Reviews

The BEST

Khemjira is easily one of the best Thai BL dramas I have ever watched. Unlike many BL series that heavily focus on romance, this drama perfectly balances its supernatural mystery, Thai folklore, and emotional storytelling. The romance is subtle, but the chemistry between the lead actors is absolutely incredible. Every interaction feels natural and heartfelt, making it impossible not to root for them.

What makes Khemjira truly special is the nostalgic feeling it leaves behind. It's the kind of series you'll want to watch over and over again because you'll genuinely miss the characters and the world they created. The emotional impact stays with you long after each episode ends.

The soundtrack deserves special praise as well. Every OST beautifully complements the story, and the opening sequence is simply amazing. For the first time, I found myself never skipping the intro because it perfectly sets the atmosphere and is worth watching every single episode.

Beyond the romance and mystery, the series beautifully showcases Thai culture, traditions, and spiritual beliefs in a way that feels authentic and respectful. It adds so much depth to the story and makes the viewing experience even more memorable.

Overall, Khemjira is a masterpiece that excels in storytelling, acting, music, and cultural representation. It is probably one of the best Thai dramas ever made and, without a doubt, deserves to be considered the Drama of the Year.

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An entire campus apparently deciding that everyone should be in love immediately.

How do you review We Are when your main memories are architecture students, group dinners, and an alarming number of people accidentally finding soulmates at the exact same university?

This series really looked at university BLs and said, "What if we gave you four couples, one giant friend group, and enough wholesome chaos to sustain an entire fandom?"

First came Phum and Peem.

Or as I like to call them:

Human flirting machine × man pretending he wasn't enjoying any of it.

Pond and Phuwin once again proved that chemistry is apparently one of Thailand's renewable resources.

Phum flirted like it was his full-time job.

Peem resisted like it was his full-time job.

Neither of them were particularly successful.

Then came Tan and Fang.

The definition of "we've been in love with each other for so long that everyone else already knows."

Aou and Boom delivered quiet affection, mature communication, and enough domestic energy to make viewers start planning weddings.

Then there were Chain and Pun.

The soft one and the softer one.

The kind of couple that makes you smile every time they appear on screen without fully understanding why.

And of course, Q and Toey.

Because apparently this friend group was operating under a strict "nobody gets left behind and everybody gets a boyfriend" policy.

Honestly?

Respect.

By the end of the series, it genuinely felt less like watching multiple romances and more like spending time with one enormous found family.

The dinners.

The trips.

The teasing.

The group chats that probably violated several noise regulations.

The friendships mattered just as much as the romances.

And that's exactly why the series worked.

Because We Are understood something important:

Love stories don't happen in isolation.

They happen around friends.

Around shared meals.

Around people who become part of your life simply because they refuse to leave.

And can we talk about the people behind the camera?

Director New Siwaj Sawatmaneekul understood exactly what this story needed: comfort.

The series never rushed.

It never forced drama where it didn't belong.

Instead, it trusted the characters and their relationships enough to let viewers simply enjoy spending time with them.

The production team created a university world that felt vibrant, warm, and lived in.

The classrooms.

The studios.

The cafés.

The late-night hangouts.

Everything felt like somewhere you wanted to be.

The cinematography kept things bright and cozy, while the soundtrack somehow managed to make every confession and every lingering glance hit twice as hard.

We Are wasn't trying to reinvent university BLs.

It didn't need to.

This wasn't mafia politics.

This wasn't emotional devastation.

This wasn't overthrowing corrupt systems.

This was comfort television.

Premium-grade comfort television.

This was four couples, one giant friend group, and enough love to make the entire campus feel like home.

10/10.

Would absolutely join the friend group, attend every dinner, and become emotionally attached to every single one of these idiots all over again.

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One man discovering that his biggest competition was actually himself.

How do you review Fish Upon the Sky when your main memories are awkward makeovers, relentless teasing, and Pi looking like stress had personally selected him as its brand ambassador?

This series really looked at the university romance genre and said, "What if we added insecurity, comedy, sibling interference, and enough secondhand embarrassment to physically leave your body?"

Pi had a crush.

A very serious crush.

The kind of crush that convinces you a complete personality overhaul is a reasonable life decision.

Unfortunately for him, Mork existed.

Confident.

Charming.

Annoyingly attractive.

And apparently operating on a full-time schedule of making Pi's life significantly more complicated.

Naturally, chaos followed.

Phuwin brought so much vulnerability, awkwardness, and relatable insecurity to Pi that it was impossible not to root for him.

