Drama Addict Extraordina

Alice in Borderland — Season 1: The Show That Turns Card Games Into Trauma

📝 Review (WARNING: Potential Spoilers — I’m Not Saving You from Emotional Damage)
So… I pressed play on Alice in Borderland, thinking I’d watch “just one episode.” Classic mistake. Episode one hit me like a truck. One minute I’m sitting there with my snack bowl, the next I’m gripping the remote like it’s a lifeline. Arisu spiraling? Very relatable. Me spiraling with him? Even more relatable. I swear the show reached out of the screen, grabbed me by the hoodie, and said, “Welcome to your new obsession.”

Somewhere in this madness, I realized something weird: not a single character is conventionally hot, and somehow it makes the whole thing better. They’re chaotic, scrappy, terrifyingly clever, and weirdly endearing in their own unhinged ways. Usagi shows up looking like she could outrun gravity. Chishiya slinks around like he owns every room he walks into. I spent half the show trying to decide if I wanted to fight him, high-five him, or throw a shoe at him.

Arisu, though… watching him go from panic-gamer to “I can outsmart death itself” strategist had me grinning like an idiot. The show somehow gives you hope and anxiety at the same time. Every win feels like a tiny victory for my nervous system. Every loss? Immediate emotional damage. I could practically feel the sleep leaving my body.

By the halfway mark, I wasn’t even sitting properly. I had migrated to that awkward left-side-lean-slouch thing where your soul leaves your body every time a character breathes wrong. Usagi just kept silently being better than everyone else, and I accepted it. Chishiya gave me trust issues. Arisu made me want to hug my controller like a comfort object.

And then the finale happened.

Oh. My. God.

My brain? Gone. My heart? Pulverized. My snacks? Devoured in self-defense. I swear the cliffhanger physically lifted me off my couch. I had that hollow, echoing “WHAT?!” moment where you stare at the credits like they personally betrayed you. My adrenaline was doing cartwheels. My emotional state was basically a crumpled melon at that point.

I wasn’t ready. I will never be ready. And yet here I am, planning a rewatch like a clown who enjoys suffering.


💭 Final Mood
Emotionally shredded, mildly feral, high on adrenaline, and wondering why I didn’t pace myself. 10/10 would panic again.

Read More

Fake Marriage, Real Chemistry, Excellent Supporting Chaos

📝 Review (WARNING: Potential Spoilers — I’m Not Saving You from Emotional Damage)

So this drama is perfect for that cold ML. Lee Min Ki played this role to perfection—starting out cold and aloof, then slowly warming up. This was also my first “Fake Marriage” trope experience, and it’s what led me down another rabbit hole. I’ve got so many of those now, I could probably take over all of Wonderland with the mentality of a mix between the Mad Hatter and the Cheshire Cat.

What really elevated the drama, though, was the supporting cast. These characters don’t just exist to prop up the leads—they enhance the story, adding layers of humor, heart, and chaos that make the whole experience richer. Their interactions make the world feel lived-in, and honestly, without them, some of the emotional beats wouldn’t hit nearly as hard.


Seriously though, I really did enjoy this drama. It’s smart, funny, and the little domestic chaos between the housemates is endlessly charming. The pacing and the emotional beats never felt forced, and it’s absolutely on my rewatch list (even if I haven’t gotten around to it yet).

Read More

When Relatable Turns Exhausting: The Age-Gap Angst Olympics

📝 Review (WARNING: Potential Spoilers — I’m Not Saving You from Emotional Damage)

Alright, real talk—this is the classic older woman, younger man trope with a 10-year age gap.

What really got to me was He Fan Xing’s reactions to the younger man. It was obvious she liked him, yet she kept obsessing over the age difference. And yes, it’s relatable—society still stigmatizes older women dating younger men while older men with younger women? Totally fine. The double standard is real.

But in this show? She took it to the extreme. I mean, it almost turned me off the whole Older Woman, Younger Man C-drama trope for a while. Not because the drama is bad—the actors are fine, the story works—but the FL’s overthinking was just… exhausting.

