The first full lenght trailer of Peter Rabbit is released. You can hear Daisy’s giggle at 00:47.
Peter Rabbit, the mischievous and adventurous hero who has captivated generations of readers, now takes on the starring role of his own irreverent, contemporary comedy with attitude. In the film, Peter’s feud with Mr. McGregor (Domhnall Gleeson) escalates to greater heights than ever before as they rival for the affections of the warm-hearted animal lover who lives next door (Rose Byrne). James Corden voices the character of Peter with playful spirit and wild charm, with Margot Robbie, Elizabeth Debicki, and Daisy Ridley performing the voice roles of the triplets, Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail.
Imagine dean finds a case at the National Pie Championships and goes undercover as a judge
Warnings: near death experience, mentions of death, happy dean, sad dean, annoyed sam… are these warnings? AN: I used this gif more as an inspiration for Dean’s feelings, hope that’s okay. Also this is Unbeta’d, please excuse the mistakes and poorly typed structure.
“I found something!” Dean yelled, triumphantly slapping the paper down on the table between Sam and I. Sam swiped it as I gave Dean an unsure look, he was never this excited about a case. “What is it?” I asked, looking between Sam and Dean. Sam slid the paper across the table, his bitch-face game strong as he glared at Dean. “Of course you think this is a case.” Sam chided, I tilted my head towards the paper, still surveying the boys two faces. “Death at the National Pie Championships,” I looked up at Dean, he was nodding, the smile growing ever wider on his face. “Ruled suspicious as witnesses come forward. Contestant, Bill, from Kentucky, explains death as He just started choking outta nowhere, he wasn’t even tasting anything… Organiser, Kate, said he just started struggling to breathe, he was fine then he wasn’t, then he was… dead.” I finished reading. It didn’t sound like our kind of thing at all, but the eagerness on Dean’s face was hard to refuse. “It’s probably just a prank,” Sam explained it away, but looked to me to back him up. “How’s that?” Dean asked, “All those witnesses?” Dean’s smile had faded, he was properly annoyed Sam wasn’t letting him have his fun. “Clearly someone’s laced a pie…” “Come on, Sam. It’s worth checking out, not like we have anything else to do.” I smacked Sam’s shoulder with the paper, his stubborn jaw finally giving way to a hint of a smile. “I saw that, we’re going!” Dean almost clicked his heels as he jumped the steps from the library.
Summary: Y/N was once an employee at Prince Adams castle along with being his childhood friend but she doesn’t remember. Caught up in the curse, she ends up in Villeneuve where she stands out. But circumstances arrive and she somehow returns to the place she once called home, and a beast she once thought a friend. A multi-chapter fanfiction. MASTERLIST
Author’s Notes: So here’s the next chapter. It’s like 10 minutes later than Friday but I had to help out at my school’s prom so I’ve been out all day and I can’t feel my feet. Nevertheless, I hope you guys enjoy this next chapter and as usual, tags, requests and questions are OPEN! Enjoy guys :)
Chapter 11: The Sun Starts To Shine You were still dumbfounded that you had managed to get the Beast back to the castle. You had figured out a way to make a makeshift sledge to drag him back. Phillipe refused to let anyone mount him, so you ended up attaching the sledge to his back as you walked beside him. It was a long walk back as you didn’t realise how far you travelled on Phillipe as you were in such a mad rush to get away from the Beast which you were now helping. It made you laugh, that you were helping him. You had even sacrificed your cloak to make the sledge base. Your dress was also sacrificed as you used it to make quick bandages for the Beast’s visible wounds and your gashed leg. You were left in your pantaloons and top of your dress, turning blue with cold. Your leg hurt to stand on but seeing as Phillipe was being stubborn, you gritted your teeth and tried hard to not grunt as you walked (you gave up on walking normally and limped most of the way back). When you reached the gates your fingers lips and feet were numb and you were stumbling over your own feet. The Beast had remained unconscious for the entire trip letting out the occasional grunt of discomfort. You hoped that you wouldn’t have to fumble with the lock on the gate and like before, they thankfully parted as you approached, willingly letting you back. As you approached the steps to the grand doors you saw lights shift inside the windows. Almost immediately the entire staff came rushing out to meet you. The joy on their faces were eradicated as quickly as they came bursting out the doors when you saw what condition you were in. Most of them stared in dumbfounded silence before Mrs Potts spoke up. “Cedric, Johnathon, please take Y/N’s horse back to the stable and treat it accordingly.” A shovel and bucket slowly came down the steps and approached Phillipe who clearly recognised them as he let them escort him away after you took of the make-shift stretcher. “Y/F/N, Plumette, please escort Y/N to her chambers and help her with her injuries.” Mrs Potts nodded at them before addressing everyone else. “Everyone else you are to help move the master to his chambers so that we can treat his injuries.” You felt suddenly guilty. They were all so small, there was no way that they could move him up all those stairs, and even Phillipe struggled. They expected you to patch up yourself. You couldn’t do it, let them struggle. “I’ll help you.” You say as you pull away from Y/F/N and Plumette as you begin to head over to the Beast’s unconscious