differentfromtherestofus:

Can you swallow 4 dozen eggs?: little town.

differentfromtherestofus:

The village was still quiet, as always, as the sun slowly rose over the small town where Belle had resided her entire life. A cock crowed somewhere as she grabbed her basket from the table,…

Though Gaston looked disgusted with her book as he quickly flung it over his shoulder, Belle was more disgusted by him than anything. Somewhere in the background, the three Bimbettes were swooning and sighing, but Belle just wanted to take her book and get away from Gaston as fast as possible. As he flexed, she almost felt her stomach turn over inside her, reaching down to grab her book from the mud puddle it had landed in. Quickly wiping it off with her apron, she shook her head and tried to be at least civil, even if in a slightly mocking way.

“Gaston, you are positively primeval,” She told him, only to look at him in shock as he took it as a compliment. Could anyone truly be so stupid? And then suddenly his arm was around her, and her skin felt like it would start crawling as he made noises about visiting his tavern, and she quickly looked for an excuse, whirling out of his arms as fast as she could.

“Please, Gaston, I can’t. I-I have to get home to help my father,” She said, clutching the book to her chest, forgetting about the basket in the crook of her arm. “Goodbye.”

And then there was an outburst of laughter as his stupid little henchman mocked her father, calling him a crazy old loon, and when Gaston joined in the laughter, Belle felt anger in the pit of her stomach and she immediately marched towards them, indignant on her father’s behalf.

“Don’t talk about my father that way!” She said, hands on her hips as she glared at the two, wondering how on Earth anyone could like either of them when they behaved like this.

(via no-one-loves-you-like-gaston-de)

differentfromtherestofus:

The village was still quiet, as always, as the sun slowly rose over the small town where Belle had resided her entire life. A cock crowed somewhere as she grabbed her basket from the table, and the book she was to take back to town. As she opened the door of her…

Though Gaston had shouted her name, Belle was oblivious to it, completely absorbed in her book as she rapidly approached chapter three, in which her heroine would discover who her Prince Charming was. She was vaguely aware of three girls, whom her and her father had nicknamed the Bimbettes, fawning over someone (most likely Gaston, their obsession), but she walked on, weaving skillfully through the crowd. So many years in the town had allowed her to memorize the patterns of the townsfolk, and near enough the exact paths they would take every day, so she quickly passed through the crowd, oblivious to stares and whispers about her as she approached home, wondering for a second if her father had finished his invention before quickly becoming enraptured in her story again.

And then the most peculiar feeling came over her, a feeling of being watched, and she turned, only to see townsfolk going about their business, eyes nowhere on her. Strange, but she supposed it was just one of those things. Maybe someone had walked over her grave; something her grandmother used to say, to explain strange feelings that you could never describe. She missed her, just as she missed her mother, but the close bond she had with her father made up for it. Turning back into her book, she took a few steps forward, only to hear a familiar, overly-masculine voice, and her heart sank as she realized that Gaston was demanding her attention; she was not in the mood to deal with such a disgusting person right now.

(via no-one-loves-you-like-gaston-de)