And let’s be honest, the societal pressure angle? It’s too relatable. Women who are unmarried or divorced get treated as “less desirable” in dramas (and sometimes in real life). Thankfully, things are slowly improving, but Asian dramas love to milk this for angst.

So, yeah, I get her hesitation. I really do. But this one dragged it out enough that I couldn’t fully enjoy it.

The leads are competent, and the chemistry is there when it matters, but for me, this isn’t a rewatch. Not a favorite, just… fine.

💭 Final Mood:

“Relatable in a frustrating way. Okay acting, story meh. 3/5. Definitely not climbing my favorites list or getting a second watch.”

Read More

Full House… but make it Chinese

First things first: I love Full House and even Full House Take Two, so naturally I had to watch this.

The house. Oh my god, the house. Gorgeous, creative, photogenic — I want to redecorate my own apartment just to pretend I live here. And the dog. The dog! Don’t care if he’s a prop or real — he has personality. I want him as my roommate.

The leads? Adorable. Jin Ze Yi’s bratty exterior hiding a needy little soul is chef’s kiss. The slow-burn tension works perfectly. No, the lack of skinship didn’t bother me — sometimes longing is hotter than touching.

Jiang Zi Xin (Jin Xiao Qin) is the absolute worst. She sold Luo Tian Ran’s house behind her back and constantly tries to manipulate both her and Jin Ze Yi into ridiculous money-making schemes.

Every. Single. Appearance. — I groaned. I wanted a stick, a bat, literally anything to get through her screen time. She’s worse than the Korean version’s best friend, and that version was already obnoxious.

Tiffany, Zeyi’s agent, is supposed to be harmless. Ha. No. She’s almost as annoying as the best friend. Tiffany is basically the Chinese version of Hye Won — the stylist from the Korean version who was also Yeong Jae’s first love (except Tiffany is definitely not the first love here).


She brings this highly irritating “green tea” energy, constantly switching tunes, and somehow ends up with Lin Che — Tiffany did not deserve him, because he was way too adorable. Despite all that, she does support Tian Ran and Zi Ye sometimes, which is… something, I guess.

Meng Meng… seriously, what’s your purpose? She pops up enough to distract me but adds absolutely nothing. Chinese rom-coms really love giving side characters far too much air time, and it drags the pacing.

Ugh, Yun Shu. Leo Li’s SML is boring.

His subplot about Congenital Insensitivity to Pain (CIP) — yes, a real genetic disorder where a person cannot feel physical pain, often leading to unnoticed injuries — made zero sense in the context of this show.

It didn’t add tension, depth, or drama. He’s bland, forgettable, and ultimately does nothing to make the story more compelling. Compared to the Korean versions’ SMLs, who actually added interesting layers or fun rivalry, Yun Shu is a total letdown.

The pacing is a rollercoaster. Some episodes drag — especially when the best friend, Tiffany, or Meng Meng dominate screen time.

But then… the concert scene. Pure gold. Cinematic, emotional, swoon-worthy. Probably the highlight of the series and makes enduring the filler worth it. If you watch nothing else, watch that scene.

I’ve seen the Korean Full House and Full House Take Two. The Chinese version tweaks enough to feel like its own thing.

The best friend is worse. Side characters hog too much air time. Yun Shu adds almost nothing. But the leads’ chemistry? Still adorable — slow-burn, subtle, and charming.

I haven’t watched the Thai version yet, but now I kind of want to, just for comparison.

Ugh. The ending. Completely unnecessary. Adds zero value.

The series could have skipped it entirely, and the story would’ve been fine. But of course, drama demands drama. Sigh.

💭 Final Mood:
“Loved the leads, hated the SML, hated the side plots, adored the concert, cried over wasted screen time, swooned over the house and the dog — 7/10 chaos, 10/10 feelings. Still glad I watched, even if Jiang Zi Xin and Tiffany haunted my dreams.”

Read More

Modern Snow White: Less Magic Mirror, More Toxic Social Media.

Watched this immediately after My Sassy Princess: Wake Up! Sleeping Beauty, and I’ll admit—it’s a step up. Honestly, these shows feel like they could have an order: Wake Up! Sleeping Beauty → Cinderella → Snow White, but you don’t really need one. This one has more complexity, deeper emotional beats, and is—despite being a disaster in its own chaotic way—actually watchable.

