#Louis you don’t understand what you have

[immortalmolloy]

Daniel’s soul yearned for Armand. His heart ached for him. And it disgusted Daniel. It made him hate himself. Mina was being so kind to him. She was so patient and understanding. Lestat and Louis were always understanding too. Daniel reminded himself why being with Armand was a bad idea. He reminded himself how dangerous Armand was. He reminded himself how Armand manipulated and lied. He reminded himself how Armand had once nearly sat and watched Louis die all while pretending he was helpless to stop it, because Louis didn’t love him the way he’d wanted. What was to say that Armand wouldn’t ever decide to hurt him too? It was all so fucking ironic. Mina had saved him from Louis just for him to become a vampire and fall for Louis and his maker. Daniel had gone and blown up Armand and Louis’ relationship, exposing Armand’s lies, just to bond with Armand and fall into Armand’s bed himself. It was so fucked I’m. He was so fucked up. They all were. He tried to focus on Mina, tried to stay out of his own dark thoughts. He gave the slightest smile as he remembered times with Mina when it was just them against the monsters in the world. In some ways things had been a lot more simple. Back then when he’d first floated in the air he’d been holding onto a naive hope that he’d one day destroy Armand and sever their bond. Now he knew better. He knew that if he destroyed Armand he would only destroy himself too. He was grateful for Mina and how she had saved him more than once. He was grateful for all that time they spent bonding as friends before becoming lovers. He had learned a lot and grown. He remembered Jake and the werewolves who he still held close in his heart. The truth was, he was happier now than he had been back then. He had come into himself more fully. He was continuing to work through trauma in therapy and constantly improving himself. He was so loved and he liked his life with Mina and the vampires. He was right where he was meant to be. There was no doubt about that. “You don’t ever regret it?” He asked Mina. “Regret that you settled down with me and our vampires instead of continuing to hunt?” Mina would have eventually been killed one day hunting monsters. Still, did she feel bored and regretful about the way things had turned out?

“So, you want to interview vampires, so you?”

[loumandism]

so much of what iwtv is trying to say about the cycle of abuse is perfectly encapsulated in amadeo and marius’ relationship as the catalyst for the events of the story. ownership as reinforced by white supremacy & incestuous power dynamics as it develops into codependent “love” reverberates throughout every relationship armand and marius have a hand in crafting afterwards.

marius (a white supremacist) abuses amadeo (a colonial subject) —> marius “dies” and amadeo becomes armand, armand finds lestat and projects marius onto him and tries to claim ownership over him in the way that he understands love —> lestat runs away from him and finds marius who directs him on how to create a “proper family” leading to his abuse and white supremacist isolation of louis —> louis runs away and finds armand but marius and lestat (who was given his understanding of companionship by marius) have distorted their understanding of intimacy so badly they don’t understand how to proceed and both mimic the behavior of their makers (with armand eventually taking over the controlling position which was inevitable when you consider loumand as maristat which in and of itself had an obvious power dynamic) —> (in the books) armand leaves louis and finds daniel and has been fully actualized as a marius-type figure —> marius returns and can assert he is the “true” marius and that armand has been awkwardly pretending at his role. he becomes the puppeteer of armand lestat and daniel (including entering a companionship with daniel where daniel is completely brain broken because of what armand did to him, creating the perfect abusive relationship vacuum for marius) because their entire centuries long push and pull dynamic was written out 500 years ago. the brutality inflicted onto amadeo by marius has a ripple effect on the entire narrative. I joke that “everyone is amadeo forever” but there seems to be a deliberate construction of “amadeo” and “marius” as *concepts* explored through the power dynamics in every relationship, and the ones in which there’s two marius’ or two amadeos (aka a power struggle that is not easily decided) struggle to maintain themselves without the subjugation all of these characters understand as intrinsic to love. food for thought!!

[merrybloomwrites]

When the Wolves Come Out (Chapter 1)

Story Summary: When Y/N gets hired to play drums for One Direction, the last thing she expects is to find herself as part of their pack. Especially since it seems that they don’t want her there. Only time will tell if they’ll accept her, or if the omega will have to deal with rejection from the others.

Chapter Summary: The boys find out about their new band member.

Word Count: 1.8K

Tags/CW: omega verse, omega reader, alpha Harry, alpha Zayn, alpha Louis, beta Niall, beta Liam, poly

AN: So excited to finally start sharing this! I’ve had this planned for easily a year now, and it’s taking me some time to write because I really want to get it right. Since I don’t have a schedule for this I’m going to do a tag list so that people will be notified when a new chapter goes up. If you’d like to be on that please comment or send me a message.

I hope you enjoy!

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“So, what do we think this meeting is about?” Niall asks anxiously.

