#young baby tate

[critterzstimz]

STUPID by Ashnikko feat. Young Baby Tate stimboard

-Mod 🪼

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[1000-year-old-virgin]

Baby Tate - Grip

[mishkakagehishka]

Every day i open insta and then come on here to talk ab #society

[urlocalspotifyenthusiast]

my music habits have been super basic lately. exes by tate mcrae and million dollar baby by tommy richman. i cant help it, it helps me lock in!!! i have so much homework

[silverzoomies]

Summer Wind

tate langdon x reader smut

warnings: existential crisis, death, afterlife, implied/referenced character death, murder, angst, aged-up tate langdon, fingering, fingerfucking, kissing, canon divergence

word count: 4,690

a/n: another drabble. y'know that thing people do sometimes? where they "age-up" a character, but don't really age them up? i initially wrote this in response to that. but it somehow turned into a means of venting my existential terror instead. i was gonna include more smut. but tbh i didn't feel right about it. this one's gonna stay unfinished. sorry about the abrupt ending !!

inspired by the song summer wind by frank sinatra

You were dead for an indiscernible span of time.

You couldn't be sure how long. But you suspected a few years, at least. Through one of the top floor windows of your eternal purgatory; you watched the trees. Nature alternated between skeletal displays of branches, to vibrant arrays of color. Withered. Blooming. Withered. Blooming. Withered. Blooming again. Rinse and repeat.

Once you accepted your fate, things started clicking into place. Trapped in a vintage hotbox of murder, you put together the pieces of a long lost puzzle. And though some parts were still absent, you pushed yourself to move on. You might never figure out how you died, or who you were before. But to worry so much would be senseless at this point.

Through acceptance, you began to feel again. If only in small bursts. Abrupt, but worth cherishing.

One memory remained ever present. You had the sense you were a school guidance counselor in life. And in death, you took up the mantle again. Offering your services to the other souls lost in the house. One of the ghostly residents shared a similar occupation. Way back in his breathing years. He didn’t do it so much anymore. Instead, he spent time with his family, working towards redemption for his past actions.

You steered clear of most residents, fearful of their unpredictable episodes of bloodlust. They allowed the evil within the house to lure them further into madness. On the days they came to you for your services, you spoke to them in hopes they’d find absolution. Change in the afterlife was extremely difficult to achieve. Your 'clients' rarely ever scratched the surface of their tainted psyches. And any progress they made, they always resorted to their old habits in the end.

Only one of them ever found true change. Of course, he had to be the most wretched of them all.

You once felt sympathy for Tate, making excuses on his behalf. In the years when his heart still pumped blood through his veins; he was young. Misguided. Perhaps the pressures of his upbringing took too much of a toll on him. And in the afterlife, he suffered under the influence of the house itself. The evil buried deep within channeled through his broken soul.

But if such an evil did exist, it never took hold of you. Nor did it sink its venomous teeth into Violet, or her innocent mother, or that pure of heart baby, or even Ben Harmon himself - sinful a man as he was. They resisted, and so did you.

Tate was pure evil. Carnage incarnate. Maybe that made him susceptible to the influence of dark forces. But after talking with him for a few years, you accepted him for what he was. Foul from birth, deplorable in death. No matter how often you tried guiding him to goodness, he remained forever loathsome. The evil in him burned eternally, needing no kindling.

His own acceptance of that fact allowed him to change. In a more physical way, much like Moira. Tate embraced his fate, convinced the house was where he belonged. A punishment until the end of all things. Simultaneously, a safe haven from whatever lay in waiting after purgatory. Tate’s progress was very much real. Albeit, not the kind you aimed for.

You could see his growth in his features, rather than his morals. Sitting across from you during another weekly session, Tate fidgeted with a frayed hole in his jeans. With his blond brows creased, he stared down at the denim. As you watched him like this, you picked apart his finer details. Where his skin once beamed with the pale, ghostly image of youth; creases were now etched in. Faint, but noticeable lines curved under his eyes.

An aura of maturity emanated from him like a light much too dim. Tate carried the same mannerisms from his heyday - if one could even call it that. But he had long since graduated from his mentality of that era. Tate spoke of his past actions as if he regretted them, though you suspected he felt no real remorse. He used to cry all the time. He used to throw childish tantrums. But you couldn’t remember the last time you saw his soulless, black eyes water. Now…

He carried nothing but cold desolation. Common amongst those trapped in perpetual limbo.

“I saw her again today.” He admitted, his lidded eyes flitting up to meet yours, “She hasn’t changed any. Not like me. Not like…” Tate made a gesture at his face, his thumb grazing the angular shape of his jaw. Tiredly, he blinked, “Not like this. Fate’s a funny thing, isn’t it? I always thought we were fated to be together forever, but…”

On the sofa across from him, you kept your cheek perched in a hand. As you scribbled in your notebook, you took note of the way Tate’s features bled misery. All at the mention of her. It must have been painful for him, watching her stay the same. While he finally outgrew himself. Those changes only further separated the two of them. Obliterating any chance he had to make amends. If there ever was.

There especially wouldn’t be now. Even Tate was on the tailend of coming to terms with it.

“How’d it make you feel this time around?” You pressed in a soft tone, shifting on the couch. His dark hues zeroed in on your thighs, bare in a simple dress. The lining appeared cheap, glittering with sequins reminiscent of childhood nostalgia, “When you saw her?”

“Fuckin’...I dunno…” Tate put his face in his vascular hands, fingers curling into his hair, “She’s like a kid to me anymore. What am I supposed to think?”

“Maybe she’s content like that. In the same way you’re content the way you are now.” You shrugged, tenderly laughing, “Maybe teenage angst suits her that much.”

He shook his head, shifting from a criss cross position on the loveseat across from you. Bouncing a leg, Tate gave you a pointed look. His brows turned downward.

“We thought it fit me too, didn’t we? But look at me now."

You were. You were looking at him a lot. And he wasn't wrong. Teenage angst once paired well with Tate's immature nature. Back when he thought like a kid, and acted on impulse. These days, he'd become more lethargic. When he wasn’t consumed with blood lust. Rugged virility was his partner now. Coupled with the melancholy existentialism of a man pushing thirty.

“You wanted to move on.” You clarified, your teeth clicking the edge of a pen at your lips.

“Did I?” Tate bitterly laughed, the empty vacuums of his eyes caught your tongue in motion, “Doesn't seem like anyone else here wants to. ‘Cept Moira.”

“Well, they only think they can’t. They believe they’re tethered here, frozen in time at their moment of death. I used to think growth was impossible too. Until you…”

You took in his masculine features again. The scruff around his chin. So fair, and not too noticeable. Catching yourself in the midst of ogling him, you redirected your gaze to Tate’s eyes. Imposing. Starless. Easy to get lost in. He wasn’t ignorant to your attraction. A hint of grin pulled into his laugh lines and dimples.

“Does it scare you?” He asked, “What’s your excuse then?” Tate threw a condescending nod of his head, “If you’re so enlightened. If you know better than all of us - with your morals ‘n bullshit like that. Why haven’t you changed any since you died?"

Shrugging, you looked bashfully down at your notes.

“Why would I want to? If I can stay young for eternity. If I can keep these curves, and what’s left of my youth. What’s the point in growing older?” You admitted in truth.

“That’s a little superficial though, isn’t it?” Tate leaned back into the loveseat cushions, “Shit like that doesn’t matter here. Who are you tryna impress? And what’s anybody living gonna think? When they meet you, and find out you’re nothin’ but food for maggots now.” He teased, legs spread, one knee bouncing, “There’s gotta be another reason you haven’t moved on. You’re not like us. I dunno why you and the Harmons don’t just…y’know…go.” He trailed off, his gaze falling to his lap.

You saw his bitterness return in full force. Another miserable wave of longing washed over him. Yearning for something that didn’t exist anymore, and never would again.

“I…” You paused, doodling hasty flowers in your notebook. You avoided Tate’s eyes, “I wanna know how I died first. I wanna know who I was. Before I even consider moving on.”

Sinister acidity flashed through his vision, “Seriously? That’s what’s stopping you?” Tate huffed a harsh laugh, admitting without missing a beat, “You wanna know how you died? I’ll tell you. I stuck a knife in your back and stabbed you to death.” He confessed, monotone, “You know it too. You’ve known since we met. You’ve just been in denial this whole time.”

You sat up in an abrupt movement, scooting forward and tossing your notebook away.

“What?! What are you even talking ab-…I’ve been trying to figure this out for years, Tate! Years!” You threw out your hands, “You…you can’t be serious! Why would I be in denial about something like that??”

Tears of betrayal stung the corners of your eyes. Tate shrugged, seemingly unbothered. He crossed his arms, his eyes dark under the ridges of his brows.

“‘Cuz you feel bad for me. Or…uhm…you wanna feel bad for me.” He shrugged again, “Fuck if I know why. I’m the last guy you should have sympathy for.” Tate said, his black hues narrowing in thought.

“You didn’t…did you really stab me? Really? You’re not lying about that?” You almost shouted, clawing your fingers through your hair, “Please. Please tell me you’re lying!”

Tate appeared unfazed, ignoring you, “Do you love me or something? Is that why you’re so broken up about this?” He asked, desperate in his infinite search for validation.

“Why the fuck would you stab me?!” You shouted, full of wrathful turmoil.

You stood off the couch, surging toward him with your fists balled at your sides. Tate didn’t flinch. He pursed his lips, thoughtful again. With an insufferable aura of nonchalance, he shrugged once more.

“Wanted to.”

The blank emptiness in his expression told you everything you already knew. Tears streamed down your face, painting your cheeks and chin in damp threads.

“Where? Where did you stab me??”

Tate gestured with a nod of his head, towards the only window in the room. A summer breeze fluttered, catching the curtains in its dance. You wanted to find the radiant light of nature beautiful again. But it only served as a haunting reminder - the environment remained symbiotic with time. And you were forever left behind.

“Over there. By that window.” He said, watching you pad over to said window, the skirt of your dress fluttering.