Episode 5 of the USA version had me completely over Beauty. Like, I almost quit watching because of her. But oh, the sweet, bitter karma of it all: Snow gave her VIP seat, thinking she was doing a kind gesture, Plu was trying to do something nice for Snow without realizing she’d already given it up… and Beauty? Everyone shoved her into crying. Do I feel bad? Not even a little. She’s the textbook villain who dishes it out but can’t handle the slightest taste of her own medicine. Absolutely delicious.

Plu—I’m torn. You can see he likes Snow, but because of his image and fear of his company, he keeps hurting her. It’s unfair. Snow is sweet, overly caring, and frankly a bit too selfless sometimes, which makes her misery even more painful to watch. I wish they gave her a little evil queen moment—a moment to smack back at the chaos instead of being walked over constantly.

Ma/Ton—poor guy. The genuinely nice friend who loves Snow quietly, and she only sees him as a friend. I mean… sometimes Prince Charming doesn’t need to be romantic, but come on. Heartbreak.

And the whole “ugly Snow” thing? Please. She’s very pretty. Too dark? She’s tanned. Too heavy? She’s healthy. Finally, a lead who isn’t a stick and the show acknowledges it. Small victory.

Episode 6—things perk up, finally. Snow starts showing herself online, and the views go from 11.5k to nearly 20k. Glory. But of course, chaos: Beauty’s true colors, Plu’s overbearing boss, and more of the cringe factory hits Snow hard. Still, I love the moments where she starts reclaiming her self-esteem. She’s been beaten down since childhood, and seeing the crew start to recognize her worth is genuinely satisfying.

This series is part fairy tale, part social media commentary, all sass. Yes, it’s messy, and yes, it’s chaotic, but it’s entertaining. The characters are ridiculous, the villains are deliciously cruel, the side drama makes zero sense sometimes, and yet… I could not stop watching.

💭 Final Mood:

“Train-wreck fabulous, bitterly sweet karma, social media chaos, Snow reclaiming herself, Beauty finally getting what’s coming, and Plu being a mess of his own fears."

Read More

The Thai Sleeping Beauty Remake That Needed a Nap More Than She Did

This was supposed to be a modern take on Sleeping Beauty (the sparkly, Disneyfied version, I assume). Instead, we get: a snarky doctor, wildly overbearing parents, an actually-sane grandma, and a brother who communicates exclusively through fists. For flavor, the show tosses in a few fairies and a surfskating idol as the villain. Yes, surfskating. I even had to Google it.

(Shout-out to me discovering that it’s basically “surfing on asphalt.” Cool hobby. Not exactly riveting TV.)

Aurora — sorry, Saengnuea — grew up sickly with asthma and allergies, but the show cranks this up to extreme levels for drama. Her parents treat her like a porcelain doll with a warranty. Of course she rebels: sneaking out, surfskating with Ken, and using her doctor neighbor Khai’s house as her personal escape route. She blackmails him with his own cat. Honestly? Iconic.

Between Saengnuea, Khai (or “Lung,” because she refuses to call him by his name), Ken, and the best friend, it’s basically a loop:
• fighting with her parents
• banter/sniping with Khai
• boring surfskating montages
• Ken doing manipulative playboy things
• best friend acting feral for attention

Not much depth, not much growth — just vibes, mostly chaotic ones.

Credit where it’s due: the side plot with Talay and Sky has a sprinkle of BL-adjacent tension. Still thin, but more engaging than the main plot half the time.

Overall? This drama sits somewhere below “meh,” possibly in the shadowy territory of “I’m only here because it’s short.” Luckily it is short: nine episodes for the US version. That’s the only reason I finished it without needing a nap.

I’ve heard My Sassy Princess: Snow White is significantly better, so yes… I’ll be checking that one next.

💭 Final Mood:
“Watched it, sighed a lot, Googled surfskating, and survived — 4/10 but at least it was short.”

