Waillen

18, she/her, in love with my bugaboo

[stealingpotatoes]

The way you really don’t want to go to space is giving extreme Ryland Grace vibes lmao. Maybe. Maybe avoid any stern German redheads. Just to be safe.

german redheads please i'm not even good at science and my glasses don't fall off my face nonchalantly enough please do not send me to space

[yawnzshit]

glasses are the sluttiest thing a man can wear.

[redwinelewis]

THE LOVE THING | R. GRACE

type one shot (no part 2 requests please!)

pairing ryland grace x crewmate!reader

summary after watching notting hill, rocky has come up with a conclusion that you and ryland should "mate", since you both are single.

content no smut. fluff. rocky being a matchmaker.

a/n based on this request. i don't take requests at all actually but an anon sent me that and i love the idea so much i just had to write it!! also i got lazy toward the end i'm sorry 🧍🏽‍♀️also i haven't rewatched notting hill in a hot minute so pls forgive the innacuracy i don't remember anything from the film shshshs. english is not my first language

masterlist | read on ao3

a long time ago in a galaxy far, far awa—

whoops. okay, wrong movie.

actually, it had started with a spilled orange juice in notting hill.

you sat squeezed on the railings between ryland grace and rocky the eridian under the dim glow of the projector screen. the three of you had turned the room into a makeshift cinema for another round of “earth's cultural immersion night” as ryland called it. tonight’s feature: notting hill. ryland's all-time favorite.

but here's the thing: the film had not even been halfway when you realized that ryland was not watching it like a normal person.

to be fair, he had warned you and rocky beforehand that he might get emotional, but you hadn’t expected full-on waterworks.

“wait, wait— this bit,” he whispered urgently, grabbing your arm while pointing at the projector, his temple touching yours. “this is one of the best scenes in cinema.”

“ryland, we're still on the opening credits.”

then, the second julia roberts appeared on screen, he went still. like completely frozen you weren't sure if he was even breathing. then he made a sound. something between a gasp and a sob that tried and failed to stay inside his body.

“oh my god,” he whispered. “that’s her. that’s her.”

you blinked, eyebrows meeting in a knot. “you mean julia roberts?”

he didn’t even look at you. “she’s incredible. do you— do you see her? she’s perfect. julia roberts is objectively—”

by the time ryland moved his eyes from the screen and saw you raising your eyebrows, he stammered. “i— i mean— look, i’m just saying science should study her face.”

you chuckled, more entertained watching ryland's reaction than the film itself. you have always thought of him as the 2001, singin' in the rain type of guy. not notting hill. but you were not complaining.

that was one among many things. the other was when ryland hit pause approximately every six minutes to provide unsolicited facts about the film.

“that’s the real travel bookshop in london.”

pause.

“that line was improvised.”

pause.

“fun fact: hugh grant stammered because—”

pause.

“did you know—”

pause.

“ryland,” you said, nails digging into the outer layer of the popcorn bowl.

“yes?”

“if you pause the film one more time i’m ejecting you into space.”

he actually looked genuinely offended.

by the time julia roberts delivered the iconic line “i'm also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her”, ryland was openly crying. not just quiet sniffles but full, shoulder-shaking, nose-running tears. he kept wiping his face with the back of his hand, muttering “it's just allergies” while you handed him another tissue and rubbed his back.

in the meantime, rocky watched the whole meltdown with polite confusion, he made some noises that you have rendered as thoughtful hums.

the movie ended. credits played. ryland blew his nose one last time and sighed, all watery and content. "best rom-com ever made. nothing can beat it."

rocky was still seemingly staring toward the screen, then toward ryland, then toward you before his voice came through the translator.

“why male human make many mistakes, question?”

“because he’s british,” ryland muttered quickly.

you laughed.

rocky however, had accepted this as a scientific fact.

the lights had come back, fully lit. the ship humming around you. and rocky was in full interrogation mode.

"why grace face leak water during movie, question? is broken, question? or is this the love thing, question?"

ryland laughed wetly. "it's emotion, rock. humans cry when stuff hits hard. happy cry, sad cry, whatever. that ending…. gets me every time."

"rocky amaze," rocky said, though he sounded more puzzled. “rocky have many question. is okay, question?”

