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cozy-the-overlord · 4 years

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Getaway Car

A/N: Again, based off the Taylor Swift song of the same name, which also happens to be my favorite off of Reputation (sensing a pattern here?). I also was heavily inspired by the movie Smokey and the Bandit, which is one of the best comedies of all time change my mind.

Everything had been going so well until he almost hit the bride.

The transaction had been clean, quiet, just like Anderson had promised. Mike disposed of the guards while Tristan loaded the cars, and soon enough they were off in different directions, gone long before the sirens and the red tape.

All Tristan had left to do was deliver Anderson’s cut, which was to be dropped off at a park two hours away. Dump the car for the new one, and that was it—he was free to go and live his life, a million dollars richer.

Yes, everything was going perfectly. Then the bride dashed out in front of his hood, the white mass seeming to materialize out of the manicured shrubbery on the side of the road.

“What?!”

He hit the breaks and cranked the wheel, tires screeching to the smell of burnt rubber as the car careened to a stop inches in front of the hem of her stained skirt. The woman regarded his bumper with an airy sort of indifference before marching around to the passenger’s side and yanking the door open.

“What the hell are you doing?” he yelled at her as she flung the two bags she was holding into the back.

“I need a ride,” she said. She crawled into the seat, cursing as the tulle of her veil caught the door. “Damn this dress.” There was the sound of fabric ripping, and she flung half of the offending lace to the side of the road. The door closed with a slam.

“Does this thing move?” she asked.

Tristan just stared at her.

“Well, come on, dude! I don’t have all day!” She began fumbling with what remained of her veil, yanking out bobby pins and dropping them on the carpeted floor. “Can we go?”

“Go where?” was all he could think to ask.

She laughed. “East? West? North? South? I don’t give a shit, long’s it’s not here.” Her hair tumbled down from its loosened bun and curled around her ears.

Tristan thought of the two million in the trunk. “This isn’t Uber,” he said.

“No shit. If it were Uber, we’d be gone by now.” She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Look, I’ll pay you for gas or whatever. Please, can we just go? Harry’ll be showing up any minute, and I don’t want to be here when he does.”

Tristan opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Alright.” And they were off again.

The bride didn’t say anything for a while. Tristan kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to stare without staring. She was futzing around with her dress, wriggling about on the seat as fabric rustled. He didn’t understand what she was trying to accomplish until he heard a zipper unzipping.

“What are you doing?” he cried out, whipping his gaze to the road as his cheeks burned.

“Exactly what it looks like.” She pulled the balloon of a gown over her head and pushed it out the window. “Don’t look.” The seat buzzed as she lowered its back and climbed over it to rummage through her bags. “Don’t worry,” she called out. “I’ll be decent in a sec.”

“Great,” he mumbled.

The runaway bride let out a sigh. “Oh, it feels good to look like a normal person again. That damn dress was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever put on in my life. I looked like a fucking pastry.” She climbed back into the front seat, and Tristan was beyond relieved to see that she was now clad in a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. His guest fumbled with the seatbelt for a moment, never breaking off the conversation.

“It was Harry’s mother who insisted on that one. ‘Oh, it balances out your figure so well, you just have to take it!’ And I was like ‘I’ll buy anything if it means I don’t have to deal with your bullshit for any longer’ so we picked it out and here we are.” The seatbelt clicked, and she relaxed against the cushion. “I’m Eris, by the way. I’d shake your hand, but you know, you’re driving.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he stuttered. Should he give her his real name? Anderson said to keep a low profile, but this was kind of out of the ordinary. But what if she wasn’t who she said she was?

The woman was staring at him with raised eyebrows, her gaze overflowing with silent judgment.

Say something, you idiot!

“Tristan,” he finally spat out. “My name is Tristan.”

Eris smiled. “A pleasure to meet you, Tristan.” She leaned forward. “I did mean what I said, about paying you for this. I know it’s all kind of crazy, me just straight up hijacking your trip, but thanks for helping me out.”

“Uh… no problem.” No, big problem, but he didn’t know how to say that without screwing things up more. “I-uh- I take it that we have an angry groom behind us somewhere?”

She laughed humorlessly. “Oh yeah. Harry’ll be pissed. Though not as pissed as his mother, I’m sure. That lady’s a crazy old bat. She goes on a rampage when they give her the wrong dressing at restaurants; I can’t imagine what she’s doing now.”

