rebellious palpitations [c]

[PLUTO AJAX MOON]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 460px; background-color: #f7f7f7; padding: 8px;] [STYLE=font-family: arial black; font-size: 25px; color: 525252; letter-spacing: -5px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; line-height: 24px;]AND AS YOUR CAPTAIN, I'M READY TO DROWN[/style] [STYLE=background-color: 525252; text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 10px; color: AFD4E3; padding: 1px;]I'M GOING TO DROWN SO DEEP IN YOU I'M GOING TO DROWN SO DEEP IN YOU[/style] [STYLE=background: url(http://i818.photobucket.com/albums/zz109/Ninon1121/Icons/plutu72.png); height: 100px; width: 100px; border-bottom-right-radius: 60px; -moz-border-radius-bottomrightborder: 60px; border-bottom-left-radius: 60px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleftborder: 60px; border: 5px solid #525252; margin-top: -6px; float: left;] [/style] [STYLE=color: padding: 16px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify; color: 7D9199; background-color: EDEDED; border-bottom-right-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomrightborder: 10px; border-bottom-left-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleftborder: 10px; border-top-right-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-toprightborder: 10px; border-top-left-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-topleftborder: 10px; margin-top: 5px; margin-left: 130px; width: 300px; border-bottom: 1px dotted #D6D6D6;]✔ tag: nemo/dorian <3 ✔ notes: oh my god this sucks but it's a starter ✗ lyrics: tentacles by ghost town ✗ credits: rayah! of BTN![/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 1px; color: 79A3B5; border-bottom: 1px solid #DEDEDE; text-align: center;]THE BOAT ROCKED BACK AND FORTH UNSTEADILY...[/style] [STYLE=font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; background-color: EDEDED; text-align: justify; color: 808080; padding: 7px; border-bottom: 1px dotted #D6D6D6;] it became increasingly difficult for Pluto to concentrate on his anatomy test, which just so happened to be over Dorian’s anatomy specifically. The school desk he was sat at rocked back and forth with the movements of the boat and his pencils, one by one, jumped bow. He was beginning to get fed up with the weather, though, and the test he was taking in general. It was unbearably hot and the clouds looked more orange than white or gray like they should have. The sky gave a red hue to the atmosphere. It looked like it was going to rain, but Pluto wasn’t sure. Finally Pluto just became so frustrated with his test – even if he didn’t mind the subject (in fact he rather enjoyed it) – and the escalating climate that he angrily flipped his desk off of the deck of the boat and into the jade green waters beneath. The splash sounded like the cracking of stone and shards of the ocean cascaded over the rail. A sudden gust of wind cooled everything around him; the sky brightened and the clouds drifted away. Pluto’s hair flew all around his face. He turned his gaze from the waters just in time to see Dorian running out of the cabin of the boat. The wind was so violent, it forced his hair to hide his face, but he stretched his hand out to Pluto blindly. “We’re going to be late!” he called above the wailing wind. “I don’t want to go!” Pluto cried. He grabbed Dorian’s hand nonetheless, in hope of steering the other back into the shelter of the cabin. “Can’t we just stay here?” “No, we have to go,” Dorian insisted and started to make his way toward the railing of the deck, “We’re going to be late. Get up!” Dorian climbed onto the railing of the boat with his demand. He seemed immune to the rocking which had turned violent with the force of the wind. “You’re going to fall!” Pluto still held tightly onto the other’s hand, “It’s cold; let’s go back to the cabin,” he pleaded but to no avail. Dorian threw himself over the boat and pulled Pluto into the jade waters with him. The genie closed his eyes as he hit the water, expecting it to feel like smacking cement. When he opened them again, he was surprised to find himself completely dry and unharmed. It took him a little longer than it should have to realize that the little escapade that had just transpired was nothing more than a rather annoying dream. He was tangled in the jade sheets and left staring incomprehensibly at the mess that was a bed on the other side of the room. Gradually, the memories from the previous night trickled to the forefront of his thoughts and he realized that a very crucial thing was missing at the moment: Dorian Seo. The only warmth he felt were from the scattered sheets which covered him randomly here and there. His arms, chest, pretty much most of him was left bare, and though it wasn’t exactly cold in the dorm room, it wasn’t particularly pleasant. It was rather pathetic that he was too lazy to spark that little fire in his chest and warm himself. Pluto figured he would have been better off with some of that body heat he had undoubtedly been blessed with in the wee hours of the night – or should he have called it morning? “Dorian~?” he whined like a child but made no move to get up. Instead, he pulled the blankets of the bed over his body and buried his face in the pillow at his side. He wasn’t even sure if Dorian was in the room. What time was it? What day was it? Did he even care? No, not really. What he did care about, however, were the whereabouts of his roommate. He might as well get up and look for him. It wasn’t like he was going to get back to sleep. Not with the images of the demon from last night dancing around in his head – there was no sleeping with that, at least not the kind of sleeping he was trying to get. And that of course just made him even more curious about Dorian and just where he had ran away to. If this was a one night stand, it was a poor one considering they were roommates. Of course, Pluto never really suspected Dorian of such acts – at least not seriously. The thought did cross his mind; he really couldn’t help it. It’d be a lie if he said that it hadn’t happened on at least one other occasion, but he was sure there was more to Dorian than that. He had thought as much, at least. There was a little more than just lust in their first kiss, wasn’t it? Behind the toxic chemicals, right? Pluto was so sure last night that there was something happening besides just a tightening of jeans. Now he wasn’t so sure. Pluto huffed and threw the blankets off his body. Reluctantly he pulled himself to sit up in bed. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and hoped that moving around a little would wake him up. He stood, slowly, and stretched his arms above his head until all the right joints popped and all the tensed muscles loosened. Lazily, his eyes wandered the room. Not much had changed from last night. The stereo was turned off, as were the lights, but there was still shit over the floor. Clothes were abandoned in front of the closet and draped over lights. There was still an oily gloss on the walls and the snake-that-probably-wasn’t-a-snake was no longer visible on his arm. Pluto doubted that it still resembled an animal now, anyway. Ghost touches still lingered over his body and Pluto could still taste a mixture of beer and Dorian on his tongue. He wondered if there were any cans left in the fridge and had half the mind to check. It was never too early to drink, no matter what the clock on the night stand said. It wasn’t too early, but it wasn’t exactly late either. Just enough time had passed for Pluto to be about two hours late to classes. Dorian might have gone on without him… Would he have? Pluto pursed his lips and made his way to the bathroom. Knocking on the door, he leaned against it instead of checking to see if it was open. He wasn’t even sure if Dorian was in there. His forehead touched the cold door and he groaned. “Dorian, are you in there? Open up, will ya?” He knocked again and let his weight relax against it. “Dorian~,” he sang rather poorly, “Open up~.” [/style]

