SLAMS FISTS ON TABLE give me more mutual pining where both characters are head over heels for each other but they keep dismissing each other’s signals of oh my god i love you you nerd please notice me because they’re afraid to accept even the idea of being happy. give me them being best friends and even roommates and person a decides that they need to try to move on because they’re never going to have the person they want and they can’t keep waiting around and pining. they start dating mutual friend c and yes, to a certain degree they’re happy but person b just gets more and more upset having to see the person they love with someone else and it starts impacting their relationship with both of them and FINALLY one night after a comes home from a date and b’s sulking they ask b what’s wrong and they growl “i hate your boyfriend” and tries to go off to hide in their bedroom but a catches their arm and asks why and finally, after what feels like hours of silence b just says “because they’re not me.”


Is it a copout of sorts to say I can’t find words yet to describe my reactions & feelings to Benedict’s Richard III?   I’m ususally so eager to share my thoughts & opinions, but I’m unable to express myself properly.  His performance was masterful, his Richard tottering (to me, it seems) on the edge of madness with every breath he took on his ascent to the throne; then even more so, and tinged with palpable paranoia on his descent. literally, into the mud.

I have been alternately confused & amazed, dazzled & left aching inside–for a villain who embraced his villainy because he felt he had no other course, because the world refused to ever embrace him


Imagine a pocket-sized you pulling at the straps of the Ryan mask on your head, tying the straps under your chin so that the yellow bear’s face vaguely resembles a baby hat. Before you can even do anything else with your new “hat,” a hand pulls at the mask, unraveling the misshapen knot you created from the straps. Your hands raise in the air to reach for the mask as a whimper escapes your lips, but it’s no use. A gigantic figure sporting navy-colored pajamas with the same Kakao character patterned all over takes the mask and slips it on his forehead. He flops onto his bed (this almost sends you flying), a couple of Ryan plushies and a Ryan pillow awaiting him, and you watch as he pulls out his phone. A Ryan phone case greets you from your spot.

Crossing your arms, you huff in irritation and approach the corner of the bed, turning around so that you can grasp at the comforter as you descend. Once on the soft carpet, you waddle towards the door and mutter something under your breath about how Namjoon’s obsession with Ryan is just as bad as Yoongi’s obsession with Kumamon.