#apo colleagues

[ladypeonies]

If I had a face like his, I wouldn't use it for good as he does. I wished I was joking lol.

#apo nattawin #apo nattawin wattanagitiphat #apo colleagues

[apofilmsclub]

kinnporsche stills

#apo nattawin #nattawin wattanagitiphat #nattawin #kinnporsche #apo colleagues #kinnporsche the series #apocolleagues #nattawin icons #apo films #porsche pachara #kinn anakinn #kinn theerapanyakul #mileapo #films #greenyrose

[ticchina]

There is no way some of yall fuckers saw 2 hot men making out on tv and the first thought that came to you head was to have unhealthy obsession over only one of them and hate the other one with passion.

side eye

#girl this ain't competition #they are a duo #win is a win for them #there is a difference in having a preference and literally insulting and wishing the worst on your idols colleague & friend #get help #im being fr #get fucking help #also not some of yall acting like apo who literally followed mile tru all the shit and has daily making out sessions with him for WORK #would look at POND from all people 😭😭 #im sorry but you cannot be fr #mileapo #mile phakphum #apo nattawin #kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series

[boysbeloving]

MileApo (70) is higher on the ship list of tumblr's year in review than kinnporsche (81)

Nonnie!!!! how are you? <333

I saw liyazaki's post on this!

it was written 'kinn x porsche' in the post where the ranks are mentioned so i'm going by the exact wording of the tag

You know what nonnie....i feel a lot of 'kinn x porsche' ship tag got engulfed in the 'kinnporsche' tag itself...like i, for example, have tagged my original kinn and porsche content as 'kinnporsche' for the series and the ship too (i didn't make SO MUCH original content that it would actually make a dent in the stats but whatever 4 posts i made lol)....that tag served a dual purpose....so even if there is a LOT of kinn x porsche content here, it would be in the kinnporsche tag which is also the series tag

so the literal 'kinn x porsche' tag would rank lower than others....

mileapo (and the entire KP cast in fact ) are coming out with content even 5 months after the series ended so that's why they are within the first 100 tags! good for them! love them to pieces <3

#kinnporsche #i get moods when i'm VERY HAPPY thinking about mile and apo rutting against each other #but most of the times i'm VERY AWARE that they are colleagues and let me tell you it is a blessing to have good coworkers #and both mile and apo are aware of this fact and they respect it immensely...and respect and support each other for that reason as well #mutual respect and mutual trust and a good work ethic are paramount...everything else comes later #and if you get along with your coworkers and like them (not romantically) then that's a bonus #and mileapo have all that #bless them

[annamillersthings]

Just saw the most anticipated part of the episode 🗿 . There's a lot to unpack but i don't know what to say words have failed me 😶 like wow that was amazing not only because it was explicit but also beautiful and mile and apo were amazing like they are true professionals , the amount of trust and respect you need to have on your acting partner to do scenes like that . Wow . Kinn and Porsche relationship dynamic is very clear kinn will majorly f**k up , Porsche will then say some hurtful things then kinn will realise his mistake and almost loose him which prompts him to apologise and Porsche will literally melt as soon as he hears that sorry 😔. Is that toxic yes big time , to each their own it's working out for them at the moment so 🗿. That slap tho was deserved since ep 4 ( i wanted kinn to get slapped and shot since ep 4 both of those things happened so i am very satisfied) . Porsche saying the L word 🥺 was like my heart burst out and kinn's whole attitude shifted after that . This was an amazing ep ( expect tankkun wasn't there) it had everything drama, romance( and a lot more 🗿) , action they are getting better ep by ep .

This shot is just soo 🤌

#that was wow #my brain is fried #i don't know what to say #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche #mileapo #mile phakphum #apo nattawin #i was watching this ep on my work computer with my colleagues and we forgot to turn down the volume during the last part 🗿 #and a customer walked in just during that scene 🗿 #its fine i am sure she heard nothing 🗿 #i think

[chalkrevelations]

There are things I say to my partner in the privacy of our living room when I’m blowing off steam that I would never in my life say to friends or other family members or bosses or work colleagues or fellow community members. I do this not because I’m two-faced but because I’m human. I get frustrated, but I’m also a grownup who realizes that my frustrations and fears in that moment are not the entirety of who I am. I have a right to express them, but I do not have the right to inflict them on the people who would be hurt by them. That’s why those conversations happen in private, in a safe space of trust, where my relationship allows me to show my partner parts of me that aren’t perfect and allows my partner to show me that I don’t have to be perfect in order to deserve to be cared about. I get support through my petty moments until I can be a better person.

This latest attack on Build is a horrifying violation of privacy and trust that leaves me feeling literally nauseated. I once again reiterate that I don’t trust third-hand amateur fan translation to be accurate and contextual, particularly given the provenance of the material, but Build himself is apparently distressed enough by at least some part of the material to make a public apology. So, that being out there, I will say: This was a private matter that should have stayed private, out of respect for everyone involved. Whatever was actually said is nobody’s business except Build’s and now, unfortunately, any named individuals who this was inflicted on and who may have been hurt by it. Which, rest assured, was the intention - to hurt not only Build with this, but also, particularly, Apo and Bible, both of whom Poi has shown her dislike of and ill-will toward in the past. I suspect some people also don’t know how abuse works, and it shows, given that what was purportedly said is a reflection of Poi’s own views back at her.

Whatever the context, I see that purity cancel culture still insists on freezing people in amber in their worst moments - without recognition of any capacity for change or growth - as long as it provides ammunition for a smug, gleeful Particicution. You’re stuck on some unkind things Build supposedly said more than a year ago? Let me tell you what I’ll remember for the rest of my life: The small, broken sound of Build’s voice just a few months ago as he tried to protect Bible and Bible’s career from a sociopath, in a telephone call that he felt he needed to secretly record as evidence of how he was being manipulated and abused.

Meanwhile, I see that swathes of KP fandom continue to be complicit in Poi’s campaign of public and dehumanizing abuse of him, which now includes not only borderline revenge porn, but separating him from his friends and isolating him. This is what abuse looks like. It’s happening in front of your eyes. Do you even care? Do you actually, legitimately care about abuse, or is it just a tool for you to use to win petty shipwars and make yourself feel righteous? Because here it is. Take a good look. This is a textbook play. And if you’re participating in reposting those screenshots of private conversations and mocking Build’s relationships and spreading vituperative language about him and acting like he deserves to have his life and career destroyed, you’re enabling an abuser. You are aiding and abetting her, as the very scenario she threatened him with - in order to maintain access to him, to keep him under control and compliant - continues to get spun out. YOU are a bully and a hypocrite and an abuser, helping to prove that the most dangerous time for an abuse victim is when they leave.

But I guess some victims do have to be perfect, huh?

.

(ETA: 7/18/23, 1520 - This post is being linked on Twitter by @cherryluminary with my permission. I'm not over there, but I increasingly feel like it's important to name what's happened, and continues to happen, to Build online as what it is - abuse. Similar to to my last post that breached containment, I'm going to ask people to remember that the behavior of Build's fans reflects on him - however fair that may or may not be - and should remain above reproach. I understand being angry - I'm angry, and at more people than I've discussed publicly, at this point. But if I find out you've been descending anywhere near the level of the ugly little sociopath in my inbox who openly admitted they want Build to kill himself, I'll block you.)

