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scotianostra · 10 months

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Victoria Helen McCrae Duncan was born on November 25th 1897 in Callander.

Known as Helen Duncan, in 1944, she became last person in the UK to be tried, convicted and imprisoned under the 1735 Witchcraft Act.

Hellish Nell, as she became known, was actually a medium, and by all accounts not a very good one, the way she earned her living was to hold seances and charge plenty for her services, but she was rumbled several times as a fraud.

Nor was she the last person convicted under the 1753 Act – now repealed and replaced with the Fraudulent Mediums Act of 1951 – because in fact three other people were on trial alongside her and one of them was sent to prison, too. Yet somehow the “last witch” nickname has stuck, though records clearly show that some months after her trial and imprisonment in September 1944, one Jane York, 72, from Forest Gate, East London, was charged under the same act with seven counts of pretending to conjure up spirits of the dead. Incredibly, York was simply bound over for the sum of £5 to be of good behaviour for three years.

Ah, but that happened after D-Day, and there is no question when you examine the evidence that the authorities wanted to make an example of Helen Duncan and put her away for the summer of 1944.

From an early age her own family saw her as fey, and her mother was mortified when the child’s behaviour became impossible – she would predict doom and destruction for all sorts of people and was given to outbursts of hysteria.

Her early life was otherwise normal. She moved to Dundee and worked at the Royal Infirmary where she met Henry Edward Duncan, a wounded war veteran and a cabinet maker. They were married in 1916, and Duncan would eventually have six children by Henry who saw a great way of making money from his wife’s talents in clairvoyance – she read tea leaves and made predictions and earned a few shillings for doing so.

By 1926 she had become a fully-fledged medium giving seances during a time when spiritualism was all the rage. Moving to Edinburgh, her seances were soon the talk of the town – even the ghost of that local man turned Sherlock Holmes creator, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, a great believer in spiritualism, was said to have materialised at sittings.

A prominent feature of her seances was her apparent ability to produce “ectoplasm” from her mouth during her trances when she was transformed into her spirit partners Albert or Peggy, a young girl whose voices “spoke” through Duncan. She had grown quite obese and the contrast between this 20-stone woman and the childish voices was part of the reason why people believed in her.

It was at a seance in January 1933 that Peggy emerged in the seance room and a sitter named Esson Maule grabbed her. The lights were turned on and the spirit was revealed to be made of a cloth undervest which used as evidence that led to Duncan’s conviction on the Scottish offence of fraud at Edinburgh Sheriff Court in May 1933.

The conviction does not seem to have harmed her career. Duncan was by then making a good living by conducting seances throughout Britain at which “the spirits of the dead were alleged to have appeared, sometimes talking to and even touching their relatives”.

Duncan began to get more famous but also began to be more scrutinized. Director Harry Price of the National Laboratory of Psychical Research examined her. He deemed her ‘ectoplasms’ to be made of cheese and eggs which she would regurgitate up. Price was less than impressed by what he felt was a show woman, exploiting people for money.

“Could anything be more infantile than a group of grown-up men wasting time, money, and energy on the antics of a fat female crook.”

During World War Two, Duncan lived in Portsmouth, the home of the Royal Navy. In 1941, the spirit of a sailor reportedly appeared at one of her seancés announcing that he had just gone down on a vessel called the Barham. HMS 'Barham' was not officially declared lost until several months later, its sinking having been kept secret to mislead the enemy and protect morale.

Unsurprisingly, Duncan's activities attracted the attention of the authorities and on 19 January 1944, one of her séances was interrupted by a police raid during which she and three members of her audience were arrested.

Duncan was remanded in custody by Portsmouth magistrates. She was originally charged under section 4 of the Vagrancy Act (1824), under which most charges relating to fortune-telling, astrology and spiritualism were prosecuted by magistrates in the 20th century. This was considered a relatively petty charge and usually resulted in a fine if proved. She was eventually tried by jury at the Old Bailey for contravening section 4 of the Witchcraft Act of 1735, which carried the heavier potential penalty of a prison sentence.

In particular, the medium and her three sitters were accused of pretending 'to exercise or use human conjuration that through the agency of Helen Duncan spirits of deceased persons should appear to be present'. Duncan was also charged with offences under the Larceny Act for taking money 'by falsely pretending that she was in a position to bring about the appearances of the spirits of deceased persons'.

The trial caused a media sensation and was extensively covered in the newspapers, many of which revelled in printing cartoons of witches on broomsticks. At one stage, the defence announced that Duncan was prepared to demonstrate her abilities in the witness box. This amounted to conducting a séance in the court while in a state of trance and the offer was refused.

Duncan was found guilty as charged under the Witchcraft Act and sentenced to nine months in Holloway Prison, London, but she was cleared of the other offences. She was the last person in Britain to be jailed under the act, which was repealed in 1951 and replaced with the Fraudulent Mediums Act following a campaign by spiritualist and member of parliament Thomas Brooks.

There are two common misconceptions about Duncan's conviction. The first is that she was the last person in Britain to be convicted of being a witch. In fact, the Witchcraft Act was originally formulated to eradicate the belief in witches and its introduction meant that from 1735 onwards an individual could no longer be tried as a witch in England or Scotland. However, they could be fined or imprisoned for purporting to have the powers of a witch.

The second misconception is that she was the last person to be convicted under the Witchcraft Act. Again this is incorrect. Records show that the last person to be convicted under the Witchcraft Act was Jane Rebecca Yorke in late 1944. Due to her age (she was in her seventies) she received a comparatively lenient sentence and was fined.

Additionally, it has often been suggested that the reason for Duncan's imprisonment was the authorities' fear that details of the imminent D-Day landings might be revealed, and given the revelation about the Barham it is clear to see why the medium might be considered a potential risk. Nonetheless, then prime minister Winston Churchill wrote to the home secretary branding the charge 'obsolete tomfoolery'.

Helen Duncan was released from prison on the 22 September 1944 and seems to have avoided further trouble until November 1956, when the police raided a private séance in Nottingham on suspicion of fraudulent activity. No charges were brought and shortly afterwards, on 6 December in the same year, the woman who is sometimes remembered as the 'last witch' died.

A campaign by her descendents to clear her name continues to this day.

The first pic is a bust f Helrn, which was presnted to the town of Callander, but such is the atitudes towards her it was rejected, it i nowon display at the Stirling Smith Art Gallery and Museum.

#scotland #scottish #history #spiritualist

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fromrosepetalcottage · 11 months

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Wabi sabi life

Photo by Sakagura London.

I've been thinking about the Japanese practice of kintsugi as seen in ceramics, as well as the sashiko mending technique in clothing. Kintsugi encompasses the concept of wabi sabi. Wabi-sabi is the view or thought of finding beauty in every aspect of imperfection in nature. It is about the aesthetic of things in existence, that are “imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete."

Is this not something that we can apply to humans in all our imperfections, psychic wounds new or old, bodies easing into "vintage" years? I read something on a Japanese website that translated the concept in an accessible way that really made me think of how wabi sabi could apply to us, especially as older women. To quote:

Wabi sabi is a beautiful way to describe what is natural and pure and to acknowledge the beauty of any substance or being in its most natural and raw form. It eliminates the rather Westernized concept of artificial beauty and idolizing a state of perfection that is seemingly unachievable and unnatural. The western world has made the concept of beauty into something that is becoming more and more refined as well as more and more unachievable with each passing day and it distorts the idea of natural beauty and accepting the flaws of existence, however, on the contrary, the Japanese belief and concept of wabi-sabi embraces just that and allows the people to be more accepting and open to embracing the beauty of flaws and rawness. Source: https://www.kyoto-ryokan-sakura.com/archives/191

I can't be the only person who scrolls social media and is dismayed by the ubiquity of certain types of selfies. There is a depressing sameness of makeup, hair, expressions, poses. A famous actress once said that adolescence was the time of life when young people had to prove their individuality by looking exactly like everyone else. And that's what social media has become. Extended adolescence on a worldwide scale. Even influencers targeting a mature crowd seem to have fallen into the look alike/dress alike mold. Style blogs that are supported by retail outlets spotlight similar fashions, and while some might link to different size ranges, few share resources that help women understand their shapes or unique natural coloring, leading to a different type of clone wars.

As the Japanese point out, in the West our idea of beauty is something that is so airbrushed and Photoshopped into perfection that it's often unrealistic. A friend and I recently had lunch then stopped in a local IG hotspot to shop and get a couple of snapshots. A nice bystander took a few photos of us, but I was dismayed to see the unfiltered evidence of my current age. I look old, was all that I could sputter. As my friend pointed out, I'm pretty good with editing software and apps, so after a little tweaking, I uploaded the best shot later. But that reflex has nagged at me a little. I don't like looking older, but it's my reality. I am 64, although I could pass for late 40s on a good day.

In the Western Hemisphere, as well as the U.K., the idea that youth is best reigns. When I was in my 20s, I learned that once you hit 30 you were considered over the hill in Brazil. Maybe this idea came from ancient Greece. During the Classical period, idealized sculptures had perfect proportions, but also illustrated the Greek's belief that people peaked at about the age of 18 or so. Even a sculpture of Zeus, king of the gods, might have depicted him as an older man with flowing hair and beard, but Zeus still rocked a body that would make Arnold envious. Over millennia canonical artists have continued to use youthful models. However, the two years of art school that included life drawing classes with nude models ranging from fit and young to older and soft taught me to look differently at bodies.

Model mama, art school, 2002.

For whatever reason, I had an easier time drawing bodies that had a surplus of "fluff" on them. Students weren't supposed to have contact with our models, but our class threw a shower for one. She had taken a maternity leave and on her return, still obviously hadn't lost any of the baby weight, but it didn't matter. Her Rubenesque curves were a delight to try and capture on my drawing board. Unlike some of the young guys in my classes, for me there was nothing sexual about drawing an unclothed body. I saw light, shadow, lines, curves, textures. It takes a certain kind of bravery, and maybe some healthy vanity, to model nude for a studio full of strangers four days a week at universities and art schools around the county to earn enough to live on. This woman gave no fucks that she was considered large in that pre-body-positivity era. Her body had functioned beautifully as it was meant to. She brought a healthy baby into the world. The abundant curves of her abdomen and hips were certainly evidence of their recent use, and she was still breast feeding - again her body was functioning as nature meant. What society might consider imperfect served not only her child, but also students looking to refine their technique in depicting the human form.

We all have some type of imperfection whether visible or invisible. Childhood wounds to the psyche aren't always apparent, although the effect of physical wounds remain visible or physiological in limps or twinges. Our culture pushes near perfection via magazines, films, television programs, and online influencers who seem to want to sell us something that will bring us closer to that elusive goal.

I have another friend who is fond of saying that we already have all we need inside us. While meditating this morning, that thought drifted into my consciousness. I was focusing on wholeness and trust - self trust to be exact. I've made so many mistakes at this point that they could be used as examples on how NOT to live. But I'm ok, and I do have all that I need externally. I have a job and good friends. My home isn't the fanciest, but I have a comfortable place to lay my head at night, there is food in the pantry, and there's good reading and music at hand. Experience has been a tough teacher, but instead of being broken my body has mended the external damage, and the practice of meditating and journaling has helped to salve the emotional wounds.

As those thoughts came to me after I finished meditating, the concept of wabi sabi surfaced. Beautiful imperfection. The kintsugi technique is the repair of shattered pottery and then using gold leaf to highlight the lines where the vessel had come back together. The jagged lines aren't seen as flaws, but as something to be cherished and the gold makes a treasure of the piece. Sashiko mending involves using decorative stitches to patch or darn a spot on a garment that is fraying or has developed holes. The technique has come into fashion in the West with people becoming more conscious of sustainable clothing. Rather than disposing of a worn garment, repair it and add a personal touch that is a thing of beauty in and of itself. I tried sashiko on the elbow of a much loved topper that I was wearing at work every day. The technique salvaged the piece and kept it out of the recycle bin.

Sashiko source: https://perennialstl.org/event/boro-sashiko-mending/

After a pretty traumatic road accident the same elbow on my body had to be stitched back together, along with some other spots. The stitches didn't quite heal right, and 12 years later, the scars are still there on my arm. Maybe they're my personal kintsugi, although it's not possible to apply gold leaf. The scars are evidence that I am still here, still functioning - got motion back - and I'm still useful. I'm broken but unbowed.

