luiuni

[luiuni]

tbh i looooove to imagine clingy codependent thangyu once they get together…….. like imagining nam-gyu is grocery shopping and he has thanos on facetime the entire time. sometimes they’re talking, sometimes nam-gyu is showing thanos the shelves and asking what he wants, other times nam-gyu is just walking around with thanos on facetime in his pocket, neither of them speaking but just happy knowing that they’re still “together”.

thanos going to the studio and bringing nam-gyu with him everywhere (most of thanos’ songs are written about nam-gyu anyways so it makes sense for thanos to bring his muse everywhere 😌) and it makes all of his managers be like “who tf is this weird guy that thanks keeps bringing everywhere……..” but god forbid they try to tell thanos he’s not allowed to bring nam-gyu into the studio anymore…… if they do thanos DEFS throws a fit because where he goes nam-gyu goes!!!! and nam-gyu absolutely loves the fact that he’s getting special treatment from thanos…….

thanos is also for sure bringing namgyu along whenever he needs to go away for a while, whether it’s on tour or just to some kind of event, thanos is forcing his company to buy an extra plane ticket and upgrade his hotel room so that nam-gyu can come along too ☝️

and even when they ARE together they are annoyingly clingy, they’ll be walking around their place unable to separate from each others arms,,, thanos is walking around and nam-gyu is hugging him from behind and following him around gripping on like a koala, nam-gyu will be making dinner and thanos is NOT HELPING but he is standing behind nam-gyu with his arms around nam-gyu’s waist and his chin resting on nam-gyu’s shoulder as he watches nam-gyu cook and makes his own little commentary on the entire thing…… when they sit down to eat whether at home or at restaurants they sit side by side instead of across from each other so that they can hold hands……..

UGH i just love thangyu being disgustingly clingy and making it everyone else’s problem…. i hate them 🙏🙏

[luiuni]

(this is thangyus main blog) BUT I JUST WANNA SAY THANK YOU AGAIN FOR ALL THE SUPPORT ON MY FIC AND ALSO FOR CREATING SUCH AMAZING ART IN THE FIRST PLACE AAAAHHHHH YOURE ONE OF MY FAVOURITE THANGYU ARTISTS EVER and i already have an idea for a mini fic based on another one of your artworks >:)) LOVE U SO MUCH MOOT 💖💖💖

YAYAYAYSYAYAY IDK IF YOURE FOLLOWING ME ON INSTA BUT YOU SHOULD SO WE CAN TALK MORE ILY MOOT :333

[luiuni]

YEEEEEAAAAAAASSSSSS!!!! GUYS GO READ IT RIGHT NOW OR ELSE

you'll always be my favourite obsession

With people cramped on either side of him, Su-bong can only look over his shoulder, but even just that is good enough, as when his eyes quickly scan the sea of green behind him, it isn’t long at all before they locate exactly what he's looking for. Dark hair streaked with green, grown down to shoulders and styled in a way that made it seem effortlessly messy. Metal piercing an eyebrow, both ears, and a bottom lip, flashes of cold silver against warm, fair skin. A gaze darkened by black makeup, shadows around the corners of eyes that Su-bong had many a time found himself getting entranced by. A beautiful face pulled into a cold, mean expression as he stares up at the pink guards, desperate to know what happened to his designer shoes. Su-bong had been starting to feel like he was suffocating in that room, with so many other people around him and under the fear of having been taken to an unknown location, but now, just for a moment, he feels like he can breathe again.

[Read on AO3 | 3k words | one-shot]

_______

THANGYU SWAP AU !!!!!!! made a post with this yesterday, but i decided to post the ficlet on ao3 too!!!!! ao3 version has some revisions, edits, and additions (and im generally happier w it lol) if you wanna check it out :)

thank you once again to @luiuni for inspiring this fic with your incredible artwork!!!! happy reading!!

