Ah, if it isn’t the only bookworm in town!
So, where did you run off to this week? Two cities in Northern Italy, I didn’t want to come back. Have you got any new places to go? I’m afraid not…
But you may re-read any of the old ones that you’d like.
Let’s start this recap by saying we only found out they were coming to Italy like two days before the concert itself. As Johann Frank too said on his twitter, this has been their most last minute show ever. It was amazing though, they’re all so talented and down to earth.
I had such a good time and
Nathan is so funny. When they took over the stage, East of Eli’s music managed to enthrall me completely. Obviously, seeing Chyler in person up so close (I was in the second row) was heart-stopping. I don’t know how it’s possible but that woman is even prettier in real life, damn! Nathan and Chyler made us laugh various times during the concert, so dorky and cute. I have a couple of videos I can share if anyone wants me to, either of them trying to speak Italian or of the live performances (Chyler’s voice ♥♥)
Ashton: Hearing footsteps softly coming towards the kitchen, you sigh. You hadn’t meant to wake him up, really. A very sleepy looking Ashton leans against the kitchen doorframe, frowning when he sees you. “Can’t sleep again?” He asks, yawning a little. “Go back to bed, I’ll be okay.” He shakes his head. “Baby, you need to see a doctor or something. This is like, the fourth night you’ve had trouble sleeping.” He pauses, then his eyes widen. “Is it… is it me?” He asks. “What? No, Ash, it’s not you. I just can’t fall asleep.” You assure him, walking over. He pulls you into a light hug, resting his forehead against your own. “Then what? Tell me, so I can help.” You sigh. “There’s honestly nothing wrong.” You say. Ashton walks over and starts to make coffee. “What are you doing?” You ask. “If you can’t sleep, I’ll stay awake with you until you can.” You smile a little. “Ashton, go back to bed. You’re tired.” Ashton frowns again. “Yeah, but I can’t sleep if you’re not there. The bed gets cold.” He says. You walk over and wrap your arms around him. “How about we just go cuddle?” He thinks about this for a moment, then shakes his head. “How about we go watch movies and cuddle until you fall asleep?” You sigh, feeling blessed to have such a man in your life. “I’m sorry, I know this is getting annoying.” Ashton takes his face in your hands. “Baby, no! It’s not annoying. It’s just more time I get to spend with you.” He murmurs, kissing your nose. “Yeah, but less time you get to sleep.” Ashton shrugs, pulling you into the living room while asking, “who needs sleep, anyway?”
Calum: You roll over for what seems like the millionth time. Calum sighs, sitting up. “Babe, what’s wrong?” He asks. You sit up and turn on the bedside lamp. “I don’t know. I just can’t sleep.” He frowns, moving some hair away from your face. “Want me to sing to you?” He asks. You nod, curling into his side as he sings a soft tune. “Anything?” He asks when the song is over. You groan and shake your head. “You should go back to sleep. You need it.” You tell him, biting your lip. “I’m not going to sleep when my girl isn’t.” He says stubbornly, but a yawn slips out. You smirk and he chuckles. “Okay, I’m tired. So what?” You roll your eyes. “So, I’m not going to be like Michael and force you to stay awake. Sleep, babe.” You say, reaching over to turn out the light. “Is there anything that’s bothering you? Maybe you just need to talk about it.” Calum says, pulling you into a spooning position. “No, not that I can think of. You’re home, the boys are home. Everything is perfect.” Calum runs his fingertips over your stomach lightly, making you shiver. “What about the hate? Have you been reading it lately?” You shake your head. “Not since the last time you told me not to.” Calum frowns, not being able to figure out what’s wrong with the love of his life. Then it hits him. “Babe?” He asks. “Yes, Cal?” You reply. “When is the last time we… you know?” He asks, chuckling. You roll over onto your back. “It’s been awhile, I guess. Why?” You ask, watching as he gets up and walks to the end of the bed. He grabs your ankles and pulls you until your cute plaid pajama shorts meet his eyes up close. “Calum, what are you doing? The boys are downstairs sleeping. They could hear us.” You protest, but he yanks off your shorts and underwear. “I don’t give a fuck who hears. I’m taking the edge off so my baby girl can sleep. I’m going to fuck you so good until you’re too tired to fuck anymore.”
