sammyiam // ◔3m
sammyiam #tbt to when i killed my scalp ✌️

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@rksammy
sammyiam // ◔3m
sammyiam #tbt to when i killed my scalp ✌️
・゚❤︎˟ 𝒌𝒕 𝒇𝒍𝒚𝒆𝒓 、 ━ @rksammy
he’s a familiar face and it takes sia a few minutes to recognize where she knows him from - only to realize he’s one of the neighbours that she’s probably never talked to. it was just once, early in the morning when she was coming home from grocery shopping at the 24hr mart just to avoid the crowds - he looked a little tired. she doesn’t even know if he’d recognize her. ( frankly, sia wouldn’t blame him. )
the approach is slow and hesitant, but sia still wears a warm smile regardless. in her hands, the flyer: the one for kt, the one they asked her to hand out as part of her first duties as a trainee. she’s trying to do this dutifully. so with a chipper voice, she asks the neighbour that she doesn’t quite know the name of, “ um, excuse me! would you like a flyer? it’s from kt entertainment!”
sammy, is by principle, tired as always. he refuses to sleep though-- not during his rare break between his jobs where he can finally work on things ( or, more likely, goof off and play 2k while simba tries to bite the controller from his hands ). he’s caught off guard, however, by the familiar figure-- and he blinks at her once. “oh. hey, i know you! i think.”
then, he gently accepts the flyer offered to him and glances it over once-- and though he doesn’t think he’d ever fit in at kt of all places, he politely folds the sheet and tucks it into his pocket. looking up again, he flashes her one of his crooked smiles, just a little bit weary around the edges, as he adjusts his beanie and slips one hand into his pockets and uses the other to bid her a wave. “thanks. work hard, huh? i’ll see you around!”
❛ and i ;
– w. ・゚☆ @jiwonrk ・゚
the air is humid-- slender fingers tighten around the cool relief of a glass bottle.
sammy sits on the sidewalk, presses the bottle of coke to his lips ( and if there’s something else mixed in - no one is the wiser ), takes big gulps and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. there’s a pleasant buzz in his head. he leans back, hand pressed agains the cement. and he tilts his head back to gaze up, through his white-blonde bangs, to where the stars would be if he weren’t in the polluted city.
his other hand brings the nearly finished cigarette to his lips, and he breathes in deep as his head lolls back lazily and to the side-- just as a back door to the building behind him opens. he exhales, slow and deliberate as his eyes regard the man who just appeared in the alleyway. sammy slowly pulls himself back up in an attempt to stand up, resting halfway with his elbows perched on his knees.
“yo, sorry - i’m not supposed to be back here right- lemme,” and he tries to rise to his feet, but the pleasant buzz quickly becomes an incessant, hazy cloud as he freezes -- “fuck, okay, just gimme one sec.”
sammyiam // ◔15s
sammyiam @lalalisa.97 makin me blush. jk she told such a bad joke I wanted to cry someone save me. ( i will still give her photo creds tho. )
also i’ve gone back to emo boi if u hadn’t noticed the new (old) color :^)
❛ soju bois ;
– w. ・゚☆ @rkxbin ・゚
sammy doesn’t really know how many bottles they’d gone through. he doesn’t know, even with them sitting stock still right in front of him-- because he is borderline drunk and staring at one, his head propped up on his fist, as if it holds the secrets to the uniiverse.
it started like this-- an hour or two ago, with sammy excited to be able to meet up with changbin after so long of not seeing him. he was in the mood for a good drink, so he’d suggested the cozy bbq restaurant by his apartment -- so that in the case things did get out of hand he’d be able to offer the younger male a place to crash.
fast forward and it’s looking like that’s where the night is headed, as sammy turns his head to look at the younger. “binnie bin, how’s life been treatin’ ya huh? honestly,” and his words aren’t too slurred, he’s not falling all over the place, he’s still coherent and ( more or less ) responsible, but he is much more talkative then he would be normally.
“personally, my old man’s been breathing down my neck again,” and his lips turn into a childish pout, one eye blinking open lazily, slow and cat-like. “i hope everythin’s okay with you.”
❛ mishaps & mayhem ;
-- w. ・゚☆ @rksuas ・゚
it’s at ungodly hours of the morning that sammy is finally tredging his way home from the overcrowded club-- and normally, it’s just his scene -- the lights and the glitter flying everywhere and the gyrating bodies on the dance floor. however, with the hangover he had sported already going in and all the complicated drinks the youngsters were ordering for whatever reason-- tonight was not one of those nights.
he even debated showering at all, but he decided that he would for the comfort of it and crash immediately into bed right after. it’s when he’s out of the steaming bathroom, one hand drying the pure white strands of his hair, that his phone screen lighting up catches his eye. he reaches for it with his free hand, absentmindedly, flicks his thumb to swipe the screen open-- and promptly drops his towel.
because in his open messaging app is a text from none other than kim sua-- and it’s not the normal threatening texts or the texts berating him-- it’s a very explicit text that has his mouth drying as he blinks a few times, flipping his phone over, exiting and clicking into the app again, checking the contact to make sure it’s her. eventually, he lets out a startled, shocked laugh, as his fingers fly nimbly over the screen.