He, Harry, Louis, Zayn, and Liam are together at their home in London eating breakfast and discussing the day ahead. A last minute meeting had been put on the schedule for later that morning. It has them all a bit on edge, since technically they’re on break for another week before tour rehearsal starts.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Zayn reassures. As the alphas of the band, Zayn, Louis, and Harry are always making sure to look after the betas, Niall and Liam. It’s in their nature to protect others, especially omegas, but with no omegas around, those feelings are transferred to the betas.

“They might just be going over the schedule for the upcoming weeks,” Louis says.

“I know they’ve hired a few new people for the team,” Harry adds. “This could be to introduce everyone so we’re all comfortable before we really get into planning for the tour.”

“Makes sense,” Liam replies, seemingly unworried, but Zayn places a gentle hand on his shoulder anyway. Liam is used to this, the casual affection from the others, as he understands their need to care for those around them. It did feel a little overbearing to him and Niall at first, but now over three years in, they’ve grown to love the attention.

“Everyone be ready by ten,” Louis says as he gets up to bring his plate to the sink. They all finish breakfast and go their separate ways to get dressed. The alphas take an extra minute to properly put on their scent blockers, knowing that they’re not supposed to broadcast their scents whenever they have meetings.

It’s one of those things they didn’t question at first, but now find a bit annoying, and honestly somewhat of a hypocritical rule. Simon, and the other alphas on their team don’t have to hide their scents, but the band members do. Louis tries not to think so cynically, but he can’t help but feel like this rule is there to keep them in place, ensuring that he, Zayn, and Harry can’t be seen on the same level as the other alphas.

Pushing these thoughts aside, Louis heads down to the entrance, putting on his shoes as he waits for the others. He receives a text that their car will be arriving soon, and shouts a five minute warning through the house.

As the eldest in the group, Louis had become the official leader. It hadn’t started that way, though. Liam had the most leadership qualities and naturally filled the role. But due to his status, others outside the band wouldn’t listen to him. He always says it doesn’t bother him, and that he was relieved to not be in charge, but his friends were still a bit angry on his behalf.

“That’s just how society is,” Liam had said.

“It shouldn’t be that way,” Harry had replied.

“But it is. Maybe it will change someday, but for now, I’m okay with it,” Liam had stated, ending the conversation.

From then, Louis had been the point person. If they were an official pack, he’d be their pack alpha. But they weren’t one. They weren’t allowed to be one. They couldn’t be a true pack, not without a female, and especially, not without an omega. They would always be seen as incomplete.

And therefore, management had forbidden them from bonding. It had been a huge debate the previous year, when the five boys had realized that they were already bonded for life, and wanted to make it official. It was then that they were told if they tried, they would be dropped from their management team and from their label. They would never be able to make music again.

So they’ve put off the topic of becoming an official pack. For now.

The five of them pile into the van when it arrives, and it’s a short trip.

“Head up to Simon’s office,” the receptionist says. “He’s waiting for you.”

And that’s a surprise to all of them. Rarely do they actually meet with Simon. The few meetings they do have with him often end in lectures or new rules. It’s not normally good news.

The five of them get in the elevator, and Harry can feel the anxiety radiating off of Niall. He places a calming hand to the back of his neck, a gesture of protection, and Zayn does the same for Liam.

Arriving at the office door, Louis knocks, standing tall and doing his best to channel his authority as pack alpha.

“Come in,” they hear Simon call out, and they do as they’re told.

“Have a seat,” Simon directs without so much as a hello.

Simon is behind his desk, five chairs set up facing him, as though they’re a group of students in the principal's office. Still, they listen, Harry and Zayn taking the outside seats, Louis in the middle, and the betas sandwiched between the alphas.

“Thank you for coming this morning,” Simon says, as though the boys had any choice. “I know you’re still on break, but I have some news to share with you.”

All five of them are on edge waiting to hear what this could be, their minds making up dozens of scenarios in an instant.

“As you know, Danny will no longer be touring with us. So we’ve found a new drummer.”

And that’s, well, anticlimactic. For a Simon meeting that’s barely news. They knew they were getting a couple new band members, at least one person changes every time they tour, but it’s never been taken so seriously.

Louis senses the others relax around him but he stays on alert, figuring there has to be a catch.

“Who is he?” Louis asks.

“She,” Simon states. “Thought you had an open mind,” he adds.

“I do,” Louis retorts. “You’re the one who has always insisted the band is all boys.”

“Well maybe I’ve decided it’s time to branch out. Her name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Wait, isn’t she the drummer for the Jonas Brothers?” Harry asks.

“She was. But they broke up, or are on a break, I don’t really know. All I know is we needed a drummer and she needed a job. Apparently she grew up with them and has been playing drums since she was a child. She’s skilled, talented. Plus she’s toured with a major boy band before so she knows what she’s getting into.”

“And she’s an omega.” Harry states.