The window. In the one room you always felt so drawn to, for reasons unknown. Now, you knew. Bracing your hands on the windowsill, you peered your head outside. Ghosting your skin, the air breathed an essence of life. Something you were no longer a part of. You used to be content with that fact. But now? Knowing your life was unfairly ripped from you, how could you ever move on? Your death wasn’t an accident. Nor had an irreversible illness seized your physical form. Just Tate.

His low voice droned from behind you and in your ear. A faint vibration followed, along with a presence at your back. You felt the soft texture of his sweater, but no body heat with it. One of his icy hands met your shoulder. He reached his other arm out. Tate pointed to a spot near the entrance gates.

“I didn’t wanna tell you. Because I didn’t wanna lose you too. But…” He paused for a beat, “It was on Halloween. Ten years or so years ago, I guess. I was gonna leave. Make my rounds. Y’know…like I used to. The house was-uh...up for grabs back then. You came up to the door. One of the kids here opened it for you. And you kinda...walked in. Tried lookin' for 'em. Wrong place, wrong time.” Tate lowered both his hands to yours, after sliding his fingers down the sides of your arms, “You were holdin’ hands with some kid the whole time. He had to be, like…seven? Eight? I don’t even remember what his costume was.” His lips curved in a grin, “But I still remember yours.”

Your fingers curled into the sill, scraping wood, indenting the paint.

Ten years.

“So, you stabbed me in front of a child?”

Another breeze blew by. The steady air picked up your dress with it, flitting delicate fabric. Glitter along the seams of it fell away, sparkling like microscopic crystallites in the wind. Tate’s long fingers drew patterns over the cold surface of your skin. Tracing infinity symbols onto your hands.

“Rapunzel.” He whispered, “That dress was kinda pretty on you. Sucks about all the blood.”

You remembered then. When death imbued you with unexpected consciousness, you wandered around the house in a blood-stained dress. And ever since, your afterlife wardrobe alternated only between dresses of similar styles. Always cheap fabrics. Decorated in craft materials. You assumed you must’ve loved playing dress up in life. The thought of perishing in a store bought Halloween costume never crossed your mind.

“Who was he?”

You sniffled, breath hitching without any need for oxygen. Tate brought a hand to your cheek, wiping away your tears. He loomed behind you. A cold-blooded apparition of your nightmares. His casual talk of violent depravity made your blood boil.

“Who, the kid?” He asked.

He lowered his hands to the sill. Looking out the window over your shoulder, Tate squinted in the sunlight.

“Yes! I don’t-” You burst into tears without warning, sobbing into your hands, “I-I don’t remember anything! Nothing! I had no idea…who was he??”

“Dunno…” he dropped his head, pressing his cheek to your hair, “I didn’t really stop to ask. He ran away. Right after I pushed you out of this window.”

“You pushed m-what?! You’re a fucking monster.” You whimpered. Wishing you could leap out and disappear with the oscillation of the wind, “You know you’re never getting out of here, don’t you? You’re never going to change, Tate. You’ll always be a monster.”

“Probably.” He droned, wrapping his arms around your middle. Pulling you closer, he added, “You’ll be stuck here too. If you don’t let go of that anger. If you let your rage consume you. All that bitterness and hatred. This house feeds off of it.” Another pause. He nuzzled the top of your head with his cheek, “Uhm…I know this won’t fix anything. But…I really am sorry I took your life from you.”

You huffed, staring teary eyed out the window. Taking in the vast, effervescent world you’d never be a part of - through the border that brought your demise.

“But I’m really stoked you’re here….’cuz it’s not as lonely with you around.” He admitted.

“I could always tell you to fuck off.” You choked, venomous in your revulsion.

“Yeah. You could. But you won’t.” He grabbed your arms with gentle hands, wheeling you around to face him. He took your tiny fingers in his palms. You refused to meet his eyes, “If you made me disappear, you wouldn’t have anybody.”

You decided to hit him where it hurt, strangling through tears, “I could always talk to Violet. She has such a good heart. Not like the rest of you. You’re all just…awful. So horrible and cruel!”

Tate clenched his jaw, dropping his forehead into yours.

“You’re right. She’s not.” He woefully mumbled, “How come I still miss her, huh? Been missin’ what we had for, like…forever. Now I’m pushin’ you away too. And you’re all I have left.”

“Maybe stop killing people, Tate?” You snuffed, tears catching your eyelashes. He wiped them away all the same, “Who knew death could be so miserable. I…I finally found out the one thing I’ve wanted to know after all these years. I thought a little closure might help me, but…” You cried, “I feel even more messed up.”

“Why? Do you love me?” He pressed with so little confidence, you felt he only said it to convince himself.

“I…” You hesitated, brows furrowed, “I cared about you. Even though you’re a lunatic. I wanted to give you a chance. But now…now I just want to shove you out this window like you did to me. I want to scream at you, Tate! I want to make you suffer! I want to-”

He shifted closer. Within this vicinity, his maturation became all the more clear. Your weeping hues glazed over the creases under his eyes. The blond bangs of his hair had thinned by a smidgen, losing its youthful shagginess. He was all fine lines and outward exhaustion. Had you met him like this in life, you’d think him a mere decade away from a mid-life crisis.

“Go ahead. If it helps. I don’t mind.” He reached down again, grabbing your hands and guiding them up to his chest, “Just let all that rage go…you can take it out on me.”

This was just another tactic of his. An attempt to appease you, in desperate hopes you’d forgive him. Still, you didn’t think twice. Whatever wrathful anguish you kept buried inside finally erupted. The soul crushing weight of loss tumbled down over you, sending you into a frenzy. You thrashed your arms, throwing your fists in shallow, but sharp strikes. Battering against Tate’s chest, you landed every blow - inspired by betrayal. He remained still, watching you with a hollow look.

Hits turned to scratches as your grief took hold of you. You clawed into Tate’s sweater, wailing, powerless to the pain of his disloyalty. Taken aback by your overwhelming emotions, you wondered how the afterlife could bring so much suffering. Tate wrapped his arms around you again, and you buried your nose in his sweater. Your sorrowful tears stained the stitching.

“I hate you. So much. So fucking much.” You whimpered.

“You said you cared about me.”

“I hate that I care about you.” You cried, sobbing into his sweater, “I-I want to hate you. I need to hate you. But you’re right. You’re fucking vile, and you’re right. If you were gone, I wouldn’t have anybody else.”

Shifting again, he tilted your head up with a cold hand under your chin. Tate stared down at you, weary with lonesome desolation. The endless monotony of purgatory brought forth nothing but turmoil. And that turmoil linked you both in all-consuming angst. When he dove in to kiss your lips, you allowed it. If only to feel something far less painful.

Tate hadn’t kissed anyone in over a decade. But he flowed naturally with you, wary of applying too much pressure. The last of your tears fell, and again, he wiped them away. Separation came slow, as he parted from your lips. He blinked, leering like he couldn’t believe you reciprocated. Another beat, and he dove in all over again.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

Kissing in your ghostly state felt bleak as the dull air of winter. In the throes of lonesome yearning, death nuzzled death so intimately. You opened yourself up for him, moving back until you hit the windowsill. In your negligence, you sat on it. A calm, easy breeze enveloped your back, tickling your neck. His desirous kisses swallowed you in, his hands claiming your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his words weaving through every kiss.

Fate had yet to deliver you closeness of this kind. You couldn’t fathom how intimate connectedness might work in death. As Tate’s cold lips fell to your neck, the atmosphere between the two of you shifted. Something akin to the radiance of life saturated the air. Like the summer’s glow shining from outside. A few seconds more, and coldness turned to heat. Sensual heat.

“What does it feel like?” You asked, breathless without the need for air. You tipped your head back. Tate took this as an invitation to ravish more of you, “To make love after dying?”

The glossy warmth of his tongue painted gradual lines across your neck. He caressed you with a thumb, gliding the digit over your cheek. Under the newfound heat of his palm, you felt burning intensity. No one else brought you physical touch like this. Not since a time before you perished, so long ago.

All because of him.

“Feels kinda the same?” Tate muttered in a hushed voice. Capturing your lips again, he kissed you with cautious tenderness, “It’s a lot like being alive…from what I remember. Some of us get addicted to it. Like a drug. They suffer without it. Drives ‘em crazy.”

His forehead fell to yours once more, and Tate’s eyes fluttered shut. He continued stroking your cheek, cradling your face. As if you’d disappear once he let go. You noticed the way his chest heaved. Slowly, like his lungs were still infused with the essence of life. But when he moved in for another kiss, you felt no breath on your lips.

“Does it drive you crazy?” You whispered between kisses, “Do you suffer without it?”

“Not really.” He said, dragging his thumb over your lip, “Missed this, though. I miss it all the time.”

“What? Kissing?”

Tate nodded, blond brows creasing as his smile faded. For a beat or two more, he fell silent. Staring down into your eyes with all the liveliness of a barren void. You gazed into a cave-like abyss, lost with no light to guide you. Beckoned by the promise of something unseen.

“This feels…different…with you.” He whispered.

“Different how?” You shivered as his soft touches moved elsewhere, "Are you feeling guilty? Does it hurt? I hope it fucking hurts."

Dragging the tips of his fingers up and down your arms, he drew invisible lines with his nails. So careful. Like you’d shatter if he treated you too roughly. His palms settled over your hips, and again, he kissed you. Tate just couldn’t seem to stop doing so, even as you spoke to him with poison on your tongue.

“No. It’s warmer.” He squeezed your hips a little tighter, “Why…why’s it so warm with you?”

The initial kisses between you both were so frigid and lifeless. But now, somehow, so heated and real. You locked your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles. Inviting him forward, you loomed in the sill of the window. Your body tilted. In the arms of the summer’s air, you almost fell backwards. You had every reason to believe Tate would let you plummet.

But he didn’t. Not this time.

With an arm wrapped around your waist, he kept you from slipping. Under your dress, his free hand sought the heat between your legs. His palm cradled warmth over thin cloth. Discreetly, he pressed the pads of his fingers to your sex over your panties. And the contact amplified a scorching fire within you. A vigor exceeding the bitterness of death.