Luke: Staying in multiple hotel rooms had its benefits, but it also had its problems. Problem number one being that eventually, they all just began to feel like home. So when you and Luke actually did come home from tour, sleeping in your own bed was very difficult for you. Even with Luke by your side every night, the bed just didn’t feel like home anymore. And this night was no different. You get out of bed and walk to the bathroom, hoping you won’t wake Luke up. You splash water on your face, and when you look up, Luke is standing behind you. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” You mumble, turning to face him. “You know, splashing water on your face is just going to make falling asleep harder.” Luke tells you. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This bed used to be my everything, second to you. And now I can’t even sleep on it.” You complain, crossing the short distance between the two of you and hugging him. “Princess, nothing’s wrong with you. You’ve just been staying in so many hotels that you forgot what your own bed feels like. C'mon, I’ll help you.” Luke pulls you back into bed and pulls you into his side, holding you close. “You know what I really want right now?” You ask. “What’s that, princess?” You look up at him. “That bed on that hotel room we stayed at in Italy. The one that had the purple pillows? Oh, I loved that bed.” You say softly. “That bed had some pretty nice things happen on it.” Luke mutters, smirking as he remembers the night involving whipped cream and strawberries. You giggle. He rubs your back lightly until you fall asleep, but that doesn’t happen for another few hours. The next day, when you come back from visiting friends, the bed from the hotel room in Italy is in your bedroom.
Michael: While Michael has been known to have some insomnia, you did not. You could sleep all day, every day. Or at least, you used to be able to sleep all day, every day. For some reason, that all changed one night. You just couldn’t fall asleep. You tried sleeping in bed and on the living room couch, but nothing helped. And unfortunately, Michael had cured his insomnia when the band went on a break. Well, that’s not unfortunate. That’s a great thing. But for you, it was unfortunate because that meant while he was asleep, you were wide awake. The roles had been reversed. You look over at your sleeping boyfriend, hearing his light snores fill the silence of your bedroom. You bite your lip and tap his cheek lightly. “Mike, wake up.” After repeating this a few times, the bleached blonde’s eyes flutter open. “What? What’s the matter, kitten?” He asks urgently. “Nothing. I just… I can’t fall asleep.” He props himself up with his hand. “Wanna talk about anything that bothered you today?” He asks. “See, that’s the thing. It isn’t just tonight. I haven’t been sleeping for weeks.” You confess. “Kitten, why didn’t you tell me?” He reaches over and strokes your cheek gently. “You were sleeping great. I didn’t want to ruin that.” Michael frowns. “You wouldn’t have ruined it. But you should have told me, I could’ve helped sooner.” He says. You nod. He sings to you softly for a few hours until your asleep. The next morning, Michael goes to the store and buys everything that’s related to helping a person sleep better just for you.
Follow-up on the live-action Beauty and the Beast thing.
Out of curiosity, I’ve been listening to the soundtrack for the movie on YouTube.
Oh, my God, you guys.
It’s so bad.
The actual production of the music is all well and good, but the writing…
They’re using most of the lyrics and most of the script from the
original movie, but every so often, they pepper in all these little
changes in the words, just because they can, and it, like, actively
damages the point.
This is going to be really nitpicky, but fuck it. I will pick some nits.
Here’s an example, a small conversation that happens within the song “Belle.”
DUDE: Good morning, Belle!
BELLE: Good morning, monsieur.
DUDE: Where you off to?
BELLE: The bookshop. I just finished the most wonderful story about a beanstalk and an ogre and–
DUDE: Uh, that’s nice. [to his wife, off-screen:] Marie! The baguettes! Hurry up!
DUDE: Good morning, Belle!
BELLE: Good morning, Monsieur Jean. Have you lost something again?
DUDE: Well, I believe I have. Problem is, I can’t remember what. Oh, well. I’m sure it’ll come to me. Where are you off to?
BELLE: To return this book to Pere Robert. It’s about two lovers in fair Verona.
DUDE: …Sounds boring.
This is… Ugh, there are just so many kind of insignificant but also really, really fucking obnoxious changes happening here.
Like, in the original version, Belle actually has an opinion about the book she read. She’s invested, and she jumps at the chance to talk about it.
the live-action version, there’s literally no passion. Just, factually:
“It’s about two lovers in fair Verona.” Well, thank you, SparkNotes.
Meanwhile, in the original version, Belle’s getting so worked up, but the guy just cuts her off right there because he doesn’t really care. He was just being polite. He doesn’t actually have time for her,
and he truly doesn’t care to make any. He’s busy minding his bakery, all
caught up in his “provincial life.”
