✰... ada. she/her. twenty-two [22]. professional reblogger. personal blog⋆˙✮
✰... current favs : gojo satoru , toge inumaki, mammon, barbatos, diavolo, solomon, umemiya hajime, kaji ren, suo hayato
✰... current fixations : jujutsu kaisen, obey me, hazbin hotel, the apothecary diaries
✰... important info : i regularly reblog posts from my favourite tumblr accounts. any and all reblogs DO NOT BELONG TO ME. and most, if not all are considered mature in nature, therefore as my header says 'minors do not interact'
enjoy your stay ₊˚⊹♡
p.s. if you enjoy any posts i reblog and wanna chat about any of them please do!
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cw: talk of losing weight, struggles with self-esteem and body image
"I think I need to lose some weight," you say to yourself, frowning as you stare at your naked form in the mirror. Your hands squeeze at the soft plush of your stomach and fondle the rolls at your sides, each touch a firing shot to your self-esteem. "Maybe I should join that exercise group that run sessions every—"
A sudden crash makes you jump, eyes widening in shock at the sound of rapid footsteps racing towards the bedroom. You're about to reach for your robe when Aang bursts into the room, the look in his eyes wild as he stares at you. Out of habit, you draw the robe to your chest to hide some of your nakedness.
"A–ang?" You stutter, puzzled as you observe your husband. "Are you okay? Did something—?"
"Don't you dare lose weight!" He interrupts loudly, having you squealing when he reaches out to grab hold on you. "Please don't or else I'll actually die. I'll wither away into nothing and is that what you want? To kill your husband?"
"Aang!" You exclaim, flustered at the feel of his large hands roaming your body and shamelessly fondling. "What are you—? How did you even hear me!?"
"I'm the Avatar," he replies solemnly, groping the plush swell of your ass. "I can hear anything and everything."
"Pretty sure that's false!" You try to push away his hands but deem it an impossible venture because Aang's ridiculously strong and ridiculously stubborn. "Besides, it won't cause any harm for me to drop a few pounds, right? Maybe lose a few rolls and make my thighs less thick?"
Aang stares at you, deadpan. "So you want to kill me?"
You can't help but snort. "No, I'm not trying to—"
"My extremely beautiful, hot, incredible, sexy, and gorgeous spouse wants to make their thighs less thick and they're saying they aren't trying to kill me. That's so crazy, I never knew you hated me."
You're laughing before you can help it. "Spirits, you're dramatic." You're smiling, your heart warm. "No, I just...I sometimes think I'd look better if I were smaller and...less...y'know." You gesture a wide width with your hands, your smile waning. "I see all these pretty people on the street with their bulging muscles and flat stomachs and lack of a double chin and I'm just...like...would it be better if I were like that?"
"No." Aang's answer is immediate. "No, it wouldn't be better because you're perfect as you are right now." He settles his hands on your hips, a comforting touch. "It may not matter but I love the way you look and how your body is. I love how it molds perfectly into mine and how it remembers my touch so well. I love how it keeps you alive and strong and healthy. I love how it allows you to exist right here with me." He leans in to rest his forehead against yours. "Also you wouldn't believe the amount of appreciating looks you receive whenever you walk by."
"Shut up." You roll your eyes but they're already misty with tears and there's a lump in your throat. "You're just saying that."
"I have eyes," Aang replies simply, nuzzling his nose against yours. "And I'm the Avatar so I'm correct about these things."
"Being the Avatar doesn't make all of your answers correct," you say softly, laughing when Aang nips at your nose.
"It does, don't argue with me," he says, smiling. "And hey, if you want to change, that's absolutely fine becauae it's something you want. But don't change because society is weird and awful with its standards."
It's getting harder and harder not to burst into tears because you can't believe you're married to the sweetest man to ever exist. Insecurities are a nuisance to tackle and you're in a battle with them most days as small things knock you off your balance.
The way your stomach looks in a shirt.
The reflection of yourself in a too narrow mirror.
Your cheeks looking far too big when you smile or your thighs chaffing on the day you're brave enough to wear a skirt.
It's tiring to live this way and that's when society gets to you. When it reminds you that being chubby is the wrong move and that if you're thinner, you'll have a far easier time living in a world that will start treating you like you're a part of it.
And not just some ailen.
