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#Ishan Kishan
hum-suffer · 3 months
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I'm Yours 5
Ishan curses the moment he has sober thoughts back in his head, that is, the next morning. He slept through his alarm and has less than half an hour to get ready and not be late to college so he stores any and all thoughts away as he carefully puts down the gajra from his wrist and onto the dining table before running around his house like a headless chicken.
His day proves to be even more trying, as news reaches the college that the university is going to host an organisation for cultural events and as the manager, Ishan is supposed to coordinate at least the engineering department. He couldn't have had a weirder week.
He almost snaps at a student when they ask him for important questions but at the last moment manages to hold his tongue and instead give them a later date for such a discussion. He has a lot on his plate already, and them asking for important questions almost a month before the exam is literally not helping him.
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It happens when Ishan enters Virat's office, to borrow his copy of Rashmirathi. Virat bhaiya seems to be talking to someone on his phone, a video call.
He beams when he sees Ishan. "Arre, Ishan! I was just talking about you. You should take more holidays too, baba, you look so rested."
It's the effect of mind numbing alcohol after my stalker became a cock block, he wants to say. Instead, he snorts,"Wow, call me out on all my dark circles, why don't you?"
Virat bhaiya shakes his head fondly. He beckons Ishan on the other side of the table and almost shoves his phone in Ishan's hand. He's been talking to Shubhman.
Shubhman seems to be just as surprises to see him and freezes. Ishan freezes as well, but for something else entirely.
He has a fucking hickey on his chin.
His heart thuds uncomfortably in his chest as he smiles,"Hi, how are you?"
"I'm good," he absolutely doesn't sound good with the way his eyes are widening,"Just wanted to show Virat bhaiya the toys I bought for Vamika yesterday." Almost as if he's relieved, he turns the phone camera to some soft toys, piled up messily. Ishan smiles, spotting the Pikachu plushie that Vamika is sure to love.
"That's very sweet of you, Shubhman." He looks at Virat bhaiya and back at Shubhman. "I'm very sorry to cut this short but I need to borrow Virat bhaiya's copy of Rashmirathi instantly before my next class."
"Of course, totally understandable! It was nice talking to you!" He seems like he is hesitant in adding anything else.
Even as he knew it could probably be the worst choice of his life, Ishan smiles at him at graciously. "Fir milenge."
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Shubhman is waiting on the steps of his porch when Ishan returns home. He looks like a kicked puppy.
He keeps stealing glances at Ishan, as he walks across the veranda. He stands up when Ishan reaches him and Ishan gestures at the door, unlocking his house and letting his guest enter first, as courtesy dictates.
"Ishan. Can we talk?"
Ishan nods, removing his jacket and throwing it over the arm of the sofa. "We can. But before that, I need tea to survive that conversation. Do you want some?"
"Please, thank you."
The pass the time in silence, unlike last time when they'd been yapping on and on about one thing or the other.
As the tea is boiling, Ishan sneaks a glance at Shubhman, who is staring at the bunch of gajras that Ishan has now started to group at the corner of the dining table. Before Ishan can take his eyes away from Shubhman, the man turns and Ishan wants to bury himself somewhere because Shubhman looks so fucking beautiful.
"I'm not sorry for meeting you, for falling for you or for wanting to date you," Shubhman says. His voice is shaking. "But I am sorry if I was a nuisance to you or if I scared you. I only ever wanted to, I don't know, just let you know how my world revolves around you."
Ishan doesn't know what to say, so he remains silent. Shubhman continues, softer, more vulnerable. "The day I saw you, I wanted to completely drown in you. Possess and be possessed. You seemed so full of life, love and enthusiasm. And I was never even remotely like that. I've never had a shred of peace or enthusiasm. You're so beautiful, so lively. I wanted you to myself."
"You could have asked me on date, Shubhman." He says, pouring the tea in teacups that he bought last year— only because they looked cute to him. White, covered all over by cute emojis. Shubhman gets the one with sparkle emojis.
Shubhman raises his eyebrows, still uncertain. "And you wouldn't have turned out to be homophobic? Or just token straight? Or even committed?" He blows lightly on his tea and the smell of mint calms Ishan somehow. "I realise I was wrong, but wanted to protect myself. I found out everything about you there is to find— I wanted to be cautious. I'm one of the youngest names in the industry, I'm unused to the attention and my success makes me a target for jealousy. I am nothing if not careful."
