#i want some of those crystal shaped ones bc Long And Not Thick but they all come in pastels what fuck !!

[euclydya]

mom said 2 send her things we want her 2 buy for black friday (derogatory) and On God. are we GERTTING some fidget toys,

[pink-imagines]

warm smile

request: i noticed that you don't have a lot of sero stuff on your masterlist! so maybe, if you would so kindly, write a little drabble about sero kind of teasing the reader about their height as a way of flirting? i've noticed a lot of people do that and i feel like he would too! and then kind of ending it with reader admitting she's insecure about it and him saying it's cute?? thank you!

a/n: this is kinda short bc i ran out of inspiration but i hope this is okay!

warnings: crying, low self confidence and stuff

masterlist

requesting rules

You’ve spent most of your life as the “designated short friend”, as you’ve always been the shortest in your friend group. Not even when you got into UA, an accomplishment in itself, did your title change. Did you have a Napoleon complex - meaning that you were so insecure about your height that it fueled your anger? No most likely not. Did your height affect your insecurities? Yes definitely, but you’d never show it. Every time someone would tease you about it you’d take it for what it was, a joke, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing for you. How could you be a hero if most children were taller than you? Quirk or not, how could you save anyone? The fake confidence you wore proudly when you started at UA was starting to fade as your relationships with the other students grew. You wanted to tell them about your doubts but you felt like no one would listen. Being short isn’t really something to be sad about, at least that’s what most people had told you. You were “fun-sized” and “cute”, but you weren’t independant - which is what you wanted. 

“Good morning, shortie!”, Hanta wore a grin as he approached you in the kitchen dorm, preparing himself some breakfast. “How’s the weather up there this morning?”, you asked and took a sip of your coffee. He only let out a chuckle as he kept making his food. You wondered if he ever got ashamed of his height. Hanta was of pretty average height, probably around 175cm, and how you wished you could be like that. He was one of the few that kept teasing you about your height, of course he always kept it light hearted and never meant anything bad. Hanta was always like that, trying to get you to smile - and while he might tease you to do so he never wanted to see you hurt. Maybe that’s why you had taken a liking to him - not that you’d ever tell him that. “Did you sleep alright?”, Hanta asked out of the blue. “Just fine. How about you?”, you smiled behind your cup. “Like usual, slept like a rock.”, he looked over at you with a smile, “You look so tiny when you sit like that.” He was pointing out the fact that you were sitting on the counter and your cheeks immediately flushed. You might have thought that the height increase you’d get from sitting up there would make you look taller... but then you probably shouldn’t be dangling your feet like you were. “You know one of those salt shakers that’s shaped like a person?”, he laughed. “Oh, stop it!”, you hit his shoulder lightly and stared down into your cup. “Good morning!”, Momo said as she walked into the kitchen. “What are we laughing about?”, Kirishima followed her shortly after. Hanta told him about you looking like a tiny salt shaker while you simply stared down into your empty mug. Kirishima laughed like he always did and then moved onto making a protein shake. Hanta looked over at you again with a sweet smile, making butterflies swarm in your stomach. Momo snickered and you gave her a sour look when she motioned that your face was red. Your look only made her giggle more. Some people knew of your crush on him, though you had made them promise not to tell him. 

Throughout the day Hanta stuck to your side, which made the day just a bit better. It was such a cheesy thing to say but his precense around you made you feel warm and nice. Well, your day was nice until you saw Neito Monoma walking towards you in the hallway. You were having a conversation with Hanta about the homework you had just gotten in your english class when he walked past. “Every time I see you’re still here I get surprised.”, he had stopped in front of you, “I mean how’s it possible that someone of your... stature... could be a hero?” “Can you please leave me alone? I’ve never done anything to you.”, you sighed. “I’m starting to think that’s because you can’t reach me.”, he laughed, “Maybe you should try stilts.” “Leave her alone, Monoma.”, Itzuka Kendo said and started to drag the boy away, “Sorry about that, Y/L/N. He’s really just jealous!” You nodded at her and watched her take Monoma away, scolding him as she walked. Hanta put a hand on your shoulder, making you look over at him. “Don’t bother with him, okay?”, he said softly. “Yeah, I don’t-”, you choked on your words as you felt tears starting to form in your eyes, “Sorry, I have to go...” Before Hanta could say another word you ran over to the nearest bathroom. No way you’d let him see you cry! You weren’t weak like Monoma had said! As soon as you entered the bathroom you burst into tears and held yourself up by leaning on the sink. Luckily, no one else was in there since classes were just about to start. 

For a while you silently sobbed and let it slowly fade into whimpers, drying away your tears with the napkins you were supposed to use after you’d wash your hands. Once you were feeling a bit better you washed your face and tried to think of an excuse for when you got late to the lesson. Outside the bathroom door you saw Hanta leaning against the wall. You immediately looked down and tried to cover your face. “Why are you still here?”, you hated the way your voice sounded so broken. “Here.”, he walked up to you and handed you your favorite candy. “How did you-” “I listen.”, he shrugged, “... I told Aizawa that you went to the nurse’s office and that I’d be going with you, so you don’t have to worry about class.” “Thanks... what did you tell him? I just want to make sure that I don’t say something else later.” “I told him you had puked.” “Hanta!”, you looked up at him with bewildered eyes. “What? It was the first thing I could think of!”, he held his hands up in the air and wore a grin on his face, “Besides, it’s better than saying you were crying in the bathroom.” “I guess you’re right...”, you let out a chuckle. “... thanks.” “No problem... do you wanna talk about it?”, he asked and you nodded, “C’mon let’s go to the dorms before anyone sees us.”

The two of you walked in silence, there wasn’t much to say. Hanta had grabbed your hand and was leading you to the dorms, the only thing you could focus on was trying to control your heartbeat - which was beating out of your chest at the moment. When you arrived there he sat you down on the livingroom couch and then sat down next to you. “What’s up? Has he been bothering you for a long time?”, he asked softly. “Well... yeah, kind of.”, you said and tried your hardest to keep the tears from coming again, “I know he’s nothing to worry about but when someone hits you at your weakest points it’s hard to ignore it.” “You’re insecure about your height?”, Hanta raised his eyebrows slightly as you nodded, “Why?” “... like he said, how could I ever become a hero if I look this fragile? Who would depend on someone who can’t even reach the top shelf?”, you sighed and kept looking down at your hands. “I mean... you probably wouldn’t be the best hero to call if you needed to save a cat in a tree.”, he said and made you chuckle, “That doesn’t mean that you’re not powerful, though... and I kind of think that your height is... well...” You looked up at him, seeing his cheeks tinted pink as well as his ears. “Is what?”, you asked. “... well, it’s cute... and I know you said you wanted to be independent but it kind of makes me want to protect you in a way.”, now it was his turn to avoid your eyes, “So, while I don’t think you’re weak, I’d be there for you in all the ways you need help... like reaching the top shelf.” When you didn’t answer for a while he looked over at you and, unbeknownst to you, you had started tearing up. “Oh no! I’m sorry, that’s probably not what you wanted to hear right now!”, he said and apologiesed prefusely. “Huh?”, you wiped away your tears, “No, no, no... it’s just that no one’s ever treated that as seriously as you did... they usually just say that I’m ‘funsized’ and move on... so, thank you.” “Really?”, he huffed and was about to say something else when you realized. “So you think I’m cute?”, you smiled widely at his flustered expression. “I mean...”, he laughed nervously, “... yeah. Is that bad?” “No not really... I think you’re cute too.”, you smiled. The two of you looked at each other for a while with warm smiles and flustered faces, the tension was so thick that you could slice it with a knife. You noticed that he moved a bit closer, and so did you. He reached out to put his hand on top of yours - but you were suddenly interrupted by someone coming in through the doors. “Hey! Stay away from her she puked! You can’t be sick tomorrow we’re supposed to have our presentation!”, Denki yelled at Hanta. You immediately sat on the opposite end of the couch from him, moving as far away as possible and hid your red face in your hands. “Why are you still up Y/N? You should be resting!”, Momo said as she came in behind Denki, “Here, let me help you to your dorm.” As you were led away by Momo you looked back at Hanta, whom was getting scolded by Denki for being too close to you. He looked over at you with a soft smile and waved, as if he wasn’t about to get beat up by his classmate and as if it wasn’t your fault. You waved back before tearing your eyes away from him and walking up the stairs to the dorms. Things were about to change.

