#spencer is a perfect cherub

[blooming-violets]

Who are some of your favorite tv/book/movie characters? And what is it about them that you love?

Oh jesus there are so many and I'm brain farting on all of them. I need to have a think...

Let's start with the obvious because he's who this tumblr is about.

My sweet baby boy Peter Parker (tasm version but all Peter Parker's are precious to me):

Why? He's angsty, he loves to self flagellate, he blames the world's problems on himself, he's an introvert (now that I think about most of my fav characters are probably angsty introverts) he turns into a giddy nervous idiot around the girl he loves, he's sassy and cocky and stubborn and a bit of an ass at times, he's also a mushy little lover boy who simps hard for his ladies, he's a mommas boy (well...aunties boy), he mourns his losses hard and doesn't know how to get over them, he destroys personal relationships in misguided attempts to protect his loved ones, he's a perfect baby and can do no wrong and I love to turn him into a serial killing monster in my fics.

My second favorite sweet baby boy Spencer Reid:

Why? He's another sad angsty introverted baby. I have a type. A gentle personality with an intense drive to protect his loved ones. Is self sacrificing. Would give up his life and safety in a second to save a stranger. He's a literal genius with an eidetic memory. Much like Peter Parker he would be an absolute simp for his ladies. He just wants someone to love him for himself and not have to watch his love get shot in the head in front of his eyes and traumatize him forever. Is that too much to ask for this poor angel?? Omg him and Peter really are a lot alike. So much trauma.

My favorite vampire hunter Guillermo de la Cruz:

Why? I love that he started off being a timid pushover who's only dream was to become a vampire. Then he transforms in the most badass, gay, plus sized serial killer/vampire hunter. I'm pretty sure he's a sociopath. He's an evil bitch who looks like a sweet cherub in a grandpa cardigan. He has killed and will kill again to get what he wants. He will manipulate anyone and take control of his own life. I love him. I love that even though his morals are reprehensible, you still can't help but be on his side and root for his success in whatever nefarious scheme he has going on.

I should put this shit under a read more. I'm getting carried away and now I can't stop.

My heart and soul April Ludgate:

Why? I would die for Aubrey Plaza. April is my favorite weirdo. She's a mean, harsh, scary, sarcastic bitch on the outside but a nervous, self doubting, awkward, loyal baby on the inside. She is a queen and deserves the world. And she adopted a three legged pitbull named Champion. She gave birth in full zombie make up. She's a Halloween loving freak. Her friends become her family. She's a ride or die kind of girl. She is perfection.

Yes I fell hard on the Munson train, sue me:

Why? Why not? Look at him! He's lovely! He's an 80's outcast nerdy metal head who sells pot to his peers out of his lil lunch box. What a hero! People love to discuss his sexuality. To throw my hat into the mix, personally, I think he's pansexual. I think he would straight up fall in love with anyone who gives him an ounce of kindness and attention. He's a little dumb scaredy cat with a heart of gold and probably chain smokes himself to sleep every night. 10/10 would ride him deep into the night. He might of died young (in the dumbest way ever like the dumbass that he is) but he will always live on in the fics I create in my headspace as I go to bed each night.

okay last one

Michonne from the Walking Dead:

Why? I would let her behead me with her katana without a second thought. She's the most bad ass bitch on that show (granted I haven't actually watched the show in forever, I stopped after Carl died, but I still adore those first handful of seasons). Like most of my other idiots on this list, Michonne is a quiet introvert who is fiercely loyal to people she considers family. She doesn't say much but when she does, it's important and you should fucking listen. She's intelligent, crafty, knows how to survive, and is stronger than any man on that show. What's not to love?

#asks

[themetaphorgirl]

alright but can i request a patron saint hotch loopy on day quill one shot?? bc i would love to read that even if it takes like 3 years to get around to it 🥺🥺🥺

did I get in the mood to write something cuddly and kind of silly with lots of Alex and Aaron: The Wonder Twins vibes???

yes I did. also I wrote over half of this on my phone during my break at work.

----------

“...so when you think about it colloquially, it’s perfectly acceptable to refer to the monster as Frankenstein, so-“

Alex moved Spencer’s glass of orange juice out of the way before he could knock it over with an overenthusiastic wave of his hand. “JJ, what are you doing?” she asked, exasperated.

JJ reached into her cereal bowl, picked up a couple of pieces, and tossed it into an empty mug. “There’s too much cereal in my lucky charms, I only wanted the marshmallows,” she said.

“You can’t eat just marshmallows, Jennifer.”