You know, the thing Belle wants to avoid? The kind of thoughtless, shallow, workaday life she dreads the thought of having?
Because she wants adventure and whimsy and bigger, more dramatic things than just going to work or keeping house every day?
The…theme this song exists to express?
that concept is the entire reason this song and this exchange exist in
the movie, but, somehow, the remake doesn’t seem to get that.
of just being an average guy hard at work, an example of the “ordinary”
person Belle doesn’t want to be, the kind of person who doesn’t have
time for books or fantasy or fun conversations, he’s…some kooky
whimsical dude aimlessly wandering through town for reasons he can’t
That’s, like… Kind of the opposite.
being caught up in the needs of his work, he just…randomly thinks
Romeo and Juliet sounds boring. Why? What’s the point?
So, then we actually get to the bookshop.
BOOK GUY: Ah, Belle!
BELLE: Good morning! I’ve come to return the book I borrowed.
BOOK GUY: Finished already?
BELLE: Oh, I couldn’t put it down! Have you got anything new?
BOOK GUY: [laughs] Not since yesterday!
BELLE: That’s alright! I’ll borrow…this one.
BOOK GUY: That one? But you’ve read it twice!
BELLE: Well, it’s my favorite! Far-off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, a prince in disguise…
BOOK GUY: [laughs] If you like it all that much, it’s yours!
BOOK GUY: Ah, if it isn’t the only bookworm in town! So, where did you run off to this week?
BELLE: Two cities in northern Italy. I didn’t want to come back. Have you got any new places to go?
BOOK GUY: I’m afraid not. But you may reread any of the other ones that you’d like.
BELLE: Your library makes our small corner of the world feel big.
BOOK GUY: Bon voyage.
Number one, intensely tortured metaphor.
Number two, you know, in the original, the book guy didn’t have anything “new” because the last time she came in was yesterday. It illustrates how borderline obsessed she is, how much she depends on this place and the books.
But the remake doesn’t mention that. In the remake, he just randomly doesn’t happen to have anything new. Just…in general.
Number three, I love how the cartoon made for tiny little children operates with more subtlety than the teen-y live-action remake. In the original, she talks about what she likes from that specific book, and the viewer naturally picks up the impression of why these books are so important to her. In the remake, Emma Watson’s just fucking narrating the subtext to the audience.
And then we get to Gaston’s introduction.
GASTON: She’s the one! The lucky girl I’m going to marry! The most beautiful girl in town! That makes her the best! And don’t I deserve the best?
GASTON: Belle is the most beautiful girl in the village! That makes her the best.
LE FOU: But she’s so…well read. And you’re so…athletically inclined.
GASTON: Yes. But ever since the war, I’ve felt like I’ve been missing something.
Why is this here?
The original is so clear-cut. He thinks of women like objects and feels like he’s naturally entitled, by virtue of his ~stunning manliness~, to the prettiest one.
In the remake… He’s a veteran?
He’s a veteran. Of a war. Readjusting to life at home. Pursuing Belle. Because he thinks she’ll make him feel complete again.
What the fuck am I listening to?
I mean, you know they’re not even going to commit to this. You know this is not going to be, like, an actual new take on the character. This is not going to be a totally reimagined Gaston. This line is just here. Because…why?
Because someone sitting in a boardroom somewhere said, “Gaston needs a more sympathetic motivation. Sympathetic motivations sell toys”?
Because they’re hoping for a gritty Gaston war prequel somewhere down the line?
Because the writers are just really, really, really bad at their jobs?
the one with no title, but with five lava lamps (or how Root found herself with a collection of lava lamps)
A/N: First, I know I’m going to fuck up this post so I’m sorry in advance. I know html, but I don’t know tumblr. Second, a huge thank you to @kate-the-rabbit for her help and for the prompt. The prompt was “
Shaw coming home to the subway and finding Root has a collection of lava lamps
“ and that’s…not what I wrote. Because of personal issues, I gave up writing. Now I’m trying to start writing again so if you like what you read, leave a prompt.
Shaw comes back and Root only has one lava lamp.
That number will change in the following months.
Shaw wakes up to sheets that a) aren’t white and b) don’t
smell that fresh, and for a moment she thinks she’s inside a simulation. Her
heart rate goes up and for a moment (just one moment) she panics.