-

permanent taglist: @theoceanphoenixhasrisen | @raven-r0ses | @darkbeautyswife | @sondering-thoughts | @gowoneandonlyone | @bnhabadass | @queenblackcat | @jayetheanimefreek101 | @witchy-anna | @cutest-celestial-princess | @missymysa | @karebear5118 | @weebartistinc | @crystal-lilac |

[chubbyhl]

can we get a little something of witch louis cursing all of athletic harry’s food to go straight to his waistline😳

Louis hadn’t exactly meant for it to happen. 

He had done enough spells to know that he had to be very specific with his intentions, but something about Harry tended to make him throw caution to the wind and get a little blurry. 

He had just barely seen his roommate lately, between Harry’s job and his very rigorous work out and club soccer schedule. So first he had asked to “see more of Harry.” And then he had started thinking of how Harry tended to catch everyone’s eye in public, when he and Louis were hanging out with friends or just out to lunch, and how it made Louis so jealous, he just wanted to have Harry to himself. And Harry was gorgeous, in perfect shape from his many workouts, so of course people looked at him. Harry wasn’t even Louis’s type, really, he had always liked bigger men, anyways, but something about Harry...it got to Louis, and all those thoughts were swirling in his head when he did his spell work one night, safely locked in his room so Harry wouldn’t see him. He had finished up his work, and then gone to the kitchen to whip up a curry for himself and Harry for dinner, and then hadn’t thought much of it. 

Until the next morning, when he woke up and shuffled to the living room, and then heard Harry calling him from his own room. 

“Um...Lou?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Louis called. “You want me to make coffee?”

“Uh..later..just...what did you put in that curry last night?”

“Um...” Louis blinked, trying to get his sleepy mind to work. “The same stuff I usually put in. Coconut milk? Curry powder? Some tomato paste?” 

“Huh,” Harry said. “I just..shit, come here a second, I think I’m having a reaction to something you put in there.”

“Oh, fuck, okay, one second,” Louis said, rubbing his eyes. “I used a different brand of milk, maybe that’s -- “

He stopped immediately as soon as he pushed the door to Harry’s room open, and then just stared at him, mouth wide open. 

His roommate was standing in the middle of his room, with one of his work-out tops pulled over his head, but his top wasn’t even reaching his belly button now. And he was struggling to pull on his shorts, which refused to go up his thighs. Because...there was certainly more Harry. The man who had just a trim, fit body, strengthened from hours upon hours at the gym and the football pitch, now had a round, globular belly that stuck out six inches form his midsection, and jiggled and shook with every useless tug Harry made to get his shorts on. But there was probably no point, because his thighs had also exploded in size, wide, thick, and dimpled. It was a miracle he had even gotten his briefs on, bc they looked like they were cutting in hard to his plump hips, and they barely covered his now round ass. Although the closer he looked, Louis could see the briefs tearing at the seams on the sides. 

This clearly wasn’t an allergic reaction. All of Harry was bigger, but Louis could see, from the wobble of his belly to the two soft mounds that had replaced his arm pecs, to the new jiggle of his arms, and the generous fold that was now under his chin to complement the rest of his full face, that this wasn’t swelling. And it wasn’t the curry’s fault, but Louis could think of a handful of crystals in his drawer that were to blame. 

He had somehow made Harry fat overnight. 

Louis realized he had been silent for a long stretch of time, so he stuttered, closing his mouth again and then opening it. 

“Oh,” he said. “Yeah, that looks like a rough reaction.” 

“Jesus, I’ll say so,” Harry said. He grabbed at his belly, squeezing it, and Louis thought he was going to pass out. 

“I’ve never been this bloated in my life.”

“I -- “ Louis stuttered. “I’m sure it’ll go down.” 

“It better,” Harry said. “Christ, I can’t go to the gym anyways, my clothes won’t even fit.” 

With a frustrated grunt, he pulled on his shorts and his tight tank top, leaving a clearer view of his new figure for Louis to enjoy. He looked so big, and his tattoos had even stretched out over his new girth, and...

He looked absolutely incredible. 

“It’ll be fine,” Louis eventually said, a smile coming on his face, “How about I make you some breakfast?”

“I guess,” Harry sighed, setting a big hand on his new belly. “I don’t know why, but I’m fuckin’ starving.” 

Louis smiled wider, thinking up all the recipes he could make Harry, all the butter and cream and of course, magic, he could put in. 

And how much time he would have to enjoy this before Harry wised up. 

“Well let’s go take care of that.” 

[priincesspacificaarchive]

💍 + regular dipcifica *

WEDDING MEME||ACCEPTING

where they get married

where they live in cali idk??? probs on a beach? idk for some reason i haven’t thought of their wedding that often???

when they get married ( ie what time of day, what month and season etc. )

summer. summer’s always they’re time together so summer just makes sense. maybe june, around pioneer’s day? so they have something good to celebrate instead of her family’s fraudulence.

what traditions they include ( do they get married under a chuppah and crush a glass, garter toss, ‘something borrowed, something blue,’ etc. )

something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue probs. also if jewish!dipper still applies then those too. and paz has an ampola fan! I LOVE THOSE.

what their wedding cake looks like

it’s like, five-tiers and white buttercream on red velvet cake. it’s got like, baby blue and lavender-tinted seashells and a typical bride/groom topper. 

….who smashes cake into whose face

they do that weird “crossing their forks around each other but still eating off their own fork” thing actually.

who proposed to who first

dipper, the sap. she was halfway through med school too! 

who walks down the aisle and who waits at the altar ( or neither )

paz down the aisle, dipper at the altar. this all changes big time if dipper is jewish okay.

what their wedding dresses / suits / other look like

she’s wearing this white ballgown style with a corset top with a lot of crystal gemstone things. like the whole bodice is covered. there’s also lines of the crystals down the gauzy skirt. she uses lavender accent pieces. he wears a black tux and a lavender bowtie. 9its been a while since i’ve watched say yes to the dress okay the terminology left my brain.)

what their wedding colour scheme is and what sort of decor they have

color scheme is like…lavender and baby blue bc it can be and also color-coding and ALSO aesthetic.

what flowers are in the bouquet ( if applicable. bonus: what do the flowers mean?)

petunias (meaning your presence soothes me), something light blue, probably wrapped in baby’s breath (meaning -) bc a lot of bouquets get wrapped in something like that to keep it together. also ampola flowers bc purto rican tradition.

