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lu-sn · 23 hours

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#letting loose all of my dumb ideas #kinnporsche #kpanniversary2024 #pete saengtham

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lu-sn · 2 days

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Arm has a top-secret file that he keeps on a separate partition of his hard drive, locked behind three different password walls. It’s a list of all of the main family’s bodyguards, ranked by how likely they are to be the mole.

(It’s top-secret because he’s not supposed to be looking into this. Chan explicitly ordered him not to.)

There’s a handful of people Arm doesn’t even bother putting on the list. Pol, for one. Pete. Erika. Chan.

By contrast, every single one of Kinn’s personal bodyguards, past and present, is a prime suspect. Kinn’s had a notorious streak of bad luck lately. Four murder attempts in four months cannot be a coincidence.

Ken is just aloof enough that nobody seems to know what he’s up to on his off-days. This rockets him straight to the top of Arm’s list, tied with Big, who has fallen so far out of favor with Kinn that Arm can’t help but wonder if Kinn is doing it on purpose.

And then there’s the name directly under those two.

“Be honest,” he says to Pete one day. They’re sequestered in his armory, but he keeps his voice low: there’s no harm in being careful with matters like this. “Do you think there’s any chance Porsche is the mole?”

Pete is silent for a good, long moment.

“You live with him,” Arm says. “You’ve been on more missions with him than me. If anyone here knows him best, it’s you.”

“There are reasons to suspect him,” Pete says slowly. “A lot of his missions have gone wrong. He didn’t stop that girl from attacking Kinn in the bathroom. The casino stakeout was a mess. The diamond auction was worse.”

“But…?”

Pete sighs. “I don’t know. He’s young. He’s made a lot of mistakes, but he’s improving.”

Arm stares forlornly at his list, cursor blinking innocently next to Porsche’s name. “Pete, I can’t clear his name just because he’s young.”

“No,” Pete concedes. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head. “But he’s kind, too. He’s principled. He won’t betray people he cares about.”

“And that’s enough? You trust him?”

“I do.”

The knot in Arm’s chest jerks tighter. “But… he’s so likable.”

“Ohhh, right, he’s nice. Never mind. Death by firing squad.”

Arm smiles, sheepish.

“Okay,” Pete says. “So you think he’s tricking us?”

“Shit, Pete, I don’t know,” Arm splutters. “Isn't it possible?”

“I don't think so. Porsche isn't like that.”

Arm considers this, then plops his face into his hand.

“Did you want me to say something else?” Pete says, faintly amused.

“Yes,” Arm groans.

“Why?”

“Because…” Arm trails off.

Because the security of the main family rests on his shoulders. Arm cannot afford to be anything other than objective; he needs to leave Porsche on his list.

But the problem is that Porsche barreled into their lives and immediately made Khun Noo happier than Arm had ever seen before. The problem is that Pol hasn’t been this comfortable around someone since Arm himself. The problem is that Arm vaguely remembers being carried home from Hum Bar by an equally drunk Porsche, who took off his shoes for him and tucked him into bed and grinned brightly over his shoulder before staggering out the door.

The problem is that Arm is biased.

Pete, on the other hand, is the most level-headed person Arm knows. Leaving Porsche’s name on his list wouldn’t feel so terrible if Pete agreed with it.

“I wanted you to give me a reason to keep him on here,” Arm mumbles. “I feel bad. He’s our friend.”

“You’re doing your job,” Pete says sincerely. “There’s no shame in that. But…” He reaches over to pat Arm on the shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with trusting your gut. If you think he’s innocent, leave him off.”

Arm mulls over this. Then he pokes Pete in the side. “I think I trust your gut more than mine.”

Pete lets out a laugh, incredulous, and pokes Arm back.

-

Later, Arm highlights Porsche’s entry with his cursor and drags it to the bottom of the file. Then he pauses. His hand hovers over the delete button.

He thinks about Pete saying, I trust him. He thinks about what Pete didn’t quite say: you should trust yourself, too.

He hits delete.

-

#kpanniversary2024 episode 9 + prompt 9: trust

#this one's for all the armpete girlies out there #(looking straight at dreamy)#brought to you by me thinking about how arm and pete show unconditional trust for porsche #and how curious that is given the state of the main family at that time #kinnporsche #kpanniversary2024 #arm kinnporsche #pete saengtham #mine: ficlet

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lu-sn · 2 days

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vegaspete + same scene, different font. (happy 1 year of pete’s capture!)