And then she sees Root stretching to the light of a lava
lamp in the middle of the room, headphones on, hair up in a messy ponytail, as
she tries (and succeed) to touch her knees with her head. She holds that
position long enough for Shaw’s body to start to ache.
“Hey,” Shaw says and when Root doesn’t hear her, she clearsher throat and tries again, but this time waving her hand.
“Hey, hey, Root.”
Shaw doesn’t know if she got her attention or if the Machine
told Root that she’s awake, but Root takes her headphones off and smiles, but
doesn’t stretch up. “You know, while you were away, I had to go undercover as a
prima ballerina and I must say, I was really good.”
6, 741 simulations and not once had Samaritan gotten Root
Imagine Spending the Night in Bucky’s barracks and getting caught.
You awoke with a start. Sweat dripping down your face as memories of the mission filled your mind. The nightmares never go away. Looking at the clock, you saw it was 1:30 a.m. sighing, you ran your hand through your hair, deciding on whether or not to seek comfort from Peggy or Bucky. Peggy was your roommate while you guys were stationed in Italy for a while. Your boyfriend, just coming back from the Hydra base was probably sleeping on the other side of the barracks. Getting up, you grabbed your robe and tied it around your waist. Slipping on slippers, you snuck out of your room, avoiding waking Peggy up. Walking down the halls, you finally made it to where Bucky was staying, in a room by himself. Opening the door, you silently walked in and shut the door behind you. In front of you, Bucky was peacefully sleeping and guilt ate you on the insides. Taking off your robe and sillpers, you tiptoed over and crawled in his small bed. He shifted, making you aware that he knew you were there.
“(Y/N)? Doll? What’s wrong?” His husky voice asked, pulling you into his warm body, wrapping his arms around you.
“Nightmare.” You murmured into his chest as he petted your head.
“Wanna talk about it?” Shaking your head, he nodded and wrapped the blanket around your small body.
- next morning -
After the nightmare, you slept well in his arms. Stirring at the bright light you giggled softly at Bucky’s quiet snores. However, a throat clearing alarmed you and you pointed the gun that Bucky keeps by his bed to the intruder, only to see Steve.
“Oh, Steve. It’s you.” You stated, putting the gun down as the brunette stirred next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and snuggling into your back.
“Who is it Sweety?” He asked, opening his eyes when you didn’t respond.
“Oh shit! Steve!” He yelped in surprise at the blond who had an amused expression.
“Wanna explain?” He asked as you and Bucky shook your head no.
“Then get up and ready.” He stated as you and Bucky got out of bed and saluted the smirking Captain. After Steve left, you looked at Bucky who only laughed.
a/n: Please see this post to vote on what my next series should be.
Despite the curse placed on the castle, life in the village continued on with the villagers having no memory of the prince or his parties. In fact, the village moved along just fine with the prince’s absence, his tax and cruelty forgotten by all who lived there, and every day in the village was like the one before for all but one resident.
[Y/N] [L/N] and her father had moved to the village when [Y/N] was only a baby, her mother having passed in Paris soon after her birth, where her father continued to work as a painter and where [Y/N] was taught to read and write, pursuing inventing as a hobby, much to the dismay and hate of the other people in the village.
You see the village people did not like change, it scared them, and a woman known how to read and write was certainly knew as all the other women and girls in the village were simply housewives that cared for the children while their husband worked, or who helped teach other young women to be the perfect bride for their future husband. But [Y/N] was not like the others, she never had been.
The morning sun greeted [Y/N] has she took her [F/C] ribbon and tied her [H/L], [H/C] hair up in a ponytail as she watched the village begin to awaken with sounds of roosters crowing from her own front and from the distance within the village boundaries. Her father lay asleep on his bed, having been up late during the night painting and working on a music box [Y/N] had since she was a baby, fixing it up so that it was functioning once again.
Smiling at her father’s sleeping figure, [Y/N] lifted a small pouch filled with coins of the kitchen table, as well as another empty pouch that was larger in size, that she tied around her waist, they had as she was going to get their supplies for the day and for her father before he journeyed to the city to sell more of his art. Leaving the small house that she called a home, [Y/N] let out a sigh, one that was slightly reluctant due to the way the people of the village treated her because she was different than them and she didn’t know if she wanted to face them.
Walking down the small pathway that guarded her vegetable garden, [Y/N] stepped through her gate and into the rest of the village. It was quiet as she stepped through the archway into the main part of the village, where the markets and shops were, but the chimes of the bell tower awoke the town as windows and doors opened, revealing the village people as they began their day.