[DORIAN JEONG-HUN SEO]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#000000; border-top:10px #FFCC33 dashed; width:455px; bTable][cs=2][style=font-family:helvetica; font-size:30px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:-1px 0 #666666, 0 1px #666666, 1px 0 #666666, 0 -1px #666666; margin-top:-40px; letter-spacing:-3.0; text-align:center;]i'm lyin' here, i'm holdin' my breath[/style][style=font-family:tahoma; font-size:10px; color:#F3E5AB; padding:10px; text-align:justify;] The scent of bliss washed away quickly. It didn’t linger on his skin, but allowed itself to be devoured by the soap, unlike the taste. Dorian had brushed his teeth twice this morning, and neither time had the peppermint and baking soda erased the taste of Pluto from his tongue. Everything remained: the sweetness of his mouth despite the alcohol, the saltiness of his skin, and the bitterness beyond bitter of elsewhere, the result of malnutrition (no doubt). But Dorian didn’t mind and wouldn’t have had it any other way. He enjoyed the way the taste overwhelmed his senses with every swallow. And the way it enhanced his reimagining of the night when projected on the back of his eyelids. If only the other were more easily woken, then he could be here too, to aid in re-creation. The shower head beat hot water on Dorian in Pluto’s absence, but it wasn’t the same. Not nearly. His skin didn’t taste the same heat under the shower as it had hours earlier under Pluto’s touch, which stuck with him still. Remembrance of the touch caused his skin to sizzle and his arm to jerk from his body, into the sliding door of the shower. Dorian groaned and turned to rinse once more before exiting. When had he started comparing hot water to Pluto? Fuck, when did he start comparing anything to Pluto? The cool air kissed every inch of his skin, and suddenly he felt just as light as he had when he’d woken up each time (the first being the usual school day time and the second being after he’d fallen back asleep while trying to wake his sleeping genie when they were only a class late). The hot water on his chest during his shower had increased his heart rate, but now Dorian just was so elated that it seemed as if his heart beat had reached maximum speed and had just released suddenly, leaving him to float on some sort of high as it fell back to normality. The mirror revealed a familiar glow on his skin, but this time it felt different, it looked different. Maybe it’d stay for a while longer instead of just disappearing once his endorphins settled. Dorian admired himself for a few minutes further, succumbing to vanity and checking himself for any evidence of Pluto, before he dried and tied the towel around his waist. Nothing felt real, it was kind of surreal. Like walking on water or some other bullshit. Like dying and having to share a room with a cute genie boy. Even more surreal, dying and having to share a room with a cute genie boy that also happened to be gay. Oh, and even better, dying and having to share a room with a cute genie boy that also happened to be gay and reciprocate the same feelings. Oh, wait, that was all pretty real, wasn’t it? Dying was like a godsend: no working labor, returning to school, cute roommate, cute roommate that liked and wanted him even though he had awkward wings and stupid horns and a weird shaped nose and tiny ears, cute roommate he could make smile and laugh and blush and moan and tremble. Not to mention all the ounces of confidence and pride he earned back from achieving all of the latter. It was refreshing, like as the sun had risen he had become a new man. Finally reborn into death properly and in need of a life-cleansing cleanse, or whatever. Maybe it was an effect of over-lasting afterglow, but Dorian was suddenly very much in the mood to do what he’d only thought about doing the previous night. Dorian ran his fingers through his hair and took a long look through the mirror and a deep breath. There’s no way he’s not attached to it. They’d been through hell death and back together. From when it’d only reached to the top of his jaw to now, where it went inches below his chin. Davey Havok would be proud But there wasn’t a real need for it anymore, was there? No more reason to hide and shield himself. He faced new uglies now in Dirge, and unusual hair wouldn’t make people focus elsewhere anymore. Anticipation and anxiety swam through his blood as he held the scissors up to the light, examining them. Not the perfect pair for such an event, but they would do. Dorian took one last look, thought about leaving the bathroom to get his phone so he could get a photo to remember it all by, and raised the scissors to the tips. The tension grew in his fingers, but the relief and pleasure once he released…Snip. It was immense. Like this day just continued to get better and better, higher and higher he went. So he cut some more. And some more. And some more. But he was careful not to take too much off, stopping in the midst of cutting to comb it back, to check to make sure he still looked sexy (which he did). Dorian took a few more centimeters off before he was finally finished and blow dried it. The first knock on the door came while he was in the middle of moisturizing. The bathroom was not clean; there was chopped hair on the floor and fallen soap bottles in the shower and a still nearly naked Dorian that had jumped to his feet when he heard the familiar voice. “Fuck! Just a second!” he yelled, scrambling around the room to clean up. What did he do about his hair? He forgot about Pluto when he’d done his hair. What would Pluto think? But then he realized that you couldn’t just say something like that to someone after what they’d just done together and he stopped flailing about the bathroom and went to peek out of the door (that had been opened a crack the entire time anyway). Sure enough there was the genie, with his face incredibly closer to Dorian’s than he had imagined. Hopefully too far pressed against the door to see anything…like his new hair… Dorian cleared his throat, and leaned his head against the doorframe. “I mean, Pluto, you’re up. Yay.” That came out sounding entirely less enthusiastic and more sarcastic than he thought it would. He coughed and cleared his throat again. “What’s that on your neck?” he stuck a finger through the crack in the door and pointed. “It looks like you got bit by a wild and very sexy animal,” he flashed a grin, hoping to ease over any wrong ways this greeting could have been taken, and then proceeded to close the door in the genie's face. Once the door was closed, Dorian’s demeanor changed almost instantly. He lost his cool and began stacking things neatly, throwing things away, and messing with his hair. Should he put a towel over it? Leave it? Put a towel over it and just have it slip off? No, screw it. It was just hair. If Pluto only wanted him for his hair then…fuck that shit; that was a ridiculous idea. Dorian turned the knob slowly, and pulled the door open. “Sorry about all that,” he said softly, looking at Pluto’s cheek instead of meeting his eyes. “Good mornin’, baby.” he breathed. He leaned in for a kiss but didn’t linger. "I need pants," he said, breaking away. He moved past Pluto to the dresser, needing something other than a towel to wear. "Unless you wanted to..." he looked over his shoulder at Pluto, took in the length of him, slowly, wanting him to feel it. When Dorian met his eyes, he couldn't suppress the smirk on his lips. A little reluctant, he turned away with a wink. “Did you want to take a shower or something? Are you hungry?” He asked, opening a drawer and pulling out some boxer briefs, keeping it casual. “If you’d hurry we could make it to our fourth,” he dropped the towel and slipped into some real clothing, eyes glancing at the clock and then back at his roommate. [/style][style=font-family:helvetica; font-size:20px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:-1px 0 #666666, 0 1px #666666, 1px 0 #666666, 0 -1px #666666; letter-spacing:-3.0; text-align:center;]CAN'T WAIT FOR YOU TO LOVE ME TO DEATH[/style]

[atrb=style, background-color:#000000; bTable] [style=margin-left:10px; padding:5px; border:5px #FFCC33 dashed; width:100px; height:100px;][/style]

[atrb=style, background-color:#000000; bTable][style=font-family:verdana; font-size:10px; padding:10px; text-align:justify; color:#F3E5AB; width:300px; line-height:0.9em;] COUNT a little over one thousand three hundred. CHARACTER pluto. COMMENTARY so after you went to sleep, i found this. and yeah, wow. *weeps because no weave* woah. ilu, i'm so thankful for you. CREDIT shiki made this shit.[/style]