[luiuni]

I love you pinkbae

[luiuni]

HEA YEAS YES YOU CAN POST IT ON AO3 WITH MY ART I WOULD BE OH SO HONORED!

been thinking about @luiuni's thangyu swap au (original artwork posts here and here) for so long that i just had to write a little something based on it. apologies if it is not great,,, this was a a bit of an experiment in figuring out their swapped personalities, i feel like i could never do this incredible art justice but it was super fun to write and i am so so obsessed with this au so i hope you enjoy it regardless 🙏

read the ficlet below the cut! [2.5k words]

First, there was that man that had been lurking in the alleyway outside of Club Pentagon, seemingly waiting for Su-bong to finish his shift– that weird fucker, wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase of money that had asked him to play ddakji, and had slapped Su-bong so hard every time he lost that his cheeks had hurt for the next few days. 

First, there was that man that had been lurking in the alleyway outside of Club Pentagon, seemingly waiting for Su-bong to finish his shift– that weird fucker, wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase of money that had asked him to play ddakji, and had slapped Su-bong so hard every time he lost that his cheeks had hurt for the next few days. 

Then, there was the business card that the man had handed Su-bong before disappearing out of the alley and into the busy city streets, gone before Su-bong had even finished reading what was on the card. On one side, the print of a circle, triangle, and square; on the second side, a phone number that, when Su-bong finally called it a few days later, gave him a time and place to meet. 

Every instinct in Su-bong had told him not to go to the meeting place, and the warning in his gut grew even worse when a creepy-as-hell van pulled up in front of him, and a person in a pink jumpsuit and a black mask sitting in the driver’s seat ordered him into the van… but what other choice did Su-bong have? Go back to his apartment that he was sure to get kicked out of when he couldn’t pay his rent the following week? Go back to his shitty life, ruined by the fucking crypto scam that had drained him of everything he’d worked so hard for the past few years? Go back to his job at the club where he was overworked and underpaid, ignored by the clients he did so much for, where the only perk was the occasional time he could sneak some of the drugs they secretly sold to the highest-paying customer and get high in the staff bathroom?

Maybe it was a stupid idea for Su-bong to get in that van, but what else did he have to lose?

He thought the man in the suit, the mysterious business card, and the shady van had been weird… but Su-bong’s strange and confusing week only continues, and now has some fear thrown into it, when he passes out mere seconds after getting into the van. When he comes to, he can’t tell how long he’d been asleep for– just that his mouth is uncomfortably dry, he has an uncomfortable ache in his neck like he’d been sleeping on it weird, and… and that he’s not wearing his clothes. 

When he’d gotten into that van, Su-bong had yet changed out of his all-black work clothes, since he’d come straight from his shift at Pentagon to the meeting spot; now, he wears plain white shoes and a green tracksuit, the latter of which has a patch with the number 230 stitched onto the fabric, the number resting right above Su-bong’s heart– which is starting to beat faster as his confusion, and slight panic, grows. 

The cheerful music that starts suddenly to play doesn’t help his panic, either– nor does the realization of his surroundings, when Su-bong finally looks up and sees where he is: a large room, filled with tall bunk beds– one of which Su-bong himself lays on– and what looks like hundreds of other people, all wearing identical outfits to him. 

Well, almost identical– it seems like the only difference between each of them, as far as Su-bong can see, are the numbers on each of their tracksuits. Su-bong glances down at his own number, then back up to the rest; there are too many people around him to count, as they all start to get up from their beds and congregate in the middle of the room, and Su-bong can only catch brief glimpses of the numbers around him– 333, 044, 120, 380– just how many people are here? Had they all been invited by that same man? Is this even real, or had Su-bong taken a bit too much of a “free sample” during his last shift, and this was all just some weird trip he hadn’t yet come down from?

It’s been a strange and confusing week for Su-bong, but standing in a crowd of hundreds of other people all dressed in identical outfits, all looking up at a line of men dressed in weird pink costumes and black masks, and being told that they had all been brought here to play a bunch of games for a week to win money definitely takes first place in the strange and confusing department.