“I’m not. I got donuts too.”

“Hotch wasn’t here to stop her,” Emily snickered. 

Alex sighed. “Where is Hotchner?” she said. “It’s not like him to be late.” 

“He said he slept through his alarm and he’d meet us here,” Derek said, stabbing his fork into a hashbrown. 

“That’s also not like Hotch,” Alex said. She caught Spencer before he could topple out of his chair onto the floor. “Darling, I’m so glad you’re this enthusiastic at seven in the morning, but please sit down.”

Spencer obeyed, sliding down from his knees to sit on his bottom. “I got the wrong juice, I don’t like this kind,” he said. “I got the kind with pulp.”

“Why didn’t you get the kind you like?” Alex asked. 

“Hotch gets it for me because I’m too short to see the labels. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

Alex pulled her phone out of her skirt pocket. “He hasn’t texted me or the group chat,” she said. “It’s not like him to be late.”

“Should we be worried? I feel like we should be worried,” Penelope said. 

“We don’t need to worry,” Alex said. “Spencer, what are you doing?”

“Getting the pulp out of my juice. I shouldn’t have to chew juice.”

“Please put the spoon down.”

“I’ll get you juice,” Penelope promised.

“Thank you,” Alex said. “And can you please get something for JJ that isn’t dehydrated marshmallows?”

“I like them.”

“Eat a fruit, Jennifer!”

Derek paused as Penelope left the table. “Uh...we might need to worry about Hotch,” he said. 

Alex twisted around in her seat to look behind her. “Oh, fuck,” she sighed. 

Hotch’s tie was knotted wrong, leaving one end of the tie dangling by his belt buckle, and his blazer was misbuttoned. His dark hair flopped over his eyes, still sleep-mussed, and his backpack was unzipped. “Hey, guys,” he said. “Sorry I’m late.” He tried to hang his backpack on the empty chair next to Alex but missed completely, sending it crashing to the floor. “Well, shit.”

“What the hell is wrong with you, dude?” Emily said. 

Hotch blinked. “I overslept,” he said, rubbing his ear. “What time is it?”

“Almost time to go to homeroom,” Alex said. “Are you okay?”

He kept rubbing his ear. “Huh?” he said. He sat down heavily next to Alex. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Do I have time to eat?” 

JJ slid her mug of cereal over to him. “You can have the rest of my lucky charms,” she offered. 

Hotch scooped a handful of dry cereal into his mouth and frowned. “What happened to all the marshmallows?” he asked. 

“I ate them.”

“You can have my juice,” Spencer offered. 

Hotch reached around Alex, picked up the glass, and took a swig. “Ugh, there’s stuff in it,” he complained. “I don’t want to chew my juice.”

“That’s what I said!” Spencer said. 

Alex frowned. “I don’t think you’re okay,” she said. She touched the back of her hand to his forehead. “Yikes, Aaron. You’re burning up.”

“Hm?” he said. He coughed, a thick sound rattling deep in his chest. “I’m okay. I drank like...half a bottle of DayQuil.”

“I can tell,” she said, poking at the damp orange stain on his uniform shirt. He squinted down at it and frowned. “Also, drinking half a bottle of DayQuil doesn’t mean you’re okay. I think that’s the opposite of okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” Hotch said. “I have a test in second period I can’t miss.”

Emily caught his arm across the table. “Stop, stop, stop,” she said. “Do you know you’re about to pour your juice into your cereal?”

Hotch paused long enough for Alex to carefully take the glass out of his hand while he blinked in confusion. “Maybe you should make up the test later,” she suggested. 

“No, I can handle a test,” he said. He blinked, then clapped a hand over his face. “Oh, shit. I think I only put one contact in this morning.” He rubbed the heel of his palm into his eye. “Shit. Aw, yikes.”

“You need to go back to bed,” Alex said. “Or the nurse’s office.”

He swatted at her hand. “No, I don’t, Alexandra,” he said. “It’s just a chest cold. Stop treating me like Spencer.”

Spencer scowled. “I think I’m insulted by that,” he said. 

Alex put Spencer’s fork back in his hand. “Eat your breakfast,” she said. “Listen, Hotch, I can’t stop you if you want to go to class. But nobody’s going to judge you if you stay in your room and rest.”

Hotch coughed into his elbow. “I’m gonna get a Red Bull,” he said, pushing himself out of his chair and nearly knocking it over in the process. 

“Oh, he’s definitely sick,” Derek said. “You hear his Virginia accent coming out? He sounds like Colonel Sanders.”