You wondered if Tate had less experience than he claimed in therapy. It took him a few tries before he found your clit. His sizable fingers circled your little nub in easy motions. Drawing long, needy noises out of you. Silence lingered between you both in calm, but tense quiet. Until the rasp of his voice caught your attention.

“Do you feel this? Do you feel, like…anything?”

You whimpered in response - timid like a churchmouse - as wetness stained Tate’s fingers through fabric. Cotton once so pure and untouched became damp. He chuckled, the sinister rumble in his throat making your blood run cold. Until the warmth of desire lured you in before you could second guess yourself. Savoring the hot friction on your pussy, you allowed sin to taint your clarity.

"For you? No. Never. You're sick. You're twisted. You're-" You cut yourself off with another whimper, once Tate caressed you with more pressure.

“Oh, shit…” He hastily tugged your panties down your thighs. Cupping your bare cunt, he pressed firmly into your clit. Thick digits teased the blazing heat of your folds, “You do, don’t you?”

Tate’s fingers dipped into your slick valley, his digits predominantly larger than your own. You rolled your hips just a smidgen, careful not to lose your balance - lest you fall out the window. Again. Though, maybe a rough tumble onto the lawn would knock some sense back into your muddled head. His other arm stayed iron locked around your body, keeping you safe. He eased inside you with all the hesitance of a man out of practice.

"F-Fuck! Fuck this. Fuck you." You mumbled, hushed under airy moans.

Following the squeeze of pleasure in your core, came something you lost in the afterlife. You almost felt the pumping of your dead heart again. A ghostly sensation of life blossomed under your ribs. Warmth flowed through your veins in syrupy bliss. Cozy wind billowed from outside, tickling your skin. If you closed your eyes for long enough, basking in the ecstasy of true feeling - you might’ve believed you were somehow revived.

Flitting your lashes, your eyes gradually opened. The sunny glow of afternoon light painted Tate’s aged features, showering him in golden rays. An image far too heavenly for a cold-blooded monster birthed from sin. You looked lazily into his hues. A whirlpool of guilt intermingling with lifeless cruelty; all within his dusky eyes.

“Feels like…” He mumbled, clumsily nuzzling your clit with the pad of his thumb. Biting his lip, Tate stifled a groan. He buried his fingers to the knuckle in your cunt, “...like I can feel your blood pumping.” Adding a third digit, he stretched you open. Your walls made effortless room just for him. You whined, making him smirk, “Fuck, this is hot. You love it, huh?”

"No. No. No, I'd never! Not with you. I'm just-" You swallowed, feeling your cheeks burn, "It really does feel like-"

Post-mortem coldness became lost on you now. Left behind, alongside your broken hearted resentment. Instead, you were overcome with the lively spirit of beingness. The afterlife had been so unkind to you. For a decade now. It abandoned you to stew in the longevity of solitude. With no one but Tate to provide you true company. Bringing your hands up to his cheeks, you pulled him in for a kiss. Your fingers threaded through his blond locks. Winding your tongue sloppily with his, you whined.

"Make me cum." You asserted, your legs sealing tighter around him, "Make me cum, and I might forgive you."

A flash of vulnerable sweetness overtook Tate's face, his puppydog eyes lighting up. An almighty flood of euphoria built up to a radiant crescendo, as his digits fucked you into oblivion. You clamped around his fingers, squirming with such intensity - he almost lost his hold on you. Tranquility found you at the peak of your climax. A divine miracle. As you cried little pleas into Tate’s lips, you felt as though you grew angel’s wings. As if some ethereal being descended from the heavens themselves, stole you away, and led you to the golden gates.

As you shuddered, your paradisal tremors eventually subsided. Blissful nirvana faded, and the hollow nothingness of death’s touch came again. Outside, the world continued on in slow-moving seconds. And in the distant horizon, the sun began its steady fall into night. Tate’s nose brushed yours. Looming in so close, he withdrew his drenched digits from your pussy. Leaving even more forsaken emptiness behind.

“I could…do that kinda thing for you every day…if you wanted me to.” He whispered, peppering your forehead in kisses, “It feels really good, doesn’t it? Just…please don’t make me go away? Please…”

[thenickgirl]

nick after aaliyahs first breakup

type: blurb (?) ✩ genre: fluff/comfort ✩ pov: third ✩ word count: 1k

summary: Nick consoles his daughter Aliyah after a breakup

warnings: swearing, a minor swearing, mentions of cheating, use of nicknames/pet names

a/n: a little blurb for my dad!nick au. saurrr i honestly don’t know how long a blurb is supposed to be, and i’m sure i’ve surpassed it, but whatever. i’m so obsessed with the thought of dad nick that i just couldn’t stop writing. anyways, happy reading! ✩

‘And maybe I’ll get used to it

But right now, I just feel like shit’

The family of three sat around the dinner table; Nick, his husband, and their 16 year old daughter, Aliyah.

The pair talked about their day as they always do at dinner, but they began to notice that Aliyah was awfully quiet tonight. Nick was the first to notice, never missing a beat when it comes to his baby girl. He glances over at his husband, who just shrugs, before gently placing a hand on her shoulder, “Liyah, you okay, bunny?” he spoke to her softly.

The young girl didn’t budge, pushing a few grains of rice back and forth on her plate with her fork, too lost in her own thoughts to hear her father trying to get her attention.

“Liyah Jade?” he spoke again, this time a little louder.

“Huh?” the brunette girl snaps out of her thoughts.

“Is everything okay?” the taller man sitting across from her finally spoke up.

“Um, yeah…” Aliyah starts, “Actually, I'm not really hungry. Can I just go to bed?” she asks, her eyes darting between both of theirs, praying they wouldn’t suspect anything.

“But it’s taco night, you love tacos. Are you sure you’re okay? Are you sick, honey?” Nick rambles, reaching his hand up to feel her forehead.

“Dad, please, I’m fine. I just wanna go to bed,” she says, pulling away from his touch, and Nick just nods in approval, taking her plate and wrapping it. The young girl gets up, sauntering to her room. Moments later they hear her bedroom door slam.

“You buying this?” Nick turns to his spouse, his brows raised.

“Not even a little bit. Smells like boy trouble,” the man replies, sighing deeply.

“Shit,” Nick mumbles under his breath.

The pair continued their dinner, as concern lingered in the air about their teenage daughter.

*time skip*

“Knock Knock,” Nick says, peeking his head into his daughter's room.

“Come in,” Aliyah replies weakly, having been crying for the past hour.

She manages to quickly wipe her face clean of tears as he enters. The somber girl was sat Indian style in the middle of her bed, her back pressed against the headboard. Nick approached the queen sized bed, also sitting Indian style in front of her. He takes in her appearance, her hair tossed in a messy bun, instead of the neat french braids she usually wore to bed. Her once bright blue eyes now red, and her lips swollen. His heart ached, wondering what’s got his sweet little girl so down.

“You know you can talk to me, right? No matter what it is,” Nick encourages, and she pulls her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapping around herself for comfort as the tears begin to fall again.

“Oh, Liyah…” Nick says breathlessly, getting up and settling beside his daughter, holding her small frame close to his, and she immediately sobs into his chest. He soothes her, kissing her head, gently rocking.

“What happened, baby? What’s made you so sad?” Nick asks, anxious about what she’s going to say.

“Ryan cheated on me!” Aliyah finally admits, sniffling as she sits up to face her father. Nick’s jaw clenched, and nostrils flared. He could feel his blood beginning to boil, but he knew he had to stay calm in order to console her.

“Bria told me she saw him kissing the new girl outside the gym.” She continues, and Nick looks at her, his eyebrows furrowed as he listens intently to her ramble about the events of today.

“I didn’t want to believe her at first, but she had a picture…It was him, dad! He was kissing her!” Aliyah’s voice cracks, and her father’s heart breaks.

“And when I asked him about her, he said it was nothing, and that I was overreacting. Overreacting, dad! He was kissing another fucking girl, and I’m overreacting?!” She scoffs, folding her arms across her chest.

“So, I asked if he’d rather be with her, and then he didn’t say anything and I-“ the young girl chokes on a sob, and Nick grabs her hand, squeezing it to comfort her.

“I guess it makes sense,” Aliyah trails off, “She’s so much prettier than me,” she whispers breathlessly, a single tear falling to her cheek, and Nick reaches up, wiping it away.

“First of all, you’re my daughter, so I know that’s not true.” Nick rebuttals, and the brunette girl chuckles. “Second of all, that little scrawny, musty, greasy haired, skinny jean wearing idiot didn’t deserve you in the first place.” He continues, brushing her stray hairs behind her ear.

“Boys are dumb, sweetheart, especially boys your age. Never let the stupid things they do make you start thinking differently about yourself. Honey, I know this is your first heartbreak and it sucks, and unfortunately it won’t be your last. But I can promise you, he’s going to be the one crying soon enough. You’re beautiful, smart, funny, creative, and talented. All great qualities you got from me.” He says nudging her arm, and she laughs.

“Oh dad, so modest,” Aliyah teases sarcastically before giggling.

“I’m serious, you’re fucking awesome, kid!” Nick chuckles. “Years ago you couldn’t have paid me to be a dad. But now, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. To this family.” Nick admits, draping his arm around her shoulder, leaning his head against hers.

“I love you, thank you, dad. You always know how to make me feel better.” Aliyah beams, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug, inhaling his scent, finding comfort in his warmth.

“That’s what I’m here for, bunny. You can always talk to me, or dad about anything. I mean it, whatever it is. I'll always be there for you. I love you so much, baby girl.” He says, rubbing her back softly, as they sat in silence for a moment.

“Daddy?” the girl mumbles against his shoulder.

“Hm?” Nick hums, still holding her.

“Can I have my tacos now?” Aliyah mumbles again, and Nick laughs, pulling away to look at her.

“Girl! I fucking knew you wanted those tacos! Come on.”

