I'm Gaston, but you knew that. The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure. Have you come to admire all of my trophies? Or perhaps just marvel at my beauty?

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My, What A Guy
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"What did you just call me?"




"I called you a moron, Gaston, because that is precisely what you’re acting like."

"Yeah? Well it takes one to know one!" He snarled.

"Very clever, Gaston." Belle replied, rolling her eyes.

He smirked. “Isn’t it?” he chuckled, feeling proud of himself. 


His stomach dropped as he gingerly took one of the man’s hands into his own, spreading its fingers apart, and running his fingers over the intriguingly rough skin of its palm.

"Hmm," the gypsy pretended to examine the lines, but instead was now far too content with the feeling of Gaston’s massive hand in his own.

To avoid suspicion however, he eventually got to actually reading his palm.

"You have a broken heart line, that starts right under your middle finger," the gypsy explained, running his own fingers along its path. "That means you’ve had some emotional trauma, and…you’re selfish when it comes to love. Hmm…a short head line. So you like real, tangible achievements, or physical ones as opposed to mental ones." He examined his hand further, taking in the feeling of the skin once more. He had an urge to play with his fingers, but resisted. "A straight life line…you’re cautious with other people. Although I didn’t need to see your palm to figure that out." He laughed softly. "And you have a broken fate line. Your future is easily manipulated by things you can’t control." He finally looked the man in the eyes, but still gripped his hand with both of his. After a moment, he smiled. "Told you it wouldn’t hurt."

Well it hurt a little bit. At least to his ego it did, though he wasn’t about to admit it. He regretted letting the man read him and pulled his hand out of the other’s grasp. “That’s nonsense! How did you get all of that from my hand?” he looked at his palm in disbelief. “None of that’s true, anyway.” He rubbed his palm with the thumb of his opposite hand, frowning.

When Feistiness Met Arrogance


Anna looked at him at him cautiously before leaning in to hear his plan. She nodded slowly. “Yeah… We can do that… We’ll just.. Have to sneak into my room.” She looked at him suspiciously. “You will have to wait outside my room while I change though.” She put a small amount of money on the table, enough to cover the damage, and began walking out of the restaurant. 

Anna crossed her arms as she walked, feeling embarrassed about the smell. She had never had beer before, but if anyone caught her smelling like that, they might begin to think that she was drinking. 

Anna carefully and quietly led them inside the palace gates, past the front of the castle, and around to the side where her bedroom was. She pointed upwards. “It’s up there. Do you think we can make it?”

He followed next to her, looking around casually. When they reached  the outside of her window, he assessed the building. Nodding, he turned to Anna. “Of course, it’ll be easy. Do you want me to carry you? It might be faster,” he teased. He chuckled to himself as he remembered what she’d told him about staying outside her room as she changed. “Oh,and I have to be in there with you. When you change, I mean. What if someone were to come by and see me outside your room? What would I say?” He shook his head. “No, no. Too risky. Don’t worry though, I won’t peek. Unless you want me to,” he winked playfully.

"What did you just call me?"


"I called you a moron, Gaston, because that is precisely what you’re acting like."

"Yeah? Well it takes one to know one!" He snarled.


dbzfan1980 ASKED:

Oh, I came from England to see Quasi and Belle. So, do you have a girlfriend yet?

"Ew," he wrinkled his nose at the names. "And no, not a girlfriend. I have many.” He shrugged.

dbzfan1980 ASKED:

Hello Mr Sexy-Pants. You still hitting on girls? It's me Alice by the way.

"Oh, you know it mon ami. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? You missed me, I know. What brings you back to France?”



"Sit down and find out," the boy responded, looking up at the man through his eyelashes. When the man was being kind of sensitive, he was suddenly more attractive. Esmeraldo remembered the feeling of being carried in his arms and was suddenly hyper aware of his proximity, a pang of nervousness pulsating from his stomach to his toes.

"It won’t hurt or anything," he laughed. "Not that I’d be able to leave a scratch on you anyway."

Gaston narrowed his eyes, feeling the slightest bit reluctant to sit down. But Gaston was no coward— no, not in the slightest. “Fine, but don’t try any funny business.” He sat on the bed once again, only he sat closer to the boy this time.

He looked at Esmeraldo expectantly, curious as to what was about to happen.


He grumbled a bit at how strong he was. He threw another punch at it, trying a little harder. “Hmm well that’s a tough call. It all depends on her. Some women really want the cheese gestures like that and some find it utterly disgusting. So what I would recommend is that you buy the flowers but keep them in the back seat, maybe bring one flower with you when you go to her door, then if she seems like the kind of girl who likes flowers, then maybe give them to her afterward and tell her the truth. If anything she might find it sweet that you were the tiniest bit insecure about something.” 


Huh. "Thanks, I’ll try that." The man pictured the whole situation playing out and smiled, finding it would probably work. He continued to punch the bag in front of him. "How’d you get so good at this stuff, anyway?" The larger man asked with a tone that slightly suggested envy.

He appraised Chad’s form and effort. “Oh, and you’re doing a lot better than last time. Let me know when you’re ready for a break,” he chuckled.