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turtle-steverogers · 5 years

Text

Government Affiliated Love Affairs

idk @fuck-your-fandoms suggested this and i vibed with it so yeee here we are

soulmate au! kinda!

ship: ralbert

warnings: none i dont think, but if i missed something lemme know

word count: 2600 ish

editing: eh kinda idk

“Well, this is stupid.”

“Yeah, tell me about it, pal.”

Race sighs, looking down at his hands as he fiddles with the cup sleeve of his grande americano.

It was common knowledge that the “Formulated Love Act of 2023” was not the most foolproof of laws passed by the government in the past 5 years (not that anything the government did anymore was foolproof, but he’ll digress), but Race couldn’t help but at least appreciate that it wasn’t trying to push any heteronormative bullshit.

That didn’t make this asshole any more bearable.

Granted, the notion of solving the ‘loneliness epidemic’ (which apparently was a thing and was causing the US enough damn trouble that the government fucking stepped in) through means of systematic soulmates was sweet. Everyone gets a match based off a stupid fucking questionaire they completed when they were 21, like “oh, you can drink now! Here’s a shot of vodka and also your future partner is gonna be determined by this thick ass packet, go ahead and fill that out, no pressure!” And by the time you’re 25, a soulmate’s been hand picked for you. By law, you’re required to marry them within a year of meeting, and then you’re set to live your life happily ever after.

It was nice in theory. But in practice? Not so much.

Then again, wasn’t the government usually like that?

Race wished he had some whiskey to pour into his americano like those edgy movie characters. Or Jack Kelly. Jack Kelly did that sometimes.

When he’d gotten the email a week ago with his soulmate’s information and their established ‘meet-up arrangements’- which were really just fancy words for ‘forced date, have fun’- Race had been tentatively hopeful that maybe he’d be one of the rare cases. The ones you read about on Buzzfeed where it really is love at first sight and maybe those few, poor FBI Agents who were stuck with the ‘Pairing Process’ had done something right for once.

The ounce of a Disney fan within him had even entertained the thought of some miraculous meeting, where sparks fly and eyelashes are batted and smiles are exchanged.

But no. Instead, Race is sitting at some random Starbucks in the middle of Manhattan with an obnoxious (and upsettingly pretty) redhead, who’s first words to him were, “I fucking hate coffee, I’m gonna get tea.” To which Race had tried to cover his scowl, but failed miserably.

He hated tea snobs. Don’t get him wrong, he enjoys tea as much as the next 25 year old guy, but those dudes who fucking made a point to openly despise coffee in favor of tea like some sort of pompous jerk? Yeah, they killed his boner.

Race toys around with his coffee cup for another moment, before the silence gets too thick and he breaks, “Albert, right?” he asks, because even though it’s been a good half hour since they’d met up, the guy still hasn’t properly introduced himself.

It had said Albert’s name and age in the email last Saturday, but come on. It’s basic human decency to at least offer your name and maybe a handshake.

Albert scrunches his nose, taking a long sip from his iced peach green tea lemonade. Fucking asshole.

“Yeah,” He says. He sounds bitter and uninviting. Race tries not to shrink in his seat, “And you’re Antonio.”

“Race,” Race interjects.

Albert’s eyebrows draw together, “Race? What the fuck kinda-”

“It’s a nickname, just-” Race scrubs a hand down his face, “Just, don’t question it, but it’s Race, got it?”

Albert leers at him, “Fine.”

The silence settles over them once more, except this time, they’re maintaining eye contact. Albert looks like he’s trying to size him up and Race’s neck prickles uncomfortably.

I mean, seriously, this is the guy Race has to marry? Yippee fucking ki yay.

“Listen,” Race says slowly, “This- I mean,” he blows out a breath, starting over, “I hate to break it to you, but we’re stuck together and you’ve gotta move in by,” he pauses, checking the date on his phone, “Wednesday, so we could either work something out or suffer.”

Albert’s glare doesn’t falter, “I’ll suffer.”

Race sighs again.

XXX

“And down the hall here is my room and that,” Race gestures to the door opposite his room, Albert trailing behind him, “Is yours.”

