can shut it down before anybody gets a chance to see them. Head into parliament, sheâd get shot on the spot. Iâll put out a nation wide warrant for her arrest.â Karolinne followed him, her eyes peering down to the area below. âI think you are being way to relaxed about this.â She looked at him before returning her gaze. âYou under estimate her, donât you?â
       âIâm surprised, you more than anybody should know how many people have tried to put a stop to my operation, what is it now? Five? Six?â Achim took another sip of his expensive whisky, not giving her the time of day. She had nothing but respect for him, so when he gave her the cold shoulder, she went silent on the subject.       âThe president is going to get wind of this sooner or later.â Only then did the scientist react, shuffling in his spot ever so slightly but it was noticeable to her. On that note, Karolinne made her way to the door. âGet that paperwork done as soon as possible.â       No response. Achim had become lost in his own thoughts. The TCCS had so much potential, however layers of red tape had constricted his ideas and expanding his operation was not possible anymore. Trees rustled below him once more, snapping him out of his thoughts. He slowly walked back to his desk and basically flopped into his chair, starting his paperwork.
     Days had passed since the files were stolen, nothing had really come from it which was rather surprising to Achim. He half expected half of the world to be furious with him but it was all radio silence. The scientist was in his office, observing some of the security footage from that day, when his desk lit up. On the screen below his files, the face of the President himself showed up on the incoming call button.      Great.       He tapped the green answer square as if he was using a normal cell phone. Shortly after a holographic screen appeared in front of him with live feed from the Oval Office. âSo nice to see yae mister President.â Achim attempted to clean his desk by just shoving papers back into the file folder, heâll sort it later. The President of the United States, a man that held tremendous power over many countries around the globe. Personally, Achim felt like he was wasting it. There were so many missed opportunities that would have benefited the country greatly.       âAchim! Why are you killing your own men again!?â He didnât flinch despite the fact that his boss was yelling at the top of his lungs, clearly furious at him. âFirst of all, donât yell at me like that⌠secondly, that man was incompetent, if you would assign me some people that could in fact do their job, then Iâd be more than happy not to send them to the pit.â          That didnât stop the president from still screaming his head off. âThatâs no excuse! We have people asking questions!â         Achim held his tongue. As much as he wanted to scream back at the top of his lungs about how that soldier decided to make the smart ass remark, he knew that it would only lead to more arguing. The president continued.          âWe have an investor interested in helping you fund your operations, she will be arriving in the next forty-eight hours, get your act together and make sure youâre ready to show her your best work.â          That new piece of information really put Achim on edge. His stance shifted while his arms were suddenly crossed at the chest, he couldnât believe what he was hearing. âAn investor? I told yae⌠we were getting more orders coming in, people have been paying.â           âWeâre running out of money, even with their contributions. You and I both know that we cannot turn down any interested parties at this point.â
       The scientist rubbed his chin, disapproving by this sudden turn of events. âFine, we will show her around.â         âGood, now donât mess this up.â On that note, the screen shut off with a faint clicking sound. Achim moved from rubbing his chin to rubbing his temple.         Karolinne stood on the side of his desk, she looked rather amused with her wide grin. âOn days like this Iâm kind of glad youâre the one that has to deal with him and not me.â          âItâs not like I had a choice in the matter.â He sighed deeply, expelling the pent up rage that had been slowly boiling up to the surface. âEither way, I want this place in pristine condition, a little extra funding would go a long way.â           âYes sir.â

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Working on a draft for one of your books and trying to decide what happens after which scene is the hardest fucking thing
Bhai mai ek cute draft likh rahi ek cutu story ka kisiko agar writing style pe revise Dena ho toh batao ekad chapter bheju