And today, it nearly claimed you if it wasn't for Aang with his earnest eyes and even more earnest words. Words that you can trust and do trust more than anything because Aang...well, Aang loves you exactly as you are.
You smile as he gently wipes away your tears.
"Yeah, society's awful, isn't?"
Aang beams and drops a kiss upon your lips.
"Just awful."
The insecurities don't come back for a long, long time.
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"Aang!" You shout happily, running to meet him as he jumps off of Appa's back. You laugh when he lands right in front of you and sweeps you into his arms, your own arms wrapping around his neck as he joyfully spins you. "I've missed you!"
"I've missed you too," Aang replies, pulling back every so slightly to beam you a smile as bright as the sun. "More even."
"Impossible," you retaliate, grinning when Aang aims a pout your way. Big doe eyes blinking and all. "That's not gonna work because I did, in fact, miss you more so you can suck it."
"Oh?" Aang's eyes immediately develop a mischievous sparkle. "What can I suck? I'm assuming anything because I have been gone for two months and I seem to have forgotten how sweet you taste—"
You slap a hand over his mouth, a little flustered. "Slow down, perv. I haven't even said hi to Appa and Momo yet."
Aang playfully rolls his eyes. "I see how it is." His voice vibrates against your palm. "You love them more than me, huh? Your husband's been away for several weeks and this is the treatment I get?"
"The children come first," you reply, amused before shrieking as Aang suddenly licks your palm. "Aang, what the hell!?"
"Mm, just as sweet as I remember," Aang hums contentedly, groaning when you swipe off his own saliva on his cheek. "Okay, that wasn't very nice."
"Says the man who just licked my palm." You deadpan.
"You've literally had my come in your mouth and yet saliva is suddenly a problem?"
"Yes."
"Fair enough."
You smile softly, leaning in to capture his eager lips in a kiss. Your hands rake over the overgrown hair on his head before trailing down to his ears, the touch making Aang melt into you with a shiver.
"I missed you," you murmur against his lips and Aang smiles.
This particular silence that greeted Vox the moment he zapped himself into his penthouse was unnerving. Theoretically, a calm silence is supposed to be nice and welcoming. It would've been, had you not been noticeably absent. Typically, after a long day of dealing with hell's most incompetent sinners (seriously, was stupidity also a sin now?) he'd find you waiting for him on the couch.
The familiar spot you took on the couch while binging some cheesy show voxtek produced was empty. You usually sat in the corner of his fancy L-shaped couch with a fluffy blanket over your shoulders. The shark-printed blanket that most definitely did not belong to him you took was still there, untouched since yesterday.
Vox frowned. He waved a hand out in front of him to materialize his personal calendar. "Damn, assistant better not have forgotten to remind me of something," he grumbled while scanning several dates. He gave it a long stare as he double-checked. No niche anniversary, second-cousin's birthday, or death day. Unnecessary to check for your own birthday. He had that memorized.
"Where the hell is she?" He muttered, waving the calendar away and putting his wrist at eye level. The tiny screen of a voxtek smart watch lit up, casting a brighter glow on his screen.
The grumbling didn't stop as Vox shifted through various apps, searching for a specific one. His frown transformed into a satisfied smile when he spotted it. Labeled "tracker", he pressed it and was shown a map of V tower. A blue indicator lightly bounced where he was, where you should also be. He moved and pinched the screen in search of a pink indicator.
"What the...?" He asked, befuddled after finally spotting it. "What the fuck is she doing there?"
(Okay, yes, he gave you a tracker so he could find you anywhere in V tower or hell. No, it's not weird or obsessive.)
After heaving out a long, dramatic sigh, Vox zapped out of his quaint home to where you were.
What the fuck were you doing in Vel's room anyway?
꒰ঌ♡໒꒱
Perhaps Vox should've taken Val up on those Spanish lessons he had been bitching about. It would have proven to be immensely useful in this moment. Because right now, there wasn't a single word in the English language that could properly convey how Vox feels right now. The motherboard inside his monitor was surely close to frying itself while Vox tried digging the words out of his mind.
"₮ⱧɆ ₣Ʉ₵₭?!"
Hallelujah, the words came to him.
On the plush mattress of the softest, comfiest bed in V tower, you lay with two urchins comfortably glued to your sides. Or rather, chest. The three of you relaxed without a care in hell. Vox could hardly believe his eyes.
