We Dumped Tea Into The Harbor For Less

Posters for National Theater of Korea's production of Macbeth, designed by Yuni Yoshida and photographed by Noh Juhan. [1][2]

Tiktok is banned. If you need me you can catch me neck deep in ao3 to a degree I have never been neck deep in ao3 before

enemies to lovers midpoint prompts

as the request stated, that ‘i am trying really hard to keep hating you‘ phase, or what i like to call the reluctant friend stage. feel free to use :)

“i think we’re friends now.” “God, don’t say that.”

“everything is just a competition for you… isn’t it?” “isn’t it for you, too?”

“h—” “don’t talk to me.”

“i’d pay good money for you to admit you tolerate me.” “tolerate being the operative word.”

“why can’t you open up to me?” “why do you want me to?”

they’re so used to hating each other sometimes the snide remarks just slip out LMAO

like “should i get you something too?” “you can get out of my fa— woah, hehe. sorry.”

“you’re still on that?” “still on that..??? STILL ON THAT?????? I CANT STAND YOU???!!!(!;!”

a whispered moment between them ; “i’m trying so hard to hate you.” “why?”

they’re trying hard to hate each other then something happens (plot) and they’re stuck together which makes it ten times harder

“be honest with me.” “but why? why would i do that?”

“stop.” “stop what?” “being so kind to me.”

remember… they hated each other a couple chapters back. what changed? why did it change? who did it start to change in first?

the moment where your character asks themselves; “when did this nuisance become so important to me?”

Roberto Ferri, “Like Poison” (𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥).

All time

Various wings from Roberto Fieri's paintings

unhinged character — who's violent, wounded, traumatized and unpredictable, seen as unstable, a danger to themself and society — acting as a guard dog to the only person in the world whom they love. bonus if that person is actually their own archenemy. so they are the only one who's allowed to hurt them. anyone else who touches my sworn enemy will lose a hand and a life. my kind of fucked up romance fr

Ph. Maisie Cousins

“you’re a writer, right?”

me, staring at the one sentence i’ve managed to add in the last hour and the 12 open tabs on the specifics of shoes in 1845 Ireland: In theory.