[PLUTO AJAX MOON]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 460px; background-color: #f7f7f7; padding: 8px;] [STYLE=font-family: arial black; font-size: 25px; color: 525252; letter-spacing: -5px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; line-height: 24px;]AND AS YOUR CAPTAIN, I'M READY TO DROWN[/style] [STYLE=background-color: 525252; text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 10px; color: AFD4E3; padding: 1px;]I'M GOING TO DROWN SO DEEP IN YOU I'M GOING TO DROWN SO DEEP IN YOU[/style] [STYLE=background: url(http://i818.photobucket.com/albums/zz109/Ninon1121/Icons/plutu72.png); height: 100px; width: 100px; border-bottom-right-radius: 60px; -moz-border-radius-bottomrightborder: 60px; border-bottom-left-radius: 60px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleftborder: 60px; border: 5px solid #525252; margin-top: -6px; float: left;] [/style] [STYLE=color: padding: 16px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify; color: 7D9199; background-color: EDEDED; border-bottom-right-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomrightborder: 10px; border-bottom-left-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleftborder: 10px; border-top-right-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-toprightborder: 10px; border-top-left-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-topleftborder: 10px; margin-top: 5px; margin-left: 130px; width: 300px; border-bottom: 1px dotted #D6D6D6;]✔ tag: nemo/dorian <3 ✔ notes: omg pluto don't be an ass ✗ lyrics: tentacles by ghost town ✗ credits: rayah! of BTN![/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 1px; color: 79A3B5; border-bottom: 1px solid #DEDEDE; text-align: center;]PLUTO HAD BEEN BENT ON THE FACT THAT HE WAS GOING TO HELL...[/style] [STYLE=font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; background-color: EDEDED; text-align: justify; color: 808080; padding: 7px; border-bottom: 1px dotted #D6D6D6;]Why, though, he had no idea. It just seemed simple enough: you live a bad life; you go to a bad place. Not to mention he gave in to each every little temptation that happened to cross his path. At one point or another, he had tasted each and every little sin – none of them quite as tasteful as Dorian was. As Dorian is. Death. Wasn’t it supposed to be a lesson? Or was it an escape? Life. That had to have been actual hell. Maybe the Christians had everything backwards? You worked your way through hell in order to achieve life. Not the other way around. Though, wouldn’t that just make the “afterlife” heaven? Was he in heaven? Maybe Dorian was an angel, not a demon. Maybe Dorian was his angel. It made sense to him; Dorian kept him from tipping too far off the edge. His addictions and problems weren’t nearly as bad as they were when he was actually “alive.” In fact, he has managed to go quite a while without a fix – the beer didn’t count. Granted, neither of them were saints. And now that he bothered to think about it, he was not feeling good in the slightest. How much had he drunk last night? His head was a little higher up in the clouds than he was used to, which perplexed him since his limbs felt like anchors. The world tipped a little to the right when he stepped left and tipped even more to the left when he moved right. Pluto did his best to ignore it. He’s operated under worst conditions, after all. He did lean a little more heavily against the door frame, though. The genie wasn’t sure if he was going to float off into space or if he’d come crashing back down to earth. Was this what limbo felt like? Or was this a hangover? It couldn’t have been a hangover. He didn’t have near enough to drink. He did have plenty of Dorian. Perhaps it was a hangover. Maybe he just needed a little bit more of the hair from the dog that bit him. If Dorian were a werewolf, that would have been priceless. The voice behind the door told Pluto two things: he was not all alone in this stupid dorm room, and that Dorian was up to something. What, though, Pluto did not know. For all he knew Dorian could have been doing a wide range of bathroom activities. Then again, he might just be doing whatever everyone had to do every once in a while. Pluto was putting too much thought into everything, and he really didn’t have enough thoughts to spare. His head was killing him. “Is it possible to be hung over off of a person?” he asked absently and squeezed his eyes shut, “I think I’m hung over. You need a warning label, babe.” The door opened and Pluto raised his head to peek inside at Dorian. A slight smile touched his lips and a single grow elevated at the sight of his demon-should-be-angel boy. The – was that sarcasm? – comment, however, quickly wiped that away. “Well, damn,” was all he managed to get in before Dorian continued on. A slender finger poked out of the crack of the door way and Pluto raised his hand to rub his neck as if that would make the mark disappear – not like Pluto wanted it to disappear. He was just thoroughly confused now. Before he managed to words coherently, the bathroom door was once again shut and Pluto was left leaning against the frame dumbstruck. What the hell had just happened? Was Dorian pleased or was he annoyed? Pluto had wasted all of his acquired thoughts on stupid philosophical hypotheses. Now he didn’t know what to think. The single thing he did know, however, was that he was bitten by quite the sexy beast last night. Maybe that was all that mattered. Pluto did not move away from the frame. He kept his weight held there. Part of it was because he simply was too lazy to move; another part was the fact that if Pluto stepped backwards to move away, he may just end up on his back. The latter was not a very tempting outcome. He had no idea what he’d do when Dorian was prepared to come out of the bathroom, though. He didn’t really have much time to think about it. The door opened, fully this time, and Pluto was met by the demon. Wait… Wait. Something is different. Hold on, Pluto, you can do this. He blinked and slowly his hand raised. Just as Dorian was leaning in for a quick kiss, Pluto was moving to touch his hair, which, of course, just led to a mess of awkward with furrowed brows, an unreciprocated kiss, and even more confusion. “Uh…” Pluto tried to say something that showed he had, in fact, evolved from his cave men kin, but it wasn’t working and Dorian was moving away. Pluto’s hand followed him and for a moment he was left pressed against the frame of the bathroom door with his arm outstretched for the retreating Dorian. “Good morning?” How long has Pluto been asleep again? Surely it wasn’t long enough for a change as big as this one. So this was what Dorian was up to? His hand fell like a dead weight from the air. With the other, he grasped onto the door frame and slowly pushed himself off of it. Oh, there went the world again. Deep breath. “Wait, stop talking for a moment, okay?” Too many sensations trying to be perceived at once. “No, I’m not hungry,” he began, trying to remember everything that was asked. “Why do we have to go to class? We’ve always missed, like, most of them anyway,” three at the least and that was not most, “Why can’t we just, I don’t know, sit and hang out or go grab some pizza or shop or something.” With what money? “Oh, I have an idea,” he said and stepped toward Dorian, “Let’s be girlie and talk about, like, I don’t know, your hair?” Probably not the best way to approach the subject, Pluto. Go you. “You cut it.” Try a little harder, baby genie, “I mean, it looks good.” It looks better. He wasn't lying, he just wasn't expecting it. “I can see your face. I like it. But why?” Why did he cut it so suddenly? [/style]

[DORIAN JEONG-HUN SEO]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#000000; border-top:10px #FFCC33 dashed; width:455px; bTable][cs=2][style=font-family:helvetica; font-size:30px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:-1px 0 #666666, 0 1px #666666, 1px 0 #666666, 0 -1px #666666; margin-top:-40px; letter-spacing:-3.0; text-align:center;]i'm lyin' here, i'm holdin' my breath[/style][style=font-family:tahoma; font-size:10px; color:#F3E5AB; padding:10px; text-align:justify;] “Pluto, baby, I’d love to hang around and go shoppin' with you and have a little fashion show, maybe a little fun in the dressing rooms," Dorian paused mid-dressing because wow did that sound so much better than sitting at a desk all day doing book work and taking notes. "But I’ve gotta learn so I can somehow get an awesome job for us to have a really big pizza and whatever else you could possibly want.” His stomach said that was a good idea, too. Which, the very idea in that overall was absolutely ridiculous for the most part. Dorian had been worn out by the night. The fact that he fell to the tantalizing body of his roommate, the warmth, when he was trying to wake him up was proof. If he hadn’t finally wanted to learn about shapes and the brain and body processes, he would have taken the genie up on his offer and dragged them both back under the covers where it was only them that mattered. They could put in a movie and stay in their own world for the rest of the day and well into the night, well into the weekend. But the thing was, Dorian kind of wanted to learn. He wanted to finish off his school week actually in school. Responsible or not, he kind of just wanted to. Even if he had plenty of time do the whole school thing now that he was dead, he just wanted to get it done with his brain as brainy as it could be. After the whole education thing here, Dorian wasn’t sure how he was supposed to live out his eternity or where he was supposed to go. The paint on the walls was starting to lose their glow and the shops and clubs were going to begin to be as fun as watching paint dry, as interesting as racing a snail. Dorian wanted, and eventually would have no schoolwork to hold him back, to explore Dirge and see if this little town was all it had to offer. He wanted to leave, to travel, but it was hard when there was really nowhere to go. Dorian unhooked his thumbs from the waistband of his briefs, satisfied with the small cracking sound it made against his abdomen. He opened his mouth to say more, but then realized that Pluto had asked him to stop talking and he hadn’t done very well to abide by the request. How many minutes would he have to wait for this alien to process? He spent his few seconds, picking up his fallen towel and clearing off a space on the dresser for him to sit. He raked a hand through his still-damp hair looked at the flooring as he hopped onto the dresser. Dorian’s eyes flicked up to Pluto’s when he mentioned his hair. He knew that the other had noticed it, had about to say something about it, or do something about it when he exited the bathroom. He’d still been just a little too anxious to actually hear what might have been said. The time was now, however. And Pluto’s tone didn’t really sound…The corners of Dorian’s lips twitched in anticipation, fighting between staying neutral and shooting into a smile. His hands clutched the edge of the dresser and his legs slowly came to a still from dangling. “Yeah, I cut it,” he said, attempting to speak with conviction, but it came out more on the hesitant side of the spectrum. He only succeeded in speaking a few milliseconds after Pluto. “I did,” Dorian repeated, legs beginning to swing shortly in every direction, toes brushing against the carpet. Brown eyes flicked to the ground again; he bit his lip. “Does it look okay?” His voice was once again soft. Not sure if it was still because of the newly-awakened Pluto or because his voice would betray him with his true anxiety and excitement if he talked any louder, or looked at the other any longer than he already did. His stomach did flips when he looked at Pluto again. This whole morning couldn’t have been anymore awkward. Dorian and Pluto had spoken at the same time again. And Dorian had to pause again to make sure that he heard him right. It looked good, he’d said. His tongue swept over his lip and he had to swallow hard to keep from asking if Pluto liked it, if he really liked it. (In retrospect, Dorian wouldn’t see the point in not asking. He didn’t have to be shy around Pluto). “You really think so? I think I cut it too short and now my horns stick out too much. Or…I dunno… You really like it?” His grip on the dresser loosened and his posture straightened a little, but comfortably so. Dorian craned his neck a little to see himself in the mirror. “I might need a hat though.” Something about it seemed bad. “I can see you, too. And damn, aren’t you finer with two eyes,” Dorian grinned at him, cheekily. “But no, really, come here so I can see you and you can see me even better.” Come closer so I can wrap my arms and my legs around you and never let go. It’d been only an hour or so since they’d been laying in bed together. But it’d been an hour to long, minutes too long, and Dorian’s skin was crawling with need, aching for Pluto’s touch. Even if it was just a few centimeters of contact. He extended his hand out to the genie, wanting to thread their fingers together at the least. He just wanted a touch to satisfy. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so affected by any other. If Pluto had been any other, Dorian is sure he would have said something shitty and childish about why he couldn’t cut his hair. But Pluto was Pluto, and this day was amazing from the time he woke up. Pluto was Pluto and Dorian was really into Pluto so he could be open. “I don’t know actually. I just, I wanted to.” That was solid reasoning. He repeated himself again because, yeah, it was solid reasoning and it was true so he should say it like it was true. “I just feel really, really, incredible. Like everything since I woke up is yellow and orange and a dream. Like it’s warm instead of frigid as fuck outside. And you’re here. And I don’t feel like any of this should be real, but it is. And I like it, and so I guess I cut my hair.” His smile was like a shrug, kind of crooked and wry. “Yeah, ‘cut my hair.” [/style][style=font-family:helvetica; font-size:20px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:-1px 0 #666666, 0 1px #666666, 1px 0 #666666, 0 -1px #666666; letter-spacing:-3.0; text-align:center;]CAN'T WAIT FOR YOU TO LOVE ME TO DEATH[/style]

