show me the sun

be the one to take my soul and make it undone. + kim kibum (key) | 23 | snorkeling instructor | body piercer +

[palmkey]

"and when i breathed, my breath was lightning."

with the hiatus, i’ve decided to move key to my indie multi-muse rp account instead. i have too much muse for him to completely let go, but not enough opportunities to utilize it here, unfortunately. if you would like to continue any threads with key, you are more than welcome to do so; i’ll just be responding from that account instead. i’m also open to working in the same verse (palm) or an alternate one if so desired. thank you to those i’ve written with here, and best luck to everyone else! hopefully we might be able to meet again.

[kibvm]

Key for「Nylon Korea」 

[jihoon247]

Who, me?!

[jihoon247]

As it turns out, Jihoon is irremediably curious. He worked ah the Shack and never even once tried to participate or learn anything because he didn’t have the time (school + work) aaaand because of the fact the ocean was a little scary. But this time it was different, he was invited to learn.

It was right there in front of him. The opportunity, you know? This was not him using his worker discount or bothering the teachers and instructors, it was an offering. What the hell, right? His shift was over anyway and Jihoon wasn’t in a rush to get home to a pile of dirty dishes.

“Ok? Yeah… Yes, I think I want to learn. Who knows? Maybe I have a hidden talent?“ He smiled too, eyeing the snorkel. "But… Why me? I mean… Why… All of a sudden…”

[palmkey]

ah, an agreement! this would be so much easier than having to bother waiting for his next client, who wasn’t scheduled for the next couple of days. not to mention he could just do the shoot now while he was still on shift so he could still get paid, as opposed to having to sign out and lose the hours for today. sure, a couple or few hours wouldn’t buy him much, but it was better than nothing and he was willing to take everything he could get to help fund his... pricier taste in clothing.

“great!” the corners of his eyes quirked up with his grin. “you definitely could have a hidden talent-- i guess we’ll find out soon enough, hmm?” at the confusion, kibum’s smile turned more sheepish. “ahh, that. well, boss wants some shots of my lessons, and since the student i was supposed to teach tonight cancelled on me, i figured i might as well ask you on the off chance you’d be interested.” pearly whites flashed with his toothy grin. “and you are, so hey! everything worked out.”

[palmkey]

dancing queen + cm;kk

[palmminki-blog]

minki rolls his eyes at ‘fair human being’ but it’s friendly. “i’m minki. it’s… i can’t say nice because you made me lose business, but.. i met you. hi.” he’s really not the best at introductions, usually gets to skip into his customer’s drunken telling of their life story, or at the very least why it is they’re sitting in front of him. (minki makes a mental note to complain about the barstools being too tall; he doesn’t like how much key is looking down at him.)

he finds a self-satisfied smirk slipping onto his face as key takes the picture. really, it’s not bad for something he just whipped up. at the very least it looks better than your average beer. minki finds himself tapping his fingers on the countertop as he waits for the other’s appraisal of his drink.

the smirk changes to a grin - the kind minki preferred not to use, it ruined his brooding artist image, but it’s almost two am and he’s proud of himself - and he manages to mutter out a ‘thanks’ before addressing the second part of key’s comment. there’s a shadow of shame as he actually has to read the bottle of juice to answer, but in his defence he’d just grabbed it because it was pink and said ‘juice’.

 “guava, actually,” he says, shaking it around inside the bottle.

[palmkey]

“meh,” he harrumphs the noncommital noise, sliding forward in his stool even more so the fingers of his extended hand dangle over the edge of the bar haphazardly, carefree and loose just like their owner. “they weren’t really drinking much if i remember correctly-- and anyways, between you and me,” a kitten-ish curl of his lips, “i’m better company.” the glass tips back for another sip, before he adds “oh, yeah: hi, by the way,” as an afterthought.

his eyes catch the smile on the other’s features-- and, really, it’s not a bad sight. he vaguely wonders if the other displays it often in this line of work. probably not, if he’s normally anything like when they very first met. yet again, kibum hadn’t been making his job very easy either, so... still. he’s not unhappy he’s managed to weasel the look out of the other.