“Don’t worry, Al, I’ll keep an eye on him,” Emily said. 

“Thanks,” she said. “Spencer, you have to drink your juice. You and Hotch have no immune systems and if he gets sick, you’re going to get sick, and I can’t deal with both of you coughing up a lung.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Spencer said. “Although vitamin C-“

“Drink your juice.”

By the time breakfast was over Alex was confident that Hotch wasn’t going to last the whole day. His cough was deep and persistent, and he kept absentmindedly rubbing his ears. She couldn’t exactly blame him- she’d pulled similar stunts herself when a big test or project was coming up- but this was more than a mild cold. Most likely he’d make it to lunch before he relented. 

To her surprise, it was even sooner. 

She got to chapel early and pulled out her book to read, but she nearly dropped it when Emily’s voice cut through the soft chatter of the hall. 

“Hey, Alex, come get your twin!”

Alex picked up her book and set it back beside her. “For the last time, Emily, stop telling everybody that Hotch and I are twins,” she said. She stopped. “Oh, no.”

Hotch was leaning heavily on Emily’s shoulder, his eyes glazed over. “Hey, I think I need to sit down,” he said. 

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Emily huffed, struggling under his weight. “You shouldn’t have gone to class in the first place.”

“I had a test,” he said. 

Alex crossed her arms. “Yeah?” she said. “How’d that go for you, bubba?”

“I’m not sure, I don’t remember taking the test,” he confessed. “I remember sitting down at my desk and then...everything got kind of blurry.”

Alex sighed. “Please tell me you’re going back to your room to rest,” she said. 

“I mean...it’s not that bad.” Hotch said. “I’ve been sicker before.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

Emily scanned the chapel doors. “Oh, wow, is that Haley Brooks over there?” she said. “You should go over and say hello. Haley! Hi, Haley!” 

“No!” Hotch said. “Jesus, Emily, I don’t want to talk to her right now, I look like shit!”

“Then you should definitely go back to your room before she sees you,” Emily said. She gave him a gentle push towards the back exit doors. “Come on, hurry up.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Alex called, but he was out the door already, his still-unzipped backpack dangling off one shoulder. 

Emily tilted her head. “I don’t think he heard you,” she said. “He looks like death warmed over through. I’m kind of worried. Which means your spidey-sense must have bypassed tingling and gone straight to exploding.”

“I should have gone with him,” Alex said. “Although I’m not sure I would be able to explain missing classes.”

“Just tell your teachers you have to take care of your brother,” Emily suggested. 

Alex rolled her eyes. “Listen, I don’t know you and Dave keep telling everybody we’re related,” she said. “We’re in different grades. We have different last names.”

“C’mon, it’s fun, you’re the Wonder Twins,” Emily said. She squished Alex’s cheeks and laughed. “You look enough alike to pass for siblings.”

“Nobody thinks that,” Alex said flatly, batting her hand away. “We’d better go sit before chapel starts.”

She kept her phone close through chapel and her third period class. He didn’t text her, but that wasn’t reassuring either. No news wasn’t necessarily good news.

The bell rang at the end of third period, but she hesitated before she started the walk towards the dining hall. She tapped her fingertips against the back of her phone case, and after a moment she typed out a text. Her phone buzzed seconds later with an answer.

Jamie <3

11:26am

yeah I figured youd want to check on him. dont worry about the baby i’ll make sure he eats a vegetable. love you!!!! 

Alex felt the back of her neck heat up as she smiled at the screen. The whole love thing was still shiny and new and made little sparks prickle at the nape of her neck. 

She slung the strap of her satchel across her shoulder and made the trek across campus to Lincoln House. Hotch had given her a spare key fob- Derek was constantly losing and finding his, resulting in multiple replacements floating around- and she let herself into the quiet lobby. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too many people around.

“Ah, Miss Miller. What are you doing over here? Shouldn’t you be in the dining hall?”

Alex jumped. She was not expecting to see Mr. Gideon standing in the lobby and staring at her. “Checking on my brother, he’s, uh, he’s sick,” she blurted out.

“Oh, the big one or the little one?” he asked. 

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You know,” he said. “Aaron or Spencer?”

“It’s, uh, it’s the big one this time,” she said.

Mr. Gideon nodded sagely. “Your twin,” he said. “Well, go on up. Hope he feels better soon.”

He walked out to his office and closed the door; she sighed heavily. Maybe Emily and Dave were on to something after all.

