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lovingperfectionwonderland · 2 years

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pyaar karte the saajna. -karman-

i am absolutely, a-b-s-o-l-u-t-e-l-y gone for kartik & as a ritual, we fanfic writers make our beloved folks suffer :)

⚊ ⚊ 🌟 ⚊ ⚊

kartik had known, from the very start, aman wasn't the one to flaunt their relationship all-around.

considering the situation, and the homophobia that was very prevalent in the country— he always nudged aman to let lose, to let go, and somewhere, deep down, muffled and repressed was the ever-present need of kartik.

the hope that one day, aman will proudly hold his hand. that one day, his aman will stand up for them, stand up for their love.

despite it all, kartik understood— all of aman's hesitations, his cover-ups, his refusal. it was alright, because the moment they'd enter their home, aman would shed all his paranoia and be himself.

the night where kartik first got to know how shameless the shorter man could really be, ended with him being spooned from behind, limbs aching and lovebites littered all over his body, lips swollen and red.

his heart had thumped loudly that night, next to aman's light snores, when even in sleep, aman tightened his grip around kartik, almost as if scared, that he'd disappear.

the small hope bloomed again, the stupid wish of being able to flaunt his lovebites— to scream at the world, he was aman's, and aman was his.

looking back now, kartik's heart clenches painfully, a sob bubbling up his throat as he wishes to repeatedly smack himself — the tears fall as if does so, repeating to himself, angrily,

"gadha hai tu, gadha. kyu vishwas kiya uspe? kyu umeed ki, ki ek dinn voh teri side lega, sabke samne. kyu?"

that's how he falls asleep that night, muffled sobs by his crumpled up pride flag— kartik's heart aches as he remembers aman hanging them up all around their home during pride month.

he curses himself again, for being so stupid, holding the pride flag tighter under the unrelenting cold and the dim moonlight, limbs hurting to move. tears fall down, as he wishes he'd just forget.

forget aman, his love, his devotion, his affection, his everything — how aman made kartik feel seen, understood and loved.

forget all those nights they spent together in their bedroom beneath the twinkling fairy lights — "accha lagega yaar aman! dekh na, kitna romantic lagta hai!" kartik had said, in hopes of pursuing aman to let him decorate the bedroom — he wanted to forget all of it.

every night, morning, spent under the covers, aman's hand in his, aman's lips pressed sweetly against his, as a 'good morning'

despite all his failed attempts, kartik still hoped, that in the middle of this cursed night, aman would show up — would silence all his worries and his pain — every clack against the metal doors, every hallucination of a footstep, every crackle in the night, he hoped— and for the first time, aman didn't show up.

kartik fell asleep, exhausted, tear stains on his cheeks, angry curses at himself in his mind, and his heart? it longed for aman to come and hold him tight.

⚊ ⚊ 🌟 ⚊ ⚊

aman, who had locked himself in his bedroom, refused to listen, to come out at the request of his mom.

he didn't care, he couldn't care — all he wanted was to go to kartik, say sorry for how miserably he'd failed them, their love, and beg for forgiveness.

aman waited impatiently, feet tapping continuously against the floors as he paced around. his mind was flooded with kartik — his jaan — being beaten up ruthlessly by his father.

aman scoffed at his thought. father? which parent would beat their kid's innocent lover? no matter how baffling it was — how could he even think of that?

aman deflated as he thought of what he'd said, in a flurry of emotions, "ab hilna mat yaha se." maybe kartik would have made a run, like aman so desperately wanted him to, at the time, but he, himself was angry at kartik — but more so at everything that had transpired.

his family would never change, he knew. that's why he denied to ever let kartik come near them, his paranoia came out to be true.

when it finally hit 4am in the morning, aman slowly opened the lock to his door, cautiously stepping out incase chacha or his parents had been waiting outside all night, knowing he'd come out — for kartik.

he was met with silence, a lightening up sky. aman wrapped his arms around himself at the cold air that greeted him, washing away all the tiredness he held. there was still a lingering worry, where was kartik?

the man looked around, cautious of not alerting anyone — as he climbed down the stairs, footsteps light — he felt like a outsider in his own home.

he wasn't sure if it was home anymore — aman sighed. then, he saw kartik — laying dead asleep in the charpai that had been around before he had even been born into the household.

