#rough draft

[charactervsplot]

Sometimes when drafting you just have to drop a

[FIGURE OUT THIS PART LATER]

and move on.

[rs-hawk]

Working on my novel and couldn’t figure out why it felt so empty. I didn’t have any filler. It was all 100% plot. The characters only interacted when necessary. I didn’t prattle on about the scenery or how the birds sounded. I had all my fuller stuff that I loved saved in another file because I “didn’t need it”.

Y’all, I knew this existed in TV shows but it didn’t hit me until this that everything is being whittled down. We are so starving for filler that we snap up anything. I unload all mine on Tumblr or keep it in a massive Google Docs. It SUCKS.

Honestly? Death to plot necessity. Revive filler. Revive unnecessary interactions. Revive just vibing with characters sometimes. I don’t want to just consume the plot and I don’t want to just create the plot either.

[honeyjynxxed]

DeadTired Draft

"You're very good at pretending to be a shadow."

Tim's voice shook Danny from his quiet note taking and he looked up at his study partner with furrowed brows and confusion on his face. "I'm sorry?" It was as much a question as it was an apology which meant it was neither really.

Electric blue eyes pinned him in place, and Tim looked at Danny as if he had just said the sky was green. "If I had not been partnered with you in our ecology class I wouldn't know you exist. No one at this school knows you exist besides the staff and even then you're a name to a face to a grade. Nothing else. You're very good at pretending to be a shadow, a bodiless thing gliding along the edges of society."

Danny bit his lip slightly, mulling these words over. Tim was right of course, he never allowed himself to make waves, he stuck to the background of any place he was in, and really he was surprised that he wasn't more noticeable with how often Tim Drake-Wayne was his study partner. "I guess...I've never really like attention anyway. Why, you stalking me, Drake?" He raised a brow at the other boy, attempting to hide his confusion behind snark. He hardly ever used Tim's last name, either of them, but this seemed like an appropriate time to do so.

"Hiding something, Nightingale?" Tim snarked back but there was a bit of genuine questioning under his tone that had Danny tensing up in his sit, gripping his pencil a little too tightly in his left hand. "I can only contact you through your student email, you don't have a phone number or a phone period as far as I can tell, you have a laptop that barely works and seemingly requires a blood sacrifice to do the most basic of tasks. You live on campus but you never let me see your dorm, you never agree to meet me anywhere but the library on campus and I just-" He lets out a heavy sigh and runs his hands through his hair and suddenly Danny is a lot less tense in his seat. When Tim's eyes settle on him again there's genuine concern there and it breaks his heart. "I am worried. Daniel Nightingale doesn't exist outside of this college and it makes me think you're running from something or someone. If that isn't the cause then by all means please tell me I'm overstepping but Danny..." Tim reaches across the table that separates them and grabs at his free hand. "If you need help I'm here, ok?"

And oh...oh Danny's core positively sings in his chest at the admission. Protection was a major obsession for Danny and the way Tim talked, the way he explained his thought process, it made Danny feel warm and fuzzy inside despite the permanent chill in his body. Tim wanted to protect him and wasn't that so sweet? "I-" Danny stuttered before a sad smile was spreading across his lips and he gave the boy's hand a gentle squeeze. "I appreciate that but unless you have a way to somehow get an entire government organization disbanded and legislature revoked then I'm afraid this is out of your ballpark."

And really, Danny should've known better than to open his fat mouth. He should've known that the Fenton luck would bite him in the ass with his first real friend since Sam and Tucker. Tim may have dropped the conversation after that but by no means had he dropped the topic entirely. No instead apparently he had somehow gotten into contact with the Justice League because less than two weeks later Batman, Red Robin, Superman, and John Constantine of all people were waiting for him inside his dorm when he got back from a late night of studying.

What.

The.

Fuck.

[minunwinter]

Really rough storyboard

If you couldn't tell I drew it on a canvas first then transferred it all to an animation file cuz I didnt think I'd actually make this.

I was just listening to music one second then the other...

[popp1n]

Negotiations

WIP Draft #2

Late afternoon of the appointed day, the tension in the Watchtower’s largest conference room was thick enough to cut with a butterknife. By 6:30 PM, the core members available were all there; Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, and a dozen associates, flipping through thick packets in a paper-shuffling chorus as they followed along the debrief presentation.

By 6:55 PM, the room had fallen into a disciplined silence. Every chair was filled, eyes alternating between the heavy blast doors and the digital clock on the wall. They were waiting for the Ambassador to arrive, the only missing critical member of the conversation to be had.

The clock ticked, the hour slot blinking forward on the clockface. 7:00 PM.

The doors remained shut. The hallway stayed empty.

"Did anyone actually inform them where we would be meeting?" Green Lantern asked, leaning back and scanning the table with a quizzical expression. "Or did we just assume they’d know where to go?"