After their disaster of a first date last Saturday, Race had relented and cleaned out his office, turning it into a guest room and moving his desk and file cabinets into his own room. It was a tight squeeze into his relatively small space, but he wasn’t about to share a room with Albert. But he was a nice person and wasn’t gonna condemn him to the couch, either. So, guest room it is.

Albert hefts his box of belongings higher into his arms, shrugging his right shoulder to adjust the duffle bag on his back before inching into his room.

“Thanks, I guess,” He calls bluntly behind him before kicking the door closed, leaving Race standing dumbly on the other end.

Race blinks. Then, blinks again.

“Man, fuck you!” He calls in a sudden surge of anger. He hadn’t done a damn thing to Albert, what fucking right did he have to hate him? He didn’t even give him a chance!

“Nah.” Albert calls back.

“I didn’t mean it like that you fucking ass- you know what? Nevermind.” He storms into his own room, slamming the door shut behind him.

XXX

Later that night, Race is curled up in front of the TV, cradling a bowl of Panang curry and watching some random documentary about koalas. He spoons some fried tofu into his mouth, frontwardly considering getting a koala, because they’re fucking adorable, and distantly wondering if Albert was ever going to come out of his room.

He hadn’t heard from him all afternoon and the only indication that he was still in the house had been the distinct sound of a toe being stubbed, followed by a loud, ‘fuck me!’, which Race didn’t laugh at. He didn’t.

His question is answered a moment later when Albert’s door creaks open down the hall and he pads into the living room. Race can feel him lingering in the doorway, watching him, and he groans a little, placing his spoon back into his bowl and muting the television.

“What,” he says, turning to face Albert, who looks sheepish for a moment before replacing the scowl on his face.

“Nothing, just-” he purses his lips and glances towards the kitchen.

Race softens a little, “Are you hungry? I didn’t know your order, but I got you some pad thai,

‘cause it’s pretty standard…it’s in the fridge if you want it.”

Albert looks back at him, a strange look on his face, “You got me something?”

Race shrugs, “yeah?”

“Even after I-” Albert shakes his head, “Thanks.”

Race watches as he seems to go through some internal conflict before stalking off towards the kitchen. A moment later, the microwave starts up.

“Alrighty,” Race mumbles to himself, unmuting the television and picking his spoon back up.

A couple more minutes pass with the remote sounds of Albert putzing around in the kitchen and the narrator’s accented voice droning on. It feels weird to have someone else in the house, but Race shrugs it off. He never loved having roommates, but it was no different than his college days, really. Even though he couldn’t just forget Albert after the year was over. He had to marry the damn guy.

He’s surprised when Albert comes back into the living room and even more shocked when the other end of the couch dips. Glancing over, he finds Albert sitting with his legs tucked underneath him, twirling rice noodles around his fork and staring fixedly at the TV. He forces himself to relax and finish his curry.

They don’t say anything and eventually, Race lets his guard down a little. An indiscernible amount of time passes and the program turns to a show about domesticated hedgehogs and how to care for them.

Race feels himself nodding off, and he’s about to let sleep take him over completely when he feels his bowl being lifted out of his hands. He cracks open an eye in time to see Albert get up and clear their dishes.

He comes back a moment later and looks mildly startled to see Race awake.

“I thought you were out out,” he says, and Race notes that the hostility that’s been ever present since they met is curiously absent.

“I woke up when you took our stuff,” Race admits.

Albert hums and sits back down on the couch, clicking off the TV and bracing his forearms on his knees. He looks like he might want to say something, so Race waits patiently.

“Look,” Albert starts, sounding a little strained, “I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting. I’m not trying to justify my behavior, but this whole,” he gestures a little wildly, “soulmate thing freaks me out and I kinda panicked over it and totally took it out on you even though it’s not in any way your fault and,” he lets out a humorless chuckle, finally looking at Race, “I’m sorry. Really.”

Race offers him a tired, but reassuring smile, “Listen, bud, I’m like half asleep so only, like, a fraction of this conversation is getting comprehended, but it’s okay. I mean, you were an asshole, but I get it. This whole system is fucked.”