Because beneath all the panic and overthinking was someone simply trying to believe that he was enough.

And honestly?

Haven't we all been there?

And Pond as Mork?

The king of teasing.

The emperor of patience.

The CEO of looking at someone like they've already won a competition they didn't even know they were in.

Watching Mork slowly prove to Pi that he was never interested in the version of Pi trying to impress the world and had always liked the version hiding underneath it all gave us one of the sweetest messages in Thai BL.

Then there was Duean.

The human embodiment of chaos.

The younger brother who somehow managed to create problems and solve them at the exact same time.

His relationship with Meen delivered some of the funniest moments in the entire series and honestly deserved its own support group.

The friend groups, the university setting, and the endless misunderstandings gave the series an energy that felt lively, messy, and incredibly fun.

And can we talk about the people behind the camera?

Director New Siwaj Sawatmaneekul understood exactly what this story needed: fun.

The series never took itself too seriously.

The comedy landed, the emotional moments hit when they needed to, and the story never forgot that sometimes romance is supposed to make you laugh as much as it makes you cry.

The production team embraced bright colors, energetic pacing, and exaggerated comedy while still allowing the characters space to grow.

The cinematography reflected the youthful, chaotic energy of university life perfectly.

And the soundtrack?

Pure serotonin.

Every song somehow made an already ridiculous situation feel even more adorable.

Fish Upon the Sky wasn't trying to reinvent the genre.

It wasn't trying to emotionally devastate you.

It wasn't trying to overthrow governments or run mafia empires.

This was chaos.

Premium-grade chaos.

This was insecure dental student × man who apparently decided flirting should qualify as an Olympic event.

10/10.

Would absolutely survive dental school, become emotionally attached to the friend group, and watch Mork flirt aggressively while Pi malfunctioned all over again.

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Convincing chemistry saving sluggishly paced story

I quite enjoyed this BL featuring the romance between grumpy music student Qin and sunshine art student Duang. The cat and dog energy was in full force with them, making their dynamics fun and sweet to follow.

I really liked the way that TeeTee played Duang...It might have felt like A LOT in the first quarter of the series but as I get used to it, I became quite endeared by the character...which I must admit is probably a mirror of how Qin, the tsundere cold student felt, facing the over the top puppy energy of his suitor. The romance beginning could have felt stalkerish for some but I was charmed by the sweetness of it all, as well as the unexpected layers of the two main characters.

Was it without flaws? Certainly not. The pacing was properly sluggish, with a lot of screen time devoted to competitions and school aspects that did not really matter in the grand scheme of the story. Half the series felt like fillers but still, as I got more and more endeared by their relationship, I followed quite happily the less inspired moments of the story.

Another big flaw of the story is coming from the secondary couple played by Otto and North. I had a good prior feeling about the cast, having watched all the seasons of DMD Friendship, but unfortunately Otto and North definitely needed more time to be able to carry their storyline, which was clumsily written and felt very awkward with the recurring English talking...Maybe sticking to just speaking Thai would have already helped them? Having said that, I quite enjoyed the other relationships with the friend group being really cute to watch when bantering with Duang.

The production value was very good. DoMunDi production is proving once again that they can really develop a vibe specific to a show while maintaining great filming quality. It just feel done with care and budget. The soundtrack was not outstanding though, except the credits song, nothing really memorable to me, which is a bit of a shame given the central place of music in the story.

I would recommend this to people that are looking for a sweet student BL with a sunshine x grumpy romance. The story could definitely be better paced and not every arcs is worth that much screen time...But the romance evolution, the unexpected deeper moments really save the series and make it worth a try.

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I will be buried with this.

There is SO much to say. I live everything. No other bl could ever beat kinnporsche in my eyes. every SINGLE day, I think about it and Vegaspete. vegaspete's storyline was so raw and beautiful i sometimes go back to watch just their scenes in the safehouse. I will FOREVER love this show until the day I die. this was maybe my second or just one of my first Bl's and I couldn't have been more happy that this was the one that changed my life. it literally did. change my whole life. I member I was maybe 12 or 13 and looking up where to watch love in the air and kinnposche. if I never saw some edits on tiktok, I dont know where or what I would be doing with my life now. I LOVE YOU😭😭😭

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This feels like a love story written for tired people.

How do you review Love After Addiction when your main memories are sleepless nights, rescue missions, and You Xi looking at Yang Meng like he had personally invented REM sleep?

This series really looked at the romance genre and said, "What if we added insomnia, career collapse, emotional dependency, unresolved history, and enough yearning to keep an entire city awake?"

