So I see a lot of people here on Tumblr dot com who reblog things talking about how ugly they are or how they're trash or not deserving of love, etc. These posts are sometimes told in a joking matter, sometimes serious. But no matter their intention, I always refuse to like or reblog them because like... that's just so self-degrading?? And super unkind of yourself to tell yourself or to joke about to yourself? And even the simple act of liking or reblogging such a thing (jokingly or not) is just reinforcing that idea to your brain that you are undeserving of self-love, self-acceptance, of love and kindness itself, of the beautiful gift of being a human being and experiencing beautiful things in your extraordinary body that has already carried you through so much life and so many wonderful and magical experiences. And I don't know, it just really hurts my heart when my mutuals and the people who I follow think so little of themselves. Like, all of y'all are so so SO deserving of love, friendship, and all of the wondrous experiences you've yet to make a part of your already beautiful past. I just don't find anything funny about self-degredation, even if it is meant to be passed off as humorous, and you are so capable of love, of true lasting friendship, of tasty food and good music and adorable animals and the warmth of a fire in the fireplace on a chilly night or a really fucking good movie.
Babes, PLEASE stop referring to yourselves as trash, as ugly, as saying you are undeserving of literally so much that you definitely do deserve. I can't take it. I love you I love you I love you, so I need you to try really hard to love yourselves and to stop beating yourselves up and being mean to yourselves, okay??
Word Count: 2,315.
Genre: Angst
Pairing: Arnav x Khushi
Khushi swayed on her knees, trying to get a grip on her life. Every time she tried to do something good, it spun into something worse.
The sky was clear, stars shining bright. Perhaps her parents were giving her some guidance. But tonight, she couldn’t look up.
Anjali's screams, her ability to kill her child out of shame, the monster that Shyam turned out to, the sham Khushi's marriage ended up being...
Because the only thing that made this marriage work was him. It was beyond her hands from the first day.
Her arms wrapped around herself tightly, not from the night chill - but to hold in the ache, the fury, the wreckage.
She was so angry on herself.
"Hey Devi Maiyya, I hope I don't regret this."
Khushi had known, known so deeply that she would come to regret not telling everyone about Shyam but she had feared. What if Anjali, upon knowing the truth on the day - killed herself?
Ever since Shyam entered their lives, she know any decision she would take would result in the worst outcome.
She had tried to take one that would hurt the less.
And now, after it all, she was lost in confusion.
The worst part wasn’t the kidnapping. Not the bruises on her arms or the long, sleepless nights that followed.
The worst part was Arnav’s eyes when he spoke. Before he turned away, before he left her.
It showed the truth. The truth he believed.
“Yes you are. You are responsible for everything.”
She didn’t cry. There was no need. His words had already etched deep enough to draw blood.
"You are the biggest mistake of my life."
She curled by the poolside, knees drawn to her chest. She could still smell his cologne in the air. The scent of him lingered like a memory that refused to fade - cruel and familiar. Her breath hitched once, twice - and then she slept.
She never heard Arnav return, regret heavy on his footsteps.
She did not hear him crouch by her, hands hovering mid air, hesitating before placing a blanket over her.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll talk to her.
But when he woke the next morning, she was gone.
And she wasn't the only one missing - Anjali was gone too.
Arnav had no time to check in on his throbbing headache, dipping sugar levels or the multiple bruises on his body.
He was going to lose his sister, again.
The house was in disarray. None of the Prakashes had seen her. Nani hadn’t either.
It was Manorama who stirred the storm,
“I saw phati sari near Anjali’s room before sunrise. Maybe she said something again. This is why these girls bring so much tension-”
Arnav didn’t wait to hear the rest. Panic rising, he went room to room, calling for both of them, checking the garden, the kitchen, the driveway.
Then he remembered - the temple.
He found them there, both wearing red sarees. Where Khushi found the strength to deck up two days after family trauma - was beyond him.
Anjali stood nearby, holding a diya, trying to light it with trembling fingers. Khushi reached out gently to help. When Anjali lifted the sindoor, Khushi’s hand caught her wrist - a silent, desperate plea.
And then Anjali, without a word, threw the sindoor pot away.
It shattered on the steps. Red powder splattered like blood.
The crowd gasped.
That was enough.
“What the hell are you doing here, Khushi?” he thundered.
She flinched but didn’t move.
She didn’t look up.
“I asked you something,” he growled again.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the thali. Her jaw set. But still, she said nothing.