“yeah, buddy. sure, what are they?” you answered.

“why human female cry at end, question? she get male. happy ending. no death. why tears, question?”

ryland laughed again, still dabbing at his eyes. “because it’s beautiful, rocky. it’s about love winning against all odds. the vulnerability, the grand gesture—”

“grand gesture inefficient,” rocky interrupted. “human male could state intention clearly at beginning. save many minute of film. also, why all humans speak so fast, question? rocky understand only sixty-three percent of dialogue.”

you bit your lip to keep from laughing. ryland shot you a mock-offended look, but his puffy eyes ruined the effect.

he looked adorable like this, you thought.

rocky wasn’t done. “conclusion: human love is voluntary madness, question?”

“that is honestly one of the best definitions i’ve heard,” you said, nodding to no one in particular.

“thank.” rocky clicked happily. you grinned.

ryland leaned forward, still emotional. “human love is…. it’s…. it’s everything, rocky. it’s wanting to be with someone, protect them, make them laugh, share your life. it’s scary and messy and the best thing in the universe.”

rocky’s claws tapped thoughtfully against his carapace. “rocky understand. similar to eridian bonding. rocky miss adrian. adrian very good mate. strong claws. excellent at solving differential equations under pressure. adrian once fix life support during solar flare with only three limbs. very impressive.”

ryland nodded solemnly, still wiping his nose. “sounds like a keeper.”

“yes,” rocky agreed. “adrian best. rocky and adrian mate for life. very efficient. just chemical compatibility test and immediate lifelong commitment. much better than human method.”

you chuckled. the contrast between the romantic movie and rocky’s brutal take on human relationships was incredible.

“human female chose grace-movie-human because emotional resonance stronger than status hierarchy, statement.” rocky added.

“hugh grant,” ryland corrected.

“yes. grace-movie-human hugh grant.”

“that's not even—”

rocky went on, ignoring him, “humans perform strange mating rituals. walking in park. staring at each other during rain.”

“it’s a romance film, rocky. it exaggerates.” you said.

“incorrect.”

you frowned. “what?"

“i observe same behavior between you and grace.”

silence.

you blinked. ryland froze. you and ryland glanced toward each other, purely instincts, before quickly turning your heads away.

ryland opened his mouth, then closed it again. “what— what are you talking about, bud?"

rocky turned his head fully toward you and ryland. “rocky observe! both you and grace single. no mate. no offspring planned. wasteful. better to have partner for support.”

your throat suddenly went dry. “uh, rocky—”

“logical solution obvious,” rocky continued, completely serious. “you and grace should mate. immediate. grace cry at romantic film, has strong reproductive drive and emotional capacity. you laugh at grace crying, shows good humor compatibility. both breathe same air, tolerate same gravity. perfect match. rocky approve.”

your face went hot. ryland’s mouth opened and closed like a fish.

“rocky, buddy, that’s not how it works—” ryland started, voice cracking with leftover tears and sudden panic.

“why not, question?” rocky asked, genuinely confused. “human film show this. two lonely human. one grand gesture. mating happen. happy ending. rocky can help with grand gesture. rocky very good at engineering. can build large sign. or small explosive for dramatic effect.”

before you could say anything more, rocky lifted one claw.

“rocky have evidence for human love. evidence one: you save last black human drink for grace.”

“you meant coffee—?”

rocky interrupted you by lifting another claw.

“evidence two: grace give you extra dessert ration pretending accidental.”

“i mean— she loves pudding—”

third claw.

“evidence three: you touch each other many unnecessary times.”

your face went warm. ryland choked.

“we do not—”

rocky cut you off yet again. “correction. grace touch shoulder. arm. back. hair always.”

ryland made a strangled sound. “you remember that?”

“i remember everything, statement.”

“it wasn't even—”

rocky kept going.

“evidence four: when you sleep in command module during bad radiation storm, grace watch you breathe for thirty-seven minutes.”

ryland whipped around. “rocky!”

you turned to ryland almost immediately, faster than the speed of light.

“you watched me sleep?!”

his ears turned pink.

“i— i was checking if you were dead!”

your mouth fell open for a minute. “honestly i don't know if that's sweet or borderline edward cullen-type of creepy.”

“who is edward cullen, question?”

