#humbled every day by my stupid fucking hair growth

[talkingheadsfan]

yuppp it’s a rainy spring day in april 👍

[gayestnerdsinfiction]

Isaac and the Angel - Chapter 16

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“Is this… it?”

Israfil pulls his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose, wincing slightly at the bright afternoon sunlight. He still has a splitting headache from the night before. Raphael must have figured out how to hide the other angels from his second sight. Nothing like that has ever happened to him before. He is, decidedly, not a fan of the whole experience.

He peers up at the faded, peeling sign plastered above the doorway: Madame Cassandra – Fortune Teller – Inquire Within. A cartoon rendering of a crystal ball decorates one of the small windows.

“This is it,” he says.

Isaac wrinkles his nose, attempting to peek through the heavy, velvet curtains obscuring each of the windows. “It looks kind of shady,” he says after a few moments.

“Yes. It does.” Israfil frowns. The shop does look a bit dingier since the last time he was here. Smaller, too. Granted, he hasn’t visited in quite some time. Things do have a tendency to change, after all.

He reaches for the doorknob, but before he even has it in his grasp the front door swings open, revealing none other than Madame Cassandra. She is draped in a brightly colored cardigan and adorned with gold rings and bangles and necklaces. Her hair is twisted up into a messy, frizzy bun. Her hazel eyes are steely, if a bit bloodshot. “Israfil,” she says curtly.

Israfil blinks, admittedly a bit startled by her entrance. “Cass. Hi. Um, how’ve you b—”

“You smell like shit,” Cassandra interrupts with a grimace. “Like… rotting fruit or something. How far gone are you?”

His heart sinks. He didn’t realize how painfully obvious it would be to her. “My horns haven’t come in yet,” he half jokes, “so not quite far enough, I’m afraid.”

She purses her lips, craning her neck to look past Israfil at Isaac. “Is that the young fellow everyone’s talking about?” she asks, wagging her finger at him.

Warmth rises into Israfil’s face. “Not everyone, I hope.”

Cassandra gives him one of her patented knowing looks. “Everyone,” she repeats.

“People are talking about me?” Isaac asks, glancing nervously between Israfil and Cassandra.

“Darling, you wish it was only people who were talking about you,” she says pointedly. She turns briskly, her jewelry clanking and jangling as she waves a manicured hand to beckon the pair into her shop.

Israfil follows close behind her, surreptitiously taking note of everything that is different from what he remembers. He notices a dim lamp covered with a stained lampshade. The rugs, once vibrant and lush, are now threadbare. The bookshelves are nearly empty, most of their contents strewn about the floor or stacked on various tables and desks. All of the curtains are laden with dust.

“Quaint,” Israfil remarks, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his pocket.

Cassandra scowls. “Business hasn’t exactly been booming,” she says dryly. “And since Michael stopped coming around…” She trails off, sitting down in a cushioned chair beside a round, wooden table. A deck of cards, a pale pink crystal ball, and a gilded box are placed atop the table. “Well, you know. It’s not like I have anyone else banging down my door and offering to buy me nice things.”

It occurs to him that she probably hasn’t seen Michael since the war, at least not in person. “When was the last time you talked to him?” he asks carefully. He sits down in a seat across from her. Folds his hands in his lap.

“We keep in touch,” she says. “But he’s too much of a coward and a kiss-ass to come see me face to face.”

Israfil grimaces. “God really cracked down on everybody after the war,” he admits. “We’re not really, er, allowed to have fortune telling human girlfriends.” He clears his throat quietly. “I’m sure it’s nothing personal.”

“Yeah. Sure.” She opens the box of cards, shuffling them absently. “Give him my best, if you run into him.”

“I doubt I’ll be seeing him for a while.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” she murmurs. “Tell your little friend not to skulk around back there. He looks like a scared cat.”

Israfil turns to look at Isaac who, to be fair, does look very nervous and uncannily catlike. He’s been keeping close to the entrance since they entered the building, as if prepared to run out at a moment’s notice. “Come sit down,” he says softly, tilting his head to indicate the chair beside him.

Isaac takes the seat, albeit warily. “I wasn’t skulking,” he grumbles.

Cassandra chuckles. “Shall I read him first?” The question is directed at Israfil, but her eyes are fixed on Isaac.