I believe that anyone who has made it this far is going to have some internal or external damage; it's natural. Life is not perfection; life is messy and if we just accept that we can't control everything, it's a bit easier to accept the occasional mess and imperfections. While I certainly have things I'm still working on, things that are in my sphere of control, the rest is what it is. Like the kintsugi vessel, my scars are golden. If you've read this far, yours are as well...

#wabisabi #kintsugi #sashiko #impermanence #imperfections #brokenbutunbowed #imstillstanding #lifeover50 #agepositive #agepositvely #maturewomen #ageinggracefully #art school #life drawing #life models #scars #meditation

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hiphopgirl16 · 2 years

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Chapter 4 - The Doctor and The Detective

The streets of London were louder than usual. Police officers closed off the upper East Side of the city as Scotland Yard arrived at the crime scene. Anderson waits patiently outside for his boss Lestrade to arrive from Scotland Yard. The bags under the detective’s eyes showed his lack of sleep for the past few days, struggling to pull himself together as he walked up to his colleague. “What have you got for me this time, Anderson?” asked Lestrade. “Something beyond the crime scenes we’re used to” answered Anderson, “It’s better to show what happened rather than explaining it” The older man raised a brow as he followed his colleague to the crime scene inside the building. At first glance, it looked like any other crime scene; broken windows, footprints/fingerprints around the room, papers thrown to the ground. “Doesn’t seem abnormal to me, Anderson” he said, “Perhaps it was just a bunch of kids pulling another prank” “Just wait till you see the body,” said Anderson, leading Lestrade to the main office, showing the body of the latest victim covered by a white sheet. Lestrade walks up to the body and slowly removes the cloth to reveal the victim’s face. No blood was shown, but something that looked straight out of a sci-fi movie. Greenish blue slime was foaming at the victim’s mouth, their eyes an unnatural shade of blue, skin white as snow, and an inscription written on the wall. However the writing wasn’t in English, but an unknown language that not even Anderson could translate. Lestrade sighed and shook his head, “You know who to call,” he said, hoping he wouldn’t regret it in the future.

The sound of a roaring machine could be heard from the distance as a familiar blue box materialized in the streets of London. The young companion Esther was the first to step out of the T.A.R.D.I.S only to notice something off about their destination, “Doctor?” she asked the spikey haired time lord, “ This isn’t the London I know. Are you sure the T.A.R.D.I.S didn’t send us here on purpose?” “Of course not” said the Doctor, adjusting his blue coat and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his suit, “Although it has happened once or twice, it couldn't hurt to explore this version of London, right?” “I guess not” “Atta girl. Come along then” The Doctor grasps his companion’s hand, running through the streets of London with smiles on their faces. After a block or two, Esther noticed the headline on one of the newspapers from a stand. The time lord followed her gaze and makes his way to the stand, buying the newspaper to take a look at the article titled, “Famous Consulting Detective Sherlock Holmes Struggles with Possible UFOs” “UFOs?” asked Esther, “Sherlock Holmes? So he’s real” “Seems like it” said the Doctor, “Perhaps we should pay him a visit” The companion glanced at the newspaper then back at the Doctor, “You mean?” “Oh yes” said the Doctor, “221B Baker Street” “We’re gonna meet the real Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson” “It’s elementary, my dear Esther” Esther rolled her eyes playfully as she and the Doctor made their way to Baker Street. Little did they know that someone was taking pictures of the newcomers in an alleyway, eying them with suspicion as they glanced at the photo through the camera.

Once the duo finally made it to Baker Street, the numbers 221B plastered on a black door next to a deli shop. The Doctor steps forward and rings the doorbell, waiting patiently with psychic paper in hand and a smile on his face. The door was answered by an older woman dressed in violet from head to toe. “Hi!~” said Esther and the Doctor “Oh, hello there” said the woman, “Are you here to see Sherlock?” “Oh yes, ma’am, we represent the Paranormal Investigation unit” said the Doctor, showing the woman his ‘badge’ “We read about the case from the paper and thought we’d pay a visit to Mr. Holmes’ residency” said Esther “Oh, I’m afraid Sherlock’s not here at the moment” said the older woman, “But I’d be happy to leave a message for him when he comes back” The Doctor frowned a bit, “Where is he now?” he asked “Possibly Scotland Yard or God knows where. Do come in tho, it’s quite cold. Perhaps John might come pick up a few things” The Doctor and Esther glanced at one another before entering the flat, following the older woman up the stairs to Sherlock and John’s home. The woman tells them to make themselves comfortable while she makes a cup of tea downstairs. The Doctor decided to look around the rather messy flat while Esther explored the kitchen, beakers set on what she assumed was the dining table, papers scattered on the tables and the wall with bullet holes and a spray painted smiley face in the corner. A shriek was heard from the kitchen, the time lord glanced over to see a rather horrified Esther by the refrigerator, hand on her chest to calm herself down. “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned for his companion. “There’s a head” Esther muttered “A bloody head in the fridge” “What? Don’t be ridiculous, you’re probably just imagining things-” The Doctor opens the fridge, to his horror, there was a severed head sitting in the center of the fridge. “Okay” he said, closing the fridge, gently pushing his companion out of the kitchen to calm her down. “Is everything alright up there?” asked the woman, entering the flat with a tray of tea and biscuits, “I thought I heard screaming” “Oh everything’s fine, thank you” said the Doctor, “Ah tea, lovely, thank you very much um-” “Mrs. Hudson?” a voice called, “Are you here?” “Do come up, John.” said Mrs. Hudson, “You have guests” A short man walks into the flat. His blonde hair combed neatly to the side, wearing a rather baggy jacket with a knit sweater over a gray dress shirt, and a military watch resting on his right wrist. Mrs. Hudson was about to introduce the military Doctor who the two guest were, smiling awkwardly for a moment, “I’m sorry, I never got your names” “Oh, how silly of us” said the Doctor, “I’m…Smith, Rory Smith” “And I’m Amy Smith” said Esther The Doctor glanced at his companion who shrugged silently in response before glancing at the blonde Doctor. “Oh um, John Watson” said John, offering the time lord a handshake, “You are here for Sherlock, yes?” “That’s right” said the Doctor, “We were sent by the Paranormal Investigation to help with his latest case. You wouldn’t happen to see anything unusual have you?” John raised a brow at the two newcomers and cleared his throat “I’m sorry, paranormal investigators?” He asked, “The police don’t go to paranormal investigators” “Nor Consulting detectives” Esther elbowed the Doctor and gave military Doctor an apologetic look “Sorry about him” she said “He can be a bit rude at times” John nods “It’s alright” he said “sounds like someone I know a little too well” “But, you wouldn’t mind sharing what you saw, do you?”

Meanwhile, Sherlock Holmes was at the morgue with Molly, investigating the body found at the crime scene before preparing for an autopsy. “How fresh?” Asked Sherlock “Just in” said Molly, “Anderson called to see if there’s anything unusual about the body” “Seems more like an elaborate prank” Sherlock takes a closer look at the body, his eyes squint for a moment until the sound of a door opening from afar. “Door” said Sherlock, his back toward the door, telling the short blonde to close the door behind him. John closed the door, presenting the Doctor and Esther to the very detective, Sherlock Holmes. Esther stood in awe while the Doctor smiled and walked over to the famous detective, glancing over his shoulder at the body set on the operating table. “Oh, that’s some rather nasty business” said the Doctor, “Not my style but rather interesting to the eye” Sherlock turned his head to the newcomer next to him, standing tall to nearly match the other’s height by an inch. His eyes scanned every inch of the Doctor from the crooked tie wrapped around his neck, the odd choice in clothes, his sandshoes, to even his posture. Something doesn’t add up. Who was this man? This man was rather mysterious to the detective’s eye, which made him all the more interested in what secrets this newcomer and his companion have. “Who are you?” asked Sherlock “Dr. Rory Smith, pleasure to meet you Mr. Holmes” said the Doctor, “My top operative Amy Smith and I are from the Paranormal Investigation Unit” Sherlock could smell a lie from a mile away, he knew the man standing before him was lying but decided to play the rather boring part of believing in the lie. “Then tell me, Mr. Smith, what would you know about the effects on the body? But more importantly, how do we know this isn’t some elaborate prank?” The Doctor’s frown turned into a slight grin, a grin that says that he may know a thing or two about the difference between fact and fiction. Esther walks over to the body, applying a pair of gloves, to examine it. She noticed something on one of the victim’s arms, flipping it carefully to reveal markings going down from the elbow to the wrist. John noticed it too and looked over the girl’s shoulder. “I don’t remember seeing this on the body” said John, “It was completely clean when we got the photos this morning” “They just appeared” said the Doctor, placing his spectacles on to get a better look at the markings. Thankfully, the T.A.R.D.I.S was able to translate the writings that were on the victim’s arm. “That looks like a message” he said, “Well, more like a warning” “A warning?” asked Esther, “About what?” “Not what, who” The Doctor leans in toward his companion, looking her dead in the eye and whispered, “Read what it says” Esther looked down at the writing and reads it out loud, “The Doctor is coming for you” Her eyes looked up at the timelord with concern while the other looked down at the message written in the victim’s arm. His eyes glanced at the head of the body, pulling out his sonic screwdriver to scan their facial features until a gloved hand grasped the timelord’s device. “You’re not with the Paranormal Investigations Unit are you?” asked Sherlock, “You and your companion are not from around here” “Sherlock, please, not now” John begged, “They’re here to help us out with your case” “John, be realistic, there is no paranormal investigations unit. The only ones that handle this sort of thing is Torchwood, which doesn't take Scotland Yard quite lightly. Let alone Anderson and his ridiculous theories. If you’re not who you say you are, then what kind of doctor are you?” The Doctor lowered his sonic and placed it in his pocket, “The only doctor who can help you solve this case”

Of course, it took some convincing from the Doctor and Esther to help Sherlock and John to help the two solve the alien case. A bit of persuasion and some explanations later, they finally agreed, which wasn’t easy for the timelord to deal with. Currently the two were back in Baker Street with the Detective and military doctor, browsing through files of past victims and evidence so far. The Doctor translates some of the messages left at each crime scene which came from Echlous, a planet known for its toxins in the furthest part of the galaxy. “Have you ever encountered anyone from Echlous?” asked Esther “Well… No” said the Doctor, “Not yet anyway, one thing I love about traveling through time and space, you never know what sorts of trouble you get into” Esther raised a brow with concern and confusion before comparing the photos from each crime scene, translating the messages until she noticed something about some of the letters. Sherlock noticed two and looked over the girl’s shoulder, “Write it down” he said, “See if you can find any through your pile, I’ll look at the ones in this pile” “Got it” said Esther, pulling out a red pen to circle and write the letters shown in the messages. Esther hands the detective his notes so the group can compare and figure out the secret message. While Sherlock and the Doctor figure out the message, John walks over to Esther, tapping her shoulder gently so the two could talk amongst themselves in private. Once the two stepped outside, John was the first to speak, “Why did you come here?” he asked Esther hesitates to answer, “Umm… Honestly, it was an accident” she explained, “The Doctor and I were supposed to arrive in MY London, not this one. No offense, but your version of London seems a bit… gloomy” John raised a brow at the girl, “Gloomy?” he asked, “Actually, never mind. Why come to me and Sherlock when you can clearly go back to YOUR London?” “It’s not that simple. The T.A.R.D.I.S works in mysterious ways, sometimes it drops us off in the most random places like the Bermuda Triangle, Atlantis, a planet with three-headed aliens, the list goes on” The blonde doctor took a silent breath, finding it hard to believe that an alien and a girl could travel through time and space but never in the right spot. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave Esther a serious look, “Do you trust him?” he asked “Do you?” asked Esther. Before the military doctor could answer the question, a smoke bomb appeared out of nowhere. A large green cloud appeared around the two, coughing violently until a sharp pain appeared in the back of their meads. Esther tried her best to keep herself from falling, her blurred vision showed a man grabbing an unconscious John Watson while another figure came closer and closer till the girl’s vision went black.