He marched toward her, grabbed her arm, forced her to stand. She burned in humiliation as the priest stopped chanting and eyes turned toward her.
“I asked you something!” he roared again.
She didn’t respond. She didn’t look up. Her hands just gently pressed the thali to the stone, like it was her last anchor.
He gripped her arms, tight enough to leave a bruise as he demanded answers. Khushi fought to keep her tears at bay.
Her marriage was an open secret, but she felt the last shreds of dignity fade as everyone saw the marriage for what it was.
“Don’t you get it? You’ve been told a thousand times — stay the hell away from my sister!”
“Enough, Chhote.”
Anjali’s voice was soft but sharp as a blade. Her palm came to rest on his shoulder, steadying him - or maybe herself.
"Arnav ji, I-"
He silenced her with a glare.
Khushi’s eyes dropped to the temple floor, shame closing in like a noose.
He growled, “Why are you both here?”
Anjali met his gaze this time. Unwavering.
"It's Teej Chhote,"
He blinked.
She glanced back at Khushi, then met his eyes.
“We’re here for our husbands.”
She let the words settle like dust before adding, with devastating calm-
“For our unworthy husbands.”
Arnav went still.
Anjali let the diya fall into the tray and stepped down the temple steps. She paused beside Khushi, brushing a hand across her cheek - a gesture of forgiveness, of understanding. Then she walked past him, letting Mohan guide her back to her car.
When Anjali had watched Khushi, earlier that morning - whispering a prayer and apologies to Devi Maiyya, she knew.
She had seen Khushi fast in silence, fight her own hunger, her own hurt - not because of some tradition, but because love refused to die even when dignity did.
“Khushi, I-” Arnav turned to her but Khushi was already gone. Her steps light, her presence even lighter, as she disappeared into the morning crowd and into the nearest auto
Arnav stood among marigolds and burning incense, surrounded by prayers he never believed in - and wondered how a woman he had accused of ruining lives could still wish for his to be long.
Just how many more times could he make the same mistake?
Later that evening, Shantivan was tense.
Arnav came home to silence. No one said anything. Even Anjali had retreated into her room with her thaal and mangalsutra left by the temple.
"Anjali bitiya has accepted the truth," Nani started and brushed Arnav's hair, "now you accept it too, because if you cannot - you won't be able to forgive me either."
"What do you mean Nani?" Arnav asked, holding her frail hands.
"I am responsible for your mother's death." Nani whispered.
The minute Devyani knew of the affair, she knew she had to tell her daughter. With her mother by her side, Ratna wouldn't go and kill herself, right? She would have taken the support and love of her children to stay strong! And a man like Arvind couldn't be trusted when he begged Devyani to not tell Ratna about the affair!
But as one who was always fair, she decided to go and tell her daughter the truth!
"And we all know what happened after that. So I understand, I just know what Khushi and Payal bitiya mean when they say they kept it in to save the families. Yes, they could have been more right about it but there's no knowing, is there?" Devyani brushed away her grandson's tears.
She didn't realize how much him breaking down would break her old spirit.
Arnav hugged her, letting tears stream away.
It was too much.
After a moment her broke away, grimacing a little as his tear stung a wound. He signaled Hari Prakash to bring some tea.
"Anyways, uh... where's Akash?"
“Akash bitwa? He's at Payaliya's” she said. “She is keeping her fast too.”
Arnav blinked. “He went?”
Devyani nodded, sipping tea. “Quietly. Out of custom. And guilt." Arnav nodded.
"He'll come around Chhote, he always does. But will you?" Arnav looked up, surprised.
"Nani... I-"
"Chhote, I knew a man who promised to love a woman like none other. But he couldn't control his vices." Devyani sighed, "and you, can't control your anger. So either you act, or leave her."
"Na-"
"Please." Devyani held her grandson's hand, hoping there was some of her daughter in him.
Arnav left without another word.
-- -- --
The Gupta house was dimly lit. He stood outside the gate for longer than necessary, unsure if he deserved to enter.
Inside, Madhumati sat silently while Payal applied balm to Khushi’s forehead. Akash had left, promising to come back tomorrow.
Khushi hadn’t spoken much since she returned. Just asked to stay alone. But she refused to eat. She didn’t want the fast broken.
Garima looked aghast and ashamed. Neither girl spoke to their mother. Madhumati had cloth tied around her head to fend off another pending headache.
