Freshly dealt
Love stories, dealt one card at a time
Thirty cards from our story deck — each with a suit, an upright and a reversed meaning, and a reader's note written with AI. Draw the ones that keep turning up for you.
XVII — Written in the Stars (The Star Route)
The seventeenth Major re-drawn as a night sky over a railway: fated, mapped, moving.
Six of Cups — The Garden Gate
Six cups left on a garden wall: the small-town reunion card, latch still unlocked years on.
Page of Pentacles — The Quiet Signal
A Page studying a message that was never sent: the slow-burn workplace card, in low light.
Four of Cups — Stay Awhile
Three cups ignored and a fourth offered under a porch roof: the small-town slow burn.
Seven of Swords — Checkmate Love
Seven blades stolen off the board, mid-match: enemies to lovers in sixty-four squares.
Two of Swords — Between the Lines
Two blindfolded blades across a conference table. Enemies, co-authors, something worse.
X — Where Paths Meet (The Crossing)
The tenth Major, a wheel of train timetables: fated strangers, one shared platform.
Page of Swords — Mistress Daria (The Name on the Step)
By day a name and a door that locks from outside. The Page waits on the step after dark.
XX — Exchange Rate (The Settlement)
Twenty is the card of reckoning: every favour across that bar accrued interest.
V — Yes, Professor (The Examiner)
The fifth Major, turned on his head: the man who grades everything, finally graded.
0 — Country Girl (The Newcomer)
Numbered nothing, like the Fool: boots on marble, one summer, the whole city watching her step.
Ace of Pentacles — If Love Could Write
An offer letter folded into a coin: the slow-burn workplace card, first draft of everything.
Knight of Swords — A Map to Us
A Knight holding the map upside down, a rival who will not say so. Travel, enemies, eventually.
Six of Swords — Our Next Chapter
Six blades in the hull and the boat still floats: the second-chance crossing.
Ten of Cups — Nearly Magic
Ten cups and a kitchen full of people who chose you. Almost a spell; mostly a Tuesday.
The High Priestess — The Rose Window
The Priestess behind coloured glass: forbidden historical love kept in light it cannot escape.
XV — The Velvet Promise (The Vow)
The fifteenth Major in velvet and candlewax: a historical vow made where no vow was permitted.
The Intermission — After Her
A Major card for the goodbye that never finished. Lights down, not out.
Knight of Wands — Mistress Daria (The Lock)
The Knight rides toward the one door he was told to leave alone. Naturally.
Eight of Pentacles — A Fine Thread
Eight coins and a needle: craft, patience, a colleague who keeps finding reasons to stay late.
Ace of Cups — First Light Forever
One cup filling with dawn: the slow-burn card you pull when the night finally gives way.
Three of Pentacles — The Open Door
Three coins, three hands, one porch light left on. The card of a town that builds you a place.
Two of Pentacles — Belong to Her (The Contract)
Two coins in the air: business until noon, and whatever she calls the afternoon.
Queen of Wands — Belong to Her (No Curfew)
The Queen who sets the hours. She owns the night; the day is merely leased.
Nine of Cups — A Little Forever
Nine cups on a low shelf, within reach of the people who stayed. A small wish, granted slowly.
Eight of Wands — Tides Between Us
Eight wands crossing water at speed: long-distance love carried by messages, ferries and nerve.
Three of Swords — After Her (Three Floors Up)
Three blades, three floors, one lift that keeps stopping where it should not.
Five of Swords — Cheating in the Suite (The Unlatched Door)
Five blades, a booked-out hotel, and one door on the floor that will not stay shut.
Two of Cups — A Story for Two
Two cups raised over a shared desk: friends first, co-workers second, the rest overdue.
Four of Wands — Yes, Professor (Office Hours)
Four posts and a ribbon: the hour on the door that turned into something with a ceremony to it.