"nobody!” you and ryland answered at the same time.

“romantic,” rocky said as another part of his observation.

“that is not romantic!” you and ryland countered back together again.

“very romantic.” rocky said calmly. “why you two not mate, question?”

“rocky,” ryland sighed, head bobbing down while his hand rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the right word to explain.

“you can’t just…. suggest that, buddy.” he said carefully, voice cracking just a little.

“why not, question?”

“because that’s not how humans—” he stopped, rubbed his face, then muttered, “oh my god, i’m being out-argued by a space spider.”

rocky, completely serious: “i am not spider. i am rocky.”

then rocky made delighted clicking noises. "you two are alone. no mate. you watch movie together. you make grace leak water. you bring grace extra blanket when he complain about cold. you tease grace when he talk too much about science. this is like movie. you should mate."

ryland looked like he wanted to crawl into the air vent. "rocky—"

"is good plan," rocky continued cheerfully. "you do the hug thing often. you say 'good job' to each other even when not necessary. on erid this means mating time soon. very obvious. why wait, question? humans like waiting too much. inefficient."

your face burned. you tried to laugh it off but this time it came out strangled. the little alien was absolutely not going to let this go. you never seen this kind of determination from rocky before, unless it was about the mission.

"rocky, buddy," ryland managed, voice cracking with a mix of horror and laughter, "that's not— i mean, we're friends. crewmates. get it? CREWMATES. CREW. not…. not mates. not romantic mates. "

"friends who leak water together over love movie," rocky countered, sounding proud of his logic. "friends who fix each other mistakes in calculations. friends who stay up late talking about home. this is romantic in movie. why not in real, question? you both single. no mark to hate here."

ryland groaned and buried his face in his hands. "oh god, not the mark thing again."

“who's mark?”you asked.

“nobody!” ryland answered, a little too fast.

“humans in film.” rocky continued. “they do bonding rituals. this is mating behavior, question?”

ryland choked. “what— no— rocky, no, that’s not—”

but rocky was already continuing, tone unchanged.

“male human watches female human. expression changes. heart rate likely increased. behavior similar to when you observe her.”

there was a pause.

you blinked. “m-me?”

“yes, yes, yes,” rocky repeated simply. “correct classification: bonded partner.”

"oh my god…. oh my god…. oh my god. rocky, i don’t have—”

“incorrect,” rocky interrupted. “you do. you observe her frequently. pupil dilation increases. voice pattern softens. you perform assistance behavior not required for survival.”

you slowly turned your head toward ryland.

he was now the color of a man who had just been scientifically outed for having feelings. he buried his face into his palms. you were willing to bet that his face was just as red as his ears right now. you felt your own heating up as well.

“i do not— i mean— those are just normal— i am a professional!” rylan tried to counter back again. so far you have nothing else to contribute but letting ryland to represent both your sides in this debate.

rocky continued, relentless in his analysis.

“you also share food. sit close. laugh at small noises she makes. this is mating-adjacent behavior.”

"we were trying to ration food—"

“and she reciprocates,” rocky added, now shifting attention to you. “you also exhibit proximity preference toward ryland grace.”

“you do?” ryland suddenly asked, sounded a little too enthusiastic. not at all what you expected.

both of their attention now were on you, and you stammered looking for the right thing to say in order to not make this worse.

“i— i mean—”

“conclusion updated,” rocky interrupted. “you should mate.”

“i haven't even said anything yet!” you countered back.

“rocky have seen enough.”

“rocky,” ryland said weakly. “my guy, please stop doing science at me. i mean us.”

“science is observation.”

“i am being observed incorrectly. i meant we."

rocky continued, undeterred. “also: grace cry when female human appears on screen. this indicate strong attachment response.”

“that was character appreciation!”

“you said ‘she is perfect’ twenty-seven times.”

“that was.… artistic commentary.”

“i mean rocky's right.” you added, shrugging. to be fair, julia roberts was an incredibly charming woman.

“you're making this worse!”

you held up both hands in surrender. “sorry.”

then you made the mistake of looking at him.

he looked back.

and immediately looked away again like he had been caught committing a crime.

“eye contact.” rocky said in a sing-song.

