#ahs langdon

[lanaiskateislana]

🚬

[marchsfreakshow]

The Locket With A Masquerade {Tate Langdon x Reader}

You own a locket, you weren't sure who originally owned it until Tate helped you find who was in the picture.

Fluffy, and a bit short. 💜

First Tate fic, so I apologize in advance if it sounds ooc, but I love this idea.

Your perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

"What are you fiddling with?" Tate asked. He turned around so we were facing each other after cuddling for a bit. Then he gently held my locket. It was a simple oval shape and had a fuzzy picture or drawing in it.

"Not sure." I got it when I was 10, and got it adjusted as I aged, so it never accidentally choked me. He stared at it for a bit, sort of in awe at the actual locket itself. "It is a pretty necklace I'll admit."

"It looks beautiful on you."

"Shut up." I gently pushed him away out of embarrassment, and looked away from him, out the window instead. He just smiled and moved towards me more. The window was foggy and it was difficult to see out of but, it was nice anyway.

"Do you know who is on the locket?" Tate asked, wrapping his fingers around it again. We faced each other again, and at this point, I was practically on top of him, not that either of us minded. But I shook my head and wrapped my arms around his neck, snuggling into him.

"Let's look."

"nah.."

"Why not? It could be fun."

"Sleepy."

"Come on, let's go have a look." I begrudgingly rolled off him, and grabbed my small laptop, opening it up, and letting it turn on. The rain was turning into a storm, so I lightly groaned.

"A storm usually means the wifi is gonna go nuts." Rolling my eyes, I checked the wifi, and it seemed to be okay, so I clicked on Internet Explorer, staring blankly at it. "Where do we start?" I mentioned, turning over to look at Tate, who was in his little world.

"Helloooo? Mr Langdon sir?" He shook his head, reached behind my neck and took the locket off. Then he opened it and studied the picture.

"A woman." Tate started. Very helpful. "From...the 20's? I think?"

"Very helpful Tate. Millions of women lived through the 1920's." Despite my negativity, I searched for a registry and looked for women who lived in California in the 20's. "Is there anything else you can see? I know the picture is very blurry."

"...look up Rudolph Valentino."

"Valentino? Uh, okay." As I looked him up in the registery, I saw no clues. "Why?"

"The Woman in Black! The one who always visited Valentino's grave. Have you never heard of her?"

I shook my head, then laughed at the prospect of constantly visiting someone's grave. "Apparently not." But I decided to search for her anyway.

A few minutes of silent searching went by. "Elizabeth Johnson. Born 1902, death year unmarked." I muttered, running my finger along the information it gave me. "A background actor on the set of The Sheik and worked with Valentino."

"Do you think this is her?"

"There aren't any photos of her to reference." But I shrugged my shoulders and carried on deep-diving the internet for a few minutes as Tate cuddled himself up next to me, resting his cute head of blonde hair on my stomach. As I read an article about Valentino, I kissed Tate's head, so he knew I appreciated him. "Is this her?" I asked soon enough, bringing up a picture of a woman standing next to Valentio and the other actors. Blonde hair, crimped up, the famously thin eyebrows from the '20s, and wonderful, red lips. Her eyes had something. A light we both liked to look at.

Tate then looked at the fuzzy picture, and the face structure was as similar as we could make out. We both switched between the picture in the locket and the photo in the Google search. "I think so." He smiled, closing the locket and putting it back around my neck. "You're so much more beautiful than her."

"She's gorgeous, I couldn't compare to her. I do wonder how she died though. And when."

"...No you're much prettier." Tate grinned, closing the laptop and putting it on the floor right by us.

"Shut up." I chuckled quietly, kissing Tate and bringing him close. Elizabeth looked wonderful, in the picture, and in the locket. I started to wonder about my connection to her if I had one at all. My mum never spoke to me about my family or our history. Or if she just put a random picture of a 1920s actor in the locket to make it seem like I was interesting.