"And so humble, too." Ishan marks with a wry grin.
Shubhman looks down, almost shy. He continues after a moment,"I started searching you up and then when I was sure that you're all around a good person, I couldn't hide the urge to text you. After the first day, it became kind of addicting. Talking to you was the highlight of my day."
"You can break into my house to give me gajras and not ask me on a date?" Ishan raises an eyebrow. Shubhman shuffles adorably. Ishan is reminded how young and hence naive the man is, and something certainly unethical flares inside him.
Stop, he tells himself. For the sake of a peaceful death, stop.
Shubhman gives him a hesitant half grin. "I'm not even sorry."
And that was the truth. While Shubhman may feel sorry about spooking Ishan, but he won't feel sorry about pursuing him— in any way.
Ishan realises abruptly that his tea is empty when Shubhman lifts his cup up, taking his mug as well and putting them both in the sink. Ishan doesn't even have the coherence to stop his guest from doing chores because— what the fuck. What the fuck. His stalker is washing their cups of tea.
"No, wait!" Shubhman looks at him, surprised,"What are you doing, you're my guest! My mother will kill me if she finds out! Stop!"
Shubhman laughs and throws some water at Ishan almost unthinkingly before he freezes. Ishan swats him on the bicep.
There's something dangerous bubbling in his chest and it's not necessarily illicit but it is so so tempting and rattling.
Shubhman smiles at him and Ishan wants to keep the smile tattooed over his throat and feel him every time he takes a deep breath.
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It's a miracle but ishan somehow manages to blink himself back to reality when Shubhman starts speaking. It's breath of fresh air to see the boy standing awkwardly in his kitchen, but Ishan has better manners than that. He leads Shubhman back to the living room. They cannot sit apart, won't, and Ishan feels so awkward that he might as well have met him at the club again.
"So," Ishan stretches out the syllable,"last night? What was...that?"
Shubhman blushes and looks down. For all purposes, he looks like he is here to give an interview or proposition a marriage.Ishan knows which one he prefers.
(No. Stop. Bad Ishan. BAD.)
"As you know, I've already hacked into your phone." Ishan raises an eyebrow and Shubhman shrugs with a wince. "I promise I didn't find you through that. I was in the club to drink myself in misery since the whole spooking you in the bathroom thing. It was out of line and I am very sorry about that. But yeah. I saw you with the guy and...I couldn't just watch. I wanted to be one whom you laugh with, whom you dance with. I knew all the dance hook steps you seemed to be enjoying and I wanted you to look at me like you're proud.
"I got the lights cut off for a while. I only planned to come near you and just bask in the fact that you're touching me. Things... escalated. And well. I can't claim to regret anything." His hand hovers over the hickey at his chin and his eyes look at the biege shirt Ishan is wearing, the one that conceals his own set of hickeys just barely. He'd had to wear a tie today to hide the one at his throat.
Ishan knows something is wrong with him because he definitely doesn't regret that either. He thinks that he'd love it anyway, if it was Shubhman or the stalker. The only reason that he didn't recognise the voice was because Shubhman appeared to have a mild cold, which deepened his voice.
Shubhman purses his lips and it's only when Ishan sees the look on his face that he realises that he's fingering the hickey at his throat. Shubhman's jaw tightens but he stays where he is.
Ishan gulps and looks away, at the gajras at the dining table.
"So," Shubhman copies Ishan. "Something like a girlfriend, huh?"
"You leave me flowers, worry about my well being and steal my shirts. I'm not even wrong," Ishan says with a grin. Shubhman grins back but Ishan knows that he wants a real answer and that makes him look away. "Since my childhood, I've had issues with, um, sharing. Thinking that someone solely wanted me, that someone is completely mine in a sense that is undecipherable, it may be wrong but I was flattered. I liked being the sole attention."
Shubhman looks at him hesitantly. "My attention is only ever going to be on you, Ishan, should you allow it. There's nothing I want more than I want you to be my partner, my companion."
"And you're not a murdering psychopath who stalks people, makes them fall for him and then kills them?" Ishan asks, just to be sure. He's late in the question and he's also aware that an actual psychopath wouldn't say the truth, because plausible deniability, who?