a snippet of life came back to him — his father cradling his head in his arms, as they both lay together under the stars, in the summer that made it impossible to sleep inside the rooms, which would grow unbearably hot.

aman would cry because he couldn't sleep — and then shankar tripathi would take him out to the angaan, point to all the stars and lull him to sleep.

now, years after, he sees the love of his life lay there, tears stained in his cheeks, curled in, nothing but a pride flag covering him in a meek offer to protect him from the harsh cold all night long.

aman feels his heart break, and the urge to run away washes over him, again. just as it had did all his life — the urge to run, to cower, to buy some more time because he'd never been brave enough, never been strong enough.

he fights it this time, each step he takes towards kartik, and not away from him — just as he had done not even a day ago. he should've been there, if nothing, atleast been there and gotten beaten with kartik instead of leaving him alone.

kneeling down, once he is close enough, he sits there — lost on what to do. is he even worth touching the man anymore? would kartik like it, for his coward of a boyfriend to return after everything has been done?

his mind screams at him to not to, but aman does it anyway, helpless infront of the face which had been there, holding his hand and providing him strength every step on the way, whenever his legs wobbled.

raising a slightly trembling hand, aman brushes away the stray locks which had been ruffled — no longer gelled upwards. his hand cups the latter's face, heart in his throat as he grows anxious, fingers tapping against the limp cheeks, which once would've been smiling even in their sleep.

"kartik?" aman calls out, hushed and urgent, as he shakes him more violently. his heart thuds in his chest as he feels himself go numb, urgency washing away his rationality as he grabs just where kartik had been bruised—

resulting in kartik yelping awake, a frown taking over as he pushes away the hand who'd pressured the dark red wound— in the shape of a lathi.

aman deflates, whispering a "sorry" as he waits for kartik to regain his consciousness and understand it's him.

he sees the exact moment kartik looks up, from where he'd been consolingly rubbing his wound to calm the pain down — into his eyes. aman's heart cracks abit more as he sees kartik avert eye contact, the eyes which once wouldn't leave his, now refusing to meet his.

gathering courage, and abit of the lost strictness, he says, "chal uth. mere room chal, waha pe so." and gets up, hands rubbing themselves nervously on his pants.

"nahi jana mujhe. mein ja rha hu delhi, tu apne kusum ke saath karlio happy ending." kartik sounds defeated, disappointed and most scariest of all — void of the fighting spirit he always had. even when aman chided him for his childish ways.

aman begins to feel frustrated tears well up, he says, begs — "nahi karni shaadi. tu chal, tu kahi nhi ja rha."

kartik still hasn't looked at him, he notes with a crushed spirit. he wants to reach out, so badly, grab kartik and shove in the fact that without kartik, aman would be nothing but a lifeless soul.

"kartik," aman pleads, desperation wearing him out as he grabs the taller's face, forcing him to look into aman's eyes. his beard pricks his palms, a rush of nostalgia leave aman breathless.

how many times have they done this?

he lets out a choked out sound when he sees kartik on the verge of tears— they fall down as he closes his eyes, unwilling to make eyecontact still.

"kartik yaar," aman pleads again, more desperate, "mat kar esa mere saath. terko pata hai na—" he's cut off by the other. kartik speaks, his voice a gruff rumble, parched because he hasn't spoken since hours more than usual.

its frustrated, tired and so unlike kartik's usual cheery voice, his blinding smile that would make aman fall in love all over again.

"nhi kar sakta mein yeh sab, aman." he says, defeat evident in his voice as his hands place themselves over aman's, squeezing it tightly. aman's heart soars at the small touch.

"tu hai mera baby strongest. mein nhi ban sakta strong — mein nhi dekh sakta terko uss kiran ke saath—"

"kusum hai uska naam, kartik"

he lets out a groan in protest— "nhi farak padta mujhe kya hai uska naam. mein ja rha hu delhi, happy married life." he says resolutely, hands pulling away from where they were interwined with aman's.

"bolne dega mujhe ki bas khudki bolke bhagna hai?"

kartik stills, eyeing him suspiciously before he sighs, rolling his eyes. "bol. aur agar tune wapas shaadi ki bakwas ki toh mein ja rha, wapas mudd ke dekhunga tak nhi."

he knew that was a lie, aman knew it was a lie. aman pretended as if though it wasn't — and continued, hands snaking around kartik's neck.

the shorter pulls him close— foreheads touching. for a moment, kartik wishes to resist — wishes that he had the strength to walk away and not listen to what the other had to say.

he never had the strength, not today, not yesterday, never.

so he listens, forehead against aman's and feels a weight lift off his shoulders. aman is gentle with his hands, running them down his back, as he impossibly steps in closer, until he's stopped by the charpai and kartik is doused in aman's scent.

