#thanks angie!

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Hello!! I'm very curious about two of them, the two firsts of your list actually: Lattice and Don't Turn Around? … if you don'tmind me asking for two of them! 👀

Hi Angie!! Of course I don't mind you asking about two of them! I'm happy that you're intrigued!!

Both of these are actually responses to a prompt list that I posted a few nights ago, and since they're the only ones I got, they're going to be longer than quick drabbles.

Lattice corresponds with your request for "ruffling the other's hair" + Ezra, and I decided that it's going to take place in the Point of No Return universe, featuring Ezra and Cee. (and cats.) I'm going back and forth between Lattice and Trellis as the title, but a hint? They're working on a surprise for Clara. ;)

Don't Turn Around corresponds to the request I got from @something-tofightfor for "hugging the other from behind" + PATS which is going to fit into the Long Con universe that I started for that character. This one is going to be a very vulnerable moment for that pair of grifters, lemme tell ya.

[meiquimesuei]

Don't forget to stop by at the Heisen Mech for car repairs and parts! And meet a hottie there, too.

[lousysharkbutt]

Hat Swap 3: Return of the Hat Swap

[kolbalissh]

always arguing with a man with big brown eyes whatever u say beautiful (carcar in a nutshell)

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Can we see angy kitty (Gangle) :3?

I gotchu fam (Jax was being his usual self lmfao)

Putting Gangle next to Z makes Z look like they could fit inside the manor, until you realize just how tall Gangle is compared to Pomni, Caine, Ragatha and Jax lmfao

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

back off!!!

[izuizzy]

Izyy. I've just got a question I have to ask.

What would sonic and Shadow's reaction be seeing Vanitas?

(You make me freak over Vanitas by the way lol.)

oh…. well…. it’d probably end up like this… hehe

[darlingsart]

Concept: Achilles wearing this

They’ve only been married for like. 5 minutes lmao

[angiemcmahonmusic]

I asked people to let go of their video memories, they sent them to my Tumblr inbox and this is what we've made. Thank you to everyone who submitted footage for this video and for letting go 🫶 @music

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Hello! ✨

Do you feel like trying "ruffling the other's hair" for Joel or Ezra? It doesn't have to be with a reader character if the inspiration says so.

I hope it'll help and that you'll feel better soon! 💙

Hi Angie! ✨

I know you sent this to me weeks ago, but it finally came to life. Thank you so much for sending it. I will never pass up a chance to write for PONR Ezra, so I hope you enjoy this little peek at what's going on at the farm :)

Taking Root

[shizunitis]

New pfp is cool you can have a doodle 👍

BINGYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY MY TWINNNNNNN

[alchemisticramblings]

chess tips from your local five hundred year old man

[austajunk]

Nagito and Angie hanging out platonically as friends?

Pals who pray together save Hope together!

Also TheAmityElf!!! Hiiiii, you legend, you! Thanks for the inspiration to silly doodle!

[taohs]

Mikasa ☆ Ackerman

Mikasa coloring request for @okkottsus ♡

[causticflower]

bite |?| no bite

Day 4: Vampire/In Disguise

[xxlady-lunaxx]

obanai and the thing about him hating praise towards his scar+obamitsu

obanai sat, hands fidgeting on his lap. his bandages rested on his shoulders where kaburamaru was usually perched—the snake was curled on his arm now, diligently watching. somehow, it felt like obanai had been stripped naked. the cool air against his entire face, the lack of restriction when he moved his jaw, it felt unnatural, almost. he might as well be more comfortable without clothes than without his mask. he wished mitsuri would speak. but they’d been sitting in silence for a while and, though he could feel her gaze on him, he couldn’t discern it. finally, after what felt like forever, he forced his eyes to flick back up.

mitsuri was sitting still, hands curled on her knees. her expression was one obanai hadn’t seen on her before, but pretty nonetheless. except he couldn’t find it in himself to appreciate it now. not when his entire being seemed formed of anxiety and he was barely containing himself from squirming. it was all he could do to not jump up and run far, far away. but he was trying. he wanted to stay. for mitsuri.

noticing his attention, mitsuri composed herself. her brows were furrowed, but they relaxed slightly as she smiled at him. her cheeks were their natural rosy pink, and they puffed up with her effort to say something. in a way, she was just as worried as obanai. anyone could tell it was a touchy subject.

after a moment, she mustered up the courage to move closer to him. abandoning the comfortableness of the cushion she’d been sitting on to sit directly in front of obanai. with a quick affirmation, her hands slipped under his hair, cupping his cheeks. her thumbs traced the edges of his scar, sending a shiver down his spine.

“iguro-san…” she whispered. despite the softness of his name on her tongue, it cut through the silence. obanai jolted, more surprised by her speaking than her touch.