“Interesting” said Sherlock, glancing at the notes in front of him, “Normally, I would find cases like this rather boring, much like domestic murder” “Ah this isn’t my first rodeo” said the Doctor, “I dealt with all sorts of trouble, even with the U.N.I.T. back in the 70s. Or was it the 80s? Can’t quite recall” The detective raised a brow at the timelord, scanning him from head to toe. He nods and returns to his work while the Doctor does the same. He paused. The timelord reassembles the letters found in the photos to make out a sentence and pulls away to see the message properly. Sherlock does the same and their eyes widen in shock. It was messages from two of their worst enemies. For Sherlock, the message reads “The game has just begun, Sherlock Holmes” For the Doctor, the message reads, “Did you miss me, Doctor?” Mrs. Hudson entered the flat to check up everyone when she noticed the looks on the detective and the time lord’s faces. “Sherlock” she said, her face filled with worry, “It’s John and the young lady. They’re gone” “Gone?” asked the Doctor, walking up to the old woman with concern, “Where is she? Where have they gone?” “I-I’m not sure. They just vanished into thin air, but I found something outside” The old woman leads the two outside to show them a smoke bomb left on the ground. Sherlock bent down and cautiously picked up the object. His mind palace starts to picture the conversation between John and Esther, the sound of the bomb dropping to the floor and two men grabbing their companions. His head turned to see marks on the ground, coming from Esther's boots as she struggled against the male with a cloth over her face and a cry for the Doctor’s help. The detective stood up and imagined a black van driving off to the other side of Baker Street with John and Esther tied and gagged for good measure. The Doctor followed Sherlock’s gaze until the sound of a phone rang from his pocket. He pulls it out to reveal a message on the screen saying “Good Luck~” from his companion’s phone. The time lord glared at the screen, seeing the image of his very enemy in the back of his mind. The one who nearly destroyed the planet he loved, hurting the people he cared for, and the very time lord he once trusted and betrayed. The Master.

Everything was a blur. The last thing Esther remembered was talking to the war doctor about her trust in the time lord, the next the sound of metal and smoke coming off, and the next, nothing. The girl’s eyes fluttered open as a man stood before her through the blurred vision. He was tall with his hands behind his back, dressed in an all purple suit, dark hair combed neatly, and a sickening grin plastered on his face. He leans in slowly and whispered, “Hello Little Esther, wakey wakey eggs and bakey~” Esther shook her head softly as a hand cupped her chin tight to make sure she was looking at him. “Oh I never thought I’d meet you so soon” said the man, “And never have I thought that you’d become the Doctor’s new little pet. But then again, you just seem so innocent and desperate for a life away from reality. Such a pity really, especially for a lovely girl such as yourself” Esther felt rather disgusted by the man as he gently caressed her cheek with one hand while his thumb glided along her lower lip. “Now don’t be so tense, missy” he said, “You should be thankful I didn’t kill you” “Who are you?” asked Esther “Oh! Of course, where are my manners? I am the Master, surely the Doctor has told all about me~” The girl fell silent and stared at the Master in anger and confusion, “No?” he asked, “Ugh, no surprise. He never talks about his past, how typical” “What are you talking about?” the girl questions, “You mean, you were a companion or something?” “Something… a bit more than a ‘Companion’, my dear Esther. Did you really think the Doctor was the only time lord left in the universe?” Esther’s eyes widened in shock. Never before has she ever met another time lord other than the Doctor. The Master smirked and stood back, giving the girl a moment to take it all in. She glared at the man before him “The Doctor will come for me” she said, “He’ll come and save John Watson and myself once he finds out” “Oh, I don’t think it’ll be THAT easy, sweetheart” said another voice. It was then the girl was greeted with a cold blade against her neck, a voice whispering behind her ear, “You must know who I am, don’t you?” Esther side glanced at the stranger standing behind her, her teeth grind with annoyance as she answered, “Jim Moriarty” “Ding Ding Ding~ Give the clever girl points~” “Where’s John?” “Oh please, you’re worried about a silly little war doctor when you should be worried about your own little Doctor falling into our trap” The Master walks up to the girl, removing the restraints before pulling her close to him, “You see, Esther” he said, “Moriarty and I have something in common” “You don’t say” said Esther sarcastically “We both have arch enemies, someone we both trusted a long time ago. But it all went down hill when they decided to point a gun at us or even betray us for a silly little time machine” The girl attempted to move away, but her body somehow refused to let go, “I wouldn’t try to fight me” said the Master, “We made sure that neither you nor Watson would leave this place. In fact, I’d like to offer you a deal” The Master pulled Esther closer as they danced across the room as if it were a ball. Esther doesn’t bother to ask so the time lord decided to continue. “How do you feel about becoming my companion instead?” he asked, “Do so and I’d be happy to leave the Doctor alone and no harm would come to either one of you. Think of all the fun we'll have traveling the universe and destroying everything we come across. Of course, I’m not the only one whose ruined so many lives back on Earth” “Don’t listen to him!” called John, his voice coming from a cage made of glass, specially designed for the war doctor. “Do we really have to do this again?” asked Moriarty, snapping his fingers to activate laser pointers to John’s chest, “I don’t like repeating myself, but I will for the sake of a dear friend coming to visit” “What do you mean ‘ruin’?” asked Esther, “The Doctor would never do such a thing” The Master just smirked and dipped the girl in his arms, “Because you don’t know him like I do” he said, “I know everything that you don’t. One day, he’ll ruin you too. But I can treat you better. So much so, that I can even make you feel like the Queen of the universe. Or better yet, I could make you my bride~” The girl glared and leaned in just a bit to whisper, “I. Would. Rather. Die” The Master didn’t take that answer to heart, roughly grabbing Esther and growling, “Why must his companions always be so stubborn?” “Now now Master” said Moriarty, “Let's not be too hasty. We don’t even have out guests of honor to witness their companions possible demise” The short man reveal a syringe filled with radioactive aquamarine liquid, adjusting the tip so it’s nice and sharp before glancing at the girl, “It’ll be quite the show~”

Sherlock followed the Doctor down the streets of London till his eyes found the very blue telephone box standing just in the corner of an alleyway. He stopped for a moment, examining the box through his mind palace until the Doctor spoke, “I wouldn’t bother thinking too much” he said, “Wait till you see the inside” Sherlock raises a brow as the time lord opens the door to enter the T.A.R.D.I.S “Come on!” called the Doctor. The detective hesitates for a brief moment before cautiously entering the said blue box. The look on his face showed awe and amusement, while at the same time the detective wondered how such a small box could be bigger on the inside. Although he didn’t say it, the Doctor knew that Sherlock said it in the back of his mind. “Alright then” said the Doctor, making his way to the controls, “Now we just need to figure out where Watson and Esther are. You wouldn’t happen to know anywhere Moriarty might be? Somewhere abandoned or perhaps an old hiding spot he would use” “Moriarty isn’t that stupid to use an old hiding spot” said Sherlock, “This one’s different. It’s too obvious for him to find a new hiding spot that not unless he’s clever enough to have some sort of-” He paused. A smirk appeared on both Sherlock and the Doctor’s faces. The Master and Moriarty wouldn’t find themselves in this reality, but another version of a hideout. “Oh they are clever” said Sherlock, “That friend of his must have similar technology to this box. Bigger on the outside but smaller on the out” “Of course!” said the Doctor, “If they have a hiding spot that’s bigger on the inside, then we might as well go to the scene of the crime”

Esther stood in the center of the room with the Master circling around her like a vulture examining its prey. “Tell me” he said, “What’s it gonna take for you to trust me and become my companion? It’s clear that the Doctor has filled your head with silly nonsense and kind smiles to make you believe that he would protect you at any cost” “Nothing you do or say is gonna make me join you, Master” said Esther, “And I don’t ask questions to the Doctor because what’s the point in asking him when he’s just gonna dodge the bullet?” “Exactly! That’s one of the Doctor’s rules, he lies and puts on a happy face” Esther stood in silence while the Master stood before her, his hand held out for the girl to take, “I can tell you every little lie the Doctor has told over the past century or so. I can keep you safe and treasure you like the stars of the universe” The girl continued to glare in silence as the Master used persuasion on her. In the corner of her eye, she could see two figures interesting the room. It was the Doctor and Sherlock. John followed the girl’s gaze from the glass cage, about to yell until Sherlock pressed his finger to his lips. Watson nods and glances at Moriarty, “Let me guess” he said, “We say no and you kill us?” “Oh that’s so old fashioned” said Moriarty, adjusting the needle in the syringe, “If SHE says no, then you both die and so will the rest of London. But then again, a stubborn girl like her does bring some form of entertainment.” The Master frowned seeing the girl wasn’t convinced and pushed her to the side to make his way towards Moriarty, “You find this amusing, Moriarty?” he asked, “Now I maybe a time lord, but I have no patience for this pet” Moriarty’s face remained calm and placed his gloved hand on the other’s shoulder, “Be lucky I have everything set up if she continues for another hour or so” “I cannot wait that long. We had a deal that I give you the toxins from Echlous and in exchange, we destroy our greatest enemies and destroy this God forsaken planet” “You men are so impatient sometimes. But then again it turns me on quite a bit to see the angry look on your face~” As the two masterminds bicker, Esther and John glanced over at the Doctor and Sherlock sneaking their way to the controls where the toxins were held. The girl decided to create a diversion to get the Master’s attention by “playing the part” of accepting the offer. She opens her shirt a bit and puts on a fake seductive smile and turns her attention back to the two. “Oh Master~” said Esther, “Now that I think about it, I believe you would make an excellent Doctor~ It also made me realize how… incredibly handsome you are~” The Master and Moriarty seemed rather surprised by the girl’s sudden change in behavior, John on the other hand looked rather disgusted. Esther felt disgusted as well, but she had to come up with something so the others don’t notice Sherlock and the Doctor. “That’s more like it~” said the Master, adjusting his suit and walks up to the girl, “I knew you’d see it my way, my pet~” “Oh I have~” said Esther, pulling the Master closer by his tie, “The Doctor is just a coward, always running away from his problems when he could do so much more~ But you, face them like a true hero~” The Doctor watched as his companion dealt with the Master, feeling a bit hurt by her words even though it was just an act. He shook it off and pulled out his sonic to mess with the control panel. The sound of the tool’s buzzing ringed through the room, nearly causing the Master to turn the other direction until Esther pulled him in for a kiss. She pulls away to see the purple time lord smirking at her, cupping her chin with his fingers, “How bold of you, little Esther~” he purred, “Too bad I know what you’re up to” A sharp pain appeared in Esther’s lower abdomen, bolts of electricity shocking her until she fell to the ground. “You’ve finally made it, Doctor!~” said the Master, “Oh and I wouldn’t bother using your little cabinet tool, I made sure to sonic proof it just for you” “Yes, not even dear Sherlock can help you with that” said Moriarty, “I guess you can say… You lost the game~”

The two masterminds laughed as the Doctor glanced at his unconscious companion. His eyes filled with worry as he slowly walks up to the time lord towering over him, “Master” he said, “Just let her go” The Master tilts his head slightly, “You know I like it when you beg” he said, leaning towards the Doctor with a sinister smirk, “Do it again~” Before the Doctor could get down on his knees, Sherlock pulls out his gun, aiming in Moriarty’s direction. The mastermind pouts “You sure you wanna do that, Sherlock?” he asked, pulling out his own gun. He pulls the trigger without a moment of hesitation, shooting the detective straight into his chest. “SHERLOCK!!!” John yelled through the glass cage as Moriarty shot towards the Doctor’s direction. Thankfully, the time lord was able to dodge the bullets and hide behind a large box. “You can’t hide forever, Doctor,” said the Master, unaware that Esther was slowly regaining consciousness, slowly crawling towards the glass cage to free Watson, “Just admit that you’ve lost and we can all end this peacefully… Then again, that’s just boring wouldn’t you agree, Moriarty?” “100 percent, Master” said Moriarty, “I mean if we end this peacefully, then all that work we did was nothing but a waste of time” The two masterminds paused before turning their heads back to Sherlock’s body. Upon closer inspection, they noticed there wasn’t any sight of blood; not a stain nor a puddle of blood forming below the body. The master hissed at a sharp feeling on his right shoulder, turning his back to see the detective’s partner pointing a gun at the two masterminds. “You missed” said the Master “I know” said John “But you shouldn’t underestimate a time lord teaming up with a famous detective,” a voice called from the other side of the room. There the Doctor stood with a proud grin on his face while Sherlock stood brushing off his coat and the double comes out of hiding, showing himself as Lestrade from Scotland Yard disguised as the Doctor with a speaker on his jacket to project the time lord’s voice. The Master’s glare sharpened as he gazed upon his enemy, to say he was angry would be an understatement. He was furious. “Always figuring out a way to cheat death, how clever of you Doctor” he spoke with sarcasm, “Even for you, Sherlock Holmes” “Oh please, save the humiliation for later” said Sherlock, “Just admit that we won and you let them go” Moriarty’s smile turned into a frown, “You wound me” he said, “But in case you’ve forgotten, I’m not easy to catch~”