“guava,” he echoes with the slow nod of his head. “well, it gets a thumbs-up emoji from me.” to emphasize his words, he flashes his own thumb in person, before tilting his head and picking up his phone again. “hey, y’want me to take a picture of you, give due credit to the creator of this drink? it’d give you some free advertisement-- maybe even bring in a bit of the business i so horrendously drove away.”

[jihoon247]

Who, me?!

[jihoon247]

If Jihoon was surprised before now he was hands down puzzled. The hell?! He laughed a little, showing his dimples. “No… I’m the cashier here because I’m good with numbers and terrible at anything else involving… That.” he pointed at the whole store. Honestly Jihoon spent so much time reading that magazines laying around on the counter that he should know at least a little bit about the equipments. But yeah no, his brain refused to absorb any of that.

When he got out from behind the counter, if Kibum’s worries were to find someone that looks like a student then jack fucking pot. Jihoon was actually a student and even if he was just about to graduate, if he had a snorkel on he could easy pass as a kid - a detail that he hates, by the way. He lost track of the times he wanted to make someone suffer when they asked “but aren’t you twelve?” or “hey kid, are you lost? Do you need help?” - it killed him inside.

“This thing is scary, hyung. It looks like an alien torturing device" Jihoon walked up to Kibum and touched his own face. “I feel like its gonna rip my mouth open.”

[palmkey]

hmm, so jihoon didn’t know how to snorkel. that would make things more difficult, but only slightly. it wasn’t like it was very complicated, quite frankly. his lessons were more really to display the proper usage of the equipment required to students that would ensure both their safety and the safety of the aquatic environment; the actual swimming aspect didn’t take much effort. it wasn’t like scuba diving (which he preferred, actually), where you had to learn how to relax underwater and work your muscles to resist floating. snorkeling was nearly the opposite, in which buoyancy was a swimmer’s best friend.

kibum braced his hand against the counter he was beside, leaning his weight against it as jihoon approached. “ha, you mean the mask?” he clarified with a burst of laughter, but it wasn’t taunting or cruel, only amused. “nah, it’s not so bad. it’s just like...” his lips srunched up to the side as he searched his mind for a comparison, “wearing a mouth guard connected to a giant straw that extends past your head, is all. and then those regular, huge goggles that cover the nose and eyes.”

the older scratched his chin, then offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “you wanna learn? it’s really not challenging at all.”

[foodchewer]

“do you believe in love at first sight?” *looks in mirror* yea

[palmkey]

dancing queen + cm;kk

[palmminki-blog]

   minki nods as he hears the dancer talk, hands moving behind the bar. “alright,” he grabs a glass, “your name? i’m not going to call you ‘that dancing guy’. unless you want me to?” he raises an eyebrow, checks the glass is clean.

   in complete honesty, minki doesn’t even like drinking, much less have a favorite. he guesses it helps him resist the temptation of sneaking a drink on the job, but the feeling of mixing alcohol and flavors is relaxing. maybe it’s also knowing he has complete control over his customer, can choose just how drunk they get by adding or taking away little things. he settles on something fairly simple, but decides to get creative.

sprite and vodka would be alright, he thinks. minki grabs some fruit juice, thick and pink, and pours that in the bottom of the glass, but minki likes purple better so in go a few drops of blue food coloring, too. the sprite and vodka follow.

it’s really quite pretty, the fizzy upper half sparkling in the club lights and the opaque bottom seeming to suck light in. quite proud of himself, minki gently slides the glass across the countertop, not wanting to destroy the balance.

“i’m not much of a drinker myself, so i just made something up. tell me if it’s any good, i guess,” minki says, curious how the dancer will take it.

