So FYI, this is the scene that stopped me from shipping G*fou.
You can just see the anger in Gaston’s eyes, and the fear and betrayal in Lefou’s eyes. This implied that Gaston had a way of turning the village against Lefou. (And I think we all know what.)
If Gaston truly cared about or even loved Lefou, he never would’ve said this. He does not reciprocate his feelings, and this scene in particular gives me the feeling that he most likely never will. He just cares about himself, and doesn’t let himself be stopped by anything to get what he wants.
I know, there are different stories going on between them. “They were at war together, blablabla childhood friends, ‘my dearest friend’, 'Lefou, you’re the best’.” But that doesn’t change the fact that he literally threatened Lefou, let him get knocked around by a hat stand and left him basically for dead to get Belle.
I’m sorry. I am not joining this barge as long as Gaston is a huge dick, and Lefou deserves waaaaaaay better than him.
Watching a movie, with hopefully good casting, well-made songs and a good remake of the original animation movie.
Watching an absolutely masterpiece with A+++ casting, main and supporting cast. Watching a movie of pure perfection and probably one of the best movies I've ever seen. Joining at least three new fandoms and meeting amazing people.
A/N: This was a request I received from a anon:
I am so in love with Gaston right now. Can’t ever get enough. But if you’re feeling up to it, how about a gaston fic where reader works at the library and gaston admires her so much, that he asks her if he could read with her, even though he hates reading but finds that he actually enjoys it, especially her voice when she reads to him?
A/N: Well of course I can! I really enjoyed writing this piece! Requests are still open to submit Gaston story fic ideas!
Everyday now during Gaston’s gallivants through the village, he always seems to find himself at the library. A place he used to avoid at all costs. He didn’t enjoy reading, or barely had the time. But one day, to escape all of the people who crowded him. In order to find a place of sanctuary, more like a good place to hide in a hopes of them dispersing.
Summary: Gaston made all the wrong choices in life, and when a dramatic fall from the Beast’s castle leaves him wounded and near-death, he thinks it’s the end of his time. Suddenly, an old beggar woman appears at his side and heals him back to his normal self but gives him one year, and only one year, to find true love before his time on earth and the town’s memories of him come to an end.
As the evening melted away to the morning of Belle and Adam’s wedding, Villeneuve awakened with zeal as the sun warmed the narrow maze of winding cobblestone streets. For the first time in years, the villagers became enlivened with the day’s eagerness before the sun was fully present in the sky, and soon enough, the little town of Villeneuve was chaotic and cluttered with last-minute wedding preparations. The uneven, decomposing garden fences were crowned with garlands of golden and royal blue flowers while hanging baskets of roses greeted every front porch. Though peculiar to see such vibrant colors in February, the weather had been strangely pleasant and most people linked the sudden temperature increase to the magic that surrounded the castle.
“Of course it feels like spring,” a woman huffed to her three daughters, dressed identically in bloated gowns of pink. “The castle is enchanted, I bet the Prince ensured this weather would be perfectly suited for the wedding.”
“Was, mother. The castle was enchanted,” one of her daughters responded, to which the woman replied, “Are you sure about that?”
Every doorstep held a decoration, a flower of some sort, in honor of the wedding, and as the villagers filed into the streets for their journey to the castle, most of them noticed that Gaston’s Tavern remained bare and withdrawn. The townspeople, dressed glamorously in their pastel wardrobes, shook their heads with disgust as they mounted their horses and passed the tavern, muttering vindictive comments to the closed door:
“Better not show his face ‘round there.”
“The nerve of that man; He can’t even extend his congratulations.”
“I hope Prince Adam gives that monster a piece of his mind.”
The inside of the tavern, however, was particularly unpleasant as Gaston impatiently waited in the upstairs hallway while LeFou, finger tapping rhythmically against his lips, critiqued Gaston’s appearance. He didn’t look quite…appropriate. It wasn’t necessarily the hunter’s outfit choice, his beige war coat with scarlet lining certainly suited him, but his raven hair hung pathetically into his eyes, shielding the life within them and giving his complexion a pallid and exhausted appearance.
“This is ridiculous,” Gaston grunted, filled with absolute displeasure. “I’m not going beyond the gates, LeFou, you don’t need to do that,” he added as LeFou grabbed a handful of Gaston’s mane.
“Actually, I do. It’s not for you or the wedding, it’s for Anne,” LeFou insisted as he smoothed Gaston’s hair into a striking ponytail. Gaston’s eye roll was easily detectable. “Much better,” LeFou then added as he faced his friend.
“I no longer feel comfortable with this,” he wrinkled his nose and curled his upper lip with disapproval as he flattened several strands of hair.
“You no longer feel comfortable with anything, Gaston. Look, just try to impress Anne. Don’t be so downhearted today. I don’t know, maybe her presence will distract you from the wedding.”
As he fell to silence, Gaston questioned the day’s agenda, more specifically, the townspeople’s agenda. They were expecting him, word already traveled that the new girl would be in attendance, and he couldn’t help but feel some type of sorrow that he wouldn’t be with her. He wanted to stand by her side, the occasion was special and new to her, and yet he refused. If any villager witnessed Gaston on the castle grounds, an uproar would undoubtedly ensue. He was aware most people wanted him banished, but others wanted him dead. It was best to stay away.
“Hello? Gaston?” LeFou, obviously repeating himself, snapped a finger in his friend’s direction.
“Don’t do that.”
“Sorry. I was asking if you bought Anne flowers?”
“What? No…” Gaston was confused. Since when was it required to buy her flowers for a terrible wedding?
“What, LeFou? What could possibly be so shocking?”
“It’s a wedding. You should have been a bit more prepared,” he muttered, but Gaston overheard him and reacted with an intimidating step forward.
“Then I’ll just borrow some flowers from the villagers’ gardens. They won’t care, now will they?”
“Now, Gaston, I thought we were going to start doing some good deeds. Does stealing from other people sound like a good deed?” The two friends had been speaking more frequently since Anne had arrived and bickering back and forth had now become a daily routine.
“It is a good deed when those imbeciles insult me and my tavern every day!” His voice was raising, blood rushing to his reddened face, as his knuckles turned white with pressure from his clenched fists.
“Deep breaths, Gaston,” LeFou replied in a sing-song tone. He places his hands on the war hero’s broad shoulders as their deep breaths mimicked one another’s. “Very good,” LeFou then added. “Shall we proceed?”
“Yes,” Gaston grumbled, staring at the worn wooden floorboards. Forcing himself to change the subject, he straightened his posture, displaying the polished gold buttons on his jacket.
“How do I look, LeFou?” He then added smugly, already cognizant of his magnetism.
It was a bit painful, really, for LeFou to see Gaston dressed so precisely and immaculately. Before June, the war hero’s physical impression was a priority - he had to look the best, act the best, be the best - but the days and months following the fall led to the abandonment of those aspects. On this particular day, the war hero didn’t look so defeated, he looked like Gaston. But, as LeFou’s eyes traveled from his friend’s raven curls to his enormous boots, the young sidekick’s heart sank. Gaston wasn’t the same man. He never would be. Although it may have been best for everyone, LeFou still couldn’t stand to witness Gaston riddled with uncertainty and self-loathing. The more time LeFou spent with Gaston, the more he believed his friend was hiding something.