This really catches the attention of the other four. The fact that this new hire is a girl was shocking enough, but also an omega? There has never been an omega in the band, not even part of the touring crew. Management had never allowed it, said that it was no lifestyle for them, that the constant stress of traveling would be too draining. Plus, omegas can’t be away from their mate or their pack for long, or it would lead to touch deprivation, causing them to be physically sick.

“She’s used to this lifestyle, I have no worries that she won’t be able to handle it,” Simon replies.

“Will her alpha be traveling with her then?” Louis asks.

“She doesn’t have one. She was a part of the Jonas pack but that’s, well, saying it’s in shambles seems a bit mean. Doesn’t mean it isn’t true though. So she’s very much a free agent at this time.”

“I know you said she’s used to touring,” Niall says, “but she’s used to touring with her pack. Pretty sure both Kevin and Joe are alphas, and if she grew up with them then they could provide her the touch and comfort she needs. She won’t have that here.”

“Why won’t she?” Simon asks.

Silence falls in the room as they all try to figure out what he means.

“Wait. Us?” Zayn finally asks, causing the rest to look at him in confusion.

It clicks for Louis and he says, “No way! This is our pack. The five of us. We’re not adding some random omega girl to our pack just because you want us to.”

“She’s a good fit for the band, and she’ll need you boys-”

“Don’t pretend you’re doing this for her,” Zayn says.

“This is just a convenient way for you to sneak her into our pack and get the public image you’ve always wanted for us,” Harry adds.

“You are not a pack!” Simon shouts. “The five of you will never be a pack.”

“Because you won’t allow it,” Louis says.

“Because society won’t allow it! This isn’t my rule and you know it. This is the way it is. No pack is considered complete in the eyes of the law without at least one omega.”

The boys are silent once again, knowing it’s true but not wanting to admit it.

“She will be here next week. You will be welcoming. Kind. We’re done here. Louis, please keep an eye on your email for your rehearsal schedule.”

Knowing they’ve clearly been dismissed, the five of them head back to the car. They’re tense on the drive home, no one sure what to say, each processing the news.

They spend the afternoon separately, everyone off doing their own thing. It isn’t until they sit down together for dinner that they bring up the meeting.

“How is everyone feeling?” Louis asks.

“Annoyed,” Zayn states.

“Elaborate?”

“I’m annoyed that he’s trying to make this decision for us. I don’t mind her being in the band but he can’t make changes to our pack.”

“I agree with Z,” Liam says. “It’s our pack, not his. He has no right telling us what to do.”

“And who is this chick anyway?” Niall asks.

“An incredibly talented drummer,” Harry replies.

“Doesn’t mean she can just come and force her way into our pack,” Niall says.

“We don't know that that's her intention,” Louis says.

“We don’t know that it isn’t,” Zayn argues.

“Nothings going to change, right?” Niall asks meekly.

The alphas look between Niall and Liam, and notice that both of them seem nervous. They understand their worries, that if an omega joins their pack then the alphas attention will turn to her.

“Nothing will change,” Harry says.

“No matter what, you will always have us,” Louis confirms.

Seeming reassured, Niall and Liam relax, though that doesn’t stop the alphas from releasing calming pheromones.

“We’ve still got another week before she gets here. Let’s just enjoy that and then we’ll take it from there,” Zayn says.

Everyone agrees, and they finish the rest of dinner in peace.

That night they all end up in Louis bed together, cuddling and basking in each other's presence. And if they do that everyday for the rest of the week, well, no one has to know.

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AN: Thank you for reading! Please comment or message me if you want to be on the tag list! I’m looking forward to sharing this story with you all!

[a-realproblem]

last thing I have to say before i call it a good night

disheveled, manipulative, pissed off armand is my favorite type of armand because why did he look so damn good

boring where?! dull where?!

young daniel I get it because I would of been on my knees ready to-

[havepatienceandendure]

The parallel of donna calling a man she has been fucking for weeks ‘good boy’ when he does something she wants at work to harvey in literally episode two calling mike a ‘good boy’ when he does something harvey wants at work. Writers of suits explain yourselves

[dxxtruction]