She knew Garima had pushed the girls into taking the wrong step. Except, post the Shyam fiasco, Madhumati lost confidence in her own decision making.
If only she had stood ground and told the family the truth they deserved to know.
And with Arnav not having showed up-
The door creaked.
Arnav stepped in.
Madhumati stared at him with the weight of a woman who had watched too much go wrong.
“She hasn’t eaten,” she said simply.
He didn’t look at her. He looked at Khushi - frail, pale, yet somehow glowing in the moonlight filtering through the window.
He knelt beside her. She looked at him, concerned, pleading, as the rest of her family peaked at them.
She knew what they were thinking. They were worried how Arnav would react. They knew he knew, and they knew he wasn't one to forgive. Would he forgive the Guptas? Would he take the anger out on Khushi? Why did Arnav marry her so quickly if he had known-had he?
"I'm sorry Buaji for arriving late, I must have you all worried-"
"Babua, we're so sorry, Khushi actually wanted-" Madhumati began, hoping for the best.
"Buaji please. I understand. I really do. If you don't mind, can I be here tonight?"
A weight lifted off Madhumati's shoulders. She rushed towards Arnav, hugging him tightly.
"Babua this is your home. Never ask ever, again. I'll set the table for both of you." Madhumati lightly kissed Khushi's head and left, giving the couple privacy.
"Thank you," Khushi whispered.
"I'm sorry," Arnav said, taking the balm from the side table and pressing it on her forehead.
"Arnav ji, they're gone-"
"I'm not doing this for appearances, I'm sorry." He worked his fingers on her temples. Khushi held his hand and pushed it aside, gently.
"Arn-"
“I didn’t come to break your fast,” he said quietly.
Her eyes shifted, barely meeting his. “Then why are you here?”
He swallowed. “Because... I don’t want to be the man you pray in spite of. I want to be someone you pray for.”
She looked away.
“I said things I can’t unsay.”
“I heard things I can’t unhear.”
The silence between them tightened, thick with every misstep they’d ever made. And his, always, outweighed hers.
"Khushi, I don't know where to begin-"
"Then don't." Khushi curled into the sofa, hiding her face in her dupatta.
And then she whispered: “Why does this feel like punishment?”
He shook his head, voice breaking. “Because we don’t know what to do with it. Because I don't know what to do with it.”
There was nothing grand about this confession. Just a man, tired of hurting the only person who made him feel human.
“Babua, here’s dinner.” Madhumati placed two plates on the table and quietly returned to her room, giving them space.
Khushi sat without moving. Her hands were folded in her lap, eyes on the rice that steamed gently in the thali.
“Khushi?” Arnav’s voice was soft now, almost careful. He reached toward the plate and gave her a spoon. She gingerly took a bite, and then took the plate and headed for the courtyard.
-- -- --
Later, when the house was still and the moon had shifted to its deepest silver, she came to find him by other side of the house. He was seated cross-legged on a bench, fingers turning something over slowly in his lap.
It was his thali.
Filled with food she hadn’t seen him eat.
Her breath caught.
“You… you didn’t eat?”
Arnav looked away.
“Why?”
He gave a dry, broken chuckle. “Because what’s the point of living long if I have to do it without you?”
Her throat tightened. "You don't believe in this..."
“You do. And maybe, if I can’t be a man worthy of love yet, I can be one who learns from it.”
He pulled a folded paper from his pocket. Set it gently on the table between them.
Divorce papers.
Signed.
Tears pricked her eyes.
“I told my lawyer to send these weeks ago,” he said. “I didn’t want to give them to you in anger.”
Khushi stared at the papers, then at him.
“I know someone,” he continued, voice low, “who apparently loved the woman he killed. I am ending up becoming like him, regardless. So you’re free, Khushi. Truly free.”
Arnav waited with bated breath, watching her take the papers in her hand, read its contents and place it back on the bench.
She looked down, slowly tearing a piece of roti from the plate beside her. She dipped it in the dal, hands trembling slightly, and lifted it to his mouth.
He didn’t resist.
He opened his mouth. Took it in.
And something shifted.
“I hope I live long enough,” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “to argue with you.”
He blinked, startled. A small sound escaped him - something between a laugh and a choked breath.
“Because there are many, many things I still need to say to you.”
He looked at her like the world was giving him a second chance.
She reached for another bite.
And this time, her hands weren’t shaking.
