#✯┊ ❝ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ’ˢ ᶰᵒ ʰᵘᵐᶦᶫᶦᵗʸ ᶦᶰ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᶜᶦᵗʸ ❞ (modern verse.)

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Is this the part where Kael finally admits that he doesn’t particularly like cookies or cake and that it is quite doubtful he’d get much enjoyment out of anything combining the two? Sure, he’s disappointed for Tida’s sake because he’s not a monster but he’s also a little relieved. Some cookies are fine. Oat cookies don’t bother him too much and those big ones you get that are kind of soft in texture. He’s not entirely what constitutes a cookie cake so, in the end, maybe he would have been fine but the relief comes from knowing there won’t be a situation wherein he doesn’t like it and then has to explain the situation much too late. Still, Tida looks pretty dejected and, for that part, this whole thing is pretty annoying.

“Mate, Guy Fieri does like greasy diners and shit”, says Kael, under his breath. He nearly says something about Great British Fuck Off before realising that, even ignoring that he’s likely the only Brit in the room, swearing at full volume will only badly hurt their cause. Besides that and those Korean ASMR recipe videos, that’s all he knows about baking. He can see why the coupon was so important though, the stuff they sell here is not cheap. “Unless we can at least demand a discount for misleading advertisement or something, I think I’d rather eat something greasy. Rough times demand rough living.” That, or he just wants away from the overpowering smell of cream frosting. “Not sure these people like us.”

But the level-headed act only lasts so long. The next minute, Kael slams his hand down on the counter. “Is this discrimination? Are we bringing down the calm vibes of your establishment by not being twee enough? Because we’ll leave right away, just give us the cake to-go. Would you treat Guy Fieri like this?”

CONTINUED FROM HERE two weeks later bc apparently i never even saw this bc i forgot to check kael’s blog rip / @sharkapologlst

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"Uh, good luck saving anybody when you’re DEAD.” This dreadfully morbid sentiment is nicely finished off with Kael pointing his thumb downward and blowing a loud raspberry. Now, nobody can accuse Kael of not being up for a little danger but this is largely because he lacks any interest in avoiding risky situations; he doesn’t search for trouble, he just walks into it. More to the point, other things he lacks might include a death wish and, more to the point, any stake or personal interest in the question of aliens and the likelihood of the American government hiding them away somewhere. Why do Americans get to hog all the fun shit anyway? "What if you get shot, huh? You ever been shot?” His eyes widen. “What if you get shot by an alien?!”

continued / @sharkapologlst

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“Just hit me with enough disinfectant that my face feels like it’s on fire and I can blame all the pain I’m in on you instead of me.” It is much too easy to let something as simple and as common as basic good manners fall by the wayside when your running thought process amounts to ‘ow, ow, oh fuck, ow’. Still, remembering himself, he coughs twice into the back of his hand and, wincing, he adds, “I’d be, uh, grateful.” / @heartmemos

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"avril lavigne invented skateboarding in 2002."

“For a second, I expected you to say punk and I just thought, ‘Wow, I’m really going to have to throttle this guy’.But this? This is 90s Skater Culture erasure and you know it. You can’t ignore hair that greasy.” Punk’s not dead, y’know, not with Kael keeping it alive since 1994! The skater stuff he could take or leave, he’s in no way attached. The last time he touched a skateboard, he was a child but all he’d done was fall off. Kael points a finger at Tida in objection. “ Also Sk8er Boi kind of has a fucked message if you really pay attention; it’s like the girl is supposed to deserve punishment for not dating some kid who probably didn’t wash. Revoke Avril’s skater license.”

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of course he can't buy a SERIOUS gift; not when the majority of time he spends with Kael is clowning around or getting into trouble. perhaps he'd gone a little off-the-rails with this one, though, laughing as he hands over a fluffy cat onesie, complete with ears and a little tail; even a pouch made for cat carrying. “ what? it's cold out! it'll keep you nice and warm! ” he defends his choice with a smile. “ and you're a cat person, right? so, do you love it or what? ” happy birthday, Kael... ?

Kael had been suspicious from the start. For one thing, he never drops details about his birthday without remembering to insist that it’s ‘not really a big deal’. Gifts, he thinks, usually fall into the category of making a deal of things and so, having relayed this to Tida with relative success, his first assumption is that he ought to be worried about what it is he’s just had stuffed into his hands. Somehow, pranks and tricks suit Tida. Thankfully, he’s not kept in much suspense as it becomes clear what the nature of this thing is the moment he begins unfolding it.