Shubhman grins at him. Ishan wants to curse how beautiful he is. No fucking wonder he's on so many magazine covers. He would have ended the world of modelling if he didn't choose academics.
"And you're asking me this question after I've broken into your house more than three times and you've invited me for tea twice?"
Ishan shrugs. Shubhman laughs.
"No." The intensity of the word comes as a bit of a shocker. "There's never going to be anyone but you. And you'll never get hurt by my hand intentionally, I swear it. You're everything, Ishan." Shubhman smiles, softer and quieter. He turns and his knee bumps with Ishan's thigh. "I don't become a stalker for just anyone, Ishan."
Ishan feels heat rush to his cheeks and ears. He unnecessarily clears his throat. "It's a good thing too. How would I take you to the best date ever if you're in jail?"
Shubhman blinks owlishly. Ishan panics. He definitely shouldn't have asked. Maybe Shubhman wanted to take it slow. Maybe he didn't want a relationship. Maybe he was busy. Maybe he found out he didn't like Ishan all that much—
"You still want me? After... everything?"
Ishan breathes a sigh of relief. One of his hand goes to Shubhman's knee unbidden and the other goes to cup his face.
"I've wanted you since the very moment I heard about you, baby. Of course, of course, I want you."
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Tagging: @mayakimayahai @onthecloudseven @kyayaarkiraa @k-h-watari @ek-ladki-bheegi-bhagi-si @khwxbeeda @fortunatelycrazyyouth @theseventhhoax @ms-potato @athena-swords (bless you and your comments, ily)
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ishuess · 2 months
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Ishman: A meme thread (part 2)
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kyayaarkiraa · 4 months
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Theory: Ishan keeps tattoos and beard because he knows that if he got rid of them, he would look like a teen (a really pretty teen whom everyone would fawn over) (also probably wouldn't be taken seriously)
[Shubman has already been exposed to the unavoidable charm]
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dead-leaves · 5 months
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I SNORTED so loud I almost choked
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eremin0109 · 4 months
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Interviewer: So, who's the most—
Shubman: Ishan.
Interviewer: Okay, who's more likely to—
Shubman: Ishan. Ishan Kishan. 100% that guy.
Interviewer: ...
Shubman: I S H A N K I S H A N.
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I went to see the india vs pak match live and I can confirm Ishan Kishan is three apples tall
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honksapling · 4 months
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ishman flirting on instagram <3
(tumblr messed the photos click on it to view properly😭😭)
edit: latest addition
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ronika-writes-stuff · 2 months
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So I've been reading a lot of Ishman fanfics on Ao3 and tumblr and... Guys listen.... I love all of them okay but but.....why is everyone putting Ishan as the bottom??
Yes shubhman is like... 6inches taller but he's also so babygirl with his voice and smile and the way he talks..
Meanwhile Ishan radiates control and composure... Like c'mon guys I can't be the only one who thinks Ishan would be an absolute top and shub will follow his lead (or maybe he'll be a pillow princ-)
Okay I'm done now.
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jsjssnsjjs · 29 days
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💔
i remember seeing ishan's interview from way back when he told how he had struggled in traveling and eating for his game and his career.
I remember ishan hitting sixes and fours like nothing on the field and then having a laugh about getting dropped in the next match even after good performance.
I remember ishan being his silly sweet self and lifting everyone's spirit's up on field or in the dressing room.
I remember ishan putting a smile through and through and supporting his bestie even if his own condition was bad because of an eye injury.
I remember ishan helping out the rival players on the field with a heart as big as the moon, even though his own status in the team was that of an umbrella holder.
I remember ishan just being ...... Ishan.
I saw him fall down, I saw him weak, in his lowest and I also saw him in his highest. I saw him try and I saw him trying to make the best out of the rocks life threw at him.
From being fascinated by his cuteness I never realised when ishan became an idol for me. I worked hard in my field of study looking up to him, i would feel inspired whenever ishan would make the best out of whatever little opportunity he'd get. I was and am always going to give MSD my utmost respect but the only player to ever come close to the MSD mark was the ishan kishan for me. He is a player of my time, my era. He is a player that is phenomenal yet humble. He is a player whom I would remember when life would throw big problems at me.
I want to remember him for his perseverance and his will to try and make it better every single time regardless of what the result might be. This is the ishan i see and remember.