What the fuck is going on? Su-bong thinks as the pink-clad man at the front of the room explains their situation. He remembers the man in the suit saying something about games when he’d handed Su-bong the card, but that motherfucker had failed to mention anything about getting drugged in a van and taken away to an unknown location.

Su-bong is so caught up in his own thoughts that he’s not quite paying attention when some of the other people, the ones in the green jumpsuits just like him, start to speak up, voicing their own concerns about the situation and asking questions. He tries to tune them out, trying to focus on not freaking the fuck out– when someone else speaks up, and sends a shock through Su-bong’s system. 

“What’s with these shoes?” whined a frustrated voice from behind Su-bong. “My shoes are limited fucking edition– they’re hard to find! Are you going to replace them if they get damaged?” 

The words ring through Su-bong, echoing in his mind even after the next person speaks up to complain, though it’s not the words exactly that caught Su-bong’s attention; rather, it’s the voice that spoke them– a voice that Su-bong recognizes immediately.

With people cramped on either side of him, hundreds of bodies squished into the middle of the room, Su-bong isn’t able to fully turn around. He can only look over his shoulder, but even just that is good enough, as when his eyes quickly scan the sea of green behind him, it isn’t long at all before they locate exactly what Su-bong is looking for. 

Dark hair streaked with green, grown down to shoulders and styled in a way that made it seem effortlessly messy. Metal piercing an eyebrow, both ears, and a bottom lip (and, though he can’t see it from here, Su-bong knows a similar metal bulb pierces his tongue, too), flashes of cold silver against warm, fair skin. A gaze darkened by black makeup, shadows around the corners of eyes that Su-bong had many a time found himself getting entranced by. A beautiful face pulled into a cold, mean expression as he stares up at the pink guards, desperate to know what happened to his designer shoes. 

Su-bong had been starting to feel like he was suffocating in that room, with so many other people around him and under the fear of having been taken to an unknown location, but now, just for a moment, he feels like he can breathe again. 

_______

Once that weird guy in the pink uniform finishes explaining the rules of this… competition, or whatever it is that they’ve all been brought here to do, he orders all the players who wish to proceed with the games to line up. For some consent form, Su-bong thinks he said, but he had sort of stopped listening to that droning voice once he’d caught sight of him in the crowd. 

Kim Nam-gyu. The Joker. 

Su-bong knows of his music, of course– The Joker had risen to stardom in the past few years, ever since he’d appeared on the Rap Battleground competition; even though he’d fucked up his own song in the final round and landed in second place, he’d still won the prize of fame, and it wasn’t long after the underground rapper made his first appearance on a competition show that he was selling out stadiums.

Su-bong knows of The Joker’s music, but it isn’t his fame that makes Su-bong push against the crowd, moving in the opposite direction while the rest of the green-clad players start lining up to sign their waivers. It isn’t The Joker’s celebrity status that made Su-bong’s heart skip a beat when he’d first spotted him in the crowd, either. It isn’t the fact that he’s The Joker at all that draws Su-bong to him, or what drew Su-bong to him back then either. 

The Joker moves through the crowd in a way that makes it hard for Su-bong to keep track of him– pushing in front of other people, glaring at those who try to tell him to get to the back of the line– and his shorter height doesn’t make it any easier to keep track of him as he moves, but at least his signature dyed hair gives Su-bong something to pick out of the crowd, to keep searching for as he gets closer. As he gets closer, Su-bong feels himself getting more excited– relief that there’s someone else in this place that he knows, relief that he isn’t going to be here alone, but also… a thrill that that someone is The Joker, the same thrill that Su-bong always felt course through him whenever he would see the singer walk through those club doors–

A thrill that quickly dissipates when Su-bong reaches him, when a hand on The Joker’s shoulder causes him to turn around, when he stares up at Su-bong with that cold, mean expression and asks, “What?”