You Xi had fame.

Success.

Recognition.

And absolutely none of the peace that was supposed to come with any of it.

Scandals happened.

Burnout happened.

Sleep stopped happening altogether.

Then came Yang Meng.

Former classmate.

Rescue captain.

Human sleeping pill.

Apparently.

Because somehow, against all known medical science, You Xi discovers that the only place he can sleep peacefully is next to him.

Honestly?

Cinema.

Lin Feng Song brought so much exhaustion, vulnerability, and quiet desperation to You Xi that watching him slowly unravel and rebuild himself felt painfully real.

And Chen Wen as Yang Meng?

The king of patience.

The emperor of emotional stability.

The CEO of accidentally becoming someone's safe place.

Watching Yang Meng slowly realize that You Xi needed far more than sleep while You Xi slowly learned the difference between dependence and love gave us one of the most emotionally mature relationships of the year.

Because this wasn't simply a romance.

It was a story about trust.

About loneliness.

About what happens when someone becomes the first place you've ever felt safe enough to rest.

And honestly?

That might be more intimate than love itself.

The supporting cast understood the assignment too.

The friends.

The colleagues.

The people trying to hold these two together while they stubbornly pretended they were handling everything perfectly fine.

Spoiler:

They were not.

And can we talk about the people behind the camera?

Writer and director Nattachai Jiraanont understood exactly what this story needed: quiet.

The emotional moments weren't rushed.

The silences mattered.

The sleepless nights mattered.

The spaces between conversations often said more than the dialogue itself.

The cinematography deserves special praise.

The city lights at 3 AM.

The empty apartments.

The exhaustion written across faces illuminated by street lamps.

The contrast between sleeplessness and peace.

Every frame felt intimate.

Almost intrusive.

Like we were witnessing moments nobody else was supposed to see.

And the soundtrack?

Absolutely guilty of aiding and abetting emotional devastation.

Every song arrived precisely when viewers had almost convinced themselves they were emotionally stable again.

Almost.

Love After Addiction wasn't simply a BL.

It wasn't simply a second-chance romance.

It was a story about finding rest in another person after forgetting what rest even felt like.

This wasn't celebrity × rescue captain.

This wasn't ex-classmates-to-lovers.

This was insomniac actor × man who accidentally became home.

8/10.

Would absolutely lose sleep, make terrible emotional decisions, and watch these two idiots discover that sometimes the thing you're addicted to isn't sleep.

It's finally feeling safe enough to close your eyes.

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2 people finding their way back to life through melodies they thought they had lost forever.

How do you review First Note of Love when your main memories are recording studios, unfinished songs, and Neil and Sea looking at each other like they were hearing music nobody else could?

This series really looked at the music romance genre and said, "What if we added grief, creative burnout, healing, and enough emotional damage to keep playlists employed for years?"

Neil used to live for music.

Then life happened.

Loss happened.

Silence happened.

And suddenly the thing that once made him feel alive became the very thing he couldn't bear to face.

Then came Sea.

A fan.

A dreamer.

A walking reminder of everything Neil thought he had lost.

And somehow, also the person who helped him find it again.

Charles Tu brought so much quiet sadness and vulnerability to Neil that watching him slowly reconnect with music — and with himself — felt incredibly moving.

And Michael Chang as Sea?

The king of optimism.

The emperor of emotional support.

The CEO of believing in someone long before they can believe in themselves.

Watching Sea patiently stand beside Neil while he learned how to create, grieve, and love again gave us one of the gentlest romances in recent Taiwanese BL.

Because this wasn't about saving someone.

It was about accompanying them.

There's a difference.

And First Note of Love understood it perfectly.

The supporting characters and music industry setting added so much texture to the world.

The rehearsals.

The recording sessions.

The pressure of expectations.

The fear of never being able to create something meaningful again.

Every part of it felt honest.

And can we talk about the people behind the camera?

Director Lien Chien Hung understood exactly what this story needed: space.

The emotional moments weren't rushed.

The silences were allowed to exist.

The music was allowed to speak when words couldn't.

The production team understood that songs in this story weren't simply background music.

They were memories.

Conversations.

Confessions.

Goodbyes.

The cinematography deserves special praise.

The stage lights.

The empty studios.

The city nights.

The moments where characters sat quietly with their thoughts while music carried the emotions they couldn't yet express.

And the soundtrack?

Honestly, calling it a soundtrack feels disrespectful.

It was another character.

Every song carried emotional weight.