Velvette head lay on one side of your chest, eyes glued to her phone, which rested under your bust in her hand. While Val was glued to the other, eyes shut. The three of you hardly paid him any mind like he wasn't there seething. You were using one hand to stroke Vel's hair, and the other was caressing the base of Val's wings.
"Oh, hi honey," you greeted, "was work good today?" Your expression was serene, polar opposite to Vox's constipated face. How could he even begin to calm down? Instead of him using your soft chest as a pillow, his so-called business partners were with their arms wrapped around you. Those should be his arms around your waist, not Val's. Bastards lower arms were snaked around your thigh, too.
"₩Ⱨ₳₮ ₮ⱧɆ ⱧɆⱠⱠ ₳ⱤɆ ɎØɄ ₮₩Ø ĐØł₦₲?" His voice and screen glitched simultaneously as he glared down at his two supposed business partners.
Vel groaned and rolled her eyes. "What's it look like? Relaxing," she explained, scrolling through her sinstagram and dropping the occasional hate comment.
Val opened his eyes to frown at Vox. "Do you have to yell? Jeez, it's not like we're fucking." His frown converted into a smirk and he gazed at you and Vel, "though we could be."
"No thanks."
"Disgustin' ."
Val simply shrugged and laid his head back down. "Your loss, chiquitas," he sighed.
Vox's mouth remained open and downturned in disbelief to what he was witnessing. In the back of his mind, a new docket was added to his growing to-do list. "Find new business partners"
"₲Ɇ₮ Ø₣₣!" He finally managed to shriek out, screen still glitching with sparks flying off his monitor.
Both Vel and Val's lip curled, a matching expression of dissatisfaction on their faces. "No," they both said. Their grip on you tightened.
Today was finally the day Vox was going to test just how much anger his technological body could handle. It seemed to be quite a lot. Any average sinner probably would've "died" of a brain hemorrhage or something by now.
Fortunately, the sound of your sweet voice helped cool him down. Only a little.
"Okay, calm down," you soothed, rubbing Vel and Val's spots respectively, "loosen your grip." They listened.
"Vox, just come on and lay down with us. It's nice." You waved him over with the hand that had been resting on Val's back. "Val put on one of his shitty pornos. It's pretty funny."
"Hey!"
"Val, one of the lines is literally, "really, right in front of my salad?" Don't act like it's fuckin' titanic."
"I'll have you know this film won a golden dildo last year."
"Not for the dialogue, I'm sure."
Before the arguing could gain any more traction, you cut in. "Alright, calm down. We're here to relax. Not fight," you spoke softly, resuming your ministrations over each respective V. Except for one. Your actual boyfriend.
"A-HEM!"
You jerked your head to beckon Vox over. "Come on, sharkie. You can lay between my legs," you suggested while spreading them open a tad.
Vox pouted. "Not fair. Those two urchins took my spot," he huffed and crossed his arms.
"Keep poutin'. Real mature, V."
"Vel," you warned lightly. She quieted at your tone and remained glued to her phone. "Would you rather Val be between my legs?" You suggested sarcastically.
Val perked up. "Oh~? I wouldn't mind ♡," he moaned, lightly squeezing your thigh.
"No thanks," you deadpanned, softly pinching his hand.
Despite his grit teeth and tense stance, Vox knew a losing battle when he saw one. Though he didn't like it, he conceded and stripped down to his shirt and boxers (shark themed). His monitor finally began the process of cooling down when he felt the soft skin of your thighs over his shoulders, encassing his neck. His monitor laid over your stomach, the back of it warming the skin there.
The tense energy of the room dissipated with each V snuggling into you, listening to the symphony of dramatized moans from the TV. Your hand remained in Vel's hair. The other shifted from Val over to Vox's antennas.
"How the fuck did this shit win a golden dildo?"
"Excuse you! Travis works very hard on these scripts!"
Velvette scoffed. "With that tiny brain of his, not surprising this is the best he could do."
The tranquility ceased when the three V's continued to bicker with one another. You could only sigh and close your eyes to the familiar sounds of petty family squabbling. Just another day in V tower.
This is brought to you by my coworkers who are obsessed with my chest (it's fine. I think it's funny). Plus, the fact that there's barely any Vox fics where the Vel and Val actually like the reader and consider her a friend. Like, seriously, they always either dont like them or ignore them.
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