[atrb=style, background-color:#000000; bTable] [style=margin-left:10px; padding:5px; border:5px #FFCC33 dashed; width:100px; height:100px;][/style]

[atrb=style, background-color:#000000; bTable][style=font-family:verdana; font-size:10px; padding:10px; text-align:justify; color:#F3E5AB; width:300px; line-height:0.9em;] COUNT nearly eleven hundred. CHARACTER pluto. COMMENTARY so this happened. and i should probably rewrite everything because i won't like it when i wake up in the morning. why did i write this? u_u but look at that cute fishie <--- so proud about cutting his own hair. CREDIT shiki made this shit.[/style]

[PLUTO AJAX MOON]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 460px; background-color: #f7f7f7; padding: 8px;] [STYLE=font-family: arial black; font-size: 25px; color: 525252; letter-spacing: -5px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; line-height: 24px;]AND AS YOUR CAPTAIN, I'M READY TO DROWN[/style] [STYLE=background-color: 525252; text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 10px; color: AFD4E3; padding: 1px;]I'M GOING TO DROWN SO DEEP IN YOU I'M GOING TO DROWN SO DEEP IN YOU[/style] [STYLE=background: url(http://i818.photobucket.com/albums/zz109/Ninon1121/Icons/plutu72.png); height: 100px; width: 100px; border-bottom-right-radius: 60px; -moz-border-radius-bottomrightborder: 60px; border-bottom-left-radius: 60px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleftborder: 60px; border: 5px solid #525252; margin-top: -6px; float: left;] [/style] [STYLE=color: padding: 16px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify; color: 7D9199; background-color: EDEDED; border-bottom-right-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomrightborder: 10px; border-bottom-left-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleftborder: 10px; border-top-right-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-toprightborder: 10px; border-top-left-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-topleftborder: 10px; margin-top: 5px; margin-left: 130px; width: 300px; border-bottom: 1px dotted #D6D6D6;]✔ tag: nemo/dorian <3 ✔ notes: im sorry this sucks so much. i kept having to rewrite it because i would write something, read further in your post, and realize that it just can't possibly happen and i hope this is okay and forgive me please ✗ lyrics: tentacles by ghost town ✗ credits: rayah! of BTN![/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 1px; color: 79A3B5; border-bottom: 1px solid #DEDEDE; text-align: center;]A FASHION SHOW. FUN IN THE DRESSING ROOMS. HOW COULD DORIAN...[/style] [STYLE=font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; background-color: EDEDED; text-align: justify; color: 808080; padding: 7px; border-bottom: 1px dotted #D6D6D6;]possibly choose school over activities like that? Pluto was more than willing to skip a day of school. Why wasn’t his roommate? It wasn’t like they would be missing too much. It was the same old lessons, the same boring classes, as any other day. The only real worry was in math, but even then, that wouldn’t be hard to catch up on. Well, not for Dorian. He was more of a mathematician than Pluto. Dorian was just better academically than Pluto in every aspect. Really, the only one that should be worried was Pluto, but he had never really been one to get up tight about his grades. Or school. “Noooo,” he whined, “Fuck school.” Despite his very adult language, he had a very childish pout on his lips. “I can be a self-employed pharmacist. We’ll be okay on money.” Hold on. Back up. Self-employed pharmacist? A drug dealer, basically. Dorian hasn’t had the best of luck with those. Maybe he was too distracted to catch on? Maybe he won’t be too upset over it? Yeah. Dorian wouldn’t mind the little joke. It was only the thing that kind of killed him. And gave him a shot at a better life as a demon-angel-boy. Oh, god, what was he even thinking about? He had asked Dorian to stop talking, but just got caught up in everything. He had to stop, close his eyes to noise. Pluto raked his fingers through his mussed up hair and pushed his bangs back from his forehead. For once, both eyes could be seen. Honestly, Pluto thought Dorian worried too much. And stirred too much. The genie had to glance away from his roommate for the moment. His constant movement was a little unsettling, which was a shame because the actions he was carrying out weren’t. In his eyes, one missed day isn’t so bad. You could always make everything up on Monday, and if you really wanted to go the extra mile, you could ask a friend if they could fill you in and then get the homework assignments. That way, it shows you actually care and no one would suspect you for skipping. Easy peasy. Relax today and tomorrow, and do the homework that was missed on Sunday. Or, if you were Pluto, Sunday night. Besides, he really wasn’t feeling school. Then again, when was he ever feeling school? Still, saying that sounded a lot better than saying he felt like he was going to drop. That way, if he could convinced Dorian to skip school, they could still go out into the town. It was a long shot, but maybe it would work. He could just chalk it up to being hung over on Dorian like he had previously joked. That all sounded about right to him. Now if only he could say it. By the time he was going to interrupt, Dorian had stopped talking. He liked the hair cut. He really did, he just wasn’t used to change overnight. He didn’t mind change, it just surprised him. And this was so quick, so sudden, and Pluto was so not ready for it, so…. Blah. He didn’t know how to react to it. When Dorian asked him if it looked okay, Pluto had to look over at him. Nothing had changed – thank god. Why was he asking him again? Did he think the genie’s opinion would change in a matter of milliseconds? All he could do, though, was nod his head and repeat himself: “It looks good. I like it. I already told you that.” His voice wasn’t harsh. Without thinking, Pluto had mimicked Dorian’s pattern and lowered his voice to a soft tone. It was easier for the ill-feeling genie to handle, and he hoped Dorian would keep it up. The constant questions were simultaneously annoying and cute. If Pluto had been in a better mood, he wouldn’t have thought the former, but Pluto actually just wanted to get back in bed sleep whatever he had off. He wouldn’t do that without Dorian, though. He didn’t want to be alone with how he was feeling. But the questions were still cute, even in this little funk. Pluto couldn’t help but to smile and suppress the tiniest of laughs. He didn’t want Dorian to think he wasn’t being serious. He was. “It’s not too short, baby,” he cooed, “I can see your face. I can see when you smile. I can see when you everything.” Because that order of words made complete sense. Pluto wasn’t going to fix it. “Why do you need a hat? For your horns? Don’t worry about your horns. You look good, you look nice. I’m being honest. I like it.” He didn’t want to move, but the offer was certainly tempting. Before he had made up his mind, he had already began to make his way towards Dorian. He was deliberately careful forging a path from where he stood to the dresser. He couldn’t move too fast, and if he fell, he wasn’t getting back up. With the weight of the world pulling at his limbs and the feeling of clouds in his mind, he would be easy to trip up, too. Fortunately, it didn’t take him too terribly long to get to the dresser. As soon as he was there, he placed one hand against the flat top. He didn’t even try to hide the fact he was leaning to heavily against it. Maybe Dorian would chalk it up to his laziness. “Can you see me better, baby?” he grinned and brought his other hand to take the demon’s hand, to thread their fingers, to pull himself closer. He didn’t know that he had broken out into a cold sweat. He let Dorian talk this time, even though he only processed a little more than half of what he was saying. Pluto busied himself. He pushed himself between Dorian’s legs. He allowed their hands to go wherever Dorian desired. With eyes closed, Pluto leaned down and buried his too cool forehead against the other’s shoulder. He just wanted to rest. To crawl back into bed. But standing here, wrapped up in Dorian, was good enough for him. “Well, I’m glad you cut your hair,” he managed to mumble, “I’m glad you feel incredible. I glad that this morning is good for you. I hope it stays good. You know, you’ll just ruin it by going to school. People are stupid there. Stay with me. We can be smart all on our own.” He was still pushing for it. [/style]