“Love’s…a strong word”, says Kael, slowly, his face scrunched up in confusion as he dangles the garment in front of him by the ears and scrutinises it. “And liking cats doesn’t mean I want to dress up as one. You want to dress up as a Nissan?” He ignores the stupidity of that remark, even though it had sounded more snappy in his head. Needless negativity is so 2018 Kae. As far as birthday gifts go, he’s had a lot worse — and that’s not counting the years he got fuck all — so, despite his complaints, Kael folds the onesie up neatly and tucks it under his arm. If nothing else, it’s a decently made onesie. If he were into comfy pyjamas and had any understanding of R&R, this would be a pretty nice gift.

“But you know what?” he adds, suddenly sounding far more cheery than he had done previously, “I’ll wear the fuck out of this and I’ll look good doing it, just to spite you.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAEL! ☆ / @ifemerel

(BONUS, for your visual convenience: you can’t see his face but here’s a pic of kael’s fc wearing a leopard onesie that’s also complete with ears and tail. it was meant to be.)

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“Don’t look so confused, I’m asking you for help”, says Kael, drily and as though his demands haven’t come entirely out of left field, “And I’m not particularly good at that--- but you look young and clueless. Not an insult. Everyone is. Was. Whatever.” Perhaps a more organised person would have avoided blurting out each and every thought moments after telling somebody not to get confused but, alas, Kael is a regular mess. You might not know from looking at him, not immediately, but there are signs --- that he’s speaking of youth as some distant and foreign thing might just be one. He is barely in his mid twenties. “Give me a hand. Learn shit. We both win.” / @lifetempted

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"How do you feel about terrible ideas?” And so he appeared wearing a Cheshire Cat grin and holding the light gait of someone who might dash off any moment. Typical. Even when he had something to say, a reason to be there, he found himself shifting from foot to foot. That sort of uncertainty would remain a Kael trademark, always. Raised eyebrows seemed to reassure that, really, he was exaggerating but there was a shine in his eyes, a devious glimmer, that also promised trouble. Were he the more touchy-feely type, he’d have thrown his arms around Tida’s shoulders. / @ifemerel

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“What, so you’ve never passed out before? Get you.”

At first, he was not aware of much at all besides the throbbing dizziness in the back of his head. The room was poorly lit and he couldn’t think straight for all the noise, the singing was dreadful and he found he was glad to be missing out on the karaoke side of things. Only bit by bit, his senses returned to him and the blurred image of his pulsing surroundings was beginning to sharpen. Kael was starting to realise his body had forced him to take a nap. On the floor. He couldn’t claim to be grateful for it but he’d slept in stranger places.

“Hey, people don’t usually notice this sort of thing. They’re  too self-absorbed”, said Kael, wistfully, reaching up to rest both hands upon Tidus’ shoulders. Really, he wasn’t drunk. Just vague and sleep-dredged enough that his natural filter, questionable though it was at the best of times, had utterly failed him. “You should become my bodyguar---” In a burst of enthusiasm, Kael sat uprigh, although did it much too quickly and much too suddenly, only to find himself colliding with Tidus. Forehead first.

continued / @leviathkand​

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"Here, hold my guitar case a sec --- careful with it --- while I kick that guy’s arse”, says Kael, already thrusting the case in question aside and slipping off his jacket, tying it around his waist in an almost certainly pointless display of bursting determination. He only takes a moment to spare an apologetic weight for the instrument. This plan, as all evidence (namely the relative size of his aggressor and the contrast it poses to Kael’s more wiry frame) would support, is a stupid, stupid idea but the adrenaline has gotten all mixed into his heating blood and he finds he doesn’t much like the idea of letting someone away with insulting them both. “Listen, for the record, I’m a pacifist but I’ve got my limits.” / @softestmood​

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"Just lean on me, I'll help you walk."

It had been a rough night, nothing unusual in and of itself. Kael was well-known for his recklessness, for his ability to attract trouble, and had stomped home many a morning bruised and torn. He didn’t know why this night had been different, he didn’t know how he’d gotten himself into something he couldn’t escape, but this was far from the first time this had happened. Ordinarily, he would have slunk off somewhere that seemed somewhat safe, most often a well-shaded spot in an alleyway, and allow himself to pass out, resting until he’d regained the energy to return to his flat where he’d continue to recuperate in bed or, if luck was not on his side, the couch or even the floor of his cramped front room. Yet, this time, Kael had run into something --- or, indeed, someone --- unexpected. A familiar face should have come as a reassurance but, for Kael who was so afraid of looking to be anything less than the cool, unaffected persona he wore like a second skin, a facade only broken for humour’s sake and when he was in full control of what parts of himself he could share. He did not mind people thinking he was a little odd, he had gotten used to that, but he needed to look strong; after all, what good was a rebel defeated? 

Is it punk to be found in the street bruised and beating and looking far too much like you want to cry?