“please stop.”

you glanced at ryland. “he’s not wrong about that one. you do look at me a lot and i don't know why.”

that made him go very still.

the air between you shifted. like something that had always been sitting quietly in the room had finally been named.

ryland swallowed. “yeah,” he said, voice lower. “well. i mean. you’re easy to look at.”

you blinked before letting out a scoff. “huh. wow. okay.”

he immediately panicked. “that came out wrong. not like— scientific observation. not like rocky observation. just— human observation. normal human—”

“ryland.”

he stopped again.

“is this mating behavi—”

“no!” you and ryland said simultaneously.

———————

much later, rocky was curled up in his little ball, lights dimmed for ship-night, his breathing low and rhythmic.

asleep.

you and ryland sat nearby, watching rocky as both of you had promised to him since the first time you met. to be left alone with ryland after what went down in the projector room was as awkward as you had imagined without rocky's usual quips. neither of you had moved for ten minutes, pretending not to replay the entire conversation in your heads.

pretending like your minds were not going back and forth between two "what if he's right" and "what if he's wrong" questions.

what if rocky was right and maybe there was perhaps a little spark there between you and ryland grace? hidden to the two of you but undeniable to the alien?

what if this was just the result of being the only two people from the same species being 11 light years away from home?

perhaps it was the latter. perhaps it was nothing. like who cares if ryland watched you sleep during the radiation storm? you were the pilot, he was the scientist. you two needed one another for this mission, to survive. the coffee/dessert part? just the two of you being polite. the blanket? he was cold. watching movies together? well, who else were you supposed to see them with? and thank goodness rocky wasn't around yet to see you cry against ryland's neck while watching casablanca together. if notting hill was his undoing, yours would be that.

it was probably 10 minutes later when ryland finally muttered a simple “well.”

“well.” you repeated.

and more silence.

“that was…. something. earlier, you know?” he laughed nervously. "crazy."

“did not have a rock alien setting me up on my bingo card this year.” you said.

"i didn't even have "meeting an alien" on my bingo card at all.”

you snorted.

ryland smiled too before looking down. “but do you…. do you think.…”

“think what?”

he rubbed his neck, hesitating. he went quiet for a while before shaking his head. “nothing.”

you watch him momentarily. “ryland.”

he looked up at you, glasses low. his eyes uncertained, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him.

“did you watch me sleep during the radiation storm?”

a beat.

“a little.”

“a little? for thirty-seven minutes?”

“that number is way too specific.”

you laughed. “maybe rocky exaggerated that part.”

he smiled, then exhaled. “yeah, maybe.”

“but the rest of them are true.” you added.

the ship was quiet again. you looked at him. really looked at him this time. and suddenly he was no longer the awkward, rambling scientist who couldn’t sit through a movie without turning it into a commentary track. not the guy who got emotional over rom-coms and denied it. but the person who had been there through everything. who made you laugh when things got too heavy. who noticed when you were off before you even said anything.

“which part?” he asked, quieter now.

you hesitated, then forced yourself to meet his eyes. “the…. stuff about us. spending time together. looking out for each other. all that.”

he swallowed.

“that’s just…. normal, right?” he said, but there was uncertainty in it now. he didn't even believe what he said.

“is it?” you asked gently. “but it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

he didn’t answer, so you kept going.

“you stay up with me when i can’t sleep,” you said. “even when you’re exhausted. you remember the smallest things about me. stuff i don’t even remember telling you. you—” you stopped yourself, then shook your head a little, smiling faintly. “you always make sure i eat before you do.”

he let out a quiet breath, eyes flicking down.

“you do things too,” he said quickly, almost like he needed to even the scale. “you— you check on me when i get too caught up in work. you bring me those stupid snacks i like even though they’re objectively terrible. you—” he huffed a small, nervous laugh. “you laugh at my jokes. that alone is, like, a huge indicator of something.”

you snorted. “your jokes are funny.”

“they are not funny.”

“they are to me.”

when your eyes meet again, something in his expression shifted. softened. the same way like it had earlier during the movie, but this time it wasn’t directed at a screen.

it was at you.

“….that’s the thing,” he said quietly. “it’s…. different with you.”

your heart skipped.

“different how?” you asked, just as quietly.

he hesitated, like he was choosing his words carefully, or maybe just trying to find them at all.