BCCI let him go form the ICT, but for me 32 on a blue jersey would always be ishan kishan, and ishan kishan would always be india. It's crazy how something like sports can affect us to such deeper lengths but I'm glad i could get inspired from legends like ishan.
I don't want a comeback i don't want a contract i just hope he keeps on the perseverance and fight that he has in himself.
PS: cried real hard on the cruel decision of BCCI and absolutely disheartened by the trolling that man is recieving on social media.
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hum-suffer · 3 months
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I'm Yours 4
Warning: it's not too explicit but I'd rate it nsfw just to be safe. They're just kissing lol (baki you can read, it's legit no plot)
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Mayank is... something great. He's self assured, cocky and easy to get along with.
The way he slid next to Ishan and danced with him on Dil Di Nazar made Ishan want to scream with joy. The man knew the steps to the movie music video and Ishan instantly gave him brownie points.
Now, they go back and forth, dancing on Señorita as they go and Ishan laughs at the way Mayank butchers the Spanish, instead saying some very unflattering things in Hindi.
Mayank grabs his hand and spins him around, abruptly dipping him. The smile on his face shrinks and Ishan almost wants to hit the man. He controls his urge and takes a step back. He doesn't like being touched so intimately, not at all in a crowd like this. His partner doesn't seem to care much and continues to dance and another song starts to play.
Ishan only recognises the song when it's halfway done and Mayank is holding his hips loosely and dancing completely off beat. Dhan Te Nan is a fast song and this man is dancing almost way too slow for Ishan to even think decently of him. The brownie points are deducted instantly.
Mayank languishly closes his eyes and moves his body in a way that it grazes Ishan's. Ishan closes his eyes too, deciding to enjoy his time out even if it's with someone who doesn't know when to grind and when to dance.
A hand dances at his back, finger tips drawing mindless patterns.
Ishan moves in tandem with the beat as it slows down at the end of the song and slightly raises one of his foot to graze the inside of Mayank's leg.
He opens his eyes to see his reaction but before he can actually discern anything, the lights turn off and another song starts. Uff Teri Adaa starts to play, Ishan knows it because he has it by heart by now.
The club is way too dark without the lights, no windows available in the room. Ishan finds he likes the feeling. The hand from his back and hip disappears abruptly.
Ishan feels arms wrap around his waist from behind. It takes his added brain a moment to understand it but the arms don't feel the same as they did a while ago when he was dipped.
These arms are stronger and hold him in a more comfortable manner. He can break away if he so wishes.
Ishan continues to dance, marvelling at his luck to be suddenly of interest to more than one person.
He feels a forehead at his shoulder, and the arms at his waist shift, fingers splayed over his stomach. The hands are cold, he can feel them perfectly through his thin shirt. Perhaps the stranger had been holding a glass.
From the minute space between two buttons, the stranger slips a finger inside Ishan's shirt as they dance pathetically slow to the song. Ishan can't find it in himself to care about either Mayank or the song or the dance. The cold finger on his warm skin makes his muscles contract and breath hitch.
Ishan throws his head back and the stranger shifts again, nuzzling up Ishan's throat with his nose. Ishan feels teeth graze the corner of his jaw in the imitation of a bite before lips are pressed behind his ears.
"You told me I'm yours," the stranger speaks in a deep voice. Ishan is a bit disoriented from the loud music, but he thinks he's heard the voice before. It's a throaty, raspy voice. "But you're mine too, love."
The pet name brings him back to Earth.
There's only one person who calls him that.
He doesn't know what it says about him but instead of running, Ishan tilts his head further. It's the alcohol, he tells himself.
(He lies. He barely drank a sip of beer before he passed it off to Aditi because it tasted like bullshit.)
The lips shift and he feels a smile at his nape. "I don't let anyone else touch what's mine, love. Won't you be a good boy and cooperate for me?"
Warmth pools in his stomach. He stiffles a groan and sneers in the dark. "And yet, I've yet to see the one who belongs to me. Do you want to upset me, sweet boy?"
Fuck the fucking beer.
(Fuck his need to be so fucking possessive. Fuck his need to know. Fuck the warmth he's feeling in his blood right now.
Fuck him.)
He hears a groan and feels the vibrations on his skin and the way the a huff blows the hair at his nape. Ishan shivers as the finger over his torso slips out and the hand snakes up to cup his throat.
