I just want to wear white dresses every day for the rest of the summer I want to throw away all my dark clothes and be a creature of linen and lace and ribbons

We have a mermaid AU

I am going out to buy the mermaid book

This weekend I drafted an 1820’s gown pattern and watercolored and killed a wasp

I have eaten a grand total of 1200 calories in two days

Lobsters are yummy

I am a mermaid

Malik was soggy and miserable in the dark clothes; Ryou would often tell him that no matter what, they couldn’t hide how tall or angry he was or how much out of place he seemed, but it kept their privacy. In the gloomy uniform of other train riders going hundreds of miles into nowhere, they could hold hands while Malik looked out the window at onrushing trees, and no one said anything. Footsteps passed and the leafy shadows rolled over their legs, steaming Ryou’s sneakers dry. The chatter of people around them lulled into a hum, indistinct from ants or flies.

“She doesn’t trust me to leave alone,” Malik muttered, and Ryou returned, blinking slowly into gray light. “As though I’ll get lost.”

Silver hair fell down over his shoulder, with Ryou’s heavy eyes drifting down to the too-pale patch of wrist. Exposed, from the sale of Malik’s wrist plates two days before; for their independent travel, and bed in the sleep car that could fit two people. He yawned, “Will you?” before closing his eyes again. Smiling, knowing that is was cruel. “And does it matter if she trusts you?”

Malik was silent. He squeezed Ryou’s hand instead.

When Bakura runs screaming down the aisle, on a dare but mostly on a whim, Malik follows at a steady pace. As a solid poltergeist he does maximum damage to everything around him: boxes of cereal spilling, cans of beans dented as they fall to the floor, and Bakura’s footfalls, thunderously kicking down displays. Lungs filling to bursting, he stands at the end of the shelves and throws his hair back in a scream of joy that’s lost in the vacuum, but not quickly. Like so much of his touch, Bakura leaves a stain in the air that echoes for longer than anyone else could tolerate.

When it ends, he only continues, laughing, touching everything: touching Malik when he comes within range of his hands, touching his face and his eyes and the slick gums under his lip.

“I missed this,” Bakura tells him, hoarse, and it’s the mess or life or the means to make a mess of life itself. Malik doesn’t know.

“I missed you,” he says.

▷ birthday list

I don’t really expect anyone to do this, but I love making these anyway c: My birthday is June 4th! However, if you did want to get me something, and wanted to keep it as a surprise, then please send an ask to tumblr user yadonushisama for the details :)

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