#ask Mary

[flowersformaary]

mmhr hesd hurts

doors hsiudl not be used for slamming gusy,,

[my-ocs-masterblog]

(To all the of the OCS)

What do y'all think of my new keyboard :D

I made it in facemoji :3

Cy: I like it a lot!! Very cool

Oph: I might have to download that!

Pop: Very cute!!

Dan: Hm

Mark: What is facemoji?

Mary: Cute

Clo: I like the characters

Jai: "Are we not gonna talk about the uhm-"

Pana: The what?

Jai: "The text"

Coff: No, No we are not

Jai: "Ok then.."

Pum: Is that ur friend?

[hollaback--girl]

so...

i had to do it.

[ask-the-weird-crew]

ya ever imagine an imaginary menagerie manager managing an imaginary menagerie?

Uhmmm...A what?

I'm confused

Is this supposed to be a tongue twister?

[gatoburr0]

I HATE how this turned out WITH A PASSION.

[purplelordstudios]

Mary sucks for being so rude towards Terquisa!

He deserves it, he’s so f[redacted] creepy, I mean he is getting better so maybe I’ll lighten up

-Mary

[kazoosandfannypacks]

as always, I'd love to hear your answer in the tags, especially if it's one of the "other" choices!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The girls are back (from the grave)

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[panthermouthh]

Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.

[butchgambit]

Rogue and Gambit in Episode 3's Intro of X-Men '97!

[flowersformaary]

shakes you shakes yiu shakes you explodes you

NONONONO STOP DONT EXPLODE ME!!!

[my-ocs-masterblog]

To Pumpkin: Where’s Queenie?

To Mary: How are you?

That's for me to know and for you to find out!

I'm doing well dear, thanks for asking!

[uncharted-constellations]

I... Cannot stop

[ask-the-weird-crew]

[ Daniel picks up the notebook looking at it, with Mary & Mark looking over his shoulders ]

Is this...me?

It looks amazing! Good job kid

Thank god it's not some simp art shit

[ Daniel smacks Mark in the back of the head ]

Hush

Hey!

[skulandcrossbones]

MARY POPPINS (1964)

MOVIE REC ASK GAME: 6. A MOVIE RELEASED BEFORE 1970

↳ asked by @lordblessthisjess

[fourmoony]

I HAVE THE BEST REQUEST AND IT'S PERFECT FOR JAMES! like imagine reader sitting at home and suddenly she gets a text from james to come outside and he's standing there🥲🥲🥲🥲 so she asks what he's doing there and he's like "i just wanted to kiss you" SORRY IF IT'S TOO SPECIFIC

thanks for requesting, sweetie!

f!reader 1.1k words cw: drunk jamie

You're half asleep when your phone pings, illuminating the darkness of your bedroom in a distracting glow and you're half asleep, content to ignore the single ping, a problem for tomorrow. But another one follows a moment later, the third only seconds after the second. With a huff, your hand reaches out to grab blindly for the device.

James' contact photo smiles at you from the corner of the notification box, his glasses askew and hair a mess. Your favourite photo of him, despite how vehemently he detests it. The messages are a jumble of words you struggle to make out, vowels in the wrong places and an amusing amount of emojis, even for James. A laugh huffs it way out of you as the three text bubbles appear once again, and a fourth message comes through. A photo of your house.

You'd be concerned, should anyone else have sent you the eerie looking photo of your house in utter darkness, but James is a love sick fool. You'd have to be blind not to know that about your boyfriend, even if things between you are still pretty new. He's not got a bad bone in his body. But it doesn't stop the way you sit up in a panic, scanning the floor of your bedroom for less embarrassing clothing. You come up empty, and your phone is incessantly buzzing in your hands now that James knows you've read his messages.

You use the glow of your phone to find your way downstairs, your house keys, make your way to the door and unlock it. James is sprawled out on the grass of your front garden, phone comically close to his face as he squints at the words he's typing. Drunk. Absolutely obliterated, clearly. You'll give Sirius shit for it, tomorrow, you think, as you let an exasperated laugh tumble from your lips.

James whips his head around at the noise, scrambles like a puppy to stand and bound his way over to you. He tramples some of the flowers planted around the borders of the grass and you fight a wince. He's on you in seconds, warmth radiating from him despite having been out in the cold for god knows how long. His arms are strong and steady, even though he reeks of beer, as he pulls you into them, lips firmly planted on the top of your head.

You try to peek over his shoulder for any sign of who dropped him off, but the street is empty, desolate, and you decide he must've walked from the pub.

Sleep still clings to the edges of your eyes as James pushes you back - uncoordinated and a little roughly, but you don't mind - and holds your face in his warm hands. "Hi, lovely girl." His voice is sweet and brimming with excitement at the sight of you and your heart swells.

"What on earth are you doing here, James?" You ask, though your words are kind and laced with amusement.

Your boyfriend only grins like the cat who got the cream, like he can't wait to tell you all about his adventure, until his eyes snag on your pyjamas. Technically, his pyjamas. His old juniors rugby top from secondary school and his boxer shorts, left abandoned by him last week when he'd slept in for breakfast with his mum and left in a hurry, a kiss placed to your cheek and the promise of being home for dinner. It had felt so domestic you'd had to talk yourself down from overflowing excitement for hours.

"Woah." James breathes, eyes wide.

You'd known he wouldn't mind you wearing his clothes, even if a little embarrassment at the idea had clung to your skin as you slipped them on before bed. But you hadn't expected him to feel like that about it.

"Easy tiger, you're three sheets to the wind." You chide softly, using the distraction to usher him into the hallway.

You close and lock the door behind him, place the keys in the bowl beside the door. James finds you in the darkness, hands soft against the fabric of his clothes on your body. You don't have to see him to know he's smiling that coy smile he gets whenever he seems to remember he has you.

"Am not." He mumbles, as if your statement has just now caught up with him.

You laugh, take his hand to lead him towards your bedroom. He follows quietly and without protest, but frowns when you flip on the overhead light and place him on the edge of your bed.

"What happened to Sirius' epic boys night on the town?" You ask, hands on his face as you crowd the in between of his legs.

His hands come to rest against the backs of your thighs, grip firm but soothing. He smiles, head lolling to the side, "Well," He sighs, as if buckling in for some wild tale of beasts slaughtered and mountains climbed, all just to get to you, "Sirius and Remus got drunk, like really, really drunk, and touchy and they were kissing and it made me realise how much I wanted to kiss you. So I left, and I came here for a quick kiss."

"A quick kiss?" You ask, eyebrow raised.

James just smiles, nodding dutifully, like it makes the most sense in the world. "Yeah, I gotta go back. They don't know I left."

You let out a long, suffering sigh, reaching for your phone beside James. "You can't just leave and not tell anyone where you're going."

"If they even realise I'm gone, they'll know where I am. With you." James shrugs.

"How do you reckon?"

"Where else would I be?" He asks, so serious and determined, so sure of himself that it makes your breath catch in your throat.

You can't help but smile, sweet and saccharine, glowing all over as you lean down to press your lips to James'.

"You're sweet."

James wrinkles his noise, grip tightening on your thighs as he pulls you down to him, falling backwards with a gentle thud. You catch yourself before your head collides with his nose and James grins, childish and playful, "You're sweet, too."

"Thanks, Jamie."

He presses his lips to yours, again, simple and warm. He knows he's in no condition for anything else, simply tucks you into his side and tries to get you to fall asleep with him, right there in the middle of the bed, on top of the blankets.

He's dead to the world in seconds, so you don't have much room for argument.