“i don’t—” he stopped, exhaling. “i don’t feel like i have to be ‘on’ around you. you know? like…. i’m not performing or over-explaining or trying to prove anything. i can just…. be.”

you didn’t realize how much you needed to hear that until he said it.

your voice came out softer than you expected. “you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“i know,” he said. “that’s…. kind of the point.”

a beat again.

he shifted closer. so close your shoulders touched. your breath hitched, stomach doing that stupid thing again. but neither of you moved away.

“can i ask something stupid?”

you didn't trust yourself to speak so you just nodded.

“if i kissed you right now….” he swallowed. “.…would that ruin everything?”

silence.

your lips parted but not words came out, eyes already flickering to his mouth.

“i guess there’s one way to test that hypothesis.”

he was the one who leaned first, crashing his lips against yours carefully, like one wrong move and everything would be ruined. then he stilled. his lips were softer than you imagine. you felt his hesitations, felt his contemplation, if he should pull away or keep going.

but then he finally moved. slow, testing the waters. you kissed him back, sighing into his mouth a little like you've been waiting months for him to do it. perhaps you had but haven't admitted it to yourself until now.

you felt his hand hover near your face before finally settling to cup your jaw, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you at all, while having his lips on you. like you were the most sacred things in the universe that he wanted to protect.

“excellent.”

“ARGH!!!!”

you flinched at the sudden interruption. ryland automatically jumped from his seat, holding your shoulder and hid behind you.

it was rocky.

and rocky was very much awake.

upright. watching. jazz hands wiggling.

“rocky!” ryland screamed.

“you were not asleep?!” you asked, voice high.

“correct.”

ryland yelped. “were you spying on us?!”

“no.”

pause.

“listening.”

“that IS spying, rocky!" you groaned.

“successful mating initiation.” rocky sounded smug, which should have been impossible for an alien spider.

“oh, jesus.” you hid your face in your palm while ryland slowly sat back down.

“adrian would be pleased.” rocky clicked proudly. “when is the wedding, question?”

"nope! no more questions from you! that’s it. movie nights are cancelled forever,” ryland said, pointing accusingly. “done. over.”

“incorrect,” rocky replied. “more mating films required for further study.”

“conclusion,” rocky continued, completely ignoring him, “mutual romantic interest confirmed. physical interaction increases bonding.”

“stop analyzing us like we're lab experiments!” you said.

“it is a lab experiment,” rocky countered calmly. "rocky will need to see the mating process now.”

“no!”

ryland looked like he was this close from ejecting rocky to outer space. pissed but in an adorable way.

"ryland, ryland. calm down. it's okay." you giggled, hand caressing his chest and kissing his cheek while he was still mock glaring at rocky, just to see something. he went red all over again.

rocky made delighted clicking noises.

“now kiss again,” rocky said. “for science.”

[azaablue]

the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be apart of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.

[kores-fandom-asks]

Aang: Your smile? It makes my day.

Katara: Your happiness? I live for that.

Zuko: A room? Get one.

Sokka: Hotel? Trivago.

how does Sokka know that reference

[singse]

When Aang sees the yellow ribbon around your neck, he almost trips over...something. He manages to catch himself with a gust of air and find his balance but his focus is still on you.

"Hey, are you o—?" Sokka asks, having just watched one of his best friends nearly eat dirt. But then he notices Aang's distracted gaze and follows where it lands. "Ooooooh, I seeeee." He smirks, nudging Aang. "Never pegged you for the possessive type, dude."

That snaps Aang out of his haze, half-lidded eyes becoming alert.

"What!? No!" Aang shouts, shaking his head. "Not possessive at all! I just, um, wasn't prepared to see that."

Sokka's smirk widens. "So you say," he says, prodding at Aang's side. "And trust me, I get it. When Suki wore a necklace representing my tribe, I kinda lost it." He shrugs. "There’s something about the person you love wearing a piece of who you are. Don't feel all shy because you've made that realisation."

Aang doesn't reply, he can't because he's too tongue-tied. Overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotions that have come with Sokka's words.

Possessiveness isn't a quality Aang would claim to have. It'd be something he'd frown upon because no one is meant to be possessed. Every living thing has its own free will and should be allowed to use of it. So Aang would never say that he possesses you—you've given yourself to him because you want to and vice versa.