[Y/N]s first stop was the bakery and as the baker emerged from his home, she took some coins from her pouch and placed them on his tray as she lifted a fresh baguette, the heat still radiating from it as she placed it in her empty pouch, “Bonjour.” Her voice was soft and sweet as she spoke, offering the Baker a smile as she walked away.
A larger smile grew onto her face as she walked towards the carriage horse, lifting her hand to scratch between his eyes and down his nose while her other hand moved slowly down his neck, petting him.
“Ah, good morning [Y/N]!” Turning away from the horse, [Y/N] greeted the voice with a smile as she spoke, “Good morning Monsieur Bruce.” Walking towards the tall man, who’s shoulders and buff physique made him look intimidating, “Have you lost something again?” [Y/N]’s [E/C] eyes reflected concern as she got closer to the Bruce, who offered her a confused look as he continued to search around him, “I’m afraid I have. The only problem is, I can’t remember what!”
It was the same every day, Monsieur Bruce was always looking for something but could never remember what and [Y/N] genuinely worried that he was going crazy as he could never seem to find what he was missing. “Oh well, I’m sure it will come to me.” [Y/N] walked forward, pulling an apple from a bucket that was near Bruce and offering it to his mule, who gratefully took the treat as [Y/N] gave him a light scratch. “Where are you off to?”
Turning towards Bruce and walking backwards, [Y/N] offered an answer that she was sure to get judged about, “To a return, a book I borrowed from pére Sebastian, it’s about two lovers in fair Verona.” She continued to walk backwards, only turning when Bruce gave his reply, “Sounds boring.”
Rolling her eyes slightly, [Y/N] let a tiny and almost silent chuckle past her lips because she knew the people of the village would never understand. Walking through the village, [Y/N] could feel the wandering eyes of the villagers as they stared after her and she could hear their voices as they talked in hushed whispers about her, but of course she took it all in her stride and ignored it but she could pick up on some of their words. Especially as she passed the women of the village doing their washing up and she could pick up words and phrase like ‘funny girl’ and ‘head in the clouds’, the woman of the village were not quiet in their disapproval of [Y/N] and it was not like them to speak in quiet tones or hushed voices.
Walking through the village, an amused smile grew on [Y/N]’s face as she watched the usual exchanges in the village, the man who sold the eggs trying to flirt with the fishmongers wife and someone commenting on how his eggs were too expensive and in her mind her thoughts were of one simple thing, there must be more than this provincial life.
Looking away from the rest of the village, as she had now reached the church building that lay at the edge of the village, she pushed open the wooden door with a smile as pére Sebastian greeted her. “Ah, if it isn’t the only bookworm in town.” He had been up a latter, dusting at the windows and so as he looked to [Y/N] he began to climb down them so he could talk to her. “So, where did you run off to this week?”
Clutching the book to her chest, [Y/N] gave a reply to pére Sebastian. “Two cities in Northern Italy, I didn’t want to come back.” Sebastian now stood in front of the girl, his duster in front of him as he leant on it for some extra support, a smile on his face as he listened to her talk and watched her move with ease in his domain. “Have you got any new places to go?”
Moving to look at the small collection of books, [Y/N] placed Romeo and Juliet back and turned to Sebastian as he gave his answer, “I’m afraid not. But you can reread any of the old ones if you like.” Scanning the titles, [Y/N] reached for a favourite of hers ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’ and stood back up, once again clutching a book to her chest. “Thank you, your library makes out small corner of the world seem big.” As she walked through the door and back into the village, she heard the voice of pére Sebastian call out to her, “Bon Voyage.”
Opening the book as she stepped into the street, she started to read, ignoring the stares and whispers of ‘peculiar’ and ‘strange’ and of course the questions of ‘is she well’. [Y/N] pressed the open book against her chest as she reached the flower and jam stall ran by Ivy and Harley, two women who lived together after the passing of their husbands. Once again she reached into her coin pouch and lifted a jar of jam, handing the coins over to Harley with a smile before placing the jam in the pouch with her bread.
As she walked through the area where Ivy kept her flower, she kept her eyes on the book and skillfully avoided the various people looking over Ivy’s gorgeous bouquets, closing the book when she left the area in order to navigate the more difficult portion of the village where many people were walking. Of course, the three girls her age that were vying for husbands looked on and stared after her as she was said to be the more beautiful girl in the village and they were jealous of the fact that many believed that, including the man they all wanted as a husband, and so they whispered of how different she was to them.
