Send An Ask: Get To Know Your Author

send an ask: get to know your author

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

4) favorite character you’ve written

5) character you were most surprised to end up writing

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now

7) when asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

8) favorite genre to write

9) what, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?

12) your weaknesses as an author

13) your strengths as an author

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?

15) why did you start writing?

16) are there any characters who haunt you?

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

21) what do you think when you read over your older work?

22) are there any subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

Some of yall writers are too good with your pen bc yall write fics For characters I don’t know/care about and have me fully invested, asking to be in the taglist

Got the sniffles, i think im going to read one of my comfort fics

Oh amas did my boys dirty with the sound

Bangtan x Coldplay ~ My Universe

Let's Add Caviar To It

My inspiration has been resurrected and it would be unfair to not use it in this series. I never thought I'd write this much for this story, but now its getting its own masterlist and taglist. Comment if you want to be tagged for future updates

Masterlist and Series Masterlist

Taglist: @prettyvintageafternoon

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: cursing, obsessive Bruce Wayne

When Bruce first met Dove, the sky had just opened up for the third time that week. The rain made wonderful background noise as he stood upon a platform, staying completely still as his tailor made adjustments to the newest suit in his collection. She stood behind the man, measuring tape around her neck and a kettle of tea in her hands, dressed head to toe in knock-offs.

Her shoes were fake Luis Vuitton and the purse she carefully placed at her workstation had to be fake Fendi. Her slacks, though in style, looked like they came from a discount store. Her shirt was the worst offender, the signature Burberry plaid printed all wrong. Anyone that didn’t know designer would be fooled. The older women of Wayne Industries would call her attempt offensive.

Bruce thought she looked lovely.

As the appointment went on, his sharp gaze followed her captivating form travel in and out the room. Dedication bled through her every action. This woman moved with an eagerness to learn everything she could from her mentor. She had enough knowledge about the business to complete a task before Spinelli could call out her name.

“I’ll make sure to deliver the suit two days from now, Mr. Wayne,” Spinelli announced after taking the last measurement. When Bruce failed to respond, the old man a glance up. His highest paying customer had set his focus elsewhere. To the side of the podium, tucked away behind fabrics and order lists, where Spinelli had set up his apprentice to work.

“Mr. Wayne?” That time, the tailor gained Bruce’s attention.

“I just remembered that I have been invited to the mayor’s birthday dinner. This time deliver it to my office.”

“Oh?”

“Is that possible?”

“Yes, of course. Whatever you want, Mr. Wayne.” Bruce’s focus drifted back to the young woman tucked away, working hard and not paying him any mind. Whatever he wants?

Two days had passed agonizingly slow for him. Between fighting crime and leading his company to new heights of success, his mind never strayed far from her. His morning thoughts revolved around her, curious about what she looked like fresh out of bed. Catapulting through the rain slickened streets of his city, he wondered if she had any hobbies or what she did to unwind. After shaking a shareholder’s hand, Bruce imagined what she smelled like and how soft were those working hands of hers, and if she touched his suit with them.

By the time Dove made it to Wayne Towers and knocked on his door for the delivery, Bruce had dug up the bare bones of her life. Where she lived - near Sheldon Station- what subway line she rode -the number 2 line all the way to the Fashion District where she walks the rest of the way to Spinelli- if she lived with anyone -just a roommate that’s barely home and pretends to forget about paying their share of the rent- and how old she was -mid-twenties and she just celebrated a birthday.

“Mr. Wayne. I have your suit, sir.”

“Thank you. I don’t believe we’ve introduced ourselves yet. I’m Bruce Wayne, but I’m sure you knew that.” A small snort she failed to suppress warmed his being. That’s good, humor is a key factor in a long-lasting relationship.

“Dove CartWright, sir. I’ve been Mister Spinelli’s apprentice for the past few months.” Her voice coated her words in honey, unknowingly making her all the more appealing to him. Bruce could hear it now, the sound of her sleep-laden voice croaking out a rough ‘good morning’ from their bed as he paces around the room getting ready for work.

“Spinelli hasn’t taken on an apprentice in a long time. You must be deadly with a needle and thread.” Her eyebrows shot up an inch at his alluded compliment. Apparently, the news and local anecdotes were true. Bruce Wayne was a charmer.

“Thank you, sir. I came into his store with a few tricks and talents but he’s been wonderful sharing his expertise. I watched him tailor your suit and it was like a work of art how he did it.” Only watched, he wanted to ask.

