Like Oh My God - Tumblr Posts
5. Does blood make you uncomfortable 32. Run or Hide? 54. Do you like to cuddle?
Well, I already answered 5 here. HOWEVER--
32- Hide, probably. Then you can get a chance to strike back if you get lucky.
54- OH GOD, YES--- Especially with my favorite boy, he’s rEally nice to cuddle into~~ However, let me stop myself from being TOO gay on main, but basically; I can and will A L W A Y S go for a cuddle.
iii - the guardian
close-ups below
Are you alright with people using your art as profile pictures and what not with credit? Or is it a hands of situation
I didn't see this!!! You can absolutely use my art as a PFP!!! Please give me credit when using it, whether it be a direct link to my blog, or with my full username in your bio!
Guess who just watched SpiderVerse and is hyperventilating about these two
VISERYS & AEMOND ‘ONE-EYE’ TARGARYEN | Your king demands an answer.
Have I played baldurs gate 3? No. Do I want to? Probably. Am I absolutely and completely in love with that stupid vampire bitch Astarion? YES???
bestie just casually out here dropping absolute bangers like bro what
In the spirit of us imagining what Danny Phantom would be like if it was rebooted today, I went ahead and re-composed the theme!
Feel free to use this for anything, just credit me if you do! If you need the audio file, message me and I’ll send it to you.
The Royai Wall
(Shout-out to Tumblr for lowering the image resolution! For the non-potato quality version, head over ✨ here ✨)
This wall showcases 34 Royai fic quotes, each hand-picked by their very own authors. 34 love declarations to our OTP, 34 tokens of this fandom's talent, 34 angsty, fluffy, funny—yet all heartfelt and cherished—lines.
Wait—only 34 stories to represent the entire fandom?
Of course not!
The Royai fan base has been thriving for decades (!) and keeps welcoming new writers every day! If I could, I'd expand this wall to the size of Fort Briggs, plaster it with quotes from every Royai story ever written, and scatter a thousand rose petals all over it. But well, I nearly got shadowbanned by Tumblr for spamming reaching out to a dozen people over the past few weeks, so… 😅
I wanted to carry out this silly project because this fandom has brought me a lot of joy, and this is my way of giving back, if only a little. Reading others' works has touched me in more ways that I can describe, even pushing me to resume writing myself. So, with this collage, all I really want to say is: "thank you".
Thank you to everyone who kindly took the time to sift through their writings to share their quotes with me. But also, thank you to all the Royai writers who will stumble upon this post. Never underestimate the impact your words and work have! 💖
And yes, this piece is shamelessly inspired by the Mur des Je t'aime, located in Paris. If you ever get the chance, go check it out IRL, it's pretty cute!
Last but not least, a big shout-out to @littlewitchbee for supporting me throughout the process and for lending me her aesthetically keen eye! 🥰
Full quotes and fic recs under cut! Happy @royaiweek everyone!
Quotes & Recs
Oh, this is a different sort of fire, she thinks. Not the sort that leaps from his hands, crackles in the air and sears the inside of your throat but the sort that will burn her all the same, his hands on her hips, her back, in the wet tangles of her hair. His hands have been used so often for destruction it's a wonder they remember how to do anything else. But the same could be said of her and she holds him as though he's a loaded gun, loves as though she's expecting violence. Still, he takes the time to remind her that death is not the only thing they've ever known. They grip each other tightly and with every touch he shows her that not all forms of love will leave her with scars.
adopt a brand new language by @roseofbattles
Out of breath, out of his mind, [Roy] laughed again, his voice wavering, leaning his forehead against hers. "It's the saddest first kiss I've ever had." He laughed — a high pitched, ugly laugh. "You're hysterical, sir." Riza sighed."Roy." "Oh, if I wasn't already, this would for sure make me so," he chuckled.
All the hope that I lost, you have found by @scienceoftheidiot
The last time Riza had yelled at him was when he showed up to save her and Fuery from being a late-night snack for Gluttony… and he had a distinct impression that he was in for something similar. It was so much worse when there was a rustle as she set the paper aside. Cool fingers gently gripped his chin, turning his face in her direction. His eyes opened instinctively, though everything remained dark. Her voice, when she spoke, was low and quiet, but with a biting edge of command he wasn’t used to hearing. “Do better.”
Communiqué by @writing-royza
“Marry me, Riza Hawkeye.” Not an order. A question. A plea. “You have been my conscience, my eyes, and my longest friend. Be my First Lady. And when my term is up, just be my wife.”