He shakes his head. “I don’t really believe in fortune telling.”

“Neither does Israfil, but he’s still here in my humble little shop itching to get his cards read.” She grins, dark purple lips pulling back to reveal a mouth full of pristine, white teeth. “Just do it for fun,” she coaxes. “I guarantee you’ll be glad you did.”

Isaac and Israfil exchange a look. Israfil shrugs. “You came all this way. Might as well hear your fortune.”

Isaac scoffs, muttering, “This is so stupid.” But he doesn’t protest as Cassandra spreads the cards out on the table in a sweeping arc.

Israfil toys with the edge of the tablecloth, running his fingers over the silver stars and moons embroidered on the dark silk. If he looks at them just right, the designs almost seem to twinkle and flicker. “Did Michael give you this?” he asks, glancing up at Cassandra.

She scowls, her hand poised above the cards. “No,” she says sharply. “It was a gift in return for a particularly insightful reading I gave to a very influential demon. I do own nice things that weren’t given to me by ex-lovers, Israfil.” Cassandra turns her attention back to Isaac. “It must be awful having to put up with him every day,” she says, leaning in conspiratorially. “I only see him once every few eons and I’m already sick of him.”

He sighs wearily, hoping this visit doesn’t devolve into Cass and Isaac gossiping about him like two smug hens. “Just read his cards,” he mutters before a very amused Isaac can contribute anything to fan the flames.

Cassandra studies Isaac for a moment before reaching to slide a card out of the left side of the deck. She flips it over, setting it down before him. The card depicts a skeleton clad in black armor riding atop a pale horse. XIII – Death. Israfil can’t help but scoff.

Isaac’s face goes white and he turns to glare at Israfil. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen!” he whispers aggressively.

“Oh, settle down,” Cassandra says dismissively. “It just represents a period of change. Rebirth, growth…” She trails off, studying the card intently before adding, “It could mean a literal death, but not necessarily yours.”

“That isn’t very comforting.”

She rolls her eyes at Isaac. “The sign doesn’t say ‘Madame Cassandra: Comforter’. If you want to feel better, see a therapist. Or call your mother.” She looks up at Isaac through her long, dark lashes. “I’m sure our dear ex-angel has got your whole little life shaken up,” she says, her tone changing. “It must be awfully frightening. What with everyone hunting you, and all. Not to mention the dying sliver of grace incubating in you.” She says this with a sharp look towards Israfil. “Why did you bind yourself to him?”

Israfil shrugs, slouching lower in his seat. “It was an accident.”

Cassandra pinches the bridge of her nose. “You’re a fucking fool, you know that?”

He allows a slight grin to tug at the corner of his lips. “Remember how you used to say I was the smart one?”

“Azrael’s the smart one,” she corrects. “You’re the idiot with a heart of gold.”

“But you do admit I have a heart of gold.”

It’s Cassandra’s turn to scoff. She waves her hand in an annoyed shooing motion. “I’m tired of talking to you. Come back when I’m done with your boy.”

Israfil bristles slightly at the implication, his jaw tensing. “He’s not ‘my boy’,” he says tightly. “I’m not like Michael. I don’t mess around with humans.” He tries to make the remark as scathing as possible. Though, he’s never been very menacing. He probably sounds horribly guilty more than anything else.

She shoos him again, not even dignifying his intimidation attempt with a response. “Get out of here! You’re gunking up the whole room with your negative energy! And your smelly, rotting soul.”

He scowls but says nothing. “I’ll be outside,” he mutters, more to Isaac than to Cassandra. He gets up, the legs of the chair scraping against the hardwood floor as he does. He shoves his hands into his pockets and stalks moodily out the front door and into the warm light of the rapidly setting sun.