*time skip*

“So?” the taller framed man utters, as Nick stomps into their shared bedroom.

“I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch, Ryan!” Nick huffs, before continuing, “He fucking cheated on her, babe, MY…I mean, our baby girl.” Nick scoffs, as he paces the floor, mumbling obscenities under his breath.

“Well, unfortunately we can’t kill him, but we could egg his car,” the man suggests, getting up from the bed, smirking.

Nick’s lips curl into a devilish grin, “You start the car, I’ll get the eggs!”

—

✎ signed,

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ✩

a/n: guys i’ve never written in third person before, so i’m sorry for the repetitive descriptions of the characters. i don’t actually know what i’m doing 😭

🏷️: @muwapsturniolo @mattslolita @sturnioloslvtt @asherrisrandom @freshloveee @freshloveforthefit @maliaforstvrns @emely9274 @nicksbestie @soursturniolo @dumbf2ck @ameerahsblog @sturniolossss @nicksgirlfriend

dividers by: @/adornedwithlight @/cafekitsune

[tinfoil-jones]

Tate Pines AU Masterpost

Because I'll do basically anything except actually write a full fanfic for this.

What is the Tate Pines AU?

Complete AU

TLDR: Tate McGucket, originally "Tatum S. Pines" is an oops baby Fiddlestan kid concieved during Stan's drifter years, before Fiddleford was married to Emma-May. Years later Stan joins Ford and Fiddleford in the last few months of building the portal, and after Ford gets yeeted out of the dimension Fiddleford erases Stan and Tates memories of each other, and steals takes Tate because he's afraid Stan will become just like Ford.

One Shots: Goodnight, Never Forget

Quotes: Parenting, Fishing, Reminisce, Reminisce II, Teach 'Em Young, 10 Years

Extra: Tidbits, Little Tate Art, Stan's Lowest Moments, Stan and Tequila, Trans Inclusive Filbrick

Askbox for this AU? Open.

[topguncortez]

G's Official Whumptober 2024 masterlist

warning: This challenge contains heavy material. Please Read with caution. 18+, MINORS DNI.

characters: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Rip Wheeler, Kayce Dutton, Jay Halstead, Will Halstead, Conor Rhodes

requests for whumptober are still open! Any days that haven't been crossed off are free!

whumptober '24 taglist form

1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK Character: Bradley Bradshaw x Dragon Trace synopsis: Dragon had made a promise to herself at young age to never be in a relationship, but all that changed when she met Bradley. Now, years later, she is wondering if she made the right choice to give up that promise. warnings: infidelity, verbal abuse, childhood trauma, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of infant death, cursing, religious trauma, religious abuse.

2: TRUST ISSUES Character: Bradley Bradshaw synopsis: Bradley is forced to go to the annual TopGun ball, but will he be able to put past demons aside, or will he be forced to deal with what he has done warnings: mentions of character death, mentions of sabotaging a plane, guilt, betrayal, cursing

3: SET UP FOR FAILURE Character: Jay Halstead synopsis: Life with Jay had never been easy, and you knew that being with a police officer wasn't going to be easy. But when a newly released criminal starts repeating the same patterns that got him put behind bars, Jay starts to worry about your safety. warnings: cursing, robbery gone wrong, attempted murder, mentions of large amounts of blood, crime scenes, pregnancy, kidnapping, mentions of a non-consensual c-section.

4: HALLUCINATIONS Character: Nick Bradshaw synopsis: You had a thing for the night sky since you can remember, and Goose loves sharing in your obsession. warnings: hallucinations, dying, character death, mentions of graphic injuries, cursing, mentions of cheating, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of an affair, pre-death anxiety

5: SUNBURN Character: Kayce Dutton synopsis: The Montana summers weren't for the weak. You and Kayce have unspoken history. warnings: heatstroke, passing out, vomiting, mentions of abuse, mentions of drug usage, mentions of running away, Monica and Tate don't exist.

6: I REMEMBER EVERYTHING Character: Jake Seresin synopsis: In the aftermath of a crash, Jake tries to remember what happened, but unfortunately, he has picked up some new habits along the way warnings: character death, grief, mentions of drinking, unhealthy ways of coping, brain injury, memory loss

7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES Character: Jake Seresin synopsis: You decide it's time to try and tame the beast, and you go to the one place where you know you'll be able to do it. warnings: drug abuse, drug related death, cursing, mentions of death, detoxing, vomiting, mentions of relapse, mentions of parental death

8: LEAVE THE LIGHTS ON Character: Bradley Bradshaw synopsis: Bradley goes back to work for the first time since him and Dragon welcomed their baby boy into the world. Dragon comes to face to face with her darkest thoughts. warnings: postpartum depression, suicidal thoughts, mentions of a c-section, mentions of having a child in the NICU, crying, infant neglect (not serious or life threatening), mentions of parental death, mentions of previous miscarriages, mental breakdown

9: FRAME ME UP ON THE WALL Character: Nick Bradshaw synopsis: Going to TopGun was a once in a life time opportunity, and the chance of a life time. Being the first female Aviator in the program had a lot of challenges, but being there with your husband had even more. warnings: character death, sexism, cursing, feelings of doom, fear, mentions of parental death, mentions of trying for a child.

10: BLOW TO THE HEAD Character: Jay Halstead synopsis: you had always dreamed of being a police officer, but one bad accident left you with a lifetime of pain. Luckily for you, Jay is the perfect person to be by your side. warnings: car accident, swearing, mentions of child crimes, mentions of sex trafficking crimes, mentions of passing out, mentions of vomiting, slurring words, intense pain

11: PINK SKIES Character: Jake x Shy!Wifey

12: STARVATION Character:

13: TEAM AS A FAMILY Character: Jake Seresin

14: LEFT FOR DEAD Character:

15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA Character: Will Halstead

16: NECROSIS Character: Jake Seresin

17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO Character:

18: REVENGE Character: Jay Halstead

19: BLOOD TRAIL Character:

20: EMOTIONAL ANGST Character: Bradley Bradshaw

21: BODY HORROR Character:

22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES Character:

23: FORCED CHOICE Character:

24: RADIATION POISONING Character:

25: SURGERY Character: Conor Rhodes

26: NIGHTMARES Character:

27: VOICELESS Character:

28: DENIAL Character:

29: FATIGUE Character: 

30: RECOVERY Character: Bradley Bradshaw

31: ASKING FOR HELP Character:

[popgirlshowdown]

the tumblr pop girl showdown and it's the same but there's 96 more artists so it's not

ROUND 1 LINEUP

billie eilish vs naomi elizabeth: NAOMI ELIZABETH taylor swift vs nicola roberts: NICOLA ROBERTS lady gaga vs hannah diamond: LADY GAGA rihanna vs namasenda: RIHANNA sabrina carpenter vs isabella lovestory: SABRINA CARPENTER ariana grande vs nicole dollanganger: NICOLE DOLLANGANGER dua lipa vs kilo kish: DUA LIPA sza vs pussy riot: SZA shakira vs rebecca black: SHAKIRA adele vs brooke candy: ADELE lana del rey vs natalia kills/cruel youth: LANA DEL REY katy perry vs cheetah girls/3lw : THE CHEETAH GIRLS beyoncé/ destiny's child / the carters vs kelela: BEYONCÉ miley cyrus/ hannah montana vs lindsey lohan: MILEY CYRUS doja cat vs hemlocke springs: HEMLOCKE SPRINGS olivia rodrigo vs bree runway: BREE RUNWAY chappell roan vs lauren jaureggi: CHAPPELL ROAN charli xcx vs arca: CHARLI XCX camila cabello vs slayyyter: SLAYYYTER ellie goulding vs sky ferreria: SKY FERREIRIA halsey vs allie x: HALSEY britney spears vs sophie: SOPHIE madonna vs loona: MADONNA tate mcrae vs chloe x halle: CHLOE X HALLE selena gomez vs monaleo: MONALEO kesha vs japanese breakfast/michelle zauner: KESHA rosalía vs muna: ROSALÍA megan thee stallion vs shygirl: MEGAN THEE STALLION ava max vs hilary duff: HILARY DUFF anitta vs paris hilton: TIE cardi b vs janelle monae: JANELLE MONAE becky g vs fka twigs: FKA TWIGS mitski vs hayley kiyoko: MITSKI natasha bedingfield vs caroline polachek: NATASHA BEDINGFIELD christina aguilera vs rina sawavama: RINA SAWAYAMA nelly furtado vs flo: NELLY FURTADO jennifer lopez vs björk: BJÖRK raye vs rico nasty: RICO NASTY mariah carey vs solange: MARIAH CAREY avril lavigne vs tommy genesis: AVRIL LAVIGNE zara larsson vs princess nokia: PRINCESS NOKIA tini vs girls generation: GIRLS GENERATION whitney houston vs poppy: WHITNEY HOUSTON maria becerra vs ethel cain: ETHEL CAIN tyla vs fiona apple: FIONA APPLE florence welch/florence & the machine vs baby tate: FLORENCE WELCH dolly parton vs azealia banks: DOLLY PARTON gracie abrams vs robyn: ROBYN young miko vs st. vincent: ST. VINCENT kim petras vs haim: KIM PETRAS haley williams/paramore vs nessa barrett: HALEY WILLIAMS kacey musgraves vs ashniko: ASHNIKO amy whinehouse vs tatu: AMY WHINEHOUSE lorde vs donna summer: DONNA SUMMER clairo vs ayesha erotica: AYESHA EROTICA latto vs janet jackson: JANET JACKSON julieta venegas vs renee rapp: JULIETA VENEGAS beabadoobee vs addison rae: BEABADOOBEE cyndi lauper vs grimes: CYNDI LAUPER céline dion vs victoria monét: CÉLINE DION pinkpantheress vs villano antillano: PINKPANTHERESS carly rae jepson vs red velvet: CARLY RAE JEPSON kehlani vs diana ross: DIANA ROSS emilia vs aaliyah: AALIYAH gwen stefani/ no doubt vs doechii: DOECHII blackpink vs maggie rogers: BLACKPINK tinashe vs lily allen kylie minougue vs thalía madison beer vs saweetie little mix vs selena ludmilla vs marina diamandis/ marina & the diamonds tove lo vs elyanna laufey vs rita ora melanie martinez vs bad gyal aurora vs phoebe bridgers/ boygenius spice girls vs tokischa fergie vs normani willow vs cher lizzo vs flo milli kate bush vs pussycat dolls

[1000-year-old-virgin]

Baby Tate - Lollipop

[bluewxrld07]

Cut My Hair

Cole Caufield x female!reader x Ethan Edwards

Warning(s): Angst, situationships, intentions of smut, hints to cheating

A/N: will be a mix of instagram posts :) enjoy!

