#ms bean

[fathomlesslyqueer]

Ms Bean: opens an orphanage

Ms Bean, weeks later:

Time for a field trip, little ones!

[cave-n-dish]

🎲 Hedonist is increasing...

‘Til we meet again.

@msbeanfl

[msbeanfl]

You await the morning after on a sun that never set, and you'd rather be shackled with grief than riddled with regret. But regret is a call to action; grief: a self-satisfying pyre. You mistook your chains for worship, and you couldn't see the forest for the fire.

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

🎲 Is this a strange way to interact for the first time ever? Perhaps. Would @msbeanfl like a kiss regardless? Absolutely.

a smooch for Ms. Bean! a lovely way to start a friendship if you ask Elias~

[photozoi]

Mr Peabody, enjoying his supper. (Bloodworms are to be sucked clean and the hulls left for the cleaner fish.) He complacently sucks on his worm.

And then, disaster! Bean darts through and grabs Peabody’s dinner and makes for the underbrush, Mr Peabody in hot pursuit! Clever girl!

(I would like to point out that there are more bloodworms available, but the worm in your partners mouth is more desirable than the one in the dish. No one need starve here.)

[fathomlesslyqueer]

Ms Bean and Moira Sherlock

#15 a kiss along the hips

My partner doesn't use Tumblr but caught wind of kisspocalypse and wanted to give it a go! They rolled #15 and decided to just go all in on the sauciness :D

[msbeanfl]

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Ms Bean Who? - A BIO

In almost all aspects of appearance, the word of choice for Ms Bean would be “austere”. Standing tall, straight, and broad, above average height for either/any sex, sharp angles adorn her countenance - from pointy chin to tightly-wound bun, pursed lips painted black, and a light scar crossing the piercing eye of a perceptive woman - punctuated by hollow cheeks: a trademark of hungry artists. 

But as strands of hair break rank, they frame her face in shadow. And those eyes, as round as figs, have a kind light lost within that betray this fiction of austerity. In truth, she is a hedonist through and through; many have witnessed her piercing eyes become softer glances, and the mask of temperance being thrown to the ground amidst other discarded garments…

Like many, Ms Bean was once fresh and penniless in the Neath, although recent ventures and windfall have made her healthy and spry; her body is lean in musculature, though covered in scars, both owing themselves to a new hobby in boxing. As for her academic pursuits, she has found talent as a Non-Speculative Author, which she is willing to fight people in defence of it being somehow different to non-fiction. Constantly adventuring for inspiration or recording the larger-than-life histories of fellow Londoners, her publications always stretch the boundaries of fact and fiction.

She has a reputation for both philanthropy (such as Ms Bean's Home for Dispossessed Unfortunates) and ruthlessness (found in the punishingly truthful pages of The Troubling Times). Driven by the idea that the world must be forced to change, she feverishly studies the Correspondence for some breakthrough in epistemology. Ms Bean will change hearts and minds; either with a spectrum of persuasive techniques, or by rewriting reality itself.

[fathomlesslyqueer]

Ms Bean has a Parabolan reflection that feeds off of her unfinished stories. It sows doubt and anxiety, disuading Ms Bean so that more often her words go unwritten. It moves with the sounds of rustling paper, likes pages flitting in the breeze. Every failure is another rare delicacy to consume; another medium through which to gather strength; another well-done plot to gobble up. Her Parabolan reflection is only one Ms Steak among many.