[DORIAN JEONG-HUN SEO]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#000000; border-top:10px #FFCC33 dashed; width:455px; bTable][cs=2][style=font-family:helvetica; font-size:30px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:-1px 0 #666666, 0 1px #666666, 1px 0 #666666, 0 -1px #666666; margin-top:-40px; letter-spacing:-3.0; text-align:center;]i'm lyin' here, i'm holdin' my breath[/style][style=font-family:tahoma; font-size:10px; color:#F3E5AB; padding:10px; text-align:justify;] What kind of person would turn down a lazy day like that? Slipping back under the covers with the guy you liked (because crush was a term that was long gone from Dorian’s vocabulary as he suspected Pluto already knew that he liked him in one way or another, but if he didn’t, that showcased adorable obliviousness, in any case…), skipping school and putting a pause on all the rest of the world. It sounded fantastic, to Dorian, actually. There was a time when he had let his heart and hormones rule over his head and work and etcetera, but he’d grown up (a little) since then. Brain desires conflicted with his heart’s all the time, but at this moment, his brain even had captured a bit of his heart too. He wished he could convey that to Pluto. But he figured he’d not be able to find the right words to say, and also Pluto would know that he was close to staying, which wouldn’t be good at all as the genie could find some way to trick him. He wanted to tell Pluto so many things about school. How he shouldn’t take the ability to get an education for granted. Once you no longer have the chance, you’ll miss it, you’ll regret it. Sure, it makes you the unique one of the group to say you skipped a couple of classes (you sexy, bad boy, you), got kicked out, or dropped out and didn’t even finish. But it’s also really embarrassing. To say such a thing like, “I only have a tenth grade education,” and not be in tenth grade but beyond tenth grade is more than embarrassing. Pluto was smart, he was more than smart. And he wasn’t going to end up anything like that, it wasn’t allowed to happen. They had an eternity to finish this high school shit. But Dorian would have preferred to get it over with as quickly as he could, and do it all the while passing notes and holding hands under desks. “Don’t you dare try to turn my side of the room into some sort of meth lab,” he responded quickly. The idea had been brought up before in his other living residence. “And I don’t want any of your customers in here where I can see their brains leaking onto the carpet.” Coming home to a house of stoners, people itching to get stoned, and others that twitched with a need unlike any other was something he’d kind of gotten used to. But it didn’t mean that he would welcome it again. Dorian was out of range with those people, there wasn’t a life or death or homeless (and be both) question hanging over him anymore. He didn’t have to do the same things he once did, now in Dirge. If Pluto wanted to be a “self-employed pharmacist” or whatever, he could do it in the other wing of the school where Dorian was not in radius of having his body shredded. “Besides, the only value you’d make off of somethin’ like that is, like, a cookie for every pill. Everyone knows you only get money on that pretty card by doin’ what you’re supposed to, a.k.a, going to school and doing your homework.” The whole, not talking thing had kinda been thrown out the window. But then Pluto was talking, and Dorian had stopped all talkative thought-processing, run out of things to say, because Pluto’s voice. His voice was so smooth and soft, and the things he was saying sent waves into his body and electrified his heart. Dorian bit back a smile. He would have tried to cover the flush sneaking up on his cheeks, but he couldn’t because he was too busy noting the shortness of Pluto’s sentences and the near rhythmic feel to it all. He couldn’t help but to laugh, short, staccato-ly at the genie, though. Eyebrow raised, he said, “When I everything?” Someone’s ego was suddenly being blown up. He squirmed in his seat in delight, and his wings fluttered at his back, bumping things on the dresser. His heart swelled and all he could gather through the action was Pluto, Pluto, Pluto. It seemed like all of time had slowed down. All he wanted was right before him, yet it was taking so long for him to get it. He blinked, keeping his eyes closed for an extended amount of time, as if that’d make the seconds it’d take Pluto to get to him go by any faster. Supposedly, if one sense was closed off, the others were more heightened, meaning Pluto’s touch would be even more feely for Dorian. But it didn’t come. Maybe he was losing track of time, and it really was going slower than he thought. No, Pluto was just being slow. He wanted to respond to the other by saying that no, he couldn’t see him at all, because he wasn’t looking. But then he’d heard the endearment at the end. He’d said it before, but now it was spoken out, in such a way that was louder than the rest of the sentence to Dorian’s ears. It was all he heard. They’d joked around about it since that slip in the library. He’d even had similar thoughts the previous night when things were getting more serious. But there was something different about it this time. Something that widened his eyes and made his breath catch in his throat. It was that same feeling, only a little more intense, that Dorian had gotten in 2004 when Usher was all over him, making love to his ears and calling him his boo. In that second, Dorian knew that he’d feel the same sense of jealousy, only more overwhelming, if Pluto was calling someone else baby as he did when Alicia Keys came into the song, declaring her lover for Usher and claiming the title of Usher’s everlasting boo. Dorian wanted to kiss the smile off of Pluto’s lips, but the only thing that registered to him was to tell Pluto to “Say that again.” When Pluto grasped his hand, it was like electricity, as cliché as it was, flowing through his entire body and warming him. It was like that whenever they touched. But it seemed like it had been hours since they had last had contact. Dorian didn’t even think it was Pluto’s power, it was just that sort of connection, as cheesy as that sounded. He locked his legs around Pluto’s waist, and his free hand came up to Pluto’s nape, threading through the locks of hair there. His head came to rest on the genie’s, just breathing him in. Holding the other like this was…it just felt so good. Dorian let out a contented sigh and tried not to laugh outright at Pluto and his determination. He was so cute. “My day wouldn’t be ruined if you were there beside me,” he murmured, his fingers detangling from Pluto’s hair and skimming down his neck, down his spine. He wanted to point out the fact that they were such geniuses, and point out all the things they’d done together that had gone terribly wrong. But it was then that he noticed the thin coating of sweat that Pluto was wearing, and the coolness of it all. It was slightly cold in here, but was it cold enough to sweat? Clouded by the emotional warmth he felt, Dorian failed to realize the one thing that had been missing, but was present in nearly every other encounter they’d had together: body heat. He pulled back from Pluto, left arm falling back to his side, but hands still intertwined. “You’re not hot,” he said, pointedly biting his lip in a pout of utter confusion. “Why aren’t you hot? I want you to be hot.” After he said it, of course, he realized how it sounded, like he was just using the genie for his heat, which he wasn’t. But he didn’t know what to say to clear it up, and not be classified as a certified chatterer. [/style][style=font-family:helvetica; font-size:20px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:-1px 0 #666666, 0 1px #666666, 1px 0 #666666, 0 -1px #666666; letter-spacing:-3.0; text-align:center;]CAN'T WAIT FOR YOU TO LOVE ME TO DEATH[/style]

[atrb=style, background-color:#000000; bTable] [style=margin-left:10px; padding:5px; border:5px #FFCC33 dashed; width:100px; height:100px;][/style]

[atrb=style, background-color:#000000; bTable][style=font-family:verdana; font-size:10px; padding:10px; text-align:justify; color:#F3E5AB; width:300px; line-height:0.9em;] COUNT one thousand three-hundred forty eight. CHARACTER pluto. COMMENTARY "it's [your post] good. i like it. i already told you that." in the words of pluto. CREDIT shiki made this shit.[/style]