He gulps and he's sure the admirer can feel it. Ishan can feel his shiver at his back.
"Be a good boy, Ishan," he says, and Ishan almost combusts at the way his name sounds, so desired and so wanted and so so passionate. "Walk with me."
Ishan nods, his curiosity makes him a slave as the admirer slides the hand away from his throat and again wraps both his arms around Ishan's waist as he's led to a place he doesn't know.
The grip is still loose enough that Ishan can shrug him off.
He doesn't.
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The admirer stops them when they're in another room. It's dark here too, no lights.
Ishan feels himself being pushed against a wall and then his body is covered with warmth again, hidden under another's.
"Tell me to stop and I will," the admirer says, and Ishan wants to hug him. He doesn't, but just nods.
The next thing he knows, there's hands all over his body. A hand goes behind his head to shield him from the wall and other one goes back to his hip. There's lips on his brow and they trail down slowly, almost painstakingly.
Ishan whimpers, shivering with the effect the hot breath and cold hands have on him. Before he knows what he's doing, his hands are raising and he grabs the shirt that the admirer is wearing and—
Motherfucker.
It's his shirt. His blue silk shirt.
The texture is the same, the small fake diamonds forming a curve at the second last button is the same. Ishan bunches up the fabric in his hands and groans when feverish lips press at his cheeks.
"Stealing is a crime," he says, panting. The admirer chuckles.
He retorts,"If you belong to me, so does your shirt, love."
"I don't belong to you."
"Yet."
The hot kisses shift downward, to his jaw and then his throat. Ishan tenses up for a fraction of a moment when he feels his a hand on the centre of his chest where he's left the top two buttons open.
A finger trails down saliciously.
"You wore this for me, love?" The admirer says, his breath coming faster as if he's affected by their exchange as much as Ishan is. He moves his face and buries it in Ishan's throat, licking almost sweetly at the base of his throat.
Hysterically, Ishan is glad that he's forgone to use any perfume on his skin and instead opted for a light ittar on his clothes. He doesn't think tasting perfume would have been pleasant for the admirer.
He's pulled out of his thoughts when teeth graze at his throat again before he's actually bitten. Ishan can't supress the groan he feels and automatically, one of his hands flies from the shirt to his admirer's hair. His hair is soft, Ishan notes distantly as he grabs a handful— to shove back or forth, he doesn't know.
The admirer seems to take the decision for Ishan as he moves, barely an inch, and bites his skin again. Ishan feels him lick the area with the tip of his tongue.
"No one puts their hands on you, do you understand, love?" The admirer asks.
Ishan doesn't know how to answer that and the hand previously on his chest goes down to grab his shirt and pull Ishan closer. Ishan feels another bite at the corner of his jaw and keens, pulling the admirer closer by his hair.
"Do you understand, Ishan?" He asks again, voice directly in Ishan's ear before he bites his earlobe.
"Yeah," Ishan pants. "Yeah, yeah, I do. I understand."
He is rewarded handsomely for his agreement.
The free hand, the one that isn't tugging him by the shirt and making him feel things he definitely should not be feeling, slithers around his body. The admirer slips his hand in Ishan's back pocket and squeezes lightly.
Ishan gasps, digging his nails in the skin of the admirer's neck.
"Can I kiss you, love? I'll leave you alone if you say no, I promise." The admirer sounds so sincere and so sober. Ishan is drunk on the feeling of his hands on his body. He wants more. He shouldn't, he knows, this admirer could turn out to be a psychopath for all he knows, but.
But his touch is absolute sin. And Ishan has never been a saint.
"Please." Is all he whispers.
The last time Ishan kissed someone was four months ago, when they were playing truth and dare and someone dared him to kiss Aditi. It was awkward and hellish to kiss his best friend of years. Plus, she'd been eating garlic bread, so it was worse.
His admirer? He tasks like ice and something fruity. His lips move against Ishan's, slowly at first, as if he can't believe it and then he absolutely devours Ishan. The admirer groans against Ishan's mouth and Ishan slips his hand under his, Ishan's ,untucked shirt and splays a hand over the man's torso like he did with Ishan not too long ago.
The admirer slows down and Ishan breathes deeply as they pull apart. He wants more. He wants it back.