“What happened?” he asked.

Eris sighed, twitching uncomfortably. “Nothing really happened,” she said. “It was all going fine, I just… I didn’t want to marry him. I ought to have broken up with him a while ago, because we just weren’t working out, but then he had this surprise proposal at my birthday party and… well I couldn’t say no, could I? All of his friends and family were there! How cruel would that be?”

Tristan frowned. “Less cruel than leaving him at the altar?”

“Probably…” She sighed once more, slumping back in her seat. “But it’s too late now. What can you do?” In a moment, she had perked up again. “So what about you? What’s your story?”

Momentary panic rang through his ears. “I’m running an errand for a friend.”

“Wow,” Eris leaned forward, resting her head on her fist and her elbow on the armrest. “That is fascinatingly vague. What type of errand?”

“Nothing interesting.”

“Doesn’t look that way.”

“Well, it is that way.”

“Did you steal something?”

Tristan’s heart was pounding harder than during the robbery. “No.”

“Did you kill somebody?”

“What?” He whipped around to look at her. She returned his gaze with complete seriousness. “Of course not!”

“Then what’s the errand?”

“I’m just delivering something for him.” There. That would be the end of it, right?

“Oooh… Drugs?”

“No!”

Eris exploded into giggles, stretching back towards the window. “I’m just teasing you. No offense, but you don’t seem that interesting.”

“Oh, yeah…” Relief swept through his chest. “None taken.”

“You look so nervous,” she laughed. “Am I really that frightening?”

“No, no, of course not,” Tristan stuttered. “You’re not—I’m not nervous.”

Eris laughed even harder. “You remind me of one of my exes,” she said. “He was so uncomfortable around women—”

“I’m not uncomfortable around women!”

“—that whenever I was anywhere near him, he could barely get a coherent sentence out.” Eris smiled. “Yeah, he was a cutie. Real gentlemanly, too. He would like, pick up my napkin when it fell or some shit like that. I bet you’ll do that too when you get a girlfriend.”

Tristan bristled. “What makes you think I don’t have a girlfriend?”

She shrugged, placing her feet on the dashboard. “I can tell.”

“There’s no way you can tell!”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I—” Quite suddenly, he felt like a buffoon. “No.”

Eris smirked. “Then I can tell.”

“I—whatever.” Tristan turned his focus back to the road in a poor attempt to save face. He shouldn’t be focusing on her. She was a distraction, and the sooner he was rid of her, the better. Anderson wouldn’t be happy if he showed up to the drop-off with some babbling ex-bride in tow.

A sign up ahead warned him that they were approaching a town, finally leaving the fields and forests behind them. There was still about an hour left to the park, but the rest went through towns and small cities. Tristan’s pulse spiked in his neck. Towns meant more people, and more people meant more police. Anderson had assured him that if he obeyed traffic laws, the police had no reason to pull him over—after all, they wouldn’t have any idea who the thieves were or what cars they were driving—but still, his grip on the wheel tightened.

Eris seemed oblivious to his increased discomfort. In contrast, she appeared more relaxed than she had the whole trip, mindlessly picking at the skin by her thumbnail as she watched streetlights go by.

“So where exactly are you dropping off this errand for your friend?” she asked.

“Uh… Dowridge,” he replied distractedly, scanning the increasingly busy road. Now they were behind a rickety old pickup truck puttering along well under the speed limit. Hurry up, asshole.

“Oh, Dowridge! That’s perfect! My cousin owns a restaurant there. You can drop me off there. It shouldn’t be out of your way.”

“Great.” There was a police car behind him. His heart was pounding. It’s okay, it’s okay, they don’t have their lights on, it’s okay…

“It’s kind of funny how she ended up with the restaurant,” Eris was saying. “You see, she had been working as a waitress to try and get through college, and the guy who owned it—”

A siren pierced through the air.

“Oh no.” Their lights were on now. They must know. Something must have gone wrong, and they found out. With a shaking hand, Tristan reached for the turn signal.

“No!” Eris grabbed his wrist. Her face had gone white as snow. “Don’t pull over,” she hissed. “Whatever you do, don’t fucking pull over.”