Summary: Based off of Tate McRae's song Cut My Hair

celebrity.news just posted a photo!

liked by yourusername, yourbff and 18,796 others

celebrity.news Young and famous hockey star, Cole Caufield, seen at a club in Montreal after a post game win Saturday night! But the twist? The girl in the photos is NOT his girlfriend, well known social media influencer and future sports broadcaster, yourusername!! Possible trouble in paradise??

Click the link in our bio to read the article, and see all the photos and videos!

load more comments

user1 Oh no poor y/n 🥺

user2 She is literally the sweetest human being, that's so sad. I can't imagine how hurt she is right now.

user3 She must be so heartbroken right now, that girl in the photo is such a fucking home wrecker!!!

user4 I hope she's okay :( Cole doesn't deserve a baddie like her!!

yourbff just posted a photo!

liked by yourusername, edwards.73, trevorzegras, and 111,741 others

yourbff Heartbroken, angry, sad, confused. Those are just a few I feel for you y/n. He doesn't deserve a real girl like you. His loss baby, I'm so sorry. I'm headed your way right now, be there soon 💜

user has limited comments

user1 send her all of our love <3

jackhughes I am in awe. Let her know if she needs anything, I'll be there.

liked by yourusername

trevorzegras this shit isn't right. my heart goes out for her.

edwards.73 Lu and I are driving out right now. Should be there in twenty.

liked by yourbff

colecaufield I'm so sorry

comment deleted by yourbff

*one month later*

yourusername just posted a photo!

liked by yourbff, jackhughes, edwards.73, colecaufield, and 457,596 others

yourusername Just wanna cut my hair, lose myself, make u sweat

load more comments

user1 omfg YALL WAKE UP, MOM POSTED

user2 the hair color??? the BOB??? HELLO?!

user3 oh boy if this is her silently @ ing who I think it is, he's messed up with losing her

yourbff oh what is this? best friend is blessing my feed???

liked by yourusername

yourbff this bob and hair color was the move, my work here is done

liked by yourusername

jackhughes slay bestie

liked by yourbff

jackhughes He's a dumbass

liked by yourusername

user4 No because it is the fact that Cole liked this but didn't comment, speaks VOLUMES

user5 Cole done fucked up, she's about to slay this glow up

edwards.73 I'm bringing the vodka

yourusername please don't, I can't look at another thing of alcohol after last night lmao yourbff If he doesn't bring it, I will

yourusername just posted a photo!

liked by yourbff, edwards.73, colecaufield, and 601,978 others

yourusername just wanna cut my hair, little black dress, can't forget

load more comments

user1 I'm living for these Tate McRae lyrics

yourbff See??? I knew you'd post this one. Fucking hot ass best friend I've got, these men bouta be on the FLOOR tonight

user2 If she doesn't wind up under someone else tonight after what Cole did to her, I WILL CRY

user3 He be creeping on her page tho, I see his ass in those likes.......

tatemcrae a true goddess 😍

liked by yourusername

lhughes_06 I'm keeping an eye on you tonight

edwards.73 easy easy, I called dibs first yourbff Both of y'all put your dicks away, and chill out? After all it'll be me who takes care of my girly tonight 😙 yourusername None of you are taking care of me tonight, I'll be fine 🙄 edwards.73 That's what you said last weekend and whose bed did you wind up in.... yourusername shhhhh 😳 edwards.73 lhughes_06 kept me up most of the night edwards.73 Idk what you're talking about lhughes.43 yourusername me neither

user4 Am I sensing a lil sum sum between Ethan and Y/n???

User2 If it's happening, I neeeeeed to know because I'd be here for it

colecaufield 😧

yourbff just posted a photo!

liked by yourusername, edwards.73, lhughes_06 and 301,473 others

yourbff Just wanna show you, whatever she do, yourusername can do it better

tagged: yourusername, lhughes.43, markestapa, edwards.73

load more comments

markestapa What a fucking night

lhughes_06 I think I need a cleanse after that fiasco...

yourbff You sure it wasn't from the lake you boys decided to swim in at two in the morning?

lhughes_06 Don't remind me 😑 yourusername You guys were wilding' last night lhughes.43 markestapa says the wild one herself 🤔 lhughes_06 Yeah yourusername where did you and edwards.73 disappear off to? edwards.73 Nowhere yourusername Nowhere markestapa where tf did you come from edwards.73 edwards.73 I saw I was summoned, so I entered the chat yourbff All of you get out of my comments and argue in the group chat

user1 Ohhhh boy I smell quite the upgrade for miss y/n....

user2 If y/n is seeing Ethan Edwards I will die happy

user3 I'm so curious as to what's between those two rn. Whatever it is, y/n seems happier than when she did with Cole

liked by yourbff

colecaufield just posted a photo!

liked by jackhughes, kirbydach, trevorzegras, girlusername and 96,736 others

colecaufield Heard you got a new guy, that ain't fair

load more comments

user1 Nah because it's THE WAY he used Tate McRae lyrics from the same song yourusername has been using on her posts.....

user2 Cole my dude... she deserves better after you did what you did

jackhughes come on C you better than this

trevorzegras she deserves better bro, I'm with jackhughes on this one

girlusername See you soon 🥰

user1 lmfao this girl clueless as fuck user3 Oh honey.... you the home wrecker? sheesh.. user4 DAMN talk about a downgrade 🤣 liked by yourusername

user5 Y'all it's fine he's just depressed and in his feels because he be knowing he cheated and lost a good one

yourusername just posted a photo!

liked by edwards.73, yourbff, jackhughes, lhughes_06, trevorzegras, and 817,748 others

yourusername Just wanna get messed up, find myself, in his bed

tagged: edwards.73

load more comments

user1 I KNEW ITTTTTTTT

user2 now THIS is a pair I can get behind

user3 Their kids are gonna be literal heartbreakers wtf

yourbff about fucking time I was getting antsy. Now get dressed we have a brunch to go to today.

yourusername yes mommy 😣 lhughes.43 Can I call you mommy??? yourbff No yourusername No

edwards.73 Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry.

yourusername Have you learned nothing?? edwards.73 you never said I couldn't call you mommy😝 yourusername You're unbelievable edwards.73 Do something about it🤭 liked by yourusername yourbff LET HER GET READY YOU ASSHOLE OR WE WILL BE LATE edwards.73 trevorzegras JOJO.....?? HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING...?! liked by yourusername, yourbff, edwards.73

jackhughes I feel like I need to cleanse my eyes from that conversation thread I just read 😨

yourusername You'll survive

liked by yourbff, lhughes_06, yourusername, markestapa and 778,240 others

edwards.73 Good girls, so overrated

tagged: yourusername

load more comments

user1 Wow now this is an upgrade. He gives her her OWN POST????

user2 Cole could never

user1 He was an embarassment

markestapa WOAH give us all a warning here fifty shades of grey!

yourbff Treat her like a queen, Edwards!!!!!!

edwards.73 No.... I'll treat her like a Goddess 🤩 yourusername How long did you wait to use that one? edwards.73 edwards.73 too long yourusername yourbff Long enough edwards.73

lhughes_06 Is the caption hinting that yourusername is a certified baddie?

yourbff yes edwards.73 yes yourusername yes markestapa yes jackhughes yes lhughes.43 Okay no need for the attack damn

yourusername My Eddy 🥰

edwards.73 My baby 😘

[kit-walk3r]

The Evans as parents

Here’s something a little different 🙈 Enjoy!

Tate

I hate to break it to people but Tate would not be too involved as a dad

He’d probably be one of those dad’s who pops up every once in a while to do something fun then drops the kid back off at home and disappears for another 6 months. Obviously he can’t do that because he’s, ya know, dead but you get the vibe

Ooo, maybe Halloween is the day he does something with his kid. Since he can leave the house Tate goes somewhere, maybe the park, and meets them and they spend the day together before Tate has to go back to the house. Honestly it’s the child’s favourite day of the year and even though they do notice that their father never ages they don’t ask questions because they’re just happy to be with their dad, and Tate is happy to be with them (since it’s just one day he can have fun with them without full parental responsibilities)

⬆️ If the kid isn’t Satan. If that child is anything like Michael then Tate isn’t interested and will continue spending his days being miserable in the murder house

Kit

Isn’t it obvious? Father of the year

Kit spent a good few years as a single father between Grace and Alma’s deaths, Jude moving in (and then dying ☹️) and remarrying and let me tell you, he was the best father to those kids there could ever be

He’s mother and father to those kids. He does everything for them. He makes their lunches for school every morning, braids Julia’s hair, cooks them dinner, makes sure their clothes are washed and ironed etc., everything a mother is expected to do. He plays games with them both in the backyard, as well as with their trucks and dolls, he helps them with their homework, reads them bedtime stories. Anything those kids ask him to do he will do

When he remarries Kit is hesitant about going back to sharing parental responsibilities because he’d spent so long being the sole parent to Thomas and Julia but he slowly lets that go and welcomes you to into the family as a mother figure to the kids

He’s still the only one allowed to braid Julia’s hair though

Kyle

Kyle tries to be the best dad he can be. He didn’t have a great relationship with his own dad since he walked out on him and his mum (which Kyle hates him for since it was a catalyst for what his mother did to him) so he wants to offer his kid a much better childhood than he was given

He doesn’t have the money to buy them expensive gifts or take them on days out or vacations but he tries to make up for that in any way he can. Almost every weekend is spent out doing something that is free, like park or perhaps a museum when they’re older. He just wants to give his kid fun memories that will stick with them

Kyle’s a young parent, barely twenty, with not much life experience so he’s not perfect and he’s going to make mistakes. He has some days where he acts more like a brother than a dad which can often lead to some trouble but he’s doing his best and that makes him a good dad

He completely cuts ties with his mother after his baby is born. He can’t allow her in his life anymore when he’s caring for someone so vulnerable

Jimmy

Jimmy’s probably the most scared of being a dad, mostly because he’s scared that his kid will have hands like him and will face the prejudice and hate Jimmy has faced his whole life and that he won’t be able to protect them from it

His kid has his hands? Jimmy will teach them from day one that they have nothing to be ashamed of and that there is nothing wrong with them. He’ll instil into them that they should be proud of who they are and that they’re special.