“y-yes?” he asked, straightening. he felt like he was being called out. her fingers burned against him where skin met scar. he wished she wouldn’t touch it. as if, by doing so, the filthiness of it all would transfer to her like a disease. he felt guilty, even. allowing her to do this. allowing her to act so caring to someone who didn’t deserve any bit of it.

mitsuri’s eyebrows dipped down again, her expression a mellowed bittersweet. she let her hands fall, resting them on top of obanai’s. she squeezed gently, her skin soft as her fingers soothed him. “you shouldn’t have to hide this… you’re… very pretty, iguro-san,” she murmured. her voice was oh, so quiet. and, for the first time in his life, obanai hated it. not her voice, itself. but it was wrong. her mouth forming those words. here, now. with her gaze tracing the years filled of agony on his face.

unable to help it, obanai jerked away. he slipped off his cushion, nearly tumbling down. he managed to settle on the floor, the pillow a distance between them. his fingers knotted into the fabric of his pants. there was a sharp, belated gasp, sounding sweet despite everything. obanai couldn’t find it in himself to apologize. instead, he choked out a shaky, “i’m… not… pretty. it’s not pretty.”

“i… iguro-san,” mitsuri tried. but today was a day for firsts. so obanai interrupted her.

“what happened to me wasn’t pretty. none of it was pretty.” obanai’s throat felt hoarse, his words gravelly.

mitsuri stumbled. she hesitated. then, tentatively: “i didn’t mean…”

obanai shook his head. his hair rustled. his bandages slipped. kaburamaru was suddenly on guard. he hissed, but obanai was quick to coax him away. petting the snake gently, vaguely comforted as he soothed his friend.

“iguro-san… i’m sorry… i meant”—mitsuri looked down, her action only visible from the way her braids shifted. obanai was avoiding looking at her—“i meant that nothing could… get in the way of you being perfect.”

the words tasted bitter in the air. “i’m not perfect, either, kanroji.” obanai spoke flatly. he couldn’t understand what mitsuri couldn’t comprehend. but he felt almost sorry for her. that he was nothing she wished he was. he was far from perfect.

“you are,” mitsuri insisted. before obanai could interject, she added, “perfection doesn’t have a solid definition. some people think ‘perfect’ means their ideal person. some people think it doesn’t exist. but i think that what makes a person perfect is that they’re them. it can come in so many varieties. and you’re one of them, iguro-san. i’m sorry i came off as… insensitive, earlier. but this is what i meant.”

finally, obanai looked up. he was gaping, he knew. a flicker of amusement passed by mitsuri’s eyes. she must enjoy playing games of pretend. it took obanai several moments to speak. because he almost wanted to believe it. but he knew, as a fact, that she was only amusing herself. amusing both of them.

“you’re wrong,” he said. he pushed enough confidence into his words, allowing them to taste strong as they rolled passed his lips. “i wish- i’m sure we both wish. that what you said was true. but it’s not. if you knew- if you’d seen… you would realize. you’d agree with me.”

only a beat of silence, this time. mitsuri was indignant. “perfect people don’t have to do everything right, all the time, iguro-san. we’ve all done stuff we regret. we’ve all done bad things before,” she said firmly. she looked like she wanted to move closer but was holding herself back for his sake. he let himself appreciate it.

“that’s not it. it’s different. it’s more than just something i did.” obanai returned to staring at the ground. his fingers itched to rewrap his bandages. “it’s worse.”

“it couldn’t be,” mitsuri said quietly. “if you didn’t even do it, then—“

“you just- you don’t get it!” obanai snapped, abruptly. his head jerked back up so he could look at her. his fingernails dug into the palms of his hand. “you wouldn’t understand! just- just stop! stop trying to pretend that i can be a better person, when it’s written in my god damn blood that i can’t! you’re just- you’re the perfect one, okay? i can’t compete! i don’t want to! so stop acting like i ever could!”

mitsuri was stunned, her eyes wide. but her surprise seemed purely on his outburst, shying away from his words. why wouldn’t she just let it go? accept that he could never be anything good? he hadn’t anticipated this when he’d worked up the idiocy to show her his scar. he’d almost hoped she’d be scared away. or, at the very least, finally see his flaws. realize he isn’t as great as she thinks he is. and yet all she can muster to understand is that none of it is a good memory.

when the silence stretched on, obanai’s shoulders slumped. he hated that she refused to see it. but he hated himself equally, if not more, for pushing it all onto mitsuri. as if he wanted her to carry his own burden. this was all so stupid. he never should’ve done this.

he turned away, making a quick work with retying his bandages, the movements precise and practiced. when he spoke this time, his voice was considerably quieter. almost meek. “please, kanroji,” he mumbled. “i’m sorry. please forget any of this happened.”

then he stood. he heard her calling out, maybe following him too, but he forced the temptation of her voice away. replacing it with the shock on her face instead. allowing his guilt to guide him out and away. kaburamaru moved back to his usual place as obanai rushed home. but this was how it should be. kaburamaru on his shoulders, his bandages wrapped tightly around his jaw. tucking away and repressing everything that shouldn’t be shown. the only evidence of his visit was mitsuri, who was left standing by the doorway. he could only hope she’d heed his advice and forget what had happened. it was only for the best, after all.