“What?” He barely heard himself over the wailing of the siren. “You don’t understand, they’re after me—”

“They’re after me,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, someone must’ve seen me get into your car—”

“Why would they care about a runaway bride?” snapped Tristan. “It’s the money, they know about the money—” He made to pull to the side of the road. What should he do? Play dumb? But they’re here, they must know… He looked at Eris, who was hunched over in the passenger seat, white knuckled. He shouldn’t have picked her up. They’d arrest her as an accomplice. He’d tell them that she had nothing to do with it—

The police car whizzed past them, siren and all. Tristan and Eris watched as it pulled behind the pickup truck. For several moments, the two sat in stunned silence.

Eris burst into laughter.

“Holy shit!” she chortled. “Holy fucking shit! I’ve never been so fucking scared in my whole life!” With a hoot, she slapped his shoulder as she dissolved into a pit of unintelligible giggles.

The rush of adrenaline was still thudding through Tristan’s eardrums, so much so that all he could muster was a shaky grin, which seemed to set Eris off even more.

“You—” she wheezed. “You look like you just shat your pants!” And she howled even louder.

It was a good minute before she got ahold of herself, and once she did, she snapped back into her inquisitive mode so quickly that Tristan jumped.

“What money?” she demanded.

“W-what?” he asked nervously.

“What money?” she repeated, emphasizing each word with a thrust of her shoulders. “You thought the police car was coming for you because of ‘the money.’ What money? I assume this has something to do with your top-secret errand for a friend?”

“I—” Oh no. He was screwed. He was so screwed. “What about you?” he countered. “You were positive that they were after you. Why? Surely Harry wouldn’t call the police just because you dumped him?”

“Oh, he would,” she said. “But not because I dumped him. You see”—she reached into the backseat to grab one of the bags she had been carrying— “before I ran for it, while I was still in the throes of my mental breakdown, I kinda-sorta-maybe went through his mother’s jewelry box.”

“Wait—what?” Tristan stared as Eris pulled out diamond pendants and strings of pearls, a never-ending train of precious gemstones on silver chains. “Are those all—”

“Real? Yep. And worth millions, too.” She shoved the tangle mass back into her bag. “That old hag was always bragging about her diamonds and her emeralds and her pearls and goodness knows what else. Rich bitch. She made my life hell when I was living with Harry—he couldn’t make a damn decision without her approval. She even insisted that the wedding take place in her fancy mansion. So, when I left, I wanted to stick it to her.” Eris looked up at him expectantly. “Alright. I’ve confessed. It’s your turn.”

“I—” He shouldn’t. He should deny everything, say it’s all a misunderstanding. Tell anyone, and he could spend the rest of his life in a cell. Anderson had been very clear about that. And yet, she was looking up at him so earnestly, so eagerly, her eyes so wide… They were greenest eyes he’d ever seen. The color of seaweed floating on waves, piercing through his soul. She wouldn’t turn him in. Somehow, he was sure of it.

“A friend of mine and I robbed an armored truck earlier today, on my boss’s orders.” He whispered the confession, almost afraid that someone else would overhear. “We’re splitting the money three ways. My friend took his million and drove the other direction. I took the other two. They’re in the trunk.” Eris’s green eyes flitted towards the back of the car. “I’m dropping one million off with my boss, then I’m taking my cut and going off.”

“Going off where?” she whispered.

“I…I don’t know. I haven’t planned that far ahead,” Tristan’s cheeks burned. Saying it out loud made him feel even stupider than when he thought it. He had never been much of a planner. That was Anderson’s job. Tristan had always operated on a more “figure-it-out-as-I-go” mindset, but that became increasingly more difficult when the thing he had to figure out was how to take care of millions of stolen dollars.

Eris stared at him, cocking her head to the side as she did. A smile broke across her face. “Tristan,” she said. “It seems that I was wrong about you. You are far more interesting than you at first appear.”

He smiled shyly.

“So,” she continued. “I assume we’re still going to Dowridge? Because we might want to get a move on.”

“Oh, yeah—I mean yes, let’s go.” He pulled the car out of park and continued back down the road. If it were possible, Eris was even more talkative now than she had been when she first jumped into his vehicle. She wanted to know every little detail about the “Grand Theft Armored” as she called it. What did the truck look like? How many guards were there? How long did it take to plan? Was it an inside job—did one of his accomplices work for the truck company? How did they know how much would be in there? How did they get the truck to stop? Was there a fight?

“Honestly, I wasn’t that involved with the whole thing,” he told her. “Originally it was just Mike and Anderson. I only got brought in when they realized that they needed a third person.”

