#beanbag bois

[loroliyesplaything]

just three goobers in the night

Sal is having the time of his life to the right, Timmie is observing from the left, and Tarana is quietly enjoying the moment in the middle!

I'm gonna draw so very many beanbags adventures!!

[hitwiththetmnt]

“H-Hello! I come from the @the-forgor-four-rottmnt group! I got a bunch of cookies from some anon so I want to show some support for the competitors in the @tmntaucompetition! Would you like some?”

Guys we’re getting some bomb ass snacks in the backrooms (òvóˇ)/🍪

[alitgblog]

haven't played the new episodes yet but this is what i imagine is happening in the main villa rn

[crossbackpoke-check]

the deweys photos are from this video: https://youtu.be/5xTwJho44ao?si=bPw8MZZ327lCogVZ aren’t they just everything

kissing you and the minnesota wild official media team (with consent) full on the mouth, THANK YOU THIS VIDEO IS EVERYTHING 🥰🥰 i have seen pieces of it before i think (connor petting a shark 🥹) but the entire video start to finish is such a delight, 10/10 would recommend

[lord-shitbox]

hello the not sober until sunday bit IS funny unfortunately i’m also a chronic worrier. u okay buddy

yeah no I got too high and got sick a bunch but like I'm good. I'll wake up in about six hours from now and probably nap later…check in with me then?? Sometime?

[boymeetsworldconfessions]

ABOUT:

Teddy "Beanbag" Bagwell is a baseball player that was 2 hit-by-pitches away from the all-time record. After getting hit once more, though, a stretcher was required and Bagwell announced to the crowd, "Today I consider myself the stupidest man on the face of the Earth. I quit baseball."

Versailles was Cory Matthews's French girlfriend in the episode No Guts, No Cory. She was a waitress in a local bakery. After serving in World War II, Cory was injured in a blast when running into enemy territory, and he lost all memories of his life, family, and girlfriend Topanga. He resumed his life in Paris under the name "Pierre" with no recollection of his past life, and fell in love with Versailles.

[spilledbeans116]

I saw “The Boy and the Heron” today! Here’s my SPOILER FREE rundown!!! I’d read this if you’re planning to see it :)

Let me start off by saying the English casting was phenomenal, and I’m excited to see it soon subbed! The animation, art style, and music was absolutely incredible, as always with Ghibli!

What everyone needs to understand, however, is that this isn’t your typical Ghibli movie. It’s almost like an autobiography of Mr. Miyazaki’s life’s work. There’s many subtle references or nods to his other work, and the story as a whole is complicated and deep. It’s obvious there was care and love poured into this project, and while it wasn’t at all what I was expecting, that isn’t a bad thing! Keep an open mind when you go to see it, and be in the moment! Enjoy it!

[king-of-the-mouseboys]

Sick of my job, thinking about stoner boys

[give-ginoza-some-bread-and-sleep]

FUCK IM A GROWN ADULT AND STILL WANT A BUNK BED WITH THE DESK UNDERNEATH IN MY DORM-

remember when u were like 11 and the only thing u wanted was a lava lamp

[loroliyesplaything]

beanbag Timmie!!

little potato goober :3

[basilhusband]

been really getting back into listening to bjork lately and playing so much aitsf

[sophieswundergarten]

#Technically Milligan Pedalian and Curtain have the apartment and the girls (Garrison and Kate’s mom and SQ’s mom) live across the street#But they all basically live in the same place so yeah why not#And it basically sums up the entire friendship dynamic between the six of them

(@nobody33333333 I'm ignoring that last bit)

[ivohex]

Hello! Hope you're having a good day ☺️🌸

I have a tiny fluffy request if that's alright... What if MC/reader wears a super fluffy oversized hoodie which makes her look super fluffy and cozy (especially when she puts on the hood) and the lnds boys take one look at her and just wants to glomp her in a bear hug? How do they deal with the cuteness aggression?

