seungcheol - kheer because it's nurturing, warm, comforting and feels like home.
jeonghan - gajar ka halwa because looks can be deceiving and at the end of the day everyone loves it.
joshua - gulab jamun, sweet and soft like him. gulab jamun is like the friendly neighbor who always brings a smile to your face with their kind and gentle demeanor.
junhui - rasgulla, looks plain but has it's own personality, spreading joy and laughter wherever they go with their infectious energy.
hoshi - barfi that comes in all the different flavours and toppings to be extra.
wonwoo - peda because it's like the soft-spoken friend who may be quiet but is filled with kindness and sincerity.
woozi - shrikhand because it might look plain but it has it's own unique personality that everyone can't help but grow to love.
minghao - rasmalai because it's timeless, elegant and a classic.
mingyu - kaju katli because it's loved by everyone and everyone wants it just like mingyu.
dokyeom - mysore pak because it's rich, indulgent and sweet like kyeom.
seungkwan - jalebi because how can you say no to jalebi and i feel like he would like it.
vernon - soan papdi because he just gives those vibes okay.
dino - mootichoor ladoo because it's fun and cheerful with the orange color like chan, always uplifting the energy in the room.
as of 9am today, 8131 palestinians were killed, 20438 are injured and 1.4 million have been displaced. it’s important for all of us to help palestine in as many ways as we can.
i also cannot stress how much just spreading awareness in general can help. staying silent because of your discomfort is not an excuse to sit by while a genocide takes place. when we learn about these events in history we often think “how was this allowed to happen?” but that’s exactly what’s happening now and it’s our responsibility to not sit by and let an entire country be wiped out. i will continue adding more ways to help to this post and i’d really appreciate it if anyone can spread this as much as possible.
it’s important to get educated on everything going on in palestine right now, here are some sources that could help!
decolonize palestine - made by two palestinians, answers a lot of questions regarding everything right now (including debunking a lot of myths from biased news stations) and provides a lot of historical context.
list of documentaries to watch if you want to gain further knowledge
list of accounts to follow on twitter that can also provide information
linktree with information
you can also donate to organisations! even if you can’t donate tons of money, you can help by spreading these links so others can also try to donate!
also important to note that you should try not to donate to UN organisations, they won’t truly help palestine, the ones listed do work on the ground
red crescent
PCRF
MAP
doctors w/o borders
palestinian social fund
palestinian in pain launch good
this website is free and uses ad revenue for donations, all you need to do is click it once daily!
some more places you can donate to and some more
boycotting will also help!! also some of the kpop idols we stan have brand deals with ones that support 🇮🇱 so please let’s not interact with their posts with those brands
list from BDS of companies to boycott
signing petitions!
write to representatives and demand they retract their support of 🇮🇱
ways to contact local governments about helping palestine
if you’re in the uk here’s a link to contact your local MP
change org ceasefire petition
Text "CEASEFIRE" to 51905 if you live in America. The link provided leads you to a page to sign and call for a ceasefire once the goal is met. They are so close to meeting its goal!!
here's a link that lets you send a letter directly to your state representatives
here are some threads that will also give you ways to help.
thread of things we can do to help palestine
HOW TO HELP PALESTINE!! resources and links to other threads on how to donate and spread awareness of what's happening in palestine currently!!! a thread 🧵
here’s what we know, and links to donate to help aid palestinians, a thread:
Here is a list of list of resources and people you can follow to educate yourself on what’s going on in Palestine RIGHT NOW🇵🇸
Ways US, Canada, and UK residents can reach out to their state representatives and MPs to call for ceasefire in Gaza:
if there are any more sources that you would like me to add pls send me an ask or dm me !!
It's unfathomable, even more so when you realize this isn't the first time Israel has done this. She was a baby. The men were so obviously red crescent medics, and still, Israeli soldiers shot and killed them.
It wasn't a misfired bomb. It was guns. They knew what they were targeting.
Anyone who defends this, for whatever religion you believe in, even if you believe in nothing at all, I can only hope the afterlife brings you your deserved suffering on a platter. You're disgusting, vile creatures, who must've snuck onto the Earth because there is no way in nature that you are human. Die.