"sun ab, meri baat," aman demands, voice soft as he stares into the depths of kartik's soul. kartik hides them away, again, afraid he'd let out the pain he acted obvious to.

aman, staring into the closed eyes of his lover, begins— knowing kartik is listening.

he knows he's risking so much, doing this out in the tripathi angaan, where any moment someone might wake up, or worse, set out searching for him.

but as aman takes in kartik's form, hands settled on his bare back, where lathi marks are still visible — he desperately wishes he could erase them all and mark kartik with his love instead.

wishes. that's all he's done, wished for this, wished for that, wished for a happy ending with kartik. he realises this now— in the most unconventional way possible, you have to act in order to fulfill your wishes.

"pyaar karta hu tujhse mein. pagal sa ho jata hu jab tujhse baat nhi hoti, ya jhagda lag jata hai—"

"toh fir aaya kyu nhi, mujhe tere baap ke lathi se bachane?" kartik quips up, eyes opening and instantly locking with aman's intense ones. he loses his breath seeing aman upclose after so long, eyes immediately falling shut.

"darr gaya tha mein. samaj nhi aaya kya karta — ek taraf mera sperm donor," aman pauses, fighting the urge to kiss the shy smile that takes over kartik's face as he speaks, "aur ek taraf tu, meri jaan."

another sigh.

"nhi kar rha kusum se shaadi. ha, hai galti meri, par kya karta yaar kartik. jo teri safety ke liye sahi laga, voh kiya meine." he prays kartik understands— hears and sees the genuineness in his being.

"humesha se bhaagte hi aaya hu, kabhi himat nhi mili ye sab karne ki. par aaj samaj aaya, mere baap ki maar toh choti kimat hai tere pyaar ke liye."

aman barely speaks over a whisper, words he'd wished to keep inside spilling away in the face of the vulnerability kartik shows as he listens to aman.

"kaha jayega mujhe leke?"

aman grins, eyes crinkling up as he plants a kiss on the latter's lips— for the first time, uncaring of who sees.

he feels as if he can breathe properly again. kartik gave him a chance at redemption. he's not going to miss any of it.

"chal mere saath, mere room mein. baki jo karna hai mein karunga."

━ ━ 🌟 ━ ━

a/n: my usual tags won't be here cuz it's not a rrr fic. worry not people, still as obsessed with rambheem.

but, karman deserve love as well 💓✋🥺 will be posted in my ao3 account soon.

lmk if u wanna be tagged in my karman fics.

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lovingperfectionwonderland · 2 years

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SHUBH MANGAL ZYADA SAAVDHAN (2020) dir. Hitesh Kewalya Aman and Kartik, a gay couple living in Delhi, have their relationship discovered when attending Aman’s cousin’s wedding and try to convince Aman’s family to accept them as they are while the man’s parents try to marry him off to a woman.

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lovingperfectionwonderland · 2 years

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In this also they need to play politics, first gully boy nd now this ,like this india will never win an oscar

So apparently RRR is not being sent as an entry for the Oscar’s. How we feeling tumblr?

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lovingperfectionwonderland · 2 years

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Hey rrr fandom. Im sorry I was away from the fandom for a while. So I couldn't comment or like much of your amazing stuff. There has been a tragedy in the family and went through a very difficult time of my life. But some times I opened Tumblr and saw some of your amazing work. You all really don't know what great work you all are doing. Most of your works had brought smile to my face when I went through a bad face. Thank you so much all of you for being here in this fandom.