“Why’d they decide on you?” she asked. “I mean, you’re putting major faith in a person once you offer them a role. They must’ve put a lot of thought into picking you.”

Tristan had wondered about that as well. Why, out of all the people they knew, did Mike and Anderson decide to let him in on their game plan?

“Well, I follow instructions well,” he said. “I keep confidential matters confidential. And I could use the money.”

Eris scoffed. “It’s a million fucking dollars! We could all use it.” She leaned towards him. “You know why I think they chose you?”

Tristan laughed nervously. “Why?”

“Because you don’t ask questions. If they tell you to do something, you’ll do it without arguing about it or trying to change things up. They can rely on you to just eat up their orders and shit out profits.” Tristan opened his mouth to argue, but Eris shushed him and continued. “I mean, think about it! How long did it take you to ask what the hell I was doing after I jumped into your car?”

“I—” Tristan didn’t know what to say. He prickled, under attack but unsure of how to defend himself.

“By the time you finally asked for an explanation, I had already changed into a new outfit and chucked the old one out the window,” she laughed. “That’s why Anderson had you take the extra million, and not Mike—he doesn’t trust Mike to bring him his money. But he knows that you’ll do it, without question.”

“You’re making me sound like a puppet.” His voice came out far poutier than Tristan intended, and internally he cringed.

“You are a puppet,” she replied, stroking his shoulder. “A very rich puppet.”

Tristan tried to focus on the road, but his mind kept taking him back to Anderson. Was it true? Was he really nothing but a mindless puppet? He remembered when Anderson had first called him up with the proposition. Eris was right—he hadn’t questioned anything. He had been nervous, of course, regarding the police and the guards and the sheer pressure of carrying two million dollars, but Anderson had assured him that it was all planned out and that he had nothing to worry about, and Tristan hadn’t questioned it. At the time, he couldn’t get over how lucky he was to be given this opportunity. Now, his pathetic nature made him want to retch.

Eris’s hand moved down from his shoulder to stroke his forearm. “I’ve made you angry,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. We can talk about something else.”

“No.” Tristan surprised himself with how firm he sounded. “No, you’re right. I’ve let Anderson walk over me for far too long. I can’t keep being his puppet.”

Eris looked up at him, a mischievous grin in her seaweed eyes. “What are you going to do?”

“I—I don’t know.” The firmness had now completely drained from his voice. What a shock. “What do you think I should do?”

“Well,” she said, leaning up against his shoulder. “For starters, I wouldn’t bring him a million dollars.”

Tristan gawked at her. “Oh, no! I can’t do that!” he cried out. “That’s his—he planned this whole thing out. I wouldn’t even have the money if it weren’t for him!”

“So what if he planned the whole thing out? He was too lazy to show up to the actually robbery.” She lifted herself up so that her breath tickled his ear. “Think about it—if he was actually invested in this plan, he wouldn’t have needed to hire you.”

“But… It’s not right! It’s his!”

“And he’s welcome to get it. If he wants it, he can come to you. He shouldn’t expect you to scamper across the country like a glorified delivery boy just because he had one decent idea.” Eris returned to his shoulder. “You want him to stop using you like a puppet? You have to show him that you’re not a puppet.” With a contented sigh, she lapsed into silence.

Tristan hesitated. “So… should I not drive to Dowridge?”

“No, no!” she smiled. “Drive to Dowridge. There’s a nifty little motel right across from the restaurant my cousin owns. You can stay there for the night. Then, if Anderson wants to get in contact, you can make him come to you.”

“Okay… but what if Anderson doesn’t get in contact?”

“Then he obviously doesn’t give a shit,” she yawned. “Or maybe he’s too proud to grovel at your feet. Shouldn’t matter to you. You’re a million dollars richer.”

“Alright.” He straightened his back, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “I’ll do it.”

“Great!” Eris squeezed his shoulder. “We can have dinner at my cousin’s restaurant. The food’s shit, but she lets me eat for free!”

The restaurant she had him park across the street from a little while later turned out to be more of a café sort of place, a little hole in the wall eatery in a little hole in the wall town. Eris ordered their food, then ushered Tristan into a booth in the corner of the room.

“So.” She sat down with a deliberate thump.

Tristan gave an uneasy smile. “So what?”

“So, I told you all about my crazy love life. Now I want to hear all about yours.” Eris grinned.