Cute Aggression || LaDS

Tara gifts you an extremely oversized hoodie. Your boyfriend finds it... cute. Unbearably cute.

Make sure to reblog and tell me who is ur favorite in the tags 🤭🤭

Pairings: Xavier/reader, Zayne/reader, Rafayel/reader, Sylus/reader (separate)

Rating: G-T (slightly suggestive, blame Sylus)

Tags: gender neutral reader, FLUFFFFF, established relationship, maybe ooc for sylus?? i did my best, cute AGGRESSION from raf, xav being sly, zayne being a nerd (thanks wikipedia), me fighting for my life to write hoodie and not hoddie omg

A/N: tysm for this prompt, I giggled while writing these (esp Raf's and Xav's.) I hardly ever write fluff so this was fun for me. Hope you like them!!! <3

Tara got the hoodie for you as a present. The Hoodie, as she formally dubbed it, claimed a mysterious power: one which made the wearer irresistible. The Hoodie had grown so popular they were nearly impossible to find, but Tara had her ways.

She'd presented it to you with a twinkle in her eyes. "I'm serious! This hoodie is magical!"

"Evol?" you questioned, accepting the package from Tara gleefully.

She shook her head. "No. Magic! Just," she'd said, placing a hand on your shoulder, "Trust me."

After work, you head straight to your boyfriend's place...

More below the cut!

"What's this?" Xavier asks, poking the bag with a finger.

"I got a gift," you say, then clarify, "From Tara," before he has a chance to interrogate you further.

You open the package together and stare at the hoodie. It's so big that you could shove Xavier's oversized beanbag chair in it with room to spare.

Xavier brings a thoughtful hand to his chin. "It looks... comfortable."

You agree. Eagerly, you yank it on, wiggling your arms through the sleeves, which are so long they hang off your hands. Then you turn to face Xavier, and nearly stumble backwards, because he's suddenly right in front of you.

"X-Xavier? What's wrong?"

There's a strange gleam in his eyes. He tugs you to the couch, pulls you to his side, and wraps his arms around you.

Blushing, you look up at him. "What are you doing?"

"Checking to see how soft it is." He squeezes you tighter to his chest.

"Ow," you say, even though you don't really mean it.

You end up putting on a silly drama, one you've seen many times. You expect Xavier will just fall asleep partway like usual.

But that doesn't appear to be the case this time. He keeps nuzzling his face into the hoodie, like a giant housecat trying to soak up your body heat. Every so often, he grips your arms or hips or thighs, and you start to worry he'll leave handprints if he keeps it up.

"You're not even watching!" you chide him softly.

He plays with the too-long sleeves. "Hm?"

Huffing, you start to repeat yourself. "I said—"

"I'm cold," he says suddenly, and he adds on a full-body shiver to boot. You aren't sure you buy it, but... "Aren't you cold?"

"How can I be?" you answer, snorting. You make a token effort to writhe out of his grasp, but he just holds you tighter.

"Yeah, your hoodie looks pretty warm," he murmurs, sighing. Then he looks away again, shivering, and rubbing his arms.

"Pfft. Do you want to try it on?"

Really, you should have known better.

He just smiles at you, as if that's what he'd wanted you to say, then suddenly shoves your shoulder. You topple backwards onto the cushion with a gasp, as he pulls the hoodie up and wriggles in alongside you. Then he pushes his arms through the sleeves and entwines his fingers with your own.

Evidently pleased with himself, he sighs happily and leans against you. "Yeah, this is much better."

"I thought you said your friend got you a hoodie," Zayne says. He reaches forward to adjust the hood's collar, which had gotten twisted somehow as you pulled it on. "This looks more like a tent with arms to me."

You lift your arm and look at the comically long sleeve. "It's... Tara said it's magical."

You feel your cheeks warming. You didn't need to say that, only you couldn't think of how else to respond.

"Oh?"

