”Journalists are always calling my features Edwardian or Victorian, whatever that means. I am small, and people were smaller in those times. I’m pale and sickly-looking. I look fragile-like a doll. But sometimes I just wish I had less of a particular look, one that was more versatile.”
He had never been chased before and, if he had to be honest,
Carlos was actually liking it.
Mal thought he was stupid and continuously reminded him that
Pretty Boy (which she always meant as an insult, but Carlos never denied how
true it was) saw him as a conquest. Carlos was a shiny toy that was new enough
to still hold value in his eyes. And yeah, that might be true (it probably
was), but why did that mean he couldn’t enjoy it while it lasts?
Soon enough, Jay would find someone else to chase. Carlos
hadn’t been around long enough to genuinely know Jay, but he knew the
stereotype. A flirty teenage boy, hopping from fling to fling, and never
staying around. Whether or not Carlos said yes and gave into being the flavor
of the week, Jay would give up eventually when Carlos was old news.
Carlos knew that, he headed Mal’s warnings and made sure to
not get his hopes up. He would take the special attention and over the top
flirting and run with it. No one had ever adored him like that before, desired
him, and it made Carlos giddy and confident and light-headed.
It didn’t hurt either that Jay looked like something from a
romance novel. Dark skin and darker hair, less of a voice and more of a purr
when he spoke, muscles that made Carlos stare whenever they were exposed (which
was most of the time with all the sleeveless shirts Jay owned. It seemed
everyone liked Jay’s muscles and he was certainly a people pleaser).
Unfortunately, Jay’s muscles were covered on the field, but
Carlos wouldn’t have been able to see them from his distance anyway, so he
stopped pouting. Mal stood next to him, entirely uninterested in the game,
chatting idly with Evie, whose attention was evenly split between the game and
He was still deciding how he felt about Evie. The princess
was stunning and lively, enticing even. Especially to Mal. Carlos couldn’t
think of another person who got the same look from Mal as the look she gave
Evie. If Evie made Mal happy (who knew that was even possible?), she was okay
to Carlos. In fact, any other case, Evie would have been perfect.
She was Jay’s best friend and one of the only people in
Auradon immune to his charm – a trait she was very proud of. That’s why she
started hanging around him and Mal, she would follow Jay over to them.
And there was nothing wrong with being Jay’s friend; in
fact, that made Carlos like her more. The issue was that he didn’t know if Evie
liked him. She was always giving him
strange looks, particularly when Jay was around. It was like the princess was
studying him, evaluating Carlos, judging him.
If Mal was interested in someone, Carlos would probably do
the same thing for her. He would observe, consider and decide on anyone who
wanted to date her. It was part of being a friend.
But Jay didn’t want to date
him. Jay didn’t want to date anyone. Did Evie give that same thoughtful look to
everyone Jay flirted with? She would have to get tired and confused since Jay
moved so quickly and what would be the point? Did it have to do with him being
Mal’s friend, was Evie trying to decide how to get on his good side (and, by
extension, Mal’s?) or was she trying to replace him?
Carlos startled out of his musings by a shout from the crowd
in front of him. They were hollering at a person barreling through, gesturing
and looking around wildly.
“What on Earth is he doing?” Evie murmured and she was
hardly heard over the noise.
The announcer’s voice boomed across the field. “One of the players, number 8, Jay, has left
the tourney field and is climbing into the bleachers on the south side. There
are less than five minutes in the game, what is he trying?”
Sure enough, when the distraction in front of them got
close, closer, right in front of them, Carlos could see a handsome face beneath
“Jay!” Evie hissed. “What’s going on?”
But he ignored her. “Carlos,” he was breathless and sweating
after nearly a whole game of tourney, a wild look in his eyes that was a
combination of scary and sexy, “I am not leaving this spot until you let me
take you to dinner.”
“Is-is he really
talking to another student right now? Jay, get on the field!”
Evie pushed Jay softly. “Get back on the field, you’re going
to cost the school the game!”
Jay shot her a fleeting look, smirk in place. “Not if I make
it back on time.” He turned back to Carlos. “I’m not leaving until you say yes.”
He raised his voice over the roar of the crowd, everyone shouting and begging
for one of the star players to return.
“I-I-, bu-but, you have to-to…” Nothing was making sense.
“I’m not hearing a yes.”
“Jay, this is the semi-finals,” Evie nearly screamed. “You
can’t blow this!”
“Just say yes.”
Evie leaned past Mal, who looked utterly bewildered (but
much more interested in the game) and grabbed Carlos, panic in her eyes. “The
school will freak if we lose. Just tell him yes!”