Albert laughs for real and Race finds that he likes it. Just a little. He can appreciate a nice laugh, okay?

“Sure is,” Albert agrees.

There’s a pause, but it’s not as charged as before.

“Where did the nickname ‘Race’ come from?”

“Uhhh,” Race yawns, stretching, “I dunno, my little sister always called me that and it stuck?”

“Cool.”

“Yeah.”

Race props his head up on his hand, sleepily watching Albert fidget. Albert seems to sense him staring, because he looks at him again, offering a small smile.

“You’re tired,” he points out uselessly, “you should sleep.”

Race nods, standing, “Yeah, I think I’m gonna,” he starts towards his room, “You should, too.”

Albert salutes him, “I will.”

“Goodnight, Al.”

“‘Night, Race.”

XXX

After their little impromptu apology session, things change between Race and Albert.

They hang out more, heading into the city to browse through museums and stroll aimlessly through Central Park. Albert brings Race to a planetarium and Race, in turn, takes him to an ABT performance at Lincoln Center. It’s nice, Race finds, and his initial opinion of Albert is rapidly changing into something entirely different and ten times more positive.

He discovers that Albert’s favorite ice cream flavor is stracciatella, even though it’s hard to find in the States. Albert tells him that he graduated from Pratt with a film degree and dreams to one day participate in the Sundance Film Festival.

In turn, Race confesses that even though he grew up dancing and always thought he’d be a professional dancer, culinary school had ended up being his calling.

Little things about Albert start to filter into Race’s awareness. Like the way he quirks one side of his mouth a little higher than the other when he laughs, or how he scrunches his nose a little and furrows his eyebrows when he’s filming. He’s got that kind of charming, self-deprecating humor, where he’s always cracking jokes, but only at his own expense, making him approachable and likable. When he’s telling stories, his voice always pitches a little different, captivating whoever’s listening. But when someone else is talking, he gives his full, unwavering attention.

It makes Race feel interesting and important. Like what he has to say matters.

It’s a sunny Friday and the two of them are sitting in a small sandwich shop in Brooklyn. Albert is retelling some ridiculous story about how he got a cab driver to bring him to a veterinarian for free, because he found an injured pigeon. His meatball sub is long since forgotten and Race notices that he has a little sauce on his cheek.

He’s just about to reach out to wipe it off when he realizes it.

He’s kind of in love with Albert Dasilva.

Huh. Crazy.

XXX

“Hey, so I was thinking we could go try out that new bubble tea place over on 14th?”

Race lifts his head from his pillow, blinking blearily at where Albert’s leaning against his doorframe. It’s Saturday and they’d spent the night previous in some club getting spectacularly drunk and naturally, Race is hungover as shit. But Albert doesn’t get hungover, the motherfucker.

He scrubs a hand down his face and Albert watches with a smirk as he struggles to sit up.

“Yeah,” Race says, “Yeah, I’m down, just,” he rolls his stiff neck, wincing as it cracks, “gimme a few minutes to freshen up.”

“No prob,” Albert says, sidling out of the room, “We can grab greasy breakfast for you somewhere as well!”

“You’re a saint!” Race calls back.

A half hour later, they’re bumping shoulders as they venture through The Village, keeping an eye on Albert’s google maps as they look for ‘Bubbleology’, the new fangled cafe Jack and Katherine had been insisting they try.

“So, the Air and Space Museum in DC is having an exhibit on Mars next weekend and I was thinking we could pop down to see it?”

Albert perks up, looking away from his phone to give Race an excited smile, “Really? Wait, how did you know about that and I didn’t?”

Race blushes a little, shoving his hands in his pockets, “It’s your birthday coming up, so I was looking for things to do and...yeah.”

“Aww,” Albert nudges him, but Race can see him flush, “That’s sweet, I’d love to- shit, Race, careful!”

Race gasps, freezing as a car speeds towards him. The only unfrozen part of his mind is screaming that the crosswalk says they can walk, so why isn’t that car fucking stopping and-

He feels a hand grip his bicep, yanking him back towards the sidewalk and all cognition slams back into him as he and Albert fall onto the pavement.