نَّا ِلِلَّٰهِ وَإِنَّا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعُونَ
Save the children of Palestine. Protect the medics. Free Palestine. 🇵🇸
This is Rafah, The "safe" zone, where 1.5 million Palestinian fled to. You have to understand, what bombing Rafah means.
Please don't look away, while everybody is busy watching the super bowl, Israel commits one of its most deadly and openly genocidal attacks on Rafah. Please don't look away.
summary: requested by @urlocalavenderhazestan for the follower celebration with the lyric prompt: 'I love you, ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard?'
tags: childhood friends, unrequited love, happy ending, minor angst, confessions of love
note: take a shot every time i write a fic where they're childhood friends or take the friends to lovers route
Avoiding anyone in the Keep does not come easy. You would think, with its endless turns and twists and the labyrinth of tunnels and passages you’ve overheard the servants muttering about, one would be able to find some seclusion. But there is no refuge to be found for you here, at least while the Targaryens reign and your poor, stupid heart continues to beat.
You don’t mean to fall for him. Truly, you don’t. But the second son of King Viserys slithers his way into your heart and takes up residence before you even realise he’s there.
It’s perhaps the consequence of growing up alongside the other, not quite close enough to consider each other friends but not foes. Princes have no friends, least of all a child of an unimportant house. Companions, maybe.
You cry for three days when he returns to King’s Landing missing an eye and a dragon in its stead, sure he’ll have no use for your companionship now that he might take flight as his brother does, darkening the skies above the city with Vhagar’s hulking form. But he finds you on the fourth day when you finally venture beyond your room, and with a confidence you had only seen in glimpses before, clutches your arm and leads you to meet the fierce she-dragon he has claimed.
As the years progress, you remain firm in your understanding of the nature of your relationship with the prince. You are his second. Your loyalty is unwavering, you would never assume to seek anything more. Even if his rare smiles warm you more than the sun, and the reason you insist on his instruction in fighting isn’t really for your interest in the sword. Even if, when in the dark of the night you look out your window to find a shock of white hair on the grounds below, your stomach dips and you cannot hide the smile as you rush out to meet him.
But it is seldom that easy, to grapple with oneself for control over matters of the heart and come out victorious.
It happens in the Grand Sept. A single glance over, the glow of a thousand burning candles cast upon the face you had known for what seems an entire lifetime, gazed upon before in a million different moments, and everything quietens.
Love feels strikingly similar to grief.
You cannot leave the sept fast enough after your prayers, unable to withstand a minute longer of the company you know you must now give up. Love, you decide as you barrel through the halls of the castle–ignoring the shouts of courtiers who you just manage to avoid hitting–feels like death sentence.
There is a distinct lack of the romance the court singers composed their songs about. This feels more like a tragedy, you think bitterly as you enter your chambers.
The four walls of your chambers become exceedingly familiar to you over the next week. You feign sickness, and it isn’t hard when you barely have any energy to rise from your bed. You send away any visitors–Aemond included, whose voice carries through the shut door as he argues with your handmaid.
When you can no longer reasonably remain sick–your father threatens to have a maester see to you–you return to the world outside, attempting in vain to remain unnoticed by any Targaryen or Targaryen-adjacent.
You realise it to be an impossible feat when not ten steps from your chambers you turn the corner and come face to face with the reason for your disappearance. He stares at you and it roots you to the spot, a silent well? Where have you been? in the lift of his brows.
“You have recovered, I see,” he says coolly, eye raking down your figure.
“I have, your grace,” you mumble, averting your eyes when you feel the familiar painful squeeze of your heart.
“What was it?” he asks and you shake your head, not understanding. “You were ill. What caused it?”
Your throat dries.
“Fatigue, I believe, my lord,” you stammer after a pause too long to be reasonable. He quirks a brow.
“I see,” he says once again. You feel as though he has become a snake, and you a rabbit, ensnared in the trap of his gaze. He refuses to let you go. His eye thins into a slit. “You are aware that lying to me is considered treasonous?”
“I…”
“Of course,” he lets out a humourless laugh. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you? Not my most trusted companion.”
Steel lines his words, not an ounce of belief in them. He waits. Before you stretches the opportunity to confess your sins now, but your tongue turns leaden in your mouth and you can only stare at him miserably.