[ kim sua ]
✉ → you know, somehow ✉ → for no particular reason at all ✉ → i have just a teeny tiny ✉ → very vague feeling that i wasn’t the person meant to recieve those texts
what do u call an indecisive bee?? a maybee. …okay i’ll drop now and see myself out this was shortlived goodbye i love u all i
OKA Y alrighty anyway– hello guys!! some of u may remember this trainwreck of a muse, but tis kim woosung, or sammy, back at it again, takin names nd terrorizin the town. thank you, as always, to the overwhelming amount of welcomes i’ve received, i’m working to get to all the messages! i’ve added his links for easy viewing below, please let me know if any plots/starter ideas catch ur eye. and i’m notoriously really bad at this, but PLS PLS
go ahead and ♥ ( LIKE ) ♥ this humble post if i’m able to come bother u for some threads!! or, leave ur current favorite song as a comment for a charisma starter.
about | plots ( i’ve reset the whole plot page- pls let me know if you had one of the spots before and would like to keep it! thank u~ i also have some ideas not listed so come hither lemme lov u )
pls come plot with us, thank thank!! ♡
what do u call an indecisive bee?? a maybee. ...okay i’ll drop now and see myself out this was shortlived goodbye i love u all i
OKA Y alrighty anyway-- hello guys!! some of u may remember this trainwreck of a muse, but tis kim woosung, or sammy, back at it again, takin names nd terrorizin the town. thank you, as always, to the overwhelming amount of welcomes i’ve received, i’m working to get to all the messages! i’ve added his links for easy viewing below, please let me know if any plots/starter ideas catch ur eye. and i’m notoriously really bad at this, but PLS PLS
go ahead and ♥ ( LIKE ) ♥ this humble post if i’m able to come bother u for some threads!! or, leave ur current favorite song as a comment for a charisma starter.
about | plots ( i’ve reset the whole plot page- pls let me know if you had one of the spots before and would like to keep it! thank u~ i also have some ideas not listed so come hither lemme lov u )
pls come plot with us, thank thank!! ♡
❛ thinkin of you ;
rklisa:
coming home after practice has become one of the best moments in her training life. in fact, it’s probably her favorite time of day, when she sees her apartment complex in sight, goes up the elevator and can just flop down on her mattress ( still without a bedframe, still for the aesthetic ), she takes a shower, dries her hair, changes into clothes that are clean and comfortable, and she feels like it’s one of the best times. she’s always been more of a night person, so she feels the most productive after practice, which is ironic, considering everything.
she hears him walking toward her door even before the knock, and she starts to make her way to the front of her shared apartment so that by the time she hears his voice, she’s nearly there. she opens the door, letting only her head show as she looks at him. “people say that it’s bad to let strangers into your house, so should i really let you in?”
an easy laugh, because by now he knows that she wouldn’t deny him of anything, especially not when he had food. she steps away from the door, putting her hands in the pocket of her sweatshirt ( not her’s, probably stolen and probably from him ) to let him in. “isn’t it cold outside? how are you not freezing?” her eyes go to the food that he’s holding, her expression visibly brightening as she’s suddenly aware of how hungry she is. “what did you bring?”
“am i really a stranger at this point?” he remarks dryly, one eyebrow raised. “i am hurt. now you have to make it up to me.” the effect is, however, ruined by a cheeky grin.
he gently slides past her once the door opens wider, eyes fixing immediately on her top. “hm... that sweater looks really familiar,” he muses, sarcasm dripping heavily from his tone. “did you buy the same one? in the same size? interesting-- what a coincidence.” there’s no malice in his tone though-- rather, it’s colored with amusement. “well. looks better on you anyways,” he sniffs, breezing past her and setting the bags of food down on the counter.
“because,” he snarks, lips curling at the corners, “i’m warm blooded,” he laughs. “just kidding. it was cold. i’m just stupid,” he admits cheerily as he unpacks the boxes from the bag he packed. “takeout from that bento place we went to once. low calorie, for your terrible diet,” he wrinkles his nose, breaking apart bamboo chopsticks and handing some to the other.
“Had a good day?”
sammyiam // ◔2s
sammyiam i got a haircut. in the winter. my big head is 3x smaller, and my ears 10x colder. help.