what their vows are ( eg poetry, traditional, improvised etc. )

they wrote their own. paz’s are along the lines of like “so we used to hate each other and now we’re standing here and it’s just amazing how much time can change things.” and she makes inside jokes and promises to love him until the end of the world. “but then you’re on your own i am not holding mcgucket’s hand again.” dipper’s are rly sappy and sweet and he makes her cry and he says something along the lines of loving her until the end of the world and then “but then ur on ur own okay i don’t care if u get turned to stone” and they’re laughing and everyone from gf knows it’s a joke and they finish with the typical “i dos”

if anyone’s late to the wedding

it’d be so characteristic of mabel to rush in during the speak now part but she’s standing next to dipper so she can’t. otherwise idk???

who’s in the bridal parties / groomsmen / other

dipper has mabel and robbie. paz has wendy and tambry.

what their bridal party / groomsmen / other are wearing

wendy and tambry wear straight-down, almost gauzy lavender dresses with baby blue accents and accessories. mabel wears a same stye dress in baby blue with lavender accents and accessories. robbie wears a black tux and baby blue tie. 

who gives speeches at the reception ( bonus: what do they say? recount a sweet memory or two between them? tell an embarrassing story? )

mabel tells embarrassing but sweet stories, wendy recalls the first time she caught them together. robbie uses the whole thing as a lead up to threatening dipper not to hurt her even tho it’s been at least a decade and maybe half of a second one. the floor opens up and ford recounts some sweet memory of the two of them. stan tries to make jokes the whole time but walks away trying not to cry. soos spends ten minutes trying to compare them to anime characters. it’s like an hour and a half of speeches alone as most of gravity falls recount watching them grow up and fall in love and the whole thing makes them embarrassed and cry at the same time.

who catches the bouquet( s )

mabel! she then winks at wendy and it’s…ridiculous.

what their wedding photos are like ( are they sweet, with the couple holding hands or kissing or ~gazing into each others eyes~? are they silly, with a snapshot of the ‘cake-smash’ moment? or are they artistic, with one of them facing the sunset or holding their bouquets? )

mostly sweet ones of them smiling or kissing. there’s one taken by chance with paz chasing after him in her heels and he’s like, fucking giggling as he takes off with her tiara. the next one is her glaring up at him as he sheepishly puts it back in her hair. just a lot of photos to document their relationship. mabel puts them in an album and has it waiting on their kitchen table when they get back from their honeymoon.

what sort of food they have at the reception

since paz is (possibly) the only one w heritage at this wedding he let her do the food planning according to tradition and everyone is like, pleasantly surprised that it works as well as it does.

who cries first during the ceremony

they both make it through the walk down the aisle but then they’re standing there and it’s real and they’re both crying. pretty crying though so they don’t ruin the photos too much.

how wild their reception gets ( who dances the best, who gets drunk first, etc. )

the main three steal the mini putt golf cart again for fun and drive it through the reception for like, half an hour laughing their heads off.

what their rings are like

pacifica’s wedding ring is a simple silver band, while her engagement ring is silver with a big white diamond center, surrounded by lavender-colored gems. dipper has a thick-silver band with an inscription. pacifica’s engagement ring also has an inscription. they both say “you’re the worst.” with a heart shape next to it.

what sort of favours they have ( heart shaped sparklers, mini champagne bottles, personalised candy etc. )

pacifica’s are lavender tiara-shaped candles and dipper’s are mini journals to write in about what happens that night of memories that person has of them. also capias bc i LOVE that idea!

where they go for their honeymoon

i feel like they’d go on a cruise

something memorable that happens during the party / ceremony ( do they run out of ice and someone goes to get it in full formal wear on foot, does anyone fall asleep in the middle of the party, etc. )

tambry and robbie are found sleeping in a coat closet as the night is winding down. wendy and mabel draw on their faces.

who officiates the ceremony

i think it’d be ford for some reason. if jewish!dipper is a thing he gets to hire the rabbi.

what song their first dance is to

i want at least one of these to be in spanish but idk if that’s gonna happen bc i….don’t speak spanish. but i thought this song had a gorgeous enough vibe for it. plus y’all know paz would be scouring websites and things for songs for this dance and then asking dipper if he’d like them. i’ve just always seen first dance songs as soft and slow and a time to reflect on being married you know? so this one would be performed live and slowed-down a bit.

who gives who away as they walk down the aisle

honestly paz gives herself away okay. she’s been w/o parents this long and she doesn’t need them now. but suddenly stan has stood up and takes her by the hand and just calmly passes her to dipper like it was all planned and for half a second she’s rly confused but then she’s swept up in the ceremony. she asks him at the reception and he just shrugs and goes “you’re family. it’s what we do for family.” and that’s it so she’s even more confused. but also rly touched.

[reactivebangtan]

REQUEST: BTS reaction to their s/o having sweater paws when they give them their big hoodie to wear bc it's too cold in the dorms? 💘💘 REQUESTED BY: anonymous WARNINGS: nothing! NOTES: i tried to make it more body friendly for those who aren’t petite ( as these always seemed to be more aimed towards those who are tinier ), as well as more conscious of each boy’s own body shape/height/weight.

❝ are you sure you don’t need a blanket? ❞ coming in from the other room, jin had thought absolutely nothing of you asking to borrow one of his spare hoodies, as the chill in the dorm was substantial and you always seemed to forget one thing or another, your jacket being that something this time around. all you can do is giggle as he finally enters the living area and spots you all swaddled up on the farthest side of the couch:  ❝ no, i think you’ve got me covered. ❞ and, that he does — where his broad shoulders would fill out the top lining, it dips along the feminine slope of yours and slides down just the slightest bit to pool widely around your neck, all while the sleeves fall far past your fingers and the hem falls closer to your thighs rather than your hips. the smile that alights along his lips is positively radiant, more than simply happy to see you adorned in something of his, even more so by how mutual the feeling seems to be. he says nothing else — feels no reason to, as surely the look on his face says it all — as he moves swiftly towards you, practically throwing himself down next to you without so much as a peep ( the squeal he pulls out of you does have him laughing, though ) and wrapping his arms around you all in the same breath. pulling you in nice and tight, seokjin squeezes you to him and purrs with contentment when you simply slip into his hold and mold against his body like warm clay; he loves that about you, how easily you fold beneath his every whim, trusting he’d never use it against you ( and, he wouldn’t — he would never take advantage of you or your heart ). just as easily, one hand is sliding down the length of the sleeve laid loosely over your arm, only to start dragging it back until he can see the tips of your fingers peeking out — it’s here that he finds his safe space, his fingers interlocking between yours, the thick fabric of his hoodie pressed between you both in more ways than one.  ❝ as long as you’re warm. ❞