Read More

A Hurricane in Sneakers, a Handsome Disaster, and Pure Absurdity—Backstreet Rookie Wins.

Okay, listen. This show is chaotic in the best possible way. From minute one, I’m yelling at my brain: “This is absurd. This is hilarious. Keep up.” Saet Byul walks in like a hurricane in sneakers, and Dae Hyun just… exists—calm, handsome, suffering quietly. The contrast? Chef’s kiss.

The romance? It’s there. Tiny little sparks. But it’s not a swoon-fest, thank god. It’s an absurd rom-com. If you try to take it seriously, it collapses like a Jenga tower in a wind tunnel. The point is the chaos, the banter, the moments that make you go: “What even is happening right now—and why am I laughing so hard?”

Some people complain the leads lack chemistry. Uh… no. They have chemistry, it’s just the weird, awkward, quirky kind that fits the show’s tone. It’s like someone sprinkled love and sarcasm in the blender and hit high-speed. You get awkward flirting, hilarious misunderstandings, and moments of genuine warmth all wrapped in ridiculousness.

Sideplots? Love triangles? Minimal, thank god. This is about comedy first. Romance second, if you even notice it. The absurdity is the star. And oh my god, Crazy by April as the opening theme? I hum it, scream it, possibly annoy my neighbors daily. Perfect chaotic anthem.

💭 Final Mood:

“Laughing until my ribs hurt, grimacing at the cringe moments, teared up once because I secretly care about them, fully embracing the absurdity, and now considering how much my own life lacks Saet Byul-level energy. 10/10. Would watch at 2 a.m., preferably with snacks, sarcasm, and zero self-control.”

Read More

Enemies, Lovers, and One Green Tea Disaster—Just You Has It All.

I watched this because I was in the mood for something Taiwanese. I usually enjoy most older Taiwanese shows. This is your typical enemy-to-lovers trope kind of drama. But that's ok, I love these kinds of shows.

The moment the leads meet, the chemistry was good. I mean, they played enemies great. However, as the story progresses, and they stopped being enemies, the FL kinda went from fierce to stuttering, blithering idiot at times. But it didn't deter from the show, I kept watching, and for the most part enjoyed it. I mean, it’s very rare to love everything about a show, even my faves and my ultimate rewatches have their own flaws.

The SFL, lawd, this bitch is the typical green tea, messed in the head. And with this being aired originally in the 2010's… wait actually the era doesn’t matter. Bitchy jealous, "That's MY man, and no one is going to take him from me." SFLs don’t necessarily get better with time; it's just how the actress portrays the role that's different. Well, there were times that I felt the SFL arc was overdone. But when it came down to it, logically speaking, it actually fit—even if it was highly annoying at times.

Overall, it was cute. Had its flaws, but I still enjoyed it.

💭 Final Mood:

Cute, enemy-to-lovers, green tea chaos, and overall enjoyable.

Read More

Rushed, Random, and Somehow Still Watchable (Thanks, Sung Hoon).

I watched this because I enjoy watching shows with Sung Hoon, especially his older ones.

And… while this wasn’t a bad show, it was definitely not a favorite.

First: 20 episodes at 15 minutes each. Basically ten 30-minute episodes. So yeah… rushed. Everything happens at lightning speed. The FL? Her screaming got on my last nerve. But at least she had backbone and fight (mostly).

The cat. Oh, the cat. Cute. Thank you, cat.

Now the CEO plotline. If they had leaned into the whole “dangerous life CEO gets helped by a vet” premise, this could’ve been amazing. Instead, he’s attacked for… no reason? Saved by the vet? Compensates by buying her hospital? Then suddenly decides she should be his girlfriend?! I’m just… confused. Were episodes missing? Did I blink and skip some character development?

Party scene: supposed friend says, “You’re a poor country bumpkin, what qualifications do you have to be here?” And then… next scene: terrace kiss. Sure, makes sense… if you squint and ignore logic.

Overall? Finished it. Liked it… kind of. Cute, rushed, random, with moments of absurdity that make me laugh and sigh simultaneously.