With the snap of his fingers, the lights turn off and Moriarty leaves the scene in the blink of an eye all the while the Master was about to pull out his screwdriver to defeat the Doctor. Before he could harm the tall time lord, a whack to the head caused the Master to tumble to the ground, revealing a rather angry Esther holding a crowbar as a weapon. The master groaned in pain as he lay on his back. A silent chuckle escaped his lips as he looked up at the girl’s eyes. The one look he’d recognize so well that he couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the sight despite the pain he was in. The look of a psychopath. “You have her eyes” he said through the fit of laughter, “your psycho mother gave me that same look when I tried to kill her” Esther was fuming with anger, ready to strike the Master beneath her until a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a tight hug. “Esther, stop!” the Doctor begged, holding his companion tightly till she finally calmed down. Esther’s breath grew heavy as she lowered her arms and dropped the crowbar to the ground. Nearly collapsed to the ground if the Doctor wasn’t holding her. No tears were shed, but the sobs muffled into the Doctor’s jacket while he comforted her. The sound of his two hearts beating against his chest almost felt like a lullaby to the girl while taking deep breaths through her sobs. “That’s it, that’s it” said the Doctor, “Take a deep breath, ignore everything else, and calm down” Once Esther finally calmed down, she took one last breath before looking up at the time lord who smiled at her and wiped the girl’s tears with his thumb. “Better?” he asked “Yeah” she responds with a small smile. The alarm triggered through the building, red lights flickering as the toxins were ready for launch. Esther looked around to see the Master was gone, “Doc, we have to find him!” “Forget the Master, Esther” said John, “We have to stop this machine” “On it!” said the Doctor, pulling out his trusty screwdriver while Sherlock uses his mind palace to figure out a way to shut it down. Lestrade calls Scotland Yard to send for reinforcements while John checks on Esther for any signs of the toxins affecting the girl. Once Sherlock finally figures it out, he resets the program so the Doctor could use his sonic screwdriver to shut the whole thing off. The time lord had to act quickly since the program would only last for 10 seconds. “Enough time” said the Doctor, pointing his screwdriver at the tank which shuts down in a blink of an eye.

Once it was over, the group managed to bring what’s left of the toxins back to the real world. Esther was sitting with a blanket wrapped around her near the T.A.R.D.I.S while Sherlock and John talk with Lestrade and Anderson. The Doctor joins her and sits beside the girl, “You know it’s not too late to change your mind” he said, “I can take you home if it’s all too much for ya. Not the first time a companion chose to leave after a few trips, some leave because they should, or they find someone else, some even… forget about me” Esther turned to face the time lord and smiled softly. “I do wanna go home” she said, “But I’m certainly not leaving just yet” The Doctor looked confused for a moment before coming to realization. She only wanted to go back home to check up on her friends. This made the Doctor smile before a girl walked up to them. “You must be the clever duo I heard so much about” she said Something about her voice sounds rather familiar to the Doctor and the companion. Their heads turn to face the stranger who looked exactly like someone they knew from the past. “Clara?” the two asked in unison, surprising one another before pointing at each other, “You know Clara Oswald?!” “She was an old schoolmate” said Esther, “Well, technically she was an upperclassmen but we grew up together” Clara smiled and raised a brow in confusion, “I’m sorry?” she asked, “I don’t think we’ve ever met before. I guess I really do have that sort of face” “Clara!” called Lestrade, “The people wanna interview with Sherlock” “On it! See you around, clever duo” The Doctor and Esther watched as Clara left to deal with the reporters, to say they were surprised was an understatement. It was then the Doctor smiled and adjusted his coat, happy to see his impossible girl alive and kicking in this alternate London. “Shall we go then?” he asked, standing up and holding his hand for the girl to take. She gladly took it and paused for a moment, “But what about the Master?” she asked, “Wouldn’t he come back?” “I wouldn’t worry too much right now” said the Doctor, “Our primary focus is to go back to our London and check up on your friends. Allons-y?” “Allons-y”

Next Time on Doctor Who

“Since when have children gone missing in the span of three days?”“Please help me find my big brother! He’s been taken by bad aliens”“Doc, I think I have something that might help”“I didn’t know Daleks came in miniature size”“I am not a Dalek!”“The Child is here!”“Exterminate!!”

#tenth doctor #David Tennant #doctor who #fourteenth doctor #bbc sherlock #benedict cumberbatch #martin freeman #john watson #clara oswald

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panditpremkumarji · 2 months

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psychicreadingsuk · 1 year

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Exploring the Best Mediums in the UK for Creative Enthusiasts

Introduction

The United Kingdom has a rich artistic and creative heritage, boasting a diverse array of mediums through which artists can express themselves. From traditional forms to contemporary innovations, the UK offers a vibrant platform for creative enthusiasts to explore and showcase their talents. In this article, we will delve into some of the best mediums uk that cater to a wide range of artistic interests.

1.Visual Arts: Painting and Sculpture

The UK has a long-standing tradition of producing exceptional painters and sculptors. Cities like London, Edinburgh, and Glasgow house renowned art institutions, galleries, and museums that celebrate visual arts. The Royal Academy of Arts in London, for instance, hosts prestigious exhibitions that showcase both classic and contemporary artworks. Additionally, the Tate Modern and Tate Britain offer extensive collections of British and international art, making them must-visit destinations for art enthusiasts.

2.Literature: Writing and Publishing

The UK's literary heritage is illustrious, with countless famous authors hailing from its shores. From Shakespeare to J.K. Rowling, the country has produced literary giants. Literary festivals are held throughout the UK, such as the Hay Festival in Wales and the Edinburgh International Book Festival, providing writers and readers with a platform to engage in discussions, readings, and workshops. Moreover, the UK's publishing industry is robust, offering numerous opportunities for emerging writers to get their works published.

Read Also :- Psychic telephone.

3.Performing Arts: Theater and Music

London's West End is synonymous with world-class theater productions. The UK theater scene is thriving, offering a wide spectrum of shows, from classic plays to contemporary musicals. The Edinburgh Festival Fringe is another prominent event, allowing performers of all kinds to showcase their talents. In the realm of music, the UK has played an instrumental role in shaping various genres, including rock, pop, classical, and electronic music. Iconic venues like the Royal Albert Hall and Abbey Road Studios continue to attract artists and music aficionados from around the world.

4.Film and Television

The UK's influence on the film and television industry cannot be overstated. London, in particular, has been a backdrop for numerous blockbuster films and acclaimed TV series. The British Film Institute (BFI) preserves and promotes the country's film heritage, offering screenings, exhibitions, and resources for filmmakers. Additionally, institutions like the National Film and Television School nurture emerging talents, contributing to the continued growth of the industry.

5.Digital Arts: Animation and Game Development

With the rise of technology, digital arts have gained significant traction. The UK is home to innovative animation studios and game development companies that have produced globally recognized content. Events like the London Film and Comic Con celebrate digital art forms, bringing together creators and enthusiasts. The government's support for the digital creative sector has further facilitated its growth and success.

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Conclusion

The United Kingdom's artistic landscape is a tapestry woven with a myriad of mediums, each offering a unique platform for creative expression. From the traditional realms of painting and literature to the cutting-edge fields of digital arts, the UK continues to foster an environment where creative enthusiasts can flourish. With its rich history, cultural diversity, and unwavering commitment to artistic endeavors, the UK remains a powerhouse in the global creative scene.

#Best Mediums-UK

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tipsycad147 · 1 year

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CHEIRO – THE FATHER OF MODERN PALMISTRY

Cheiro, (pronounced K’i-ro) born William John Warner (November 1, 1866 – October 8, 1936) was the father of modern palmistry. He was also known professionally as Count Louis Hamon. Cheiro was without any doubt an unusually gifted astrologer and palmist and provided modern-day palmists with an amazing body of reference work.

Cheiro was an Irish astrologer and a well-known figure in the budding occult world of the early 20th century. He was born to William and Margaret Warner in a village outside Dublin. Throughout his professional life, he maintained several pseudonyms including Count Louis Hamon, Count Leigh de Hamong, and most famous name, Cheiro. As you might have figured out, the name Cheiro is derived from the word cheiromancy, which means palmistry. He was a clairvoyant who taught palmistry, astrology, and Chaldean numerology. During his career, he circulated in the circle of very famous people worldwide. His divination skills were heralded and he was known to make impactful predictions connected to his clients.

As a young man, Cheiro traveled to Bombay, India. There he met Guru Chitpavan Brahmin, who allowed him to study ancient texts about palmistry. He spent two years immersed in developing his own skills as a palmist. He then returned to Europe, but not to his homeland, instead setting up a palm reading practice in London, England. His first client was Arthur Balfour, who was a member of the new Society for Psychical Research. This group was researching all types of psychic activity throughout England. Mr. Balfour was quite impressed with his reading, so much that he told all his friends, who were quite influential at the time. Word of mouth brought Cherio fame and fortune, especially with the upper classes. He quickly became known as one of the most popular and influential seers of his time across Europe and in America. The accuracy of his predictions was the key reason that many famous celebrities and members of royalty consulted him on a wide variety of topics.

The Hands of Celebrities

Cheiro read the palms of Sir Austen Chamberlain, Mark Twain, Dame Nellie Melba, Oscar Wilde, Grover Cleveland, Thomas Edison, Sarah Bernhardt, Mata Hari and the Prince of Wales to name a few. Not only did he read the palms of famous individuals, but he also documented those sessions and made palm prints of their hands. As part of the overall experience, he kept a journal in which he would ask patrons to write personal thoughts on their experience with their readings. Mark Twain agreed to sit for a reading, even though he was skeptical of palmistry. He was so impressed with the accuracy of his reading, he made use of palmistry in one of his stories called, ‘Pudd’n Head Wilson’. He wrote a wonderful statement in Cherio’s journal stating how moved he was by the experience.

He correctly predicted that the Jews would return to Palestine and the country would again be called Israel. He also predicted the date of Queen Victoria’s death, the year and month when King Edward VII would die, and the assassination of Italy’s King Humbert. These are just a few of the accurate predictions that he made about world leaders. He became so popular that he stayed in America, Hollywood specifically, and saw over a dozen client per day until his death in 1936 following a heart attack.

Written Works

Cheiro amassed a great fortune writing books on palmistry, astrology, numerology and the occult. Many of his works are still in print today and they have been vital to palmists still today.

Cheiro’s Written Works

Numerology Cheiro’s Book of Numbers – 1926

Palmistry Cheiro’s Language of the Hand (first self-published in 1894) Cheiro’s Guide to the Hand – 1892 You and Your Hand – 1931 Palmistry for All – 1910 The Cheiro Book of Fate and Fortune – 1971 Cheiro’s Complete Palmistry (Count Louis Harmon) – 1968

Astrology Where were you Born? – 1930 Cheiro’s You and Your Star: The Book of the Zodiac – 1934 Cheiro’s World Predictions – 1925 Cheiro’s Memoirs: The Reminiscences of a Society Palmist Titanic’s Last Secrets True Ghost Stories (attested tales of paranormal experiences)

Fiction A Study of Destiny (also published as The Hand of Fate, first released in 1898)

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astroshankaruk · 1 year

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Psychic reading is extracting necessary details from the past, present, and future of an individual’s life. It is famous because of its accuracy. During the session, a psychic will connect themselves with your energy through various techniques, make a polite conversation with you and bring the answers to your questions. Psychic reading in London is special because here, a reader can answer any question you ask, no matter when you’re going. It would be from their past, present, and future.