#build jakapan #do NOT show your ass in my inbox or anonymous will be turned off

[discluded]

About negative comments..

A: I don’t care about those negative comments. Better not to pay attention to them.

R: What can u say about those who threatens to k u on social media?.

A: In Po’s corner, my life is happy already. If problem arises, bring it on.

(translation) - this is an alt view with a focus on Mile's expression when Apo says that.

Apo: if you want me dead come kill me yourself

Mile: babe I know you know I'm strong but I don't know if I'm strong enough to fight did 50 assassins for you

🤭😅🤣

My beautiful unbothered king 😘

(Google translate is so real for this)

Apo says remember to take care of yourselves babes colleagues 😅

#mileapo #kinnporsche #man suang #mile phakphum #apo nattawin #apo is a mood my default setting is also fight me

[matan4il]

Today is Mother's Day in Thailand, and both Mile and Apo were with their parents. Mile posted from an outing with his family (possibly from Kalasin), while fans ran into Apo with his parents in Bangkok.

Interestingly, Mile also shared a pic of his guitar in a room with the caption "Miss Miss." The pic is probably from his jam session that he recorded (based on his outfit) on Jul 10. "Miss Miss" is also the message that he posted when Apo was in Bangkok while Mile was in Paris working for Guerlain, back on Jul 25 and then again on Jul 26.

Apo was seen today using the Guerlain lip balm, named Kiss Kiss.

Here's Mile in Paris on Jul 27, raving about how this product really keeps a person's lips soft:

How do you know, Mile? (remember, he represents Guerlain's perfume. As far as anyone's aware, he was not hired to advertise their lip balms)

I try not to post if I see someone has already shared the same thing I wanted to, unless I feel like I have something of interest to add. So, hopefully I did. But just in case, here's also my gifs for one of my fave moments from the press conference on Aug 8 that I don't believe has been addressed here yet:

It's the way Apo seems to be looking for something, bending forward, Mile notices and starts to as well, they talk about whatever it is, meanwhile to Apo's right you can see Bas, Apo's good friend and his colleague on KPTS and Man Suang (i.e same acting projects as Mileapo) and he's completely indifferent to whatever is happening to his left. Because Apo and Bas are friends. Apo and Mile are a unit.

#mileapo #mkp #mile phakphum #mile phakphum romsaithong #phakphum romsaithong #apo nattawin #apo nattawin wattanagitiphat #nattawin wattanagitiphat #man suang #man suang cast #kinnporsche #kinnporsche cast #kinnporsche the cast #kpts cast #kpts the cast #mileapodaily

[maraschino-girl]

pachinko 🎰 { part 1 }

✐ Yoshikage Kira makes a gamble when New York City becomes his new hunting ground, and he soon realizes the prize he's heading toward isn't the one he bargained for. Yoshikage Kira / Patrick Bateman

moriohpsycho AU

~6k words

multi-chapter, 80's-90's era

blood and gore, homophobia, drug use, explicit content

warning ‼️ two depraved serial killers being themselves

✦ NOTES : i have no words... except idk how this happened LMFAO ♡✮☁️✧˖ AO3 °⋆💿。°✩

My name is Yoshikage Kira. First name is Yoshikage. Last name is Kira. I’m partially named after my father, and I was considered his pride and joy. 

I’m 33-years-old, not married, and I used to live in the villas of Morioh. I had worked in Kame-yu Department regional management office. It was menial work but I enjoyed it. It was repetitive, it was a routine, it was predictable. I lived a quiet, humble life. My favorite movie is The Remains of the Day, and my favorite designer brands include Valentino and Gianfranco Ferré. 

I no longer reside in Japan due to an incident, one I prefer to not discuss at this moment, but this little incident forced me to flee my town and take refuge somewhere where those ants can’t find me. They can’t find me anyhow, all thanks to my Bites the Dust, though despite this, I’m cashing in my insurance just in case.

If I had to pick any city in the world, I wouldn’t say New York City was my first choice; it’s an overwhelming, bustling metropolis with eyes everywhere, both robotic and human, and from what I’ve heard, riddled with crime and filth. But, I’ve soon learned that it’s easy to be alone in a crowd, and there’s nothing wrong with ‘competition’, petty criminals who can take all those mechanical eyes off of me. They want to be seen, they want to be noticed and even hailed for their art. I do not. I have no need for it. 

What I do need though is a way to perfectly mesh with this new crowd of mine, and this group of… what do you call them? Yuppies, preppies? Or, Ivy League brats if you’re bitter and sipping beer on the side of 5th Avenue (She had the most disgusting hands I’ve ever seen). 

These preppy scholars and businessmen on Wall Street and inside Pierce & Pierce, my dwelling for the next whoever knows how long, adorn themselves with muted hues and statement accessories. I have to switch out my ‘lilacs’ and ‘baby blues’ for ‘eggplant’ and ‘elegant navies’. My ties at least can stay as far as I’m concerned; I’ve seen worse patterns on arguably more fashionable people. 

Manhattan has a plethora of designer stores, so many in fact I’m on the verge of an anxiety attack. I’ve had a painful lunch with a Charles McBride, an audacious man but a colleague first and foremost, and I tried to discuss the plans for the fiscal quarter but he wasn’t having it– the entire conversation replays in my head while I’m attempting to maneuver the streets, only serving to worsening the panic inside me. Any store will do, any at all, and so I slip inside a Bergdorf Goodman. I nearly go in a circle due to the revolving doors but luckily no one catches my faux pas.

I didn’t know what a Bergdorf was, but now knowing it’s a department store relieves my anxiety. 

Kimiko, my lady since I arrived in New York, hardly comforts me now when I entwine my fingers with hers, and the sickeningly sweet scent of rot is beginning to put me off, so I walk towards the fragrances. 

I could get her something with notes of orange blossom and peony, or something sultry with cinnamon and leather, but that thought is cut short when a woman hunts me down from behind. I’m looking at the collection of Dior perfumes when she pops up, her voice extremely loud and shaky. A new girl, perhaps?

“Hello, sir! I see you’re checking out our Miss Dior! This is a very lovely perfume, suitable for the very lovely lady in your life! Um, would you like a sample?” She waves a thin white strip in front of me, and oh my god, her—

Spritz. 

I gasp when the perfume incinerates my eyes, her string of apologies piercing my ears just as badly. She immediately fetches me a wet napkin, trying to help me rub my eyes but I yank the napkin away from her. Through my stinging, blurry vision, I hold up her right hand.

“That is a beautiful, uh, ruby ring you have on,” I swallow thickly, blinking frantically. “Sterling silver and ruby, very nice.” It’s a bead of blood atop of a milky white canvas, oh my. 

“Why, thank you!” she gleams. I hold her gaze, enticing her, and forcefully crinkle my eyes. She has rather pretty eyes and a bright smile, albeit overlined with a crisp apple red. The red doesn’t shine as well on her face as it does around her fingers. Her name tag says ‘JENNIFER’. 