Zayne takes a seat in his recliner, tugging you along with him so that you end up sitting on his lap. Then he takes the hoodie strings and begins quietly winding them around his index finger. He's quiet for a long moment.

You lightly shake his shoulders, blushing. "...You're not saying anything."

"Your face is red," he replies without missing a beat. "What? I thought we were taking turns stating the obvious."

You open your mouth to say something smart when he suddenly hugs you, squeezing you against his chest. Not too firmly, but with enough strength that you begin to put together what's happening.

You push him back so you can look into his eyes, fixing him with a smug grin. "Zayne, have you ever heard of cute aggression?"

He scoffs, but smiles back. "I probably know more than you do. Should I give you a lesson? When a human sees something they think is... cute, activity in the orbitofrontal cortex increases. Then the body produces neurohormones, which may stimulate feelings of both affection and aggression. They can manifest like this," he says, pinching your cheeks.

"I see." The words come out garbled and strange because he's still pulling your cheeks. He chuckles.

"Or," he says, moving his lips to your shoulder. "Like this." Then he bites down, and you can feel his teeth even through the fleece.

You squirm on his lap. "Hey! You can't just bite someone because you think they're cute..."

"I can't, or you don't want me to?"

"...Hmph. Why do you know so much about cute aggression, anyways? You had a whole lecture prepared. Aren't you a heart surgeon, Dr. Zayne?" You poke his chest to emphasize your point.

He captures your hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the back of it. It could be a trick of the light, but you swear that his ears are turning red. "...Finding something cute is a matter of the heart. Wouldn't you agree?"

Rafayel watches you open Tara's gift with a curious eye. You stare at the hoodie together.

Rafayel snorts. "That's a lot of hoodie."

You shrug and pull it on. As you do, you lock eyes again with Rafayel, who just stands here staring at you, a dumb look on his face.

Things snowball from there.

He keeps grabbing your face and squishing your cheeks while muttering under his breath. It's funny at first until he leans forward and nibbles on your cheek, and you realize a little too late that he'd been arguing with himself not to.

"You bit me!" It didn't really hurt, but it did shock you.

"I can't help it," he says, looking as mystified as you feel. "You just look so... biteable. Let me do it again—"

You wrestle playfully until he traps you in his arms, hugging you to his chest so tightly that you actually gasp for air. "Ugh! Rafayel, you big bully—"

"This is your fault! You've turned me into some sort of monster!"

Then, he won't let you go. He holds you against his chest and coos at you like you're a baby. He keeps trying to bite you, and you keep dodging out of the way as best you can.

"Stooop! You're embarrassing me!"

He pays you no mind. "My scrumptious cutie," he says dreamily, giggling. "My succulent pufferfish. My—"

Unable to withstand this torture any further, you yank the hoodie up and draw the strings tight to hide your face.

"Waaaait, you're running away?" he cries. "Is it because I keep squishing you?"

Your answer comes out muffled. "And biting me."

You feel him poking your sides. "Okay, I'll stop! Please come out. Please?"

After much begging and pleading on Rafayel's part, you finally relent. When you push the hood back, you see the guilty look on his face, the tips of his ears bright red. You stare at each other wordlessly for a moment.

You pat his arm in mock sympathy. "Wanna talk about it?"

He leans his head on your shoulder with a groan. "I wasn't myself."

You giggle and card your fingers through his hair. "That's how cats make me feel."

Rafayel shoots you a lighthearted glare. "Don't belittle my feelings. You're a lot cuter than a cat, you know."

Sylus didn't buy your story about the hoodie's supposed power at first, claiming you were always irresistible, so what difference could a piece of clothing make?

Now, he doesn't seem too keen on letting you go, if the hand gripping the small of your back is any indicator. His other hand is petting your hair.

You swat his hand away, but there isn't much fire behind it.

It doesn't matter, anyway. He just reaches his hand forward and pets your hair again. His movements look stiff, almost like he's restraining himself somehow.

At the look on your face, he just laughs. "Sorry, kitten, but you're just asking for it. You look..." He trails off.

