mr bean

just trying to live his life. increasingly involved in disasters. indie rp but the least serious rp there is. sideblog.

[handsomemrbean]

tarot card uquiz

the fool

there is an endless road ahead of you. long and winding, it is impossible to imagine every fork, every path you could take. like looking down from a high place, the sheer magnitude is dizzying. but it is freeing. god, it is freeing. you have all the time in the world to explore– endless choices to make; take time to appreciate it all. just be careful not to lose yourself to the recklessness that comes with such wondrous freedom. / NUMBER: 0 / UPRIGHT: beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit / REVERSED: holding back, recklessness, risk-taking

the way i laughed when this was the tarot card that popped up ksdjfldskjfkdsjfslkdfjlkdsjf. what a man

tagged by @ofyorkshire "for any of my blogs" and this is the one that i thought of and once i'd thought of it i had to do it. bonus:

the way Bean looked horrified at "something within me. i do not know if i am strong enough to kill it. will i die with it? is it me?". but his answer was 'something larger than myself' bc he's afraid of lightning

[handsomemrbean]

njbsgakdhshka mr bean in horror/fantasy settings with horror muses makes me laugh aloud and i haven't even seen what he does there yet

Ghost: ooOOooOoOOOoooOh

Mr Bean: *holds up teddy to mimic* *high pitched* oooOOoOoooOoooh!!!!

[handsomemrbean]

oh to have more of a rp market for writing mr bean. he makes me laugh constantly. horrible. anyway i want to write him still, there is no depth to this man there are no secret hidden meanings he's just himself in his absolute entirety, let me write him with you tumblr

[memesomething]

blessed to wake up every morning and see my favourite person. in the mirror. it's me

[dirtylimerick]

          Sean had, in fact, been trying to photograph the suited gentleman. Because he was "special"? Well, maybe. "Interesting", more like. It was nice to catch an artist out in the wild, doing something they loved, even if what they loved appeared to be painting children's stuffed animals in the park. Thinking that the bear must belong to one of the children playing (possibly even the child enjoying a picnic with family just in front of the gentleman), Sean decided it was cute, but not cheesy cute, and interesting enough for a few snaps.

          Lining the shot carefully so as to focus on the gentleman and the bear, leaving the picnic a blurry impression in the background, Sean released the shutter.

          And he caught the gentleman looking directly at him.

          Oh. Sean tried not to grimace. He usually asked, really, he did. It was sort of like his personal professional policy or whatever, especially having gotten a sour taste of how shitty it felt to have so-called journalists shoving their cameras in his face in the States. So, yeah. Ask first, photograph later, even if it chanced ruining an otherwise nice candid. Except... well, this guy had been so in the zone, you know? Sean couldn't help himself. He needed to capture the undisturbed look of focus, of enjoyment, and, shit, now the guy was probably going to move, or worse, tell him to piss off, and...

          The gentleman seemed to enjoy it. Sean lowered his camera and squinted as the gentleman not only went back to work, but hammed it, winning a laugh.

          Alright, Picasso, he thought, grinning. It wasn't exactly candid anymore, but there was still an amusing charm about it. Let's get your close up...

          The shutter clicked again.

[handsomemrbean]

Sunflower, Teddy perched beside it, smiley face in the top left (to test the paint), the sun. Bean flourished his paintbrush, holding it with two fingers and thumb the way one might hold a teacup as he delicately stroked out the shape of Teddy's fluffy ears. After a moment - sure that the camera shutter was still clicking away - he very convincingly faked a yawn, eyes on Sean rather than on his painting (Teddy's ear hair was not that pronounced), so that he could stretch out his free arm in a muscle-man pose. When this did not discourage him he rearranged his legs to be crossed seductively, eyeing down the camera under hooded, serious brows, tongue licking at his lower lip, eyebrows wa--

the brush slipped off the canvas and Bean looked back, suddenly away he had been painting, still, and Teddy's ear was now more of an antennae. Bean stood, chair tumbling backwards behind him with the force of the movement, paint brush still weaponised in his hand.

Oh, no. Oh, that wouldn't do. Oh, Teddy.

Oh.

A moment of flounder - what to do what to do what to do - but Bean collected the same handkerchief he'd used a second ago, to wipe away the black splodge, and wipe-- used the dirty, covered-in-paint part of the handkerchief. The black spread.