Tate didn't seem to mind at all. He didn't seem to hear any negativity I said about myself at all. But I stared at him while he lay on my chest, sleeping. It felt cheesy to think that he was like Rudolph Valentino, but, not an actor. He slept peacefully, but I decided to place the locket around his neck. It made him, and I thought it fitted him.

"I love you, Tate," I whispered to him.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶

Tag requests: @strangerthings420

[im-nothing-like-normal]

That's it.

I'm sick of how bad the writing is in Season 8. Even years later I am bitter that one of the best characters in that season is reduced to a warlock and all the religious themes are kind of just tossed in their half-hazard because no one knew what they wanted.

It was about witches and warlocks.

It was about robots and sci-fi shenanigans.

It was about a boy born at the end of murder house.

No!

It should have just simply been a story on the antichrist and how everyone is doomed to die. It should have been about the life inside a bunker, about not knowing what is going to happen to you or your family. It should have been about Michael Langdon winning and completing the prophecy without any involvement of witches.

Don't get me wrong, I love Coven, but it should not have been involved with Michael's story.

Let's talk about the lure of the antichrist, how he's charming, how he's supposed to become a minister and turn the world to him, how he punishes those who oppose him, how easily one's faith can be squandered when someone claims they are a prophet and proves it.

So thus, despite it being years later, I am going to rewrite that season. I'm talking about dark religious contexts with the horrors of the end times. I'm keeping the setting and the premise, but there will be no drawn-out backstory about magic.

I will be posting it soon. Keep a lookout for it~

[ahscovxnn]

I'M ACTUALLY OBSESSED WITH THIS LOOK OMG😍😘🤭

[loversdelusions]

| AHS | Tate Langdon |

🫀 Little Houses 🫀

A/n: Yay, first AHS scenario, and I think it's pretty cute, I hope it's good. I want to receive asks about AHS if you guys have any, but for now:

✩ Fluff

✩ Prompt: Playing Monopoly.

Watching Tate play monopoly was absolutely adorable, but playing with him was an absolute nightmare. Neither of you play fair, throwing the die before the figurine even lands on the property you want, then yelling that you did it before either of you could claim it and that was not against the rules no it wasn't you just like playing however you wan--

Anyways... He is a nightmare. He's cocky, he laughs like a fucking Disney villain when he gets the property you wanted and stares at you with terrifying amusement when you land on his goddamn houses. The little houses, which he hordes like a crazy person. It's straight out a catfight by the end. He is unironically legendary at the game. No one has gotten the better of him.

So while you grumble and sit to the side, deciding for the 50th time that you would not play with him ever again, you glanced at your boyfriend, a silly little grin plastered across his face like a doofus. Rubbing his shoulder— One that you'd been hitting for the past ten minutes in frustration while he laughed and fought to hold your wrists, while his eyes lowered with his lashes almost touching his pretty cheeks. His eyes squinting in delight as he chuckled, "Tate. Stop that."

"What?" His eyes turning to you while his grin only grew. You rolled your eyes while he fanned himself with his money.

"I am going to kill you."

"You're just mad you're in jail again," He rolled, scoring a twelve once again like the absolute cheater he was.

"You're never, ever going to be the bank again," You quickly grabbed the die, getting ready to roll. You pointed at him, "I know you cheat."

"You're just jealous. Also I am the bank because you can't do simple addition." He whistled as he landed, and you whined, watching him look you straight into your eyes with his own abnormally dark ones and the silly grin turned into a cocky smartass smirk, "...Hand me the little house."

"TATE- NO I SWEAR TO THE GOD OF THE LITTLE HOUSES--"

"I am the god of the little houses now."

Never playing monopoly with him again.

[anggelic]

the first episode of ‘american horror story: coven’ aired 9 years ago today

[evanpetersgoddess]

I don’t feel sad, i don’t feel anything 🥀

[mrsevanpeters]

😂😂😂Me?😂😂😂In love with a fictional Antichrist?😂😂LMAO😂😂absolutely😂😂😂