“-Fucking ASSHOLE, watch it!” Albert’s screaming uselessly after the car, but Race isn’t registering it. Not completely anyway.

He takes a moment to assess himself, breathing deeply as he becomes increasingly aware that he almost fucking died, but he didn’t thanks to Albert.

Albert looks down when Race tugs on his sleeve, “Are you okay? Jesus, that was- mmph.”

Race pulls him down, crashing their lips together. For a moment, Albert’s frozen against him, then he relaxes into the kiss, reaching up a hand to cradle Race’s jaw. They kiss for a while, until Race remembers that they’re quite literally sitting in the middle of a sidewalk and pulls away.

Albert opens his eyes, looking slightly dazed, “Whoa.”

Race bites his lip, suddenly unsure, “Sorry?”

“No,” Albert’s eyes widen, “No, don’t apologize, that- no, that was okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Albert says, hoisting Race to his feet and pulling him in for another kiss, “Very okay.”

When they break apart again, they’re both laughing, foreheads resting against one anothers.

“Hey,” Race whispers, waiting until Albert’s eyes meet his to continue, “I like you.”

Albert rolls his eyes, but it’s fond, “I like you, too, dumbass. Maybe those FBI guys actually were onto something.”

Race smiles, goofy and genuine, “Yeah, maybe.”

They stand there for another moment, enjoying each other’s embrace. Then, Albert steps away abruptly, grabbing Race’s hand and pulling him down the street.

“C’mon, I still want bubble tea.”

It’s Race’s turn to roll his eyes, “Idiot.”

“Yeah, butcha love me.”

“You got me there.”

do we want a part 2 with fluffy dating stuff/wedding?

lemme know!

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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#newsies #newsies fic #albert dasilva #racetrack higgins #ralbert #chaotic bois #we lov #lol #okay yeah i posted a fic eee

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emperorthyme · 5 years

Text

voicemail [ ao3 / ff.net ]

you have [5] new messages.

Wednesday, 6:19 p.m.

“Kurapika, hi! It’s Gon! I guess you’re not next to your phone right now, but that’s okay. I just wanted to tell you I kind of…dropped my phone in the lake, so I’m using Aunt Mito’s to call you! I didn’t want you to get worried if you tried my old number and didn’t get an answer. Oh hey, Killua’s here—hey, Ki—wagh—!”

[vague scuffling and cursing]

“Kurapika, hey. It’s Killua. Gon didn’t drop his phone in the lake. He threw it. Like an idiot.”

“Killua, let go of me!”

“He said the bugs we were using weren’t big enough to lure out the really awesome fish, so he used his phone as bait. Like an idiot.”

[more scuffling, a pained grunt, then Gon, breathless]

“It’s shaped like a beetle!”

“Yeah, dummy, but what kind of beetle just sinks to the bottom of the lake?”

[…]

“A heavy one.”

“Anyway, you have to call back at this number to explain to Gon why cell phones aren’t bait.”

[brief pause as Gon silently wrestles the phone back from Killua]

“And you have to tell Killua that he can’t get mad at me just because he was using my phone to play Fortnite.”

[Killua, quietly sobbing]

“I lost everything!”

End of message. To save this message, press 1. To delete, press 2.

[1]

Message saved.

Wednesday, 11:43 a.m.

It’s Mizai. Please return this call when you get a chance, Kurapika. It is important. Please do not delete this message and ignore my texts for eighteen hours like last time.

End of message. To save this—

[2]

Message deleted.

Tuesday, 3:07 a.m.

[sung] Hellooo, Hisoka here. I don’t usually like to leave voicemails, but—

[2]

Message deleted.

Monday, 4:51 p.m.

Kurapika. It’s Leorio. You’re probably not getting these, but…I’ll try again. Last time, your inbox was full. So you must at least be emptying it. Would you check your texts from Cheadle? She’s getting, um. I guess…impatient is as good a word as any. And I know you don’t have to deal with the fallout of that, but I would really appreciate it.

