What I loved about Beauty and the Beast (live action)
I’ve now seen this movie twice, and feel like I can adequately list everything I loved about it.
(I tried to keep things in order, but it’s all from memory. So if things aren’t in the right order or quotes aren’t perfect, I apologize.)
- The prince’s eye makeup
- Not having the prince be an 11 year old when he’s cursed
- Shadow usage
- Belle’s preciously sweet singing voice
- Mr. Potts can’t remember what he lost
- Père Robert
- “athletically inclined”
- Gaston not knowing what ‘je ne sais quois’ means when he lives in France
- Gaston’s horse kicking mud at the sisters
- Gaston talking to a mirror
- Gaston stealing flowers
- Just Gaston in general
- “Busy?” “No.”
- Kevin Kline
- Belle knowing exactly what her father needs
- “Dignity?” “It’s outrageously attractive, isn’t it?”
- Belle’s washing machine
- Maurice and his conversations with his horse
- Cogsworth and Lumiere arguing over who Maurice complimented
- Maurice seeing Chip and then calmly running the fuck away (relatable)
- LeFou paying people off so they’ll sing for Gaston
- The note Gaston hits when he sings ‘barge’
- Gaston lifting two people onto his shoulders
- Stomping on tables
- “I’ve been told I’m clingy, but I don’t get it.”
- “Forever can spare a minute.”
- Belle smashing Lumiere with a stool and him complimenting her strength
- The 'only wing’
- Belle immediately planning to escape
- Beast’s facial expressions
- Belle saying hello to a hairbrush
- Belle crawling out of the dress Garderobe put her in
- Cadenza playing through the 'dental pain’
- Lumiere trying to stay in the spotlight
- The guillotine in the background when Lumiere says 'this is France’
- Lumiere being a dramatic little shit
- Mrs. Potts and her saucy wink
- Belle escaping through a doggy door
- Beast growling at the wolves
- Explanation for why all the household was cursed
- The castle falling apart more and more every time a petal drops
- LeFou booping Gaston’s nose
- “Some of them are in Greek.”
- Belle’s excited giggling at the library
- Belle and the Beast having actual conversations that help you believe they’re falling in love
- Snowball fight
- Beast secretly reading romantic stories
- Belle and Beast relating about being lonely outsiders
- Belle’s mother’s backstory
- The gold leaf floating onto Belle’s dress
- Belle admitting she can’t be happy if she isn’t free (take that Stockholm syndrome)
- In case you missed that last one: EVER. MORE.
- Beast climbing higher and higher to keep watching Belle as she leaves
- Gaston’s believable development from vain jerk to truly evil
- “There’s a beast running wild, there’s no question. But I fear the wrong monster’s released.”
- Belle and her dad making an awesome team
- Belle ditching her impractical dress
- Chip chucking saucers at people
- Gaston abandoning LeFou because 'it’s hero time’
- “The fat lady is singing!”
- Stanley looking fabulous in his dress
- Gaston using a gun because he’s a coward
- “I am not a beast.”
- The coat stand catching Chip
- Everyone turning inanimate and breaking my fucking heart
- Close ups of Beast’s beautiful human hands and feet
- Beast’s eyes
- Garderobe and Cadenza
- Plumette coming out of the feathers like the angel she is
- Mr. Potts finding what he lost
- Belle’s celebration dress
- Belle asking Beast to grow a beard
- Beast’s growl (not appropriate for children)
- Beautiful end credits
I entered Loki’s castle, which was once my home. Yes, my dear readers, my ex-boyfriend is a God, literally and physically, I will reveal that story at some point during this saga, but for now…
It was like something out of a fairytale, I was laying on my back in the middle of his bed, the wind from the sea below rustled the curtains and filled the room with its salty essences.
He was laying on his side, his right hand supporting his head, while his left waved across my naked stomach and speckles of green and gold dust floated a few inches above my belly. I turned to look at him, his vulnerability and tenderness unchanged much like the days of the past when we laid endlessly like this. I touched his fingers and the the speckles of dust fell from the tips into my palm. I blew the dust into his face and he laughed, revealing his youthful and boyish grin.