[PLUTO AJAX MOON]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 460px; background-color: #f7f7f7; padding: 8px;] [STYLE=font-family: arial black; font-size: 25px; color: 525252; letter-spacing: -5px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; line-height: 24px;]AND AS YOUR CAPTAIN, I'M READY TO DROWN[/style] [STYLE=background-color: 525252; text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 10px; color: AFD4E3; padding: 1px;]I'M GOING TO DROWN SO DEEP IN YOU I'M GOING TO DROWN SO DEEP IN YOU[/style] [STYLE=background: url(http://i818.photobucket.com/albums/zz109/Ninon1121/Icons/plutu72.png); height: 100px; width: 100px; border-bottom-right-radius: 60px; -moz-border-radius-bottomrightborder: 60px; border-bottom-left-radius: 60px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleftborder: 60px; border: 5px solid #525252; margin-top: -6px; float: left;] [/style] [STYLE=color: padding: 16px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify; color: 7D9199; background-color: EDEDED; border-bottom-right-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomrightborder: 10px; border-bottom-left-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleftborder: 10px; border-top-right-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-toprightborder: 10px; border-top-left-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-topleftborder: 10px; margin-top: 5px; margin-left: 130px; width: 300px; border-bottom: 1px dotted #D6D6D6;]✔ tag: nemo/dorian <3 ✔ notes: so this is only two months late and just... yeah. i love you, i'm sorry ;o; ✗ lyrics: tentacles by ghost town ✗ credits: rayah! of BTN![/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 1px; color: 79A3B5; border-bottom: 1px solid #DEDEDE; text-align: center;]PLUTO WISHED HE COULD EXPLAIN HOW SCHOOL WAS AN ANXIOUS MESS...[/style] [STYLE=font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; background-color: EDEDED; text-align: justify; color: 808080; padding: 7px; border-bottom: 1px dotted #D6D6D6;]of a place that he was not feeling up to putting himself through. It wasn’t that he took an education for granted; he liked to learn. Honestly, he did. But he was only willing to learn what he wanted to learn, which discounted a few of the classes Pluto was forced to sit through. He wasn’t a bad student. He did his work – most of the time – and he listened and participated in class when he was interested in the subject at hand. Math held a hateful passion. He understood the theories and the laws, but they never seemed to work for him. Ironically, physics was easier for him. Perhaps because he could apply it to the outside world with relative ease. Sciences held a little bit of his attention, but it was linguistics that he particularly liked. They held the power of the world. They could make a relationship and destroy a man. They could build a nation and provoke a genocide. They could control and manipulate. They also held the ability to disarm and befriend. Words could do anything and everything. You just had to set your mind to it. Pluto, despite popular belief, was not opposed to school. He was opposed to the people within the school and the structure of the system itself. He was opposed to the mandatory sentence, and the close quarters he had to share with peers that, while he held nothing against them, he feared. School, to him, was a negative connotation packed with anxiety and unnecessary worries. He just never vocalized this matter to anyone, finding it much easier to claim he detested school without much of an explanation as to why. The fact that he was perceived as lazy – he kind of was – offered enough explanation. It wasn’t that he didn’t try, it was just that he didn’t want to put effort into something he found trivial and unfair. Self-studying seemed much more like his thing, but he didn’t have the choice to or the idea on how to start. It seemed, though, that Dorian didn’t take too nicely to his joke about being a self-employed pharmacist. It didn’t matter too much. Pluto was not serious about it. He might have had the marketing skills to sell beautiful things, but he did not have the following to sell to or the control to resist such sweet temptations. The only response Dorian received to the rapid response was an amused grunt, and that was only when he mentioned that the only thing Pluto could possibly make was a cookie for a pill. Instead of focusing on the drug deal, he lunged (or stammered for an intellectual reply) when the idea of going to school circled back around. He never actually managed to respond. He didn’t want to continue that conversation if it might lead to a fight – and with how Pluto was feeling and his minor tendency for mood swings, irritability was a possibility. He didn’t want to get so worked up over a little thing. When the demon had demanded for the genie to say that again, his first response was, “Say what again?” It clicked slowly and a knowing smirk twisted one corner of Pluto’s mouth up. Language was a beautiful thing. “Say what? That you’re my baby?” he inquired teasingly. It wasn’t the first time Pluto had let the little endearment slip, but it was the first time Dorian had reacted in such a way to it. It made him feel a little nervous, a little excited. This was real. This had not just been a one-time thing. This had the potential to be something, it seemed, and Pluto was anxious to see just what that something was. Comfort enveloped him as Dorian did. The fingers in his hair coaxed a content little sigh to part his lips, and when they began to traverse down the prominent ridges of his spine, a gentle shiver trailed after the digits. There was no warmth in the genie for the time being. Dorian was supplying it all, and it felt wonderful. He couldn’t blame the other for wanting this all the time. But Pluto couldn’t recall the last time he had been held when he was feeling ill. He couldn’t think of a time he had ever been held when he was feeling ill, actually, and this fact just made a skinny arm snake around the waist of his roommate and pull him closer. His features faded into a dull frown, but he kept that hidden in the shoulder and clavicle of his angelic demon. His other hand remained in Dorian’s. “I think I’m plenty hot for just getting out of bed,” he retorted cheekily, “Are you sure your eyes work?” It was just a little tease. He knew what Dorian had meant, he was just prolonging the moment before he let that little fire within him spark. He wanted to feel Dorian’s warmth more than anything. He was freezing, and he wasn’t used to this feeling. The shiver that had accompanied the stroke of fingers hadn’t seem to leave him, and now spasms of trembles raked his body every few moments. “Are you cold?” he asked after a moment and nuzzled his face against Dorian’s neck, “Because you feel hot. I don’t want you to overheat.” Was he hot? Or was Pluto just cold in comparison? “But if you really want it,” he murmured quietly, letting the sentence hang there for Dorian to finish. He was not feeling up to it. He wasn’t really feeling up to much this morning. That was obvious, though. [/style]