Su-bong swallows his surprise at the reaction, ignores the humiliation from the people around them starting to stare, and smiles down at the other man. “Nam– I mean, Joker,” he says. “What the hell are you doing here, man?” 

The Joker only continues to stare at Su-bong, looking like there’s a bad smell in the air. He shrugs Su-bong’s hand off of his shoulder as he gives Su-bong a once-over, before he asks, “Do I know you?”

Su-bong lets his hand fall back down to his side, and tries not to feel hurt by the sharp, cutting edge to The Joker’s words. That’s just how he is, Su-bong reminds himself. He keeps his smile and steps closer to the singer, joining him in the line despite the people waiting behind them. “Come on, don’t you recognize me?” Su-bong jokes, forcing a light laugh. “It’s me, Su-bong.” When The Joker starts to turn back to look back to the front of the room, looking clearly uninterested, Su-bong quickly adds, “From Club Pentagon?”

That is what seems to finally jog his memory, as The Joker slowly turns back to face Su-bong, and the slightest hint of recognition spreads across his face. “Pentagon,” he repeats, and Su-bong nods, breathing a sigh of relief when The Joker continues with, “Right. Sure.”

He probably just doesn’t recognize me when I’m not under the club lights, Su-bong tells himself. After all the free shit I’ve given him, after everything I’ve done for him, he can’t not know who I am… right? 

“So, what are you doing here?” Su-bong asks as the line moves forward; he and The Joker are standing around the middle, meaning that they’ll still have some time before it’s their turn. After all, Su-bong is here because he’s flat-broke and drowning in debt… but The Joker is a famous rapper, known for flaunting his wealth any chance he gets. Surely he can’t be in the same kind of situation as Su-bong… right?

The Joker lets out a quiet tsk, an irritated click of his tongue, but doesn’t give Su-bong an answer. 

“Do you really think they’ll be giving out 45 billion?” Su-bong decides to ask instead. “I mean, that seems like a wild thing to do just for… playing a few games, you know?” The Joker remains quiet, just staring ahead as they get closer to the front of the line, but Su-bong continues this one-sided conversation. “They better not be fucking with us,” he goes on, glancing up at the empty piggybank above their heads. “That fucking club pays like shit, and I don’t know how else I’m supposed to get back all the money I lost investing in that stupid fucking crypto coin, Dalmatian–” 

“Dalmatian?” The Joker repeats, finally looking back towards Su-bong, his interest seemingly piqued as he raises a pierced eyebrow.

Su-bong nods, a wave of delight passing over him as The Joker finally pays attention to him… which quickly disappears though, when he’s reminded of the reality of his own situation. “Yeah– you heard of it?” he says.

The Joker scoffs, his expression grim. “Heard of it,” he confirms, his voice low and smooth. “Lost a billion won to it.” 

“A billion?” Su-bong says, then quickly covers his mouth with his hand as he realizes his shock made him speak without thinking. “Sorry.”

The Joker glares at him, a faint pink blush spreading across his cheekbones, before he continues. “It wasn’t my fucking fault– I’m not some kind of idiot,” he says firmly, like he’s trying to defend himself from an accusation Su-bong never made. “I only did it because that fucking bitch tricked me.” 

“Wait– are you talking about JH Coin?” Su-bong asks as they once again move forward in the line. At the sound of her name, The Joker tenses, then nods. “Ah– she’s the one that fucking scammed me too!” Su-bong tells him, bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement as he realizes that he and The Joker have something in common. Sure, that something might be life-ruining debt, but still… it was something. 

The Joker looks at Su-bong, almost like he’s studying him, almost like he’s… assessing Su-bong, trying to decide what to make of him. His gaze is heavy, enough to almost make Su-bong squirm, but he knows that this could finally be his chance, his chance to really stick it with the rapper, to become more than just the guy who works at Club Pentagon.