“You and the child are healthy, today marks three months.” He says gazing at me intently before he continued. “Do you want to know if it’s a boy or girl?”
My eyes widen. “You know what I’m having?”
He nods. “Do you want to know?” I shook my head. “Come, you need to eat.” He says as he sits ups.
I started to protest, but he wasn’t have any parts of it. I stood from the bed and walked over to the mirror admiring the ankle length, flowy white gown. I couldn’t take my eyes off my belly, which seemed to have grown exponentially larger in a few hours. His chatter became indecipherable as I lifted my gown and gazed intently at my round belly from every angle.
I heard his voice in my head, silencing my chatter. “Time works differently here.”
I answered him aloud. “I know that, but I look as if I’m six months pregnant.
He kisses me on the cheek, “you’re glowing.”
“Close your eyes.” I did as he commanded. “Open.”
I opened my eyes slowly to see a golden amulet hanging from my neck. “What’s this?”
“It belonged to Frigga.” He hesitated for a bit. “My mother.”
“Lo, this is…” I opened it and gasped. “I can’t take this.”
“She wanted you to have it. Or as she said, this belongs to the woman who sees the goodness and love in your heart like I have.”
My heart was overwhelmed. “Thank you.”
Lo busied himself in the kitchen preparing one of his concoctions.
“I can ask you how you have been since the Dreamless, but I can tell that you are still troubled.” He says as he places a bowl of something that looks and smells like porridge in front of me. He saw the look on my face and then he spoke. “You know what happened the last time, so I suggest you just eat it.”
I pushed the bowl away from me. “I’m not hungry.”
“When was the last time you ate? And don’t say you had a donut because you didn’t actually eat it.”
“Spying on me?”
“Always.” He says as he dipped the spoon into the bowl and held it up to my mouth.
I took a bite and we exchanged a glance. “Why are you doing this?” I asked.
“What.” He says as he dips the spoon into the bowl and raises it to his lips.
“Hey, that’s mine.”
“Thought you said you weren’t hungry.” He winked. I stuck my tongue out at him and he laughed.
“All of this.” I say between chews, “why have you left the veil open between us all this time? The Dreamless, being there at the exact moment when I fell into the waterfall, and Frigga’s amulet.”
“To show you that I will always be here for you and that amulet is now yours.”
“Doesn’t it bother you.”
He eyes me as he takes a bite. “It does, can I just kill him?”
I laughed. “No, Lo! You do not have permission to kill the father of my child.
He scoffs. “Fine.”
“Lo, I am serious. Do not harm him. Promise me.”
“I promise, I won’t harm him. Maim, maybe, but not kill.”
“Thanks.” I replied dryly.
“It bothers me, but it doesn’t mean I will love you any less because you love someone else and is carrying his child.” My legs started to shake and he senses this. “Don’t be nervous, we might as well talk about it now and get it out of the way.”
“Okay.” I say hesitantly. He lifts the spoon to my mouth.
“Does Bucky know about me?” He lifts the spoon to his lips.
“No, no one does.”
“Having a boyfriend…an ex-boyfriend-.”
“Ex-fiancé.” He interrupts and clarifies.
“Having an ex-fiancé as a God that nearly destroyed the human race isn’t something to brag about.”
“Once we go back, there will be many questions from him and everyone else.”
“I know. And I’m prepared to answer them. I’m not ashamed of you Lo, if that’s what you think. You were my choice at one point and Natasha was his…” I trailed off.
“I know you’re not ashamed of what we once were, if you were you wouldn’t be here right now.”
I swallowed the last bite and he places the spoon in the bowl.
“Does she love him?”
“That’s a question for Natasha.”
“He sighs. “Yes, she loves him deeply, but that love only flows one way. As much as it pains me to say this and I wish it wasn’t true, he is truly and madly in love with you. The only love Bucky has for Natasha is that of friendship, nothing more.”