“I’ve been going to Spinelli since I was a boy. I don’t know a better tailor,” Bruce replied, taking the garment bag and unzipping it to peek inside. Pristine black fabric greeted him. He let out an audible hum to telegraph his satisfaction.

While he inspected the suit, Dove stood still as a statue, running the tip of her painted fingertips along the edge of her skirt. Did he make her nervous? “Good as always.”

“He’ll be happy to know that. Enjoy your evening, Mr. Wayne.” Her body wobbled for a minute, trying to figure out what the proper farewell gesture would be for a tailor’s apprentice to give her employer’s most important customer who was simultaneously the CEO of the richest company in the western hemisphere.

Bruce would remember the smile she gifted him as she departed for the rest of his life. They weren’t the whitest teeth he’d ever seen or the straightest. The gap between her incisors induced an extra pump in his heart. Gapped teeth, something so plebian to fixate on, yet he did. It made her endearing. He wanted to see it again.

He had to see her again. Already the warmness of her presence had vanished, plummeting the CEO back into the usual callousness that was his life. He just needed to see her one more time. See her toss a smile at him one more time. Show him that gap in her pretty teeth one more time.

Dove kept her shoulders square as she strutted out the elevator into the lobby of Wayne Industries. Her job was officially over for the day, freeing her mind to think about the personal side of her life. What would she eat today?

How much money did she have in her account?

The 15th was coming up, she should stock up on purple polyester in case she runs out.

Dove broke out her train of thought at the sound of someone shouting ‘miss’ over and over.

“Ms. CartWright, Please come back. Miss?” A ruffled employee said again, sighing in relief when Dove’s head swiveled at the sound of her last name. “Mr. Wayne has asked that you return to his office at once. There seems to be an issue with his suit.”

“An issue with his suit? But-” Spinelli didn’t make a mistake, she finished in her head, nodding at the employee and retracing her steps to the elevator. What could have happened, she wondered as the numbers increased at an alarming speed, showing off the superiority of Waynetech.

Her knuckles barely rapped against the smooth wood grain of his office door before the entrance gave way to reveal the surprisingly shy half-smile of Bruce Wayne.

“Sorry to call you back so soon, but I accidentally ripped the seam on the jacket.”

“Oh. Oh! Sure, let me see the tear and I’ll have it fixed in no time, Mr. Wayne.” And there it was, another smile aimed his way, just for him. Her purse that had remained hitched on her shoulder during her first visit, drooped off and fell to hang from her covered forearm. It opened with a light ‘click’ giving access to the emergency sewing kit she had.

“I put it on my desk so I didn’t ruin it further.” The apprentice strolled up to the piece of furniture, kit in hand and ready to take on the task. The structure of her blazer wasn’t too restricting, it would allow her enough mobility to give her best effort.

“Okay let’s see what...Oh, wow. Mr. Wayne, this is-”

“You can fix it, right?”

“Of course, I know a trick or two.” A third smile. Bruce could feel an addiction forming. “I’ll show you why Spinelli agreed to mentor me.”

Bruce watched as she settled her supplies and entered a zone. Her body mindlessly gathered the garment and created a station on the coffee table. Her fingers made no unnecessary movement. She took a second to decide her course of action.

“How about I order you dinner as a thank you?” Though he really wanted to take her out, he knew it was best to start slow. Watching her covered yet tempting form relax into his furniture was more than enough at the moment. If only her hair hadn’t been restrained into a bun just like the one she wore two days ago. What would her hair look like untamed? How did she wear it outside of work?

Her head leaned as she thought about the pros and cons of accepting free dinner from Gotham’s most coveted bachelor.

“Sure, I’ll have a wagyu steak covered in gold, please.” The sharp exhale of amusement eased her mind. This was the perfect time to build a repertoire with him, a little humor could go a long way.

“Gold doesn’t taste like anything remarkable, so I advise against it. But the steak is a good choice.”

“You don’t have to really, Mr. Wayne. I was joking.” Bruce disagreed. He did, it would be an even exchange for gawking at her exposed legs while she worked unaware.

“Maybe so, but now you put the craving in my mouth. And please, call me Bruce.”

Dove paused to think once again. Who was she, at the end of the day, to tell a multi-billionaire how to spend his money? If he wants to humor her with premium steak, it’d be stupid to protest.

“First name basis, already? I feel so special. Let’s add caviar to it.”

“Whatever you want, Dove.” And he meant it. The sensation of saying her name riled him. He wanted to say it again.