As Belle wandered through the village, Lex Luthor looked on from the distance through a telescope and watched her as he spoke to his loyal and faithful companion, Oswald Cobblebot. “Look at her Oswald, my future wife.” Taking the telescope down from his eyes and handing it to his companion, he spoke in order to emphasise his point, “[Y/N] is the most beautiful girl in the village, that makes her the best.”
Oswald handed the telescope back to Lex with a questioning glance and his hand extended outward, moving over Lex’s body as he spoke, “But she’s so well-read and you’re so athletically inclined.”
Looking out toward the village, Gaston through over [Y/N] and why he wanted her as a bride before he voiced his thoughts. “I know. [Y/N] can be as argumentative as she is beautiful.” Before he could continue, Oswald managed to get a word in, “Exactly. Who needs her when you’ve got us?” He wasn’t going to admit it to anyone, but Oswald knew he would be lonely if Lex was to ever get married and left him alone, after all, Lex was the only friend he had.
Lex slouched in his saddle slightly before continuing, “But since the war, I’ve felt like I’ve been missing something. She’s the only girl that gives me that sense of…” trailing off, Lex raised his hand towards his face and rubbed his fingers together in an attempt to find the right word before Oswald offered a suggestion, “Je ne suis qu'à?” Bringing his hand back down to the reign and kicking his horse into motion, Lex admitted, “I don’t know what that means.” As they descended onto the village, Lex described the moment he fell for [Y/N] to Oswald.
“Right from the moment that I meet her, saw her, I said ‘she’s gorgeous’ and I fell. In town, there is only she, as beautiful as me, so I’m making plans to woo and marry [Y/N]”. But of course, [Y/N] had no intention to marry anyone and she certainly had no intention of marrying Lex.
As she went about the village, [Y/N] made her way back to the back of Ivy and Harley’s stall, where she was spotted by Gaston who had dismounted his horse and started his search for her, and smiled thankfully as she was offered various goods from the people around her in a kind decline of their goods. As she got to the fountain, she leant her arms against and it gazed into the water for a moment, not noticing Lex standing only a few meters away from her with a bouquet of flowers for her.
Standing up from the fountain, [Y/N] stepped back and started making her way through the village square once again and once again, she ignored the stares of the people around her only to be called to attention by the voice of a man she would say she hated, if she had not been taught that hate is a word that should only be reserved for the most evil of people in the world.
“Good morning [Y/N]!” As he jogged up to her side, [Y/N] turned to look at Lex with a raised eyebrow. “Wonderful book you have there.” [Y/N] doubted he had read it, in fact, she doubted he had read anything! And her doubts were confirmed as she looked to her book and then back to Lex, “Have you read it?” Lex’s answer almost made her roll her eyes, but she simply stared at him with mundane disbelief.
“Well, not that one. But, you know, books…” As he trailed off, [Y/N] forced back a sign and jumped back slightly as Lex offered up the bouquet he had in his hands, “For your dinner table.” Pushing his luck, Lex asked a question [Y/N] thought he would know the answer too after trying to win her affections for so long, “Shall I join you this evening?”
Struggling to find words, [Y/N] almost let out a sound of exacerbation but she held back and decided to answer him, “Sorry, not this evening.”
“Busy?” As he asked his question, Lex rose an eyebrow hoping for the answer to be yes but known that it would be
“No…” Lex looked at her in disbelief as she turned away from him and even walked away from him before he was joined once again by Oswald asking, “So, moving on?” But of course, he wasn’t.
“No Oswald. It is the ones who play hard to get who are always the sweetest prey. That’s what makes [Y/N] so appealing, she hasn’t made a fool of herself just to gain my favour. What would you call that?”
Oswald watched as [Y/N] walked away from the two of them, his eyes half amused with Lex’s pursuit of the, clearly, disinterested girl and replied to his friends question quite honestly. “Dignity?”
Turning towards his friend, a large grin was on Lex’s face as he spoke. “It’s outrageously attractive, isn’t it?” At the sound of his name being called by three women, he left his friend and joined them.
As she arrived back at her home, [Y/N] turned to see if Lex had followed her and at the appearance that he hadn’t she let out a relieved sigh before continuing to her door. It was here that the familiar sound of a music box filled her ears and brought a feeling of warmth to her, causing a smile to break out on her previously worried face.