@bromance-minus-the-b @rambheem-is-real @eremin0109 @thewinchestergirl1208 @eenadu-varthalu @rorapostsbl @budugu @the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see @fadedscarlets @foxglovedforest @jeonmahi1864 @kafkaesquebestie @hufhkbgg @how-is-it-in-london @hissterical-nyaan @fangirlshrewt97 @juhiiiiii @justmeand-myinsight @kalavathiii @kookiries @itsfookingloosah @lovingperfectionwonderland @mizutaama @rambheemisgoated @reallythoughtfulwizard @rosayounan @rambheem @iam-siriuslysher-lokid l

#rrr #rambheem #ram charan #ntr jr #rrr movie #tarak #charak #bheem #jr ntr

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lovingperfectionwonderland · 2 years

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Tale As Old As Time...(Part 11)

Oh my gosh, my beloved readers. I am astonished by myself. I have written approximately 35k in the span of 11 days. That is… insane. And I am exhausted. Plus real life is knocking at my door. So with your permission, I would like to ask for a break.

It will give me time to figure out exactly where I am going with the story. And don’t worry, even if there aren’t any new chapters, I will still post other stuff related to TAOAT. Because you guys are the best and the wind in my sails. I will return, but give me some 7-10 days to catch my breath.

I have decided to break the story down into “Acts”. This part can be considered the end of Act 1, so you don’t feel I am leaving you in a cliffhanger.

If you have been falling behind or want to catch up, the link to the full work on Ao3 is here.

(Previous Chapter)

///

“Maharaj.” Kala Bhairava gasped.

“I thought you said you wo-wouldn’t stab me with these daggers, Kala Bhairava.” Jai purred as he pressed the man more firmly into the wall.

“I…” Kala Bhairava gasped.

Jai leaned in till they were chest to chest, one of his legs in between Kala Bhairava’s. He rested his forehead against Kala Bhairava’s feeling his chest clench as Kala Bhairava’s eyes fluttered shut, his eyelashes nearly brushing Jai’s cheeks.

“Drop the dagger Kala Bhairava,” there was a thump as the blade hit the floor. Jai bared his teeth into a smile, “Good boy.”

Kala Bhairava whimpered.

Jai dug his fingers deeper, making the man squirm, eyes scrunching tighter.

There was a flash of lightning, leaving the whole room painted in silver for a minute. Thunder rolled in the distance. In the room, the sound of two heartbeats pounding echoed in the ears of their respective owners.

A drop of water fell on Kala Bhairava’s throat. Another on his collarbone. He hissed at the cold shock, eyes popping open. He gasped. “Maharaj! You’re soaking!”

Jai was. He could feel his feet squelching in his wet slippers, the water seeping into his head from his wet hair. Could feel it in the uncomfortable press of his kurta against his chest, and his pyjamas to his thighs.

“Got caught in the rain.”

Kala Bhairava started and squirmed some more. “Come on, let me get you some towels, you’ll get sick if you stay in those wet clothes.”

And Jai…Jai wanted him. More than the cold seeping into his skin, the fire of Kala Bhairava warmed him from the inside out. He could feel it spreading from his center, and he wanted to keep going. Wanted to press his lips to that throat, run his hands under that tunic, see what other delicious little noises he could elicit from Kala Bhairava.

“No.”

“Maharaj.” Kala Bhairava said sharply, jerking in Jai’s gasp again. “Let go of me.”

Jai let him go. He didn’t move back.

Keep reading

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lovingperfectionwonderland · 2 years

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Season 2 episode 1

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lovingperfectionwonderland · 2 years

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This has my whole heart ❤️

No plot for this edit only vibes

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lovingperfectionwonderland · 2 years

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Ahhhhhh what a ride it is😍

harmony of difference / / / vi. truth

thank you all for your patience and enthusiasm, it really was a pleasure to write this for you and i hope you enjoyed it. every like and comment makes me so happy. special thanks to @burningsheepcrown for all the beautiful art and allowing me to add her pieces to the fic. thanks to @rambheem-is-real for inspiring me with her infectious works. finally, thanks to yung tiger and cherry for being born. i love you all. onto the next fic…

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lovingperfectionwonderland · 2 years

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This is so cute 😍

Come Rest Your Weary Head (Part 1)

Hi guys! Real life sucks right now, and I have like 5 different fics that are in various stages of completion. Including this one, but it is a 5+1 fic, so I thought I would post the sections as they got finished.

This particular section was partially inspired by one of @burningsheepcrown’s delightful little doodles. I hope you like it!

///

Bheem was enjoying the cool wind caressing through his curls, a welcome change to the stifling heat that had taken over the city.

