#a little taste

[cwritesfiction]

It's in the Cards: Chapter One Excerpt

(It's in the Cards is an adult rom-com with speculative elements. Please note: this is a draft and is subject to change!)

Elliott Beck was getting good at lying.

When it came to lies, the devil was in the details, and nothing taught them details like managing Betsey’s Metaphysical Boutique on Ocean Avenue. They lied about candles for rituals, which customers could learn by purchasing beautiful spellbooks. They lied about herbs and sigils and crystals, sometimes giving multiple explanations for the same item within a single shopping day. Of course they used the spell jars! In fact, they’d used one that week to cleanse their apartment of negative energy! They wouldn’t mention that the “negative energy” was actually the smell of stale weed from their downstairs neighbors, but that was fine. People who came to Betsey’s weren’t interested in reality, anyway.

In the back of the narrow shop, Elliott sat in the corner they’d designated specifically for tarot readings. For customers, they’d provided a sofa strategically covered with blankets to hide its concerning stains. For themself, they’d found a wooden chair that was gorgeous to look at and hell to sit on. It was far from the elaborate setup they’d originally envisioned, but Betsey had only given them so much space in the already-cramped shop. What she hadn’t given them was a budget.

But the furniture didn’t matter, because they could wow customers with their most beautiful set piece: themself. Presently, they wore a purple button down dotted with shimmering stars. Mismatched earrings, a gold sun and moon, dangled from their ears. God, they hated the earrings. Elliott’s fingers knocked into them whenever they re-tousled their chin-length shag of blond hair.

“I love your earrings,” their current customer said. She was dressed for the beach, a shoulder bag of towels sitting on the floor beside her flip-flopped feet. “And I love your cards! What a pretty color.”

“Thanks! We have plenty of decks for sale!” None like Elliott’s, though. They should’ve flaunted a deck from the shop, but instead, they used the Dungeons and Dragons themed deck they’d bought for themself as a housewarming gift. The backs of the cards were a shimmering purple, a twenty-sided die in the center of each. The faces featured items from the game—adventurers, monsters, weapons—illustrated similar to a Rider-Waite deck. When they’d tried to explain the references to Betsey, they’d ended up trapped in an hour-long lecture about the history of tarot art.

“I might look around later,” the woman said in a way that meant she wouldn’t. “I was supposed to meet my family at the beach, but of course, none of them showed up on time. I thought this would be a fun way to wait instead of cooking in the sun!”

Probably a smart idea, considering she was the same shade of pasty white as Elliott, who’d sometimes get burnt in the time it took them to walk from their car to the shop. They placed a hand on their tip jar, as if to say, please look at my tip jar. It was actually a tip mug shaped to look like a fat orange cat, the handle made from its black-striped tail. This particular cat’s name was Norman, the unofficial mascot of Garfield Beach who the locals called Not Garfield as a nod to the town’s not-copyright infringement. On Not Garfield’s round belly, Elliott had taped a small sign: Tips appreciated - ELLIOTT BECK, they/them, cash or Venmo!

They began to shuffle. “Is there anything specific you’d like me to consider when I read your cards?”

“Nope! You’re the expert!”

They were glad she thought so, considering they’d only just started offering tarot readings a few weeks ago. “Then for your three-card spread, the first card will reflect your past, the second, your present, and the third, your future.” At least, that was one technique they’d learned while watching tarot YouTube tutorials while cooking. They set the deck on the table and spread the cards in an arc.

The woman reached forward. “Do I pick?”

“No.” They weren’t eager to have people’s hands on their personal deck…or their personal anything for that matter. “I’ll do all the touching. So, let’s start with your past.”

They flipped a card: The Eight of Wands.

“Ah,” they said.

“What does it show?” the woman asked.

Elliott wasn’t sure, because for the life of them, they couldn't remember what the Eight of Wands meant. Usually, the illustrations helped them remember meanings, but this one looked like a bunch of ambiguous sticks. Taking a deep breath, Elliott bobbed their head, hoping they appeared lost in thought. They didn’t need to provide a perfect interpretation—tarot was less about memorization and more about helping people gain insight into their lives. That was the advice given by someone with an unrepeatable username on Reddit, and Elliott intended to follow it.

“Wands are good,” they remembered. “But…sometimes, you can have too much of a good thing. It looks like you’ve recently had a lot on your plate.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I did do a ton of laundry before leaving to come here.”

“And besides that?”

“Well, there were dishes too.”

Elliott nodded calmly, internally screaming.

[bunnygirl678]

Ten years. 

Ten years of this bullshit. 

Green tore another plug from the bourbon bottle, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve as he looked around the empty streets.

Ten years of always being placed second. Ten years of spending most of his nights alone. Ten years of Red refusing to come down that arceus forsaken mountain.

[deathbecomesthem]

A little teeny bit of an older!Eddie Munson x older!Fem!reader story I'm working on. Old lovers reconnecting. Think Hallmark movie with some good, olfactophilia heavy smut.

[kai-atlantis]

Start of Chp 20 🥺🙈📝

[pluviophile-who-likes-coffee]

The older I've gotten, the less I understand why people do anything.

A Little Taste by Tia Louise

[soulmvtes]

it's about the small acts of intimacy... forehead kisses, putting jewelry on you, rubbing your hand with their thumb, putting a jacket on you, touching your necklace, running your hands through their hair, wiping away their tears, peeling them an orange, un/zipping their dress, tying their shoelaces, holding hands, removing an eyelash from their cheek, washing their hair, putting an anklet on them, tucking their hair behind their ear, sorting out their collar, untangling their necklaces, drinking out of a cup in their hands

[lazylittledragon]

feral bastard origin story

[hualianschild]

[dapper-lil-arts]

Anyone else surprised that Rarity has zero bitches in cannon

[completelyalien]

I had the idea of the brothers sharing their music tastes with each other. Then it turned into this.

In case you can’t read my handwriting the songs are:

-“Black Bear Road” by C.W. McCall

-“Lay All Your Love On Me” by ABBA

-“Candy Paint” by Post Malone

-“Numb” by Linkin Park

-“Hurt” by Johnny Cash

(Also to be clear, Floyd is happy that Branch has similar tastes in music, not that he’s sad.)

(Also also, I think John Dory would have a complicated history with country music since I love the idea of JD and Delta Dawn being exs lol)

(Also also also Poppy gave Branch the boom box, that’s why is has some stickers on it)

[honehonn3honey]

Birthday boy 🎂

[thelostmoongazer]

yeah he's baby girl or whatever

[ruushes]

images of this nature keep manifesting on my hard drive

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

im a simple guy! i think about puppy Barnaby. i promptly explode into bloody heart-shaped confetti

[inkly-heart]