One more time.

Prettyyyyy,

Your reaction was the perfect thing to start my week off with. I swear my heart is full right now. I loved reading your analysis. Bruce’s behavior is inspired a bit by Joe from You because I found the narration of the show so interesting. Hopefully I don’t make them too alike.

The added layers of class and race difference is something I wanted to dive into in a mundane way. Yes classism and racism affects every part of life for those oppressed by it, but its often done in a way that can’t be confronted.

I was already working on the next chapter but now its time to order a coffee so I can get to business. I can’t wait to see how you react to the next chapter

💛💛

Let's Add Caviar To It

My inspiration has been resurrected and it would be unfair to not use it in this series. I never thought I'd write this much for this story, but now its getting its own masterlist and taglist. Comment if you want to be tagged for future updates

Masterlist and Series Masterlist

Taglist: @prettyvintageafternoon

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: cursing, obsessive Bruce Wayne

When Bruce first met Dove, the sky had just opened up for the third time that week. The rain made wonderful background noise as he stood upon a platform, staying completely still as his tailor made adjustments to the newest suit in his collection. She stood behind the man, measuring tape around her neck and a kettle of tea in her hands, dressed head to toe in knock-offs.

Her shoes were fake Luis Vuitton and the purse she carefully placed at her workstation had to be fake Fendi. Her slacks, though in style, looked like they came from a discount store. Her shirt was the worst offender, the signature Burberry plaid printed all wrong. Anyone that didn’t know designer would be fooled. The older women of Wayne Industries would call her attempt offensive.

Bruce thought she looked lovely.

As the appointment went on, his sharp gaze followed her captivating form travel in and out the room. Dedication bled through her every action. This woman moved with an eagerness to learn everything she could from her mentor. She had enough knowledge about the business to complete a task before Spinelli could call out her name.

“I’ll make sure to deliver the suit two days from now, Mr. Wayne,” Spinelli announced after taking the last measurement. When Bruce failed to respond, the old man a glance up. His highest paying customer had set his focus elsewhere. To the side of the podium, tucked away behind fabrics and order lists, where Spinelli had set up his apprentice to work.

“Mr. Wayne?” That time, the tailor gained Bruce’s attention.

“I just remembered that I have been invited to the mayor’s birthday dinner. This time deliver it to my office.”

“Oh?”

“Is that possible?”

“Yes, of course. Whatever you want, Mr. Wayne.” Bruce’s focus drifted back to the young woman tucked away, working hard and not paying him any mind. Whatever he wants?

Two days had passed agonizingly slow for him. Between fighting crime and leading his company to new heights of success, his mind never strayed far from her. His morning thoughts revolved around her, curious about what she looked like fresh out of bed. Catapulting through the rain slickened streets of his city, he wondered if she had any hobbies or what she did to unwind. After shaking a shareholder’s hand, Bruce imagined what she smelled like and how soft were those working hands of hers, and if she touched his suit with them.

By the time Dove made it to Wayne Towers and knocked on his door for the delivery, Bruce had dug up the bare bones of her life. Where she lived - near Sheldon Station- what subway line she rode -the number 2 line all the way to the Fashion District where she walks the rest of the way to Spinelli- if she lived with anyone -just a roommate that’s barely home and pretends to forget about paying their share of the rent- and how old she was -mid-twenties and she just celebrated a birthday.

“Mr. Wayne. I have your suit, sir.”

“Thank you. I don’t believe we’ve introduced ourselves yet. I’m Bruce Wayne, but I’m sure you knew that.” A small snort she failed to suppress warmed his being. That’s good, humor is a key factor in a long-lasting relationship.

“Dove CartWright, sir. I’ve been Mister Spinelli’s apprentice for the past few months.” Her voice coated her words in honey, unknowingly making her all the more appealing to him. Bruce could hear it now, the sound of her sleep-laden voice croaking out a rough ‘good morning’ from their bed as he paces around the room getting ready for work.

“Spinelli hasn’t taken on an apprentice in a long time. You must be deadly with a needle and thread.” Her eyebrows shot up an inch at his alluded compliment. Apparently, the news and local anecdotes were true. Bruce Wayne was a charmer.

“Thank you, sir. I came into his store with a few tricks and talents but he’s been wonderful sharing his expertise. I watched him tailor your suit and it was like a work of art how he did it.” Only watched, he wanted to ask.