“The coach is trying
for a time out, but there are no breaks except for emergencies in the final
quarter. Just a bit more than three minutes left and Jay is still off the
“One dinner. That’s it. If you say no to me after that, I’ll
be done. Just one dinner, Carlos.”
“Yes, fine, yes! Just get back on the field, go!”
Under the helmet, Carlos caught a wide grin and excited
eyes. Jay turned away and ran back down the bleachers (Carlos would forever be
grateful that Evie insisted they sit closer to field, toward the bottom,
instead of being isolated at the very top like Mal tried for).
“Three minutes left and
Jay has finally returned to the field. I’m sure he will be in huge trouble with
his team, but for now, he is running toward the goal, receiving a pass from
Carlos refused to turn even though he could feel both girls
staring at him. He ignored people in the rows in front of them, glancing behind
to stare and murmur at him.
“What the hell was that about?” It was the first time Mal
had spoken about an event in the game and her voice had Carlos jumping.
“I’m…not sure. Jay’s never done anything like that. Never.”
If he turned to look at them (which he was still refusing to
do), Evie would be giving him one of those intense, thoughtful looks. Carlos
still didn’t know what they meant and he was more confused than ever.
He had been trying so hard to keep in mind that this thing
with Jay was nothing special – at least not to Jay. He had resisted every picnic
proposition, movie invitation and even one-on-one study sessions.
And now he was going to dinner with the guy who made a
spectacle in front of the whole school just to get his attention.
What the hell has he gotten himself into?
He dared a glance at the girls. Mal was snarling at the
people staring at them while Evie just watched him. Was she smiling? Evie had
never been mean or even cold to him, but she had never smiled at Carlos either.
She raised a finger to her lips and tilted her head. “You
must certainly be something special, Carlos.”
“Jay has good tastes.”
He ignored both girls’ compliments and stared into the
field, not focused on the game one bit.
“With less than a
minute left, the Auradon Knights have won the semi-finals! Let’s hear it for
One of the main villian in my webcomic series. She was based off a book called Carmilla that only suck blood of female victims. They always pictured her having a red hair. She is pretty much a lesbian in the book. Mine character she still drink blood of female victims. There are some lil changes of her that she is bi and mixed. Her father is Dracula and her mother is a Succubus. I haven’t finished her concept yet there are still three left. You can find them on my twitter where she has two forms of a bat and chimera.
On Saturday I went to the opera with a friend and we started putting together an Objectively Perfect romantic fantasy. It goes like this:
SHE is a high-powered highly paid something in the City. Executives tremble before her. She is in her forties and wears exquisitely tailored suits and works fourteen hour days. She does not have time for love.
YOU are a poverty-stricken late-twenties millennial who will never be able to afford a house.
You meet by chance (you are a waitress at a corporate event, perhaps.) She has been thinking of setting up a mistress for a while. She buys you a cottage in the country. She does not live there: she has a flat in central London worth seven figures. Every other weekend she comes down to visit you, in your cottage, and her only requirements are that you need to have cooked something and you should be wearing a low-cut top. She has given you a credit card so you can buy the kind of clothes she likes to see you in. She really does not mind what you do with yourself the rest of the time. Every once in a while she needs a date to an event (an opera, gallery opening, colleague’s wedding to his fourth wife). Sometimes this involves flying you out to New York. The flight is always business class.
She is pretty bossy in the bedroom, but you’re into that.
Eventually you fall in love, but it takes a while because she is so, so busy. Meanwhile you look after your little cottage, practice cooking delicious food, and work on your book. It is heaven.
so i’m sure the
remake of a timeless classic that disney is about to roll out is
going to be great and all
but here’s another
way we could do things:
he’s the beauty
she’s the beast
for a movie who’s
central theme is inner beauty, it doesn’t really do anything to support that,
you know? so how about this: adam, our prince turned beast, isn’t an
inhospitable monster. because this back story doesn’t make any sense – why is the young prince of this
land alone, in a castle, only to be caught unaware by a witch?
so how about this –
this is pseudo france, right, so these royals do what their real life
counterparts did. they flee. the cruel, greedy king and queen flee and leave
their young son behind with their staff. their son who is kind and soft hearted
and totally unfit to rule any kingdom (never mind that they’re literally
running away from their own people). not only that – they trade their son for
their freedom, trade their kingdom for their freedom. to the witch.
so the witch comes,
and she doesn’t disguise herself as a crone, goes to him looking as lovely and
young as her magic keeps her. but our prince adam has a talent, one many
cast-aside, neglected children have developed – the ability to see people for
who they really are, and he knows this is no kind young woman in need of his help. he refuses to let her in – and there’s
this little twist to the magic, that she can only enter the palace grounds and claim
her prize if she’s welcomed in a as a guest, and he, the young master of this
castle, won’t let her in.