[…]

Anyway. I…hope you’re listening to this. I guess I won’t know if you don’t. That’s…it’s probably better that way.

End of message. To save this message, press 1. To delete, press 2.

[…]

To save this message, press 1. To delete, press—

[1]

Message saved.

Monday, 8:36 a.m.

Hello, it’s Senritsu. I wanted to check in on you this morning. You didn’t seem quite yourself yesterday. Don’t worry. I don’t believe anyone else noticed. It’s only because I know how your heart sounds when…well.

[soft laughter]

Maybe that’s something you don’t really want to hear.

[…]

You have friends, still, Kurapika. Please do not forget that.

End of message. To save this message, press 1. To delete, press 2.

[2]

Message deleted.

You have no new messages. To review saved messages, press *.

[*]

To skip saved messages, press 1. To delete, press 2.

First saved message.

Kurapika! What the hell? September first, right?! I’ve been making excuses to Killua and Gon, but there’s only so much I can bullshit!

[…]

Damn, I could practically hear you contradicting me. See, this is why you need to get your ass over here, because if I start hearing you in my head, that means I’m gonna start sounding like you, and that would be…that would just be hell.

[…]

God, I hope this is the right number.

Second saved message.

Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got back okay to…wherever it is you’re working. Y’know, you could stand to release a little more information about shit like that. Are you a mob boss now? A contract killer? A really fancy babysitter? All three?! Hell if I know!

[muttered] Why did I call?

Oh. Right. I like your friend…Senritsu? She seems very nice, and she’s taken a liking to you for—god, who even knows what reason. But…you should stick around her. And she at least doesn’t seem the type to get into contract killing, so maybe I can write that one off.

[…]

Okay. I already know you’re not gonna call me back, but could you send a text? Oh! I got an idea. Send “A” if you’re alive, and…I guess “D” if you’re not, haha.

[…]

Shit, what a bad joke. Well, at least you probably deleted this message without listening. And if you did, then that’s what you get for letting me leave voicemails instead of just…y’know, picking up. You should do that, by the way. Just in case. N-not for me! But if Gon or Killua calls, you…you should answer, if you can. Okay?

[…]

Um. Sorry, this got…kinda long. Bye.

Third saved message.

Kurapika! I got in! I just got the letter—right now, actually. Holy shit.

[papers faintly rustling]

I…got in. It’s—it’s a really good school. Really expensive too, but...anyway. I’ll worry about that later. Damn, I really got in. I didn’t think...fuck, I was so nervous during the tests and the interviews. You know I don’t even really get nervous like that, haha. I think I ralphed after the last interview. Yeah, I...definitely did. Really hope none of the panelists used that restroom.

[…]

Okay. That’s it. I just thought I’d, uh, let you know. Whatever. You don’t need to congratulate me or anything, I just...wanted to tell you first.

[…]

[muttered] Stupid…

Fourth saved message.

Eyyy…Kuruhp-[hic]-ah…

[there are voices and music in the background, and the creak of a door opening, followed by a loud, irritated exclamation]

Oh fuck! Sorrysorrysorry!

[door slamming]

Shit…just…wanted to find somewhere quiet. I guess they did too. Haha. Oh, I dunno if you heard all that, but I walked in on some people just going to town on each other. I’m at this party. Uh…Zepile told me to come out and celebrate getting accepted into med school but I don’t think this is…really my scene. Kind of over the whole rager part of my life, right?

[…]

Oh yeah, but I did get um…totally shit-faced, haha. I just think…you’d be giving me the nastiest look right about now, and probably thinking, “This guy’s gonna be a doctor someday. He’s gonna handle scalpels.” And then you’d storm out! I’ve been kinda…doing this thing where I try to figure out what you’d be saying if you were here, and I think I’m getting [hic]…pretty good at it.

[…]

Don’t really have any point of reference, though. Because you’re not here.

[…]

Obviously.

[very, very long silence, broken by heavy, staggering breaths]

You ever kissed anyone, Kurapika?

[…]

That’s a stupid question. You’ve probably kissed a lot of people. Who wouldn’t want to kiss you? You’ve got this mouth, and it’s just…it was like kissing was invented because of your mouth. …That make sense?