But seeing the yellow ribbon around your neck, shifting with the lines of your throat as you speak with Toph, it...does something to him.

To see you wearing one of his colours so openly, like you're telling the world that you belong to him and there's no doubt about it.

A subtle heat spikes in his chest, slips low into his stomach and settles there. Laying in wait for the right moment to strike.

Sokka snorts and pats his shoulder. "Yeah, that's exactly how I felt," he laughs before walking over to you and Toph. You greet him happily, grinning when Toph says something that makes Sokka roll his eyes. Then you look towards him, your grin widening as you wave, so unaware of what the ribbon around your neck is doing to him.

Aang waves back weakly, managing a smile and tries not to think so hard about the ribbon.

Or you wearing the ribbon.

Just the ribbon.

"I need help." Aang murmurs to Momo who's just landed on his shoulder.

Momo chatters then pats his head, consoling.

[vidaliarkv]

Heyaaa, can you please write adultToph×fem!reader wife headcanons? :)))))

⸝⸝ Aged Up!Toph x Fem!Wife!Reader ⸝⸝

A/N: muehehehe I love how you think. My brain was at 1% (finals got me in a chokehold) before I saw this, but now I'm fully powered by the sheer vision of adult Toph being the absolute menace as your wife

Growing up doesn't mean Toph Beifong "softened"

it just means she got better at hiding her soft spots behind layers of rock and sarcasm. Being married to the Greatest Earthbender in the World means your life is loud, messy, and full of literal tremors.

Your Dynamic

Earth-Sensing Intuition: She doesn't need to see your face to know you’re upset. She feels the way your heart rate kicks up or how you’re shifting your weight from foot to foot.

The "Metal" Wedding Ring: Toph isn't a silver or diamond person. She forged your wedding bands herself out of the spare meteor metal. She likes to keep hers slightly magnetized so she can "find" you in a crowded room just by sensing the pull of the metal on your finger.

The Beifong Household: The floor of your house is definitely made of marble and stone. Toph "remodels" whenever she’s bored or grumpy. One day you have a pantry, the next day she’s decided the kitchen needs an open-concept layout and just sinks the wall into the floor.

Public vs. Private: In public, she’s Chief Beifong—tough, stoic, and ready to throw a boulder at anyone who looks at her wrong. At home, she’s a total "deadweight" snuggler. She will lean her entire body weight against you while you’re cooking or reading, claiming she just wants to be closer to you.

Toph isn't exactly a morning person. She usually wakes up before you because she can feel the city of Republic City starting to vibrate as people get out of bed, but she’ll stay under the covers until you move.

You’re trying to be sneaky. You really are. You slide out from under the heavy duvet, careful not to let the floorboards creak—not that it matters, because she can feel your warmth leaving your side of the bed. "Where do you think you're going?" Her voice is gravelly and thick with sleep. Your feet haven't even touched the floor yet. You sigh, looking back at the mess of dark hair sticking out from the pillows. "I was going to make tea, Toph. And maybe breakfast before you start complaining that you're starving." A pale hand reaches out from the blankets, grabbing your wrist with pinpoint accuracy. She yanks you back down, and before you can protest, she’s wrapped her arms around your waist like a vine. She buries her face in the crook of your neck, huffing a warm breath against your skin. "Tea can wait. The floor is cold and you’re warm. Stay put." You laugh, running your fingers through her messy hair. "You know, for the toughest woman in the world, you’re awfully clingy and it's not even 6 am." "Shut up," she mumbles, already drifting back to sleep. "I’m the Chief. I do what I want."

Toph takes her job very seriously, even if she acts like it’s a total drag. Some days she comes home covered in bruises and bad attitude.