The Counteroffer by @the-blue-eyed-firebender
And in the cold dying of the damp around him Roy raised his right hand and snapped once, twice, three times. He struggled to draw the spark out of his core. Suddenly he thought of Riza - Riza meeting his eyes, Riza at home, Riza on the battlefield. Riza who would be wondering what had been taking him so long. And it sparked from his hands, flame, fire in the darkness of that carefully constructed hole in his chest, sparks from the dark of the depths of his heart. Heavy and heady, clear and careful. Light.
Flowers: In December by loftyskies
Time stopped for the second time in 30 seconds because, as if he could feel her gaze on him, his dark eyes snapped up to meet hers. She could hear her pulse in her ears as the heat of his gaze paralyzed her, his previously neutral expression slowly transitioning into a devilish smirk as he kept eye contact with her. The look in his eyes perfectly matched her intentions. She grinned back at him before turning her attention back to Rebecca.
forever is the sweetest con by @steviesays
Losing Riza Hawkeye to Bradley felt like having his right arm cut off. No — not permanently, not like Fullmetal. Roy’s figurative (although these days, it felt much more literal) right hand was just temporarily incapacitated, because come the Promised Day, Roy was going to win her back.
For the Left Hand Only by @wellbehaveddolphin
A whoosh of air, and a hand roughly grabs her chin. She steels herself as nails dig into her skin and pain roars up in her gums, and she swallows back blood. Air is suddenly hot on her nose, breathing loud and hard as a knee or elbow jabs her side and she sucks in air, muffling a gasp. With a swift motion, her neck is jerked to the side and an ache twinges her muscles. “Well, Colonel?” Oh, she’s selfishly relieved that she cannot see the face of him. She can only imagine what might be washing over his face, fear and grief and blame as angry hands cup her cheeks and threaten violence. How the dark eyed man must twist with confusion and care and responsibility for their state, though Hawkeye knows it cannot all be dumped on him, because this secret is a weight they both bare. She does not want him to spill to spare her. She breathes, and fingers curl around her skin. Mustang heaves a tired, pained breath.
From the Serpent's Mouth by @justanotherinterneruser
"God forbid I'm ever exposed as a pathetic, needy soul," he continues. "A man who spent the evening looking forward to seeing the woman he already shares almost every waking moment with." […] Roy nods, his eyes shuttering closed, as if savoring their ephemeral proximity. The warmth of his presence washes over Riza's cheeks. She could just tilt her head and press her lips to his face. Any, every part of it—along the curve of his jaw, upon his cheek, or daringly on his lips. If only she could summon the courage… It is disarming, to be so fearful, when he is so bold.
God Forbid by @aicasey
But as she made her way to the car, sliding into the passenger seat, Riza realized that at the end of the day, there might not be a line anymore. One of them could die; both of them could die. What was the point of a line in the sand when there was no ground beneath your feet? If she was already falling, what did she have to lose?
i know i've only felt religion when i've lied with you by @queen-isabelle-writes
He looked handsome in his tux, opting not to wear his uniform for this occasion. It made him strangely boyish without the medals and stars. He had grown to be a man she could be proud of. A great man. One that she knew his parents would have been proud of. Still, as she looked at him now, she remembered the terrified little boy she sent to school for the first time, the quietly nervous boy she sent off to learn alchemy, and the idealistic boy who went off to war only to return a broken man. That broken man didn’t let his spirit die. He fought his way up the ranks to change his country and to protect the people he loved. She was so proud. He still had aways to go but she knew he would make it. That woman he would have by his side would be his strength. They all believed in Roy Mustang, but he believed in Riza Hawkeye, soon-to-be Mustang.
I'll always see the boy in the man you've become by @waddiwitch
“I know it’s just a story, and we were making up a story, too. But there are truths to be found in it all. In our story, I love you, even if that isn’t who we are. In our real life, I love you too. It can all be true.”
in the lost myth of true love by @chryseis
She heard he’d been out with a few girls over the past week. He probably didn’t realize he was rubbing salt in the wound, or maybe he did. Maybe he wanted to make her upset and mad. Kick him out, like she should, into the cold night to walk home alone licking his wounds. She should do that. She should be mad at him. She was mad… but not mad enough. And she didn’t think she could ever find it in herself to be that mad at him. Which was the worst thing.
Is It Over Now? by @dearreader
Riza laughed, and then swallowed nervously. "I'm tired of waking up alone after my nightmares, and having to wonder all night if you really made it out alive from the tunnels. I can't stand seeing you go through the same thing without being able to comfort you. I can't– I can't do it anymore, Roy."