So this feels sort of obvious to me but Armand doesn’t wish to use or want any power he wants control. Specifically he wants to be in control of his sense of security, safety, stability, and attachments, his survival and identity. He controls what others are doing really only insofar as they threaten the control of any of that, cause he doesn’t really want power over them. (Except maybe Claudia, but I’d argue that is still a control thing). He will willingly forgo using or being in power for control. He manipulates and lies not for power but control. He makes grand displays of his vampire powers or strength not on the central intent of having power over people but for control. He doesn’t back down from Madeleine’s turning to have power over Louis he does it to remain in control over himself. He submits to giving up power for Louis’ power because it feels like it’s all in his control, and disobeys Louis when it’s not. He doesn’t take back power over the coven because he has more control if he does not fight it. His choice is a matter of weighing up how much control he has between the two. If the reasoned way to have control is to use power he will use it. If he doesn’t have to use power to have control, or there’s simply more control in not, he is not going to use it. Of course you will note he is simply very powerful, he has the position and means for it, and his ability to have and get so much control is a power in itself, that power is baked into having control. But he is not like Santiago, who is power hungry and wants and uses any power he can get his hands on. Or Marius who is full of himself on his power and has a sense of entitlement about it. Or even Louis who seeks and uses dominance and capital as power for a means of getting and having control. Armand is going primarily always for control as a means in itself for control, and the demand of it is a very high bar which tends to look like he wants or relishes in using power. But from all I can tell he quite hates it really, submission to power is a place of control for him, but he will use and get power if it’s the most in control means to control he has.

(This is at least as insofar as we’ve seen of him in the show. You could say Armand will have a sort of love with power but then some kind of disillusionment with it in s3, going off what I recall of tvl, that puts him back into this state of needing control being above power which would’ve also been his way of operating with Santino and Marius.)

(Added note: I should say I do believe Armand is almost always aware of his position to his power at all times, it’s not lost on him he is very powerful and can use said power if he so wanted, but it’s a question of his control if he does. He understands power and how to use it or he wouldn’t have such great ability to have and manipulate all this control. Of course he’s not perfect in this either, and I do think a strong sense of powerlessness, and total loss of control can override all his sensibility about power. Anyhow, Armand understands power extremely intimately, from all sides of it, and yet places attention not there but in having control, for the things I described above. Survival for him ranking above concerns like that.)

[twopoppies]

.

[drolta]

I hope Claudia escapes the afterlife and eats some of you fr

[sockgate]

.

[persephoneflouwers]

-

[toscrollperchancetomeme]

One thing about „Long Face” I haven’t seen discussed yet is its “perfectly premeditated flaw”. While it’s obviously primarily meant to bait Louis, it does so in a very smart way.

The writers have gone out of their way to make us understand that Louis has built himself up to be this super posh art dealer. He’s a connoisseur, he has “ze eye”, he is extremely distinguished in his tastes. Or, as Lestat probably sees it: He’s super pretentious, “like every pompous art student” he’s ever eaten. (I think he gets it from his mum, but that would be a whole essay.) And a part of this is: He does not like camp. This is quite evident from the way he talks about “Lestat’s tastelessness on the float” in episode 1x7, but also reflects in his reaction to the “weirdness” of the Paris theatre.

Except - I think he secretly does like it, because otherwise he would not love Lestat. Him being in denial of his love for Lestat and of his enjoyment of “camp” art almost seem to stem from the same place within him - he is still denying parts of himself.

So, Lestat writing a song for him, that is this camp? That literally says “Come appraise me” to his art dealer husband? That says “see me for what I am and stop lying to yourself and pretending that you don’t love me and that you don’t enjoy having fuuuuuuun”? The lack of metaphor has never been more striking. I’m so here for this.

[targaryenluvs]

— BEST LIFE

pairings: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (past), harvey specter x fem!juniorpartner!reader (present)

summary: you’d once been apart of the bau team, but after a situation and a falling out with your boyfriend you moved on. what happens when the bau needs your help on a case, which your boyfriend harvey is also assisting on?

warnings: angsty, asshole harvey cause duh, jealousy (spencer) kisses, cute harvey

wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: this literally sprouted in my mind and i just needed to write it lmao, if you haven’t watched suits or criminal minds go right now‼️ they’re both my husbands 😋

when jessica had called you into her office, you’d been calm. apparently one of your cases, which had you and harvey working together, was now of fbi interest. your client was currently suing a company for faulty wiring in his home, which caused it to burn down. and it was apparently not the case at all, the home was suspected to be tied into a serial arsonist.

what you didn’t expect was for your client to be accused of being the arsonist.

“you’re sitting here,”

“uh-huh.”

“telling me,”

“yup.”

“that i’m supposed to believe that richard jeena, the fifty three year old little man, is a serial arsonist?”

you shut the file infront of you, meeting harvey’s eye, “sweetheart?” he uncrossed his legs, leaning forwards with a sweet smile, “yes?” you leaned forwards as well, “that, is exactly what i’m telling you.” harvey leaned back into his chair, disbelief riddling his face.

“and the fbi is flying here?” you nodded along, “fbi agents?” you nodded again, “probably field agents or whatever they’re called. they’ll sit in on the trial, survey the scenes, collect evidence and all.” the familiar clicking of donna’s heels brought a smile to your face, “profilers.”

your heart dropped with one word, “what’d you say?” donna made her way to the two of you, plopping herself down in the chair next to you, “it’s those fbi profilers. yknow, they look at the room and can tell you if he’s left or right handed, blonde, mommy issues and all. nice little packaged criminal profile in seconds.” you couldn’t help correcting her, having dealt with your fair share of assumptions in your years as a profiler.