[palmkey]

“as long as it wasn’t ‘that annoying dancing guy,’ i wouldn’t mind it so much,” he quips. “but ‘want’s’ a strong word.” his elbows bend as he leans his weight forward, forearms laid out on the counter between them. “my name’s key. and yours? i mean, i could always call you ‘party pooper,’ but that might be unfair, given you’re not forcing me to pay full price. and i,” he drawls, corners of his lips quirking upward, “pride myself on being a fair human being.”

it’s not entirely a lie: he’s fair, just usually only when it serves to benefit him. of course, wording it that way would have been robbing the bartender of kibum’s dramatic flair-- a true loss, indeed.

he watches his new companion engage in his trade, eyes trained on curled fingers around tinted bottles and gleaming glass. there’s something about watching people perform something they’re skilled at and enjoy, regardless of the perceived scale; to witness someone lose themself in the zone is a thrilling experience.

the finished product is a vibrant lavender, bubbling and scattering luminescence, almost reminding kibum of himself. “wahh, how cute!” he exclaims, immediately withdrawing his cell phone to take a photo of the drink itself, then a selca of him holding it. “almost too cute to drink. but it’d be a shame if i didn’t give you my feedback, so here here.”

lifting the drink in a salute, kibum brings the glass to his mouth and tips, smacking his lips together after his first couple of sips. “mmm, tart. i like it. is this grapefruit?”

[jihoon247]

Who, me?!

[jihoon247]

Why would you care, was the first thing that popped on Jihoon’s brain but, as of lately, he was trying really hard to force himself into being a little less snappy. It was just weird because he has been working at the shack for almost a month now and it was safe to say that he was not friends with his co-workers. Acquaintances at best, or better yet, people that shared the same space. Jihoon didn’t have it in him to be incredibly talkative or, you know, that kind of guy who is nice to talk to, funny on all the right ways, easy to approach. He keeps it to himself - and that’s why it was so strange that Kibum asked him what he was doing later. 

“Amn…” Jihoon closed the register and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. He had plenty to do later actually. Study, write a little, maybe. Wash the dishes, which was the worst. He had a melody stuck to his head all day long and was itching to put that on paper. But… “Why? Do you need anything? Hey, actually, shouldn’t you be working now?” 

[palmkey]

true, he hadn’t exactly made any moves prior to bother trying to converse with this particular coworker, but it wasn’t like the kid had either. the latter often appeared like he wasn’t in the mood to chit-chat, and kibum understood: not everyone was as social or outgoing as he was. it wasn’t that he minded; he just didn’t feel like giving any effort when he knew the gesture wouldn’t be returned.

despite this, kibum’s boss had still asked him to take some photos of his lessons for advertising purposes. he’d claimed he wanted them to be done by the instructor himself so they would hold an ~*~authentic feel~*~. ha, bullshit. as if kibum was that gullible-- it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together and realize it was far cheaper just to have him take them instead of hiring a professional photographer. still, it wasn’t like it’d take too much effort to just snap a couple shots of one of his students with their head submerged.

he’d planned on getting his boss shots of this evening’s lesson, actually, but it was difficult to take photos of a session when there was no student. of course, he didn’t think it mattered who the student was, so long as they were a student. or, at the very least, appeared like one. “what, you memorized my schedule?” he quipped with the quirk of his eyebrow and faintly amused curl of his lips, avoiding a direct answer. “do you know how to snorkel?”

[palmkey]

i’m not here to make friends + rl;kk

{ palmxryden }

[ ✉ → ryden dirty ] i’m outside the resort [ ✉ → ryden dirty ] come down so i can own your ass at mini golf ㅋㅋㅋ

kibum leans against the glossy door of his baby blue 1959 cadillac eldorado, his baby, the one thing he’d ever allowed himself to completely splurge on-- it’s also the primary reason he lives in the cheapest place available on the island and is so stingy regarding nearly everything else, save for his clothes (you can’t put a pricetag on style, he’s always said). his lips wrap around the cherry lime lollipop clasped between his index finger and thumb, twirling the candy and idly observing the wealthy customers of the resort from behind circular sunglasses.

