#phxkuro

[viktorph-blog]

& ⁇ % ツ ♀

Send “&” for a LOVING text:

{ sms: Kuro } You can come over.

{ sms: Kuro } Anytime.

Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text:

{ sms: Kuro } Can you teach me to braid hair???

Send “%” for a CURIOUS text: 

{ sms: Kuro } How tall are you? 

{ sms: Kuro } Average for a woman your age?

Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text: 

{ sms: Kuro } I found a set of oil based paints today.

{ sms: Kuro } That have every colour under the sun.

Send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text: 

{ sms: Kuro } I think Ahnjoo is sick. 

{ sms: Kuro } Please tell me you know something about cat flu.

[phchanyeol-blog]

We Take Care of Our Own

@phxkuro

Chanyeol had just finished with one of his fights, honestly it wasn’t that exciting, it was just a kid who was in too over his head to realize it. It’s ‘wins’ like these that got under Chanyeol’s skin the most, these kids were so young and so full of anger and hate that they thought that fighting was the only way out. That the Jindallae Tournament was going to solve all their problems, naive little kids. They had a better chance of dying than winning, and if they did win? Who said life was going to be any better? Maybe you get some perks, but was that really worth killing everyone to survive? To survive in a situation you voluntarily put yourself in the first place? He hoped that him knocking these kids around gave them a sense of reality, after all if they couldn’t beat him in a fight, what made them think they were going to be the next Jindallae Tournament Champion?  

Lost in his own minor inner rant he almost didn’t notice Kuro walk in looking rather sulky. Another kid that broke his heart, a girl who fought, but not for the Jindallae Tournament like the rest of them. He didn’t understand her much, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to take care of her and protect her. “Yah!” He called out as she got closer, he noticed all the cuts and bruises on her form, this kid skipping out on after care again. “Did you walk off again without taking care of your wounds? You’re going to get them infected one day I swear.” He says with a scowl, ignoring his own wounds that he was supposed to be dressing to focus on hers. “Come here,” He says tilting his head at the bench he was sitting on, first aid kid sprawled out in front of him. 

“Come tell me whatever’s making your forehead wrinkle like that,” He said pointing to her head. “You should tell me what’s bothering you before you get permanent wrinkles at eighteen.”