His kid doesn’t have his hands? It sounds mean but Jimmy can’t help but feel a slight bit of relief knowing that they won’t be subjected to the things Jimmy was growing up. He’s still as protective over them as he would be if they did have his hands (especially if they’re a girl) but there’s other things he has to worry about (like someone breaking his little girl’s heart because Jimmy is that sort of a father)

Jimmy would make sure your family live a stable lifestyle. No travelling all over the country as a spectacle like Jimmy did growing up. No, you’d all live in house in a nice, safe neighbourhood where the kid(s) can make friends and have a fun, happy, loving life

James

The child would be his pride and joy but let’s be honest, James is rich and from the 20s. He’d have someone else do most of the parenting

James has plans for the child to become his little protege once they’re old enough and he wants to show them all the perfect ways to kill someone (like how he taught the other serial killers from Devil’s Night)

Even if they were just a few months old James would talk to the child as if they were an adult. He refuses to do baby talk and finds it demeaning. No child of his will be spoken to in such a way

Would definitely name that child after himself if they were a boy. James March Jr. If it’s a girl you can choose, he doesn’t necessarily care

Rory

The ‘fun parent’

Rory is essentially a big kid himself so the most caretaking he does for that child is playtime, and at the most inconvenient times. You’ve just got them settled for bed and then Rory comes in and suddenly there’s a game of hide and seek or tag playing

Rory uses his kid to help him rehearse for auditions. If they’re a baby then he’ll just sit them in front of him whilst he practices his lines and pretend they’re the casting director but if they’re older he’ll give them a copy of the script and have them play the other part

Rory will invite his kid to set all the time, much to the director’s frustration. He says it’s because they want to see what their daddy does but it’s really because he likes to show off to them, but also give them a fun day. He’ll let them meet all the other actors and stuff, give them a really fun day

Rory is definitely the type of parent who does matching halloween costumes with his kid

Kai

Kai finally has his Messiah baby

He has a rota for all the girls of the cult to take turns taking care of the child as that’s the woman’s job

He will spend time with the child and will be their dad but he won’t do any of the actual proper parenting stuff. He’ll occasionally read a bedtime story but it will be about some cult leader or something else traumatic which really isn’t appropriate for like a 4 year old but Kai decides that the kid needs to be toughened up straight away

Although he’s quite angry with everyone else, Kai tries to keep his temper to a minimum around the kid. He still clearly resents his own father and the anger and abuse he inflicted on the Anderson family and although Kai has very questionable morals he doesn’t want to be such an awful figure to his child and cause any sort of emotional hurt that could have a lasting effect on him

Austin

Even if he wasn’t taking the pill Austin would have enough inspiration from his child, who would become his muse

This kid would be so impeccably dressed, all their outfits would be perfect every single day. Austin is a fashion icon, why can’t his kid be?

Austin’s self control gets a little better once he becomes a parent. Kids are very accident prone so Austin has had to deal with his fair share of cuts and bruises, meaning he’s had to learn to control himself around blood so he doesn’t do anything stupid (like suck the blood out of their finger like Harry did)

When he’s taken the pill and is writing a new play Austin can be a little… distant. Not neglectful, just that he is so focused on his play that everything else around him is kind of irrelevant? It’s not as if he leaves the kid alone, they’re being looked after obviously, but they’re just not his number one priority when he’s in writing mode :// when he’s not writing he’s the complete opposite and that child is his world

Austin and his kid definitely do karaoke together. Move over Belle, baby Sommers is Austin’s new partner

Peter

Peter’s like Rory and is the fun parent. Remember what he was like with Billy and Tommy in Wandavision? He’s like that 24/7 with his own kid

Good luck if that child ends up a speedster like Peter. They’ll rarely be around. Peter will be racing them all the time. Sometimes he’ll let them win and then act really sad that he’s been beaten by his like 7 year old

If his kid doesn’t have super speed then once they’re old enough Peter will run around with them on his back to make them feel better about it. He even gives them their own mini goggles so they can feel more like dad 🥺

Yet another Evan character with daddy issues who wants to make sure he’s there for his kid since his dad was never there for him

Colin

Colin’s not necessarily the fun parent but he’s the softer parent

He’s the parent the kid will go to whenever they want something because they know he’ll say yes. He’s kind of a pushover like that. He can’t say no to them. He tries to, honestly. He tells himself ‘no more. I’m not letting this kid walk all over me’ but fails every time. All they have to do is pout and suddenly Colin is down $20 or is driving the kid somewhere you’d not let them go

He does have his stricter moments, but they’re rare. If the kid does something pretty serious then this side of him comes out and he will be dishing out punishments like grounding them but he hates doing it and feels awful afterwards, even though he knows it has to be done

He’d do anything for his kid and has considered quitting being a cop just so he can be at home and see them more. Honestly, he kind of struggles being a cop after becoming a dad anyway. He thinks about some of the stuff he’s seen in the past and knows he wouldn’t be able to stomach that if he saw it now he’s a parent

He’s pretty protective, but not overbearing. He’s seen how cruel the world can be and just wants his child to be safe

Dad!Colin fic based on this here

A couple of these I feel like would make cute fics. Would anyone be interested in me fleshing some of these out into oneshots? Let me know!

Taglist: @jellyluvr @howtobesasha @dewberryobssesed @luv4evan @kaismanwich @violetharmonstwin @daylas-life @mariefics

Want to join my taglist? Just reply here!

[rainthespiritual]

Tate Langdon spicy headcannons since I'm 18

if you aren't 18 or over please leave, this is ADULT CONTENT and I better hear 0 shit abt Tate being young or a teen he's a mf ghost and has been since 1993 so SHUT IT

btw I didn't just turn 18 I did a while ago just felt like naming the post that..

anyways this is for all my horny motherfuckers out there ♡ enjoy 😉

GONNA SAY IT AGAIN YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED THIS IS CONTENT SPECIFICALLY MADE FOR THOSE 18 AND OVER

Tate deffinetly gives me switch vibes he basically just wants to do whatever you wanna do

he loves pleasing and making you feel good it's his #1 goal and if he doesn't he will feel shitty until he makes it right..

he hates the idea of hurting you like he doesn't want to slap you hard or go too hard on you because seeing you in pain makes him feel super guilty

he might be into a little choking or some love taps but he's CONSTANTLY asking you if what he's doing is okay

"that won't hurt you right?"

"are you sure baby?"

"I guess if it's okay with you..."

CONSENT IS SEXY YALL AND TATE AGREES

overall he's just a big sweetheart about everything and we love him for that

you had to teach him about safewords and it kind of confused him at first but he got the hang of it

"so I stop when you say that?"

"but what if you say stop i don't stop? just when you say... okay got it"

"I'm still kinda confused actually can you explain it to me again?"

Let's just say the rubber suit he wears isn't just for killing people it's also for killing your pus-

KIDDING KIDDING 🤭

fr tho he'd definitely wear that I can just feel it 😐

AHHH HE'D MAKE A CRINGE ASS SPOTIFY PLAYLIST FOR YOU GUYS

"Tate I'm sorry but I'm not fucking you to deep throat by cupcake"

"why not 😔🥺"

[whorefortheevans]

Pre-Death! Tate Langdon Headcanons Pt. 2

I'm really enjoying writing headcanons so lmk if I should do them for anyone else or do anymore for Tate. Currently, I'm only writing for Tate, Kyle, Jimmy, and Kai from AHS but requests are always welcomed :)

CW: all lowercase, not proofread, mentions of sex, mentions of child abuse (hitting)

tate is one of those kids, so he always tries to convince you to skip class with him

you say no almost every time

almost

the one time he convinces you to skip, you both get caught and the school has to call home

tate being really upset not because he was caught but because of how constance reacts

we all saw her hitting tate so its not unreasonable for him to be scared she'll hit him again

you reassuring him that whatever happens he can always go to you for comfort

detention with him being so unserious

he jokes around the entire time and its more of an after-school free period than a punishment

he loves to bang on the lockers next to you when he knows you can't see him

i feel like he'd get turned on by scaring you or something

if prom is important to you he'll definitely take you (reluctantly), but he'll be attached to your hip and follow you around like a lost puppy

if prom isn't important to you he'll skip with you and hang out at the beach all night

not to be stereotypical, but prom night is the night...iykwim

he's always really good about using protection because he's scared of bringing a baby into the world

first of all, you're both really young

but more importantly, tate's scared of turning out like his mom and being a terrible parent

regardless, sex with him is always good

without going into detail (cuz he's a minor and I don't want to offend anyone...) he knows how to use his tongue and fingers

he definitely learned a lot from porn

(which by the way is not a reliable source to learn about sex so don't depend on it everyone)

he loves spending time in the library with you

even if you guys aren't talking, he loves watching you study or do homework

he always pretends to not understand things just so you'll help him with his work

...which always turns into you just doing his work for him, but its okay because you love him anyway

[oddballwriter]

Appetite

Summary: You have a very high and demanding libido and the boys both are willing to and victim of needing to satisfy it.