“I’ve been going to Spinelli since I was a boy. I don’t know a better tailor,” Bruce replied, taking the garment bag and unzipping it to peek inside. Pristine black fabric greeted him. He let out an audible hum to telegraph his satisfaction.

While he inspected the suit, Dove stood still as a statue, running the tip of her painted fingertips along the edge of her skirt. Did he make her nervous? “Good as always.”

“He’ll be happy to know that. Enjoy your evening, Mr. Wayne.” Her body wobbled for a minute, trying to figure out what the proper farewell gesture would be for a tailor’s apprentice to give her employer’s most important customer who was simultaneously the CEO of the richest company in the western hemisphere.

Bruce would remember the smile she gifted him as she departed for the rest of his life. They weren’t the whitest teeth he’d ever seen or the straightest. The gap between her incisors induced an extra pump in his heart. Gapped teeth, something so plebian to fixate on, yet he did. It made her endearing. He wanted to see it again.

He had to see her again. Already the warmness of her presence had vanished, plummeting the CEO back into the usual callousness that was his life. He just needed to see her one more time. See her toss a smile at him one more time. Show him that gap in her pretty teeth one more time.

Dove kept her shoulders square as she strutted out the elevator into the lobby of Wayne Industries. Her job was officially over for the day, freeing her mind to think about the personal side of her life. What would she eat today?

How much money did she have in her account?

The 15th was coming up, she should stock up on purple polyester in case she runs out.

Dove broke out her train of thought at the sound of someone shouting ‘miss’ over and over.

“Ms. CartWright, Please come back. Miss?” A ruffled employee said again, sighing in relief when Dove’s head swiveled at the sound of her last name. “Mr. Wayne has asked that you return to his office at once. There seems to be an issue with his suit.”

“An issue with his suit? But-” Spinelli didn’t make a mistake, she finished in her head, nodding at the employee and retracing her steps to the elevator. What could have happened, she wondered as the numbers increased at an alarming speed, showing off the superiority of Waynetech.

Her knuckles barely rapped against the smooth wood grain of his office door before the entrance gave way to reveal the surprisingly shy half-smile of Bruce Wayne.

“Sorry to call you back so soon, but I accidentally ripped the seam on the jacket.”

“Oh. Oh! Sure, let me see the tear and I’ll have it fixed in no time, Mr. Wayne.” And there it was, another smile aimed his way, just for him. Her purse that had remained hitched on her shoulder during her first visit, drooped off and fell to hang from her covered forearm. It opened with a light ‘click’ giving access to the emergency sewing kit she had.

“I put it on my desk so I didn’t ruin it further.” The apprentice strolled up to the piece of furniture, kit in hand and ready to take on the task. The structure of her blazer wasn’t too restricting, it would allow her enough mobility to give her best effort.

“Okay let’s see what...Oh, wow. Mr. Wayne, this is-”

“You can fix it, right?”

“Of course, I know a trick or two.” A third smile. Bruce could feel an addiction forming. “I’ll show you why Spinelli agreed to mentor me.”

Bruce watched as she settled her supplies and entered a zone. Her body mindlessly gathered the garment and created a station on the coffee table. Her fingers made no unnecessary movement. She took a second to decide her course of action.

“How about I order you dinner as a thank you?” Though he really wanted to take her out, he knew it was best to start slow. Watching her covered yet tempting form relax into his furniture was more than enough at the moment. If only her hair hadn’t been restrained into a bun just like the one she wore two days ago. What would her hair look like untamed? How did she wear it outside of work?

Her head leaned as she thought about the pros and cons of accepting free dinner from Gotham’s most coveted bachelor.

“Sure, I’ll have a wagyu steak covered in gold, please.” The sharp exhale of amusement eased her mind. This was the perfect time to build a repertoire with him, a little humor could go a long way.

“Gold doesn’t taste like anything remarkable, so I advise against it. But the steak is a good choice.”

“You don’t have to really, Mr. Wayne. I was joking.” Bruce disagreed. He did, it would be an even exchange for gawking at her exposed legs while she worked unaware.

“Maybe so, but now you put the craving in my mouth. And please, call me Bruce.”

Dove paused to think once again. Who was she, at the end of the day, to tell a multi-billionaire how to spend his money? If he wants to humor her with premium steak, it’d be stupid to protest.

“First name basis, already? I feel so special. Let’s add caviar to it.”

“Whatever you want, Dove.” And he meant it. The sensation of saying her name riled him. He wanted to say it again.

One more time.