He shrugged. “There’s not much to hear. You already know I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

“Not really…” he trailed off. “There was this one girl in high school, but that didn’t go anywhere.”

“So you haven’t gone around any of the bases? No kissing, no touching, nada?”

Tristan blushed. “Well, not exactly…”

“Oooh.” She leaned forward across the table. “Do tell!”

“Like I said, there was this one girl in high school.” Ugh. His face burnt with the memory. “She kissed me once, at a dance, and I didn’t know what to do.”

Eris laughed. “What do you mean you didn’t know what to do? Kiss her back!”

“Well, yeah.” Why was he telling her this? It was so pathetic. “I got that part, but I meant after.”

“After?”

“Yeah. After she kissed me, she looked up at me like she was expecting me to do something, but I didn’t know what, so I just stared at her for a long time. Finally I left because I had to use the restroom.”

“Tristan!” Eris sounded exasperated.

“I’m sorry!” He held his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t know what I was supposed to do!”

She sighed, then leaned closer to him, resting her hands on the table so that she was sprawled across it. Her face was inches from his, her green eyes sparkling like the ocean.

“Let me show you,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his.

At first Tristan stiffened, alarm bells ringing through his skull. But as she pressed in closer, gently caressing his thigh with her fingertips, he relaxed into the kiss. Without thinking, his hand came up to cradle her head through her hair, and she leaned into his palm.

Finally, he pulled away, reluctantly desperate for air. She looked at him expectantly.

“What do I do?” he whispered.

“Kiss me again,” she replied. “Kiss me again and again and again.”

And so he did.

He didn’t remember asking her to spend the night with him, but he must’ve, because an hour later they were in the motel room, kissing and caressing and she was running her fingers through his hair and his phone was ringing but he didn’t care because it didn’t matter…

“Do you want me to show you?” she whispered in his ear.

“Yes,” he whispered back. “Please.”

That night, he fell into a sound sleep, unaware of the creaking of the ancient mattress, his only thoughts to the woman tangled up with him.

He was happy.

He was really, really happy.

The pounding of the door awoke him in the morning.

“Police! Open up!”

“What…?” His head was cloudy. He reached for Eris, but she wasn’t there.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

His skull rattled with each punch to the door.

“Police! Open up!”

They had found him. Somehow, they had found him. Tristan fumbled about for his clothes. Where was Eris? Had they gotten her too?

The door burst open and several costumed officers flooded in, hands on their firearms. Tristan’s arms flew up to the ceiling.

“I’m unarmed! I’m unarmed!” he yelled.

Everything happened so fast. Somebody began patting him down, another person was reading his rights, another was rummaging through the meager furniture in the room, and then he was on the floor, barely hearing the click when the handcuffs closed around his wrists.

“Where’s the money?” somebody was asking him. “Where did you hide it?”

“Just tell us,” another voice joined in. “It will make everything easier on yourself.”

“The money?” Tristan mumbled. “We left the money on the table…”

Someone let loose an exasperated sigh. “Come on. You’re caught. We know you did it. Where’d you put the money?”

“On the table! On the table!” Tristan cried. “It was in a duffle bag on the table. Eris told me to—”

Eris.

“How’d you find me?” he whispered.

“Anonymous call from a woman early this morning,” came the first voice. “Now why don’t you make things easier for yourself and tell us where the two million dollars are.”

“She took it!” he yelled, wriggling uselessly. “She took the money and called! She took it! She took it!”

Stupid. He was so fucking stupid.

“Sir, I need you to calm down,” someone was saying. “You can tell us the name of your accomplice. Please sir, just calm down…”

Eris watched as they took him out of the motel. It was fairly early in the morning, but still, a small crowd had gathered about the blinking police cars to see what all the fuss was about. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see when they brought him out—maybe he would be struggling, cursing her name, screaming that it wasn’t his fault—but perhaps she should’ve known what she would see. Tristan walked out completely subdued, not making a sound, only making the bare minimum effort when it came to walking down the stairs. When they put him into the car, he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. It was depressing.

She sighed and ordered another coffee.

It wasn’t her fault. He should’ve known better than to trust her. Someone involved in such a well-planned robbery should at least have some level of common sense. It was his own idiocy that got him arrested, nothing more. Had she not come along, there would’ve been someone else, someone smarter, someone crueler, who would take it all away from him. It was only a matter of time.