--- --- --- ---
A/N: This is a request of @pakki-ya-nahin that I'm fulfilling after five years. God & PyN - forgive me if you can darlin'.
Tagging:
@chutkiandchotte
@dreaming-star
@professor-cant-fuck
@thedupattaknowswhatsup
@bigfatreader
@muttonthings
@da-ka-ba
@fresh-child-bouquet
@hand-picked-star
@fancydreamphilosopher
@scorpio-smiles
@thenainitaldisaster
@titaliya
@sankititaliya
@sampigehoovu
@jalebicheesecake
@dnkkpi
@nammy07
The Zero Zoxx Group 1989: J.G.Wind, Sammy Tornado, 100 Olezgiruf, Diego de Monte, Zero Zoxx, Vambo Schmierer and many more - Phantoman Party 1989/Protoman Party 1989, photo restored with AI
Summary: Thor doesn’t think you‘re a good friend to his brother.
Pairing: AU!Thor Odinson x fem!Reader, AU!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader (platonic/best friends)
Warnings: past addiction, mentions of drug abuse/addiction (Loki), angst, classism, Thor being an ass, BBF trope, mentions of spiked drinks
Unworthy masterlist
Thor doesn’t think you‘re a good friend to his brother and won’t stop telling you, his parents, and Loki so.
You’re not rich, and don’t come from a wealthy family. You’re just you, and that is not enough in Thor’s eyes.
“How can you believe she wants to be your friend,” Thor’s voice booms through the hallways. You sigh and try to focus on work, not the fact that the brute is yelling at your friend again. “You’re blinded by lust!”
“Y/N and I are only friends. I know you cannot be around a woman without getting between her legs, but I cherish my friendship with Y/N. Stop trying to ruin our bond.”
“Bond,” the blonde snorts when you step out of your office to come to Loki’s aid. “Ah, there she is. The she-devil.”
“What is going on here?” You glare at Thor, not afraid of the tall man. He’s much taller than you and easily towers over you. “People try to work here, Mr. Odinson.”
“He tried to ruin our friendship again,” Loki defensively says. He moves closer to you, seeking your closeness. He’s still not out of the woods, and the confrontations with his brother do him no good.
You straighten your back and try to look taller while glaring at Thor. “I know you cannot understand that people want to be friends, but this doesn’t mean you can argue with your brother about our friendship all the time. This is ridiculous. Why do you hate the fact that Loki is my friend? There is no harm in being friends with me.”
“Says you,” Thor huffs as he eyes you up and down. “I know exactly what you are up to. Loki is just too blind to see who you truly are.”
You gently take Loki’s hand when he starts fidgeting next to you. He needs someone to help him with his insecurities and not fall back into old patterns.
Drug addiction is a dead end. If you don’t find a way back out, you are stuck. Loki is doing well. You’re a big help and the constant he needs to stay clean.
Thor doesn’t get that you are Loki’s anchor when the world gets too much again.
“How about we get you something to eat, darling,” you wrap one arm around Loki’s shoulder to guide him toward your office. “My office is a haven. Don’t worry. You’re safe, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Thor watches you guide his brother away from him with angry eyes. One day, he’ll find a way to get rid of you.
He doesn’t care that Loki and his father think highly of you. Thor Odinson swore to himself to remove you from his brother’s life, and he won’t stop until he succeeds.
“Son, I won’t argue with you again. Y/N is a hard-working woman. She’s smart, eloquent, and always professional. Stop trying to make her a bad person,” Odin warns one last time. Thor tried, once again, to get you fired.
“I do not trust her. Father, she’s not like us. I know there is something wrong with her. Why would she want to be friends with Loki during his darkest times if not to take advantage of him and his vulnerability.”
“I’m right here,” Loki rises from his seat to glare at his brother. “I’ve been clean for almost a year. Y/N was one of the reasons I did not have a relapse. She’s a good person and a kind soul. Stop being a classist!”
“I’m not a classist!”
Loki pants heavily. “YES YOU ARE!”
“Sons!” Odin slams his fist onto the table. “Thor, stop right there. Do not go any further.” Odin’s features soften seeing Loki’s hand tremble. “Loki, we believe you. Y/N is a good person and she’s always welcome here.”
“Thank you, father,” Loki nods before he turns to leave the room. “Please excuse me. I lost my appetite.”
“Morning darling,” you try to cheer Loki up. He told you about the scene Thor made during dinner. “I got you breakfast and the tea you like some much.”