With all the strength he can manage with his limps so loose and thoughts out of sorts, Ishan flips them so the admirer is pushed against the wall where Ishan was standing. He keeps him there with a hand on his chest and he hears a pop, only to realise that the admirer actually ended up breaking a button on Ishan's shirt with his sudden shift.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks, his voice sounding rough and croaky to his ears. "Please, baby, let me. Let me please you."
The admirer whimpers and Ishan feels the nod from where his hand still lies against the man's neck.
Ishan kisses the admirer like a man starved and moves his other hand to cup his cheek. He can feel the shapely jaw and high and full cheek bones. Ishan moves his hand to cushion the admirer's head as his kiss turns more ardent and Ishan has the wildest idea to stake his claim as well.
He can feel the throbbing on his neck, jaw and throat, and knows that he will have hickeys. It's only fair that he gives repayment.
The admirer groans as Ishan bites at his jaw and his Addam's apple, panting in Ishan's ear in the way that only encourages him.
He swipes his tongue over his admirer's neck and plants a final hickey at his jawline, just an inch away from his chin.
Impossible to hide.
His.
Ishan's.
The way that the admirer whimpers makes Ishan want to do unspeakable things to him. But before it can go any further, the admirer plants a hand over Ishan's mouth. Ishan blinks owlishly even if it's of no use in the bloody dark room.
"I have to go now," his admirer says roughly and shifts. Ishan feels the impact he has had on his admirer. He feels proud for some inexplicable reason. "But we will meet again, love. And until then, no one else touches you, okay?"
Ishan wants to say something scathing and sassy but he purses his lips and nods. "Okay. Can I see your face, at least?"
"Not today, love. Someday else." And there's a hand over his eyes now.
And again, Ishan let's himself be led by a man he doesn't know.
It's only when the cold of the hands disappear from his body that he opens his eyes to see himself at the dance floor again.
Ishan doesn't see Mayank for the rest of the night.
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Tagging: @kyayaarkiraa @fortunatelycrazyyouth @khwxbeeda @ek-ladki-bheegi-bhagi-si @ishkrisq @k-h-watari @ispeakmorelanguagesthanyou @ms-potato @onthecloudseven @mayakimayahai @athena-swords
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ishuess · 2 months
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WHEN THE ENTIRE TEAM DECIDED TO PUT THEIR KIDS FOR A PICTURE...HARDIK PUT BOTH OF HIS SONS.😭 his aggu baby and Ishu baby
The girl in the pink dress is soo confused.
This is the most Adorable thing in the world❤️
Nazar na lage isko⚫🧿
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kyayaarkiraa · 4 months
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Ishan's soft boy era is what got me 🛐👑👑👑
This is my religion now
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dead-leaves · 5 months
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Shubman—meri tshirt hatake paseena chatega bratty power bottom—Gill with Ishan—pagal wagal hai kya brat-tamer top—Kishan
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eremin0109 · 4 months
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Listen, I love everything about Ishan and Shubman's relationship off-field, they're just so cute! But I don't think we realize just how well they complement each other (as openers) in the field as well.
Shubman is a 6 ft 1, right-handed batsman who takes his time to settle on the pitch before smashing the big boundaries. He either plays really long innings (8 fucking centuries at 24!) or gets out before even reaching double digits. He's generally calm and composed on the field.
Whereas there's a reason they call Ishan the "pocket dynamite". He's a 5 ft 5, left-handed wicket-keeper batsman who hit the first ball of his debut T20I and ODI for a four and a six respectively. He's also the only player in the world to convert his maiden century into a fucking double ton, in just 126 balls no less! He's someone who usually plays short, explosive innings and needs an anchor on the other end to convert them into bigger scores.
So you see where I'm getting at???
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bimesskaira · 1 month
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This was the post I was supposed to post after my exams but since the ship is sinking well I will just post them I suppose
Ishman being similar to other ict couples
Holding Hands
Ishman🤝🏼Virushka
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Height difference
Rohika 🤝🏼 Ishman
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Looks of love
Virushka 🤝🏼 Rahiya 🤝🏼 Ishman
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Talking
Jasan 🤝🏼 Ishman
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Sharing clothes
Rahiya 🤝🏼 Ishman
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honksapling · 4 months
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ishman wardrobe sharing saga continues....
(also i legit cant get over ishan's sweater paws...that jacket's so big on him😭😭)
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