Jennifer briefly checks me out, then scrunches her brow. “Gosh, I’m just a klutz today! I’m so sorry.” 

“No need to apologize, really. Mistakes happen,” I reply, a tad confused, until she holds up Kimiko. My heart freezes, the blasting muzak slows down as she casually handles my now ex-girlfriend. 

“Matthew, one of the assistants must’ve dropped this when setting up the display. We’re not usually so messy!” 

The gold bangle I gifted Kimiko hides the jagged edges of her wrist, and her decomposition has sucked out the apricot tone she used to have. I continue to stare because frankly there’s nothing else I can do at this moment. Except, maybe cry— that’s a big possibility. 

Jennifer giggles, “Listen, I’ll take this back to our storage and I’ll ring you up for the Miss Dior, yeah?”

I open my mouth but it takes great strength to speak. “Yes. Yeah, that’s fine. Um, are the registers near your storage?”

“Yeah, there’s one right by the cosmetics, if you don’t mind following me.”

“I don’t mind, no.” Go. Go! Go! Go! “I actually need to hurry to my office after this, so please, with haste.”

“Of course! C’mon, follow me.” She plucks a plastic-wrapped package of Miss Dior off the shelf and points toward the glossy collections of cosmetics. I ensure no one is really paying attention, and of course, the few patrons around are engrossed in their shopping. 

Jennifer sets the item on the cash register and tells me she will be right back. I huff, and give one last sweep of the store, and trace her steps into the EMPLOYEES ONLY swing door. I don’t bother to hide my footfalls due to her heels echoing through the concrete maze of these back rooms. All I need is privacy, and I need something, anything to aid me, although simply choking her isn’t ruled out yet. 

She doesn’t have a care in the world, doesn’t have a single instinct to look over her shoulder. There’s another door at the far end of the narrow hallway that she disappears into, and I’ll follow her there too, but first:

A giant sapphire and glass star-shaped perfume bottle on a wire shelf catches my attention. It’s asymmetrically shaped, and looks like it belongs atop a Christmas tree, but I deduce it must be for advertising purposes. It’s dense, sturdy, and particularly sharp. I may have had an incident but it seems my luck has yet to run out. This is not an ideal location, none of this is remotely ideal, but there’s not much to be done about it. Besides, Killer Queen didn’t gift me intelligence and charm, only an easy way out. I will do as I’ve always done and I will win. 

I will do what it takes to retain my comfort and happiness, and live my life to the fullest. 

✃ ✃ ✃

I’m having lunch with Patrick Bateman, a coworker, and his friends slash fellow coworkers Timothy Price, David Van Patten, and Craig McDermott at a “trendy” restaurant called Flamingo East. Apparently, a couple other bankers will be joining us but they have yet to do so; I’m fine with that. 

I’m familiar with Mr. Bateman. He has the office right next to mine, but I see more of his secretary than I do of him. The scarce moments we share are somewhat bizarre, and I can’t quite place my finger on what exactly makes them bizarre, they just are. He’s cordial, refined, and narcissistic, much like the others— they’re a breed of their own, a species known only to the rich New England coast, but he still stands out. I’d like to say I’m perceptive, I have to be, and if I have suspicions about someone I’m usually correct. 

I also notice that Mr. McDermott and I are wearing the same cologne, Drakkar Noir, a scent laden with lemon, mint, lavender, and bergamot. Either this cologne is thicker than I anticipated or he’s doused himself in it— either way, it’s comforting blending in. 

I’m wearing a double breasted linen-and-cotton suit in the shade ‘imperial violet’, a subdued deep purple, a ‘nude periwinkle’ button down cotton shirt that looks off-white in this bright lighting, all by Cerruti 1881. My silk tie is by Alexander Julian, and it has a striped pattern in shades of ‘egg yolk’, ‘vanilla’, and ‘charcoal’; the pattern reminds me of the candy sticks in a sweets shop in Morioh. I met an ex-girlfriend there, now that I look back on it. She always bought matcha tea cakes, every day at 5 pm, like clockwork. 

Well, there’s no time for nostalgia right now. I open the briefcase that’s sitting on my lap. 

“Mr. Van Patten, I have papers regarding the—”

“Hey, hey,” he holds a hand up, “We’re not doing that right now.” 

He then makes a neck-slicing gesture, probably telling me to shut up. He’s at least nicer than his friends. With his round glasses and round brown eyes, he looks borderline puppy dog-ish. I avert my eyes and purse my lips to avoid smirking, lest they start naming me that vulgar word they assign to any man in a one meter radius. 

“My apologies.” 

Mr. McDermott speaks up next. “This is lunch, we’re drinking, having a good time, no time for that shit.”

I nod my head in understanding and put away my briefcase. Does anyone here actually work, or is it purely kept to the office? Hm. 

“So, what are we having?” Patrick asks the table. 

I pick up the menu then, and furrow my brows at the options. Fine dining is, uh, fine dining, I suppose. 

“Two J&B’s, or three?” Mr. Price asks me. 

I clear my throat. “Two, I’ll just have the dry martini.” 

“Fruity,” one of them says under their breath. I don’t even bother. 

There’s a salmon plate topped with chives and soy sauce, with a side of mashed red pepper sweet potatoes and honeyed zucchini and squash. That’s appetizing. There’s also an ‘organic’ strawberry jello salad mixed with manzanilla olives and cream cheese. Less appetizing. 

Mr. McDermott decides to bestow a secret upon us. “I heard they serve shark here.”

“Yeah, and there’s a leprechaun in Turtle Bay that hands out free vials of crack.” 

“No, really man, if you tell the waiter a code or something, the chef will hand you a cloche that has a fucking shark fin under it.” 

Mr. Price rolls his eyes. “You think the waiter would care if I asked him to drown you in the fountain over there?” 

“The waiter looks like a faggoty actor-in-training, so give him a good tip, or just like, you know, your dick and maybe he will.” 

“Did I tell you guys that Sabrina—”

“Which one?”

“You don’t know this one. Anyway, she was blowing me the other night and the stupid bitch used her teeth.” Mr. Van Patten gags. 

Everyone at the table including me inwardly cringes. 

“I was like, the fuck you using your teeth for? I’m already circumcised, and thanks to you, I’m now soft. She kept trying to suck on my flaccid dick and the whole thing was just fucking weird.” 

“She was what?”

“You didn’t slap her? Kick her out?”

“I kicked her out right after that. And she’s been blowing up my receiver ever since. Give me another chance, David, please!” he mocks. 

“I mean, if she’s willing to suck a softie…”

“She does have nice tits,” Mr. Van Patten admits. Their conversation dies down and slowly they turn their attention on me. I hold my breath and pretend I’m deciding on my order. 

“What’s your type, Kira?” The million dollar question. 

This is no group to be cheeky with, and too intelligent of an answer will cause me more harm than good. I choose carefully. “I do, uh, have an affinity for blondes.”

They nod.

“You like ditzy? Ditzy is cute. Patrick?”