Warnings: The reader's gender, exact anatomy, and pronouns are never mentioned but they are a power bottom and or are the ones getting penetrated but are very much in control of the situation. Sub!moon boys and dom!reader if you squint. Groping. Ass slapping (Marc's ass). Overstimulation. Riding. Implied creampies/ not pulling out (wrap it before you tap and or get it). Reader giving oral. Edging.  

Author’s Snip: I'm on my freak shit tonight. Never let me listen to S.H.O. by Baby Tate and Sexy Naughty Bitchy by Tata Young while ovulating or else fictional grown men are getting fucked. Submissive bitches, this one is unfortunately not for you.

Notes: I wrote Jake's part three different times and had to write it after getting off my flow so if it sucks (lol) I'm sorry. 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1,328

The boys love you and everything about you. But one thing that they weren't expecting to come along with you, was your libido. Not that there was anything wrong with you having a huge one. After all, no one who partakes in sex ever complains about it. The problem was what that entails for them and maintaining it.

-

"Baby, please," Marc says under his breath while he feels you hold him from behind and kiss his neck as he washes the dishes from the two of you having finished dinner. Marc wasn't dumb, he knew you were eyeing him up after you came back from work and he had dinner ready for you, and he knows that you know that holding and kissing him like this riles him up.

"What? I'm not doing anything right now," you say as you give the gap between his neck and collarbone another sensual kiss. "Maybe after you're done washing the dishes we can do something if you want." you suggest, teasingly wording it like he's the one who had the dirty idea.

"I would be getting it done faster if you weren't feeling up my waist like that." Marc claps back, making it clear that he can see and feel your hands moving around. "I could be making it worse." you tease as your hands lower a bit and nip at his skin.

Marc stills for a second, trying to keep back a labored breath that would give away that your little touches are getting to him. Well, it's not that good because he knows that if your hands got any lower then you'd feel his hard-on against the fabric of his pants. "Why don't you just take care of it yourself?" Marc suggests, "We were at it last night. Wasn't that good?" Marc mentions.

"But what if I want a second round of last night?" you question as you squeeze him a little tighter. Marc feels cornered, but in a sexy way that really shouldn't be getting him this much. He felt like a fly that was watching itself be rolled up into the spider's silk, or even a mouse getting coiled by a snake. He knew that he had nowhere to run but also didn't hate it either.

"You had plenty of rounds last night-" Marc tries to bring up but the tail end of his sentence is drawn out a bit as he feels your hand travel down his stomach towards the belt of his pants and your pinky finger break through the waistband. He feels his blood rush downwards and also upwards, making his cheeks out in a blush over letting himself slip up. He can sense your smile and doesn't say anything when you reply with "You were saying?" in a smug and snarky tone.

"Just let me finish the fucking dishes first. Please." Marc pleads. "Go to the bedroom or something. I'll wash my hands and be there. Just let me do the damn dishes." Marc says to add to his plea so that you'll stop with the teasing.

Marc almost breathes a sigh of relief when you unsnake your arms form around his body, but you leave with a "I'll be waiting." paired with an extra nip and kiss at his neck and slap on his ass.

-

Hearing the boys moan and overall vocalize their pleasure during sex was something that you loved to hear. But Steven was one of your favorites.

His whines and moans as he came blocked out the sound of the documentary film that you were watching on TV. It was a rerun of something that both you and Steven have watched a few times. So in your mind, you didn't need to hear what they were saying.

Steven let out shakey breaths as he recovered from his high, his third one, to be exact, with you doing the same. He made an attempt to pull away and pull out of you but your grip on his shoulder stopped him from going completely out, making Steven whine.

"Again." you demand as you even out your breath. "But we've already gone three times, love." Steven begs. "Come on. One more time, to make it even." you insist. You sit up just a little from your position on the couch so that you can place your mouth next to his ear and kiss it, knowing full well that that's his own weak spot, and using your free hand to teasingly stroke his stiff cock that's outside of you so that it stays hard.

Steven moans at the touch and feeling on his ear. He knows that you're telling him a lie and that you'll make him keep going till he's nearly passed out, but most of his blood is somewhere else rather than in his brain to help him think clearly. And even then the thoughts that he's having with his other think of head is winning the popular vote.

He's too busy trying to think through his clouded mind that you try to help him out in making the decision for him by pulling him closer to you, making him slowly go back inside of you. Steven shutters and lets out even more small quiet moans as he feels your walls glide along him again. His poor thing is aching from use but he can't seem to get himself to stop wanting to keep going.

Steven makes an attempt to go round four but he can't seem to do it,. So you, again, take the initiative and push him back so that he's now the one lying on the couch and then startle him. Steven gives you a look that shows that he knows you really aren't going to let up any time soon.

-

"Shit~" Jake moans out as you give him head in the backseat of his car.

In the small space, Jake and you can only hear the sound of you bobbing your head and the battered breaths and moans coming from Jake, which is a thing that weirdly gets Jake off more when you two get down in the car.

"Slow down, god." Jake pleads, feeling himself start to come the longer he lets you go on. You look up at him and pop your mouth off but keep him going with your hand stroking him at the same pace. "What's the matter? I thought we were in a spot where no one would see us?" you mention while you glance up at him from your place on the floor of the car.

"We are," Jake repeats as he focuses on not coming just yet, "But if you keep doing it like that I'm gonna...~" he can't finish his own sentence and even think about the last word, or else he will actually lose it. He looked and felt like he was trying to hold in a sneeze.

"I thought you liked it when I made you come fast." you question as you lick the precum from his tip that was leaking out. Jake shivers from the feeling but recollects himself. "I do." he confirms, "You just used me up too much last night and I don't think I've made it back yet." he explains.

"Well then I guess I'll just make you come once." you say before you go back to sucking him off, but this time with a pace that doesn't send him over the edge just yet.

After a while, he starts reaching it again and is more willing to have it happen. Jake starts talking under his breath saying "That's it. Just like that.". Just as he starts reaching his limit and about to get to a point where he can let it all out, you pop your mouth off his cock again. He looks down at you in shock that you suddenly stopped.

"Well, I don't want you to come yet." you smile as you watch Jake lose it and start up again.

[basiccortez]

The Man in the Red Suit

pairing: Rip Wheeler x female!Dutton warnings: minor Yellowstone spoilers ahead (Lee's death, season five things), mentions of grief and death, Rip being a grinch Rip Wheeler Masterlist | Yellowstone Masterlist Yellowstone Taglist Form

Note: Merry Christmas to all! :)

“Why do I have to dress up?” Rip asked for probably the thousandth time since you pulled out the red santa suit, beard and hat. 

“Because it’s Evelyn’s first Christmas and I want her to take a picture with Santa Clause,” You said, curling your hair in the mirror. It was Christmas Eve and your sister had invited the whole family to the house for dinner, drinks and gifts. It was yours and Rip's first Christmas as parents and you wanted it to be perfect. Evelyn was only seven months old so she wouldn’t be able to know if anything went wrong or not, but you would know. 

“And your dad or Kayce can’t but on the ridiculous-” 

“No! It has to be you!” You sighed, putting down the hot iron, “Evelyn won’t sit on my dads or Kayce’s lap. You saw how she acted when we took her to see Santa at the coffee shop.” 

“Well he was a bit-” Rip shut up when you gave him a glare through the reflection of the mirror. He knew better than to argue with a Dutton woman, it was one sure way to get a fist to the face. Rip opened his mouth to say something just as Evelyn let out a cry, “We’ll discuss later.” 

You smiled to yourself as you finished getting ready for the Christmas party. When you walked downstairs your heart warmed in your chest seeing Rip holding Evelyn and looking at the ornaments on the tree. She had his big brown eyes and dark curls, you were amazed how much hair she had at such a young age. She was really her father’s twin, there was no mistaking who she belonged to. 

It was also amazing to see how quickly Rip took on the role of being a father. He had his reservations about it, he was young when his mother died and his father was a monster. It kept him up at night thinking about the type of parent he would be. Would he be mean like his old man? Would his child grow up to hate him? To be afraid of him? For those nine months you were carrying Evelyn, Rip read every single parenting book he could get his hands on. He asked Kayce and John for advice. None of it really made sense to him, but then he saw his babygirl for the first time, and it did. Rip was an amazing dad. 

“Momma is staring at us again,” Rip whispered to Evelyn and kissed her cheek. She giggled at the feeling of his beard on her soft little cheek, “You ready? It’s cold out, and I don’t want her to sweat in the car seat and then go outside. That’s how kids get sick.”

“I am ready,” You nodded, “I just gotta get the baby bag, the gift for Dad and Beth, and the cookies for Tate.” 

“All of that is in the car and it’s running,” Rip said. 

“What would I do without you?” You asked with a smile on your face. You leaned up on your tiptoes and kissed his lips, “Can you put her in the car seat? I’ll grab the Santa suit.” 

Rip rolled his eyes as you skipped back down the hall towards the bedroom, “Your mom is crazy,” He whispered to Evelyn and the little girl turned to face her father, showing him a gummy smile. Rip smiled at his daughter, kissing her cheek again and then going to put her in her car seat. 

The Dutton house was decorated from floor to ceiling for Christmas, which was probably Beth’s doing. She may lie to your face and say she hates kids, but she would do anything to make her niece and nephew smile. Christmas also made her happy, despite what she says, it was the one time of year where all the Dutton siblings seemed to put their bullshit aside for a couple hours. Rip parked as close to the door as he could get, he didn’t want to carry Evelyn that far in the cold weather. 

“You can put the Santa suit on after dinner,” You said as you  walked up the path towards the front door, “While we’re cleaning up and setting up gifts, it will be perfect.” You opened the front door, and walked into the warm smelling house. 

“Yeah,” Rip said as he walked in behind you. 

“Aunt Y/N, you’re here!” Tate yelled running up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“Hey bud,” You kissed the top of his head, “Have you grown again?” 

“Probably,” Kayce said, and greeted you with a quick kiss on your head, “Wakes up five inches taller than the night before. Where’s the little one?” 

“Rip’s got her,” You said and nodded your head over to the living room where Rip was taking Evelyn out of her car seat, Monica waiting for her chance at baby snuggles, “How is she?” 