Every lyric mattered.

Every melody told part of the story.

First Note of Love wasn't simply a romance.

It was a story about finding your voice after losing it.

About learning that grief and joy can exist together.

About understanding that moving forward doesn't mean leaving the past behind.

This wasn't celebrity × fan.

This wasn't sunshine × grumpy.

This was broken musician × person who reminded him that music was never truly gone.

10/10.

Would absolutely sit in that recording studio, cry over songs that don't exist outside this universe, and watch these two find their way back to music and to each other all over again.

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Two men discovering that yelling at each other is apparently just an alternative form of flirting.

How do you review Paint with Love when your main memories are unpaid invoices, artistic meltdowns, and Maze and Phap somehow turning workplace conflict into a love language?

This series really looked at the office romance genre and said, "What if we added creative chaos, financial stress, emotional repression, and enough bickering to power the entire company?"

Maze liked order.

Schedules.

Budgets.

Spreadsheets.

The kind of man who probably color-coded his stress.

Then came Phap.

The human embodiment of "we'll figure it out later."

An artist powered entirely by talent, optimism, and a concerning lack of planning.

Naturally, the universe decided these two should spend all of their time together.

What could possibly go wrong?

Singto brought so much quiet frustration and vulnerability to Maze that watching his carefully organized life slowly descend into emotional chaos became one of the best parts of the show.

And Tae Darvid as Phap?

The king of chaos.

The emperor of impulse decisions.

The CEO of solving problems with vibes and determination.

Watching Phap slowly pull Maze out of survival mode while Maze gave Phap the stability and support he had been missing created a relationship that felt surprisingly balanced beneath all the arguments and teasing.

Because beneath the bickering, these two understood each other in ways neither of them expected.

And honestly?

That's where the magic was.

Then there was Nueng and the rest of the team, who somehow managed to turn the office into one giant dysfunctional family.

The friendships, the workplace dynamics, and the shared creative struggles gave the series a warmth that made the world feel lived in.

And can we talk about the people behind the camera?

Director Peemapol Panichtamrong understood exactly what this story needed: personality.

The series embraced the chaos, the humor, and the messiness of creative work without losing sight of the emotional heart underneath it all.

The production team leaned heavily into color, art, and visual storytelling, making the studio itself feel like a character in the story.

The paintings.

The sketches.

The unfinished canvases.

Everything reflected the emotional states of the people creating them.

And the cinematography?

Beautifully playful.

Bright colors and creative framing gave the show an energy that perfectly matched its characters.

The soundtrack?

An accomplice to emotional and romantic crimes.

Paint with Love wasn't trying to be the most dramatic BL of its generation.

It wasn't trying to emotionally devastate you.

This was enemies-to-lovers for people who enjoy watching organized men suffer because of artistic chaos gremlins.

This was businessman × artist.

Spreadsheets × paintbrushes.

Control × creativity.

10/10.

Would absolutely work at that studio, miss every deadline imaginable, and watch Maze slowly realize he was hopelessly in love all over again.

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No Touching At All is a slow sunrise. And sometimes that's even more beautiful.

How do you review No Touching At All when your main memories are awkward silences, lingering glances, and two grown men acting like feelings were a government conspiracy?

This film really looked at office romances and said, "What if we removed all unnecessary noise and replaced it with yearning?"

Shima had already learned how to survive disappointment.

Keep your distance.

Keep things casual.

Don't expect too much from people.

Simple.

Then Togawa walked into his life and immediately made all of that significantly more difficult.

Because unfortunately for Shima, Togawa possessed three dangerous qualities:

Patience.

Kindness.

And the ability to see straight through him.

Naturally, disaster followed.

Yonashiro Sho brought so much quiet vulnerability to Shima that sometimes it felt like watching someone trying to hold themselves together with sheer determination.

And Watanabe Shu as Togawa?

The king of gentle persistence.

The emperor of emotional intelligence.

The CEO of asking, "Are you okay?" and actually waiting for the answer.

Their relationship wasn't built on dramatic confessions or grand romantic gestures.

It was built on small moments.

Shared drinks after work.

Conversations in elevators.

Walking home together.

The kind of moments that don't look important until one day you realize they've become your entire world.

And honestly?

That's exactly what made this story feel so real.

Because love doesn't always arrive loudly.

Sometimes it arrives quietly.

Sometimes it sits beside you after a long day at work.

Sometimes it asks if you've eaten.

Sometimes it waits patiently for you to believe that you're worth staying for.

And can we talk about the people behind the camera?