You try to play off how flustered you are with a smirk. "I know. I'm dangerously cute in this hoodie."

"You're always cute, sweetie. But you're right on one front. This hoodie is dangerous."

You realize something with a start, and it's like a shock to your system. But then you seize the opportunity to try and fluster him right back. "Are you... blushing right now?"

He ignores you, opting instead to pull you in for a hug that nearly squeezes the life out of you.

"Oof—Sylus—too much—strength—"

"You can handle it," he deflects easily.

After struggling for a bit, you manage to push him back, panting. "Hah, look at you. The big, bad leader of Onychinus, done in by a simple hoodie. Tara was right."

The corners of his mouth turn downward, and you think he's going to pull away, but then he shakes his head with a scoff. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and smirks at you.

"I'm starting to think this hoodie's power is going to your head. Maybe you should take it off."

[vivwritesfics]

(She's) Off The Track

Y/N is pregnant, not allowed to race, and she's pissed about it

When the video went up on everybody's social media, the fans panicked. It was similar, eerily so, to Sebastian Vettel's retirement announcement.

But she couldn't be retiring, could she? She was only in her mid twenties and hungry for a win. There was no way she was retiring already.

She sat there in the video, a white wall behind her, and stared. For a full two and a half seconds she said nothing, but it felt so much longer. Anxious fans waited chewing on their nails as they waited to see what was going on.

To Y/N, the person in the video, it felt like she was doing one of those youtuber apology videos. Well, this was a severe and continuous lapse in her judgement, but it had ended in something wonderful.

"It's with regret that I sit here before you all to tell you that I will not be partaking in the rest of the Formula One season," she said and breathed out, like a massive weight had been lifted from her chest. "In my place Liam Lawson will be driving in the second seat of the AlphaTauri."

"We thank you all for your continuous support and look forward to seeing all of you when I return to the grid next year."

She never said why, never let the fans know why she was going to be absent from the track. The fans still saw her everywhere, though. In the paddock, cheering on her replacement, or in the background of her boyfriends streams.

"This is your fault," she said as she sat on the beanbag behind Lando, placing malteasers into her mouth. "If it weren't for you, I would still be racing."

Although she sat it, it wasn't serious. It wasn't his fault at all. Actually, she didn't want to blame this on anybody; it was a welcomed surprise.

It had been a good sixteen weeks since she last sat in a Formula One car. There one race that Y/N wasn't at, leaving all the fans speculating where she could be. And then there was a two week gap between the races.

The next race she attended, something was clearly different. Lando held her hand, staying close to her while Martin Brundle interviewed her. He walked her to the AlphaTauri garage, something he didn't normally do, and didn't leave until she was being safely escorted by Daniel Ricciardo.

But the most noticeable difference was the baby bump was she sporting.

SHE'S PREGNANT!! said everybody online. It was maybe the best kept secret of the paddock.

Even though the secret was out, Y/N and Lando still didn't address it. If any interviewer tried to ask about the pregnancy, Lando would walk her away or place himself between her and the interviewer, protective fiancé mode engaged.

When the last grand prix she was allowed to attend before she had to stop flying rolled around, Y/N spent more time than usual in front of the car that should have been hers. Her hand rested on her stomach as she looked at the number 40 car. It should have been number 69, her driver number.

"Next year," she said through a sigh as Liam approached. He offered her a smile, the kind that said he sympathised with her.

Towards the end of the season she had to stop attending. There were only two races left and Lando was predicted to be on the podium for all of them.

And he was on the podium. She was forced to watch it from their television at home. She celebrated with a glass of water and a nap.

Y/N went into labour at the start of winter break. It was lucky, actually, that Lando was home and able to rush her to the hospital. He held her hand through it all and, soon, their baby boy was crying in his arms.

Ten months went by. Y/N and Lando spent the entirety of the winter break as a family, caring for their son, introducing him to the family (the grid family and their actual families) and celebrating firsts with him. When they brought him home, when he first slept in his crib, his first trip in the car, first trip in the zoo, taking him around the marina.