“What happened between them and Hydra?”
“Darling, I cannot answer that question. That is his story to tell, and it will be better if it comes from him and not from me.”
“Are you still in love with me?”
The question caught him off guard. It took several heartbeats before he answered. “You already know the answer.”
“Do you wish this was your child?”
He gets up from the table and walks outside. “Yes, I wished that was my daughter. I wished that you were as in love with me as you are with him. I made a lot of mistakes and I lost you because of them and it is my burden to not only live with, but to carry.
My eyes brimmed with tears. “It’s a girl? I’m having a girl?”
“Love, I am so sorry.” He apologizes, taking my hand in his and kissing it.
He slowly drops my hands and rubs his thumb across my cheek then my lips. I didn’t stop him as he leaned in and kissed me. My knees weakened, but his arm around my waist steadied me as I pressed into him as the kiss became deeper and hungrier. Our touch became sensitizes as visions of our past lovemaking heightened the already charged atmosphere.
So, today was a snow day and I was able to work on Fragile Design, including ironing out some tricky plot points (thanks to @optomisticgirl for her wonderful thoughts and encouragement). Now, I’m sitting here and thinking as my husband makes dinner (yes, I’m a lucky girl) and I need to write something short and sweet and involving no major plot other than references to potential impending storylines to come.
(also I’ve spent the past week re-immersing myself in @msgenevieve447‘s writing and loving every minute of it…this is an ode to her as well because she’s one of the people in this fandom than inspired me to write and I owe her much for that)
This little drabble is based on one of my all time favorite Captain Swan conversations, a piece of which is below:
Ah, yes…under the cut, for smutty reasons (you know how I do)…
This has been in the works for months and months. I simply haven’t had the inspiration nor the time to write honestly. It’s not my best writing, but I tried to get myself back into things. I’ve missed writing and you guys
Length: 7,000+ words
It wasn’t supposed to be like
this. He wasn’t supposed to be like this. Those sweet lips of his shouldn’t
have been so bitter. Those eyes weren’t supposed to be so dark.
To be fair, tonight was the one
night that everyone could be whoever they wanted to. You had just fallen for
his innocent ploy. How were you supposed to know those wings of his were real?
It was Halloween. The sky was
blackened and overcast, consuming the moon’s light. Careful of the brisk cold,
you chose a costume that allowed for you to cover up well. Your long white
dress dragged against the concrete even though you were wearing high heels.
Your friend pulled you along, rushing you as if you were terribly late. There
was still plenty of time though. You had all night.
Someone had rented a club to
throw a party. You had no idea who, but apparently they were a friend of a
friend and that meant that you had somehow received a gorgeous black invitation
with loopy orange lettering. Not one to refuse an opportunity to be someone
else for a few hours, you graciously accepted and now you were trying to
navigate through the gray fog covering the venue’s floor without stepping on
There were more people here than
you had expected and though you had entered holding your friend’s hand, she was
suddenly nowhere to be found. The sea of masks made it near impossible to
search for her. However, you weren’t too concerned. You would end up crossing
paths again at some point.
You decided to hold the hem of
your gown as you strolled to make sure you didn’t trip as the ground was
virtually undetectable under the man-made smoke. Hoisting yourself up onto a
stool by the bar, you got your bearing as you sat and observed. The club was
eerily beautiful with glass chandeliers casting a blue tinted glow on the
shimmering onyx walls and floors.
A tap on your shoulder startled
you out of your awe. Spinning in your seat, you came face to face with the
bartender. He wore a cape and fake elongated canine teeth for a vampire feel. He
wanted to know if you wanted a drink.
The corners of your lips
upturned. In fact, you did. “Could you make something that goes with my
costume?” you asked playfully.
He smiled at your request but
his white contact lenses made the expression seem sinister. “Anything for an
angel,” he replied flirtily.
