why we dont get pictures of ourselves

ama 12:48 AM
because we’re poor
poor and fabulous

ardentblue 12:48 AM
Ahahahaha
And lazy

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Only a courteous question. Malik was confident the family would bubble along without him, and Mahomet shook his head, taking a sip from his drink. “You’re fine.”

Malik nodded, then set his drink on the counter.  He shrugged off his peacoat and scarf in the warmth of the house, freed to his button-down.  Two closures loose, his collarbone struck a line through his dark skin like features in sand, rolled over by the sea three waves before disappearing, framed by the stark white of his shirt on either side.  He lifted his drink to his lips and closed his eyes.  He had never heard his siblings shout and tease like this, never heard his father’s voice in full.

It was then that it became obvious that the table had silenced, a curious interruption of those happy, familiar events that all rested on Malik’s (now bared) shoulders. He opened his eyes again, seeing the siblings and Keiko all in rapt attention to him. Mahomet sipped his drink, fondly watching. It was as though he were the only other awake person in the room.

Ryou was the first one to clear his throat and turn his head. “Wow.”

“Damn, Bakura,” the eldest murmured. Not looking away. Putting his whole hand over his brother’s head. “How in hell?”

Their mother stared with open eyes and an open mouth, then open palms she set down on the counter opposite Bakura’s lover to lean in and study him. “Are you a model?” she gaped. “Is he a model?” she asked her husband (he smiled and shrugged.) Her new thoughts hit her in rapid succession. “Are you—are you an underwear model?” then to her son, “Bakura, are you dating an underwear model?” then to Malik, “Did Bakura draw you naked at school? Is that how you started dating? Was he—impressed?” she whispered.

Malik did not manage to swallow his sudden snort; he barely cupped it in his hand. His eyes danced across the room to his albino partner, freeing opportunity for Bakura to… word it his way. Under those long fingers was a smirk.