The Joker’s gaze is heavy… until it turns amused, and his lips pull into a cunning smile. “She’s here too, you know,” The Joker says, taking a step closer to Su-bong. “Did you see how those pink bastards aired her business for everyone here to see?” Su-bong hadn’t, for he’d been too busy staring at The Joker in the crowd and trying to figure out if this was all a dream or not, but he doesn’t say that, and instead just nods. “Ever since the coin fell through and her channel went quiet, I thought she was gone for good, that she’d just ruined my life and fucked off… but now, she’s in here with the rest of us.” The Joker’s smile grew in a way that is eerily similar to the one tattooed on the back of the rapper’s hand, a signature part of his persona. “What do you say we go have a little word with her once we’re done agreeing to this thing?”

Despite that being the longest conversation he’s ever had with The Joker, just one simple word rings through Su-bong’s mind– we. 

Su-bong can’t help but match The Joker’s grin. “I’m right behind you.”

[luiuni]

oh my god. you are like genuinely my biggest fan, and I love you so so SOOO MUCH!!! ILL DRAW MORE SWAP THANGYU FOR YOU I PROMISE. idek what to say like i actually don’t nobody has ever done this for me before I feel so honored and appreciated and I hope you feel the same way because everybody I know will be hearing about this. I will draw anything you want oomf I am in your debt forever this was so beautifully written and I love that you made namgyu so cold in this and not as unserious as thanos was in canon like how I originally thought joker namgyu to be! you really brought my au so much love since the start and I cannot thank you enough for all the love I have received <3

been thinking about @luiuni's thangyu swap au (original artwork posts here and here) for so long that i just had to write a little something based on it. apologies if it is not great,,, this was a a bit of an experiment in figuring out their swapped personalities, i feel like i could never do this incredible art justice but it was super fun to write and i am so so obsessed with this au so i hope you enjoy it regardless 🙏

read the ficlet below the cut! [2.5k words]

First, there was that man that had been lurking in the alleyway outside of Club Pentagon, seemingly waiting for Su-bong to finish his shift– that weird fucker, wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase of money that had asked him to play ddakji, and had slapped Su-bong so hard every time he lost that his cheeks had hurt for the next few days. 

First, there was that man that had been lurking in the alleyway outside of Club Pentagon, seemingly waiting for Su-bong to finish his shift– that weird fucker, wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase of money that had asked him to play ddakji, and had slapped Su-bong so hard every time he lost that his cheeks had hurt for the next few days. 

Then, there was the business card that the man had handed Su-bong before disappearing out of the alley and into the busy city streets, gone before Su-bong had even finished reading what was on the card. On one side, the print of a circle, triangle, and square; on the second side, a phone number that, when Su-bong finally called it a few days later, gave him a time and place to meet. 

Every instinct in Su-bong had told him not to go to the meeting place, and the warning in his gut grew even worse when a creepy-as-hell van pulled up in front of him, and a person in a pink jumpsuit and a black mask sitting in the driver’s seat ordered him into the van… but what other choice did Su-bong have? Go back to his apartment that he was sure to get kicked out of when he couldn’t pay his rent the following week? Go back to his shitty life, ruined by the fucking crypto scam that had drained him of everything he’d worked so hard for the past few years? Go back to his job at the club where he was overworked and underpaid, ignored by the clients he did so much for, where the only perk was the occasional time he could sneak some of the drugs they secretly sold to the highest-paying customer and get high in the staff bathroom?

Maybe it was a stupid idea for Su-bong to get in that van, but what else did he have to lose?

He thought the man in the suit, the mysterious business card, and the shady van had been weird… but Su-bong’s strange and confusing week only continues, and now has some fear thrown into it, when he passes out mere seconds after getting into the van. When he comes to, he can’t tell how long he’d been asleep for– just that his mouth is uncomfortably dry, he has an uncomfortable ache in his neck like he’d been sleeping on it weird, and… and that he’s not wearing his clothes. 