❛ thinkin of you ;
@rklisa
thank god for seoul and it’s 24/7 restaurants - and especially the restaurants with 25/8 delivery services. because to be honest, the best place he could find with healthy options was twenty minutes in the opposite direction of where he was headed-- and does he feel bad for getting them to deliver all the way over here? maybe just a little bit. but the thought is wiped from his mind as he moves the neatly packed boxes from the clear, plastic delivery bag to a more durable lunchbox. he checks his phone, and it’s late but-- ‘she should be about home by now.’
so he sets off, loading the food into a backpack and slinging it over his shoulders, jamming his helmet over his head and setting off on his old, rusty, but still functioning motorbike. he parks it in the same, familiar spot he always does in the garage of her apartment complex. despite his careless demeanour, he opens up his bag to make sure everything was still in tact. he heads up the familiar path, familiar halls to her apartment, knocks sharply on the wood-- not loud enough to wake up anyone else.
his voice is singsong as he calls out in a hushed but clear whisper, amusement lacing his tone.
“hey bighead-- open up, you’ve got a delivery.”
it's quiet outside.
and the air is colder, biting at sammy's skin-- and for someone who normally has a jacket on at all times-- he stands on the balcony in nothing but his raggedy t-shirt from some old band he used to play in back in high school. he stares down at the bustling streets, letting out a soft sigh-- released into the evening air in a soft puff of white smoke.
the half burnt stick hangs from his fingers-- it's been a while. but at least it warms him up somehow. he glances behind him, at the guitar haphazardly dropped on the floor behind him-- the notebook pages scattered like dead leaves.
he leans forward, arm propped up against the balcony, and lays his head down.
exhales.
˟ ▀ it’s you .
rkjei:
━ it’s your expression. you always look like you’re scheming something. ❪ ˟ . she pauses for just a second, crossing her arms in front of her. ❫ it’s probably your hair. ❪ ˟ . her eyes scan him, from the way he feigns innocence in his eyes to how he points at himself. ❫ so you can stop pretending now. you’re acting like i don’t know you when i know you all too well. ❪ ˟ . her voice is clipped as she speaks to him, tapping her arm with a finger - sammy never fails to grate on her nerves somehow, but still he always seems to get his way. manipulative little shit. ❫ and you’re asking me for company? of all people? ❪ ˟ . she tilts her head with a grimace. ❫ is this considered blackmail because i know what you have in your phone, or do you genuinely want to spend time with me?
( * sammy’s grin widens slightly as he runs his fingers through his hair with a laugh. ) don’t i always, though? ( * he pretends to be offended, one hand dramatically hovering over his heart. ) my hair is what gets all the ladies and gents, thanks. and my guitar-- but that’s besides the point. ( * he huffs quietly, grin dimming into something a bit more genuine as he shrugs gently. ) you’re right. i know this-- but it’s still fun playing pretend, you know? ( * and his grin stretches back out because he knows there’s a good chance she’ll entertain his childish whims for the day. ) yeah? what’s wrong with that? ( * and sammy actually-- feels his lips tug gently into a frown before he forces it to curl up again, masking it. ) who says i haven’t deleted it? ( * he forces his smile wider, mischievous as he changes the subject. ) i do actually think the company would be nice. don’t you?
sammyiam // ◔53s
sammyiam whatsup guys, its ya local egg-hair dweeb. subscribe to my soundcloud dudes thx.
˟ ▀ it’s you .
━ ❪ ˟ . if there’s one person she claims to never want to see, it’s kim woosung in all his infuriating glory. but the problem is, he knows her, probably better than most people she’d like to admit and in ways that she wouldn’t even come close to speaking aloud. seeing him here, though, is as unexpected even though it shouldn’t be - sammy has always been an enigma that she couldn’t quite wrap her head around, but he’s her headache nonetheless. ❫ sammy. ❪ ˟ . she says stiffly, arms crossed as she stares at him. ❫ i can already tell you have something planned in that head of yours, and i’m already planning on saying no so you might as well not even ask. ❪ ˟ . her brow raises because she knows him all too well. she knows he’ll probably ask anyway, just as she knows that she’ll probably give in to his whims. it’s just the little game they play now and again. ❫ what do you want?
˟ ▀ &. @rksammy
( * it’s hot and sammy is melting-- does he take off his jacket though? of course not. does he look bothered? hah. so he strolls through the festivities, his faded white-blonde hair falling in his eyes as normal, one hand shoved in his pockets and the other holding a popsicle to his lips. he hadn’t come with anyone-- but he’s already seen quite a few familiar faces already. and he sees another now, his lips curling up into a mischievous grin as it always does with her. ) well hi there. ( * and he stares at her, eyes widened innocently as he points a finger at himself. ) who me? what could i be planning? ( * he laughs and shakes his head as he finishes the popsicle, just holding onto the stick as he grins. ) but since you think so and we’ve run into each other like this... i just want some company going around the festival? is that so bad?