Several of the Gotham crew opened their mouths to provide a rundown of the previous correspondence, and Cyborg started to check the transporter logs, but the air was suddenly ripped apart by a shrill noise over the intercom.

"Code: 304 - Abnormal energy readings at level seven, maintenance hall."

Predictably, Flash was the first to move, a blur of crimson vanishing before the automated message even finished. Several others followed in a surge of capes and focused urgency. The elevator felt agonizingly slow, though it shot them down to the engineering and storage decks at record speed.

Having taken the stairway, Flash was pacing a perimeter before the doors hissed open. Superman touched down a second later, his cape fluttering behind him as he transitioned from flight to a heavy, grounded stance.

It took another minute for the rest of the group to bridge the gap. Batman stepped out of the well-lit lift first, his eyes already narrowed behind his cowl, followed by Wonder Woman and Green Lantern, who settled into basic defensive poses. 

They found the source of the disturbance in the center of the main corridor. A coinciding, threatening event was somewhat expected by the more paranoid of the group. However, this was not the case. It wasn't a breach or a bomb; it was a neon green line suspended, perfectly vertical and touching neither floor, wall, nor ceiling.

"Is this... expected?" Superman asked, his voice inquisitive.

"Somewhat," Batman replied, moving to the side for better visualization. "The color matches multiple descriptions of previous encounters.”

As they watched, the line began to move. It didn't crack, shatter, or stretch. Instead, it seemed to widen, the edges pulling back with a fluid, rhythmic grace, not unlike someone gently pulling aside a shower curtain to reveal what lay behind the veil.

The neon green rift glowed brighter in a momentary pulse, a rhythmic throb of energy that heralded the arrival. From the opaque glow, an amorphous mass of unidentifiable color poured into the air of the industrial corridor. It whipped and swirled like a storm cloud trapped in a bottle, frantically condensing as gravity and reality began to take hold.

The first limb to take shape was a foot. It looked almost human, toes and heel defined, yet the arch was encased in a stark white, stirrup-style shoe. As the form solidified upward, the entity’s attire bled into existence. What followed was a black, cinched pant leg, baggy and slightly sheer, featuring a sharp slit down the side that revealed a textured, white, skin-tight underlayer.

A hand emerged, its skin so pale it appeared translucent by human standards. A white wrist guard, matching the material of the shoes, bunched the poofy sleeve of a ruffled, black blouse. A white corset belt snapped into place, snatching the entity's waist and giving the swirling mass a definitive, elegant frame.

As the figure grew more distinct, a sheer shawl draped over one side, fastened by a delicate white pin at one shoulder. The fabric was a living map; galaxy patterns swirled across the material, shifting and breathing with every movement the entity made.

Finally, the head materialized. Wispy, glowing white hair streaked with various undercolors floated as if underwater, topped by a simple, shimmering, silver headdress that caught the Watchtower’s fluorescent lights. With the form complete, the League found themselves staring at a face that was both ethereal and uncanny.

Sharp teeth were pulled back into a placating, wide grin. Pointed ears, adorned with dangling star earrings, twitched with curiosity. But it was the eyes that held the group frozen: vibrant green irises set against bottomless black sclera, watching the heroes with a gaze that somehow felt ancient.

The individual drifted downward, the green portal snapping shut behind them with a sharp pop of displaced air. Their feet finally touched the cold metal floor. Many of the group remained tense, but Wonder Woman broke the stalemate. She stepped forward with the grace of a diplomat, her hand extended in a gesture of peace.

"Greetings," Diana said, her voice steady and resonant. She met the entity’s gaze with a respectful nod. "You are the Infinite Realms' ambassador, correct?"

The individual’s smile widened, revealing those rows of sharp, polished teeth. "Yes, I am," he confirmed, his voice carrying a slight, melodic echo as he shook Wonder Woman’s hand. "You may call me Phantom. And what is your name?"

"My name is Diana," she replied, her tone warm but professional. "I go by Wonder Woman. I am a princess of Themyscira."

Phantom’s expression brightened as they began walking toward the rest of the group. "Oh, Pandora has mentioned you! She is quite proud of your work."

"Really?" Diana asked, her eyebrows lifting in intrigue.

Phantom offered a non-committal hum of agreement. As he moved closer, the group's more observant members noticed more about his appearance. For fleeting fractions of a second, the Ambassador’s flesh seemed to thin, and a neon green, translucent skeleton superimposed itself over his physical form, flickering like a dying holographic projection before fading back to his more solid appearance.

"We are glad to have you," Hal Jordan stepped in, surreptitiously elbowing Flash in the ribs to get him to stop staring. "I am a Green Lantern. I’ve been involved in a number of successful intergalactic negotiations. If you need a rundown on protocol, I'm your man."

"Really?" Phantom turned toward Hal with an eager, almost youthful energy. "That would be a great help. I appreciate a source of expertise. This is all a bit more official than I am used to."