Bheem had been frustrated with how unsuccessful he had been with getting more information regarding Malli’s whereabouts, frustration which was compounded by Lacchu still having to lie low for fear of a police officer who was out to get them. He had needed to get out of the city, especially when he saw that his bad mood was also affecting Jangu and Peddaina. He needed them to believe in their cause, if they all gave up hope, then Malli would truly be lost.

Getting on his bike, he had driven to Ram’s home without thinking about it, the path imprinted into his brain after only a few weeks. Much like everything about that man, some greater force that kept pulling them back together.

As expected, Ram was pacing in his room like a caged tiger. Bheem knew the man had some worry of his own that he was not able to resolve, and he wanted to ask Ram to share his troubles. They worked so well together, maybe if they could share their problems, they could figure out a solution together. If only the stakes were not so high for Bheem.

He managed to convince Ram to come with him for a bike ride, with only a minimal amount of cajoling involved. Bheem would guess it had to do with the half glazed eyes that indicated Ram was not actually fully aware despite standing up right.

Keep reading

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lovingperfectionwonderland · 2 years

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Beautiful ❤️

Peace (RamxBheem)

Summary: Bheem suddenly decides to takes Ram to his house for a meal, but there's no one home...

A/N: this is gonna be all over the place, so get ready.

Bheem loved having Ram around. He loved each and every glance they passed between each other. And most importantly, he loved to see Ram at his home.

He didn't know why, but just having him in the comfort of his home, washed in the colors of his lights, it all gave him butterflies and a sense of peace. Something about Ram sitting with him on his floor, something about the way his eyes eagerly soaked everything up.

Suddenly an idea popped into his head as he made his way to Ram's house. Why not invite him for lunch?

»»——⍟——««

They were driving around the city, and the bike bent low at a sharp turn. Ram tightened his grasp on Bheem's shoulder. The days had been getting hotter and hotter with the onslaught of summer, and though it was to be expected, they left Ram sweating and yearning for every single gust of wind that kissed his skin.

He leaned over the other to meet the wind halfway. "Gir jaoge anna, " (You'll fall anna) Bheem said, stifling a laugh. There were stars in his eyes, and he looked like he wanted to burst into song right then and there. His curly hair framed him like a halo, one that he wanted to run his fingers through.

Ram couldn't discern how Bheem managed to be so easy-going and happy in the weather that made him want to rip his hair out. While managing to look so damn good too.

He doesn't think much about the smile that's plastered on his own face though. Because maybe, just maybe, he wanted to burst into song too. Only because Bheem had looked at him with his honey-like eyes. And perhaps he couldn't suppress the giddiness that overtook him.

But he would rather hide in his home than ever admit that to himself. There was no way someone as trusting and kind as Bheem could ever love someone as heartless as him. It would be extremely naive of him to have hope. So he greedily consumed every single second and soaked in every single smile the other threw his way like it was the very last.

The sun was almost blinding them, and Ram held a hand up to shade his eyes. "Tum hona, bacha loge", (You'll be there to save me) he replied.

Bheem's eyes crinkled as he grinned, and swerved the bike a bit too low to catch Ram off-guard. As a result, Ram crashed onto Bheem's back and gripped his shoulder harder. He wanted to pretend to be annoyed at that, but he just couldn't stop the giggle that swept him up.

So instead he decided to lightly hit Bheem's shoulder. "Tumhe bachana h, girana nahi" (You have to save me, not make me fall)

Bheem gave an amused chuckle, "acha bhai, aaj mere ghar khane chalna h?" (Do you want to come over at my house today to eat?) He asked. Ram had always loved being at Bheem's house. It had so much warmth to give, something Ram's own home lacked heavily. And as he said, he was greedy for Bheem. All that he knew about him, it never seemed enough. Somehow he always wanted to know more.

The answer to Bheem's question was almost a reflex.

»»——⍟——««

They parked the motorbike and headed up the stairs. Bheem fidgeted with his hands in anticipation and nervousness. He looked behind to ensure Ram was following him and tossed him an anxious smile.

He couldn't help but chase Ram's eyes like a kid who'd had his first taste of sweets. His dark eyelashes and shy smile, they were all he dreamt about nowadays.

Truly, he couldn't wait for Ram to try his Ammi's korma. She wasn't his real mother by any means, but she worried for him just enough to become like one. And he couldn't be more grateful for that.

"Is taraf Ram, " (This way Ram), he said over his shoulder to the other, who was trailing close behind him.