Oh, Teddy. Oh, his hands shook a little, but he licked a clean corner of the handkerchief and wiped at the glob of black paint that was n- oh - oh it just -

He looked back to the cameraman and jerked around to be facing him fully, body in front of the canvas, arm outstretched to fully defend it from his camera's line of sight. Just casually standing. Just, um. Casually standing there doing nothing. Standing. Standingly. Oh, a Cameraman? Oh, hello (Bean waved airily, as though the Queen), legs crossed awkwardly for how he was standing, hiding the canvas.

He was going to have to get rid of this canvas and start again. There was nothing else for it. He stowed the handkerchief - still covered in black, along with his fingers - back into his breast-pocket and crossed his arms (left fingermarks on his blazer's left elbow), standing merrily, waiting for Sean to turn his back for long enough to make the switch of canvas. OK. Okay okay okay okay. This was salvageable.

This was salvageable.

[handsomemrbean]

please hit like/rb this post if you're interested in interacting with mr bean (rowan atkinson) from Mr Bean. i will add the disclaimer this blog is a sideblog and entirely just for good fun for until i get tired of him, but he's fun to write, the challenge of his voice (how physical he is) is a good time. whee!

[handsomemrbean]

@invisibellamy

Library was open late. Late. Bean wasn't there to socialise, he was there to study (pass this driver's exam. License had been suspended after the racecar incident. NOT his fault), but man at next table was turning his page just a little fraction of a second before Bean. Repeatedly. Just 'reading a bit faster'.

Seriously?

Bean turned to look at him, lips parted in a frown.

If there was a competition about who was most passionate about passing their exams, Bean was winning. He had matchsticks in his eyes.

He flicked his page of his book with three crisp, resounding cracks of paper, straight up, straight diagonal and straight down, as though to make a point. Was he being made fun of? He was reading these books. In a library. Like a normal person.

Did this man want to go? Bean could go.

[handsomemrbean]

@dirtylimerick

Camera shutter.

Bean was painting today. He sat in the park, the sun a little too bright for his liking. He had moved his seat twice since starting because the shade of the tree liked to run away. There were five squirts of paint on a little plastic board below the canvas and Bean had three bruses, a glass of water, and a canister of tea. He had only drunk paint-tea four times since starting. All in all, a resounding success. he dappled busily at a leaf he had been painting with the lime green paint, then experimented with a little black paint.

Too much black paint. Too much paint. Get the paint off. Paper towels? Nnnnone. A look around, sourcing a solution. Handkerchief. He smeared black-green paint on the canvas beside the happy face he had drawn in the top left.

Camera shutter.

Bean tried not to notice, or at least not to notice too noticeably, but he was being photographed. Like a celebrity artist. Photographed because he was s p e c i a l.

He caught the photographer's camera from the corner of his eye, and gave the man a look that was difficult to interpret, then made a point of peering around his canvas to look at the subject he was painting. There was a family picnic there, in front of him, but he wasn't painting that. He was painting Teddy under the sunflower with a little, scale beach umbrella to protect him from the sun.

After examining his muse he returned to his painting, licked the end of his still-wet paintbrush delicately, and selected brown. If he was going to be photo-graphed, he was going to put on an excellent show.

[handsomemrbean]

@normaltothemax

Here was the situation: child alone. No adult in sight. Certainly not Mr Bean. Teddy was seeing the same thing Mr Bean was seeing, when he turned to check.

Bean decided to leave him there. There was sunlight in the field, and water. Someone would find him eventually. The car continued rolling, slowing but not stopping as it passed. He did not look back other than a few glances in the rear-view, but child was not chasing them, just sitting upset on the side of the road and perhaps a bit surprised he'd driven on by, so Bean continued.

The car got another three hundred or so metres away before Bean found he was still looking in the rearview, and there still were no other cars for miles, and he sighed heartily and rolled his eyes. They'd be late for Teddy's single slice of beef wellington back home.

He switched on his orange blinker, tick-tick, tick-tick, and made a u-turn.

The car pulled to a stop in front of Lucy. Dust swirled 'round the tyers. Bean would need to clean his car after this. In more than one sense of the word.

He rolled down the window on Lucy's side, and leant across the seat where Teddy was strapped in. Lucy would have to go in the back, the passenger seat was occupied.

"Bean," he said, severely. The doors unlocked.