“that’s not how it works,” harvey swiveled in his chair as donna looked your way, “oh?” harvey smirked as you sighed, “that’s not how it works, we don’t just walk into a room and have it speak to us. we survey the place, fresh eyes and open minds. we look for the things that everyone else seems to miss. we put ourselves in the minds of the criminals themselves, to get a better understanding of them, why they did it and all. you work your way back, start from the victim maybe, see where they’ve been, what they did in the last week, who they talk to. sometimes the killers in their personal circle but not always. every case is different, we try our best to provide an accurate, unbiased profile.”

“i want to take you on my desk, right now.” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriends words as donna stared intently, “we. you said ‘we’, as if you know what they do and their job. oh my god, you use to be one. that’s the job you had before coming here! you have a degree in criminal justice, and you said your last job you were at for what, seven years?”

“i graduated high school early, entered harvard at a young age, graduated, entered the fbi at the same time as a— friend. was also studying law, sat the exam in new york since it’s where i wanted to be. finished up at harvard, i was mid to late twenties when i left, wound up here and am now a junior partner, capiche?”

“could just say your age.” mike stood by the door with a wad of files in his hand, “i’d rather die, mike.” harvey laughed, “please don’t incentivise my lovely girlfriend to killing herself mike.”

“as nice as it is to see you all bonding, and trust me, it hits me right in the heart, jessica wants yourself and y/n in the conference room.” louis spoke from the door as you stood up, “first of all, trust with you is fickle, second, tell it to hit you in the face next time lou.” you smacked harvey’s arm as he held his arms up, “friendly fire, i’ll put it out later.” you shoved him by his back before smiling at louis, “i’m sorry about him, he’s not a big fan of the fbi.” louis nodded as he followed you, “duly noted.”

“she’s right, damn pigs.” harvey joked as you approached the conference room, “your highness,” you grinned, “you never treat me so nicely when we’re at home harvey.” he held his hand over his heart, “now don’t lie sweetheart, i’m as nice as mike.” the snort that left your lips had harvey doubling over, “oh please, nice as mike? you wish.”

your giggles were drained from your throat as you stared at half of your old team.

derek morgan, emily prentiss, penelope garcia & spencer reid. the last name, and face you’d still not looked at yet. thankfully, harvey noticed your tenseness, “y/n? sweetheart, you alright?” there it was, that word, sweetheart. spencer couldn’t help but wonder, was it just a word? you always use to call him it, before you dated, teasing of course.

“yeah, i’m fine harv.” he nodded, even if he didn’t believe you he could always ask later on. pulling out his and yours chairs, you sat next to one another. “harvey specter & y/n l/n?” emily questioned as you nodded, “the one and only. and then there’s y/n.” harvey leaned back in his chair, whilst derek stared him down.

what an ass. is what he wanted to say, it was also what he assumed emily was thinking. “emily.” she glanced over at you, surprised at you using her name, “it’s nice to see you all. how’ve you been?” and the bewildered expression was wiped clean off your face, no remnant left. you were a damn lawyer, if there was one thing you’d learned, it was to keep a straight face.

penelope smiled, “we’ve been good, y/n. but we miss you, back home. you’re a lawyer now huh?” you grinned, “the one and only.” harvey squeezed your hand, you squeezed back. “youngest junior partner, ever. my dream. just hoping to make it to senior partner soon, take the title of youngest out from under this guy. i’m happy here, i hope you are too. but down to business.”

and for the next few hours, you’d sat and listened. overlooking the case files, giving statements, reviewing security footage from surrounding houses. at some point mike ended up in the room, having met with your client and being harvey’s associate.

you’d had the pleasure of introducing spencer and mike, the two undeniably similar. you felt comfortable, even betting with penelope that if they touched the world would implode.

“and how much would he loose?”

“127,478.23.” mike and spencer rushed out as the rest of you fought to suppress your smiles, “well y/n, seems like we’ve got a genius-off.” derek laughed as the two men looked towards you, “don’t worry i’ll still love you mike.” mike scoffed at your words, “what makes you think i’d loose?”

“because i know you, and i know reid. trust me, you’d loose.”

reid. not spencer, spence, sweetheart. none of the above, you’d used his last name. as if he was nothing more than a colleague.