He thought he saw Ram's cheeks go redder before turning around, but chalked it up to the heat.

Bheem pushed the green door, holding it open with eager hands. He couldn't shake the smile on his face for the life of him, and he didn't want to either.

Ram tried not to let his cheeks go redder than they already were at Bheem waiting for him to enter first. He'd called him by his name.

It did things to Ram he couldn't explain.

He navigated his way to the inside of the house as if it was his own.

The light green walls, the dark green windows, the brown ornaments, and the moon and star adornments on the walls, it was all so familiar, all so full of Akhtar.

They left him in a state of peace and joy he'd long forgotten.

The silence of the walls was only interjected by the gentle song of a mayna (a type of bird) outside, and the distant shouts of Akhtar searching for his family.

Ram furrowed his eyebrows.

Wait.

Silence?

In all of Ram's time here, he'd never heard silence quite this loud. Normally it was filled with Bheem's ammi cooking, his sister reading namaz, his abba reciting a poem to them all.

But today, it was none of it.

He frowned, worry creeping it's way up his spine. His guard was back on, and for just a moment he believed the worst.

Ram had made himself like that, the one to think of every negative possibility in a fraction of a second. He couldn't help it.

Paranoia, it kept him alive. But it also meant he never felt free.

He was about to start looking for clues when Bheem came running to him, a piece of paper clasped in his hands. "Anna sab log bahar kisi kaam se gaye hue h, " (Anna everyone has gone out to do some work) He stated.

Ah.

Ram let his shoulders relax. It's fine, everything was fine.

A deep breath.

Another.

Bheem held a question in his eyes, asking what happened. Ram just shook his head and assured the other he was fine, and asked him to continue.

"Ammijan mere liye ek thali khana bana kar gayi h, par mujhe jada bhookh nahi h, abhi tumhare liye nikal ke deta hoon" (Ammijan had made a plate of food for me, but I'm not that hungry, I'll just go and get it for you) He continued before heading to the kitchen with the most caring smile on his face.

Ram tried to stop him, but Bheem was already moving. He grasped the other's arm, halting him in his way. "Agar tum nahi khaoge, to main kaese khaun?" (If you won't eat, then how can I?) He questioned with concern, cradling genuine care in his eyes.

Bheem tried to shake him off, but Ram persisted. He loved how selfless he was, but sometimes he neglected his own self a bit too much in the process. And Ram's heart ached at that.

How was he supposed to eat Bheem's share?

"Ammi tumhare liye bana ke gayi thi, me kaese kha loon? " (Ammi made it for you, how can i eat it?)

"Lekin tumhe to yaha me leke aaya hoon, bhukhe kaise jaane de sakta hoon bhai? " (But i brought you here, how can I let you go hungry?)

Ram contemplated that for a moment. He knew he couldn't convince the other. They were both as stubborn as they came. So he settled for the next best thing.

"Thik h, adha tera, adha mera," (Fine, half is yours, half is mine)

He stopped Bheem before he could protest, and tugged him towards the kitchen.

Above all, Ram had to admit the korma looked and smelled amazing. He gazed up at the other, who was arranging the rotis on the plate. He was standing beside the lamp mounted on the wall. It emitted a yellow light that made Bheem look ethereal.

His curly hair was perfectly lit by it, so much so that he looked godly. Bheem's kurta was the lightest shade of sage green, and he would've looked like he belonged wholly, if not for the broadness of his shoulders and set of his arms.

Ram couldn't explain it, but Bheem always seemed to carry an unreal amount of strength in him, behind that sheer piece of fabric.

A strength that beckoned him to come closer and wrap his arms around him.

Ram felt the tips of his ears go warm. What has gotten into him lately?

"Anna khana lag gaya, kaha khoe hue ho?" (Anna the food is ready, where are you lost?) Bheem asked, there was a hint of a sly smile gracing his lips.

Opening his mouth would be futile. So playfully smacked his shoulders and laughed with him when he acted like it hurt.

They finished eating on the floor, and Ram got up to wash the dishes.

Bheem watched him with a smile. Ram looked so free, now that there was no one here but them. The privacy was so sweet, so addicting. He yearned for it.

The sun had settled below now, taking it's glaringly heat along with it. The maina outside has also quietened now, as if it also wanted to observe Ram in his moment of peace.