[DORIAN JEONG-HUN SEO]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#000000; border-top:10px #FFCC33 dashed; width:455px; bTable][cs=2][style=font-family:helvetica; font-size:30px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:-1px 0 #666666, 0 1px #666666, 1px 0 #666666, 0 -1px #666666; margin-top:-40px; letter-spacing:-3.0; text-align:center;]i'm lyin' here, i'm holdin' my breath[/style][style=font-family:tahoma; font-size:10px; color:#F3E5AB; padding:10px; text-align:justify;] Dorian responded to Pluto in a similar fashion, a softer grunt and a small thump as he rested his head against the wall. Had death turned them into old men already, conversing through grunts and head gestures? If there was anything else Dorian had thought to say on such matters, the words had already fled. His energy had diminished with the debate of drugs and school. His mouth ran dry as he looked on at Pluto, dark hair and eyes and pale skin that bore Dorian's mark. A sigh seeped through Dorian's smiling lips as he gazed at the genie, and Dorian rarely was not looking at the genie. His legs opened farther as if trying to fill the space of the room that was left feeling void just as their conversation. There were so many possibilities for the events of the morning. Both good and bad. However, the "bad" was usually only coupled with things of a not-so terrible nature like nearly being late for classes, not waking up, and "bastard, I need the bathroom!" There was silence too, but not normally the result of a disagreement, as this one was. Into the dawn, behind closed eyelids and soft snores, Dorian had dreamed of the morning that would have (and should have) come. There was silence, yes, but only because the breakfast was too delicious to pause for chatter. There was both a sweetness and a bitterness to the taste of the other's mouth. A certain unique flavor that Dorian would have spent the entire morning trying to figure out with his tongue, rather than dig through his closet of shoes in search of what looked nice with the his bracelets (or whatever). But one of his dreams had come true last night; the dream god probably needed to refuel. (It seemed like living with a genie did nothing to speed up this process) But this morning had turned out bitter and sweet in its own way (which was also turning out to be unique). Dorian didn't mind either way, as long as the flutter remained in his stomach and his wings. With Pluto, the feeling still had yet to fade. Especially if the other kept pulling out those all-knowing smirks like some kind of wild card that never failed to turn Dorian's stomach to knots. There were so many little things that Pluto did, that caused Dorian's heart to tremble and insides to squirm. When combined, Dorian's blood burned through his veins and his heart threatened to explode. Baby. Something in the back of his mind told him that he couldn't act so childish about such a thing. He'd had petnames and endearments given to him before. It wasn't anything new to him. They just didn't last. It had been a while since he had been anyone's baby, anyone's anything. His legs tightened around Pluto as his hands continued to dance across skin. He hummed in response. He had been his mother's world, her baby, spoiled and doted on in the way that mother's did to their only, and first-born sons. Filled with love and praise for all his life. It was pride in his father's eyes: all the "Yes, my son..."s and "That's my little boy!"s. The way his mother's friends always complimented him, wished him to be their son instead, and the way his mother always seemed to put a claim on him. "My baby has grown up handsomely, hasn't he?" When he'd hastily slide in a word about "not being a baby anymore" to save face in front of her friends, salvaging his teenage pride, she'd respond, "But you'll always be my baby, Dorian. Forever." As if he could do no wrong. Forever came and left quickly, its exit like a slap to the face, leaving a long-lasting sting that brought hot tears to his eyes. A pit opened in his stomach and a piece of his heart sank into it. Before it hit the bottom, Pluto had reached out and saved this shard of his heart before it could shatter. It fluttered on its own, in its own forever, a new infinity. Dorian squeezed Pluto's hand. He gently rested his head on the others, letting out a contented sigh into the other's dark hair. His mouth opened, but closed again a few seconds later without a word being spoken, as if sound would ruin the moment. It was ironic how Pluto had wanted him to shut up only minutes prior, and now the roles were reversed. Coolness enveloped him, or it had already been there and he had just been distracted. He was without clothes after all. But when he pulled away from Pluto, his arm was slightly sticky. His nose crinkled in distaste, but the expression quickly vanished. Yes, he was cold (apart from that area of his neck that still felt electric from Pluto's touch). It did feel a little nippy in the room. The hairs on his arms had begun to stand up. But instead of answering, he voiced his thoughts from earlier. “Am I yours?” he tentatively asked. Gaining more voice, he continued, “'Cause I wanna be.” he untangled their hands and shifted so he could gauge a better reaction from Pluto. Dorian felt the blood creeping up his neck, the flush, and felt the tingles of an anxious sweat. After another brief pause, he took Pluto's hand again. It felt right. They felt right. It was too wrong to be apart. “I really want you. I really want for you to be mine." [/style][style=font-family:helvetica; font-size:20px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:-1px 0 #666666, 0 1px #666666, 1px 0 #666666, 0 -1px #666666; letter-spacing:-3.0; text-align:center;]CAN'T WAIT FOR YOU TO LOVE ME TO DEATH[/style]

[atrb=style, background-color:#000000; bTable] [style=margin-left:10px; padding:5px; border:5px #FFCC33 dashed; width:100px; height:100px;][/style]

[atrb=style, background-color:#000000; bTable][style=font-family:verdana; font-size:10px; padding:10px; text-align:justify; color:#F3E5AB; width:300px; line-height:0.9em;] COUNT nine hundred twenty-four. CHARACTER pluto. COMMENTARY nothing to say. CREDIT shiki made this shit.[/style]

[PLUTO AJAX MOON]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 460px; background-color: #f7f7f7; padding: 8px;] [STYLE=font-family: arial black; font-size: 25px; color: 525252; letter-spacing: -5px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; line-height: 24px;]AND AS YOUR CAPTAIN, I'M READY TO DROWN[/style] [STYLE=background-color: 525252; text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 10px; color: AFD4E3; padding: 1px;]I'M GOING TO DROWN SO DEEP IN YOU I'M GOING TO DROWN SO DEEP IN YOU[/style] [STYLE=background: url(http://i818.photobucket.com/albums/zz109/Ninon1121/Icons/plutu72.png); height: 100px; width: 100px; border-bottom-right-radius: 60px; -moz-border-radius-bottomrightborder: 60px; border-bottom-left-radius: 60px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleftborder: 60px; border: 5px solid #525252; margin-top: -6px; float: left;] [/style] [STYLE=color: padding: 16px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify; color: 7D9199; background-color: EDEDED; border-bottom-right-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomrightborder: 10px; border-bottom-left-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleftborder: 10px; border-top-right-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-toprightborder: 10px; border-top-left-radius: 10px; -moz-border-radius-topleftborder: 10px; margin-top: 5px; margin-left: 130px; width: 300px; border-bottom: 1px dotted #D6D6D6;]✔ tag: nemo/dorian <3 ✔ notes: kind of short, but i thought it was a good time to throw this in there ✗ lyrics: tentacles by ghost town ✗ credits: rayah! of BTN![/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 1px; color: 79A3B5; border-bottom: 1px solid #DEDEDE; text-align: center;]THE MORNING CERTAINLY WASN'T GOING ON AS PLUTO HAD PLANNED,[/style] [STYLE=font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; background-color: EDEDED; text-align: justify; color: 808080; padding: 7px; border-bottom: 1px dotted #D6D6D6;]but that was the general layout of the genie’s mornings. They never really went as Pluto planned them, and one would think he would expect something like this by now, but the idea had failed to cross his mind. So of course there was no staying in bed, there was no morning kissing, no morning touching, no morning feeling. There was a Dorian, however, and that was better than nothing. He had to admit that, illness aside, the morning was going a lot better than he would have expected. There were no real awkward moments – none that he could detect – and so far he had managed to keep Dorian from leaving their dorm room and dragging Pluto along with him. The bed, however, was too far away, but that was okay. Dorian was right here, and he was enveloped in the demon’s arms. This morning could have gone a lot worse, and he was okay with how it was turning out so far. Now, if only he could lure Dorian into bed again for a much needed nap… It was a tempting thought. If he wanted he could just fall asleep right here, standing upright and leaning against Dorian. That would leave his lover boy trapped and he would have no choice but to sit there and hold the sleeping, sickly genie. It sounded like the most ingenious scheme that he had ever come up with in regards to coaxing the demon to do his bidding. Pluto wondered, though… would his legs slip out from under him if he managed to fall asleep? He knew that the moment he started to fall, his mind would jolt him awake if he did. But maybe if he leaned just right against his demon boy, his personal pillow for the day, he would be able to remain as he was. If horses could sleep standing up, so could he. He was almost tempted to try it – nearly everything was perfect. Dorian was warm, with his head nestled against his own, and even with the horns, there was no discomfort with this boy, this magical boy who put up with so much of Pluto’s shit. The discomfort was in the position, half bent over and standing. It made it nearly impossible to fall asleep. And his legs felt weak, anyway. Dorian tended to have that effect on him. “I’m just going to…” The unfinished statement was followed by a slight and wobbly tug as he pulled away from his demon. Pluto untangled himself from what he wanted most so he could lower himself to the ground with a soft grunt. When he was kneeling, albeit a little awkwardly, between the demons legs, he wrapped his arm back around Dorian’s hips, hid his cool face against his bare stomach without even turning his pale face up to the other, and let Dorian do with him what he wanted. The position was still slightly uncomfortable; it was taxing on his knees, but his trembling subsided a little. Dorian was still so much warmer than he was, but Pluto was more than okay with that. He knew the heat would be consumed by his own in a short moment, and wanted to hold onto it as long as he could. He felt light – as if he were floating and Dorian was the only thing keeping him glued to this earth. A ball of… something… twisted his insides into an unpleasant feeling. Something was not right. Something was definitely not right, but Pluto said nothing. He had been sick before, and he had had no one to hold him when he was. But now he had Dorian, and he was here, so obviously he would be okay. He was sure of it. It only became alarming when he heard Dorian’s voice, but could no longer distinguish one word from another, could no longer place the semantics of the morphemes. He wasn’t even moving, but it felt as if he were tumbling out of the sky and he just gripped Dorian all the tighter in his arms because he wanted it to stop. He wanted to tell Dorian to make it stop, to help him, but the only thing that parted his lips was an unintelligible noise. And suddenly he was trying to think of everything he had taken in the past six hours. There was those beers he had, but that was last night. That was a while ago, and this wasn’t alcohol poisoning. The only other thing he had taken was an upper, but that was a day, maybe two or three, ago. He could only come up with a blank list. He had taken nothing. He had been sleeping. So this couldn’t be an overdose. Pluto tried to pull away from Dorian as panic set in. He tried to look up at Dorian, but when he opened his eyes and all he saw was black. [/style]