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visionarygu · 2 years

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A few things to expect from your psychic session

A psychic session is an opportunity for individuals to connect with a famous psychic in UK who claims to have intuitive abilities that can provide insights into their lives, relationships, careers, health, and other areas of interest. The session can be conducted in person, over the phone, or through online video conferencing. Here are a few things you might expect from your psychic session:

A warm and welcoming environment:

A fortune teller UK strives to create a warm and welcoming environment that helps you feel comfortable and relaxed. They may offer you a beverage or snack, engage in some small talk, and ask you about your reason for seeking their services.

A focus on your questions and concerns:

Life coaching in Uk is typically centred around the questions and concerns that you bring to the table. The psychic may use various techniques to tune into your energy and connect with your spirit guides, ancestors, or deceased loved ones to provide guidance and insights.

An emphasis on spiritual and intuitive insights:

Unlike traditional counselling or therapy sessions, couples psychic reading UK often relies on spiritual and intuitive insights that are beyond the scope of rational or empirical evidence. You may receive messages, symbols, or impressions that resonate with your current circumstances, past experiences, or future possibilities.

A variety of divination tools and techniques:

Psychics often use a variety of divination tools and techniques to enhance their intuition and provide more detailed and accurate insights. These may include tarot cards, crystal balls, pendulums, numerology, astrology, mediumship, card reading UK, among others.

A non-judgmental and empathetic approach:

Most psychics adopt a non-judgmental and empathetic approach that values your unique experiences and perspective. They may offer guidance, but ultimately, they leave the decision-making process up to you.

An opportunity for personal growth and transformation:

A psychic session can be an opportunity for personal growth and transformation as it can help you gain clarity, direction, and insight into your life. You may leave the session feeling more empowered, inspired, and confident about the choices you make.

It is important to note that not all psychics are the same, and the quality of their services can vary widely. Before scheduling a session, it's a good idea to research different psychics and read reviews from past clients to find one that resonates with your needs and preferences. It's also essential to keep an open mind and maintain realistic expectations about what a clairvoyant London can offer.

For more info:-

Spiritual Body Healing

Love and Relationship Reading

psychic reading London

Visit our social media links:-

Source URL:- https://sites.google.com/view/love-reading-online-ontario/home

#psychic reading London

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jairams-posts · 2 years

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The Top Ways to Succeed as in Astrologer

It is important to know the top ways to succeed in astrologers in order to be an effective astrologer. There are many benefits of being an astrologer. Astrologers have a lot of freedom, and they can work from anywhere.

The first way is to be a good listener and ask lots of questions. The second way is to always be professional and take your job seriously. The third way is to research your topic thoroughly and learn about your clients’ needs.

Astrology is a science that has been practiced for centuries. It is the study of the movements and relative positions of celestial objects as a means for divining information about human affairs and terrestrial events.

Astrologers in London, UK use their knowledge of astrology to offer various services such as horoscope readings, tarot card readings, palm readings, psychic readings, and more.

The best way to succeed in being an astrologer is to have a deep understanding of the subject matter, which requires time and patience.

Astrologers have been around for centuries and have always been an important part of society. This is because astrology is a science that can be used to predict the future.

A good way to succeed as an astrologer is to make sure that you are always keeping up with the latest news in your field. There are many different ways that you can do this, such as reading magazines or blogs on a regular basis or following social media pages related to your field.

Another important thing to do if you want to be successful in this career is to make sure that you are constantly learning more about it. There are many different ways for you to do this, such as taking classes at your local community college or university or even taking online courses through sites like Coursera or Udemy.

Best Famous Astrologer in London, UK, Manchester. Astrologer-Jairam

All Astrology Services, Best Astrologer. Jairam is one of the most famous astrologers in London. He has more than ten years of experience in this field and now he is doing astrology services in London as well as in the UK. Here people can get solutions to all kind of problems related to love and marriage and health.

#astrologer in london #astrology #astrologer

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psychicreadingsuk · 1 year

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Top Psychics In The UK

The Creme de la Creme of Psychic Talent: Top Psychics in the UK

The realm of psychic phenomena has intrigued humanity for centuries, with individuals claiming to possess unique intuitive abilities to perceive information beyond the ordinary senses. In the United Kingdom, a land steeped in mysticism and folklore, there are several remarkable psychics whose reputations transcend borders. Let's delve into the captivating world of these top psychics, celebrated for their remarkable insights and uncanny abilities.

Top psychics in the uk

Sally Morgan: With a career spanning over four decades, Sally Morgan is a well-respected name in the psychic community. Known as "Britain's Best-Loved Psychic," she has mesmerized audiences with her astonishing mediumship and clairvoyance. Sally's warm and compassionate approach has won her a massive following, including celebrities and royalty, seeking guidance and solace from her abilities.

Derek Acorah (In Memoriam): The late Derek Acorah was one of the most famous mediums in the UK. His appearances on popular television shows like "Most Haunted" brought him into the spotlight, where he showcased his exceptional skills in communicating with the spirit world. Derek's charm and genuine desire to help others made him a beloved figure in the psychic community.

Psychic Sisters - Jayne Wallace: Jayne Wallace, along with her team of gifted psychics, founded the Psychic Sisters. This London-based psychic haven has garnered a reputation for providing accurate readings and spiritual services. Jayne's diverse skills in tarot reading, crystal healing, and mediumship have earned her a loyal clientele, including numerous celebrities.

Gordon Smith: A true mediumship maestro, Gordon Smith is renowned for his ability to connect with departed loved ones and deliver evidential messages from the other side. His down-to-earth nature and unwavering dedication to his craft have made him a cherished mentor to aspiring psychics, ensuring the continuation of his legacy.

Michele Knight: With a vast online presence, Michele Knight has captivated audiences worldwide with her insightful readings and astrological predictions. As an accomplished psychic, astrologer, and tarot card reader, Michele's warm and uplifting demeanor has earned her the trust of many seeking guidance in their lives.

Sally Buxton: Known for her innate ability to communicate with animals, Sally Buxton has carved a unique niche in the psychic world. Referred to as the "Pet Psychic," she has helped countless pet owners understand their furry friends better and provided closure for those who have lost beloved companions.

Kim Alexis: A gifted clairvoyant, Kim Alexis, possesses the rare talent of remote viewing. Her accurate descriptions and detailed insights into distant locations and events have earned her a reputation as one of the UK's most intriguing psychics.

Read More Info :- Top Psychics In The UK.

These top psychics in the UK have demonstrated their extraordinary abilities time and again, captivating audiences and offering guidance to those in need. It's essential to approach psychic readings with an open mind, understanding that each practitioner has a unique style and expertise. While the allure of the psychic world remains ever-present, these gifted individuals continue to inspire and provide comfort through their exceptional talents, leaving an indelible mark on the lives they touch.

#Top Psychics In-The-UK

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writingsfromhome · 3 years

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Crystal Clear

A/N: Here’s some fluff, friends to lovers I’ve had going on while I work on something bigger :))

----------------------------------------

“Y/N,” a strange man calls my name. I look him up and down but I don’t think I know him.

“Who’s asking?”

“Y/N, it’s me? Harry.”

“Oh,” I laugh and greet him how I would have if I’d recognized him under all those layers, in a great big hug. “Your disguise is brilliant!”

“It’s not a disguise,” he says into his coat. “It’s bloody cold here.”

“Coldest day so far,” I accept the hot chocolate from the vendor and ask him for another, Harry could use one, poor thing. His plans this week were changed last minute, and since he was in New York City where his best childhood friend lived, he decided to actually hang out with me. Ever since he got famous, it was hard to catch time with him.

“Did the cold freeze all the English out of you? You’re not even wearing mittens,” Harry accepts his own cup from the vendor.

“I’m got them in my pocket,” I point to the bulge on the side of my coat as we step aside and make our way deeper into the winter festival that was at Bryant Park. “Don’t insult me, I can still make a better cup of tea than you ever could.”

“There she is,” I hear the smile in Harry’s voice more than I see it. It truly was ridiculous--not only was he wearing the thickest parka I’d ever seen, he also had on a beanie and a scarf, as well as knit gloves that held tightly to his hot chocolate.

“I’m always here, you’re just too busy to see me.”

“Not this again,” he groans. I was always giving him grief every time he touched down to NYC but didn’t pop by for a visit. I knew he had a hectic schedule, and even though I wasn’t that bothered I still liked to tease him.

“It’s true, you come to the city so often but I see you once a year. And maybe again when I’m in London if I get lucky.”

“I’m busy Y/N, I talk to you all the time!”

“I know,” I elbow him. “I just like to rile you up.”

“Well now that you’ve got that out of your system,” he tugs my hat over my eyes. “Where are we going next?”

I push it back up, “I thought we could just wander the shops, then get on the skating rink if you’re not frozen to death.”

“Alright I’ve got to pick some gifts up anyway let’s see what’s here.”

We make a good team as we visit stands selling ornaments and kitschy decor, handmade gifts, and hot cider. We sift through exactly what we might want, or what the other’s looking for. And with the light dusting of snow coming down, and the bright lights strung around the Park, it was like walking in a Christmas movie.

“Look at this,” I point ahead. We’d nearly visited all the stands and holiday shops but a festive psychic advertises their services in a small glass booth. “Should we?”

“It’s a waste of money,” Harry scoffs. “She’s just going to read your body language.”

“She might be the real deal-”

“You can’t be serious-”

“C’mon!” I tug his gloves hand and it takes a few but he stumbles towards me. It’s slightly warmer inside and I notice the space heater running in the corner. “At least it’s warm” I whisper to Harry.

“You really want to do this?” He asks one last time.

“It’s just $10-”

“$20 for the two,” the woman almost shifts out of the wall and I hide my jump with a laugh. There’s a curtain behind her, I realize, she must have stepped out.

“It’s just me,” I clarify.

She eyes Harry and Harry eyes her back. “You look familiar.”

“Just have that face,” he shrugs, burrowing into his scarf. “I’m just here to watch.”

She stares at him a moment longer before settling at the small table. I flash Harry a smile before sitting down myself, setting my bags onto the floor.

“Palm reading, cards, what will it be dear?” The psychic asks. I remember the sign out front said cards would be more than having my palm read so I opt for the cheaper option.

“Hm,” she says thoughtfully as she traces the lines on my palm. I wriggle my eyebrows at Harry and he rolls his eyes, but he stays watching her like a hawk. It was cute how overprotective he got sometimes. The psychic glances up to catch him watching her, she then glances at me and tilts her head.

“I see longevity, in life and love, a few bumps but you’re a strong persistent woman.”

Harry grumbles behind me and I resist the urge to say something to him.

“I see success after hard, hard work. But a big success that will change the course of your career.”

“Wow, how soon?” I ask.

“Mmm, after a big milestone. Turning 30?” she continues to examine my hand. “I see a second life later in life, with kids...just one no maybe two children.”

“How about her love life?” Harry asks. “Her last love s’not too nice.”

“Seriously Harry?” I turn to glare this time. He’s grinning with flushed cheeks, knowing it was a sore spot he liked to say i told you so to. It was true, he had told me so about my 3 year relationship but I’d ignored him.

“Your love life,’ the woman speaks up. “Shows me two great loves. One cuts short, the other is as long as your life line.”

“Ooh,” I lean in, interested. “I think I know about the one that was cut short. Tell me about the second!”

“This second...” she traces my palm and I feel a tingle. “This second love is very close, a bit rocky but it will last.”

“A bit rocky?”

“Hm,” she chews her bottom lip. “Time, distance...it will make it rocky. But it lasts.”

“So how close is close?” I ask eagerly.

“Close,” she says with a smile that tells me I wasn’t getting anything else out of her.

“That’s a bit vague isn’t it?” Harry pipes up from the back.

“The future isn’t always crystal clear,” she says without looking up at him.

“Lay off,” I scold him.

“It’s okay, I get nonbelievers all the time.” She laughs. “That will be $10 dear.” When I hand her the bill she stops me as she takes it. “A little free advice?”

“Sure.” I pick up the bags I placed on the floor earlier.

"Don’t be so focused on the life you want that you don’t see the life you have around you.”

“I’ve actually told her that before,” Harry decides we want more of his unsolicited opinions. “Maybe there is something true to all of this.”