He shrugs; I don’t know him well but he’s quiet this morning. I answer instead. “I’d prefer ditzy over arrogant and obnoxious.” 

“Yep, yep.” 

Mr. Bateman suddenly gets up and mumbles about heading to the bathroom. Mr. Price follows him with his gaze and has an amused smile, a knowing smile as he sips his drink. I shouldn’t be nosy but it’s common here apparently to gossip. I too watch him then lean over and whisper. 

“Is he sick?” I feign concern. For a moment I wonder if he really is sick, placebo already hitting me with a bomb of nausea in my stomach. 

Mr. Price scoffs. “He isn’t sick, he’s balls deep in Halcion. Did you see his eyes?”

They laugh at him. “His pupils are bigger than the fucking plates.” 

I’m not entirely sure what that is but I refuse to ask for obvious reasons. The waitress, caked up in makeup and her hair crunchy with Aquanet, takes our drink orders and promptly skitters off. I noticed these things because her nails were crooked, one literally twice the size of the others, and she was noisily smacking gum in her mouth. So garish. 

Mr. Bateman returns simultaneously as our drinks arrive, and he wastes no time in downing his. He whispers, “Nice tits” under his breath as our waitress leaves, and then says something else that astounds me. “Did you know I chopped off an East Villager’s hand and jerked off with it?”

I stare at Mr. Bateman as he announces this. He sips his whiskey, and annoyingly shakes his leg, vibrating the table. I look toward our colleagues, back to him, to his friends, back to him. No one says anything. Actually, his friends are too busy fawning over a ‘hardbody’ writing down another table’s order. 

“C’mon, she’s smokin’!”

“Nah, nah, no.” Mr. Price is as picky as ever. “Look at her hips.”

“What? You don’t like Coke bottles?”

“I like coke-caine. And Diet Coke, which maybe she should drink more of.” 

“Wow.”

“Yeah, he’s kinda right. I think I saw her before, in the strings section of the New York Philharmonic.” 

Mr. Bateman and I are in our own little bubble. I almost want to reply, but with what? Oh, that’s a hobby of mine as well! Are you like me? Did you also see the wonderful ad in Times Square for Tiffany & Co. and had to rush home for relief? 

No, no— he might’ve said this expecting a response. He must know. How could he know? It wouldn’t make sense, I’ve covered my tracks! Or, so I thought. Is he stalking me? Is he aware of how often I daydream about my past girlfriends? Does he know about Jennifer? Has he seen Jennifer? There’s no other reason as to why he would make such a remark unless to evoke me! But what would he gain? What could he possibly gain from terrifying me?

I don’t realize I’m breathing hard until Mr. Van Patten nudges my shoulder. 

“Dude, you okay?”

“Pretty sure he’s tweaking.” 

I snap back, “No, I’m not. I’m fine. Um, I apologize.” I wipe my brow with a handkerchief. “It’s quite warm in here.” 

They don’t believe me but luckily, they don’t care either. I glance back toward Mr. Bateman who’s silently mouthing the appetizers as he reads off the menu. He’s unaffected. He’s strange. 

I don’t care for strange men. 

✃ ✃ ✃

I didn’t think I’d replace Jennifer so quickly, but with a city so vast and brimming with the prettiest the States has to offer, I guess it was inevitable. And in that same vein, it’s inevitable that I would end up erasing evidence in the fashion of a stereotypical killer. 

I drag Heather’s remains, a garbage bag stretched wide with the unnecessary parts of her, and a few miscellaneous things I filled it with to rid the bag of its human body shape. Again, this is not suitable for me, and I don’t like being reminded of what life was like prior to attaining Killer Queen. The act feels dirty, in a more ragged, mask-wearing type of way, and elementary, too. This is how others do this? Who has the time? Who has the attention to detail, and how do they deal with the constant anxiety of covering their tracks?

It reminds me of the last night Heather drew breath and she made me watch a horror film about a deadly surgeon. Despite eagerly returning home with me, she refused to let me get any closer to her even when she squealed and jumped at horribly-designed reanimated zombies. I even tried to kiss her on the lips, which mind you was the last thing I wanted to do, but it was a perfect segway to twist her figure around and hack off my prize, the true beauty, the love of my life. 

And yet, she freaked out when I touched her waist, and lo and behold, a brand new suit was ruined from head to toe (which is also stuffed inside with Heather). The film kept playing as I cleaned up the mess, and—

Oh, yes, that’s why I brought that up… Well, it doesn’t matter. The clean-up of a botched murder is the bane of my existence. That’s all. 

My stroke of luck shines when I find a dumpster right behind the apartment building I live in. It’s somewhat hidden, though not entirely thanks to the splattering of windows, some lit some completely black, that look down on the alley. Considering I’ve caught domestic violence, passionate love making, and other embarrassing acts through neighbors’ windows, there’s definitely nothing interesting about an innocent man and his garbage. 

I wipe my brow and drag the bag another few meters before pausing again. You don’t realize how heavy a dead woman is until you have to dump her body. I’m tired, and want this over with so I can finish my stretching routine— I bought a book the other day that lists basic yoga positions to help loosen the hip flexors, a recent issue of mine— and listen to Mariya Takeuchi’s Variety album on the turntable I bought at Radio Shack. If I can hurry through this, expertly, I will be rewarded a lovely evening with my new girlfriend. 

“Ha! Look at us! Both dumping bodies!”

Freeze. I slowly turn my head while feeling for the handle of the knife in my coat pocket. 

A man carrying two bulging garbage bags of his own stands at the opposite end of the alleyway where it opens up to the main street. The shadow of the lamplights briefly obscure his face but he walks closer, and I see a goofy grin and wrinkles. 

“This is the only dumpster I’ll go to ‘round here honestly, because the college kids that live below me fill the other one up to the brim, can you believe that?” He closes the distance between us and he lets go of his bags to place his hands on his rounded, lumpy hips. 

“Uh.” I lick my lips then smack them. “Yeah, I can.”

“I mean this city is crazy, real crazy, and my wife always told me that this wasn’t a good decision but I couldn’t stand the heat down in Austin anymore, I just couldn’t. I mean, us old folks, just me by the way, not you, haha, you’re a handsome fellow, very sharply dressed! You should have a raincoat or somethin’, it’s been real stormy out, you don’t wanna ruin your like, Gew-chi suit, anyway—”

I’m still hunched over, Heather’s casket clutched in my hand. He hasn't studied its’ off putting shape, thank God, but this is too close for comfort. 

“Are you new to the city?” he suddenly asks. 

“Well—”

“There’s not a lot of neighborly love ‘round here, at least that’s how it feels to me. There’s no more lemonade on the porch and chit-chattin’ with Bobby, just drinking Bud Light and sweepin’ cigarette ashes on my balcony ‘cause of those gawd-dayum NYU kids. That’s so selfish, ain’t it?”

“Sure.”

“I just don’t care for it. That, and the winters are real brutal. Cold and icy as all hell.”

I don’t even want to entertain this, and yet: “I would say Hell isn’t very icy at all.” 

As expected, he doesn’t hear me. “It’s irritatin’! But my wife, you know, she loves the lights, the hustle and bustle, the cute little shops and the expresso machines.” 