The front door doesn't just open; it thuds against the wall. You hear the heavy clomp-clomp of her boots—she’s not even trying to walk lightly, which means she’s annoyed. "I hate politicians," she bellows, kicking her boots off into the corner. "I hate the council, I hate paperwork, and I especially hate people who think they can lie to me when I can literally feel their toes twitching." You walk into the hallway, leaning against the doorframe with a wet towel in your hand. "Bad day at the office, Chief?" Toph stops mid-sentence. She "looks" at you—that sightless, unblinking gaze that still feels like she’s reading your soul. Her shoulders drop about three inches. She stomps over to you, but instead of a rant, she just puts her forehead against your shoulder. "My head hurts. Everything is too loud today." You lead her to the sofa, letting her sit between your legs while you use the damp cloth to wipe the dust and grime off her face. She complains for a second about you "mothering" her, but then she leans into your touch, her eyes closing. "Better?" you ask. She grabs your hand, giving it a quick, firm squeeze—her version of a thank you. "Yeah. Don't tell anyone I let you do this, or I'll have to bury you in the backyard."

Toph knows you can handle yourself, but that doesn't stop her from being incredibly territorial.

You’re at a high-end gala for some charity event. You’re wearing a dress that’s way too fancy, and Toph is in her formal metalbending police uniform, looking like she wants to punch the buffet table. Some slick businessman is cornering you, trying to pitch some investment while leaning a little too close into your personal space. You’re being polite, but you’re clearly uncomfortable. Suddenly, the floor underneath the guy’s feet shifts. It’s subtle—just a half-inch tilt—but it’s enough to make him stumble back. A heavy hand lands on your waist, pulling you flush against a metal-plated side. Toph is standing there, a smirk on her face that looks more like a dare. "Is this guy bothering you, honey?" she asks. She doesn't even look at him. She just stares straight ahead, looking imposing as hell. "I was just—" the guy starts. "You were just leaving," Toph interrupts. She taps her foot on the marble floor. A tiny shockwave sends the guy’s drink splashing all over his expensive silk tie. "Oops. Guess I'm a little clumsy tonight. Better go get that cleaned up." As he scurries away, you turn to her, raising an eyebrow. "Clumsy, Toph? Really?" She chuckles, sliding her arm further around you. "Hey, I didn't see him there. Give a blind girl a break. Now let’s get out of here and get some real food. I’m tired of eating tiny crackers that taste like dirt."

Even after years of marriage, there are moments where the difference in how you perceive the world creates something beautiful.

You’re sitting on the porch of your vacation home in the Earth Kingdom. The sun is setting, painting the sky in deep purples and oranges. It’s breathtaking. Toph is sitting on the steps, her bare feet pressed firmly against the soil. She’s quiet, just listening to the wind in the trees. "What's it look like?" she asks suddenly. It’s rare for her to ask. Usually, she doesn't care about what she’s "missing." You sit down next to her, shoulder to shoulder. "It’s bright," you describe softly. "The clouds look like they’ve been dipped in gold, and the sky near the horizon is the same color as the hibiscus flowers you brought home last week. It’s... peaceful." Toph is silent for a moment. Then, she takes your hand and places it flat on the ground. "Close your eyes," she commands. You do. "Now, don't just feel the dirt. Feel the heartbeat of the forest. There’s a badger-mole about two miles under us, digging a new tunnel. There’s a stream hitting the rocks over the hill—you can feel the rhythm, right? Thump-splash, thump-splash. And there’s you. Your heart is steady. You’re calm." For a second, through her guidance, the world feels solid and connected in a way you’ve never known. You aren't seeing the colors, but you’re feeling the life. She leans her head on your shoulder and you two bask in the peace.

border: @/honeyluvsw

[xoxowaillen]

I love her so much bro I'm getting sick 😞

[dust-b0wll]

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂I'M SO WET😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 IM SO FUCKING TIGHT 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂YOU HEARD THAT RIGHT😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂HURRY MY FUCKING PLATE UP😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂I'M NOT PLAYING😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂I BETTER GET THAT PLATE RIGHT FUCKING NOW😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭ID LET HER NUH IN ME😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭IM FUCKING HORNYYYY😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I MEAN HUNGRYYYYYYYYYYYY😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭WHERE MY PLATE ATTT LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[phmzuzu]

Good morning to my wife, the sexiest earthbender in the world

[sokkasbabygirl]

Erm uh so like. Gulp. Is it ok if u do a toph x reader the reader is an actual NERRDD and toph secretly loves their yapping 🥹

❝ TOPH BEIFONG X NERD!READER ❞

an: yummmyyy ty louie i liked writing this heh

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

You were talking again.

Not just talking, but rambling. Words spilling out faster than you could organize them, thoughts stacking on top of each other as if they were racing to be heard first.