“You’re the best,” he grins and takes the offered tea. “I’m sorry for chewing your ear off last night. I know I can be…too much.”
“Loki,” you cup his chin with one hand, “let me stop you right there. We are friends. You’re never too much. If you want to talk, even if it’s two am, come over or give me a call. That’s what friends are good for.”
Thor watches you run your hand up and down Loki’s arm. He squares his jaw and huff.
“Only friends. Who are you trying to kid, woman…”
Thor feels like he defeated a dragon. He crosses his arms over his wide chest and smirks as he watches your downfall.
Odin didn’t waste time. He’d do anything to protect Loki. Even if it means to fire one of his best and most reliable employees.
It took one old picture to ruin your life. Thor didn’t let up until he finally found something he could use against you.
A snapshot of you, stoned and barely awake as you hold a drink in your hands. To anyone else, it’s a girl partying during college. To Odin, it’s a picture of a woman bringing drugs and alcohol into his drug-addicted son’s life.
Your ears ring from the yelling you received from Odin. He called you an addict, and a bad influence. You don’t care that you lost your job. The only thing that pains you is that Odin forbids you to see Loki again.
“Are you done?” You coolly reply. “If so, you should know that I do not drink and that I didn’t take drugs. That’s a very old picture taken by someone I didn’t even know.”
“I cannot have someone like you near my son or at my company,” Odin regrets his harsh words, but Loki is more important than an employee.
You angrily wipe your eyes while Thor watches you clean out your desk.
This is it. He made it. You not only lost your job, but your friendship with Loki is over too.
His father will not allow you to keep in touch with his son. Not after his golden boy made him believe you’re a bad person. You knew the first time you met Thor Odinson that he would be your downfall.
“I knew you’re a bad influence,” he sneers when you look at him with teary eyes. “You’re tears and pout won’t work on me. I’m not my unstable brother eating out of your hands.”
“Do you think I care?” you choke on your tears. “Did you…” You take a deep breath. “Did you dig a little deeper? Did you find out that the picture was taken after some rich, entitled frat boy spiked my drink to show the poor and shy girl what happens when she turns his advances down?”
Thor blanches at your words. He doesn’t want to believe you, but your eyes give the truth away. “I—” It’s the first time the tall blonde is at a loss of words. He doesn’t have an answer or a comeback.
What if he just destroyed your career and friendship with Loki over nothing?
He was so blinded by his ignorance and jealousy that he did more than damage your career. Thor Odinson destroyed you completely. Your reputation and career lie in ruins all thanks to him. Everyone saw the picture you desperately tried to forget.
What’s past is past you told yourself whenever the memories flash back up. You tried to move past what happened back then and you believed, at least for a while, that you succeeded.
“Did you find out that I ended up in hospital, and that I only got lucky because a friend found me before that very same frat boy could finish his plan?”
“Why would he do this to you?” Thor’s tone is softer now.
“Well, he was just like you. A rich boy who never heard the word no,” you throw the last knick-knack into the box and pick it up. “He believed he can tell me to suck his dick and I’d happily oblige. That guy didn’t get that I’m not the kind of girl seeking attention from guys like him.”
“Wait—if that’s true,” Thor touches your arm, but you shake his hand off. “I talk to Father and explain my mistake. We can figure something out.”
“Save it,” you huff. “He didn’t believe me. I was nothing but loyal to your father and the company. All I ever wanted was to do a good job and be a good friend to Loki. Just you know, I stopped Loki from taking drugs anytime life dragged him down. I hope he finds help soon.” You sniffle. “I’d hate to watch him fall for the poison again only because you made it impossible for me to be there for him.”
Thor swallows thickly when you storm out of your office. You brush past Odin and Frigga who heard every word you threw in Thor’s direction. They feel as guilty as their son when their eyes meet Thor’s blue ones.
“Is that true, son?” Odin questions while you walk away, holding your head high. You didn’t do anything wrong. All you ever did was to support Loki.
“I don’t know yet,” Thor hastily says. “I’ll find out and then…” he trails off watching you walk past your co-workers. None of them even says goodbye, even though, you’ve been there for them whenever someone needed help. “I’ll make amends.”
The Zero Zoxx Group 1989: J.G.Wind, Sammy Tornado, 100 Olezgiruf, Diego de Monte, Zero Zoxx, Vambo Schmierer and many more - Phantoman Party 1989/Protoman Party 1989, photo restored with AI
