#yuyanxmi

[mixseungwoo]

☯ — waiting for the punchline ✗

even after more than a year of working at the grotto, there’s much his coworkers don’t know about him. weijun knows more than anyone else, and seungwoo likes to believe he’s on the higher end of the totem pole off people that know things about weijun, too. yuyan knows enough, but that’s all, and it still ultimately amounts to little. 

they know he’s a hitman, and as such, that he can defend himself, but the extent is a mystery, and seungwoo, always with a flair for the dramatic in recent times, is more than happy to finally show it off. yuyan is the one in the grotto most worthy of witnessing his hidden wushu skills, and really, seungwoo knows he’s not worthy to show her. he doesn’t just call her shimu because he calls weijun shifu, and it’s a dig at them acting like a married couple, but because he knows he has much to learn from her. he’s eager to, even if it goes against his carefree image. he would admit it, too.

yuyan agreed to go to the gym with him before work after enough jokes about wanting her to fight him, so here they are, at seungwoo’s place of choice. he’s interested in seeing her workout routine too, and how it differs from his own, if at all. he works out to maintain his physique, of course, since that’s a job requirement, but he tries to make sure his wushu skills aren’t too rusty, too.

first thing’s first, though: “alright, shimu. fuck me up,” and he says it with the widest, mishevious smile.

                                                                                                           ☯ —— @yuyanxmi

[magpiemi]

* take flight.

bird watching with @yuyanxmi !! 

maybe it’s a little sad that her affection for the winged creatures stretched further than her chosen alias. at her age, perhaps she should be out at parties, meeting friends for coffee on a cold afternoon or curling up at home with a cute boy and a movie they’d rather kiss through, but yeji’s life has, at fear of sounding cliche, never been that ordinary. isolated for so long, yeji still finds familiarity in her own company. hours spent watching the birds come and go from her window, though she doesn’t want to relive nor remember the years spent under her father’s careful watch, is a old comfort. except, now she can go outside and breathe in the fresh air, wrapped up in a scarf and a long coat, eyes wide as the blackbirds swoop past her head to nests and hiding spots in nearby trees. 

today, there’s a whole host of starlings feeding off the seed scattered across the grass for them. they’re scrambling to beat one another to the feast, but yeji thinks they look peaceful — happy. 

that is, until someone comes stomping along and every last one flies off into the distance and she’s left with nothing but a sad, miserable patch of wet grass. not even a dog to ogle at instead, to make the loss of her precious birds a little easier to bear. 

“hey! why’d you have to scare them away with your yeti footsteps, idiot! they were just trying to have their damn lunch!”