Lando took pictures of it all. His jpg account was full of these pictures, as long as they didn't show their sons face.

His first introduction to the Formula one world came when he was just ten months old, at the Brazilian Grand Prix. Before Y/N and Lando left their hotel, it had been a big debate over whether he was going to be wearing a McLaren onesie or an AlphaTauri onesie (Lando had won and they walked him around in a bright orange onesie).

The grid loved meeting Emmet "Chuck" Norris (Daniel thought he was really funny with that one). Emmets favourite people were Danny and Max, who had worked together to teach him to respond to his name of Chuck.

He sat in his parents cars and that was when Y/N and Lando knew, he was going to be a racer.

[the-flaneur]

dearest darling flan would you ever consider writing for lewis 😔 i do not see nearly enough fics to justify js how attractive he is and it pains me

dont go insane (lh44)

pairing: lewis hamilton x driver!reader, platonic grid x reader

summary: when george invites some of the drivers over for a drunken presentation night, what better topic to present than your speciality? lewis' di-...outfits

warnings: suggestive mentions

wc: 1243

a/n: your wish is my command 😉 may have deviated a little bit, but dont worry i have many more fics lined up for this very attractive man

[masterlist] [request]

“ok ok everybody, thank you for joining us for the very first annual driver’s presentation night, hosted by yours truly, george russell. a connoisseur of powerpoint presentations, if i do say so myself,” george grinned.

the driver’s spare meeting room, which had been earlier crammed with spinning wheelie chairs and long white desks, had been replaced with the comfort of some old beanbags and blankets, as you, max, george, lando, oscar, charles, and alex settled in for a very long evening. as the last words left george's lips, a round of uncoordinated cheers erupted from the drunken audience. max let out an especially loud whoop before nearly faceplanting into a beanbag. 

"you're all welcome," he said with exaggerated politeness. "now then, without further ado, let's dive right into our first presentation of the evening!"

he gestured grandly towards you, nearly losing his balance in the process. "everyone, please welcome the one the only, the illustrious and femioone-feminonnena…blimey…” he cackled, tossing you the screen remote, “oh you know who it is…y/n! welcome yourself up to the stage,” 

"thank you, georgie poo. and hello everyone, i'm very very happy to be here tonight to present a special look back at the goat’s fashion choices. i would’ve rather regaled you with tales of his other…talents, but george made me promise to keep it pg, cause there are children here,” you giggled in front of all your friends, with a pointed look at lando and oscar, who seem to look mildly offended.

“obviously as the stunning wife of formula 1's golden boy himself," you continued, clicking onto the first slide, which showed you and lewis posed together for his recent dior collection, the boys hooting and hollering appreciatively, “i am the best and the only person able to give such a presentation, so make sure you’re listening,”

more applause and whistling followed as you clicked through to the first slide of lewis from the 2024 met gala, “of course, we gotta start off with a newfound lewis hamilton classic, the 2024 met gala. simple, classy, a great message and followed the theme, unlike so many others,” you rolled your eyes at the last bit, as the boys laughed.

“i can’t believe he disses my fashion sense, when his older met gala looks are questionable,” charles groans, swiping to show the group a photo pulled up on his phone. you sigh when you see lewis’ zig zag suit from 2019; definitely not camp enough for you or 2024 lewis.