“Thanks,” I pocket her words for later. Harry was right, he’d said something along those lines to me before, especially when it came to giving up control and going with the flow on trips and events with him. I always declined his offers, we lived a modest life growing up and accepting these gifts from him always felt so excessive. I wanted to make my own way in the world, but Harry always had something to say. “And sorry for his attitude, he’s not always this rude.”

“Yeah,” Harry shifts forward. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m a lot nicer usually.”

“I know,” she smiles.

“She’s psychic,” I remind him.

“I’m also online,” she laughs. “Can I get a picture?”

Harry eyes me, before going in for a selfie with her. I know he usually didn’t mind getting asked in smaller settings but he’d admitted it was something he was still getting used to. It had been a couple years since he became so famous, in such a short amount of time I went from being able to go down to a local pub with my best friend to schedules and security details and a whole other list of complications. Sometimes I hated it, mostly I was happy for him.

“Another day, another fan.” I tell Harry after we walk away from the psychic and he flips me off. “Should we get something to eat and get out of the cold?”

“God yes,” Harry shivers. “Can we just go to yours?”

“Let’s go,” I loop my arm through Harry’s.

Harry wants instant warmth so he hails a cab and we pick up takeout once we reach my neighbourhood. Harry had been here a few times, my roommate had gotten used to the fact that I was best friends with him, and sometimes he preferred to stay here when he wanted to be anonymous. Paparazzi sometimes crowded outside his hotel when word leaked he was there.

We eat ourselves into a food coma and Harry decides to stay the night, not wanting to face the cold again. Since our living room couch sprained his neck the only time he’d slept there, he usually crashed in my bed. His head barely hits the pillow before he’s snoring, I guess the jet lag finally caught up.

***

I jerk out of sleep, a crashing noise followed by swearing catches my attention.

“I think your roommate dropped something,” I hear from beside me. I turn my face to get a facefull of Harry’s thigh tattoos.

“Y’think?” I croak and shift backwards to see his face. He’s sitting up in bed and scrolling through his phone.

“Guess which psychic is officially internet-famous?” Harry asks dryly.

“Hm?” I’m still calming my heart from waking up so suddenly so it takes a moment to register Harry’s words. “What?”

He shoves his phone in my face, the selfie he took with the psychic yesterday is posted on social media with over half a million likes. He swipes away and a lot of his tag is filled with news outlets and fan accounts spamming the picture. He pulls it back to read a heading: “Harry Styles visits Psychic for ideas on his next album. There’s also Harry Styles rumored to be connected to the Occult...I don’t know what that means. Psychic tells all on Harry Styles reading.”

“How did that picture circulate?” I rub my eyes and sit up beside him. “And where is all of this coming from?”

“She has a Twitter, and she posted the picture.” He shows me, it’s there with the caption A handsome face showed up to my booth at the Bryant Park Market tonight. Get your future told, 5pm to 9pm 7 days a week.

I can’t help but laugh, she was a business woman and she really took the opportunity to sell her service.

“It’s not funny Y/N,” Harry looks furious so I cover my mouth and squint at his screen as he scrolls. A ton of people are responding asking about his future or what he came there for. Amongst them, she responds to only one person: His love life was involved.

My jaw drops, “That’s such a lie! She read me my love life, and life lines!”

“I told you she was a fraud,” Harry jerks the phone back to him.

“She lied for sales, but doesn’t mean she didn’t tell the truth yesterday.”

“If she lied about this she lied about it all and you wasted $10. She only talked about your love life, not mine...”

I remember her words, my second love was very close...could she have meant...

I glance at Harry and he seemed to have followed the same train of thought because we lock eyes, his probably just as wide as mine.

“D’you think?” he says just as I say “Was she...?”

We immediately burst out laughing as the tension comes to a head and bubbles over in a safe trickle.

“Is that what she was trying to say?” I say when I’ve finally caught my breath, my stomach hurt from laughing this hard.

“I guess when she said close she meant close,” Harry’s flat on his back from laughing. “Quite literal.”

“And you were calling her out on being so vague.”

“I’ve got to give it to her,” he shuts his phone off and throws it onto the covers between us, releasing the annoyance. “She’s a good businesswoman.”

“I was thinking the same thing but I thought you might kill me if I said that,” I admit.

We lay on the rumpled covers in silence, I think about everything else she said. The potential of it all is tarnished by the idea of Harry being my second love, for life. It was so ridiculous, unless by love she meant the way I love him now. As my best friend. Our lives were so different, there was no way it could ever work. Not to mention...he was my best friend since forever.

“Have you ever thought about it?” Harry asks out of the blue.

“Thought about what?” I prop myself on my elbow.

“Us, like...the way she predicted?”

“Together together?” I can’t help but laugh. “No never, you’re my best friend!” I recognize the flash of hurt so I backtrack a little. “No offense Harry, I love you but could you imagine?”

“I have,” he says it so quietly as I lay back down. “What?” I ask. He shrugs, “I’m surprised you haven’t. We’ve been friends since...we were 7. You’re saying you never thought about it?”

“No,” I shake my head. “Actually I haven’t. When...what did you think about?”

“I dunno,” he fiddles with his rings. “Like for school dances, when I didn’t have a date I thought about asking you as more than a friend...thought about where that could lead. Or every time you had your heart broke. I wanted to take the pain away and just show you what you deserved.”

“Harry I...” it was sweet, what he was saying. But he never gave a single clue about it the entire time we grew up. He was always chasing girls who looked nothing like me, so I always thought that’s what his type was. Never did I think about anything more with him.

“Not-not recently though,” he forces a laugh. “Just when we were kids.”

“That’s sweet Harry. I had no idea.”

He shrugs, and sits up.

“No seriously I...that’s so sweet. But just so you know, you have shown me what a good man can be. Just by being the best friend ever.”

“Aw,” he swipes my cheek as he gets up. “That’s cute. I don’t know if I’ve done such a good job when you’ve only dated knobs.”

I could recognize his defense mechanism--turning it into a big joke. But he leaves the room before I can call him out and I’m left sitting in the mess of what he’d just told me. It’s not that it was awkward or a bad thing, but suddenly it felt tense and the tension triggered an anxious feeling in my chest.

I decide to get out of my room and find my roommate cleaning up the remains of her broken mug. I offer to clean the spill as she dresses to go out for her run. Helping her distracts me, and when I hear Harry leave the bathroom I lock myself in, and try some breathing exercises to clear the anxiety creeping up. When I realize I was trying to avoid Harry, I scold myself. This was ridiculous and funny! Harry wanted to ask me out when we were kids, it was cute, and that was it. The psychic was a fake anyway, nothing she said meant anything.

I head back to my room where Harry’s made the bed. I change into trousers and my favourite fisherman sweater, and find him having coffee at our small kitchen table with his phone on speaker as he talks to someone. His legs barely fit underneath, so they’re sprawled to the side. He’s still shirtless, and my attention snags on his torso.

I shake myself out of my thoughts as I bump into the kitchen island, and glance up to see that although he was talking to the person on the phone, his eyes had been on me...while my eyes were on his abs. Oh god, I cringe. I try to act casual, mouthing if he wanted breakfast but he shakes his head and points to the call he’s having.

I make myself a toast and try to ignore what just happened but it only adds to the tension from this morning. When he gets off his call he brings his cup up to the sink.

“I think I need another cup.”

“Be my guest,” I move aside. “You sure you don’t want breakfast?”

“Are you going to feed me avocado flax seed quinoa toast?” he teases.

“There’s no quinoa.” I correct, crossing my arms. “But...yes.”

“I’ll take this banana,” he holds the lone banana on the counter. “I’ve got to be in East Harlem by noon, that’s what the call was about.”

“Aw,” I hated saying goodbye. “Are you busy the rest of your stay?”

“I can make it back here,” he says.

“Do whatever you need to do,” I say. “I’m used to being discarded after you hang out with me in the city.”

“I don’t do that!” he reaches behind me to slot his cup in and set the machine to grind his beans. I can smell my shampoo on him, he must’ve showered. “If you want me back, you can just say that.”

The morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen window leaves no room for shadows; the shift in the mood is clear as the daylight streaming in. Or maybe I was reading too much into his words.

“I always want you back,” I look up to his height now that he’s standing so close, and the kitchen tightens further.

We’re stuck in a tableau; with my back against the fridge looking up at him as he gazes down with a curious expression. My mind grows blank the longer I stare. No one says a word, the sound of beans grinding the only noise in the kitchen.

My best friend in the whole world looks torn standing in front of me like this, and as my senses slowly rush back I realize that even if my expression doesn’t show it...I was torn. Because out of nowhere, all I can think about are all the questions I ever shoved away in the dark: what would it feel like if I kissed him right now? And what would have happened to us if he had asked me out to our school dance? Would we still be best friends? Would we have cut each other out? How many universes were we still good together like this? How many universes were we good together as more than this?

An urge to touch his face, make sure this was real, takes over me. But as soon as my fingers brush his cheek he snaps out of his trance and stumbles back like I’d burned him.

He forces a laugh. “I really do need that coffee.”

“Right,” I turn to the machine to put the grinds into their slot but I yank too hard and the freshly ground coffee flies out towards me. “Shit!”

“What happ-” Harry takes one look at what’s happened and turns away, his shoulders shaking.

“I can see you right in front of me laughing!” I shout. “Help me!”

“It’s all over you Y/N,” he turns around, tears in his eyes. “Give me this, I’ll put it far away from you.” He takes the remaining grinds and sets it down. I brush away what’s closest to my eyes so I can see and try to shake it off my sweater but they stick to the fibers of the knit.

“Great,” I grumble. “This is dry clean only.”

“It’s in your hair,” he runs his fingers through the strands that hang over my shoulder. I shake my head to dislodge the grinds; his fingers brush my neck away and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Uhm, that should be most of it.”

“It’s not out of this sweater,” I pout. “Screw dry clean, why did I think I could buy dry cleaning clothes?”

“I can drop it off on the way out today?” he offers.

“That means you’re coming back to drop it off to me?!” I ask hopefully.

His expression softens, “Y/N I’m coming back to your flat. I promise.”

“He promises!” I shout. Even though things were a bit awkward this morning, I got to spend more time with my hard-to-catch best friend and for that I was over the moon.

“We could also try to vacuum the sweater?” Harry suggests.

“So you don’t have to come back with dry clean?” I tease. “I’m not letting you get out of your promise, let me give it to you before you change your mind.” I tug my top off and ball it up, shoving it in his hands. It falls to the floor when he doesn’t hold it.

“Hello?” I look up and he’s a deer in the headlights. “Harry...”

“I can’t do this right now,” he takes a step back. I get the sweater from the ground and hold it out to him again.

“Do you want to wipe the kitchen floor with the sweater too? Take it!” I sigh. “Harry are you really acting so chaste about seeing a girl in her bra?”

“It’s-” he decides to stop mid-word. “You’re not just any girl Y/N, I’ve already made it clear.”

Now it’s my turn to stare--he hadn’t made it clear. “You said you only felt something when you were younger...”

“And you believed me?”

I realize I didn’t, but I wanted to believe him so I hadn’t questioned it. “Well it’s not the first time you’ve seen me in a bra. Can you take the damn sweater?”

“Yeah I can I’m just...” he seems to calm down a bit, enough to step towards me and take it. “I didn��t have to face this conflicted feeling in me if I didn’t see you often. I can just be the best friend. But now, with the whole psychic thing and you in--like this in your kitchen and I--I’m remembering how much I just want to...”

“Kiss me,” I say.

“Yeah...” he looks away.

“No, I’m telling you to kiss me.” I clarify. His expression would’ve made me laugh if my heart wasn’t beating so fast. I couldn’t believe I was being this impulsive.

“Really? You’re not just saying that cuz of this morning?”

“Fine,” I step out of his reach and cross my arms to hide my shaking hands. “If you don’t want to kiss me-”

He pulls me back too quickly and I bump into his chest. “I never said that.” He says in a tone I’d never heard from him before, it’s serious and sexy and it sends tingles through my body. I press myself up against him and he finally, finally, kisses me. Every bit of tension and anxiety the day had built up releases in the single moment his lips cover mine.