💭 Final Mood:

“Cute cat. Screaming FL. Sung Hoon being Sung Hoon. Random romance chaos. Would I watch again? Maybe, if I want 15-minute snacks of chaos. 3/5 for drama, 4/5 for cast, 5/5 for cat.”

Read More

A Pretty Disappointment in Divine Packaging

I went into Bride of Habaek expecting fantasy, romance, and a divine love story worthy of the title. What I got was… a confusing mess of hot people acting like moody preteens with commitment issues. And let’s talk about that title for a second—where exactly is the “Bride” in Bride of Habaek? There’s no wedding, no divine union, not even a real payoff. Just a lot of push and pull that leads nowhere satisfying.

Yoon So Ah, the female lead, was honestly exhausting. She starts off incredibly narcissistic and constantly plays the victim, and not in a "she'll grow on me" kind of way. Even by the end, I still didn’t care for her. She had a few redeeming moments, but they were like finding water in the desert—too little, too late.

Habaek? Sure, he’s hot. The man knows how to wear a suit. But beyond that? Not much going on. His character arc is flatter than a god’s heartbeat in the human world. I wanted a powerful, conflicted deity torn between duty and love. Instead, I got a divine himbo who disappears every few episodes for dramatic effect.

Moo-ra is another one of those jealous-female tropes that K-dramas love to throw in, but with zero depth. Bi-ryum at least brought a little personality and sass to the table—probably the only god in the show who felt like he had actual emotions beyond stoic boredom or vague angst.

Now CEO Shin (Hoo-ye)? There was potential. SO much potential. His character had emotional depth, tragic history, and a serious identity crisis… but the show does absolutely nothing with him. They dangle a compelling backstory in front of us and then walk away like we won’t notice. I’m still not even sure what his actual connection to Habaek’s past is supposed to be. Son? Reincarnation? Plot tease? We'll never know.

The shaman friend? Another letdown. She had visions that should’ve been critical, mysterious, exciting—but they amounted to nothing. Just cryptic warnings and dramatic fainting spells.

World-building? Basically nonexistent. We’re told these gods have responsibilities, kingdoms, histories, even wars—but you’d never know it from the show. They mostly just bicker, flirt, and lounge around on Earth like they’re waiting for a group chat update from heaven. It feels like they bought the fantasy furniture but never moved into the house.

There were a few standout moments. A scene here or there would hit emotionally—especially the bit with So Ah’s dad—that actually made me pause what I was doing. But they were few and far between. Most of the show felt like filler wrapped in pretty cinematography and slow-motion angst.

In the end, Bride of Habaek had a decent premise, but the execution fell flat. With more world-building, clearer plot arcs, and actual character depth, it could’ve been something magical. Instead, it’s a forgettable ride with a frustrating finish. I’m honestly shocked I didn’t drop it.

Would I watch it again? No.
Do I still have questions? Absolutely.
Would I recommend it? Only if you’re watching for the pretty faces and have a high tolerance for unfulfilled potential.

Read More

A Korean Odyssey — Fate, Chaos, and Romance Collide in a Supernatural Rollercoaster

📝Review (WARNING: Potential Spoilers — I’m Not Saving You from Emotional Damage)

From episode one, this show grabs you with its quirky charm and supernatural stakes. Son Oh Gong’s mischief, Ma Wang’s chaos, and the unexpected heart-tugging moments pull you in so fast you forget what’s real life. It’s like someone poured Journey to the West into a modern K-drama blender and then sprinkled a little chaos seasoning on top.

Fate, destiny, and demon politics collide, and the tension keeps you laughing and on edge at the same time. Jin Sun Mi navigates both chaos and affection with such patience it borders on heroic. Meanwhile, P.K., the pig demon, provides perfectly timed chaos that makes every episode unpredictable. The soundtrack deserves its own applause—NU’EST’s Let Me Out and Bumkey’s When I Saw You hit at the emotional peaks, making heartbreak and hilarity feel equally intense.

Every episode juggles heart, humor, and mythology seamlessly. The twists land, the emotional punches hit, and the pacing keeps you hooked without a single moment of filler. The ending wraps arcs beautifully while leaving room for your imagination. Son Oh Gong and Jin Sun Mi’s relationship blossoms naturally amidst the chaos, and Ma Wang’s antics, along with the demons and human drama, all converge satisfyingly.