Director Chihiro Amano understood exactly what this story needed: restraint.

The film trusted silence.

It trusted body language.

It trusted the audience enough to understand what wasn't being said.

The pacing was quiet, deliberate, and deeply intimate.

The office spaces felt ordinary.

The city felt ordinary.

The lives being lived inside them felt ordinary.

And somehow that made everything feel extraordinary.

The cinematography deserves special praise.

The fluorescent office lights.

The rainy streets.

The late-night trains.

Every frame felt grounded in reality.

And the soundtrack?

Minimal.

Subtle.

Perfect.

No Touching At All wasn't trying to reinvent romance.

It wasn't trying to shock you.

It wasn't trying to emotionally destroy you.

It was simply telling the story of two adults learning that vulnerability might be terrifying, but loneliness isn't any easier.

This wasn't enemies-to-lovers.

This wasn't friends-to-lovers.

This was emotionally unavailable office worker × emotionally intelligent man with the patience of a saint.

10/10.

Would absolutely stand awkwardly in that elevator, share convenience store drinks after work, and watch these two slowly learn how to let someone in all over again.

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An interesting drama

LIKE

Han Yan so poor thing my god

I love the cinematography so swift every detail, every look and angle

Chai Jing is so loyal to Han Yan

First time I loved Wen Zheng Rong who plays Ruan Xi Wen's character - she makes me have goosebumps when she tried to save Han Yan

The shock when Xi Wen learns that her life could be changed but was stopped by someone

The poor Chang An and Xi Wen

This scriptwriter is so powerful I really cannot take it

Duan Tian Shi’s reaction when he met Zhuang family at court lol

Fu family is so sweet to Yun Xi

That last scene, if you know you know

DISLIKE

Never seen such a terrible character as Zhuang Shi Yang who always find ways to push his blame to others

MUSIC - personal fav

剪 Jian - 李沫非 Li Mo Fei, 吉拉石林 Ji La Shi Lin
焰 Yan - 李琦 Li Qi
刃 Ren - 尚雯婕 Shang Wen Jie

REWATCH VALUE

Five for now

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Masterpiece

If there's one "crime" Ashes to the Crown commits, it's ending at only 24 episodes, a show this rich in storytelling, character depth, and political chess deserves at least 40.

Chen Duling doesn't just play Chu Zhao, she becomes her. The role demands a staggering range: the cold fury of a woman scorned, the sharp intellect of a political strategist, the vulnerability of someone who has lost everything once before, and the quiet warmth of a woman learning to trust again. Duling delivers on every front.

Whether she's orchestrating a court maneuver with a single raised eyebrow or sharing a wordless moment of understanding with her love interest, Duling's performance is layered and precise. She makes Chu Zhao feel like a real person who has been forged in fire, not a fantasy archetype

The romance between Chu Zhao and Xie Yanlai is one of the healthiest, most balanced relationships I've seen in a C-drama. There's no tiresome "simping" from the male lead, no frustrating "playing hard to get" from the female lead. These are two adults who understand each other, respect each other's intelligence and agency, and develop genuine feelings through shared purpose and mutual trust

Their relationship is built on equality. Chu Zhao doesn't need Xie Yanlai to save her she needs him to stand beside her. And he does, not as a subservient protector, but as a partner who recognizes her strength and complements it with his own. The slow-burn tension, the intellectual sparring, and the moments of quiet intimacy feel earned rather than forced. C-drama romance writers, take notes: this is how you write a power couple.

The court intrigue in Ashes to the Crown is genuinely brilliant. Every alliance is temporary, every betrayal has layers, and no scheme is as simple as it appears. The drama treats its audience with respect, requiring you to pay attention to dialogue nuances and political maneuvering. The weiqi (go) metaphor that runs through the series is apt this is a game of encirclement and patience, not explosive confrontations ​.

Characters like Xie Yanfang (the ambiguous, cunning brother) and the antagonist Xiao Xun add moral complexity that elevates the narrative beyond good vs. evil. Even the "villains" have understandable motivations, making the political battlefield feel lived-in and authentic

Ashes to the Crown is what I call a masterpiece. It's a drama that rewards careful viewing, celebrates female agency without apology, and delivers a romance built on mutual respect rather than toxic tropes. The political scheming is razor-sharp, the performances are top-tier, and the emotional payoff is deeply satisfying.

This is one of those rare dramas that I'll rewatch, not just for the plot twists I missed the first time, but for the sheer pleasure of watching two brilliant leads navigate a brutal world together.

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