“okay, we’ve been here for far too long. and as much as i’d like to sit here and slowly rot, i’d rather do that at the restaurant i have booked for dinner with two lovely ladies. y/n and i have a trial date tomorrow, 8.00am. i think, we bring him along, show him what’s to happen if he doesn’t confess, than toast victory champagne when said confession rolls through. how’s that sound?” if derek’s grin was any indicator, besides a big fat yes?

spencer wanted to puke, ‘lovely ladies?’ multiple women? this man was insufferable. you gathered yourself and harvey’s files, a hand gestured towards you, the last file in said hand. “thanks reid.” he smiled, “no problem-o.” your eyebrows furrowed, “never change do you?” spencer didn’t have time to respond, his brain was too busy blowing a fuse as harvey opened the door for you. “ready for dinner lovely lady?” they all heard harvey ask as you nodded, the four watched as you walked out, his hand on your back as he pecked you on the lips.

“reid, you alright?” derek’s hand rested on his shoulder, “i’m fine, why wouldn’t i be fine? don’t we have places to be? hotch would want to know their on our side, that they reviewed all the information. they’ll help us get a confession out of him.” derek sighed, “because you just saw your ex, who you haven’t seen in years. the one you never got over, happily living in new york as comfortable as possible. a successful business woman and lawyer, happily in a relationship.”

spencer shook his head, “you don’t know that.” emily directed a sympathetic smile his way, “we sat with them for three hours. we watched them laugh, bounce off of eachother for theories, quite literally finish eachothers sentences. order food for eachother without asking, and get their meals right. they held hands when they could, he continued to call her sweetheart. and now they’re going out to dinner.”

spencer’s shoulder dropped, they were right. he’d come here excited at the possibility of seeing you again, talking to you. maybe even beginning again with you. instead, you’re apparently with some suited up asshole. he was annoyingly sweet when it came to you though.

as if the whole three hours weren’t a slap in the face, harvey’s voice rung out through the hallway, “there’s my lovely lady!” rachel, who they’d all met earlier on, was currently guiding a young girl to harvey’s arms. “daddy!” if hearts were boats, than his was sinking. he may have had a chance beforehand, but now?

“is mommy here?” your daughter was currently situated on harvey’s hip, “why don’t you hug her and find out?” your arms were out in the open as your daughter squealed before running to you, “d’you have a fun day with rach?” she nodded her head rapidly as yourself and harvey smiled, he stood behind you, chest to back. his hand rested on your waist as the other moved aside hair from her face, before moving hair from your own.

“now, my lovely ladies, it’s time for dinner.”

lovely ladies, for once, spencer had made a mistake. harvey was going out with multiple women, but not in the way he thought. his daughter and the mother of his child, you.

his words and actions meant nothing, they would mean nothing. you were happy, so happy. you had everything you wanted, a loving marriage and man, a gorgeous family. something spencer hadn’t given you. a man who knew you could hold your own. spencer knew that too, but he couldn’t help himself back then.

right now, you were living your best life.

[loumandism]

“Armand is very, very skilled at preserving his existence. So that doesn’t mean that he’s always happy…but I think he will do anything to survive…He pretends to give this facade of not being the child, but he is. He is the child.” - Assad Zaman, Mysza Interview

“And I think that’s more powerful than saying one vampires is bad and one vampire is good, or Armand was controlling the whole thing. If Armand is the big arc villain of the show, it takes away the agency. Louis’s gotta have agency. Lestat’s gotta have agency. And Armand. And they’ve gotta have control and be responsible for their own actions.” - Sam Reid, Autumn Brown Interview Outtakes

“A number of my writers have a [very rich] point of view about Armand that may not be totally satisfying by the end of this season, but actually allows for so much more stuff to come up after this…Just wait. Everyone will get their turn. You will be able to understand from their point of view why they do what they do. We don’t have a lot of room for mustachey-twirly villains on our show.” - Rolin Jones, Rotten Tomatoes

“We landed on the idea that [Armand] had two cowardly moments in his life. And that any lies after that were all to cover up those two, but that there were actually really, really sincere efforts to try and make up for it, to be better than that, and that he had.” - Rolin Jones, The Wrap

“He directed it, but it wasn’t his choice to do it. The fucking nugget of complexity is that he’s not a mustache-twirling evil guy all along. He has just thrown himself, well, been thrown into a situation and has done despicable things to survive, granted despicable things and a despicable lie to hold for so many years.” Assad Zaman, TV Insider

“We go back to something we’ve hit over and over again: is the sum of your character your worst moments? And, yeah, sure, someone could go ahead and say ‘fuck you, Armand, for the rest of your life because of that’…[But] we have seven, eight years hopefully, on this show, if we’re lucky, for contrition and forgiveness everywhere.” - Rolin Jones, The Wrap

[f0point5]

i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body

Me too! GOD. Me, too.

It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!

✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush

Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.

You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.

This guy must be really fucking interesting.

You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.

It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.

It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.

“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”

GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”

Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”

Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.

“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.

“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”

Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.

“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.

“Max,” GP sighs.

“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”

GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”

“I’m not jealous.”