And I’ve always thought that—uh—kissing is mostly just the introduction. The…appetizer, haha. I’ve just been way more interested in what’s next. But, y’know…Kurapika…I really wouldn’t be thinking that if I got to kiss you. I wouldn’t be thinking about what’s next. I think I’d just be…just be losing my mind that I got to touch you at all, and…and that you weren’t disappearing.

[…]

I’d just…keep kissing you, I think. And that would be it. And…and that would be perfect.

[Leorio chuckles. He starts humming. After about twenty seconds, the humming slips into snores.]

Fifth saved message.

Kurapika, if you’re listening to your messages, Gon is in the hospital.

[…]

It looks bad.

[…]

I hope whatever you’re doing is fucking important.

Sixth saved message.

Okay, do you know how pissed you sound in your voicemail greeting? “You have reached Kurapika. Please leave a message if the nature of your call is urgent.” Who talks like that?

[…]

Damn…I guess I thought that since you actually called me back last time you might start picking up. Clearly that was delusional. Haha. Anyway. You ever see the footage of the election speeches? Killua told me it went viral, but I figured you’ve been too busy to stay on top of all that. You better be sleeping sometimes, though. Or else.

[…]

Well, I guess that was all I got. I need to call Cheadle now…she said it was important, and I really don’t feel like getting barked at all afternoon. Bye!

Seventh saved message.

I’ve called fourteen times in the last half hour, and I will keep it up until you answer, dipshit. Leorio out.

Eighth saved message.

[silence, broken by soft hiccuping]

Kurapika…I miss you. I really miss you. I think about you…too much, and I can’t stop. I know I can’t stop, because I’ve tried to stop and I—I’m thinking about…how your neck would smell. Weird shit like that. Your ears, I…I think about those too, how they look so soft, like fucking…flower petals. You’re the prettiest goddamn person in the world, and I don’t know what to do with that, because you’re also the…the fucking most infuriating bastard I’ve ever met.

[Leorio’s voice is low and wet, he’s crying]

I-I don’t know what you want me to do, except leave you alone, but I can’t do that either, you know I can’t do that…

[quiet rustling, like someone turning over in bed]

You’re not gonna listen to this. You probably just delete all these as soon as you see them. You’re probably like, “God, him again.”

[chuckles, sniffling]

That’s fine. I guess it would make it um, awkward, if you see me again and you’re just, “Yo, what was all that about my neck and ears, pervert?” And then I’d have to explain that I’m in love with you, and…well. I guess that really wouldn’t make it better. Listen, I’m…shit, I’m drunk as hell, haha. Don’t worry…about any of this. Okay? If you’re listening. You’re not, though. You won’t.

That’s good.

[long pause, broken by quiet, irregular breathing]

Goodnight, Kurapika.

End of saved messages.

#scarfwrites #leopika #leopika fanfiction #hxh #hxh fanfiction #sweats in i havent read the manga but this seems like a plausible timeline

449 notes · View notes

tellywoodtrash · 7 years

Text

ishqbaaz 25.09.17 lb

oh NOW om is calling gauri all frantically. asshat.

i’m sorry i just can’t take shivaay seriously in those sunglasses.

greattttttt, phatphati is outta gas or some shit.

suman be like jfc, trusting these two was a baaaaad idea.

this mukhiya is so ridiculouslyyyyyy OTT i can’t even.

OH GOD ANIKAAAAAAAA DON’T SPLIT UPPPP

shivaay’s radar beeping that wife is nearby.

OMG THIS IS THE WORST HIDING I’VE EVER SEEN YOU STUPID GIRLS

ok fwding coz ughhhhhhhhh

mukhiya, those two were on the side of your one good eye. honestly.

ANIKA DON’T BE A DAMN HERO

LORD ABOVE

ok i hate mukhiya so much. someone beat him up. where tf are you, shivKara???