How had I waited this long?

The kiss is gentle, delicate like he’s still not entirely sure I want the same thing he does. I show him I do by using my tongue to open his mouth slowly and the hesitation disappears immediately. We’re a fighter jet taking off from there; I don’t know where I end and where he begins as he walks me to the kitchen island and lifts me onto it, our limbs tangling together, His hands roam down the side of my body, but he stays in the safe zones until I unclasp my bra.

“Oh hell no,” my roommate’s voice interrupts us from behind. I hold my bra close and turn. She stands at the entryway, shaking her head. “Not here. Not on our kitchen island. You two have a room literally 10 feet away...”

“Oops,” I say quietly which seems to set Harry off. My roommate is still shaking her head but I see the smile on her face. I’d caught her hooking up on multiple occasions so it wasn’t anything new. But I didn’t do this often. I jump down, apologizing to her. “Harry’s going to clean the coffee off the floor...I-I’ll find a shirt.”

“Mhm,” she closes her bedroom door and I look over at Harry who’s crouching on the floor in tears.

“This is all your fault!” I whisper but he tugs me down to where he is and holds my face as he kisses me.

“I know you two aren’t behind the island,” my roommate’s voice comes out again. I stay there as her footsteps move to the bathroom and the door closes behind her.

“I hate you,” I skirt out of his reach, and rush to my room yelling another sorry as I head back and find a top. Harry appears in my room as I put it on.

“I guess that was a good time for her to walk in on before it got too far?” he still has a stupid grin on his face.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” my cheeks were burning and even more so that Harry was elated.

“I’ve actually got to head out now.”

I pout but he kisses my pout instead. He promises he’ll be back in the evening and I let him go with one more kiss, my mind catching up with everything that just happened.

Oh my god.

***

It’s nearly 8 by the time I’m done running all my errands--taking holidays off for work was usually a good decision for me. I had a big family and picking up all the holiday bits before I flew back home was always a big job. I take an Uber home, I couldn’t handle a 40 minutes trip back home carrying everything home on the subway.

I call out to my roommate when I get in but she doesn’t respond. I check her door and it’s open and dark, the bathroom is also empty. She must have evening plans.

I open my door to a surprise. Harry is sprawled on my bed. He jerks awake when I settle my bags down.

“Y/N?” he squints as I turn the light on.

“How did you get in here?” I shrug my coat off.

“Y’roommate let me in before she left,” he rubs his eyes. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep...I had a whole thing planned.”

I’d gone over the whole morning during my errands, surprised and excited and nervous about this new step for us. But I continued to think about what the psychic said, our love lines extended alongside my life line. Even though there wasn’t much comfort or trust in a psychic who used a photo opp as a marketing opp, what she said had come true. And I put my faith in that, calming my nerves about this new step potentially ruining our friendship forever.

“Was that okay?” Harry sits up. “She didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Oh no that’s fine,” I unwrap my scarf and stand at the foot of my bed. “I really wasn’t sure if you were coming back.”

“Of course I would,” he reaches for my hand. “I wouldn’t leave you after this morning, I’m not that flighty.”

“Well we never really got to talk about it,” I say as I sit down. I’d texted him during the day but it never showed he read it, I wasn’t sure how to read into that; finding him passed out on my room meant he was probably on the go all day.

“Are you okay with this?” he says with such concern, I nearly tear up. This was making me way too emotional.

“I am,” I smile at my best friend in the whole world. “I just don’t want to go too fast.”

“We won’t,” he promises as he holds his arms out. I lean in towards his solid chest and he wraps his arms around me. I feel his breath on my cheek, then his lips in my hair. “I’m yours for eternity Y/N, we can take it as slow or fast as you want.”

It was a good thing to say, and I believe him entirely.

We eventually untangle ourselves to get food in us, and even though things are different, they’re also not. We still pick out the same parts of our food to give the other person, we still talk the same shit and laugh at the same jokes. But his hands grasps mine and his thumb brushes over my knuckles absentmindedly. His eyes stay steady on me as I talk like I’m someone new he’s exploring. We kiss after dinner, but we also load the dishwasher and laugh about the one time I’d managed to burn soup from a can. Eventually we end in my bedroom, where we lay together, our conversation growing quieter by the minute, the space between us growing smaller.

And even though we’d slept like this a hundred times before, it’s different now. I can feel it in every atom of my being, I was his and he was mine. And I don’t know how long it’s been like this for it to feel so easy, but accepting it was a no brainer, like accepting the sky was blue or the sun was hot. I remember the advice the psychic gave, I was following it: living the life I had around me even though it wasn’t the life I thought I would have.

There were a million things Harry and I had to figure out to make this work--I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But I did know that it was right, it was true, and it was going to be forever.

The future may not be crystal clear, but my future with this man was.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #fic #writingsfromhome #friends to lovers #standalone #holiday fic #ignore any grammar or errors pls ty

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visionarygu · 2 years

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What is Psychic Reading in the UK?

Recognizing the truth may be painful, but it is better than closing one's eyes. In such a circumstance, a clairvoyant may be able to reveal the truth before it happens to you! A fortune teller is someone who claims to foretell future events or provide insight into a person's life using divination techniques such as tarot card reading, palmistry,astrology, etc. A fortune teller in the UK may work at a psychic fair, in a shop, or offer private readings, the most well-known varieties are:

Couples Psychic Reading: A couples psychic reading in the UK is a session designed to help couples in understanding and improving their relationship. The psychic's intuitive powers may be used to help with communication, trust, and compatibility. The psychic may employ tarot cards, astrology, numerology, or clairvoyance throughout the reading to get insight into the dynamics of the relationship, as well as the couple's unique energies and prospective future together. A couples psychic reading's purpose is to help the couple in understanding and navigating any issues they may be encountering, and to provide suggestions for establishing a stronger, more harmonious relationship.

Life Coaching: Life coaching in the UKis a profession that involves helping individuals in setting and achieving personal and professional goals. They can help clients with a wide range of issues, including professional development, relationships, fitness, health and wellbeing, and personal growth. A life coach is a qualified professional who has finished a coaching course of study and holds a professional certification. They can work with clients in person, on the phone, or online. Coaches employ various techniques and strategies to help clients in identifying their strengths and shortcomings, setting goals, and devising a plan to attain them. It is important to choose a coach who is qualified and experienced, and who aligns with your values and goals. Life coaching in the UK can be a powerful tool for personal and professional development, helping individuals to make meaningful changes in their lives and achieve their goals.

Conclusion:

There are many famous psychics in the UK who offer their services to the public, and have been practising for over 30 years, having a large fan following. But it is important to note that fortune telling is not a scientifically proven practice and should be approached with caution and expertise. So, if you are looking for an expert clairvoyant in London, then look no further but Psychicvisionarygu.com.

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#couples psychic reading UK

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freddiesaysalright · 4 years

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Just Like a Woman - Part 1

A Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary: You and Roger were once in love when you were young. Only, he went on to be a rock star, and you went on to be a lawyer. Now, quite against your will, you’re representing him in his divorce.

Word Count: 3.5k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @moon-stars-soul, @im-an-adult-ish, @ixchel-9275, @jennyggggrrr, @zyanmaik, @mypassionfortrash, @a19103, @madeinheavxn, @beepbeephardy, @lizawritesthings, @qweenly, @blisshemmings If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Here we are! The full first part of my new fic is here! Thanks for all the great feedback on the preview, and I hope you all enjoy this :D

Warning(s): None :)

Part 1 here we go!!!

“You want to sue him?”

“Yes.”

“For his thoughts?”

“Yes.”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Look, I don’t know how exactly things work in America, Miss Thomas, but in England, you can’t sue someone just for thinking about you,” you said as calmly as you could manage.

“It’s not just that he was thinking about me, it’s what he was thinking,” Miss Thomas argued flatly. “I’m penile psychic. I know he was thinking about making love to me, which I find absolutely disgusting and inappropriate. It severely distressed me.”

Her inexpressive face told you she felt nothing, least of all distress.

“I don’t understand what you’re going for here,” you said. “Emotional distress or sexual harassment?”

“Both,” she said.

“Sexual harassment won’t make it,” you explained. “You’re his boss, it’s not designed that way. And let’s say it was, has he actually said anything to you that was inappropriate?”

“No, how many times do I have to say this?” she complained, rolling her eyes. “It was in his thoughts, I know it.”

You sighed. “On both these counts we would need some sort of action. Your supernatural penis abilities won’t hold up in court as proof, it’s that simple.”

“Look, I have money, you’re an attorney, do your job,” she snapped.

“I can’t if I -” you began, but your boss interrupted with three quick raps on your office door.

“Bill, I’m in the middle of a meeting with a client,” you told him.

“Ditch it, that case is rubbish anyway, I’ve got something better for you,” he said.

“Excuse me!” Miss Thomas protested, turning to face him.

“You’re the one who told me to take it!” you argued. “I told you it was rubbish from the start!”

“Hey!” Miss Thomas cried, only to continue being ignored.

“What’s this new case, then?” you asked.

“Believe me, you want it,” Bill continued. “It’s a divorce case, but you’re going to piss yourself when you see who it is.”

“I’m a paying client, you know!” Miss Thomas interjected.

Finally, you looked at her again.

“I’m sorry, Miss Thomas, but we’re just not prepared to take on your case,” you said. “It will be thrown out and frankly, we’d charge you just for wasting our time. Have a good day, now.”

With that, you rose from your seat, walked around your desk, and crossed the room to Bill. Together, you left Miss Thomas in your office. She huffed and stormed after you.

“So, who’s getting divorced and why is it a big deal?” you demanded as you walked with your boss to the conference room.

“This is perhaps the most famous client we’ve ever had,” he said, stopping just outside the door. “Go in.”

Brow furrowed, but excited by the mystery, you reached out a hand to open the door. You pulled it toward you and stepped through. Three people sat at the table, but your eyes were immediately fixed on the one. The blonde man who sat alone. He was reclined, with his feet on the table. He sat up and removed his sunglasses when he saw you. His mouth fell just slightly open.

Yes, you knew who it was. You just wished you didn’t.

Bill blew by you and went to shake the man’s hand.

“Mr. Taylor, this is Y/N Y/L/N, and she’ll be representing you,” he said.

You met Roger Taylor’s gaze for the first time in years. Those blue eyes brought back all of the love you’d once felt. But there was even more pain.

“They’ve slept together.”

You screamed and jumped away from the source of the voice you hadn’t even realized was in the room. You whipped around and saw Miss Thomas behind you.

“I - wh - oh - what are you still doing here?!” you demanded.

“I still want my case covered!” she cried, stamping her foot.

“Hold on, how do you know we’ve slept together?” wondered Roger.

“Like I said,” she returned with a shrug. “I’m penile psychic.”

“Get out!” you shouted.

She eyed you up and down like a hungry tiger before turning on her heel and sweeping out to the lobby. You looked at Bill.

“Sorry, I’m not taking the case,” you said, then you too left the room, only you were heading for your office.

Roger looked at Bill. Bill had a thousand questions, but first, he had to get you back in the room.

“Just a moment, Mr. Taylor,” he said, and jogged after you.

You were just about to close the door, when Bill slapped his hand on it to stop you.

“You have to take the case, Y/N,” he said.

“Why does it have to be me?” you wondered.

“You’re the best divorce attorney in the firm,” he reminded you. “That’s always been your specialty. I understand maybe there’s some history there, but can’t you get past that? He’s...he’s so rich, Y/N.”

“So?”

“So?! We want his money, that’s the reason I started a law firm! If I’m not making money, then what’s the point, really?”

You groaned. “You don’t understand, Bill. This is going to be extremely uncomfortable. Roger and I were in a relationship. For years.”

“Well, time moves on, that’s all over, time to be adults,” Bill said. “You’re doing this.”

You glowered at him. “Fine. But I’m going to complain the whole time.”

“Like that’s any different from normal?” he retorted. “Get in there and get to work.”

Your scowl deepened. Alone this time, you went to the conference room. Roger had resumed his seat at the table and was chewing at his thumb nail. You sighed and entered, notepad and pen in hand.

“Sorry about that,” you said. “We can start the meeting now.”

“No, we can’t,” said Roger. “Y/N, can we talk?”