And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.

Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”

You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.

“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.

GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”

You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.

“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.

Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.

“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.

The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.

“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”

“My what?”

“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.

He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.

Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.

He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?

He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.

“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.

He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.

“Right, so,”

[ssa-dado]

Breaking down Hotch's apartment layout until someone from Criminal Minds slides into my DMs with the damn floorplans

- CASE BRIEFING: HOW HOTCH'S APARTMENT GASLIT US ALL

As an architecture student, I have a very strong (borderline obsessive) interest in analyzing spaces and locations... especially when they don’t quite add up. And one that has always messed with my brain (sometimes in a good way, but mostly in a frustrating way) is Hotch’s apartment from seasons 4–11.

The transformation from the bare, depressing space in s5 to the warm, cozy atmosphere with antique furniture and clever spatial tricks later on… it’s fascinating.

But also confusing as hell.

Because one question has always haunted me:

Is the apartment we see in Season 4/5 (where Hotch was stabbed and possibly SA’d) the same one he’s living in by Season 10?

(And since I’m a visual learner, here are the pics, because this mystery needs solving... I'll try my best)

(05x01 ; 10x05 don't zoom in, you freaks)

Seems easy to solve, right? The civil number is the same! Great.

121

...But hold on - what’s this?

(07x23)

...Damn, Aaron, your mailman must be going through it - 121? 123? Pick a struggle.

So… is it the same apartment or not? Because at this point, I’m losing my mind.

- VICTIMOLOGY (TYPOLOGY)

As you all know, the starting point is always victimology—but in architecture, my go-to is typology.

So, what kind of apartment building does Hotch live in?

Because once we figure that out, we can finally make sense of all the architectural crimes committed in his apartment.

We get a glimpse of his building in 5x02, and - without dragging you through a full historical deep dive (unless you want me to, in which case, buckle up) - here’s what we do know: it looks like this...

The building looks pre-WWII, likely built in the late 1920s–1930s, or designed more recently to mimic that era.

My guess is primarily based on the architectural detailing of the ground floor - the stonework, arches, and classical elements that give it a grander, more “expensive” look - and the distinct visual separation from the upper levels.

Spencer Reid moment - you can skip it if you'd like -> This actually follows a common design principle (partly influenced by Louis Sullivan’s theories) where different sections of a building reflect their function. The ground floor, being more public-facing, is more decorative and inviting, while the upper floors (where the apartments are) are plainer, emphasizing privacy.

However, the upper levels look stripped down, almost too plain, like they went through a more recent renovation that removed some of the og character. While it was normal in the 1920s/30s to emphasize the lower level, the upper floors would still have had some kind of textured finish brick, terracotta, or even decorative stone accents. Instead, here, it looks like someone just painted over everything... a bit sad, honestly… much like the man living in one of these apartments. Sorry Hotch but it is the truth.

That said, based on the photos, I hypothesized a possible volumetry diagram and main floor plan of the apartment building, including its functions and layout.

Knowing that Hotch lives in 121 (or 123… whatever it is today), he could very well be on the first floor. Old man isn’t about to risk climbing seven flights of stairs, understandable.

(Or, if we lean into the conspiracy theory that he has childhood trauma related to fire, it’s very telling that he chose a first-floor unit, making for an easier escape in case of danger…)

Our lovely Emily Prentiss gave us a sneak peek at the ground floor interior in 5x01, which - combined with a study of the window placement on the facade - helped me piece together a small section of the central layout.

From what we see, I feel even more confident about the building’s era - especially because of the beautiful wooden decorated elevators (yes, those are elevators, not doors... check the buttons on the side)

And now, for another Spencer Reid moment, part two -> In the early 1900s, when elevators were first being introduced in residential buildings, they didn’t look like the modern ones we see today.

Why?

Because men fear change.

Just like with any new technology, people were hesitant, so architects and designers made elevators blend in by disguising them as something more familiar - often looking like grand wooden doors or classic entryways rather than the industrial metal boxes we think of today.

This same pattern happened with building structures - steel (and concrete too!) was widely adopted in the early 1900s because of its strength, allowing for taller buildings, but architects still hid the steel frame behind stone or brick facades to maintain the look of traditional palaces. Even early cars looked like carriages because people weren’t ready to embrace a completely new form.

So, Hotch’s apartment building? It’s yet another classic case of early 20th-century architectural reluctance to embrace modernity - which, honestly, fits him a little too well. The man bottles up his emotions behind the calmest face just like his home hides its innovations behind classic detailing.

I see you, Aaron. You’re not fooling me.

Now, you may be asking - "Phi, weren’t you supposed to expose all the inconsistencies in Hotch’s apartment and finally solve whether it’s the same place or if they changed it?"

To that, I say… we’re getting there.