The King's counselor by @qs63
“ … Roy?” her hand flew to her mouth, as her other one worked to undo the bow of her cooking apron, “ You are home!” he walked over to her, got the apron off, then cupped her head his thump creasing her jawline softly, “ I am home.” He kissed her as if his life depended on it, and she kissed back as if she would die of fear if she didn't, her tender hands immediately landed on his dryer rougher hands.
My heart will go on. by @awesomedurraworld
“I like your dream. I think it’s beautiful. It’s ambitious, though, and you’ll need help.” Roy raised his head as she spoke. “Let me be part of this dream. Let me carry my own part, let me atone for my own crimes beside you. This time, let me watch over you to make sure that you won’t stray away, that you’ll keep your promise.”
a nation we now get to build by @musing-and-music
It was like looking at two pictures laid over each other: the young man she’d met at her father’s house, and the alchemist who caused such destruction in the field. Feelings she’d never quite let solidify were hardening like fat cooling on the surface of a pan. Greasy, unattractive feelings, like betrayal. Bitterness. Like the understanding that he’d deceived her, and had given her hope in a future that not only couldn’t exist, but that he had worked against with the power she had given him. There, she saw a monster hiding in human skin. But one that she’d helped create.
Order 3066 by @dairogo
He wants to walk these hills, through the tall grasses and impossibly tall sunflowers forever. He wants to hide away in a remote cabin and not think about work for a week, trek through freshly fallen and sparkling snow. He wants to have countless late nights pouring over records and plans, breaking down economic reports and charts, maps and ledgers. He wants to hold her hand and kiss every knuckle and her palms. He wants to take her out to dinner or dancing. He wants to never let her go as he kisses her scars and her lips again and again and again. Life without her was possible, but now he could see it all in focus with her. Life had hope with her in it. It made life all the more worth living. He was better with her.
Painted in Gold by @aurifulgore
I remember when we met that girl together, I’ll always recall that day. She stood in stark contrast to her father: Bright, young eyes beside a sunken and sallow face. Her hair was lit like wheat beneath the sun, her eyes held something in them that was akin to a blaze but not quite there. What was inside her was much softer than what was inside you. She had something more rounded, something less bitter. You chased it. You put your feet in those ringlets and your hands grappled with crevices and you tried, you really did. But you could never quite get to where she was.
pyrokinesis by @royai
But this. This. This is a bullet fired from a gun she knew was there but never saw. It rips through her and derails any other thoughts even as she scrambles for a foothold. The firelight dancing on his skin. The tendons of his fingers as they wrap around the bottle. The way he sucks on his top lip after he drinks something. This will kill her, and she will thank it as she dies.
Pyrolysis by raisingmybanner
Riza's heart flutters frantically against the cage of her ribs. It must know that its other half is close, calling it home. She loves him, of course she does. She's known him more than half her life, loved him just as long. It's a simple truth. The sun rises and sets. The sky is blue. Everything within her loves everything within him.
Some Day Our Ocean Will Find Its Shore by @littlewitchbee
He has his whole life ahead of him, time enough to save the world from itself and to live out his goals. Time enough to fetch Riza Hawkeye from that empty house out West and make her his wife. Time enough to spend his whole life loving her. The very thought fills him with an indescribable joy, like an effervescent numbness surrounding him, embracing him. Now she suddenly stands before him—the radiant beauty of the setting sun—she blinds him, and he can barely see. He can almost feel her hands on his, her kiss on his forehead, and a few whispered words in his ears—I love you, Roy Mustang—as the future stretches into a golden haze before him—on and onward and out of sight.
Some Other Beginning's End by @beware-thegemini
“Playing house?” he roars, and she wants to curl into a ball. Because she’s heard this tone of voice from him—it’s that temper of his, that horrible, maddening, flame alchemy anger, the same ugliness her father used to unleash upon her. But Roy has always spared her. Until now. “Is that what this is to you, Riza?” he questions, face pinched with fury, even though she can see the anguish cowering behind it. “A fucking game?” “Of course not—” she starts, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks, but she can hardly get a word in. “I’m not playing house,” he spits bitterly. “I love you. I’m in love with you, and I have been since I was sixteen-goddamn-years-old. It’s fucking intrinsic. Can you say the same?”