OK FUCK YOU SUMAN THESE TWO PUT THEIR LIVES AT RISK FOR YOU

suman’s dialogue delivery is hella bad

GREAT. anika’s gonna get herself fucking slaughtered at this rate. stand still you idiot girl.

shivKara eavesdropping on these two gundas from like a mile away. in pouring rain. amazing.

lmao listening at the description they’re like YUP. SUCH GANDDDDH CAN BE MACHAOFIED ONLY BY OUR GIRLS.

SLOW MO SWAGGER WALK. impaired by the ankle deep flooding.

pft, first of alllllllllll, so fucking extra, you assholes. secondly, that poem was for bromance purposes. don’t be modifying it for your bs heterosexual relationships.

lmao mukhiya’s second eye is also gone.

ok fwding coz this is hella boring.

ok shivaay, that could be ANYONE’s blood. or does your Awareness™ extend to doing blood typing and DNA testing by eye too?

i’m 1000% here for om’s angsty discovery of gauri’s kapde ka chichdaa tho.

girls, this is india. have you not been living here all this while? don’t you know what the police is like?

“kadak ho ya bhadak, humein isse kaa matlab??” lol

oh great. madamji is here.

oh ho anika baaaat sun toh letiiiiiiiiiiii

LMAO HER NAME IS TAADAKA

fyi: name of a powerful female demon in hinduism, slayed by lord ram.

oh noooooooo. they’re laughing at her name.

oh boy. madamji is like madhusudhan phupa of sarabhai. just the “hein???” is missing.

anika’s miming is hella bad. do not pick her to be on your team for charades.

greattttttttt. both of them have gotten themselves locked up.

lo, suman bhi andar. LOL SHE’S SO CUTE. I LOVE HER FAAAAAAAACE.

shivaay’s like me - sees an unknown number calling and like NOPE IM NOT PICKING THAT UP

i toh don’t pick up known numbers also. like, just don’t call me. i won’t pick up. i hate the phone. just text me like a normal person. (so i can leave you on read.) basically, unless you’re my mom, i’m most probably not going to respond to you. just don’t try to contact me.

SAB PHONE PE HI POOCHENGE KYA, IDHAR NAHI AAYENGE????

snort.

oh ho tyaagi ki bhi badi dukh bhari kahaani hai.

ok literally don’t care about ruvya. fwding the fuck outta them.

shivaay, ouff, must you be such an asshole to all public servants??? like, at least know the scope of your jurisdiction man.

lmao, awaaz neeche, really???? lady, you’re deaf.

lol gauri too appealing to bade bhaiyya, as if her husband standing next to him is invisible.

BAAT BAAT PE HOME MINISTER, JAISE UNKO TOH KOI KAAM HI NAHI HAI, BAS TUM LOGON KA PHONE HI UTHAATE REHNA HAI

OH MY GOD OM IS EVEN MORE TADIBAAZ, HE’S LIKE CALL THE DEFENCE MINISTER, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU IDIOT

aaaaaaaaaaaaand….

yup.

lmaoooooo anika taunting om too.

shivaay’s finally met his tadi match in inspector taaadka.

lol shivaay snarkily asking suman if she’s okay and enjoying, hee hee hee

pffffffffft no jail can contain sassy!kara’s sass.

lol his gesturing at someone to let them go. ugh why is he so damn cuuuuuuuuuuuute??? and look at gauri watching him!

LOCKUP MEIN ROMANCE SUJH RAHA HAI????

please don’t dismiss her billu, tera bas chalta toh you WOULD sex her up here. dadi bhi nahi hai tujhe control karne ke liye.

UGH ANIKA WHY SO CUUUUUUUUTE. i love your damn face so much.

ok fuck his stupidass hand wound. awaiiiii.

lo. ho gaye shuru idhar bhi.

ok stop trying to be all rational and shit here, omkara. you’re wrong. shut up and stand there in your wrongness being wrong.

“gauri, meri baat khatam nahi hui hai.” “lekin humari sehan karne ki shakti khatam ho chuki hai.”

in more ways than one, son. so mind it. she’s thisss 👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽 close to leaving your ass.

OK TEJ IS BEING THE MOST FUCKING EXTRA HE’S EVER BEEN IN HIS LIFE

lmaoooooo all of them gesturing noooooooooooo in the bg. INCLUDING SUMAN.