“Okay but if you really think about it, seismic sense is basically a form of vibration mapping, so technically someone could maybe recreate a weaker version if they understood pressure distribution and ground feedback, because different regions use different materials and that would affect how vibrations travel and—”

Toph lay back with her arms behind her head, one foot hooked lazily over the other. She let you go on, not interrupting, just listening in her own quiet way.

“—and like, Ba Sing Se versus Omashu would feel completely different because the density of the stone changes everything and—”

She let out a short snort.

You stopped immediately.

“…am I talking too much?”

There was a brief pause.

“Not really.”

You blinked. “…not really?”

Toph tilted her head slightly toward you, lips curving into a small grin.

“Keep going.”

You hesitated, caught off guard. “You actually want me to?”

“If I didn’t, I’d tell you to stop,” she replied easily.

That was fair.

Still, you felt a little unsure. “I just feel like I’m rambling.”

“You are,” she said without hesitation.

You sighed. “Toph.”

She nudged your shoulder with hers.

“It’s not a bad thing,” she added, her voice a little softer this time. “You get all into it. It’s… interesting.”

“Interesting,” you repeated, skeptical.

“Yeah,” she said, shrugging. “Your voice changes.”

“My voice does not change.”

“It does,” she insisted. “Gets faster. A little higher too. Like your brain is trying to sprint ahead of your mouth.”

You stared at her.

“That is not what I sound like.”

She grinned, completely unapologetic. “It is.”

You huffed, crossing your arms, but she could already feel the shift in your posture. A small mix of embarrassment and stubbornness.

Toph leaned a little closer, bumping your shoulder again.

“Anyway,” she said, casual as ever, “you were saying something about buildings.”

You glanced at her, still unsure. “…you actually care?”

Toph rolled her eyes, though there was no real bite behind it.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”

That was enough.

You started again, slower this time.

“Different regions use different types of stone, so the way vibrations travel changes depending on density. It’s kind of like how sound moves differently through water compared to air.”

Toph went quiet, thinking it through.

“…so you’re saying the ground feels different depending on where I am.”

“Exactly,” you said, leaning in a little. “Which means your bending isn’t just strong, it’s adaptive. You’re constantly adjusting without even realizing it.”

She hummed softly.

“…huh.”

You lit up immediately, excitement slipping back in before you could stop it.

“Right? So technically your ability is even more precise than people think because you’re reacting to tiny differences in the earth all the time and—”

“There it is again.”

You groaned. “Toph.”

She laughed, the sound warm and unfiltered, and leaned her head lightly against your shoulder.

“Relax,” she said. “I like it.”

That stopped you.

“…you do?”

Toph shrugged, but she did not move away.

“Yeah. It’s better than listening to the others go on about boring stuff.”

You laughed quietly at that.

The tension faded just like that.

“…okay,” you said, a little softer now. “So as I was saying…”

“Yeah,” she murmured, settling in beside you. “Keep going.”

And you did.

You kept talking, letting your thoughts run however they wanted, not worrying about how fast or how much.

Toph stayed right there the whole time, listening to every word, even if she would never admit how much she enjoyed it.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

[digitalslug]

No I don’t care about ur toph head canons. I just want her to scissor me like please

[xoxowaillen]

I want you to look at me in a way someone looks at their lover, with those teary pleading eyes, while they silently beg them not to go. Especially after they thought they had finally convinced the lover to stay.

But the sad truth is, their lover always planned to leave, always. They just stayed a little bit longer, lingered few more seconds in this life, because saying the final "goodbye" was much harder than burning all the remaining "I love you's" into their memory.

[xoxowaillen]

What's more tragically beautiful than an immortal being (like a vampire) falling in love with a dying specimen (a deathly ill human), despite refusing to at first but eventually caving in anyway, even if they knew the heartache would last quite literally forever???

[outromoony]

Books: Main characters must follow the plot.

Fanfiction: Okay but what if they went to IKEA and fought over furniture instead?

[uwudonoodle]

[cashytouille]

Some fun before Arcane s2 finale... (or after, depends when saw u this).

[xoxowaillen]

THE JAYCE AND VI ONE 😭😭

[afterthelambs]

"In another life I would have really liked just dancing and making inventions with you"