the twenty-three-year-old has always been a free spirit, marching to the off-kilter beat of his own, worn drum. not many can match his steps, or they give up trying fairly early in the song. somehow, however, ryden’s been one of the select few who willingly puts in the effort to keep up-- and he manages it, not only marching beside but also doing so to his own, unique beat, one that sometimes overlaps with kibum’s. the older knows his presence can be draining, what with his desire to push the boundaries and remind himself that he’s bursting with life and not just some meandering flesh sack of blood, bones, and organs, but ryden has never minded. if anything, he’s the only one kibum has felt knows what that desire feels like, a mutual need to thrive serving as a tie between them.

it’s not exactly something he voices, but kibum is incredibly grateful for ryden’s presence in his life. those restless feet of his often lead him trekking down foreign paths, scratching up and dirtying the calloused soles of his feet (he wishes they’d leave scars on his soul instead, proof of his existence, of his travels). he’ll admit it: it can be lonely at times, this quest and thirst for adventure. but he’s always known that, at a moment’s notice, ryden will be there for the journey, regardless of where it takes them. he just hopes the other knows he would do the same in return in a heartbeat.

[limitlessplaylist]

Visit Original Link

[palmkey]

We float before the sea at dusk In heavy mist, in glitter dust I smile before I want to I smile because you want to

[jihoon247]

Who, me?!

So that was another day at the shack; regular day, mostly boring as usual. Listen, is not like Jihoon hates his job, it’s just not what he dreams of doing for his life. He like music - writing music, singing, creating his own beats with his keyboard and computer - and he is involved with every single musical project his high school has to offer, but The Shack pays money enough for him to keep his place so that’s a plus. He loves music but he also has to eat, right?

As pink haired Jihoon was finishing up, closing the register, counting the money and credit card slips, he made a note to self to post “looking for roommate” flyers or something. Rent would go way smoothly, not to mention the chores. Speaking of rent, as he counted through dollars he started humming to Seasons of love without even realizing it. 

“Store is almost closed!” He announced mechanically to the few people inside looking at surfboards or who cares, just so they don’t linger around more than they should. Jihoon is terrible at small talk, specially when it involved being all suave with a costumer to make them feel comfortable. You know? “Nah, its ok, stay as long as you like, it’s not like I have anything better to do anyway” it’s how the dialogue would probably go if he had to open his mouth. He was the cashier for a reason. 

He was not rude or anything! Just the occasional case of zeropatienceness. Still, when the dude with the sizzling red tan gone wrong and his (maybe?) girlfriend left The Shack Jihoon still smiled politely with his dimples, bowed, wished them goodnight, the whole shebang. Now was just a matter to get the register done with and head home.

[palmkey]

“yeah, no, i get it: you gotta do what you gotta do. don’t worry about rescheduling yet, focus on helping your mom get better. just call me when you have time again and we’ll work something out. uh-huh, take care now.”

kibum pressed the end button on his phone and flipped its pale blue cover shut, slipping the device back into the pocket of his swim trunks. a long sigh expanded from his lips, rustling his bangs as he watched the ocean sparkle invitingly before him for a few moments. it wasn’t the first time someone had cancelled their lesson with him last minute like this, and at least his client had a good reason to, but he’d admittedly been looking forward to taking a dip today. not that he couldn’t anymore, of course, but he would have liked to get paid while doing so.

stooping over to gather the snorkeling equipment he would no longer be utilizing, kibum plodded his way back towards the shack, sand hot against the soles of his bare feet (a feeling he wasn’t sure he’d ever become fully accustomed to, if he was being honest). he was sure to brush off the white grains before he entered through the back door of the establishment, returning each piece of the gear to its appropriate location. whoever was on cashier shift’s voice filtered in from closer to the front of the store, most likely wrapping up with a couple lingering customers.

his leather flip-flops were exactly where he’d left them, along with his olive green v-neck tee, and he slipped both of them on before shuffling his way into the main store area. the bubblegum-haired boy was at the register, checking the money, and kibum was about to simply bid him good evening and head off when something made him pause. “jihoon, right?” he was pretty sure that was the kid’s name. “what’re you doing right after you finish up here?”

