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?

((Member of DCRP

M!A status: none

Tracking: bicepstospare

**graphics not mine unless stated, all credits to owners. Gaston's views and opinions are not my own))
My, What A Guy
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Dorinda studied him for a moment, wondering if he was really telling the truth. She wanted to ask him if he didn’t want a romantic love with a woman, or if he already had one already, but she decided to let the matter go until another time. She laughed softly when he offered her his own wish as her own. She pulled out two coins from her purse and held them over the well, closing her eyes. “I wish for freedom,” She whispered, letting one coin drop. “And I wish to find love.” Before letting her last wish fall into the hands of an old French well.

Gaston’s eyebrows furrowed at her first wish. Freedom? She was beginning to sound like Belle. The hunter’s nose wrinkled at the thought, but Dorinda’s eyes were still closed and she made her second wish, oblivious to his distaste for her first one. His face softened when he heard what her second wish was. He found it odd that she’d wish for such a thing. When she opened her eyes, he was looking at her with curiosity. “I have to say, I never would have thought you’d wish for those things. Care to explain?”




“I believe I can help you, mademoiselle. I hear you have a bit of a bear problem around here?”

She gave him a curious look, “Aye, we do…but how can you help me about that?”

"Well, you happen to be in the presence of the greatest hunter in all of France—and quite possibly the world. I think I can handle your little bear for you, if you’d like."


"Oh right right, whatever makes you feel better." He laughed again. "Oh whaaaat? Now why would I do that to ya?" He smirked, following Gaston to the punching bags. "Am I supposed to wear the gloves still or something else?" He chuckled and nodded along with him. "Oh yeah, lord knows you would need it." He stuck his tongue out at him. "Well of course first things first, how are you gonna go pick her up for the date?" 


"Keep the gloves on. And watch your form. Remember, elbows in." He adjusted his friend’s arms to the proper position and narrowed his eyes at the comment. "I was gonna go on my chopper…but something’s telling me now that that’s probably not the best idea?"

//alright so this is what’s going on. Gaston’s back tonight for a special appearance because I asked nicely. But tomorrow and all of Saturday he’s going hunting again to get it out of his system since I told him he couldn’t take any weapons on the DCRP camping trip. So I’ll work on drafts and try to get him to cooperate~ 

Anonymous ASKED:

~What does it mean when you say Gaston has gone hunting again?~

//means my muse has escaped me and delays in replies are to be expected. Don’t worry though, his hunting trips don’t tend to last long


{Do I owe anyone? Ifeel like I do}

//you owe me, bby//



"I never said I /wanted\ you to carry me," the gypsy mumbled. "…More like I needed you to." He didn’t really like it either, but it was the only way, and it was clear he wouldn’t be doing anymore walking that night.

What he hated even more about it was how warm the man was. And how he felt as if he were floating in his arms, since he did it so leisurely. And how the tuft of chest hair sticking out from his shirt was tickling his cheek. And how he could feel the muscles in his torso tense against his skin.

What the hell was happening?

He’d only just met this man but an hour ago, and what he’d seen so far was narcissistic and callous. He had threatened to stuff his best friend and hang him on the wall! And the way he talked to that Lefou fellow wasn’t very nice either.

"Don’t talk to you like what?" he snapped back in a small whisper.

So then why was he almost enjoying this? Gypsies don’t do well in stone walls, so they surely would not do well in the arms of a sadistic, self-involved chunk of muscle.

There was no attraction there. There wouldn’t be. There shouldn’t be.

There could not be.

“Like that,” he frowned down at the gypsy. “You know you could stand to be more gracious, considering how nice I’ve been to you,” he commented, blind to how ironic the statement was. Though he was slightly annoyed, he found that he almost liked the way the man in his arms felt. He fit so well there…

Gaston pushed the door open when they reached his house. It wasn’t locked, for he knew no one would dare venture inside. The interior of his home was decorated similar to the tavern, though it wasn’t so suited to welcome guests. The house was slightly too large for one person to live in alone, even when the one person was as large as Gaston.

The hunter carried Esmeraldo up the stairs and into one of the spare rooms. He set the gypsy down on the bed before disappearing out the door. He returned moments later with a wet towel and some bandages. “You think you can handle cleaning and dressing that yourself?”



The boy just gazed at him, straight in the face, his lip breaking skin from his own teeth. There was something quite obviously sadistic to Gaston, what with the countless taxidermy projects lining his walls, and now just standing there watching him in pain. It frustrated him, but also intrigued him. With another gasp of air he reluctantly whimpered, “Please.”

Gaston stood looking questioningly at the younger man before him. “What? Don’t tell me you want me to carry you!” He scoffed. When the plea came from the boy he sneered, but reluctantly stepped towards him. He lifted the gypsy with ease, holding him bridal style.

“Don’t get any funny ideas now. I’m only doing this because it’ll get us home quicker.” He shook his head and looked forward. “Oh, and don’t ever talk to me like that again,” he was referring to the disrespectful tone he’d taken moments ago.


"If I could stand, don’t you think I would have!?" He spat out, trying not to be too loud. This Gaston had an attitude, and it was about to be matched, regardless of the engagement made. The gypsy slipped his fingers into the larger man’s meaty grasp to be hoisted up, biting his lip all the while and cursing under his breath.

The hunter looked at Esmeraldo with intrigue at his retort. He wasn’t sure what brought it on, but Gaston decided he didn’t like his tone much. He crossed his arms and raised a brow at the gypsy. “I don’t suppose you can walk either, then?”

To celebrate my first 100 followers (wowie thank you guys so much) I’ll do one of those mun things~

Name: Irma

Nicknames: Irmom, Irbama, Irlen, Mimo

Birthday: June 9th 

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Pansexual

Height: 5’8”

Blog(s):  el oh el i have many, but the only active ones are Gaston’s and my personal. coming soon: Fix-it Felix, Jr~ Keep an eye out ;)

Mun FC(s) if any: Annette Funicello and Lucille Bluth (Jessica Walter)


i would have done a follow forever but i think its still too early for one so maybe another time