When he’d gotten into that van, Su-bong had yet changed out of his all-black work clothes, since he’d come straight from his shift at Pentagon to the meeting spot; now, he wears plain white shoes and a green tracksuit, the latter of which has a patch with the number 230 stitched onto the fabric, the number resting right above Su-bong’s heart– which is starting to beat faster as his confusion, and slight panic, grows. 

The cheerful music that starts suddenly to play doesn’t help his panic, either– nor does the realization of his surroundings, when Su-bong finally looks up and sees where he is: a large room, filled with tall bunk beds– one of which Su-bong himself lays on– and what looks like hundreds of other people, all wearing identical outfits to him. 

Well, almost identical– it seems like the only difference between each of them, as far as Su-bong can see, are the numbers on each of their tracksuits. Su-bong glances down at his own number, then back up to the rest; there are too many people around him to count, as they all start to get up from their beds and congregate in the middle of the room, and Su-bong can only catch brief glimpses of the numbers around him– 333, 044, 120, 380– just how many people are here? Had they all been invited by that same man? Is this even real, or had Su-bong taken a bit too much of a “free sample” during his last shift, and this was all just some weird trip he hadn’t yet come down from?

It’s been a strange and confusing week for Su-bong, but standing in a crowd of hundreds of other people all dressed in identical outfits, all looking up at a line of men dressed in weird pink costumes and black masks, and being told that they had all been brought here to play a bunch of games for a week to win money definitely takes first place in the strange and confusing department.

What the fuck is going on? Su-bong thinks as the pink-clad man at the front of the room explains their situation. He remembers the man in the suit saying something about games when he’d handed Su-bong the card, but that motherfucker had failed to mention anything about getting drugged in a van and taken away to an unknown location.

Su-bong is so caught up in his own thoughts that he’s not quite paying attention when some of the other people, the ones in the green jumpsuits just like him, start to speak up, voicing their own concerns about the situation and asking questions. He tries to tune them out, trying to focus on not freaking the fuck out– when someone else speaks up, and sends a shock through Su-bong’s system. 

“What’s with these shoes?” whined a frustrated voice from behind Su-bong. “My shoes are limited fucking edition– they’re hard to find! Are you going to replace them if they get damaged?” 

The words ring through Su-bong, echoing in his mind even after the next person speaks up to complain, though it’s not the words exactly that caught Su-bong’s attention; rather, it’s the voice that spoke them– a voice that Su-bong recognizes immediately.

With people cramped on either side of him, hundreds of bodies squished into the middle of the room, Su-bong isn’t able to fully turn around. He can only look over his shoulder, but even just that is good enough, as when his eyes quickly scan the sea of green behind him, it isn’t long at all before they locate exactly what Su-bong is looking for. 

Dark hair streaked with green, grown down to shoulders and styled in a way that made it seem effortlessly messy. Metal piercing an eyebrow, both ears, and a bottom lip (and, though he can’t see it from here, Su-bong knows a similar metal bulb pierces his tongue, too), flashes of cold silver against warm, fair skin. A gaze darkened by black makeup, shadows around the corners of eyes that Su-bong had many a time found himself getting entranced by. A beautiful face pulled into a cold, mean expression as he stares up at the pink guards, desperate to know what happened to his designer shoes. 

Su-bong had been starting to feel like he was suffocating in that room, with so many other people around him and under the fear of having been taken to an unknown location, but now, just for a moment, he feels like he can breathe again. 

_______

Once that weird guy in the pink uniform finishes explaining the rules of this… competition, or whatever it is that they’ve all been brought here to do, he orders all the players who wish to proceed with the games to line up. For some consent form, Su-bong thinks he said, but he had sort of stopped listening to that droning voice once he’d caught sight of him in the crowd. 

Kim Nam-gyu. The Joker. 

Su-bong knows of his music, of course– The Joker had risen to stardom in the past few years, ever since he’d appeared on the Rap Battleground competition; even though he’d fucked up his own song in the final round and landed in second place, he’d still won the prize of fame, and it wasn’t long after the underground rapper made his first appearance on a competition show that he was selling out stadiums.