I’m beginning to get a migraine. 

“Also, the Chinese food. We only had one Chinese buffet when growin’ up, and I got food poisoning every single time. They told me it was the MSG. What do you think?”

Sir, sir, this is so very interesting, I’m genuinely engaged and wish to further this arousing conversation but I would much prefer if you just turned around so I can get this over with. 

Beyond this man, I catch a Valentino suit and head of slicked-back brown hair standing at an ATM. He looks stick-like from this far out, but I can pick out those broad shoulders and tense stance out of a sea of stockbrokers. It’s as if he can’t relax, always coiled up like a viper readying to attack; that’s smart of him, especially while I’m around. 

This man is rambling on about sales taxes and humidity, grating my ears and blocking my vision every time I peer around him. Mr. Bateman counts clean cash with elegant, black gloves on and starts walking with confidence he doesn’t deserve. Frustration is getting the better of me— he’s finally alone, very likely unarmed, and I’m about to lose a golden opportunity all because of this man!

Even when I attempt to interject with kind courtesy and ‘oh, of course, yes, but you see’, he steamrolls me. I give up then, and heave Heather and her garbage over the rim of the dumpster. Thump! She goes. This is your cue now, sir. Throw your things away and leave me alone. 

“Sir,” I cut through him with a stern, deep voice. “I have to get home, if you excuse me. I have to… feed my girlfriend, she’s been alone all day.” 

Awkward pause. 

The man chuckles. “Is your girlfriend a cat?”

“Yes. Excuse me.” I brush past him and with great relief, he shuts up. 

I count ten steps down the street, hearing the thuds of him tossing his garbage in the dumpster, and I count two seconds exactly before I turn on my heel, speed back the way I came and pounce on the defenseless man while his back is turned. My knife is sharp and easily cleaves through his spine and shoulder blades as I relentlessly stab him, enough so in such rapid succession he can hardly scream. By the time he can open his mouth, his lungs have already filled with blood and so his agonized cries are guttural and bubbly. He reaches out, for what I don’t know, maybe trying to crawl away from me, but it’s no use. His thick denim jacket soaks up most of the damage, and it’s only my gloves that are soiled. That’s fine, really, it’s a miniscule consequence. 

Now that he’s mincemeat and paralyzed, on the verge of death if not deceased already, I flick my head to fix the tendrils of hair that have fallen in my face. I’ll leave his corpse; there’s a stabbing or a mugging printed every morning in the newspaper, and I doubt anyone will be questioning an older gentleman being assaulted on his nightly routine. The alleyways are dangerous, as you know. Wrong place, wrong time; it can happen to anyone. 

I take another deep breath and search for Mr. Bateman, who is nowhere to be found. He went west, but there are a million doors and stops and shops and whatever else that way. Besides, even if he were right in front of me, it’d be hard to conceal bloodied hands and my frenzied disposition. I lust to take him down and for that reason, I have to be careful.

Sigh. 

Until next time, Mr. Bateman. 

✃ ✃ ✃

The next excursion that the fine men at Pierce & Pierce have decided on is a rendezvous at a place called Nell’s. It’s not quite a dance club, and it’s too unpleasant to be a chill rooftop bar. The shift between neon and darkness is nauseating, and they seem to have both the ceiling fans on full blast as well as the heated conditioning. I’m sweating yet chilled to the bone. I had to skip lunch due to the piles of paperwork stacked on my desk and I’m feeling the effects of an empty stomach. Apparently, the others have secretaries who do the menial work, but I am without a lady to sign off and look at these documents for me so I wasted my entire day, all 10 hours of it on reading what might as well have been hieroglyphics. 

The silver lining to my mundane day is that I managed to find Mr. Bateman’s full address in his secretary’s desk once everyone else had left. That woman didn’t bother to lock any of the drawers, how naive considering there’s sensitive financial information in those folders. Not my problem. What’s next is figuring out when to use this key— I realized he lived rather close to me, another stroke of my luck, but I have to plan ahead. I could directly follow him home and stage a break-in; still easier said than done. 

I stash away my plans for now. 

It’s nearly 8 pm, right when I would be winding down for bed, when I’m interrupted. A colleague named Tom Hamlin called me asking if I minded meeting him tonight to discuss ‘important matters’. Like the hardworking man I am, I readily accepted and very shortly after, ‘important matters’ became a party invitation. Mr. Hamlin had me start at Harry’s to join up with none other than Patrick Bateman, Craig McDermott, and two other men I didn’t recognize, Victor Powell and George Reeves.

I hanged in the back of the group, intently watching Mr. Bateman who was glaring razor sharp daggers at Mr. Powell— I was oddly curious about why that was, as the former had a semi-permanent scowl, and to see this visceral hate directed towards someone who wears Valentino like him (like me), had slicked-back hair like him (and like me), and even had a resembling smirk, is fascinating. What is so striking about him? One might think of the common petty reasons: found cheating on his girlfriend, stole a deal from him, maybe even openly mocked him, like a bullying situation, but my perfect intuition tells me it’s much deeper than that. 

Hm. It shouldn’t matter anyhow. Mr. Powell won’t have to worry about his “biggest fan” much longer. 

Inside Nell’s, we sit in an open circle-shaped booth with me at one end and my target at the other. When we make eye contact, I smile but he doesn’t return it. How snobbish. 

They’re sharing the menu and I patiently wait my turn, my hands clasped on my lap. I want to leave. I planned a date with Heather, and it’s unacceptable that I can’t even attend my own planned date. I’m starving, I’m thirsty, I refuse to look at the menu right now. So, when the waiter comes by wanting our orders, I ask for a glass of ice water, to the bemusement of my colleagues. 

“Hard liquor ages you,” is what I say when one of them persists to bug me. My response hits where it hurts, and I hide my joy when he then questions his drink of choice. 

“Hamlin, can you score tonight?”

“Uh, duh! I’m way ahead of you.” 

“It’s not from that same guy, right? What’s his name, Carlos?”

“Ricardo.” 

The waitress at the booth behind us has wonderfully long, luscious fingers. Her jingly diamond bracelet accentuates her tan skin so well, and those curved, almond-shaped purple nails. My god. I wonder if I should drop Heather (we’ve only dated for 5 days, that’s a little short, isn’t it?), and too late do I look over to them shuffling out of the other end of the booth. I briefly panic. 

I might stay and rope the waitress into coming home with me, but I also don’t want to be left with a pricey bill because I’m the ‘newbie’ from Japan. Irritated, I follow after, barely keeping them in my sight through the winding hallways. They end up in the men’s bathroom, half of the group idling at the sinks while the other half, including Mr. Bateman squeeze into a wider stall. 

I manage to fit in at the same time that Mr. Price sprinkles a mound of white powder onto an upside-facing mirror bolted to the wall. I may have been a mere office worker, but I’m not naive— that is a drug I recognize. I only knew of one person, a dolt from University, who had the guts to snort it before exams. I almost snitched on him when he was licking it from his hand in the middle of the train platform, but I figured his idiocy would be his downfall. I figured too, not my business. I was proven right during the exams themselves! I don’t know what cocaine entirely does, and it’s very likely he had a cocktail of substances in his system because he was whispering to his pencil as if it was an omniscient deity. 