[jhoe]

not a day goes by where i dont think about hoseok ? it's weird bc i think of him everyday? i think of his full round cheeks like fat peaches and the soft delicate slope of his nose and how it curves up a little at the tip and how it would be the most perfect place to plant my lips after a long day. i think about his full lips like perfect pink wads of hubba bubba dhhdjd like theyre so beautiful and pouty and plump gosh and the perfectly placed mole right on the line of his lip where it turns more brown than pink and the dip of his philtrum and how beautifully it blends back out into the rosy pink of his lip and i still think about the little mole above his left eyebrow even though he got it removed and i think about brushing his hair to the side and cradling his head and kissing where that precious little mole used to be and i think about the strong outline of his body and how i want to trace every detail and winding curve and familiarize myself with all his little nooks and crannies and i know that sound stupid but god i think about this boy every waking moment of my life and you would think that after four years of it i would become numb to the thought but everyday i swear i find something new to love and i think of him and i can feel my heart unfurling in my chest and world defrosts a little and everything feels like it's going to be okay. and i am just so unbelievably enamored and unable to wrap my mind around everything that he is! he's beautiful but god oh my god he's passionate and patient and giving and thoughtful and optimistic and funny he has such a sense of humor and he's so much more intelligent than we give him credit for and like fuck it im goin in ! passion! hes so full to the brim with passion he's completely overflowing with love for his craft and you can see it in everything he does, he's a perfectionist. in the way he dances, he moves like he's not just memorized the moves and is performing them, he moves like he knows each move personally like he has studied how each one feels from his fingertips to his toes, he moves like he's communicating like he's talking with his body and like he is completely immersed in some other world that we can't even comprehend and when he talks you can tell and when he raps something about it is so raw and uncut and how he's been able to develop his own rap style when he didn't even plan to be a rapper speaks volumes for his dedication and passion and god its so attractive??????? and patient hes so gentle and calm when he teaches the others and when they're not quite getting it he slows down his little "ba baba ba baba"'s and breaks down the steps and like that one video of him leading dance practice and he looks so focused and when everyones not getting it he gets everyone together and they talk about it before trying again and hes just such a good teacher and watching him in his element like that is so magical and you just feel honored to be able to look at him and witness his self growth while bettering others and goshfhebrsg fuck its so calming it makes me feel like my brain and heart and soul are just floating in the damb clouds ! and hes giving hes always giving giving giving hes always giving us content and giving praise to the members and giving gifts and giving thanks and he gives so damb much and im scared that he would give his heart right out of his chest if he didn't need it so bad ! hes just always thinking of armys and his members and the little smile he gets when he mentions either just makes me want to give him everything right back like fuck the man is so fucking humble and when he talks to us hes always always promising that he'll work harder and perform better and keep putting out content and always thinking long and hard about what he says before he says it hsgdhsjs thts also a super endearing habit of his like when hes super relaxed and just doing a video or a live and hes not around anyone else, his voice drops a little and he kinda relaxes and rests his chin on his hand and talks real slow and giggles gently and makes lots of "hmmm" and "ahhhh" and "mmmm" noises as he thinks and god fuckfin i could really just listen to him talk forever like call me dramatic but i can physically feel every cell and bone in my body settle kind of like an old house and i feel a little like melty jello but in a good way because im wrapped in wool blankets but not the scratchy kind and i'm safe and nothing can hurt me because he's there and he's talking about dancing and his latest project and his mom and sister and mickey and it's so.. safe??? and the boy is optimistic despite everything and not in the sense that hes one big giant ray of blinding sunshine but because he's able to be that throughout everything?? if that makes sense?? even the members have said "hes not actually like that off camera" but because of the brand he's adopted, he continues to be. he continues to be that loud, carefree friend for us and for his members even when i'm sure he's stressed and sad and tired and god do you know how strong you have to be to do that like i can hardly even smile at customers at work when im sleepy but he gets up and does it and bares himself to the world with a smile on his face and i worry about him sometimes because i dont want him to think we would love him any less if he ever stopped but the strength he possesses to do so is indescribably admirable and i want him to know its okay and we love him and fuck i wouldn't ever trade him for the world he is perfect and bright on his own as he is and this probably isn't making sense and ur probably like when is this bitch gonna shut up but the answer is never ! i love him ! i love him and respect and admire and support him because of everything he is and isn't and if my heart was even able to fathom the soft little pit of love that has grown inside of me i'm pretty sure i would just die ! like my heart strings are tied around his perfect delicate fingers and he reached for the cereal this morning and nearly yanked my heart out and he doesn't even know it ! like god i am head over heels over head over heel over head over heels x100 over and over and i know that i will never love a man like this in this lifetime or any other one ever again ! anyway.. i fucks w hoseok heavy