Trembling hands clutching tight, he clung to a lamppost as if for life, uncertain eyes watching Eden as she made her offer. He wanted to insist that he could get by just fine on his own but evidence of the contrary was much too plain for that. The thought of having to cling to another body was off-putting, Kael didn’t like getting close to people. It was not that he feared the task would be much of a burden for, although she was certainly smaller than him by quite some bit, he did not weigh a lot for his height and, so long as he was conscious enough to rely on his legs to keep walking, he knew he could keep most of the support on his side. No, it was that the simple act of touch shot his nerves into overdrive and that, most of all, the thought of looking pathetic and helpless made him want to choke up his insides right then and there, onto the pavement. (Or was that just the dizziness? He didn’t want to think about it, preferring to focus on keeping the contents of his stomach inside his body.) He never did like accepting help. In Kael’s eyes, ‘help’ always took on a different and much less attractive form, a dolled-up version of pity, all glistening despite the dark with glittering wet eyes, or a deceptively friendly version of threat, bright white teeth glinting with all the innocent charm and spark of a nationally beloved television host but with the sharp ferocity of a wolf about to tear out its prey’s throat. This, he decided without a moment’s hesitation, fell into the former category. It was harmless, perhaps even innocent, but he felt belittled, like an injured stray; Oh, poor little thing, what do we do with it?

“What are you doing here?” Kael asked instead in an attempt to distract himself, to steer himself away from misjudging her intentions, “Don’t take this the wrong way because I’m not trying to say you’re weak or anything but this isn’t exactly the safest part of town.” It all came out in a sort of hurried mess, like flowing water bursting from a suddenly unstopped pipe. His breath was short and ragged and, rather than take his time (for he was not the patient type), he rushed to get every word out as quickly as possible. The confusion was Kael’s own fault and he knew he held prejudice against those of wealthy backgrounds; he did not think he should have any reason to see someone of Eden’s social standing in a place that was a breeding ground for bad decisions and worse consequences but she had proven him wrong. He had been wrong about a lot of things that night. “It’s stupid enough that I’m here”, he added, for good measure, “You should go.”

A car drove past, the glare of the headlights momentarily blinding him and throwing him into such a dizziness that, despite his previous efforts, Kael promptly threw up into the gutter, although there was hardly much to it, buckled over in discomfort and using what little strength he had to keep from falling to his knees. There was nothing about this that wasn’t humiliating. He did not raise his head to check but he would not be at all surprised if she had taken a good few steps backwards. He shook his head, the strands of dull-grey hair, faded by lack of maintenance, that weren’t clinging to his dampened forehead swaying with the movement. As if in defeat, he slid around to the other side of the lamppost and slumped to the ground, sitting with his legs pulled halfway into his chest. It struck Kael as a good time to give up but he was unwilling to take up Eden’s time or slow her down. He would find some way to thank her for offering later but, for now, he was quite certain accepting help would only cause her trouble. “I...I can just stay here.”

this is two months old...i forget what meme this was from / @gardenof

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“Did you come here just to see me play?” he asks, voice like honey, a flash of white teeth visible through a sly grin. Leaning forward, his chin rests upon the heel of his palm and the jacket draped over his frame slides from his shoulder. “Or are you just here on some stakeout?” Despite his complaints, the latter would certainly be more interesting. After all, Kael is a nosy fuck.

starter / @fatedriven | kain park

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“What are you doing?”

“Stretching.” It rolls off his tongue, all sleek and natural, his tone relaxed in a way that doesn’t quite befit someone with his leg stretched so far forward that it is very nearly flat against the ground. For Kael, stretching seems to include finding the most inconvenient possible means of doing the splits. He’s overdoing it, certainly, and stalling as long as possible before allowing the session to begin proper. There is no way he’d be able to take this much time in a real fight; once it starts, it starts. The stance itself, or at least the one he’d been vying for prior to letting the nerves get to him and he wound up pushing too far, is a throwback to his days running track as a teenager. Ideally, Kael would rather keep his nerves from taking over but this is no ordinary training session. That period of his life had only truly gifted him with one true benefit; he was a speedy fucker. “It’d be pretty shit if I sprained a muscle, right?”

Even the atmosphere reminds him of the past, the lump in his throat and the pulsing weight in his chest that demands he prove his worth. He pulls himself to his feet and brushes himself down with just a hint too much forced confidence. Only sort of one person tries this hard to look as though they know what they’re doing and that is someone who is rapidly losing faith in themselves. The sensation is like an old friend, one he’d never wanted to bump into again, but he feels as though he needs to convince Taejun that he’s something. The hostility, the bluntness, all of the pettiness he’s shown his senior so far comes from one place alone; insecurity. Blood pulses in his ears, vision swaying as he steadies himself.