Anyway, I prefer to not begin whispering to inanimate objects as well, and I let my turn pass me up. Mr. Van Patten uses a handkerchief and wipes his brow, staring me down. Please don’t. 

“Not interested, huh?”

I ponder this deeply, ignoring how Mr. Bateman judges me too. “I’m not fond of it, to be honest.” 

“Have you tried it? I bet the stuff in Japan isn’t as good.”

“Not particularly,” I stutter a bit, and that entices them further. 

“He’s scared, dude.” 

“He’s a straight-edge, of course he hasn’t had the good shit.”

“What are you afraid of? You’re not gonna explode from it. It’s fucking cocaine, not bath salts.” 

Mr. Bateman fixates me with a lopsided grin. “What a loser. More for me, I guess.” 

I’m not acting right. This isn’t me. I don’t give into peer pressure, this isn’t Mr. Kira, and yet before I register it, I’ve picked up the rolled dollar bill and sniffed a skinny line. I clear my throat and at first, I don’t think I even snorted anything, until my nostril burns. They hoot and holler, congratulating me on popping some cherry. I blink rapidly, my right eye now stinging. What am I doing?

I just stand there, back against the metal stall. Deep breath, in and out. This too shall pass. I’ll wait it out and then go home, stretch, have my glass of milk, and sleep peacefully with my girlfriend. Remember, anything that gives effects fast, exits the body fast. I nod to myself. It’ll work out! It always does!

Besides, I don’t feel different but I might be expecting too much from a drug that resembles sugar. Actually, one of them just commented that the last gram was ‘NutraSweet’, so, there’s a chance this is all a placebo effect. Watching these men in their tight suits, wallets stuffed with cash and their ‘AmEx’, glittering jewelry, and they’re high off sugar. Damn sugar. Ha. That is hilarious. 

My, my, just like the girl I dated after I finished my college education! She would sip sake, wait, no it wasn’t even sake, it was water! Water! She had made an utter fool of herself, and jumped onto a table at the restaurant she had stringed me along to, and she subsequently fell, nearly cracked her skull open. 

We were kicked out, both of us, even though I was the pinnacle of elegance in my seat. She made a whole show, basically an educational presentation, of why I should come home with her, and yes, she was an easy catch, and her hands were softer than velvet, prettier than her objectively attractive face, but I couldn’t stand her whiny attitude so I had left her crying on the street. 

She really thought I would have sex with her after that? 

“What’s so funny, dude?” Puppy-eyes says. Why does he look so sad? So concerned? 

My cackling echoes in the steel stalls, matching the thunderous tempo of some pop singer’s hit song upstairs. I don’t know what’s so funny, to be honest, but I can’t stop. I cover my face for a moment, my shoulders shaking, and I find solace in a cold corner. 

My diaphragm aches and my sinuses are unbearably dry, yet my teeth rattle and the corners of my lips twitch into a smile I can’t stop. I lick my lips, tasting metal, over, and over, and over—

“Victor, how tight was Francine?” 

“Pretty sure she’s a virgin. Or, was.” Hiss, smoke pours out of his mouth. 

“Ha, Bateman said she was loose.” 

He furrows his brow and frowns, as if it pains him to say, “Loosest fucking slut I’ve met.” 

Another plume of smoke. I’m dizzy. “Really? She was tight, man. Maybe your dick’s tiny.” 

They guffaw like hyenas and I make eye contact with Mr. Bateman. This isn’t the first time, and surely won’t be the last, that he’s the target of their pissing contests. Judging by his expression, the routine is stale. He’s looking through me, briefly, and indifference morphs into unbridled, sinister glee. 

“I think I might chop your dick off, fry it, and throw it to the pigeons.” 

The booming laughter doesn’t cease, in fact, one of them slaps his shoulder while he barely contains some need for violence. He pierces his cuticles with his thumbnail, much like I am doing right now.

Is that all you want to do? After he humiliated you?

“No. I actually might fry your whole body and feed you to the homeless, you bucktoothed bastard.” 

Mr. Bateman rubs the rest of the powder onto his gums, and the sight of his fingers caressing his wetted lips, going inside his mouth, it’s—

It’s—

What? It’s what? 

I clench my eyes. I need to leave now. I can not be here anymore, it is not worth it. I am vulnerable and in a state I do not wish to be in.

Someone pats me, hard, on the back but I don’t turn around, feeling stuck in place. In slow motion, his voice reverberates. 

“Killer.” 

“What?” My heart sinks. 

“Kira, your nose is bleeding, dude.” 

I wipe at my nose and brush away the stains on my bloody knuckles. I am not feeling well. 

I’m growing erect, for an unknown reason, and I’m acutely aware of everything around me. The stifling cologne, the fluorescent lighting, the waterfalls crashing in the sinks outside the stall, the snorting and flushing, the vibration of my own hands. I haven’t trimmed my nails in quite some time. I should do that when I return home. 

⭀ To be continued⥫

#american psycho #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo's bizarre adventure #patrick bateman #writers on tumblr #kira yoshikage #moriohpsycho #teehee #make sure you listen to sussudio and love my way when reading !!

[moerusai]

Can Man Suang replicate Pee Mak box office success?

Pee Mak is a 2013 horror comedy. With a box office of over one billion baht, it is the highest grossing Thai movie of all time.

The highest grossing Thai movie until Pee Mak unseated it, was The Legend of Suriyothai (Mile named it as one of his inspirations in the Standard Pop interview).

Here are some fun coincidences between them:

Both are set in 19th century Siam.

The leading actors of Pee Mak - Mario and Mai Davika, were Apo's colleagues (heh) at CH3. They starred together in Buang Banjathorn (2017), a hit historical drama.

Apo & Mario are still good friends. The latter even came to support Apo at the last KPWT concert.

Meanwhile, Mai Davika & Apo reunited in the most dazzling way at the Bulgari event last November.

(Apo seems to get along well with people whose names start with M 🤭)

They are talented and beautiful people and I'm really, really rooting for their reunion at the Man Suang Gala Premiere and maybe even at the top of the Thai box office ranking 🕯️🙏🕯️

#man suang #pee mak #thai cinema #apo nattawin #mario maurer #mai davika #moerusai #Pee Mak is the gold standard of slapstick horror comedy #Man Suang is an entirely different beast #but I can't wait for the resounding wave it'll create #mansuang

[apofilmsclub]

im upset icb they weren't able to take a solo shot of this apo nattawin :<

#apo colleagues #apo nattawin #nattawin wattanagitiphat #nattawin #kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche world tour

[ticchina]

You know what I need? A mileapo documentary.

That would be a fucking game changer.

BL industry worldwide, especially in asian countries, lacks open-minded, intelligent and educated people, ironically. Which both Mile and Apo are.