“Better,” Kayce sighed, “I think having Evelyn on Wednesdays helps. She might have gone a tad overboard with the gifts for her, but it’s her first Christmas.” 

“If you think Monica has spoiled her, wait until you see what Beth has put under the tree,” Your dad said, also giving you a kiss on the head in greeting, “Gator is ready to serve dinner.” 

“Sounds good, daddy,” You said and then walked over to your husband, who was watching Monica hold his daughter. Monica was slowly looking better since the loss of her son John. It was actually her that asked if she could babysit Evelyn for you while you were spending time going back to work for your dad’s new role as governor. It was nice to see her smile again. 

“Dad wants us at the table,” You said to them. 

“Thanks Y/N,” Monica said, and handed you your daughter, “She looks like she’s feeling better.” 

“She is. Thank you very much for those tips,” You smiled at the woman before she walked off to go find her own family. 

Gator probably spent the whole day working on the Christmas dinner for the Duttons. The table was stocked full of ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, all the fixings. John sat at the head of the table like he usually did, you and Beth on either side of him. Rip sat next to you, and Tate on the other side of him. Kayce sat on the other end, with Monica on his left. There usually was one more person at the table, but Jamie had turned down Beth’s (not so nice) invite. John had dug around in the basement for the high chair that they’ve had since you were a baby to put Evelyn in. She sat between you and John. 

“So, Tate,” Beth said, taking a sip of her wine and looking up at you with a glint in her eye. She knew of your plan to get Rip into the Santa costume and hopefully telling Tate outloud will help seal the deal, “I hear Santa is coming by.” 

“He’s not real,” Tate answered and Rip looked at you with a shit eating grin, “I’m not five anymore.” 

“See, he’s not five, and Evelyn is too-” 

“You are putting on the damn Santa outfit,” You harshly whispered to him, “If I have to stuff you in it myself, you’re putting it on.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” Rip challenged and you glared at him. Kayce watched as the small stare down between you and Rip was broken up by Evelyn throwing a piece of bread on the floor. He could see that the whole Santa thing was somewhat bothering you, he knew you well enough to know how much Christmas means to you. You only got to spend one Christmas with your mother before her death, and you cherished the family moments like this. 

“Act surprised when he gets here,” Kayce whispered to his son, “For Evelyn.” 

“Why?” Tate asked, “She’s just a baby.” 

“Because it means alot to Aunt Y/N,” Kayce said and then cleared his throat, “She only had one Christmas with our mom, and it meant a lot to her. The only pictures she really has are of her, Santa and our mom.” 

Tate looked down at his food, and then up at his dad. In his short life, he had gone through a lot, and had witnessed loss at first hand. He looked over at his aunt who excused herself from the table to take care of his younger cousin. He thought to himself that there would’ve been two babies at Christmas, but instead, there’s just one. 

Tate nodded, “Okay. I will, I promise.” Kayce smiled at his son and patted his shoulder. 

When everyone's bellies were full, the family retired to the living room, where they started opening gifts from the large pile underneath the Christmas tree. You sat on the floor with Evelyn on your lap, helping her tear into the packages that Tate was handing her. She was having more fun sticking the wrapping paper in her mouth than trying to open the gifts. Both Beth and Monica had their phones out making sure to take pictures to capture the moments. The men all sat back with drinks in their hands, talking about cattle and giving the occasional “oh that’s cool” when it was needed. 

“Tate, why don’t you help Evelyn open the gifts from us,” Monica and moved down on the floor next to the kids. 

“I noticed you don’t have the Santa costume on,” You whispered to Rip. 

“There’s no need to put the ridiculous suit on,” Rip said, sipping his whisky, “She’s not going to remember it.” You clenched your jaw as you looked at the ground, “She’s a baby. It can wait until-” 

“It can’t wait!” You yelled and the eyes of your family members looked at you. You sucked in a breath to compose yourself and stood up from the floor, “I’m sorry. It’s just. . . its tradition.” 

“Y/N,” Rip called out to you, trying to grab your hand as you walked away from the living room. He sighed and ran a hand over his beard. 

“She believed in Santa until she was about fourteen,” John said, “Might’ve been partially my fault. I paid Paul Adler to dress up as Santa and come to the house. I guess it was my way of holding on to the things my Evelyn used to do.” John looked at the last family portrait that was sitting on the mantel above the fireplace. It was taken on Christmas eve of 1996. You were in your mothers arm with Lee looking over her shoulder at you. You were the closest with Lee growing up, and his death affected you much harder than anyone else. 

“I never realized how much it meant,” Rip answered, “I just thought it was something silly that she wanted to do for the kids.” 

“Everything that girl does has meaning to it. She just doesn’t do things ‘just because’. You’ll learn that soon enough.” 

Rip nodded and then stood up from the couch, going down the hall after you. Monica smiled at her father-in-law. They hadn’t ever had a close relationship, John saw Monica as the woman who was going to take his son away from him, but they had bonded over the horrible shared grief between them. John looked at Monica, and the woman handed her his granddaughter. 

“C’mere, Evie,” John said, lifting the baby from Monica’s arms, “How about you open this?” He grabbed the small box from the side table and helped the little one open it. It was her very first pair of cowboy boots, “Every girl needs a pair of boots.” He kissed her forehead and helped her put them on her feet. 

You were laying on your childhood bed, staring up at the ceiling where there were once glow in the dark stars that Lee helped you put up. Your father was livid and worried that they would pull the paint off the ceiling, but Lee assured him that it wouldn’t. The next person in this house who loved the Christmas traditions besides you was Lee. He would stay up late with you to wrap presents as you would write in fancy handwriting ‘To who, from Santa.” When you were younger, he would be the one to eat the cookies, and leave “snowy” (which was actually flour) footprints by the fireplace as if good Ol’ Saint Nick had actually come down the chimney to leave gifts. One time, he even brought a horse up from the barn to leave “reindeer” prints in the fresh snow (however, you knew a horse track when you saw one). 

You thought that overtime, the grief of losing your mother and brother would slowly start to subside, but it seemed as if this Christmas, it had come back in full blast. Maybe it was because you were a mother now, and you knew how fragile life could be and change with a snap of a finger.

“Baby?” You heard Rip’s voice before you saw him. You just sighed, and listened as his heavy boots walked over to you, “I’m sorry about the Santa stuff.” 

“My dad tell you I believed in Santa until I was thirteen.” 

“He said fourteen.” 

“He’s a fucking liar. Jamie told me on my thirteenth birthday that I can’t believe Santa was real anymore,” You said and sat up from your bed, “I should be apologizing to you.” 

“For what?” Rip asked, and sat next to you on the bed. 

“I know the holidays aren’t your thing,” You said and grabbed his hand. Your nervous habit was playing with his hands, “And I shouldn’t have pushed you so much into doing it.” 

Rip smiled sadly at you, and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it, “The holidays are my thing because they are your thing. They make you happy, and anything that makes you happy makes me happy. Besides, Evelyn seems to love it.” 

You giggled and shook your head, moving closer to your husband. He wrapped his strong arms around you, “You’re right, Evelyn won’t remember this. She’s spending more time shoving wrapping paper in her mouth than knowing what's going on.” 

“But we will remember,” Rip said and kissed your cheek, “We will remember Evelyn’s first Christmas and that’s what matters.” 

“Thank you,” You said, looking up at him. 

“For what, baby? I nearly ruined this shit.” 

“For giving me the best Christmas present ever,” You smiled up at him. He caressed your face and then placed a kiss on your lips. You hummed into the kiss, and ran your fingers through his brown curls. He moved you in his lap, so you were straddling him, and he laid back against the bed. His hands roamed your body, going down to your hips. Your tongues moved against one another, you being able to taste the whiskey on his tongue. 

A knock on the door startled you both as you lifted your head up to see Beth standing in the doorway, “Oh don’t stop on my account,” She had a smirk on her face and you rolled your eyes, “But there’s someone here to see you.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows and climbed off of Rip and your bed. You walked down towards the living room and stopped in your tracks seeing, 

“Santa?” 

“Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” Santa said, standing in the middle of your living room. You looked at your sister and Rip. 

“I made a call,” Beth smiled, and you threw your arms around her, hugging her tightly, “Oh-” 

“Thank you, Bethy,” You said and then went towards your child who was back in Monica’s arms. Rip looked a bit confused as he watched you place Evelyn in Santa’s arms. He looked around the living room spotting Kayce, John, and Gator all standing around. 

“Who did-” Rip asked Beth but then he heard Santa speak again, “Lloyd?” 

Beth shrugged, “He owed me a favor.” 

Rip shook his head, and then walked towards his family. Beth let out a breath in relief as she watched her family gather around to talk to “Santa”. Evelyn surprisingly didn’t cry when she was set on Santa’s lap, probably because she was too distracted by all the movement around her. 

“Get together you three,” Monica said, grabbing your phone from you, “I’ll take a picture.” 

“Rip, sit on the other side of Santa’s lap,” You said and he gave you a deadpanned look, “It’s for the memories, sweetheart.” 

“Only for you, honey,” Rip gave you a fake smile as he carefully sat on Lloyd’s other knee. 

“Don’t break me bossman,” Lloyd said and Rip also gave him a glare, “It’s for the kid, don’t be a grinch! Smile!” 

“Call me a grinch again and I’ll have you scrapping shit-” 

“Okay, smile!” Monica said, “1. . . 2. . . 3!” 

You, Rip and “Santa” smiled at the camera as Evelyn was still looking up amazed at Santa. You took her from Santa’s lap and looked at the pictures Monica took. 

“They’re perfect!” You cheered, “Thank you so much, Santa.” 

“No problem! Ho, ho, ho!” Santa said and Beth led him out the front door. 

Rip put his arm around your shoulders, “You know what they say about Mistletoe.” 

You looked up above your head to see the green twig hanging above you. You smiled and grabbed Rip’s face, bringing him down to you for a kiss, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Wheeler.” 

“Merry Christmas to you, Mrs. Wheeler.