Su-bong knows of The Joker’s music, but it isn’t his fame that makes Su-bong push against the crowd, moving in the opposite direction while the rest of the green-clad players start lining up to sign their waivers. It isn’t The Joker’s celebrity status that made Su-bong’s heart skip a beat when he’d first spotted him in the crowd, either. It isn’t the fact that he’s The Joker at all that draws Su-bong to him, or what drew Su-bong to him back then either. 

The Joker moves through the crowd in a way that makes it hard for Su-bong to keep track of him– pushing in front of other people, glaring at those who try to tell him to get to the back of the line– and his shorter height doesn’t make it any easier to keep track of him as he moves, but at least his signature dyed hair gives Su-bong something to pick out of the crowd, to keep searching for as he gets closer. As he gets closer, Su-bong feels himself getting more excited– relief that there’s someone else in this place that he knows, relief that he isn’t going to be here alone, but also… a thrill that that someone is The Joker, the same thrill that Su-bong always felt course through him whenever he would see the singer walk through those club doors–

A thrill that quickly dissipates when Su-bong reaches him, when a hand on The Joker’s shoulder causes him to turn around, when he stares up at Su-bong with that cold, mean expression and asks, “What?”

Su-bong swallows his surprise at the reaction, ignores the humiliation from the people around them starting to stare, and smiles down at the other man. “Nam– I mean, Joker,” he says. “What the hell are you doing here, man?” 

The Joker only continues to stare at Su-bong, looking like there’s a bad smell in the air. He shrugs Su-bong’s hand off of his shoulder as he gives Su-bong a once-over, before he asks, “Do I know you?”

Su-bong lets his hand fall back down to his side, and tries not to feel hurt by the sharp, cutting edge to The Joker’s words. That’s just how he is, Su-bong reminds himself. He keeps his smile and steps closer to the singer, joining him in the line despite the people waiting behind them. “Come on, don’t you recognize me?” Su-bong jokes, forcing a light laugh. “It’s me, Su-bong.” When The Joker starts to turn back to look back to the front of the room, looking clearly uninterested, Su-bong quickly adds, “From Club Pentagon?”

That is what seems to finally jog his memory, as The Joker slowly turns back to face Su-bong, and the slightest hint of recognition spreads across his face. “Pentagon,” he repeats, and Su-bong nods, breathing a sigh of relief when The Joker continues with, “Right. Sure.”

He probably just doesn’t recognize me when I’m not under the club lights, Su-bong tells himself. After all the free shit I’ve given him, after everything I’ve done for him, he can’t not know who I am… right? 

“So, what are you doing here?” Su-bong asks as the line moves forward; he and The Joker are standing around the middle, meaning that they’ll still have some time before it’s their turn. After all, Su-bong is here because he’s flat-broke and drowning in debt… but The Joker is a famous rapper, known for flaunting his wealth any chance he gets. Surely he can’t be in the same kind of situation as Su-bong… right?

The Joker lets out a quiet tsk, an irritated click of his tongue, but doesn’t give Su-bong an answer. 

“Do you really think they’ll be giving out 45 billion?” Su-bong decides to ask instead. “I mean, that seems like a wild thing to do just for… playing a few games, you know?” The Joker remains quiet, just staring ahead as they get closer to the front of the line, but Su-bong continues this one-sided conversation. “They better not be fucking with us,” he goes on, glancing up at the empty piggybank above their heads. “That fucking club pays like shit, and I don’t know how else I’m supposed to get back all the money I lost investing in that stupid fucking crypto coin, Dalmatian–” 

“Dalmatian?” The Joker repeats, finally looking back towards Su-bong, his interest seemingly piqued as he raises a pierced eyebrow.

Su-bong nods, a wave of delight passing over him as The Joker finally pays attention to him… which quickly disappears though, when he’s reminded of the reality of his own situation. “Yeah– you heard of it?” he says.