As she entered her small home, the sight of her father working on a music box styled sculpture of her parents and her as a baby greeted her, as did the sound of her father singing the lullaby that accompanied the music box.
How does a moment last forever
How can a story never die
It is love we must hold on to
Never easy but we try
Sometimes out happiness is captured
Somehow a time and place stand still
Love lives on inside out hearts
And always will
The sound of her father singing made [Y/N] happy as she made him some jam and bread from what she had just bought, with the sound of stopping as she approached him with it, startling the man as he finally noticed her presence for he wasn’t really one to sing with her around.
“Oh, [Y/N].” Setting the plate of food down beside her father, she lifted a small work tool as her father lifted out the clockwork of the music box and asked her, “Could you hand me a…” Upon noticing she already had it, the two exchanged smiles as he let out an ‘ohh’ sound. While he was working with that tool, [Y/N] lifted another and extended her hand out toward him just as he turned to her once again, “I also need…” He looked over the tool before claiming, “No. No.No.” As [Y/N] raised an eyebrow and gave him a questioning glance, he looked back to the clockwork before deciding, “Yes, that’s exactly what I need. Thank you.”
Sharing a smile with his daughter, he turned back to his work only to be pulled out be a question from [Y/N]. “Papa, do you think I’m odd?” [Y/N] lifted a trinket of the table and moved around the room a little, setting it down on a stool as she listened to her father talk, “Odd? My daughter odd? Wherever would you get an idea like that?”
With a gentle sigh, [Y/N] looked over the trinket she had set down before she continued, “Oh I don’t know. People talk.” Her father watched her, his eyes kind and filled with love, “This is a small village, you know. Small minded as well.”
Looking up to her father momentarily she listened to him, “But small also means safe.” She could understand what he meant, they had previously lived in the large and beautiful city of Paris but the death of her mother meant they had to leave and so, to a small and safe village they moved. Lifting a box from the ground, [Y/N] moved to put it where it belonged as her father continued to talk, “Even back in Paris, I knew a girl like you, who was so…” [Y/N] knew he was talking about her mother, he often commented that they were alike in many ways, “ahead of her time.So different.”
As she sat by the fire, [Y/N] continued to watch her father as he spoke of her mother,”People mocked her. Until the day they all found themselves imitating her.” With a gentle smile, [Y/N] rose from her position once again and walked towards her father, words that had been burning in her brain only coming out when she reached him, “Please, just tell me one more thing about her.”
Her father contemplated the idea, sitting back in the chair he was in and knitting his eyebrows together, “Your mother was…” He trailed off slightly and leant forward once again, looking over his music box once again, “Fearless.” This made [Y/N] smile and her eyes sparkled as her father nodded and looked at her, repeating “Fearless” once again before looking back and closing the music box.
“I have to leave now.” Nodding, [Y/N] helped her father pack up the music box of the old windmill they lived in that depicted their family so he could show it and helped him out to the carriage, where their horse Phillipe was and she gave Philippe a treat while scratching his head and giving him a kiss between his two eyes. Walking back to her father, who was climbing onto the carriage, she had a melancholy smile on her face as she knew he had to leave but he was sad that he had to leave.
[Y/N] handed her father the reigns that would allow him to control the carriage and Philippe her smile turning genuine. Placing her hands on his knee, she looked to her father as he spoke, “So, what can I bring you from the market?” She knew what she wanted, it was what she always wanted when he went to market.
“A rose. Like the one in the painting.” Her father chuckled and shook his head slightly, “You ask for that every year!” His voice was slightly disbelieving but he knew that she loved her roses.
“And every year you bring it.” She was always so happy getting the rose and her father certainly loved seeing the light in her eyes brighten when he gave it to her. “Then I shall bring you another.” Removing her hand from her knee as her father reached out and lightly gripped her chin, “You have my word.”
[Y/N] smiled at her father and stepped back away from the carriage, “Goodbye, Papa.” Moving towards the path that lead to her home, [Y/N]’s father lifted the reins, “Goodby, [Y/N].” Watching from her door as her father lead Philippe away she shouted out to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I’ve just noticed the parallels. Belle says “two cities in Northern Italy. I didn’t want to come back.” She basically escapes into different places through books, and this happens quite literally later in the film, when she uses the book to escape to Paris. And then she says “can we go back.” And I just love how much they used books as a form of escapism and as a metaphor for otherworldly realms.