❝ ahh — that looks better on you than it does on me. ❞ normally, yoongi doesn’t like mixing work with pleasure, but he makes an exception every once and a while for you — you are, afterall, the only exception. and, as much as he hates the fuzzy feeling that fades into existence once his leg falls asleep, he adores when you sit in his lap and cuddle into him like the teddy bear that he is. as if the moment couldn’t get any better, you’d decided to throw on his hoodie over top of your t-shirt and pajama shorts, allowing the fabric to fall past your hips and brush the very edges of your fingertips ( he might be short by boy standards, but he was still such a stringbean — and, if that wasn’t enough, he seemed to like his shirts and jackets a little too big, always baggy on his own figure and surely so on your own, even if it’s only a little bit ). you look perfect, but then you always do in his eyes, and he’s more than happy to tell you so with a sideways compliment and a beckoning of his hand. you take your spot as fluidly as you breathe, and without thought, instantly wrapping your arms around his torso and wiggling up close enough so that your sides are pressed together. yoongi is always sure to wrap one arm around you, as well, fingers idly tracing patterns into the skin of your hip, just beneath the fabric of his own hoodie — knowing that it’s his, that a part of him is covering you, has him humming to himself, the sound thrumming warmly in his chest and vibrating against the weight of you — and the thin material of your shirt. his free hand sets upon the keyboard with fiery diligence, shifting to his mouse every once and a while, the music he seamlessly creates being produced through the speakers at a volume just low enough to have your eyes falling shut. it’s a slow melody, soothing and mellow in tone, and although there are no words just yet you can feel exactly what energy he’s put into it — he’s always had a way with speaking without words, whether it’s through musical notes or simply the look in his eyes — but no matter how gentle it is and how tempting the idea of sleep becomes, you remain awake enough to offer suggestions and answer his inquiries ( a trait he’s always loved about you, how you always keep him in mind even when your thoughts drift and it seems other things have clouded your senses — it’s as if his existence remains crystal clear to you, no matter what ). eventually, he stops long enough to take the moment in, looking down at you still swathed in his hoodie and seemingly so comfortable that you haven’t dared to move for more than half an hour, and he notes how well the situation matches the melody he’s trying so hard to emulate — a cherishable moment, something between fine lines, so soft that the edges are blurred and yet cloaked in a color of familiarity, a shade of this is mine, a hue of i’ll never forget. ❝ you know, i think seeing you like this has given me some inspiration. ❞

❝ just what are you trying to do to me? ❞ hoseok's voice is close to a whine when he questions you and your actions, bright eyes set upon your figure from across the room — he positively adores it when you wear anything of his, even if it’s just a single sock. how did you expect him to react to you sidling up in one of his favorite hoodies? it seems, though, from the mirthful simper set upon your lips, that you knew exactly how he’d react, and the cocky sway of your hips as you approach him only confirms that. the fabric is just long enough to cover the material of your pajama shorts and reveals the rest of your legs in a teasing show, the hem lifting just slightly with every step, and only the tips of your fingers peek out from the end of the sleeves. it’s enough to have him reaching for you before you’re even in front of him, hands deadset on grasping onto your thighs and beckoning you closer with a tug, those warm eyes rising to meet your own — his fingers play with the hem of the hoodie and tickle your skin with little butterfly kisses, skimming along the tops of your thighs and skimming down to cradle just above your knees. he doesn’t have to say it, doesn’t even really need to look at you to convey what he wants — the pull of his hands and the grin on his face is always enough, he’s always enough — and you do so almost instantly by placing one knee on either side of his thighs and settling into his lap like you were meant to be there ( as far as he’s concerned, you absolutely were ). admiring you for a moment more, sat there so primly in clothing that undoubtedly still held traces of his scent, of his ownership ( therefore adorning you in it, too ), he lets his grin morph into something warmer, something softer, something so affectionate that it burns at the back of your eyes and seizes the air in your lungs all at once. to say he loves you would be an understatement, but there’s no word to describe exactly how he feels about you, especially when you do adorable little things like this — especially when you do adorable little things like this for him. knowing that, knowing that this is for him and him alone, contents him more than he probably realizes. he hums, and then, with a squeeze of his hands to your hips: ❝ i think i’d be okay with staying like this for the rest of our lives. ❞

❝ you’re so cute. ❞ said gently, softly, a whisper in the otherwise unbothered silence of the bedroom. the moment you’d asked him to read to you, he knew you were tired — with nothing to do tomorrow and no reason to stay up late, it was the perfect scenario for you to fall inhto a deep sleep and stay that way until late afternoon the next day, always lulled into such by the gentle baritone of his voice. you always said it was something about how he spoke, the way everything seemed to roll off his tongue with a certain warmth, how every word seemed to have more depth and how each held a story of their own. of course, he’d meant to come to bed sooner rather than later, but he’d gotten too caught up in his work to see you off exactly the way you’d wanted, and you’d made up for his absence in other ways. for starters, the hoodie wound around your figure and covered solely by your blanket was his — one of his favorites, actually, and one sure to smell like him — and you’d taken to his side of the bed rather than your own. he, of course, notes how well the color compliments your skin and how all that extra room has only served to twist and turn as you do, encasing you in tighter and tighter with each little movement ( he makes sure to pull the fabric out from under you so you lay more comfortably, but you roll over again only a few moments later and get yourself all wound up again — all he can do is chuckle ), and how you continued to breathe him in through the fabric of the sleeves pulled taut to your nose. the whole situation seemed sweetly symbolic — you’d always been the type to so freely be his, wearing your relationship on your sleeve as openly as your heart, and he supposes adorning yourself in him and his is only part of that. shuffling in beside you, he takes to pulling you in close enough to wrap one arm around you, nuzzling his nose into your hair and breathing you in. if anyone were ever to ask, he would gladly admit to never growing tired of this — of you — because you slept enough for the both of you. ❝ sleep well. ❞

❝ is that my hoodie? ❞ by the smile painted on his mouth you know you don’t need to answer his question, but you give a sheepish nod, anyway. in the end, though, you’re glad you did, because his grin widens impossibly and his eyes seem to glitter in the lowlight of the dorm. utter and complete solace fills his chest when you do things like this, as if you’re silently affirming to the fact that you’re his and his alone. his name wasn’t on that hoodie, there was no indication that it was truly his, but somehow it felt as if you were wearing your relationship like a badge upon your body — like you were proud to show it off, to let others know, to be his. maybe it was the clingy side of him, the side that needed affection at all hours of the day, but something in him quieted at the sight of you sitting there on the couch; it would become noisy again soon enough, he’d be hyperaware of it eventually, but none of that seemed to matter right then. sure, you probably really did it because you were cold, and because you probably forgot your jacket on your way over to the dorms, but it was all just fine details in the face of his overwhelming affection for you. finding his way to your side is always easy, but it seems even easier then, and easier still to find your hand within all that fabric and interlock his fingers with yours. always, as if by gravitational pull, you lean into one another and relax against the weight of the other as if nothing in the world is more simple and you couldn’t be bothered to be anywhere else. a thumb runs across your knuckles and you feel the gentle brush of his nose against your temple as he sighs into your skin and you swear you’ve never seen him quite this happy. ❝ you should wear my things more often. ❞

❝ i’m cold, too, you know. ❞ taehyung states it so matter-of-factly that there’s no room to argue, even if he’s already decked out in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, topped off with a sweatband and fluffy socks ( does this boy ever leave his loungewear? ), all of which he’s worn the entirety of the day. there’s no smile on his face, but the lilt in his tone is enough to alert you that he’s more than amused by the situation at hand, and you’re already well-aware that he’s going to milk it for all it’s worth. upon finding you bundled up beneath the covers and adorned with the closest hoodie you could find ( which was haphazardly thrown on the floor, and therefore ripe for the taking ), he dove right in next to you and curled around you like it was second-nature — at this point in your relationship, it probably is — simultaneously worming his hands beneath hem of the hoodie and planting them firmly on the warm skin hidden beneath. his touch is always teasing but delicate, fingers mirroring your squirming and wiggling, privy to dragging giggles and little, breathless chants of his name out of you. fighting him is as pointless as it is impossible, but you never bother to even try in the first place, far too pleased to cater to his desire for attention, whether it be giving or receiving ( and regardless of whether it is, by some definitions, good or bad ). once his initial teasing dies down and the peace of the moment finally settles in the otherwise quiet and undisturbed atmosphere of his bedroom, you find his thumb sliding back and forth against the curve of your hip and his free hand to be playing with the hem of the hoodie you’d decided to borrow for the evening. strangely enough, he’d never found the fabric to be as comforting as he does now, but somehow the feel of it has changed now that it adorns your body and not his, even if the shape has stayed mostly the same. with such a slight build and small frame, everything from the shoulders to the waist seem to accommodate your own body shape perfectly, even if the material of the sleeves hangs past your wrists and the hem sits below your hips. taehyung is unbothered by telling you that look as cute as you do, his smile finally revealing itself when your reaction is to hide half your face in the hoodie and tell him to stop. it wouldn’t be taehyung, though, if he didn’t do the exact opposite — in fact, he escalates by starting to pepper your face in kisses and still managing to compliment you between each one until you’re breathless from laughing and tucking yourself so far into the fabric surrounding your head that he’s eventually simply nuzzling into that instead of your reddened skin ( ‘ you’re — so — cute! ‘ ). eventually, he does take mercy on you and instead takes to cuddling up close enough to actually make you complain about the heat you both now share ( though you make no move to get away ), and he’s mumbling sleepily into your hair:  ❝ mm — warm. ❞