I wanna hear them talk in detail about their experiences in life, how they got to the point they are at, how they met and how their meeting affected their lives outside of gaining fame. From what I can tell by their latest interviews, they feel much more comfortable and open around each other, people around them and the world, with the help of one-another. I wanna know more. I want to see them just have a conversation about any topic in the world, maybe even about their duo itself. What does it feel like to be partnered up with a man for the first time? how do they feel about representing queer community? how long are they hoping to stay together in this? what do they think comes next? Has their mindset about life & love changed after working on Kinnporsche? Do they share most of their opinions? They are pretty fucking different.

What's their daily life like? Because these mfs are BOOKED, like to the point that I cannot even keep up, how do they manage to keep up? How much do they rely on each other when it gets too tiring or too stressful? How do they deal with said stress?

How Mile manages to balance his rich CEO alpha life with queer art he creates with probably the sweetest man that has ever walked on earth? How did he come to the realization of "yeah I could do this for sure". Yea sorry, it's a big step over here, so did he face any backlash for it? Especially coming from such a huge background? Did he not care? Bc he seems like he couldn't care less about what anyone thinks, both his pants and pockets are full, mf has life figured out.

How did Apo manage to gain strength to come back? And MAKE A COMEBACK. Running away as a kid from homophobic industry, to coming back as an adult and playing a masculine bottom. Was it hard for him? Of course it was, but I mean, was it hard waiting for the response of the public? Was it hard getting into the role, knowing at the back of his mind what his former colleagues would think? Did he also not care? Did Mile make it easier for him? Why did he decide to come back after so many years? Did he finally feel strong enough mentally? Was this his way of taking revenge for what his younger self had to endure? Did he talk about his experiences with Mile? Of course he did, I just wanna know how it went down. Does he plan on continuing being in the industry?

Do they think, they could continue on in the industry, without each other?

They have such a beautiful way of expressing themselves, beautiful ways of viewing life and people different from them, they are so fucking accepting and understanding of others. What did it take to get there?

Most of these things are topics that Mile and Apo have touched on before, I just want it put together nicely, I want them to have time to think, to have no interviewers, no constant questions about how gay they are for each other. I just want them to sit in a room, sip some wine and baklava, and talk their hearts out.

p.s this ain't a ship post, I just like them as people and they mention the positive influence they had on each other a lot, I want a deep dive on that. I know not a lot of y'all can relate to having idols with likeable personalities, not me tho, yall stay safe.

#not linking anything bc im lazy #i love #mileapo #mile phakphum #apo nattawin #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche #thai bl #bl couple

[ladypeonies]

Acceptance.

It seems we are now in the last stage of grief for the friends of the former BOC’s actor, acceptance. Therefore Bible, Mile, Apo, Pond, etc. unfollowed him on Instagram. His chats with his ex-girlfriend were leaked, she is the one who did it, indirectly or directly. The chats are bad, very, very bad.

First, this is a violation of his privacy and it is wrong but she is also ceding her privacy and exposing herself as well. She clearly decided to burn the house down with both of them in it. Why did she do it? They had a settlement, both accepting wrongdoings. In my opinion, she saw how much his former colleagues were still supporting him at various degrees, of course, and basically said, really? You shouldn’t, here is why. He said during the settlement that he was afraid of her, to break up with her. But those chats show a man who was the one in control of that relationship. And unlike him, she has NOTHING to lose. KP gave her money, is still doing so, and would for the near future. They were clearly in a toxic relationship. But reading the chats, the settlement and seeing the videos of them together, she went above and beyond for him, she gave him everything he asked for. She did things for him that she regrets now. She made professional decisions to benefit HIM. Let’s be perfectly transparent, she sabotaged Mile and Apo for him. We all witnessed the mess last year. She knew what she was doing though to keep him she was willing to ruin other and accept the unacceptable, I don’t pity her.

Yes, we all say stupid things that sometimes we don’t even believe in. We rant about a colleague, etc. But this is worse, these are not about an actor ranting about a bad day or frustrated about a colleague not doing his job properly. Those chats show an insecure, jealous, petty, greedy and mean-spirited man talking badly about people he professes to appreciate and even love. The worst part is that many of the racists and homophobic remarks he made in the chats were AFTER his first scandal with the homophobic, racists, misogynistic remarks when he was 20. He hadn’t learned his lessons. He blamed his friends but never took responsibility. He wasn’t even cautious. He’s in the entertainment industry and he KNOWS they all know that hacking, leaking can occur. He had just experienced it. If one has bad things to say, they usually call.

Some of those chats were exposed since June and he didn’t say anything. When the one where he talks badly about Pond were leaked then he immediately apologised. He said the CEO of his company is gay and mocked and ridiculed him for that. Meanwhile on social media he was being grateful and saying he loved him. Who the hell is going to trust him in that industry? What the heck was he thinking? Pond helped, supported him every step of the way. How the heck do I know that? Because he allowed his staff to help with his comeback concert.

He was jealous of Apo, which was obvious and my goodness he’s mean to him. But being ugly when you’re jealous is pathetic but it’s human, I get that. It sucks for Apo because he has been so nice and friendly to him, but Apo will get over it. He badmouthed most of his former colleagues. But the one I feel the most for is Bible who gave him a ring and told him he cared for him and the former BOC actor ridiculed him for it, and in a post suggested that by sharing a hotel room with him Bible could rape him.

I feel for his former colleagues who thought they knew him, they didn’t. And it must hurt. Above all when everything is exposed so publicly.

What I find disturbing is that I’m sure people, his lawyer, anyone around him asked him if there was anything he had said to her that she could use against him. And he lied, otherwise they would have known what was coming and be prepared.

His followers are claiming that people all do that when talking to their best friend, etc. They’re calling him brave for apologising and acknowledging his mistakes. Apologising about one’s wrongdoings is human decency not bravery. Being brave is waking up every single morning and CHOOSING to be a good person despite other people’s trickery and bad behaviour. It’s choosing EMPATHY when dealing with others.

Yes, Poi was wrong and shouldn’t have posted them. But he gave her ammunition to hurt him, those words were his.

Is it the end of it? I don’t really think so, this is a cursed-gift which keeps on giving everyone nightmares. Is Poi done being vengeful? She knows what she is posting and how. She could have buried him deeper, but she didn’t. Does she intend to?

It would be easy to just call her crazy, insane, etc. She wants something from him. And if he wants to put all that behind him, he should give in. What other choice does he have? There is no fair fight with someone who has nothing to lose. Moreover, he has alienated the few people who could have perhaps been good mediators between the two.  

BOC and their actors aren’t out of the woods yet. If Poi goes nuclear, she could reveal things which paint them in a bad light.

But it has nothing to do with MileApo and Boc anymore, he's not in the company anymore, he resigned.

*rolling my eyes* Every time these two will fight or should I say she would leak something, BOC name, their actors will pop up. They're linked to them for the time being. And with Mansuang coming and them playing in the big league now, they don't need this mess.

#mileapo #apo nattawin #mile phakphum #BOC

[annamillersthings]

A normal person will wait for only 4 days for kinnporsche new episode while I will wait for 7 days because the rush hour this week is insane and i will work both day and night shifts 🗿 . Why do they end every preview on a cliffhanger like excuse me i have a life but here I wait for new eps and now i am even more excited kinnporsche honeymoon phase is officially starting .