She should be happy. In less than a day, she had managed to bamboozle two unsuspecting men out of their fortunes. Yesterday, she had been a nothing, completely dependent upon her future husband for any sort of respect. Today, she was independent and rich.

Yet conning Tristan had none of the satisfaction that had come with conning Harry. Harry was an asshole born and raised, who could get anything and everything he wanted and knew it. Bringing him pain had been sweet.

Tristan, on the other hand, was kind. Honest. Genuine. He didn’t deserve to be hunched in the backseat of a police car, speeding off towards a jail cell. It wasn’t fair. And yet, neither was life. Every woman for herself, and all that.

The waitress brought her a new mug, and she drained it within a minute.

“Later, coz!” she yelled at the kitchen.

Her cousin popped her chubby head out the door. “Leaving already Er? Where are you going now?”

Eris shrugged. “Who knows? Wherever the road takes me, I guess.” She chuckled. “Maybe I can pick up another rich husband along the way.”

Her cousin grinned. “Good luck!”

Eris tipped her head and strolled out the door.

#taylor swift #reputation #getaway car #songfic #smokey and the bandit #lol i still have no clue what i'm doing #does anyone actually read these things

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shirewalker · 6 years

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tag games!

I’ll just tag a few people and then you choose your fave games, ok?

tagging @alarkvling @artemeis @ohmystarsy @captainvkirk @theleiaskywalker @lilabard @detmeter @starkova @caradocdearborn @julliettesferrars @roryglimore

all games under the cut

1st game! Ten Questions Tag Game

tagged by @aesterea

How messy is your writing process?

Not as messy as it should be, I think. I’ve always been a perfectionist and unlearning that when being creative (doing first drafts, etc) is HARD. So I can’t say it’s messy-messy, but I try to make it a little messier so I can move on with things xD

Do you plan/outline before you write?

Oh yeah, yeah I do. Sometimes it’s just a paragraph with the general gist of the thing, other times I just develop the story in my head, but I always do some level of planning/outlining before writing. I wouldn’t be able to do it any other way tbh.

Which OCs are dearest to your heart?

The four MCs from my nano novel. I love them, so much I have to stop myself from fixing everything in one go xD

Has your own writing ever made you cry?

Nope, not really. But it takes a lot for books in general to make me cry and it’s always, always when I do a reread. You’d think I was ready for the cry triggers? Well, THINK AGAIN.

How much of yourself do you think you put into your characters?

Probably more than some people would like? I try not to do self-insert, but we’re always bound to take inspiration from ourselves. As to avoid doing it all in an obvious and ridiculous way, I try to take bits of myself and put them in different characters. A habit, a taste, a crazy situation, etc.

What do you hope to achieve through writing?

To change the world~* Lol, to tell my stories, to make others dream with me. Why do we tell stories if not to change something about the world and make others dream?

How would you describe your style?

Still trying to figure that one out.

What works of writing have influenced your style the most?

Austen, Agatha Christie, LOTR, Shatter Me (Mafi’s writing is epic ok??), The Lunar Chronicles... Every book I’ve ready has influenced me in one way or another.

Do you have a “support team”? Who’s in it?

My fanfic readers? askflakj I don’t think I have a support team other than them tbh xD

Which OC would be your best friend in real life?

aaskhdajfls I don’t know. Maybe Jean and Maeve from my nano novel. But tbh, the four Roses being my friends? That’d be awesome, ok? I’d finally have my knit-tight group of friends :’)

My questions:

What’s the earliest story you remember writing?

Which do you prefer to write? Short stories of longer ones?

Do you think your writing is ready to be seen by the world?

Which OC would be the best company when writing and which would be the worst?

Do you have a favourite world you’d give anything to visit?

Any writing rituals? Special place, special time of the day, special medium to write a draft on, etc.

What’s your favourite genre to read AND to write?

Do you have friends that write too?

If you could have a writing cottage anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Favourite author and how have they inspired you/your writing.

2nd game! 5 Things

tagged by @alarkvling

5 things you’ll find in my bag: wallet, a book, water, food, bus card 5 things you’ll find in my room: books, my bookmark-making materials, a dreamcatcher I bought last year from an american indian, my first nikolina piece printed and framed <3 5 things that make me happy: rainy days, reading an amazing book, talking with my friends for hours (it’s been a while since that tho..), a warm cup of milk/cappuccino/hot chocolate, my nerdy otps 5 things i’m currently into: writing, drawing, bookmark making, shovel knight, nikolina lol 5 things on my to-do list: pass driving code exam, have a fun bday, be a better person, improve my writing, get a decent job.