The Joker scoffs, his expression grim. “Heard of it,” he confirms, his voice low and smooth. “Lost a billion won to it.” 

“A billion?” Su-bong says, then quickly covers his mouth with his hand as he realizes his shock made him speak without thinking. “Sorry.”

The Joker glares at him, a faint pink blush spreading across his cheekbones, before he continues. “It wasn’t my fucking fault– I’m not some kind of idiot,” he says firmly, like he’s trying to defend himself from an accusation Su-bong never made. “I only did it because that fucking bitch tricked me.” 

“Wait– are you talking about JH Coin?” Su-bong asks as they once again move forward in the line. At the sound of her name, The Joker tenses, then nods. “Ah– she’s the one that fucking scammed me too!” Su-bong tells him, bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement as he realizes that he and The Joker have something in common. Sure, that something might be life-ruining debt, but still… it was something. 

The Joker looks at Su-bong, almost like he’s studying him, almost like he’s… assessing Su-bong, trying to decide what to make of him. His gaze is heavy, enough to almost make Su-bong squirm, but he knows that this could finally be his chance, his chance to really stick it with the rapper, to become more than just the guy who works at Club Pentagon.

The Joker’s gaze is heavy… until it turns amused, and his lips pull into a cunning smile. “She’s here too, you know,” The Joker says, taking a step closer to Su-bong. “Did you see how those pink bastards aired her business for everyone here to see?” Su-bong hadn’t, for he’d been too busy staring at The Joker in the crowd and trying to figure out if this was all a dream or not, but he doesn’t say that, and instead just nods. “Ever since the coin fell through and her channel went quiet, I thought she was gone for good, that she’d just ruined my life and fucked off… but now, she’s in here with the rest of us.” The Joker’s smile grew in a way that is eerily similar to the one tattooed on the back of the rapper’s hand, a signature part of his persona. “What do you say we go have a little word with her once we’re done agreeing to this thing?”

Despite that being the longest conversation he’s ever had with The Joker, just one simple word rings through Su-bong’s mind– we. 

Su-bong can’t help but match The Joker’s grin. “I’m right behind you.”

[luiuni]

hyun ju again! I love her dearly

[luiuni]

thangyuri.. I love thangyuri…

[luiuni]

hiiii jiyongggg happy birthday king

[luiuni]

reminder that GD also hid T.O.P's face in his Still Life anniversary post and nobody was sending him threats like theyre doing to to Daesung.

When GD hides T.O.P's face, he's respecting his wishes, but when Daesung's editors blur his face, Daesung's a monster? pls...

[luiuni]

i lied, put your clothes back on

i'm going to tell you in agonising detail why i think choi seunghyun aka T.O.P was actually most comfortable with daesung and not, contrary to popular belief, gd

[luiuni]

Daesung 😇 K-star spark in BKK 2025

(part 1)

cr: arling_hkig

Dae's nine-grid photo set.

[luiuni]

hi guys thangyu is canon

[luiuni]

DAESUNG DAESUNG DAESUNG HIIII DLITE I LOVE HIM SM SM SM!!!

[luiuni]

thanos and namgyu as stu and billy from scream !! ugh I love scream so much and I was gonna post last night but I fell asleep …

[luiuni]

Your art is so beautiful, like actually stunning. Your thangyu has me 🧎‍♀️‍➡️🤲

AWWW THANK YOU!!! I’m gonna be posting more tonight !!

[luiuni]

hiii ur art is super cool and in one of your posts I noticed u use procreate so I was wondering what brushes u use or if u have any brush recommendations?

YESSS AND TY !! I use all of jingsketch basics brushes and some of procreates! jingsketch is free but you gotta download them. My main brushes are Artist Crayon, Flat Square, Soft Brush, Clean Sketch, Round Render, Soft Chalk, Glover, Grunge, and Decimals! 🤍