You were grateful that he could
tell your intended guise as you weren’t wearing fake wings. But to be fair, you
had your back to him earlier, so maybe he has caught sight of the huge black
wings tattooed on your skin. Though your white dress had long sleeves and was
floor length, it was also totally backless. It exposed your ink well. If your
gold halo didn’t give away what you were attempting, a good look at your back
The bartender came back with
something bubbling in a wine glass with flecks of gold leaf floating the in
“What is it?” you inquired as
you handed the handsome blood sucker a bill.
“Unicorn blood,” he answered
with a wink.
You appreciated his cleverness
in the choice. Wiggling your fingers in farewell, you stood to leave.
“Come back for some Hell Fire,”
he called after you. You nodded without looking back and made no promises.
Taking a sip from your glass,
you were pleasantly surprised by the taste of passion fruit mixed with
champagne. The sweetness cut the bitterness and the carbonation lightened the
thickness of the juice. You really were going to have to return for that Hell
Fire if it was anything like this.
A firm hand gripped your elbow
and you whipped around so fast that you almost spilled your cocktail. It was
your friend, looking sexier than before in her police woman outfit now that she
was sweating a little. She had found the dance floor without you and had even
found herself a Joker to sway with. Kindly, he accepted you as an adoption to
their duo and you danced with your friend as she danced with the both of you.
Draining your Unicorn’s blood
after a few songs, you decided to leave your friend to her criminal and sought
out the bar again. There was a line this time and you secured yourself a small
section of counter to lean against as you waited. You draped your hair to one
side as you could feel the alcohol and dancing warm you from the inside. Not
wanting your makeup to melt just yet, you fanned yourself with your hands. The
gold bangles that adorned your wrists tinkled musically loud enough to catch
the bartender’s attention. He flashed his fangs at you teasingly as he mixed a
You were mid-chuckle when you
felt a chill crawl up your spine. Goose bumps erupted on your arms and you
searched for the cause. Eyes darting around, you caught sight of a tall man
dressed in all black staring at you from across the room. He stood completely
still even as you locked eyes. You couldn’t read his expression as an elegant
mask made of lace obscured half of his face. The fabric was a stunning shade of
crimson, which was at complete odds with his charcoal suit. But it did have the
benefit of drawing your interest straight to his eyes, which were piercing.
My boyfriend’s in a band, he plays guitar while I hum along. The plucks and strums reverberate through my soul long after he’s done, and while he plays I watch his shoulders move along and his slender fingers send the chords vibrating to create sound. Every time I greet him, he tells me I smell like lemon, and if I tell him it’s my lotion, he shuts me up with a kiss. I’ve always talked too much, ever since I was little and my mom’s boyfriend told me so, accompanied by a mark that stung like a backyard-dwelling bumblebee that waited to prick me until I stepped on the flowers. He always smells like mint, but I don’t tell him so. He’s intent on smelling like manly gruff musk or whatever that cologne he wears is called. But he still smells minty underneath it all. He always has. It’s a detail of his, one of many, silver hooks reflecting fish scales reflecting sun rays in a moat of light. They snag my attention and anchor me in a place I can’t escape - like when the current traps you underneath the water and the ocean salt stings your nose but you soon realize it’s useless to fight it. Like motes of dust that glisten gold as they float in a jasmine-flower shaft of light. Perhaps details aren’t enough for me, though; I wasn’t made for tidbits, for being strung along like a child following a trail of candy. But I love this boy of details, for he is a poet, and I know better than anyone that the poetic pierce the fog, they find a time and place in the corridors of way-back-when where we dream at night and leave abandoned during day. Of all the universes of minds I’ve seen hidden in nutshells of skulls, his is by far the brightest. He calms my storm of a head, but he can’t show me what it feels like to be on fire. Guitars and flowers and poems do not have the potential to set me ablaze. They are like the breeze.
The next time I fucking see blue eye’d Alec in the show tag on ao3, I swear I’m going off in the comments. If you want to use Matthew Daddario’s face for your fucking fics, respect that the man has HAZEL EYES. Matthew’s eyes are warm honey against forest greens. Specks of gold floating in an emerald sea. NOT FUCKING BLUE.