❝ i was only gone for five minutes — did you really miss me that much? ❞ seeing you in his hoodie is far more than amusing, but he tries to act like it doesn’t effect him as much as it does. the cocky smile on his face is enough to get you to toss the closest pillow at him, only for him to catch it right before it hits his face with the sort of giggle you love to hate. once he actually settles down next to you, though, and gets a good look at you his smile melts into something much softer — your attention is on the movie, but he can’t be bothered to watch it when he’s got you sitting there with a hoodie three times your size practically swallowing you up ( granted, he only ever buys shirts, jackets and hoodies when they’re two times his size, but i digress ). the sleeves were far too long for your arms and the hoodie itself was made for a larger build than you’ve got to offer, the heavy fabric draped over you almost lazily, as if it can’t be bothered to cling to you as it should. he can see a tease of your shoulder and the delicious expanse of your thighs and it’s more than enough to have him sucking his bottom lip between his teeth and biting down on it to keep his grin from widening any further than it already has. such a task becomes impossible when you nuzzle your face into the front and subconsciously inhale the scent still lingering on the fabric, and how your body seems to relax immediately afterwards, shoulders falling and your head coming to rest against his shoulder. it becomes even more impossible to keep from leaning his head against yours, and allowing his eyes to flutter closed after a moment or two, breathing you in and easing his body into you. unknowingly, his hands wander over your form, fingertips brushing against the material of the hoodie and sliding over the exposed bits of skin closest to him, humming when you shift into his palm or flex against his touch; such a thing is a habit of his, one you aren’t entirely sure he’s aware of, until he mumbles in your ear: ❝ i love you. ❞

[mymagicalstudy]

OK! time to pick the winners from my giveaway thing!!!

I’ve chosen the stories I enjoyed reading the most, and will message those people privately. If you don't have messenger enabled, make sure you open it up.

I wish i could send you all things, but postage is expensive :’(

Got some awesome stories from everyone who entered, so i thought i’d post all the entries below the line.

@the-tarot-boii​ : “One night, after reading my book, La Santa Muerte by Tomas Prower, La Flaca herself spoke to me. I was doing an automatic writing (as instructed in the book), and she said something to the air of, “My child seeks wisdom”. I have a feeling she was speaking to me because, at the time, i was reading up on the Western Mystery Tradition and the Qabalah”

@sparklesbrightly : “It was Samhain about 5 years ago, and it was the autumn of my maiden years. Both myself and my current partner had just recently eloped. So much in our lives was uncertain, as if a volume had completed itself that summer, so many loose ends were waiting to be tied that evening. We were staying in a simply radiant Victorian bed and breakfast,and our plans were rather loose. We set about putting together costumes that suited our moods, and painting our faces for the occasion. We brought with us many tokens that represented those thing we meant to let go, among them were seven garnets in the shape of pomegranate seeds. We walked down the street without plan or direction, the fog growing thick, as we went along folks became scarce and avoided us when they were about. The silence was so deep and nearly as thick as the fog, strange to hear in a large city. We made our way to the center of a wooded park that we found, and made our ritual there. I have never felt so far beyond this realm as I did that night. We buried our tokens, and left that place. There were some swings where we sat for a while watching some lanterns float into the air from a nearby yard, more messages for the dead, from other people. When we returned to our room we slept hard, the morning broke with bright light broken into rainbows through the cut crystal windows, and I never felt so rejuvenated and free as I did that morning. It was a very lovely goodbye.”

@transboystrength : “One night this past winter some friends & I went out to a popular smoking spot at our college to participate in the cursing trump thing. The spot is called bamboo fortress, because its in the middle of a huge swath of bamboo & people built up a treehouse & fence there. I was leading the ceremony & had picked bamboo fortress bc bamboo is protective. four of us went, but we were half expecting more to join us. We got about halfway through the ceremony when we heard someone approaching. We didnt think anything of it, until we noticed that the footsteps had begun circling the fortress. It made a full, slow circumference until it left the way it came. We worked through the curse till the end, but we were all clearly pretty spooked. We walked back to the dorm in silence. I was only a freshman so I didnt know much of the local lore, but apparently wendigos are known to sometimes appear in the local woods, and two in our group had heard them calling while camping in the winter. Thank god we were as thoroughly protected & armed as we were else we may never have left bamboo except in body bags.”

@recolligio : “I lean hermetic, but have been striving to center my practice on the familiar base of my Christian upbringing, although my own perspective is of course a bit unorthodox.I had been seeking to do some elemental balancing work, but wasn’t sure where to start; so I turned to St. Raphael as associated with Air and healing.It turns out he’s also associated with “happy meetings,” and the first prayer to him I came across was in this light.  It seemed warm and positive, so I made​ my introduction this way.And for weeks I couldn’t step out the door without having some kind of noteworthy and pleasant interaction. I ran into all kinds of neighbors, the dog made friends with people on almost every walk, and I had a handful of genuinely strange run-ins too - meetings with very useful or heartwarming outcomes that depended on schedules intersecting in unlikely ways. (e.g. running into a visitor from out of state during the 30s we happened to be in the same parking lot).It went from astonishing to charming to genuinely eerie before it started to taper off.I am very grateful though, for those opportunities. It reminded me how many there really are, on any ordinary day.”

@fluoritechild : “Withcraft has followed me all my life, even before I knew it. In my childhood my friend would bring me pendulums to play with, we would look up mantras to say to feel better, and make up spells for all sorts of things like getting boys to like us and getting good grades. It’s safe to say that I have always had a fascination with it, but there are two big milestones that I remember which set me off on the path I am currently on.The first was in middle school when my friends and I thought the locker rooms and the hallway outside it were haunted. We spent a week researching ouija boards and how to safely use them, and we made our own and put protective symbols on the back. We brought candles from home and borrowed a lighter from one of the cool kids who were already smoking, and during lunch we went down there and talked to the spirits who live there. We were right. It was haunted. The whole time there were banging on the door from the girl’s room. It was a great experience.The other milestone is when I got my first tarot deck. Two of my friends had already started to dive into the occult, and they brought me to an alternative convention where we spent the whole day attending lectures and buying readings from professionals. At the end of the day I passed by a stand that sold tarot and oracle cards. My friend explained the difference to me, and I decided to get a tarot deck. The choice was difficult, the seller had many to choose from, but eventually they showed me The Mystic Faerie Tarot. It was the last copy they had, and the moment I touched it I was filled with this overwhelming, warm energy. It was meant to be. To this day I always look for this feeling when choosing a new tarot deck. All my life my occult experiences have been the result of following someone else, until about a year ago when I decided to truly dive into it and research it on my own. It is a whole other world which has opened up to me, and the more I learn the more questions I have. I love this lifestyle that I am trying to make for myself, and I am never turning back.”