💭 Final Mood:
Epic, witty, and weirdly romantic. A rare drama that makes you laugh, ache, and text your friends “I’m not okay” at 3 a.m.

Read More

The 2009 Melodrama That Outperformed My Entire 2024/2025 Watchlist

(WARNING: Potential Spoilers — I'm Not Saving You from any Emotional Damage)

First Impressions (and Immediate Emotional Destruction)
Listen. This drama was made in 2009, and it still wiped the floor with half of what came out in 2024. I’m usually not hooked in episode one—that’s rare for me—but by episode two or three? I was gone.

Productivity? Canceled.
Social life? Dead.
Water intake? Unclear.

Even the side characters didn’t annoy me, which is practically unheard of in Taiwanese family melodramas. Everyone had a purpose, and the story never tripped over itself trying to justify unnecessary screen time.

Early Arc: Campus, Bento Boxes, and Betrayals
The progression from Mu Cheng’s childhood trauma → university → romance buildup is chef’s kiss. Nothing abrupt. Nothing rushed.

Guang Xi starts off using her for a bet (classic). She kind of knows, kind of doesn’t care, and then life slaps both of them into emotional sincerity.

He’s traumatized, stubborn, and trying not to fall in love.
She’s wounded, principled, and impossible not to fall for.

Cue:

soft moments

small kindnesses

accidental emotional intimacy

trauma bonding that actually feels organic

Then—boom—brain tumor.

He tries to push her away because he thinks he’s dying (men).
She refuses (queen).
They get together.

Surgery, Lies, Stabbing, and Amnesia (The Megamix)
Mu Cheng agrees to leave him so he’ll get the life-saving procedure. Predictable? Yes. Still painful? Also yes.

Right before surgery, his mother—the CEO controlling the procedure—and one wildly incompetent anesthesiologist manage to ruin everything.

Guang Xi tries to stop her from leaving → gets stabbed by her predatory uncle → wakes up with full amnesia and a doctor’s daughter (Emily) hovering like a ghost of a “rich wife future” he never asked for.

Six Years Later: Flower Village of Feelings
Mu Cheng is surviving in a small village with her five-year-old son Xiao Le—diabetes, bravery, and heartbreak included.

Guang Xi is now a high-powered, morally dead lawyer engaged to Emily. Yawn.

A case sends him back to the village (because fate is messy and petty). He doesn’t recognize Mu Cheng, but she becomes his secretary, and Xiao Le immediately bonds with him.

Watching Guang Xi regain morality one small interaction at a time? Art.

CEO Schemes, Moral Whiplash, and Baby-Mama Drama
Guang Xi flips sides, fights for the villagers, grows closer to Mu Cheng, and unknowingly father-bonds with Xiao Le.

Then Emily shows up and drags him back to Taipei.

Xiao Le misses him so badly he literally runs away. Ends up sick. Ends up hospitalized. Ends up meeting grandma.

Tension everywhere.

Emily learns the truth.
The mother remains insufferable.
Mu Cheng remains exhausted.

Memory Restoration: CHAOS MODE ACTIVATED
Right before the wedding, Guang Xi finds the memory-card bracelet.

Images. Flashbacks. Emotional combustion.

He remembers everything.

He snaps. Breaks off the engagement. Yells at his mother. Pursues Mu Cheng with a mix of revenge, heartbreak, and longing he absolutely refuses to name.

Their marriage—forced by a custody threat—is peak Miscommunication Olympics. But the jealousy? The yearning? Whew.

Final Arc: Healing, Courtrooms, and Second Chances
Guang Xi defends Hua Tuo Ye in a murder case.
The mother softens.
Secrets unwind.
Everyone stops being stupid long enough to let love in.

And yes—Guang Xi and Mu Cheng finally get back together, because after all that emotional cardio, they earned it.

💭 Final Mood
“Emotionally shattered, spiritually uplifted, and now staring at my ceiling like it betrayed me — 10/10 would rewatch at 2 a.m.”

Read More