“I’ve never known you to be so silent,” he presses forward, and when you take an alarmed step back, you know you’ve given yourself away. Any pretence you might’ve had a chance of maintaining slips down the hallway when you flinch away. You’ve never had any qualms before about Aemond’s propensity for closeness when it comes to you–you’d welcomed it, in fact, only happy he trusted you enough to be so tactile. Now, something like hurt flashes over his face before it smooths out and he stares.
“What is wrong with you?” he questions, any semblance of patience gone.
“It’s nothing,” you try, even as he begins to shake his head. “I’m well now. Shall we head down to train?”
“I don’t give a shit about training. I want to know what the devil is wrong with you!” he says through gritted teeth.
“Nothing is wrong with me!” you exclaim back, your own patience beginning to thin. Your hands curl into fists by your side, willing him to let this go and not continue this line of questioning.
“You’re acting–” he splutters, breaking off his sentence, “You’re not at all like yourself.”
“I am not,” you deny vehemently but he takes another step closer.
“You are,” he argues. “You forget how long I have known you. This is…this isn’t you. Now, Seven help me, you will tell me what is wrong. I don’t like this at all.”
“Do you believe I like it anymore than you do?” you question roughly, forgetting for a moment where you are, and who he is, daring to reach out and shove at his chest. He doesn’t so much as stumble, only staring down at you with a hard look in his eye. “I would not bear this if I wanted to. I was content to live the way I was, you’ve ruined everything!”
And it isn’t fair, not one bit, for you to blame him. He hadn’t asked you to fall for him, but you aren’t thinking clearly and all you see is the subject of your agony and heartache, striking him once again in the chest. He grabs your wrists, then, evidently fed up with your hysterics.
“What are you talking about?” he demands, shaking your arms.
“I love you, you wretch,” you bellow in his face and he goes white, hands slipping around yours. “There! You know, now! Isn’t it the worst thing you’ve ever heard? Well, you insisted on it.”
You wipe at your eyes angrily, which have begun to leak, and turn around to conceal your shuddered breaths.
“Say it again,” comes the weak demand from behind you and you scoff.
“I will not,” you refuse indignantly. “I’ve brought shame to myself enough for one evening.”
Your name, then, is repeated. No longer does it carry the censure he’d addressed you with, now softened around the edges into something gentle. “Say it again.”
It isn’t a demand. This is not the prince who speaks to you, but the man you’ve grown up alongside. You turn around hesitantly, meeting the still form of your life’s longest companion. One pale violet eye stares at you with something like reverence, and it’s like a siren call, coaxing the words from your lips before you can think.
“I love you,” you tremble.
His mouth, so often set in an impassive curve, curls upwards into something wolfish, violet eye glowing.
Between breaths you’re moved from standing in the hallway to being pressed against a marble column with the second prince’s mouth on yours in plain view for anyone to see, lips slanting over yours as he stakes his claim. Long fingers curl around your jaw and tilt your face up to him, and you–you no longer have any sense of what is happening, submitting to the prince as so many before you have under his ancestors.
If this is a dream, you’ll be sorry to wake up from it, you think absently as your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, but the press of his thumb to your cheek is solid, and grounding, and most importantly, real.
You could never conjure up such a thing, not even in your wildest dreams.
When he pulls away, catching his breath, it is only to continue his path elsewhere. He presses fevered kisses to the planes of your face, the corners of your mouth and your eyelids and jaw all heat under his affections.
The sigh of his name draws his attention to you, a smirk pulling at his reddened mouth.
“You are ridiculous,” he tells you fondly. “Did you think I would rebuke you? Why would you hide yourself from me?”
“I did not think my affections would be so well met,” you manage to laugh breathlessly, dropping your head to his shoulder.
“I thought it would be obvious,” he muses. “I have only ever been yours. How could I not be?”
“I did not think myself any more important than the rest,” you admit and he pinches your side.
“Ridiculous,” he repeats, shaking his head. He holds your face with both hands, then, looking at you intently. “It is you I love. It is you I want.”
You’re cursing yourself for hiding for so long, that you might have had this sooner, when he kisses you once more and drives all and any thought from your head.
fin.
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