@notjustanyannie : “One time, I was at an overnight party at my friends house out in the country.  They let me sleep in a guest bedroom.  I awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, sure that someone was watching me.  I rolled over and saw a boy, about 10 yo, standing beside the bed.  He had brown hair and was wearing jeans with a flannel shirt.  He was looking right at me, like he wanted to ask me something.  I reached over and turned on the lamp, but he was no longer there.  I eventually went back to sleep.   When I woke up the next day, I told the host what I’d seen.  His eyes got really big, and he told me to go tell his wife, G.  As I started telling her, she got excited and started to describe the boy along with me, even down to the outfit.  Then she told me that she had been seeing him in her dreams for the past two weeks.  In her dreams, there were these 2 or 3 people or entities that were trying to take the boy somewhere.  She got a really bad vibe from them.  He did not want to go with them, and had asked her for help.  She was having these intense physical and spiritual battles with these dream entities, and waking up with actual injuries.  She and her husband both told stories of terrible battles that she finally awoke from, battered and exhausted.  She was really concerned for the boy, and afraid of what might happen if she couldn’t help him get away.  After we talked, I went home to rest.  I napped for a couple of hours, to recover from the overnight party.   Later that same day, my two housemates told me that strange things had started happening in our house that day.  Little ‘poltergeist’ things, like items being moved around or doors opening and closing.  Then, over the next few days,  I also started seeing lots of little things, including cabinet doors opening and closing behind your back in the kitchen, things like that.  Nothing scary to us, it never felt threatening in any way.  A few days later, I was talking with my female housemate and I told her about seeing the ghost boy, and about G’s dreams.  She asked if I thought that the boy might be related to our new 'ghost visitor?’  I decided to call G and see what she thought. When I contacted G, she said she had not seen the boy, nor had any dreams since I had been there. We decided the boy had somehow hitched a ride home with me.   We all thought this was where the story ended, but many months later, I found out it had another chapter! We had to move not long after this, for completely unrelated reasons. While our landlord was showing the place, D & C, a couple I sorta knew (through other friends), came and looked at the place.  They ended up moving in after we left.  We never got a chance to talk to them before they moved in, and didn’t tell them about our ghost friend.   Almost a year later, I was at another friends house and ran into D.  I asked him how it was going, living at the house.  His eyes got big, and he told me about their experiences in the house after we left.   He told me that he and C had the same type of little things happen that we did, things getting moved around, doors opening & closing, nothing big. But they had another housemate, and he had terrible battles with a spirit presence or something.  It apparently was really focusing on him, and making his life miserable.  He was really struggling to keep it together, until finally he asked them to call in an exorcist!  He felt like his life was in danger. They had an exorcist come out, and she did a house reading.  She said that the room he was sleeping in (one we hadn’t used), had an open passageway to the really old pioneer cemetery just over the next hill, and spirits could easily pass through.  She called it “a spirit superhighway”! She did a banishing and then a closing ceremony, and sealed off the portal.  They (D & C) didn’t have any more problems there afterwards, but their housemate moved out anyway.   So that’s how it ended, as far as I know… “

@newenglandyankee : “Reached enlightenment by age 19 from constant meditation through a journey into myself, there was a flushing sensation where the third eye is and white light. From there I unlocked new conscious levels, lucid dreaming and astral body, amongst other things.”

@dr-gene-ray: “I could talk about the manifestation of The Tower between hod and netzach & my enriching Enochian experiences but I feel those are too idiosyncratic and emotional to interest anyone but me. So other than the amazing personal growth, one of my coolest occult happenings is: I once (accidentally) caused a mans death. I don’t necessarily feel guilty but I do now see the importance of clearly defined boundaries while working the lemegeton hahah”

[lunuanaki]

Your favorite ship. I'm talking about the one that gives you the butterflies and happy feel good feelings. Talk to me about that. I wanna know what your brain words say about it. :)

THANK YOU, SYN, FOR SENDING ME THIS MESSAGE WHEN NO ONE ELSE WOULD because probably they know what’s going to happen and they don’t want any part of it---  *glares at entire dash like that one picture of the assmad cartoon pig*

I’m going to cut this because it’ll definitely get long, but... if you wanna know what kind of ships I would throw myself in front of a ruby dragon for, you’re boutta find out... I’m gonna explain it for the unfamiliar as well, though. So I get to talk more. I don’t know how anyone on this website could dislike this ship. Fight me. Anyone who reads this and agrees gets the warm fuzzy feeling of my everlasting favour. 

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

It’s Velka and Gwyndolin, is anyone surprised?! Nahhh... BUT LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THEM BC I BET YOU DONT KNOW EM?!For those unfamiliar with Dark S//ouls, Gwyndolin is the youngest child of the Great Lord Gwyn, God of War/Sun/Lightning, all that big noisy man stuff. Gwyndolin was born weak and fragile and corpse-white, so, realising he wasn’t much of a trophy child, Gwyn raised him as a girl. Gwyn’s rejection never quite sat well with him, though - he’s always been insecure about his appearance and how others interpret it. He hates being stared at, and has been known to kill servants who aren’t careful where they look. Actually, he’s not fussy about murder in general, but he does have a strong sense of who deserves it and who doesn’t.Gwyndolin’s talents lie in moon-related magic and archery. As an adult, he still presents as female, he’s still horribly weak in a physical sense, paper-white, and for unspecified-in-canon reasons, has six or eight snakes where his legs should be (he still has legs, but the snakes tend to boost him off the floor). I’m not going to link any images. Picture white silk, gold, delicate, intricately made bows and faintly glowing arrows, and a gold mask he hides his face behind that mimics the shape of the sun his dad is so obsessed with.His canon personality is cold and apathetic; this is no tragic princess to be rescued. Suggest as much, or try to cross him, and he will kill you where you stand, with a shot so fast you’d never see him draw the arrow, or raise his staff. He leads a covenant of followers who hunt down sinners. As proof that they killed for their master, these followers tear off their victim’s ear and bring it to his doorstep for his approval. He’s pure grace and moonlight, and the definition of the phrase “glass cannon”. He knows his place, and even though he will never be a true part of Gwyn’s family, at least to his father, he works to support them. You can kill him in-game; if you do, the sun will go out. It was an illusion. The sun went out in Anor Londo centuries ago; Gwyndolin has been maintaining the false image of its better days, as a comfort to visiting Undead, even though it must grate at his soul to do it. His title is Dark Sun. This is not his natural habitat. 