* sammyiam has uploaded a new video ! ━ yt ) * -- song by dean // covered by sammy kim
upload date: 09/02/2018 // length: 4:38
“hey! what’s up guys. or guy. or girl. or other. one. singular, possibly. u know-- idk who actually watches these things lol. but yeah, had some downtime before an impromptu show and wanted to learn a new song. hope you enjoy!”
❛ blessed ;
jihycrk:
tw: death mention
the past is something jihyo, in all her exuberance and grace and openness, would very much prefer to keep shut.
loss is something inimitable, it seems; there are days grief hits harder than she’d like, moments when her smile falters even just for a moment — by no means is she fake in her enthusiasm for life, but the cause of such fervour is one she tends to keep to herself, unwilling to spill all of her heart out across the table ( she still needs to keep some cards on hand, after all ). all remembrances of the person she was, and the people she surrounded herself by, are things she tries to keep away, cover up with potted plants and dancing and beat down car adventures. but on a day like today, it appears as if the universe reminds her of how it has her on a leash — and how they don’t intend on letting go.
it’s just a regular oolong tea order, at first.
she tries not to pay much attention to how familiar the voice sounds ( despite being years older ), the slight pang of something she feels as she prepares the tea in the plastic cup. where she knows the voice from is the question; there’s a ghost of familiarity, of something that probes and prods at her — a feeling she can’t seem to shake off. nevertheless jihyo ignores it ( as she does all negative emotion ), sealing the cup and walking towards the counter for the customer to receive it.
then he says her name, and memories come back to her like a flood.
she resists the urge to curse under her breath, and for a moment jihyo can only stare into the other’s face with an uncharacteristic silence. words longing to spill out end up stuck in her throat, and the girl says nothing, eyes overtaken by surprise and nostalgia ( and maybe, maybe just a bit of resentment ). zach said i’d be able to find you here — of course he did, she thinks, for a moment bitterly regretting ever telling their common friends where she spent most of her days. there’s a stall in his voice, a certain uncertainty that she catches easily; it’s simple to note people’s quirks, she finds, when you’ve grown up with them.
( she also finds that just because you’ve grown up with someone doesn’t mean you know them at all. )
“… oh.” placid smile, cold eyes. play it cool; you can’t get upset here. “you’re .. here.” clearing her throat, she takes a straw and throws it lightly beside his drink alongside a napkin, now actively averting his gaze. “would love to chat, really, but .. work’s work, you know ?” please leave. “not the best timing, sammy.” in more ways than one.
he doesn’t really know how he ended up here. and it’s super cliche-- he knows-- that looking at her in front of him makes him, for the first time in a long time, miss what he had back home. back when he called america his home. when he’d sneak his uncle’s car out using only his permit, and they’d drive to a diner in the middle of the night, laughter ringing, insults being tossed back and forth, along with bits of milkshake, cherry bits and the stray piece of bitten fry. he remembers the eyes that turned into crescents, pupils sparkling-- remembers those terribly snapbacks he and his friends used to wear with just tank tops, and the girls’ wavy hair tied up into ponytails or “apple hair” or whatever was trending back then.
he’s dfound himself missing it-- more often than not. but he also isn’t too arrogant or too self-absorbed to not see that it was his doing in the first place. he’d distanced himself and he knows it. and friends like the ones he had, deserved more than just static silence with no explanation. so... naturally...
sammy notices the cold air-- the aloofness. the way jihyo is avoiding his gaze. and he knows, almost for sure, that she is putting up a front. he knows her that at least that much. ( but does he really, anymore? )
he isn’t deterred, however.
he leans against the counter on one arm, the other hand curling around his drink as he stares at her with a blank expression, almost unnervingly. this goes on for a few seconds before he bites his lip in thought, an old habit really, before he finally pulls himself back to his full height, boba in hand. he peers at her through his overgrown white fringe. “okay then,” he pauses, thumb idly swiping at the condensation on the cup just so some part of him is moving-- a small, nervous tick. “i mean,” he shrugs as he unwraps the straw and stabs it into the lid, “i can wait. or i can come back.”
and he knows he’s being insistent, or-- not leaving much room for her to ignore him if she wants. so he adds, “unless you really don’t want me to. but i--” he pauses, wetting his lips-- another nervous tick-- but his lips curl into his easy grin anyway, a force of habit-- feigning ease. “just wanted to talk.”