#vegas was so unhinged for this #it's the way he's holding pete's head trapped #nowhere for him to go 😌#kinnporsche #vegaspete

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lu-sn · 2 days

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If I die today, could you be the one to kill me?

#a caress for a punch #equivalent exchange #kinnporsche #vegaspete

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lu-sn · 2 days

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Despite the rather, er... interesting shenanigans with food in KP, the true showcase is Pete and food as a theme throughout the series. For Pete, food is a mark of comfort, connection, and love. He is completely devoted to his job and following the rules.

In fact, the only bodyguard rule we see Pete break involves food and, specifically, food his grandmother sends him. He connects to Porsche by sharing it with him, before even sharing his name, marking the beginning of their friendship.

Pete doesn’t complain about the bodyguard food, because while it’s not appetizing, it is healthy, which is important to help him stay in shape for his job. Eating that healthy food is a mark of his connection to and love of his job, his purpose.

When Vegas is holding him prisoner, at first he refuses to eat(i.e. connect to Vegas) He gets beaten for it, but that still doesn’t make him concede. He’s imprisoned and starving and still, food means so much to him that he won’t give in. Literally, this guy shrugged off torture, but an unappetizing meal? That’s a bridge too far. Metaphorically, this is him rejecting what Vegas is offering him right now(being treated like a pet, eating off the floor).

Even after Vegas bandages him up and gives him medicine, he rejects the food. (You treated my wounds but I’m still leary. Is this really a change? Because it still looks like the old crap)

It’s not until Vegas makes the noodles for Pete, hot, fresh served to him in bed, that they really make the first connection.

Food is not only the way that Vegas and Pete really connect for the first time. It’s the way that Vegas sees Pete for the first time.

Once he understands how important food is to Pete, not just sustenance but more, he happily goes out of his way to offer Pete that. That’s why it’s particularly egregious that Gun knocks the food onto the floor. He’s not only disrespecting and dismissing Vegas’ efforts, he’s literally dirtying and destroying the connection between Vegas and Pete.

Pete and Vegas separately try to recreate the comfort of the connection between them with food, but they can’t.

By the pool, Pete deliberately uses that connection to try and pull Vegas off the ledge and back to him.

When Pete says “I’m hungry,” he means, I need connection, I need comfort, I need love.

And when Vegas asks if someone else can give him that, his response says no. No. Only Vegas can give him that.

And finally, the epilogue begins with Pete coming back to the hospital with food for Macau, building new connections of comfort and love.

The show does such a beautiful job of character-building for these characters. They never feel like an afterthought in the KinnxPorsche show.

#standing ovation for excellent meta #the FOOD #HE'S HUNGRY #kinnporsche #vegaspete

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lu-sn · 2 days

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dreamy drabbles

KINNPORSCHE TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY EVENT

— prompt: trust

Big can feel Kinn's eyes burrowing into his back from across the room.

"Porsche, this isn't– I mean what about Kinn, what about–"

Porsche's fingers graze the skin above his waistband. He gasps quietly.

"I told you it's fine." Porsche murmurs, leaning closer. "Do you trust me?"

Big doesn't answer, but doesn't back away either, only letting out a shaky exhale.

What a curious thing to want so much.

"Trust me. Please?" Torturously slowly and carefully, Porsche leans in to kiss him.

And despite his instincts telling him that this is wrong, he can't have this, he pulls him closer.

#porsche seducing big can be so important #it has to be porsche really #kinnporsche #big kinnporsche #porsche kittisawasd #drabble

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lu-sn · 2 days

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bible wichapas sumettikul as vegas theerapanyakul

kinnporsche: the series (2022) - episode 9

#WITCHY SHIRT BELOVED #he looks so pious and sad and 🥺#i will literally never get over the way he looks at pete in that last one like..... and why did you not fuck him #kinnporsche #vegas theerapanyakul

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lu-sn · 2 days

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dreamy drabbles

KINNPORSCHE TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY EVENT

— prompt: haunting

"What about you, Chay? What about your first love?"

"Yeah, you haven't said anything so far."

Porchay looks back and forth between his friends. He's not quite sure what to say.

There are no words to describe the throbbing wound in his chest where the memory of fluttering infatuation should be.

It's nothing but an ugly, bleeding gash.

Beneath his ribs, memories rot.

The space that should be occupied by practiced ease and the knowledge what it's like to be loved stands run-down and abandoned; wails echoing through the hollow interior.

So, Porchay just shrugs. "It wasn't really that special."