Velka. Velka is a name, and a concept. That’s all we get in-game. She appeared in the third game as a statue (that confirmed my headcanon appearance for her to be spot on). Her title is Goddess of Sin. She’s known for being sneaky, “eccentric witch”, difficult, changeable. Gwyn’s friendship with her was always rocky; she could see his pride and his self interest, and he knew she waited for the day he met her judgement. Flames help him; after the massacre of the dragons, if he ever knelt at her feet, it would be the last thing he did. If Gwyn is the sun, she is the darkness waiting for him to sink below the horizon. Her covenant are absolvers of sin, for a price, their faces covered to separate them from the material world. She has no concept of the Christian idea of sin, because that just doesn’t exist in Lordran. Sin is decided based on her moral compass - conflicting philosophies, like the Way of White, might claim she has none, because she sees no inherent sin in drinking, or sex, or gambling, as long as no ill intent or effect is there. She only wears black, silver, and that one splash of red, the wedding ring from the husband she outlived. She was human once; not a born Lord like Gwyndolin. That mortal vitality is still about her; she never had the luxury of living without the concept of death. Picture extremely long, thick black hair (that she’s famous for in game), crystal-clear lavender eyes, blood red lips, porcelain-coloured skin and purple dark circles, lace and velvet. Her mother taught her to scheme and spy her way up. Gwyndolin was naturally suspicious of her at first, as he should have been. But their covenants had a mutual interest, and she began to supply her list of unrepentant sinners for his covenant to hunt down. It became a bonding ritual, I think both of them enjoyed it more than they’d admit. 

Gwyndolin to begin to get. Jealous. Velka was known for spending nights with anyone she pleased, servant to knight, never getting attached to any of them. There were rumours that the crown prince of sunlight himself was on that list. Gwyndolin seemed to be the only one she wouldn’t look at in that way. Was that because of the way he looked? Did she pity or avoid him the way everyone else did, even after all this time? Every hour she spent with one of them was one she wasn’t with him. His own anger at her is confusing to him, because he’s never had any interest in anyone, male or female, not like this. It was, she said, because she valued him more than one of her throwaways. She paid close attention to him, enough to know he didn’t like to be approached like that, or looked at. Whenever people had shown interest in him before, he’d assumed they were mocking him. She didn’t want to make him feel the way they did, so she was content with the distance she stayed at, as long as she could pride herself on being the one he was most comfortable with. It was selfish, really, but she liked being his favourite, so she’d do anything to stay that way. Velka does not recognise the word love, because she’s never experienced it before, so she doesn’t use it, not yet.

When they finally stopped dancing around each other, her reputation for impropriety died, along with anyone who spoke about her like that in front of Gwyndolin. Gwyndolin is extremely possessive, and Velka, for once, finds she wants to be possessed. There’s still no power imbalance, though. With her support, Gwyndolin’s confidence can develop (she’s so proud of everything he does). With his favour, she can’t be sidelined as badly as before. They have to be careful as a couple, because it’s dangerous to be seen that way. Not because “Gwyn won’t approve of her”, but because between them, with their combined covenants, Gwyn’s distrust of her, and the growing unrest among Gwyn’s human subjects, they present a very real threat to the throne, and as if to prove their point, Gwyn will soon exile his own son and heir for less.

They’re like Morticia and Gomez, if all that overly romantic stuff were silent. Because they don’t need to say anything. Like the time he panicked over an instinctive murder of a wayward servant, and she helped him clean the blood off his hands and let him calm down alone when she wanted to kiss him until he remembered how much more important he was than such a silly mistake as that - to her, and who else matters? Or the time someone made an untoward comment about her at the dinner table and no one saw Gwyndolin draw the arrow, just the sight of it hit the speaker and kill them instantly. She only laughed as politely as she could, because he already knows how much she adores his overprotective homicidal tendencies, and he thrives off it. Her sense of justice has a blind spot that exists just for him, and she can forgive him anything.

There’s a little piece of lore in the game that says Velka sided against the gods in a war, and lost. The AU that could happen if they won gives me life. If they won, she wouldn’t have taken Gwyn’s place herself, she would have given it to Gwyndolin. They would make a terrifying but brilliant leader between them. The sun would set in Anor Londo for good, and Gwyndolin’s intelligence and clarity would get a chance to prove itself more useful than Gwyn’s brute force and genocide tactics. Gwyndolin isn’t much for titles, but you can be damn sure Velka would take it. If it made Gwyn turn in his grave to hear her called Queen, she’d insist on it, after the way she watched him treat Gwyndolin. As if he weren’t worthy of Gwyn’s pathetic legacy. 

Of course, as the series goes, in the third game, Gwyndolin is gone. Reportedly cannibalised by a cult leader and his apprentice while he was weak and sick. Velka’s verse for that revolves around her finding and saving him - whatever that means. 

If anyone stuck with me this long, please offer me emotional support, because I am compromised. I haven’t run out of words or feelings, I’ve run out of energy to convey them. These two are precious to me. Not only is there all this intensity and unrelenting devotion behind them, they take the usual framework for a hetero relationship, shatter it and piece it back together in completely the “wrong” order. Velka has some of the masculine traits, the forcefulness of her mannerisms, the proactively destructive one, however undercover it might be. Gwyndolin is the formal, delicate, princessly one, and has to be pushed to react badly. Both of them are beautiful, in totally opposing ways. You would usually expect the  female to be the sexually inexperienced one and the male to be the opposite, but that’s flipped on its head as well. And yet, the hyper-feminine one is Velka. Gwyndolin is androgynous, even in feminine clothing. I don’t think I’ve ever come across a pairing where each one adds to the others’ existence to such a degree as they do. I reject the events of the second and third games and substitute my own, because anything else is a waste of one of the best pairs I’ve seen in anything, ever. I don’t think I’ll ever top some of the threads I did with enasaliin with these two, honestly, I might as well log out and never come back. I have to go do some starters now. My heart hurts. ;-;

[enigmacreativeindustries]

Research

History of Fortune telling:

All throughout history, with the advent of astrology, numerology and the tarot, civilizations of different culture have also become interested in matters of fortune-telling, with many people asking their future from psychics. Fortune-telling is basically the practice of predicting events and happenings about a person’s life. Its scope is said to be in principle identical with the practice of divination, with a difference that fortune-telling implies it is done in a less serious or formal setting.

It is said that fortune-telling, historically-speaking, emerges out of folkloristic reception of Renaissance magic, specifically associated with Gypsies

Roma (Gypsies) originated in the Punjab region of northern India as a nomadic people and entered Europe between the eighth and tenth centuries C.E. They were called "Gypsies" because Europeans mistakenly believed they came from Egypt. This minority is made up of distinct groups called "tribes" or "nations."

It is also believed that fortune telling have hundreds of techniques, many of which date back to before recorded history, there is evidence that indicates there are forms of fortune-telling that were practiced in ancient China, Egypt, Chaldea, and Babylonia as long as 4000 BC

Chinese fortune telling, better known as Suan ming (Chinese: 算命; pinyin: Suànmìng; literally: "fate calculating") has utilized many varying divination techniques throughout the dynastic periods. There are many methods still in practice in China, Taiwan and Hong Kong today. Over time, some of these concepts have moved into Korean, Japanese, and Vietnamese culture under other names. For example, "Saju" in Korea is the same as the Chinese four pillar method.

Egypt is known to be a popular practitioner of magic & fortune telling making them one of the country’s highlights which tourists are wanting to see. Ancient Egyptians were always curious and keen in looking beyond different. They believe certain signs or events seen in dreams revealed unpredictable information about the future. The ancient Egyptian Dream Book is a hieratic papyrus that probably dates to the early reign of Ramesses II.

It is also evidenced that prophetic dreams and oracular utterances have played an important part in ancient religion and medicine during the 19th and 20th century, there are methods of divination from non-Western cultures, such as the I Ching, that were also adopted as methods of fortune-telling in western popular culture

There are many types of dreams including Prophetic Dreams which are also referred to as precognitive dreams. Prophetic dreams are believed to be a form of extra-sensory perception (ESP) in which a person is said to perceive information about places or events through paranormal means before they actually happen.