It was so rare to see that. He was always laughing or smiling with Bheem, but these moments, the ones where the world stood still in Ram's perspective, and he looked ever so contempt; they were precious, and Bheem cradled them in his heart like a newborn.

"Koi madat chahiye?" (Do you need any help?) He asked the other.

Ram looked up at him with a grin, and splashed him with soapy water.

There was a challenge in his eyes Bheem was happy to accept.

»»——⍟——««

They were lying on Bheem's bed now, staring up at the ceiling with tired eyes. Ram didn't know how they ended up here. Somewhere along the way they'd gotten tired after cleaning up, and headed to Bheem's room to look for something. He couldn't remember what for the life of him.

Ram couldn't help but be overcome by emotion.

Peace.

He was at peace.

He couldn't help but wonder. Is this what it would be like to live with Bheem? To wake up beside his everyday?

He got choked up, and he didn't know why. There was something in his heart that was crying for it, begging for it.

Something that he had buried the day his father died. The day he had to shoot him.

He wanted to stay in this moment forever, even though he knew it couldn't last.

Ram looked over at Bheem, only to find him fast asleep. His mouth was slightly opened, and one of his arms was holding on to Ram's waist. His hair was wet.

Oh.

Towel. They'd been looking for a towel.

His stomach grumbled for more food.

A gentle smile made it's way to his lips. And his heart seemed lighter.

He should probably leave now, he thought. The Gond leader was somewhere out there waiting for him.

But he couldn't help but steal a few more minutes of this heaven.

Just a few more...

»»——⍟——««

Bheem woke up to the sound of his family coming back home and Ram clinging to him in his deep sleep.

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

A/N: That's it my lovelies 🥺✨

There was a lot of different endings I had thought of, but it kind of just wrote itself 😅

It's just a casual insight into their lives, and a bit of dumbfucks who don't know they're in love yet

I know it's nothing special but do tell me your own ideas and whether you liked it or not!

@kookiries @rambheem-is-real @fangirlshrewt97 @burningsheepcrown @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @floating-mushroom @fadedscarlets @hufhkbgg @connerwrites @rorapostsbl @kashti15 @ronaldofandom @aasthuu @pine-breeze @ronnoxandlumoss @bromance-minus-the-b @obsessedtoafault @percikawantstoread @tulodiscord @rambheemisgoated @dumdaradumdaradum

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lovingperfectionwonderland · 2 years

Text

Beautiful 😍😍😍

not me putting my wips on hold cuz life is hectic and then starting new fics to cope with life being hectic 😭 for @burningsheepcrown cuz i promised a new fic last week but failed to deliver :')

it's my headcanon that ammi and abbajaan's daughter ships rambheem. i feel like she's got this knowing smile when she's around them. so here's a short fic based on that idea. i don't think she has a name in the film so i looked up one- Aiza! it means noble in urdu. Akhtar and Aiza <3

Happy endings

Aiza's eyes come to a halt at the last word of the novel she's reading. She closes the book and let's out a satisfied sigh, savouring the feeling of finishing an imaginary journey she enjoyed every minute of. She can't stop replaying the last scene in her head. The fairytale-like finale had her heart squeezing in the sweetest of ways. There's nothing quite like a love story with a happy ending.

Thoughts wandering, she can't help but think of the day when her own romance begins. Call her silly but she wants a love like in the books. She hopes that someday she can marry the man of her dreams.

But before she can get married though, her Bhaiya needs to get married. Akhtar might not be related to her by blood but he's the brother she's always wished for. So she prays that he gets his forever after with a lovely lady who thinks of him as the centre of her universe. She knows he will, there's no one who can resist his charms.

As she sits looking out of the window from her diwan seat with a smile she can't suppress, she's distracted from her thoughts by a familiar sound. It's the engine of Akhtar's motorcycle. Her eyes dart to the end of the street and sure enough, Akhtar comes into view a second later, his bike turning around the corner to their street.

Aiza notices the hand first. It's slung casually over Akhtar's shoulder, like it belongs there. She follows it to the stranger sitting behind Akhtar. He's a handsome man (although not as handsome as her brother) but what strikes her about him is the liberty and ease in his body language as he all but hugs Akhtar. It's as if he's known him his entire life.

The bike slowly comes to a stop in front of the gate and the man gets down. Akhtar follows suit and they both stand there, neither caring about anything other than the person in front of them, continuing whatever discussion they were having earlier.

