#LeFou | batb17 verse |
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tcthinecwnself-a · 2 years ago
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LeFou tag dump
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jclifou · 8 years ago
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hello! ^-^ figured i'd come here after reading your R&A pages, and my favourite BaTB17 song has deffo gotta be "Gaston", tho it's also tied with "The Mob Song" - i can't choose! :'cc (ooh, also, i-if fox!nicky doesn't really work for you, i-i have a human!nicky verse!) [super-duper love your blog, btw! josh's lefou is my favourite, ee! :D]
⚜️ parmi les fleurs ⚜️
;;You’re took kind, thank you! :DLook, I’ll be real with you friend, I’m a bad person; I didn’t LeFou at all in the ‘91. Thought he was an utter prick. Gad’s LeFou isn’t just my favorite, it’s my only! XD
This was, LeFou reminded him uneasily( wishing very much that he could forget it), supposedly a haunted woods. It like something out a fairy tale for children: dark and eerily still, shot through with sudden, darting motions and sounds. Far from comforting. Far from comfortable. LeFou drew his coat and his courage closer around him, hands tightening on the reigns of the horse.
Now it felt more foolish than ever to have embarked on this journey without Gaston, so alone and small he felt in the pressing darkness. His lanterns seemed barely to pierce the thick cloak of night; as a matter of fact, the wagon was nearly thrown over the fallen tree before he saw it, pulling hard on the reigns in a desperate bid to stop on time; Percival clearly did not appreciate the rough treatment, tossing his mane and stamping one angry hoof.
“Shhh, shhh, I know. I’m sorry.” LeFou slipping down from the wagon, coming around to stroke the horse’s fine coat, to coax the beast back into a better mood. “Come on, then. Let’s back up a bit, mmm?” And, he added silently, entirely to himself and his pounding heart, hope nothing emerges from the woods in the meantime.
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tcthinecwnself-a · 4 years ago
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@intuwitchtion​​ said: “ you’re doing great , okay ?? i mean it . ” lefou for lafolle FIGHT ME PEGGY
Hurt / Comfort starters
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“It’s not that special.” Any girl in the village knew how to sew yes, but perhaps her Papa was referring to the designs littered across the clothing. She was getting much better at stitching butterflies, vines, and other natural patterns into the hem of her clothing, making them look much fancier than they probably were. Though she originally dismissed his comment, LaFolle’s smile grew.
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“Buuut --- merci, Papa.”
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