Starve the Ego, Feed the Soul by @onthearrow
(Another message in a bottle, going with the currents. I want to, Roy. To be happy. To be with you. ) — In the evenings the sky is spotless, stippled with stars. She lays on the creek to numb the ache in her back; watching the moon and the great ringed globe she can identify as Saturn and all the little, twinkling flecks of light dancing around them. Stars – they’re so beautiful. We’re all made of stardust , Roy had told her once. The elements in us were first formed in stars. And it’s a lovely sentiment, that she could possibly be something more than the guardian of a legacy she doesn’t want. That she could be beautiful. That she could be lovely and lovable and loved – things she’s only ever really found in him.
sweet tea in the summer / cross your heart, won't tell no other by @firewoodfigs
She can’t remember the last time she laughed like this. Or smiled like this. “Be free, Riza,” Roy crows, laughing with her. “I feel free,” she giggles. There’s a hint of hesitancy to her still, but she grins at him happily. “Don’t worry about the wind dropping,” Roy tells her. There’s determination in his eyes, along with wicked delight. “I’ll catch you if you fall, Riza.” She has no plans to fall. Although she relaxes and gives into the exhilaration of the experience, she still anticipates the drop of wind, wondering when it will come. But knowing Roy is dependable at her side, ready to catch her if she were to fall, it allows Riza to relax and enjoy the experience completely. She trusts him with her life. And it makes all the difference in the world.
there's something i've been meaning to say to you by @fullmetalscullyy
Morning will come eventually, and Riza will have to return to her own bed to avoid the scrutiny of the nurses, but for now he can hold her, and she can whisper words against his skin. For a few moments they can forget the night terrors that recall images of Riza's slit throat or the swords driven through Roy's palms. In this stolen time, in this liminal space, the world narrows to where their bodies tangle together on the too-small hospital cot. There is temptation to pretend that they are a normal couple with simple lives, but there is something beautiful in the truth, too. That they are two broken people finding solace in each other the way that only broken people can, kissing each other clean, making themselves whole again.
Through Hell by @rizaposting
“Losing you has been… I haven’t been myself, Lieutenant. The work, I can keep up with. I can defend myself if I ever get into trouble. But not being around you, not knowing how you are… and now, this. Under close surveillance by two homunculi, like you said.” Riza opens her mouth to stop him, but Roy speaks over her, “I know what you’re going to say. I know this is a great risk, but they already knew how to get to me, and this will not change anything. I have nothing left to lose without you.”
A way of keeping you by @by-nina
“That man neglected you, and scarred you, and demanded that you shoulder his legacy,” Roy continued. “Forced his burden onto you, and made you bear the guilt that never should have touched your hands!” He looked down at his own hands, which were now clutching his knees, and finished, in the softest voice that Riza had ever heard from him, “Please don’t ask me to forgive the man who hurt my love so terribly.” In the years preceding her father’s death, she had become strangely grateful that he had turned into such a recluse. Berthold Hawkeye had been a bomb, primed to destroy without any forewarning; Riza had known that she alone would absorb his pain, and had found comfort in that isolation, in knowing that no one else would suffer as she had. Here was Roy, proof of just how wrong she had been, all thanks to the love that he bore in his heart for her.
what will you leave behind? by @klainelynch
Something has shifted between them. Something in the fear, the healing, a memory of first morning’s light in a hospital room. “I love you,” he says, a whisper in the quiet. “I always have.” She hisses in a breath, heartbeat in her throat, fire in her stomach. It’s nothing she didn’t know already, yet it’s never been put to words before. It’s the confession she’s dreamed of, literally dreamed of, the words lying just beneath the surface of their interactions since they had first started working together. Every small reassurance, every anticipated move, saving each other again and again and again, intertwined in flesh and flame.
When skies are grey by @baudleaires
“i don’t know if—” he hesitates again. “i don’t know if i’m in love with you. and i don’t know if i want the things that come with that sometimes. but… i know. i know that i love you.” the words come out strangled, and he makes a face like he can’t believe he said that out loud, but he doesn’t take it back. she sighs. it feels a little something like relief. “i think that’s how i feel too.” actually, she knows that’s how she feels. she has always loved him; she’s never known if that meant she was in love with him. maybe… committing to a life together could be something else. something just as strong. “i think if we got married tomorrow, no one would be surprised.”
with or without by @patron-saints
He can't see her so he has to make use of his other senses, namely touch. The throbbing of Mustang's wounds echo a counterpoint against her pulse, a music created from war. His palm aches from being in this position so long, cradling her wrist, his wounds stretching uncomfortably, but he won't let go. He's been sitting in this chair by her bed, holding gently onto her wrist since she was brought in after her surgery. Twice he's been told by nurses to get back in bed, and twice he's refused. He won't leave her side, terrified if he does that he'll lose her in the darkness forever.
you're all that matters to me anyway by @quiet-nocturne
Riza stares back at him, and he thinks, not for the first time, that her guns are not the only weapons she could kill him with. There’s an opportunity here, to make a first impression for the second time. For years, he’s mentally rewound the time to go back to when they’d lived together when they were young, wishing he could make different choices. Pack her things in a suitcase, grab her by the hand and take her away from that fucking house of her father’s. Never enlist, buy three dogs, and watch her give them terrible names. Go down on one knee, eventually.