“Don’t go easy on me just because I don’t look all that tough”, says Kael, his voice coming out less clear and certain than he’d been aiming for. He’d envisioned a lopsided grin too and a generally cocky demeanour but he’d let his pride slip through his fingers, tightly curled as they are. “Got it?”

that starter about shit u say to ur cat ? / @variforme

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‘ if you don’t get some sleep soon, you’ll make yourself sick. ’

“ Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. ” The response was too sharp, came too quick, and was plainly that of someone who was so eager to interrupt that they hadn’t listened in the first place — regardless of what he’d heard before, he hadn’t really heard what she’d just said. In fact, he’d just kind of guessed. He’d developed a sort of sense for these things. (Although her words did settle, finally, a few moments after he’d finished, not that the clarification prompted much more than a childish groan). Kael’s relationship with sleep was a rocky one, to put it somewhat concisely. He had a habit of staying awake far too long and, even when he wanted to sleep, he often struggled, be it deliberately unacknowledged insomnia or simple nightmares that disrupted his plans. Today’s stubbornness was the first struggle; having too much energy (and not energy he particularly knew what to do with) on hand at always meant that Kael was far too good at horribly underestimating just how exhausted he was. Besides, he was in the middle of something. Or he had been. Whether or not the lyrics he’d been scrawling down still made any coherent sense wasn’t entirely clear to him.

Arms stretched above his head and features scrunched, Kael flopped backward on the couch. It wasn’t a comfy resting place and his outfit didn’t help matters — nobody wears skinny jeans and clunky, overdecorated leather jackets for comfort — but anything remotely plush was better than the floor. A heavy sigh escaped as he stared, pointlessly, at the ceiling. Truth be told, Kael couldn’t remember how long he’d been awake, beyond knowing he’d hit the thirty hour mark, and he doubted Evelyn was aware of it beyond what she could read on his face. He didn’t like to think that his exhaustion showed but the dark circles, near-permanent eyebags and gaunt expression probably did all the talking for him. Nobody could confidently describe him as looking well-rested.  “ I think saying I’ll get sick’s an exaggeration ”, said Kael, glancing over at Evelyn from where he was lying, his fringe flopping sadly across his forehead as though it too was begging for a good night’s sleep, “ I can just wait until I pass out. It hasn’t made me sick before. ” 

That was a fib. Technically. Kael didn’t like to admit when he was unwell, ignoring the fact almost as stubbornly as he did most things. If someone weren’t there to keep Kael in one spot when he was unwell (as was most often the case), he’d insist upon going about his day, business as usual. It was sort of hypocritical; Kael wasn’t the sort to let a person do that to themselves, even if some time had passed since he’d been close enough to someone to get protective. “ I don’t get why you care anyway ”, he added, not that he was usually certain why people cared or why Evelyn had taken any sort of interest in him in the first place (and a little part of him was wondering if she regretted it, given that he was sure he must be a fairly difficult person), “ And I don’t mean that in some soppy, lonely way. I just mean that it’s me getting sick, not you. ”

sleep starters / @trivialitiiies

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❝ —- i'd buy you a drink, but something's telling me that'd be unwise of me... considering what happened last time alcohol was involved. hm, i wonder... will food suffice ? ❞

“ Suffice? You could try to make me sound a little less like a charity case on my own bloody birthday ”, huffed Kael, a deliberately fringe-disturbing gust of breath escaping (how dramatic). He was quite happy to ignore his birthday, let it go by without much consequence, and having people feel obliged to celebrate it was making it feel like more of a chore than it really was — the typical ‘if I don’t give a shit, I don’t want other people to pretend they do’ deal. That was not to discredit James’ efforts but Kael was no fool. He was certain James had far more important things going in his life than the birthday of one daft kid whose greatest impact on him was probably how much he pestered his cats. James had money, sure, but shutting Kael up on his birthday wasn’t exactly a worthy cause. “ Thanks for the offer but, today, I think I’m in the mood to shove my head down a toilet and mope. ” A pause, an eyebrow raised and a devious (read; shitty little) glint in his eye.“ Or I could promise not to go overboard. You shouldn’t judge people on one mistake, it’s very close-minded. ” (It was more than one mistake but he was ignoring that.)

@deiforme

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“ Do I look like I know what the fuck’s going on? ” A rhetorical question. He quite plainly didn’t. Not a clue. Just how long had it been since he’d stopped paying attention? Yet, although it had been his own question to begin with, it was brushed off with a shrug of the shoulders. “ This isn’t the face of a guy who’s aware. ”

s.c. / @gumpops

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“ Okay, Posh Boy, I don’t really give a shit what you have to say. ” To say he seemed impatient was an understatement and his frustration was from subtle, written across his face in curled lips and narrowed eyes. With a flick of the wrist natural to the point of deceptive carelessness, he snuffed his cigarette out against the wall. Kael was, as he always had been and no doubt always would be, terribly stubborn. He didn’t like straying from his own path much, even where trivial matters were concerned.. “ It’s nothing personal, I assure you. ”

s.c. / @heirset