The elevator doors hissed open, and the group stepped inside, the transition from the open hallway to the confined lift highlighting the Ambassador’s strange, shifting presence. As the lift began its ascent, Diana looked over at the ethereal figure. "I assumed with such a title that you would have a wealth of experience in these matters," she questioned gently.

Phantom let out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle, shuffling further into the corner to make room for the others. "You would think that. Actually, my position as Ambassador is quite new."

He leaned back against the brushed-metal wall of the elevator, his shawl shifting to cover his front.

"The Infinite Realms haven't had a centralized form of government until now, as far as I know, anyway," Phantom explained. "There are regions with their own laws and individual 'haunts' scattered throughout the space. The Realms exist naturally in a form of chaos, and that’s reflected in the communities there."

Flash, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, blurted out, "How did you end up as the guy in charge of talking to us, then?" The speedster immediately received a dual glare, one sharp from Batman and the other a warning scowl from Hal, for his lack of diplomatic tact.

Phantom didn't seem to mind. He just shrugged, his earrings jingling softly. "I have a good relationship with a lot of influential people within the Realms, and I have more recent experience with this human realm in particular. To be honest, I actually spend more time here than I do there."

He looked around at the assembled heroes, his green eyes glowing with a serious intensity. "Situations like mine are a large part of why these negotiations are so important. The council knew I would fight for a good deal because I know exactly what's at stake on both sides."

Previous Version | Masterpost

[di0z]

⤷ ゛batman michael x catwoman!readerˎˊ˗

era: HIStory

fluff!!

WC: 686

a/n: this was a draft I just decided to post bc of an anons request I meant to fill out awhile! but enjoy :)/ lowkey.. just a oneshot.

It was a cold, rainy night in Gotham City, the crime just as bad as usual. The rats ran the streets, and so did gangsters and hookers. It was a sad sight to see, and Michael hated walking through it every day.

He moved through the city as if he couldn’t be harmed. Honestly, that was the mentality you had to have if you wanted to survive. His hands were shoved deeper into the pockets of his long black trench coat as rain pitter pattered against the pavement. He stayed on the lookout without being too obvious, watching for anything…a robbery, a fight, or even the simple act of somebody snatching a lady’s purse.

Then he heard a crash, followed by the annoying ringing of a diamond store alarm.

He quickly changed, like those superheroes do in the movies… and ran over.

W he arrived, he looked around. It was dark, but the shattered glass scattered across the floor told him somebody had definitely been there.

“Show yourself…” he said commandingly, but softly.

You stepped out of the shadows seeing the masked man, every time you saw Batman tingles went through your body.

You had a diamond resting between your long nails as you twirled it carelessly. Michael couldn’t help but stare for a moment longer than usual. The black catsuit fits like a glove, showing off every curve not leaving anything to imagination, while gold chains draped lazily around your arms, making it obvious you were stealing just to steal… or maybe to grab a certain someone’s attention.

The silence in the room was obvious you two were checking each other out. You moved closer, the jewelry clinking softly against your skin. A smile tugged at your lips.

“Isn’t it the Bat?”

Michael gritted his teeth in annoyance. He was so tired of dealing with you every week, but at the same time, it was the highlight of his night.

“Do I always have to keep taming the stray cat?” he teased, watching as you circled him like a predator stalking its prey.

He could’ve easily caught you and thrown you in jail. Something always held him back, though. These constant fights had been going on for months, and somehow he still hadn’t tried hard enough to catch you.

You slipped behind him, and he tensed slightly, but he was far too curious to move away. Your hand traveled up to his throat, your nails lightly scraping against his skin. A small groan escaped his mouth before he could stop it.

Strangely enough, you could tell he was into it. The constant shifting, the way his hand found your wrist and guided it lower toward the belt around his waist…it gave him away more than he realized. You two been having these tension for months..

You let your hand trail downward, unfastening the belt. For a moment, Michael almost thought something else was about to happen.

Instead, you snatched the belt and looped it around your neck like a trophy before jumping away. He flinched immediately.

“must be pretty hungry and desperate for me…” you purred. As much as you wanted to do something to him, you couldn’t be that easy..

Michael bit the inside of his cheek, he wasn’t into you in the way, at least that’s what he kept telling himself, he just wants to catch you. He had no interest in seeing how you taste, or how you would feel in his hands, not even how you would sound if you two did go far.. no way.

“Bye for now…” you teased, backing toward the broken window. And then you were gone, another crime, another time he let you off the hook.

Hours later, you sat comfortably on the couch knitting when you heard the front door open. Looking up, you found Michael stepping inside, drenched in rain. The end of his curls dripped water.

“How was work, babe?” you asked softly. He glanced at you while setting his keys down.

“It was work…” he answered, like always, sounding completely disinterested in having much of a conversation. If only it was Batman walking through that door. He would’ve been a lot more interested.

Well…

Only if you knew your own husband was Batman.

[gaallo]

[mseden-fries]

Halloween special draft might finish in the next week something a little different than my usual comics. Hope that’s OK.