tarot & tropes: day one

thank you to @3am-tarot for hosting! feel free to continue this story with your own pulls, pop into my ask box with your headcanons or metas, or just reblog to support!

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the trope: hurt / comfort the spread: it hurts / and i like it the pull: ten of pentacles / three of pentacles

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It appears to be a choice—yours—but it doesn’t feel like much of one at all.

You thought you were over this by now. Thought you’d grown up a little since you last saw them. Thought you knew more, knew better, but apparently not.

“What the hell,” you acquiesce, picking up the glass in front of you and taking a swig.

You can’t tell what burns more, the bourbon as it snakes down your open throat, or the shame that swirls around it in your belly.

Trope: hurt/comfort

Spread: it hurts / but I like it

Cards Pulled: XIII of Swords / IX of Pentacles

Tarot & Tropes Day 4: Enemies to Lovers, prompt and tarot spread from @3am-tarot

I wish you were dead: The Emperor

I won’t let them hurt you: Six of Cups

Dr. Devon Ackermann was still sitting at his desk in the tiny wing of the History building that was dedicated to the Gender Studies department. The light from his open window–or lack thereof–indicated that it was deep into twilight, the breeze carrying in the slightest notion of chilly September nights to come. He sighed, shutting his laptop, pushing aside a pile of “he/they” pronoun pins and a half-full coffee mug, long cold. All of the incoming majors had been assigned advisors, the few courses running this semester were set up in classrooms, the emails in his inbox reduced to zero three hours ago.

And still, Dev slumped in his office chair, trying to get a handle on their emotions. It was a great triumph and testament to their own work recruiting that the department was able to hire another full-time professor. The search had gone well, but at the last minute, their number one candidate withdrew–an older trans woman and ethics researcher–and the committee was quick to appoint Dr. Templeton Wright, some young upstart fresh out of his PhD and some teaching abroad. Sure, Dev had five more years of experience under their belt, and had the output of almost double that, but it felt like their ideas and service to the department were being tossed away for something new and shiny. 

On top of all of that, Dr. Wright was…appallingly handsome. His caramel skin and shock of jet-black hair reminded Dev in all the worst ways of the man who had shattered his heart in graduate school. The esteemed Dr. Ackermann had no use for reminiscing; he only looked forward, working towards progress and rights and independence and not at all thinking about shared secret smiles or affectionate caresses or deep, desperate kisses, and especially not about the way that his heart had skipped a beat when Dr. Wright introduced himself this morning, moving into the office next door.

What kind of name was “Templeton,” anyway? Some curse of a moniker bestowed upon a child along with the pressure to achieve more than his parents had.

Dev was startled out of his brooding by the ringtone on his phone. It was an unknown number, but something urged him to pick up. “Dr. Ackermann speaking,” he intoned.

“Hi. It’s…Templeton…Dr. Wright..it’s Tea. I’m sorry it’s late, but I’m having a bit of a…I need your help.” Their new colleague’s tenor voice wavered. He sounded afraid. 

Dev was out the door before he could even respond.

–

Hello 🤗

tarot & tropes: day five

thank you to @3am-tarot for hosting! i don't know who these honeys are, but they sure do want each other. feel free to continue this story with your own pulls, pop into my ask box with your headcanons or metas, or just reblog to support!

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the trope: second chance the spread: i lost you / you found me the pull: five of pentacles / three of wands

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“I had no idea how popular the song ‘Ain’t No Sunshine’ by Bill Withers was until I lost you.”

“Come on.”

“It’s true. Every elevator, grocery store, radio station, and long telephone hold has taunted me, dripping ice cold backwash into my proverbial beggar’s bowl.”

“You have such a way with words.”

“Tell me you think about me.”

“I think about you. Of course I think about you.”

“Tell me you still love me.”

“I still love you.”

“Tell me when you think about the future, I’m there next to you.”

tarot & tropes: day three

thank you to @3am-tarot for hosting! these silly billy oc's, micah x tai, came barreling out of my brain one day & i've loved them ever since. this excerpt from their story is slightly edited to keep some secrets close to the chest. but! i can reveal that they are in the same series of books as max x sophie & two other babes you'll meet tomorrow! feel free to pop into my ask box with questions or flailings, or reblog to support!

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the trope: friends to lovers the spread: i know you so well / there's so much i didn't know the pull: The Sun / king of wands

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Despite Kimmi’s fair and valid baby sister complaints, Micah has never seen Tai as anything other than an enigma. Not because she was mysterious or puzzling or hard to understand, but the opposite: Tai might as well have ridden into life arms open, legs astride a gleaming white horse, a rainbow banner waving proudly behind her wide smile.

But this Tai, here in front of her, gliding from one end of the built-in espresso machine to the other, brewing multiple, complicated coffee drinks with a flourish of her long fingers and a breath-catching wink?

tarot & tropes: day six

thank you to @3am-tarot for hosting! we're halfway through, so for today's trope, i returned to my day one: hurt/comfort pairing - but from the other pov! feel free to pop into my ask box with your headcanons or metas, or reblog to support!

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the trope: slow burn the spread: a subtle hint / a major move the pull: The Wheel / The Devil

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This has been building for a while.

You know it.

They know it.

Nothing about this meeting tonight was clandestine. Unlike a game of roulette, you made strategic moves to get here. You plotted and manifested their presence. Reeled them in with bait made of bourbon and bad decisions.

You’re hungry for them in a way that feels dangerous. Always have been, which is why you’ve kept your distance. Why you’ve never crossed the line. Why you disappeared, all those years ago…

“C’mere,” you command. Soft, but firm.

tarot & tropes: day eleven

thank you to @3am-tarot for hosting! oooooh baby this one's juicy! WHO ARE THEY? as always, feel free to pop into my ask box with your headcanons or metas, or reblog to support!

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the trope: love triangle the spread: you can only pick one / triads exist the pull: nine of swords / ten of cups

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He swirls his glass, thick fingers cradling the thin stem as tenderly as they’d teased milk and honey from your tongue, and suddenly you’re wracked with guilt.

He should be enough.

Who are you to ask for more?

What can they offer you that you don’t already have?

“You look conflicted,” he observes. Curious, not upset.

Still, “I’m sorry,” you say, even though he’s told you not to apologize so much.

But he doesn’t take you to task. If anything, he ignores your disobedience, rewarding you regardless.