“No, we can’t,” you replied sharply. “Let’s just begin.”

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m not comfortable with this going forward, knowing that counsel has slept with the client,” the wife’s lawyer said.

His name was Tim Hooper, and he frequently made comments like these.

“Counsel’s discomfort is noted,” you snapped, taking your seat next to Roger.

“Y/N, I really think we should talk,” Roger said.

“No!” you cried, then stopped yourself and cleared your throat. “We need to start this meeting, your wife has waited long enough.”

“Honestly,” the wife said. “It doesn’t matter. We’d have a hard time finding a woman in London Roger hasn’t shagged.”

“Hey!” Roger started, jumping to his feet, but you grabbed his arm and returned him swiftly to his chair.

“There’s no need to get personal, Mrs. Taylor,” you said.

“Dominique,” she corrected. “Or Mrs. Beyrand, if you please.”

“Mrs. Beyrand, I’m grateful that my history with Mr. Taylor is of no consequence to you, but again, we should all be civil to one another,” you said. “Let’s get to the papers, shall we?”

“Yes, let’s,” she agreed.

“So, you’re filing for divorce because Mr. Taylor was unfaithful to you, am I reading this right?” you asked, holding out the paper.

“Yes,” she replied. “While touring, he slept with countless other women.”

“Big surprise there,” you muttered under your breath as you made a note.

Roger’s glare told you that he heard you.

You and Roger ended before you could prove that he cheated on you, though you always suspected it. He had just changed so much.

You continued through the paperwork, since there was some dispute over the house. Dominique wanted to keep living there, but Roger wanted it for himself.

“I bought that house before we were married,” he said. “With money I earned from Queen. Why should you get to keep it?”

“Because you’re never even there!” she insisted. “You’re always in the studio or touring, I’m the one who lives in it!”

“It’s my house!” he argued.

“That you don’t even use!” she shot back. “Why should I uproot the kids when -”

“I didn’t say the kids had to leave, just you,” he cut across her.

“You can’t separate me from the kids, Rog,” she snapped.

“They’re my children too, Dom, and if you think -”

“Okay!” you interrupted. “Okay, everyone settle down. I’m going to do some research and figure out what the law entitles each of you to.”

“I’m not comfortable with the implication that you’ll be taking care of my client’s needs, Miss Y/L/N,” said Tim.

“Then do your job,” you returned. “But I think we need to take a break from this and meet again later this week. How’s Wednesday morning at ten sound? Comfortable enough?”

“That’s fine with me, Tim,” said Dominique.

“We’ll see you Wednesday, then,” he said.

You shook hands with both Tim and Dominique before they left the conference room. Then, it was just you and Roger alone. You looked at the ground, shifting your weight between your feet as you thought of some reason to escape being in his company.

“Look, Y/N, you don’t have to take my case if you don’t want to,” he finally said.

You looked up. “I do actually have to take it. Did you have a problem with the way I handled it?”

“No, you were brilliant, it’s just -”

“Then we’ll continue,” you cut across him.

A beat passed. He bit his lip and looked around the room before finding his way back to you.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

“Now’s not a good time,” you said. “I’m at work.”

“Can we get a drink then?” he wondered. “I feel like we need to clear the air.”

“Roger, we haven’t spoken in years,” you reminded him. “The time for air clearing has long since passed.”

“We’ve known each other since we were six,” he said. “Can’t we be friends again?”

“I dunno…” you trailed off. “You really hurt me, Rog.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I hope you know how sorry I am.”

“Being sorry doesn’t change anything,” you said. “I think it’s best to leave the past where it is. I am your lawyer and you are my client and that’s it.”

“Y/N -” he began, reaching for you.

“Don’t!” you cried, springing away.

His eyes searched yours, and he found you unrelenting.

“Don’t,” you repeated, quietly this time. “I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

Knowing himself to be dismissed, Roger turned and left the room. You let out a slow breath, relief washing over you. There was so much between you and Roger, but you had no desire to air it all out. You were perfectly happy to keep it inside and never deal with it.

“Y/N,” said your assistant, Jane. “Miss Thomas is here again. She’s demanding you take her case.”

Your shoulders slumped as you groaned. “Fuck it, might as well.”

You walked back to your office.

Roger arrived at the studio in a stormy mood. His bandmates knew he and Dominique were splitting, but they had never seen Roger like this. The three of them exchanged worried glances as the drummer started angrily adjusting his set.

“Rog?” questioned John. “How’d it go with the lawyers today?”

“She wouldn’t even talk to me!” Roger exclaimed. “It was ridiculous!”

Brian’s brow furrowed. “I thought Dominique wanted to talk. That was the whole point of getting representation.”

Roger sighed and let his drumstick slip between his fingers and clatter to the floor.

“No, not Dom,” he said. “My lawyer. It’s Y/N Y/L/N.”

The band all raised their eyebrows at that.

“Rog, darling, why on Earth would you choose her?” Freddie questioned.

“I didn’t,” Roger returned. “I chose the firm because they’re reputation is amazing. I didn’t know she was working there, but her boss assigned her to my case because she’s got the most experience in divorce.”

The band was aware of Roger’s history with you because they had been there for the end of it. They also knew that Roger had never really forgotten you. Even though he never talked about you, if they recalled their uni days, he got this warm, fond little smile on his face. They knew his mind was on you because it was the same expression he used to wear each time you entered the room. Then his face would shift into that same, deep hurt he felt because you were no longer in his life.

“So when you say she wouldn’t talk to you,” John said. “You mean about anything other than your divorce.”

“Yeah,” Roger said. “I thought that if we’re going to be working together on this, we should settle things between us, but….”

“Surely, you understand,” Brian said. “You both went through a tough time after you split, and maybe it’s been long enough now that she feels like it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, it matters,” Roger argued. “That’s why she won’t talk. It matters too much.”

Brian looked desperately at Freddie and John for something else to say, but they also had nothing. Up until now, they had thought there was no way you would ever see Roger again. The two of you lived in completely different worlds. But now, here you both were, colliding.

“Alright, mate,” John said. “Let’s forget about all that and just play, yeah?”

“Yeah, that sounds perfect,” Roger agreed, snatching his stick up. “Let’s just fucking play.”

They continued setting up in silence before beginning their session.

At your office, you spent much of your morning trying to dissuade Miss Thomas from her ridiculous case against her employee, but you were unsuccessful. She was determined to sue him for thinking about having sex with her, so you were just going to have to take the case as far as you could. You consoled yourself that at least that meant it wouldn’t be long. Your afternoon was more open than usual, so you found your mind wandering back to Roger.

It had been nearly ten years since you had seen him. Since college. Before Queen was Queen. Seeing the success of the band had brought with it so many conflicting emotions. You didn’t hate Roger, so seeing him live out his dream made you so proud of him. But the constant reminder of the man who had broken your heart was a struggle. So, you stayed out of the music scene and avoided the topic in the news.

You didn’t even know that he had gotten married. That stung. You didn’t know why it stung, but probably because you had always thought you and he would….you shook your head.

“Y/N?” said Jane, knocking gently on your office door as she entered. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you said, voice cracking. You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Well, I was just wondering because the day is over and you’re just sitting here staring at your desk,” she said. “We’re all going down to the bar. Wanna join?”

“Sure,” you replied.

You got to your feet and grabbed your coat and briefcase before following her to the elevator.

Next door to your office building was a bar where you and your coworkers went to drink after the long hours of the day. It was a good way to unwind, since the singer and pianist who performed there regularly was very good. She usually performed covers and got people to dance, though that could also be alcohol induced. Anyway, it was always fun.

You came to the bar and joined Bill and the other lawyers who were already sitting at a table. You shot Bill another glare just to remind him you were angry.

“Relax, Y/N, I’ve made it up to you,” he said. “Already ordered your favorite, gin and tonic.”

“I hope this is the first of a multi-step apology,” you returned, taking your seat and sipping the drink.

“God, you’re demanding,” he teased. “How does Mark put up with you?”

Mark was your boyfriend. He was a sweet guy who loved his job as a doctor in a children’s ward at one of the larger London hospitals. He somehow stayed cheerful despite seeing some of what you considered the most depressing part of medicine. Children being ill.

“I’m just incredible in bed,” you shot back.

You and Bill laughed and you were one step closer to forgiving him.

“Might the second part of my apology be a dance?” he asked, offering his hand.

“Sure,” you conceded, setting your drink down and taking it.

He led you onto the dance floor as the song was changing. You nearly let out a groan when she began to play “Tears on My Pillow.”

“You don’t remember me, but I remember you,” she began to sing. “Twas not so long ago, you broke my heart in two. Tears on my pillow, pain in my heart, caused by you, you.”

“Look, Y/N, I don’t know the details of you and Roger Taylor’s relationship, and I don’t care to know them,” Bill said, distracting you from the music. “But I put you on that case because you’re not just the best at divorce. You’re the best associate attorney in that whole damn office, and I need you to do it.”

You held his gaze as you swayed to the music, shocked at this burst of earnest praise.

“I...yes, alright,” you said. “I’ll try not to let you down.”

“Good,” he replied. “Because nothing makes me angrier than wasted talent.”

“Except losing money,” you reminded him playfully.

“Oh, you know me better than I know myself,” he returned.

You continued to dance until the end of the song. On your way back to your table, a woman at the bar caught your eye. It was Dominique. There was a man beside her who was clearly unwelcome, and when she had your attention, she sent you a pleading expression. Without hesitating, you walked over.

“Dom!” you cried excitedly. “Oh my goodness, how are you?!”

“Hi, Y/N!” she replied. “It’s been ages!”

“I know,” you sighed dramatically. “Tell me what’s going on, love.”

“Um, excuse me,” the man interrupted. “I was speaking to Dominique.”

You shot him a nasty smile. “Yes, well, now I’m speaking to her.”

He looked to her and she shrugged.

“Sorry,” she said in a way that was not at all apologetic. “But we need to catch up. Have a good night.”

With an annoyed huff, he left. You started to leave too, but she grabbed your hand.

“No, not yet,” she said. “Otherwise he’ll know we’re faking.”

“Oh, right, sorry,” you said. “Although, I’m not sure Tim would be comfortable knowing we were speaking without him.”

You both giggled.

“God, he’s ridiculous, isn’t he?” she remarked.

“So ridiculous,” you agreed. “Why’d you hire him?”

“Because he’s effective,” she told you. “Even if he is absurd.”

A beat passed as the subject of Roger hovered between you like a dark cloud.

“Dom, I feel like I should explain -” you began but she cut you off.

“You don’t have to explain,” she said. “I know about you and Roger. He’s told me the stories. How you were childhood sweethearts and dated through college before he ended things.”

“I see,” you said, shifting uncomfortably. “I just hope it really is okay with you that I’m representing him.”

“Believe me, it’s fine,” she said. “I’ve been competing with you our entire marriage. Why should the divorce be any different?”

Your eyes widened as you gaped at her.

“I know he ended it, Y/N, but Roger has never stopped loving you,” she went on.

“Well - that’s - I - Dominique, that’s just not true,” you said. “If he loved me, he -” you stopped yourself, swallowing a lump in your throat. “He wouldn’t have done...well, everything he’s done.”

“Believe it or don’t, Y/N,” she said with a sigh. “But what you two had is what most people wait a lifetime for. And he’s never forgotten.”

Another beat of silence passed. You had no idea how to even answer her.

“I’m gonna go,” she said. “It’s getting late and I’ve got to put the kids to bed. See you Wednesday.”

She gathered her things, left some money on the counter, and slid out of the chair. You watched her go until she disappeared down the street.

You left about an hour later when you and your co-workers were ready. Dominique’s words were stuck in your mind all the way home. Each step you took reinforced what you had heard. But it confused you. Roger couldn’t love you. There was no way. She had to be wrong.

You were just settling into your decision as you opened the door to your flat. Only, it wasn’t empty. Mark sat at your kitchen table, a cold dinner in front of him, a candle out of wax in the center of it, and another untouched plate across from him. A bottle of wine was out with two glasses served. Flowers that were already wilting were in his hand. He looked at you sourly.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said bitterly. “Happy fucking anniversary.”

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #roger taylor imagine #Queen #queen imagine #queen x reader #queen x you #BoRhap #borhap imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #just like a woman series

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