Oracular utterances - Of the nature of, resembling, or suggesting an oracle : an oracular response. Giving forth utterances or decisions as if by special inspiration or authority.

There many predictive methods of fortune-telling and these include astrology which is an interpretation of the movements of heavenly bodies as influences on earthly events, numerology which is the study of numbers, and the usage of objects such as playing cards, tarot card, tea leaves, crystal balls, dice, fire, water, and scattered salt.

Astrology - the study of the movements and relative positions of celestial bodies interpreted as having an influence on human affairs and the natural world.

Numerology - the branch of knowledge that deals with the occult significance of numbers.

There are also fortune-telling that come as a process of character analysis which take such forms as graphology or the study of handwriting, physiognomy or the study of facial characteristics, phrenology or the study of contours on the skull ,and palmistry or the study of lines on the palm of the hand

Choose a hand. In palmistry, it is thought that:

For females, the right hand is what you're born with, and left is what you've accumulated throughout your life.

For males, it is the other way around. The left hand is what you're born with, and the right is what you've accumulated throughout your life.

That being said, you can also choose whichever hand is dominant to be your present/past life hand (the non-dominant hand would then be your future life hand).

There are different schools of thought on the matter. Some say the left-hand shows potential and what could be -- not necessarily what will be. And a difference in the hands could mean one is or is about to take action when it comes to their lives, changing it.

Deciphering the Lines

Identify the four major lines. There may be breaks in them or they may be short, but at least three of them are there.

 The heart line

 The head line

 The life line

 The fate line (only some people have this).

Interpret the heart line. This line can be read in either direction (from the pinkie finger to the index finger or vice versa) depending on the tradition being followed. It's believed to indicate emotional stability, romantic perspectives, depression, and cardiac health. The basic interpretations are as follows:

Begins below the index finger - content with love life

Begins below the middle finger - selfish when it comes to love

Begins in the middle - falls in love easily

Straight and short - less interest in romance

Touches life line - heart is broken easily

Long and curvy - freely expresses emotions and feelings

Straight and parallel to the head line - good handle on emotions

Wavy - many relationships and lovers, absence of serious relationships

Circle on the line - sadness or depression

Broken line - emotional trauma

Smaller lines crossing through heart line - emotional trauma

Examine the headline. This represents a person's learning style, communication approach, intellectualism, and thirst for knowledge. A curved line is associated with creativity and spontaneity, while a straight line is linked with practicality and a structured approach. The basic interpretations are as follows:

Short line - prefers physical achievements over mental ones

Curved, sloping line - creativity

Separated from life line - adventure, enthusiasm for life

Wavy line - short attention span

Deep, long line - thinking is clear and focused

Straight line - thinks realistically

Donuts or cross in headline - emotional crisis

Broken head line - inconsistencies in thought

Multiple crosses through head line - momentous decisions.

Evaluate the life line. This begins near the thumb and travels in an arc towards the wrist. It reflects physical health, general well-being, and major life changes (for example, cataclysmic events, physical injuries, and relocation). Its length is not associated with length of life. The basic interpretations are as follows:

Runs close to thumb - often tired

Curvy - plenty of energy

Long, deep - vitality

Short and shallow - manipulated by others

Swoops around in a semicircle - strength, and enthusiasm

Straight and close to the edge of the palm - cautious when it comes to relationships

Multiple lifelines - extra vitality

Circle in line indicates - hospitalized or injured

Break - sudden change in lifestyle

Study the fate line. This is also known as the line of destiny, and it indicates the degree to which a person's life is affected by external circumstances beyond their control. It begins at the base of the palm. The basic interpretations are as follows:

Deep line - strongly controlled by fate

Breaks and changes of direction - prone to many changes in life from external forces

Starts joined to life line - self-made individual; develops aspirations early on

Joins with the life line around in the middle - signifies a point at which one's interests must be surrendered to those of others

Starts at base of the thumb and crosses life line - support offered by family and friends.

Interpreting the Hands, Fingers, etc.

Determine the hand shape. Each hand shape is associated with certain character traits. The length of the palm is measured from the wrist to the bottom of the fingers. The basic interpretations are as follows:

Earth - broad, square palms and fingers, thick or coarse skin, and ruddy color; length of the palm equals length of fingers

Solid values and energy, sometimes stubborn

Practical and responsible, sometimes materialistic

Work with their hands, comfortable with the tangible

Air - square or rectangular palms with long fingers and sometimes protruding knuckles, low-set thumbs, and dry skin; length of the palm less than length of fingers

Sociable, talkative and witty

Can be shallow, spiteful and cold

Comfortable with the mental and the intangible

Does things in different and radical ways

Water - long, sometimes oval-shaped palm, with long, flexible, conical fingers; length of the palm equals the length of fingers but is less than the width across the widest part of the palm.

Creative, perceptive and sympathetic

Can be moody, emotional and inhibited

Introverts

Do things quietly and intuitively.

Fire - square or rectangular palm, flushed or pink skin, and shorter fingers; length of the palm is greater than length of fingers

Spontaneous, enthusiastic and optimistic

Sometimes egoistic, impulsive and insensitive

Extroverts

Do things boldly and instinctively.

Look at the mounts. That's what the fleshy bit below your fingers are called, on the opposite side of your knuckle. To make them visible, cup your hand just a bit. Which one is the largest?

A high Venus mount (the one under your thumb) indicates a predisposition for hedonism, promiscuity, and the need for instant gratification. A non-existent Venus mount indicates little interest in family matters.

The mount under your index finger is called the Jupiter mount. If this is well-developed, it means you are dominant, possibly self-centered, and aggressive. A lack of one means you lack confidence.

Under your middle finger is the Saturn mount. A high mount shows you're stubborn, cynical, and prone to depression. If it is low, it's an indicator of superficiality and disorganization.

The Sun mount is under your ring finger. You're quick-tempered, extravagant, and prideful if you have a high Sun mount. A low Sun mount means you lack imagination.

The Mercury mount is under your pinkie. If it's protruding, you talk too much. A low mount means the opposite -- you're shy.

None of this is based on science. And your hands are known to change throughout time. Don't take any of it too seriously!

Europeans and Americans, consider fortune-telling as a sin within Judaism and Christianity and civil laws have forbidden the practice.

Psychics were prized advisers to the Assyrians 5000 years ago; however, they lost respect and reverence during the rise of Reason in the 17th and 18th centuries

Fortune telling comes in many different forms, with the most primitive, clumsy, yet enduring method is the simple recording of sequences of important events. This simple recording of sequences of important events have led to the practice of telling the future via omens, may be considered either good or bad depending on their readings. In telling the future via omens, the same sign may be interpreted differently by different people or different cultures

Fortune telling is very similar to the practice of divination. The only difference is that divination is the term used for predictions that are considered part of a religious ritual.

The rules of fortune telling differ per country.

In the United States, a variety of local and state laws restrict fortune telling, whilst other states require the licensing of fortune-tellers, or they use different terminology that avoids the term 'fortune-teller' in favour of terms such as 'spiritual advisor' or 'psychic consultant'. In New Zealand, a 1000 dollar penalty is given to anyone who sets out to 'deceive or pretend' to earn money by stating that they possess telepathy or clairvoyance. It is however not a criminal offence if it is intended for the purposes of entertainment. The most extreme measures have been taken in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, where it is considered to be sorcery and it has been punishable by death.

Edit: We will not be using the term “Gypsies” anywhere in our stall as it has a history of being used as a slur.