#DREAMY HOWWW NOOOOOOOOOOOO #but like! yeah! this huge part of chay's life that he can't even begin to talk about!!!!#the space [...] stands run-down and abandoned #< insane line this one #kinnporsche #chay kittisawasd #drabble

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lu-sn · 2 days

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"No pools."

kpanniversary2024 - prompt: haunting

(post-canon, post-hospital)

When the smell hit his nose, it stopped Pete in his tracks. It was enough to tear him away from the present and take him back to the dark and painful memory that hid in the shadows of his very being—lurking there, waiting.

Haunting him.

He was only there for a favour. It wasn’t like he needed the money; for once in his life, he had more of the stuff than he knew what to do with. But he wanted to get out of the house, to feel like he had more of a purpose, to feel like he still had a friend. Porsche needed help. That much was clear to anyone within six feet of him and his attempts at being the new head of the minor family. And Pete, being Pete, couldn’t help but hold onto the hand that reached out for him.

They weren’t even in the minor family compound. Pete didn’t make a habit of returning there very often, and Vegas and Macau even less. For obvious reasons, it wasn’t somewhere that any of them wanted to spend their time.

But Pete hadn’t smelt that smell since it happened. And when it hit him as he walked past the outdoor pool in the gentle warmth of the late afternoon sun, his body went cold with immediate dread.

One whiff of chlorine and he was back to that night, the pain shooting through his knees as he dropped to the floor, the sight of Vegas’s skin losing its colour as the life drained from his body—the sound of his own screams as he mourned what was in front of him.

It was…visceral. The image of the scene of his worst living nightmare playing before him like he had a front seat at the theatre. And it wouldn’t stop. Why was there a ringing in his ears? Just playing over and over and over and over–

Pete.

and over and over and over and over–

“Pete!”

The ringing stopped, and he was wrenched out of the past and back into the present.

“Huh?” He asked dumbly, emotionally distraught and hoping desperately no one had noticed.

“You okay, man?” Porsche looked concerned as he pulled down his sunglasses and perched them on the end of his nose so he could peer down at him.

He blinked. “I’m fine,” he plastered on a smile, breathing in and out slowly in a bid to stave off the ever-building panic.

Porsche frowned, though he slowly pushed his glasses back up his nose, maintaining his immaculate play-pretend persona. “All right, man, if you say so. Anyway, so if I send over those files–”

Most things after that fly straight over his head. His body goes on autopilot, almost as if he blacks out. It's not until he somehow drives back home and sits in the driveway of his new house, tucked deep into a fancy gated neighbourhood, that he comes back to his senses. His hands shake as he takes the keys out of the ignition, stiffly getting out of the car and making his way into the house.

It’s quiet when he walks inside, yet his mind is anything but. The sudden need to find Vegas, to see him with his own eyes just to prove he’s still alive, takes over him. He barely remembers to take off his shoes before he rushes further inside, searching through every room until he finds who he’s looking for.

By the time he finds Vegas, who is tucked into the corner of the couch in the spare room, his heart is palpitating out of his chest. The window was perfectly positioned to let in the afternoon sun, so he could frequently be found napping there. Fatigue plagued him in his recovery, and it was not uncommon to come across him asleep. But today, the sight of him passed out does not make him smile. It makes Pete want to scream and howl and wish he would never close his eyes again (for as long as he lives).

He hardly makes a sound as he tiptoes across the room, but he manages to disturb Vegas anyway, his eyes squinting open before Pete has a chance to sit down. “You’re back,” he croaks, eyes brightening as his gaze lands on him. “how’d it go?” He yawns as Pete sits down next to him.

The answer to the question escapes him; in fact, most thoughts escape him. The black cloud of the past still looms over his brain, flooding his memories.

“Pete?” A hand on his knee makes him jump slightly, “what’s wrong?”

“Let’s not get a pool,” he manages, forcing down the need to scream.

“What?” Vegas laughs incredulously, pulling Pete’s arm so he sinks into his side.

“I don’t want to get a pool; let’s not build one,” he repeats, closing his eyes in relief when he can hear the beat of Vegas’s heart underneath his ear.

“Okay. Whatever you want,” Vegas speaks quietly, confused, almost as if trying not to scare away a spooked animal.

A kiss is pressed to his forehead, and the need to scream dissipates.

“No pools.”

#oh! oh!!!!#oh this is delicious #it's the little things that linger huh #add that to how prominently the pool features during bodyguard training #and it makes for a nice little cloud of trauma #op i really love how you wrote pete disassociating #kinnporsche #pete saengtham #vegaspete #ficlet

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lu-sn · 2 days

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