[DORIAN JEONG-HUN SEO]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#000000; border-top:10px #FFCC33 dashed; width:455px; bTable][cs=2][style=font-family:helvetica; font-size:30px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:-1px 0 #666666, 0 1px #666666, 1px 0 #666666, 0 -1px #666666; margin-top:-40px; letter-spacing:-3.0; text-align:center;]i'm lyin' here, i'm holdin' my breath[/style][style=font-family:tahoma; font-size:10px; color:#F3E5AB; padding:10px; text-align:justify;] Like he had been pumped full of sugar, his heart beat erratically in his chest. This was easily one of the more stressful situations in his life, his new afterlife. Dorian had thought the previous night had been hard, walking into the dorm room under the guise of “having a party”. As if Pluto hadn’t seen right through that. Two was no number for a party. Even the two best partiers in the world couldn’t make that a party. But three was a crowd, in this case, and Dorian had been too high off of all the sugar he’d had at the mall to care what Pluto had thought. Dorian had never thought he could be more nervous than he had been, standing outside the door, staring at and fiddling with the keys, heart in his throat. As if Pluto would say no and to leave him alone, or they wouldn’t somehow want the same things. Dorian supposed that’s why he picked up the beer, to calm himself down when he got too anxious and he could feel his body giving it all away: too many blinks, his quivering hands, his damned wings, and his horrid lip-biting habit. Dorian didn’t even like beer. He liked the fruity drinks he got for discount at the club. But those didn’t come in six-packs, left unattended at the mall. Beer was harder than those drinks, which meant it would work faster at masking what Dorian hadn’t wanted Pluto to feel than other preferred drinks. His heart was the least of his worries now. All that mattered was Pluto saying one of two words. Yes or no. Yes or No. Yes, I want to be your boyfriend and I want you to be mine. No, I don’t want to be your boyfriend. No, I don’t want to be your boyfriend, but we can still do things like we did last night, yeah? No, I don’t want to be your boyfriend, we can still be friends. I liked just being friends. No, I don’t want to be your boyfriend, that’d be awkward if we… No, I don’t want to be your boyfriend, well, this is awkward. No, I don’t want to be your boyfriend; you should probably move out, find a new room or something. It didn’t take a math genius to figure out that the probability was not to Dorian’s benefit. There were a million more ways to say no than to say yes. It’s not that Dorian would mind the whole “friends with benefits” thing. Pluto wasn’t bad. However, Dorian was not going down that road any further. Statistically speaking, if you want to get mathematical again (which I know you don’t, but for the sake of this, you do), the result of a friends with benefits relationship is generally bad. They say it’s “no strings attached” but someone always has to attach their string, fall for the other, break the rules. It’s a terrible fate that sours a relationship. Unless you’re Justin Timberlake, living in a movie magical universe, and somehow get Mila Kunis (in Dorian’s mind it was Milo) in the end. Dorian just didn’t have the courage or the resources to plan a flash mob to gain Pluto’s love if things went south. And things were heading south pretty rapidly. He should have taken notice of Pluto’s unresponsiveness. Dorian was too cornered in his own mind, his own game of yes and no, to take much notice of anything. Too focused on Pluto’s voice and answer, Dorian didn’t begin to notice the genie slipping away from him until it was too late. He felt nails biting his hips and then his thighs, a feeling he’d gotten acquainted with only recently. But something wasn’t right this time, and when he finally looked down to notice, the pressure was already at the back of his calves and he was being pulled from the dresser. Dorian landed on his feet, the sting that came with standing wrong setting fire to his foot. He stumbled. “Pluto!” he cried, because, like, fuck, he just realized. Dorian repeated his name as he crouched over the genie’s fallen form. “Shit, man, I’m being serious,” said Dorian, reaching out to touch his cold cheek. Dorian didn’t take Pluto for the overtly humorous type, and if playing dead was any correlation, Pluto wasn’t that funny. That joke became overkill fast. Pluto was still breathing, he wasn’t dead. Well, no one had died a second time in Dirge, but someone always had to be a first. Dorian called out to him again. When there was yet again, no response, not a bat of an eyelash or a twitch, he lifted one of Pluto’s arms. Figured it safe that way, rather than shaking him or messing with his head. It felt as heavy as a dead body, dead weight. Dorian cursed, straightened out and went to fetch a pillow. “Pluto, you better not be messing around, or I swear…” Dorian swore again, with more aggression, and hurried back to his genie. Dorian hovered above him for a moment. It wasn’t right. This shouldn’t have been happening. Why was it happening? Why was it happening right then? Dorian didn’t know much of anything about losing consciousness or fainting or passing out or whatever. Why couldn’t it have happened during a class or something, filled with many other bodies that were controlled by brains that actually knew what to do with fainting people? He supposed rather than let Pluto stay conked out flat on the floor, his head should be elevated. Dorian went to raise the genie’s head and stuff the pillow under it, when he realized a few other things. “What if you have a fucking head injury? Or brain damage, huh?” Dorian’s heart dropped into his stomach and his stomach fell some place that felt like a bottomless pit. Dorian collapsed to the ground, brought his legs forward in the pretzel style. What the hell was he supposed to do now? How long before Pluto would wake up? Usually people called 911 when stuff like this happened. But it was Dirge, everyone was dead and without a chance of dying or getting sick again. There was no need for an emergency, or ambulances and sirens. There was the infirmary, stocked full of bandages and stitches and sewing needles. None of those helped Pluto and the situation. Judging by the age of the majority in Dirge, there weren’t any qualified nurses. Everyone else was in a class. Pluto was shit out of luck with Dorian as his nurse. Dorian just sat there for a moment, reached out and touched his hand, rubbing circles around the spot between Pluto’s index and thumb. It was supposed to be a point to make a person calm. It wasn’t helping Dorian. He didn’t look at Pluto, he couldn’t. It was too weird. Like the genie was too still, like he was sleeping. Only Dorian knew he wasn’t sleeping. The silence was weird. It wasn’t awkward, but just terribly uncomfortable. He felt as though he should talk, but Pluto wasn’t a coma patient. For a time, Dorian was out of words. He stood to turn on some music, repeating whatever was playing the night before. He grabbed his phone before he took a seat back to Pluto’s unconscious body. Google tended to have all the answers. Scrolling through results and clinic pages, Dorian lifted Pluto’s legs, and propped them on the dresser. Feeling like quite the medic as he did so, Dorian laid his head on Pluto’s chest, listening to his heart. It would have been nice and calming, had Pluto been alert. He stayed in that position for a while longer. “Why’d you have to go and pass out, you dumb genie? If you didn’t want to date me, you should've just said.” He lifted his head, then, breaths away from Pluto, searching the genie’s face for any sign of acknowledgement. Heart still in his stomach, the demon pulled away from his genie, pushed himself back against the dresser and just sat there, nervously fiddling with his phone and anything else in reach, like he’d done with his keys and shopping bags the night before, waiting. [/style][style=font-family:helvetica; font-size:20px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:-1px 0 #666666, 0 1px #666666, 1px 0 #666666, 0 -1px #666666; letter-spacing:-3.0; text-align:center;]CAN'T WAIT FOR YOU TO LOVE ME TO DEATH[/style]

[atrb=style, background-color:#000000; bTable] [style=margin-left:10px; padding:5px; border:5px #FFCC33 dashed; width:100px; height:100px;][/style]

[atrb=style, background-color:#000000; bTable][style=font-family:verdana; font-size:10px; padding:10px; text-align:justify; color:#F3E5AB; width:300px; line-height:0.9em;] COUNT one thousand three-hundred seventy. CHARACTER pluto. COMMENTARY this is so not emotional, as it should be. i'm just emotionless. u_u although, i cried for like twenty minutes and had to stop writing. and then i got distracted. but this video got me back on track. look at him with his fat cheeks and floppy hair and baggy clothes and babiness so cute and other stuff. butsoanyway that's why it's all weird shifty in the middle. longer than expected too. o.e way longer. CREDIT shiki made this shit.[/style]