Aiza can faintly hear fragments of their conversation but she's too focused on the man to pay attention to anything else. Now that she can see him clearly, she knows for a fact that she's never come across him before. Who is he?

She frowns, shifting her attention to her brother as he chats animatedly with the other man. He's regaled her with enough tales in the past few months so she's all too familiar with the engrossed look and the wide smile on his face as he entertains the stranger with his anectodes. What she isn't familiar with though is the way he's looking at the man.

Aiza always thinks Akhtar has really expressive eyes. Every emotion of his is reflected in them. She's seen kindness, gratitude, pain, anger, worry and much more there. But she's never seen this particular sentiment. This feeling of.. what?

As soon as the question crosses her mind, it hits her. Raju. The man that Akhtar has been talking about for the past two weeks. His Anna. This must be him.

Aiza stares, feeling surprised. Her brother did mention -at every opportunity he got- about how much he enjoyed spending time with his Anna but she'd expected an older man going by his honorific, not someone so young. What's even more unexpected is that they've grown so close in such a short span of time.

As she studies the man, she's startled by the realisation that whatever is reflected in her brother's eyes is mirrored in his. It's more subtle on his part though, there's a gentleness there that seems to be reserved exclusively for the man in front of him. If there's the spark of a burning fire in Akhtar's eyes, there's the serenity of tranquil waters in Raju's.

Aiza is suddenly reminded of the lovers in her book. She blinks, the thought that's been swimming in her subconscious surfacing to the forefront.

They are in love.

She feels stunned. The idea seems like an absurd joke her brain has cooked up. There's no way that's possible. They're just really close friends. Right?

But the more she looks at the them, the more she's convinced that friendship doesn't cover what they seem to have. There's something so intimate, so personal, about their interaction.

It's not just the way they're looking at each other. Everything about them conveys what they haven't voiced yet. They're not standing particularly close, they aren't even touching each other, but despite that, there's a harmony in their movements that looks like a synchronised dance they aren't aware of themselves.

Aiza has encountered many love stories in the pages of her books. Some were short and sweet, some went on and on and ended as tragedies, some were set in palaces and yet others were set in slums. But if there's one thing they had in common, it's that they weren't real.

Before she knows it, there's a smile playing on her lips. The two people standing outside are nothing like the characters from any story she's ever read. But what they share is nothing less than the love she's come to understand.

As she gazes at them, she has a feeling that theirs is a bond that's going to withstand the test of time. She should know, she's something of an expert when it comes to romance, if she does say so herself.

She's brought out of her thoughts when Raju bids goodbye. Akhtar looks surprised. She can hear him inviting the man in but he refuses with a panicked look, telling Akhtar that he's going to come over the weekend with his Babai. Aiza chuckles. So he wants to make a good impression, huh?

She watches him cross the street and walk away, turning around at the end of the street to wave again. Akhtar stands in front of the house, waving back till he disappears from sight. When he finally moves from his spot and pushes the bike into the house to park it, he's smiling from ear to ear.

Aiza's heart fills with warmth and for some reason, she feels emotional all of a sudden. She prays that Akhtar gets his forever after with the man who thinks of him as the centre of his universe.

After all, there's nothing quite like a love story with a happy ending.

hope this turned out okay! (now i wanna write a fic where Ram and Ammijaan interact!!)

@thewinchestergirl1208 @irisesforyoureyes @rambheem-is-real @eremin0109 @eenadu-varthalu @rorapostsbl @anyavaramyr @yehsahihai @voidsteffy @budugu @burningsheepcrown @chaotic-moonlight @the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see @alien-chicken-baby @rasnak2 @darlingletshurttonight @fadedscarlets @foxglovedforest @jeonmahi1864 @kafkaesquebestie @hufhkbgg @how-is-it-in-london @idk-abt-life @hissterical-nyaan @maraudersbitchesassemble @fangirlshrewt97 @juhiiiiii @justmeand-myinsight @kalavathiii @kookiries @itsfookingloosah @tulodiscord @lovingperfectionwonderland @mizutaama @mikabilis @seherie @rambheemisgoated @rosayounan @percikawantstoread @obsessedtoafault @neurobivergent @dumdaradumdaradum @stanleykubricks @rambheemlove @jjwolfesworld @alikokinav @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @ronaldofandom

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