3rd game! Music Game

tagged by @artemeis

rules: set your entire (I don’t have all my music in one place lol) music library on shuffle and report the first ten songs that pop up.

The River by The Family Crest

Tell Me If You Wanna Go Home by Keira Knightley

La Vie En Rose by Louis Armstrong

Superstar by Broods

Make You Believe by Lucy Hale

Coming Up Roses by Keira Knightley

Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift

Howl by The Family Crest

Conscious by Broods

So It Goes... by Taylor Swift

4th game! I’ve never...

rules: list 10 curious things you’ve never done and tag 10 people

I’ve never had a sleepover

I’ve never had my first kiss

I’ve never worn contacts

I’ve never been to a nightclub

I’ve never gone farther than Seville (outside country)

I’ve never had birthday surprises (the good ones ofc)

I’ve never seen snow other than the tiny flurry we had over a year ago (so like, not the kind you see all white and stuff)

I’ve never been to another continent

I’ve never had bff(s)

I’ve never seen a musical on stage

5th game! Get To Know Me

tagged by @becpunzel

How tall are you? 154 cm which is a itsy bit over 5ft...? *shrugs*

What color are your eyes? Blue+grey+green.

Do you wear contacts and/or glasses? Glasses

Do you wear braces? No, and never had.

What is your fashion style? Cute? Girly? *shrugs* I don’t know but it’s something like that xD

When were you born? 14th March 1991

Do you have any siblings? A younger sister

What school/college do you go to? I have a degree on animation.

What kind of student are you? The kind that has to do well lol.

What are your favorite subjects? History, art, books...? xD

What are your favorite movies? Tangled, Star Wars, LOTR, Clueless, Laws of Attraction, Pacific Rim, Inception, Mad Max: Fury Road, Megamind, The Princess and the Frog, Ghibli movies, The 10th Kingdom, etc

What are your favorite pastimes? Reading, writing, drawing, trying to talk with friends I haven’t talked in a while, playing games, photography, bookmark making, making edits for books/shows/ships I love <3

Do you have any regrets? I think we all have those.

What’s your dream job? Something I’m good at and I enjoy doing and allows me a happy life.

Would you like to get married? Yeah, I would. Gotta do everything else before that point in life, starting with being remotely appealing for dating haha..

Do you want kids? Maybe one day yeah. It’s not out of the question but it’s not a must-do either.

How many countries have you visited? 2

What is your scariest dream? I went to a christmas party with all my ex-classmates from various moments in my life and I was ignored the whole dinner, my gift got stolen and no one tried to help. Probably not a traditional scary dream but it was a big-fears-fest

Do you have a significant other? Hahahaha, no.

not doing the music part since I did it in the other game already xP

6th Game! Another Get To Know

tagged by @alexclovere

Age - 26 soon 27

Birthplace - Portugal

Current time - 1:46 pm

Drink you had last - water

Easiest person to talk to - the rare close friends

Favorite song - I have a lot but lets go with a classic: Can’t Help Falling In Love

Grossest memory - (: Last year, the week before my bday. It was so much fun! not! AND SO GROSS AND AWFUL D:<

Hogwarts house - Slytherin

In Love - no :\

Jealous of people - always a little

Killed someone - ofc not wth

Love at first sight or should I walk by you again - I think you have to walk by several times and even then there’s no guarantee *shrugs*

Middle name - I don’t have

Number of siblings - one sister

One wish - a good job

Person you called last - my mom

Question you are always asked - job?????

Reason to smile - in spite of things being bad, it always gets better, even if it doesn’t feel like it. also, cute pets!

Song you sang last -Tell Me If You Wanna Go Home by Keira Knightley

Time you woke up - 9:30 am

Underwear color - huh

Worst habit - either thinking the worst is happening or thinking I’m friends with someone when they probs don’t even remember I exist

X-rays - it’s been a while

Your favorite food - pizza, homemade

Zodiac sign - Pisces

#tag games #alexclovere #tagging you so you can see since tumblr doesn't let me @ you #here's a spam of tag games pick your fave and do it! or not ofc xD

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