Your hands, holding me up by @lassusog
She remembered sitting at the kitchen table doing homework in the evenings, watching him emerge from her father’s study after a long day of work (to this day, she didn’t know exactly what it was they did all day, and a part of her never wanted to know). He’d be covered in soot and sweat, his hands stained with ink. His hair would be mused, and he’d have a certain look in his eye—pride mixed with something fiery and fierce, a determination that never dwindled. It was a look she still saw in him, a less naive iteration of the same unassailable emotion.
Upcoming @royaibigbang fic by @koussevitzky
It's difficult, playing chess. It doesn't come naturally to her, no matter how much Mr. Mustang may spend explaining the rules to her. He puts her in checkmate every time. And he doesn't even smile when he wins, finding it all too easy of a victory. There's a fire in Riza's heart, for the briefest moment, that threatens to spread through the rest of her body. It's on the tip of her tongue, and she almost spits the words when he corners her king again: What I wouldn't give to hunt you, Mr. Mustang. But she doesn't say it, of course. Not because it's a strange thing to say, but because it's too honest.
Upcoming @royaibigbang fic by @limetameta
Ya'lll If U Gusy Know Any Sub! Enrico Puccci X Male! Or GN! Reader PLEASE HIT ME UP I BEG.
ALSO, for Tumblr too, if ur talking about them strictly PLATONICALY don't tag them
If you love to talk about one sided bartylus,where THERE IS NO BARTYLUS and it's just Barty being miserable for your other ship,could you please not tag bartylus?Like why is it so hard to just skip the damn tag and stop ruining people mood?
call me problematic but the death eaters will always be the more compelling characters to me specifically BECAUSE they exist in a narrative with such rigid black/white morality; because they are considered evil as fact; because they are punished as individuals for the way a system made them; because they are offered no avenues for redemption!
every glimpse of humanity & personhood from one of the cartoonishly-evil disposable background villains (bella’s petnames for her sister, peter’s friendship with james, barty’s skill as a teacher, the carrows’ love for each other, regulus’s note) automatically carries INFINITELY more weight than any dramatic gryffindorish act of heroism BECAUSE it comes shining out from a vacuum. lock me up!!! you should be feeling empathy for them!! do you see how humanity becomes more textured when applied to characters that we, as readers, are meant to disregard as monsters. should i call mary shelley
ngl this is what I though when I saw the movie lol
I am losing it
Hi sweet cheezers! 😍
hi cheezers!
Every time I rewatch episodes of camp camp I always find myself going to “Cameron Campbell the Camp Campbell Camper”. The episode where he dressed up as a kid to try and get David to lie and say all the messed up shit was his fault.
Anyway I think it has some of the most interesting moments. One of my favorites is Mr Campbell saying he wants to go hang out with Max and Neil and David, instead of encouraging it or getting excited at the prospect of giving Max new friends, he warns the guy and tells him he doesn’t think they’re first day friend material. That they’re a little much for a new kid. That’s INTERESTING. That’s a level of awareness I feel like sometimes people miss that David has.
Then it also has one of the most heart touching moments of the show (to me) which is solidly tied between the end of parents day, the last episode of season 4 I think it is where David gives Max the camera, and this episode. Specifically the moment where Mr Campbell accuses David, appalled, tells him that after all he’s done for David, David’s choosing a bunch of awful kids over him and in response David tells him “But that’s the job. You really don’t get that do you?” And then when asked by Max if he’s pissed off, he tells him no and that he’s just disappointed.
Like there’s something about that that means SO MUCH TO ME. I love that David is portrayed as this never ending happy guy but I LOVE LOVE LOVE when they show this maturity to him. When they show that he’s built for this job because he understands working with kids. He honestly knows what he signed up for, how kids work, and he’s genuinely prepared to deal with it and to forgive them because they’re KIDS.
His job is to take care of these kids over all else. He’s going to do his job and he WANTS to do it. He wants to be a good place for them.
I have a tiktok, btw. Here's a meme.
so if it wasn’t obvious i’ve had hannibal brainrot lately. Take some paintings from this month