“hey cut the man some slack,” alex laughs, seeing your pouting face, as you continue to click through the slides showcasing his various looks. the room continues to fill with laughter and playful jabs both at your commentary and the well-meaning yet snarky comments from the other drivers.

on the seventh slide, a photo of lewis in a see-through mesh top from the early 2021 season appeared on the screen, which definitely caught the drivers’ eyes. his chiseled features were highlighted with the bright backdrop, and the material of the shirt definitely emphasised his broad shoulders and toned physique. as well as the absolutely sinful tattoos criss-crossing his biceps, yummy…

"he looked absolutely dashing here, didn't he?" you purred, voice dripping with admiration. pausing the presentation, you let the image linger on the screen as you continued, "and trust me, he cleaned up even better in private that night..."

the room erupted in good-natured eye-rolls and chuckles at your suggestive remark. lando, never one to miss an opportunity, quipped, "well, we all knew lew was a total “stud”,"

oscar snorted, "yeah, until he decides to show up to the races in a black shirt and pants with hummingbirds on it," the others groaned in agreement, recalling lewis' infamous (amongst the drivers) outfit choice from several years prior. you laughed, unfazed by the teasing, "okay, okay, i get it. but this look right here? classic lewis - sophisticated, stylish, and undeniably sexy,” pointing once again to another showstopper lewis look.

you continued to advance the slideshow to the next image, another candid shot of you and lewis leaving a glamorous red-carpet event hand-in-hand. george leaned in to whisper something to alex, both of them grinning mischievously. 

george, still smitten with his own awaiting powerpoint prowess, decided to inject some competitiveness into the situation. "alright, let's not forget why we're really here, shall we? fashion, schmashion - who still really wants to hear more about y/n's insightful analysis of lewis's wardrobe choices?"

the room erupted in laughter, as you shot george a stern look, "hey now, my presentation is far more interesting than your mediocre slide designs, george!"

undeterred, george retorted, "oh yeah?” 

your face grew warm at the snide remark, but a spark of competitiveness ignited in your eyes. "oh, i think i can handle whatever you throw my way, george! don’t mess with the best," with a dramatic flourish, you clicked the remote to advance the slideshow featuring a collage of george's most...questionable outfits from past casual outings events. the drivers gasped in unison, their jaws dropping at the sight of george sporting everything from neon-colored blazers to patterned socks that clashed with his trousers. even the most tame of them were at least questionable to the discerning eye.

max let out a low whistle, while lando and oscar burst into uncontrollable laughter. with a sly grin, you continued, “i wouldn’t get ahead with the insult boys…george ain’t the only one who needs to pay for fashion crimes,”

"let's start with you, maxie," you sighed, pulling up one singular image on the presentation, the red bull racing suit, “unfortunately, your one fashion weakness is that you have no variety. did you know out of almost all the media pictures people get of you, it’s like a 1 in 500 to get one of you not in your suit, let alone anything fashionably interesting. you really need to convince pr to dress you in something else. how else am i supposed to critique you?" you humph.

max held up his hands in mock defense, laughing along with the others. "clearly, it was a stroke of genius."

as your merciless fashion critiques continued, the room descended into a fit of giggles and playful jabs. even george couldn't help but crack a smile, impressed by your preparations. lando shouted as you ripped his metaphorical fashion career away from him, "you know, if you're going to tear us apart like this, maybe we should just let you design our outfits from now on."

"oh, i think i've got enough on my plate with being mrs. hamilton already. besides, i have a feeling everyone might object to me dressing up the entire f1 grid in matching juicy couture tracksuits." the group erupted in laughter once more, and max raised his glass in a toast.

"to y/n, the only person in this room brave enough to call us out on our questionable fashion choices," max declared, his voice laced with humor and appreciation, "may her sharp tongue and keen eye for style forever keep us in check," the others echoed the toast, clinking their glasses together.

“but don’t worry i’ve saved an absolute treat for last,” you giggled, clicking towards the next slide, and the drivers, not for the first time tonight, were speechless.

there, plastered across the screen was a very…tasteful selection of lewis’ best pics. and the title: best clothes = no clothes.

being mrs hamilton was so much fun ;)

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy

@fadingcloudballoon @princessminjikwon @nina-or-anna-or-nora

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[spilledbeans116]

I think it’s crazy how the world works in mysterious ways

And most of those ways somehow find a way to bite me in the ass WHO IS IN CHARGE OF THIS SHIT!!!!!!