[palmkey]

palm island horror story + pn;kk

[sowvns]

Scary things didn’t bother Namjoon too much, you could say he would grow bored of them easily. His brain reasoned everything he saw - he thought the scariest things weren’t monsters but real life. Not succeeding. Not finishing school and leaving this island for something better than just a walk by the beach and a year round tan. People didn’t believe that Namjoon wasn’t afraid of much of anything - so they dared him to go on the ghastly ghost bus tour. They even made him sit by himself, how rude. Sighing the male pushed himself on the bus settling down toward the back. 

He tried to take in the scene, maybe he could have a good time back her, make a new friend or two. If he had to sit through this he’d make the best of it. turning to the male on his right he noticed the slight nervous edge to his body. Maybe he’d be one of the many people on this bus to actually get scared - this could be entertaining or annoying. Depending on how much the male would react. “Hey you okay there, man ? “ He asked adjusting the hat that sat on his head. It wasn’t uncommon for Namjoon to speak for strangers, more so when they seemed uneasy. His body moved forward a bit as the bus started to move. His eyes looking around at all the people who started to go tense. It was a funny comparison to Namjoon’s fluid stance.

[palmkey]

it’s not that he’s scared by ghouls and creatures of the night themselves; his brain differentiates the difference between reality and acting, can understand that little events like these are purely that: events. entertainment. meant to be a spooky, fun time for those interested. he’s not sure if he believes in real ghosts; if he does, he thinks of them more as spirits of those passed over than the demonic forces the media has warped them to appear as. most probably don’t even deserve to be associated with such portrayals. yet again, hollywood had a funny way of distorting countless concepts-- including those he knows for certain exist-- so he’s hardly surprised.

the true source of his nerves is the fact that he’s always been skittish in nature. it’s never the graphic murder scene in films that puts him on edge, but its build up. suspense rattles him more than thinking about death or even the ceaes of life ever will; not how or why, but when. and little tourist attractions like this are the worst; part of their entire purpose is to take the thrill-seekers off guard. it’s no different than taking the first step into the pitch black of a haunted house or the painstakingly torturous first ascension of a rollercoaster; with each clink of the chain against the mechanism, kibum becomes more and more anxious. here, every breath he can hear being taken around him on this bus has the same effect. still, he can’t help but live for the sensation of his heart fluttering wildly in his chest, like a caged butterfly, reminding him that he’s alive.

what he’s truly not expecting, however, is the rider sharing his seat to address him. he flinches-- visibly, at that-- and chuckles sheepishly, hand with the ticket coming to rest over his already pounding heart. “oh, yeah, ‘m fine. just a little jumpy is all--” the tour guide at the front of the bus turns their mic on, and the slight feedback it suddenly gives off works another jolt out of him, “--ah, holy shit.”

[palmkey]

dancing queen + cm;kk

[palmminki-blog]

   minki hears clapping, but just barely, then footsteps getting louder. he's so, so close to the bar when he hears the dancer's voice again. he decides not to reply until he's back behind the safety of his position. there's no one there covering for him like he'd expected, but then again. he and the majority of the other bartenders didn't have the best relationship. (too much of a rule-follower, they say, too rude, he hears them gossip. he'll be the first to admit he still has some of the... obedience, instilled in him as a child, but he's only human. the thought of them still leaves a sour taste in his mouth, as he no doubt does theirs.)    "mhmm, sure you do,” he answers first, internally lamenting the amount of business he's probably already lost. he still hasn't looked back at the dancer, even though minki's facing him now. “you realize i can't drink on the job, right?”    he finally looks up. minki's about to tell the other to just pay for it himself, but the kind of caring that stops him from giving minors alcohol (that causes his coworkers whispers)  pops up when he sees the dancer's pout, and he concedes. “fine, fine, i'll pay half. take it as an apology for ruining.. your fun, i guess.” 