Communication is overrated a bj or hj are the staple of a healthy relationship now 💀

#that was a journey 😮‍💨 #just to complete one episode #shoutout to my work colleagues who are surprisingly kp stans to help me finish the ep #sorry for the lady we almost traumatized because we forgot to turn down the volume 🗿 #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche #mile apo #biblebuild #jeff barcode #vegas pete #kimchay #mile phakphum #apo nattawin #bible wichapas #build jakapan #jeff satur #barcode tinnasit

[ladymcres]

i’ve already ranted about the ridiculous amount of hate build gets on twitter, but please, let me say again how childish and hypocritical things are getting. Let’s start from the beginning.

Weirdly enough, the vp photobook behind the scenes and a certain amount of vp content start to come out the moment rumor has it bible and build will get a new show for just the two of them (content that had been around since may apparently). Back then I thought they were starting to hint about a kp s2 focusing on vp, because that would have been smart. Clearly, I was wrong.

The announcement event starts, bible and build are revealed to be working with sammon on something very sammon-like. Sammon, for those who don’t know, is a prolific writer, and had some of her books turned into tv shows (Manner of Death and Triage, just to mention the most popular). She definitely does not need to plagiarize anyone.

One of the kp writer starts to go on a rampage on twitter, claiming she was betrayed by someone in boc and and unfollows build on twitter.

Reminder: a show has just been announced, but build is weirdly silent.

Couple of days pass, and guess what? The aforementioned writer withdraws from daemi house, stating she didn’t want her bad actions to reflect on her colleagues or something along those lines.

Today, Build decides to speak up about the issue and clarify everything and to apologize if unintentionally he hurt anyone. He stated that he never shared anything about 4 minutes, that he never stole ideas from the kp writers and that his relationship with them was over. Also, he apologized to the fans for all the mess that was going on even though really, he shouldn’t have. He literally did nothing wrong in this case. I also kind of appreciated the fact that he didn’t involve Bible (it could have been the easiest way) and that he mentioned it was a personal issue. He ends up breaking down because obviously getting continuous hate for something you said years ago will break anyone at a certain point, and when that hate gets revamped by people who you were kind of friends and colleague with, it just hit harder i suppose.

One would think that after all the shit the kp writers did to all the members of the cast, this time people would show reason and side with build, right? I thought something we all agreed on was that writers are trash m. Well, no, because some mile and apo stans decide it’s time to side with the writers because apparently poi talked about sa in her allegations (not directed to build, from what i gathered on twitter, but of course that wouldn’t matter if you’re keen on hating someone). Adding this later because i just got more info. Poi posted on her ig pictures of blood and injuries, hinting at the fact that she had been attacked. Guess what? The pictures had been downloaded from pinterest and she had to admit she was fine and nothing had happened. Again: disgusting behavior.

Now, my opinion on this matter is: the kp writers didn’t like to be sidelined by boc and first, they tried to bring the attention over them with the photobook, and then, poi decided to go for the jugular with her accusations. Attacking build is the easiest way to gain clout these days, everyone and their grandmas know that. If she’d tried something like that with mile, apo, jeff, barcode or bible, the whole kp fandom would have eaten her alive, but build? Build is an easy target, considering what happened in the past. Also, if she had actual evidence of what she claims, she would have brought them out and Build wouldn’t have had the guts to hold a public speech. We’ve been saying for months that poi and yok are dangerous, that the actors were uncomfortable when they were around and when one them actually speaks up about what’s going on (and clearly it’s not easy for him, because from what i gathered he was close to her), people need to go and be dickheads. The kp writers have been acting like they own the kp cast from the beginning, so it really doesn’t surprise me that exactly when the two actors who would have brought them the most money (let’s be real here, the moment vp raised, nobody really cared about the kp dynamic anymore) go and announce they’re working with a popular writer for their upcoming show, the female writer decide to feel betrayed and plagiarized? I find that suspicious, not going to lie. Also, there is the fact that build literally had a full break down, he was devastated. Who would like to be dragged through the mud the moment an important project of yours is announced? And to those saying he was faking it, i suppose you can believe what you want, but obviously it wasn’t something planned, it was clear not even bible was aware he was going to speak up.

At this point, i’ll cherish pete, vegad and kp s1 with all my heart but i really wish neither build or any of the cast will ever have anything to do with the writers anymore.

Edit: this post was written before poi came out with her screenshots. I legit don’t know what to think anymore, but one thing i can tell you for sure: until this whole mess well be cleared, i will not show any kind of support for neither of them

Edit 2: i will riot if build doesn’t get the justice he deserves

#rant #build jakapan #sorry i had to get it out of my chest #putting this under cut because of reasons #tw abuse #tw sex assault

[discluded]

Where did paper Mile come from?

Originally, Apo did nothing to hide his dejected mood at the KPWT send off. He was doing his everything to celebrate the art he made with his colleagues as well as making sure to make Mile feel included.

Check out this awesome writeup by @mellowroxy about Apo making sure Mile was included if you haven't seen it yet.

But then suddenly even Apo's mood lifted with the appearance of life-sized paper standee Mile! The above video is the first time Apo sees paper Mile. You can see his little wai greeting at it because Apo is just the cutest.

Where did paper Mile come from? How did he get to the event?

Paper Mile was originally a gift to Mile from Chinese fans sent in July.

Before people get silly out about how fans sent him a paper standee of himself, it looks like they attached handwritten notes supporting Mile that made up the shape of wings. No wonder Mile kept it!

But paper Mile's heroism wasn't done yet. He had to save the KPWT send off for the most important person: Apo

The Mile Phakphum fanclub administrator confirmed with a fan who had helped send the standee that Mile had asked a friend to bring it to the event.

It looks like Apo was on the phone quite a bit before paper Mile arrived. Maybe it was a mid-event decision Mile had thought of...? Certainly would explain why paper Mile only showed up halfway into the event. But fear not, because from then forth Apo's frown was turned upside down.

MileApo at the KPWT send off

From then forward, Apo would not let paper Mile go. No one else was allowed to touch paper Mile either.

Apo blew paper Mile a kiss while carrying him on his back. He also kissed and cuddled it constantly. In front of everyone's fan cams lol.

Here's three different videos of Apo doing that little turn thing he did with Mile at the KisFarger press conference that Jeff (RIGHTFULLY) clowned him for.

Not the way he managed to invent chemistry with paper Mile. Truly impressive. (Though I'm definitely Jeff here lmfao).

Two more I don't know how to classify: constantly carrying the cardboard cutout with him and also serving meow fanservice at the same time.

Apo made sure paper Mile was in the center of the second group photo they took with fans :)

Where does paper Mile go from here?

He's probably at Apo's place now lol. I guess we'll have to see! I'm sure someone will ask them about it at a future fan meet Q&A

#mileapo #mile phakphum #apo nattawin #boyfriend behavior #paper mile #archivism #i just got read for how bad mdzs archivism was so #felt even more the need to document this #kinnporsche #kpwt #kpwt send off