form. “No dear,” Mrs Potts began, “You’re injured. We’ll help the master, you go get cleaned up.” You knew that she would be very adamant about you not helping but you were determined. “Mrs Potts.” You started, “You cannot simply carry him up all those stairs. You need my help.” “But your leg….” “Has been walked on for the past hour. I will survive, I can deal with it. He cannot.” You gestured to several of the Beast’s bandages (or your ex-dress) which were now very red. “But…” “Mrs Potts, he saved my life.” You stated and a hush came over the staff and they all stared. “I have to help.” You whispered. Mrs Potts merely nodded as you bent down and grabbed the stretcher before painfully tugged at it to get it to move up the stairs. ———————————————————————————————————– If it baffled you how you got the Beast to the castle, it astounded you that you managed to get him up all those stairs and into his bed. Plumette and several other feather dusters had run upwards to clean the bed, which you found out he didn’t normally sleep on. You had done the majority of the heavy lifting but the staff had opened doors and directed you to several hidden ramps which they had used before being cursed for trays. It made your task much easier but by the time the Beast was in his bed, you were pretty sure you were close to passing out from exhaustion, loss of blood and the cold. When the Beast was safely secure in his bed you began slowly changing his bandages as Mrs Potts had kindly brought you a steaming hot bowl of water. You had barely touched the provided wet cloth to his first wound before the Beast stirred and let out a loud roar. You pressed on ignoring the cries until he yanked his arm away from you. “THAT HURTS!” He yelled in your face. You yanked his arm back over to you, your anger making you forget that he was injured and that the majority of the staff were watching you. “If you hold still and grit your teeth, it wouldn’t hurt as much.” You retorted as you finished cleaning the wound on his arm and patching it up with an actual bandage not your dress. You started on the one on his stomach before he grunted out. “If you hadn’t run away none of this would have happened.” He growled at you. Your vision slightly blurred with anger and you began violently wiping at his stomach gash. “If you hadn’t frightened me and made me fear for my life, perhaps I wouldn’t have run away!” You spat back at him as you wrung out the wet towel back into the bowl before wrapping a bandage sloppily around his waist. “Well you shouldn’t have been in the West wing!” He fired back as you pushed him over onto his side so you could treat the tears in his back. You silently seethed as you knew that he was right. You weren’t meant to be in the wing bit you still did knowing that it was forbidden. However you were not going to let him win this argument. “Well,” you spluttered, “you should learn to control your temper!” You felt him tense under your hands as you finished treating his back wounds. As you rolled him back so he was looking at the ceiling you could see the guilt in his eyes. “Try and get some rest.” You said. He didn’t look at you before he rolled back onto his side to face away from you once more. You could tell almost instantly that he was asleep. You slipped of the bed, bowl in hand and started muttering to yourself about how you’d strangle him in his sleep when you noticed the entire staff staring at you. You could read their faces and all of them were of concern for both you and the Beast. You had no idea why they liked him. “Why do you care about him?” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. You scolded yourself for your insensitivity but thankfully Mrs Potts answered you question willingly. “We’ve looked after him his entire life.” She said smiling, clearly reminiscing on fond memories. You had to wonder how such memories could exist after the Beast has put them through, as it was clear to you that the Beast was the cause of their current predicament. Children most certainly talk more than adults. “But…” You paused, wondering how to phrase your concern, “He’s cursed you somehow. Why? You clearly did nothing to deserve this.” Mrs Potts just bowed her head slightly. “You’re right about one thing. We did nothing. When his mother died and his father moulded him into the cruel man he was, we did nothing. We watched it happen.” She was about to add on that only one person called him out on his actions but she didn’t want you to realise that you had been here before so she remained silent instead. You felt your heart slightly twinge with sympathy for the Beast. You knew what it was like to lose a parent as you’d lost both. Somehow it made him seem human to you and not just a real life monster. You were about to ask more questions but Y/F/N got in before you. “Come, you must clean up and rest.” He said, clearly concerned for you. “But what about…” “We’ll look after him, you go and clean your wounds and sleep.” Lumière encouraged. Sleep sounded very pleasant. You nodded begrudgingly and slowly trooped out of the room. Just as you reached the doorway you turned to look at Mrs Potts and Cogsworth. “I’ll be back in the morning to tend to his wounds and every day after till he is healthy again.” You said, feeling that this would be repaying your debt to him for saving your life. You scarcely remember having a bath, cleansing and stitching your gash or changing clothes as you were asleep whilst awake and when you slept it was dreamless and empty. ———————————————————————————————————– The Beast can sleep a lot. You’d been treating him for roughly a week and the only times he was awake was when you washed his wounds as he cried like a baby at each wipe and when you brought him food which was usually the