LOLOLOLOL

aaaaaaaand….

LMAO ANIKA’S DEATH GLARE AND OM’S SIDE EYE AT SHAKTI.

“jab shivaay aur meri nahi chali toh kiski kya chalegi.”

at least this maamle mein tej recognizes that shivaay has more tadi and extraaaa than him.

who will freeee them nowww?????

fwding this ruvya nonsense.

pffffffffffft, everyone’s yelling at anika and gauri.

if she’s deaf, how come she can hear all this???

waaaaaaaaaah. dadi is here to show HER tadi.

lol shivaay guraaaoing in bg “isne DADI ko lock up mein daala toh i’ll SUE this lady.”

anika: simmer down loser, you need to gtfo here to be able to sue her in the first place.

face-off between two badass buddhiyas.

indian judiciary has come down to settling cases by a match of panja. maybe this is how salman khan keeps escaping jail, by beating all the prosecutors in arm wrestling matches.

LMAO THEIR FACES. SP. THE MEN.

oh of course, the old birds are friends.

i want to kiss these two faces. i love them so much.

pfffffffffft, idiots calling out their names as if dadi’s forgotten who they are.

omfg, shivaay adding “sabse chotiiiiii” after gauri yelling her name. #thisBROTPwillKillMeWithFeelz.

how considerate of gauri to intro suman as well.

“tuney inhe andar kyun kiya?” “arre, bolte bohut hai. 😒😒😒😒”

dude i love her. i say we get inspector taadka to move into oberoi mansion. she’ll shut down their nonsense and have that ship sailing smooth in one day flat.

ok, good. suman is safe.

god dafa karooooooo rasmein and just get these little shits married alreadyyyyyyy.

CHUNARI KI RASM. THAANE MEIN. oufffffff. matlab, hadh hai.

billu is ever ready. he don’t give a fuck. he just needs to marry her. who cares where. iska bas chale toh shamshaan ghaat mein bhi shaadi kar le.

wow what even is happening with ruvya? they look close to making out.

they should. it might make them infinitesimally interesting if there was at least some sex to their relationship.

aaaaaaaand they lost me with the close ups of their mouths. fucking whyyyyyyyyyyy are they shot like this??? you don’t do this to shivika and rikara? then why this grossness here???

chalo chaddho, mainu kiii. i don’t even like this pairing.

they literally decorated the thaana. my goddddddddd. these ppl are so fucking extra. inka bas chale toh they’d bring all the fairy lights in oberoi mansion here too.

so just…. fuck jhanvi and pinky, i guess.

can you really blame pinky for feeling left out and hating the rest of them? i don’t. these people are hella insensitive.

PFT. BILLU. IDIOT.

ALSO OUFF OMKI WHY SO CUTE?????? BUT ALSO WTF IS THAT WEIRD PIC BEHIND YOU????

lol inpector taadka truly is dadi’s friend. she’s like DOOOR HATT!!!!!!

pft is this photobaaazi necessary?

ring ceremony bhi baaki hai aaj, oufff.

so, did shivaay buy that stupidass persian emperor ring or what?

ugh ruvya nonsense. isse achcha toh meri svetlana ko dikhaate.

OMFG RUDRA JUST SAID AAPKI UMAR MEIN OPTIONS KAM HOTE HAI…. I WANT TO….

FUCK HIM UPPPPPPPPPP BHAVYAAAAAAAAAAA.

ok you know what, fuckkkkkkkkk this guy. honestly. fuck him to fuck. i still love him as a brother and devar and all, but he honestly sucks in literally every other dept.

i’m kinda glad sumo escaped him while she could. i now envision her living her best life with a hot surfer nerd in australia.

yesssssssss, manav’s here! fuck youuuu rudra!

manav is looking more and more handsome to me. esp since rudra is fucking ugly on the inside.

wait why the water wars tomorrow????

ew that ring is fug.

#ishqbaaaz #ishqbaaz #ib episode liveblogs #episode liveblogs #250917 ib lb

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