Because before we dive into the madness, there’s something that really messes with my brain - the window placement in Hotch’s apartment.

But to even begin analyzing that, we first need to understand how a typical floor plan in a building like this would be structured. And once again, our queen Emily Prentiss in 5x01 unknowingly led us straight to the answer.

The bastard even has a vaulted ceiling - right where I believe the main distribution area (aka elevators and stairs) is located. You can spot it in the pictures near the exit signs.

Also, just a heads-up... in the diagrams, the apartments look smaller than they actually are because I was too lazy to make multiple detailed drawings. (But hey, if someone paid me - hi, CM - I absolutely would) So, for now, I’m using that as a quick reference.

Now… the interior! Or should I say… the everchanging interior.

In this issue, I’ll be analyzing the Season 5 version - I even sketched out a small section of the floor plan (which could be completely wrong, because things change every episode).

From these pics, we can see that his windows are on the opposite side of the entrance - which, so far, checks out.

But wait... look down here! Check out the window placement in the kitchen. Thanks to that little detail, we can hypothesize that Hotch’s apartment is located in what I’ve labeled as "Unit B" - aka the unit with double exposure (great for ventilation, Aaron, solid choice).

From this pic down here from the s4 finale, we also get a fun little bonus detail - there’s what looks like a tiny dryer (or washing machine?) just sitting out in plain sight. And right behind Hotch, there’s a door that, based on the dimensions, I suspect leads to a bathroom.

Enough details to sketch out a partial floor plan… and there you have it!

A (partial) floor plan of Hotch’s apartment in its saddest era: bare, empty, and drowning in case files from seasons 4–5

And seeing more of his apartment in later seasons should be a blessing, right? It should help us map out the whole thing, right?...

Right?

...Wait.

Is that... a full-ass door on the right that totally wasn’t there before?!

Aaron, you hypocrite - you shut down Spencer Reid’s physics magic, yet here you are summoning entire new rooms into existence in your apartment.

(05x02 ; 10x05)

Alright, fine... where does that door lead?

(10x20)

Hot damn.

Referring to the home office, of course… and here’s some solid proof of its placement. Now, I’m gonna… step away for a minute… process... this... architectural betrayal… but YOU - you make sure to study these pics. I’ll be quizzing you later, got it?

Alright… and now… now that you’ve hopefully been studying (and totally not getting distracted by Hotch’s shirt hanging on for dear life - OMG LOOK AT THE [REDACTED])… focus.

You nasty.

Window placement.

Where’s the home office window? Exactly... on the same side as the others in the living and dining area (you can tell by the way the light enters the room in the pic on the right)

And since you’re all very interested in the architecture (and definitely not drooling over a certain Unit Chief), let me ask you this:

WHY THE HELL IS THERE A WHOLE FIREPLACE IN HIS HOME OFFICE?!

Don’t worry - I’ll answer for you. Since y’all are nasty.

Can I just say that it UPSETS ME to the point where I’m considering a 30-day diet of just drywall that THAT MAN - THAT FEDERAL AGENT - HAS A FIREPLACE. IN HIS HOME OFFICE.

(HELLO?!?!?!?!?? Whore.)

Unhinged. Because:

1. A fireplace is quite literally a symbol of family and warmth (fun fact: Frank Lloyd Wright always designed homes starting with the fireplace! Oh, wait. You might not know who that is, so now this just sounds confusing. My bad. Anyway, he designed a lot of cool stuff... moving on). A fireplace belongs in a living room or dining area, where people actually gather. And considering Hotch’s building is old, there is no way it was originally designed to have one in a private office. That placement is categorically wrong. You’re a terrible designer if you stick a fireplace in an isolated office but not in the main living space where it actually makes sense.

2. The writers could try to lie to my face and say, “Oh, maybe the room was repurposed into Hotch’s home office.”Wrong. His apartment has a big open-concept living/dining area with the kitchen on the side. And unless his place is secretly Rossi’s mansion (spoiler: it’s not), there’s no way the original layout had a separate formal dining room. And even if it did, the fireplace is still in the wrong damn place because formal dining rooms are typically closer to the entry.

3. They could lie even harder and try to argue that Hotch having a fireplace in his office is some deep, symbolic artistic choice - like, oh, he’s so devoted to his job, he’d rather warm his ass doing paperwork than sit by the fire reading Jack a bedtime story like a decent human being. Like. Come on. He’s a family man, for god’s sake. Either give him a properly placed fireplace or JUST DON’T GIVE HIM ONE AT ALL.

(Less is more, people!!! Unless, of course, we’re talking about Hotch’s [REDACTED]... oof. Damn censorship. Right when I was about to say something deeply unholy. )

Goodbye. See you in the next issue.

Hopefully by the end of this series we'll manage to sketch down the entire floorplan

Phi.

[dxxtruction]

///