same time as wound dressing time. You spent most of the day’s curled up in a large chair by his bed either napping or reading one of the three books that you brought in your bag. By the third day however you’d read them all twice as you nothing better to do as the staff all insisted that you were to rest due to your leg. You resorted to reciting the brought plays from memory. You acted out the scenes in full force which at one point caused Cogsworth to rush in as he thought someone was attacking you when you got too into a fight sequence. You had to stand there rather sheepishly and explain the situation to him whilst he gave you a solid icy stare. He burst out laughing after you explained and you had to restrain yourself from hitting him for making you feel so stupid. As you sat by the Beast you started noticing his beastly features less and less and it was only then that you realised that he wasn’t wearing the tattered robe that he had been when he saved you. He was wearing a plain white shirt, which was easy to move over his body for you treat his wounds without him waking from the movement. You noted that it suited him and you immediately smacked yourself for thinking such things. On the fifth day you brought your paints to the room and decided to paint your china hand to match the leaf motifs that were everywhere in the castle. Your sunset had been washed away from both the snow and your bath so you felt like your plain white hand needed upgrading. You made good progress when Y/F/N came in to check on you and you ended up spending the majority of the rest of the day talking with him about artists and engineers that you were fond of. You seemed to agree on many things and didn’t differ from one another often, the occasional disagreement occurred between you about how good a certain art piece was. By the end of the week, the wounds had closed but there were several large bruises which you knew would be hurting for a long while to come. You had cleaned his wounds in the morning where he had fallen asleep once again straight afterwards. It was in the afternoon after Mrs Potts had brought you lunch when you started reciting ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ from memory as you had left the book at the church, but you’d read it so many times that you could easily recite it all. “Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind…” You recounted. “And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.” You jumped slightly at the deep sound of his voice. He was awake and staring intently at you. You started to internally panic about how long he had been awake for and whether he had heard enough to realise that you had an unhealthy obsession with books. You also wondered how he knew what you were reciting. He was a Beast, what Beast knew how to read? “You know Shakespeare?” You asked but also stated as a fact. He grunted slightly in amusement before gesturing around him as he stood up. “I had an expensive education.” He stated plainly. You stayed in a slightly awkward silence before you decide to try and be 'sociable’ for once by starting a conversation. “Romeo and Juliet is my favourite play.” You said proudly. He simply snorted and rolled his eyes. “Why does that not surprise me?” He snorted. You could hear the slight teasing tone in his voice. You couldn’t help but feel offended by his response. “I’m sorry?” You questioned wishing for him to explain his last sentence. “Well, all that heartache and pining and…” He didn’t finish because he let out a small disgusted shudder. “There are so many better thing to read.” He stated matter-of-factly. You couldn’t help but feel insulted. He’d just called your favourite book terrible and not only that he just insinuated that all your books were awful. “Like what?!” You challenged as you were not going to let him get away with such opinions. He didn’t reply and only simply smiled. He began pushing himself out of bed towards a changing screen which he disappeared behind before emerging in a medium blue suit. It looked stunning on him and you forgot to scold him about taking this slowly after what he’s been through. Instead you just stared dumbly at him waiting for a response. Before long he had approached you and simply offered his hand to help you stand before he quickly pulled it away after realising what he was doing. You stood and he gestured for you to follow him and for some strange reason your body complied. “I’ll show you.” he mumbled as you and he left his room for the first time in practically a week. ———————————————————————————————————– In the village, Père Robert was beginning to worry. He had read your note through a couple of times and he understood why you left. In fact in the beginning he thought little of it and he continued about his business as usual. One week after you’d left, he began you grow concerned. You’d promised that you’d send a letter as soon as you arrived in Touquet. He should have received one but he hadn’t so although he went about his days like usual, he grew more and more concerned about you. Once the second week had past, he knew something was wrong. You were forgetful, he knew that, but never did you break a promise. He packed up a horse immediately and began to make his way to Touquet to ensure that you were safe. All he did was pray that you were alive and that his nightmares hadn’t come into fruition.
Wow, Peter is a jerk. He breaks into McGregor’s
home and throws a party, trashing and destroying his home with the other animals. Just look at poor Mr. McGregor’s face. He’s not raging and chasing the animals after they destroyed his home. He’s tired and giving up. Hope this scene has some kind of context, otherwise I would not blame McGregor if hassenfeffer is on the menu.