[palmkey]

he’s used to discomfort. he’s always sort of been a bit of an oddity, putting himself out in the open brazenly without worrying about the response, but usually his actions are nothing too severe that puts off people that aren’t complete bigots (people he doesn’t wish to be in the company of or associated with, anyhow, in the first place). his friends don’t mind him. in fact, most embrace his quirkiness; they’re maybe a little embarrassed when he gets carried away, but that’s to be expected so he doesn’t mind-- he figures it’s probably a more typical response. if he was anyone else, he’d probably be a little embarrassed by himself too.

of course, he’s not anyone else.

as the wonder girls’ hit ends and bleeds into the next track (a b.a.p one, so his mind quits churning out dance steps), kibum settles himself down on the stool opposite the worker and rests his chin in his palm, elbow on the countertop. “that’s right,” he confirms with the bob of his head, “and i don’t offer to teach choreo or share the spotlight often, either. but you turned that down, so...” a sniff and shrug of his shoulders before his lips purse. “riiiight... of course i realize. you can still take the time to talk to me, though.” his teeth reveal themselves again with his grin. “i won’t object to half-off liquor, mind you. and don’t worry: i’ll have enough for both of us. surprise me and make your favorite drink, would’ya?”

[palmkey]

wheezes okay so this is just a head’s up that i probably won’t be doing any para replies for at least a couple days bc i’m actual trash and have a fic exchange check-in due tuesday that i haven’t started yet and don’t have time to write for until tomorrow night at the v earliest whoOPS. i’ll still be on aim and will check this inbox for plotting purposes and whatnot tho. sorry for any inconveniences!

[crookedflesharchive]

[ ✉ ➨ 🔑 ] why should i have to give up seeing this galactic phenomena i could eat any time [ ✉ ➨ 🔑 ] squints – fine i’m bringing my telescope though

[palmkey]

[ ✉ → mulder 👽 ] ok but don’t tell me u consider that college kibble /food./ plus it’s not free and free stuff is always a+ [ ✉ → mulder 👽 ] hold up like hell u are. i’m not gonna watch u neglect both ur food and me to do something u could v well wait an hour or two to do when u get back

[leetaes]

[palmkey]

grand opening + dc; kk

kibum has never quite understood the point of being a hipster (did people even use that term anymore? or had it finally run its long-due course?). what’s the fun in acting superior to everyone else simply by swimming against the current? he understood its intentions-- he too preferred to be his own self, whatever that pertained-- but not its executions. by consciously not allowing oneself to partake in events or behaviors despite any personal desire or even curiosity to, one is purposefully limiting themself. hence, the goal of individuality by not allowing the self to be an individual is a little ironic to him, and that wasn’t his style. for him, being an individual simply meant unapologetically being his own self without a care for what others thought. by what means didn’t matter as long as he wasn’t trying to alter himself for anyone else.

so yes, he did show up to the grand opening of this korean-japanese fusion restrauant due to all the hype in the news recently, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. the establishment was more on the high-end, and kibum was generally pretty cautious at spending more than he had, but he’d decided to splurge; he’d made it his goal a long time ago to visit each of the restaurants on the island at least once. the employees are no doubt eager to impress, so he figures today would be as good a time as any to try it out. besides, he gets to document his achievement at being one of the first customers via his instagram. so far, there are already numerous pictures of the posh interior, a couple selcas, and a short video of him rubbing his stomach and licking his lips.

he’d expected the heavy crowd what with all the advertising and buzz he’d seen in the past few weeks, so he’s not entirely surprised when one of the hosts approaches him and asks if he would object to having another solo customer be seated across from him. kibum lowers his phone just long enough to flash a polite smile and shake his head, before he returns his attention to the screen, using his reflection to fuss with his bangs yet again.