She made her way up the stairs to the seventh floor and knocked lightly on his closed door. “Hotch?” she called. “It’s Alex. I just wanted to check on you.” He didn’t answer. “Hotch?” She tried the handle. “Oh, of course you locked the door.” She pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and stuck it in the keyhole. 

The lock popped easily after a bit of fiddling and she opened the door. “Oh, Jesus Christ, Hotchner,” she sighed. 

His unzipped backpack had dumped half its contents in the middle of the floor when he’d dropped it, along with his uniform blazer and his right shoe. Hotch was sprawled out on his bed on top of the covers, his long gangly legs dragging on the floor and his left shoe still on. He was still wearing his uniform and his rarely-worn glasses perched at a crooked angle on his nose, threatening to fall off at any moment as he snored. 

“You’re dead to the world, aren’t you, bubba?” she said aloud. She set her satchel and blazer down on Hotch’s desk and sat on the edge of his bed. His breathing was shallow and congested, and his face was flushed red. “Hotch. Hotchner. Wake up for a second.” She pinched him lightly and his eyes shot open. “Hey, good, you’re awake.”

“What the fuck?” he mumbled. He rubbed his eyes, knocking his glasses sideways. “How did you get in here?”

“Picked the lock with a bobby pin,” she said.

He scrunched up his nose. “Like Annie Drew?”

“It’s Nancy Drew, and maybe that’s where I learned it from, I read a lot of mystery novels when I was an impressionable middle schooler,” she said. She tucked her legs underneath her and touched the back of her hand to his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Like hot garbage,” he said. “This cold is kicking my ass.”

“I don’t think you have a cold, bubba, I think you have bronchitis,” she said. “Did you take anything when you got back here or did you just crash?”

“Well, I’ve had most of a bottle of DayQuil today,” he said. He struggled to sit up. “You know what happens when you drink most of a bottle of DayQuil?”

“No, what happens?”

“Nothing good, I’ll tell you that for free,” he said. 

Alex winced in sympathy. “You threw up?”

He ran his hands through his hair and dragged his palms over his face. “It was neon orange, Al,” he said, slightly muffled. 

“That’s no good,” she said. “Did you-”

He broke into a cough, thick and heavy and rattling in his lungs, and Alex rubbed his back. “Hey, you’re okay,” she said gently. “Take a deep breath. You’re okay,”

It took a moment for him to settle down and breathe normally again; his glasses tilted drunkenly on his nose and his eyes were watering. “That sucked,” he rasped. 

“Yeah, I bet,” she said. “You’ve got the sore throat, right? Feels like you swallowed broken glass?”

“I was going to say barbed wire, but yeah,” he said. 

Alex squeezed his knee. “Get out of your uniform and lie down,” she said. “I’ll go get you something to drink. How much water have you had today?”

“If Red Bull counts, then I’ve had two waters.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll go get you water and a gatorade,” she said. “You get changed.”

She started to leave the room. “Hey, Alex?” he asked. She paused in the doorway. “Can you get me a purple one?”

“Yes, I’ll get you a purple gatorade.”

“The light purple, not the dark purple,” he called after her.

“I remember, I remember,” she called back. 

She went down to the vending machines and got him two bottled waters and a light purple gatorade. For all his mature-for-his-age, old soul vibe, Hotch was as hard to handle as Spencer when he wasn’t feeling well.

His door was cracked when she got back to his room, but she paused. He’d changed into flannel pajama pants and he was struggling into one of his wrestling tee shirts. Alex bit back a wince and ducked back into the hallway. She rarely saw the scars on his back, but he usually kept them well hidden and it never got easier to see it. He didn’t like to talk about it, and she didn’t blame him.

When she was sure the coast was clear she stepped back into the room. Hotch sat on his bed, his shoulders slumped and his head in his hands. “Headache?” she asked as she set the bottles down on his nightstand. 

“It feels like there’s a rock concert playing directly in my brain,” he said.

She went into his bathroom and dug around in the medicine cabinet. He didn’t have much for himself; it was mostly medicine they kept on hand for Spencer. “Oh, I can give you the big boy ibuprofen instead of the chewable stuff,” she teased. She set the bottle of ibuprofen down with the drinks. “This first though. Hold still.”

She set the thermometer in his ear and he jumped. “Ow,” he complained. “You could have warned me.”

“If I warned you, you’d try to argue,” she said. It beeped and she held it out so he could see the readout. “A hundred point four. You’re not going to class today, or tomorrow either.”

He rolled his eyes. “At least I got my test done,” he said. 

“How do you think you did?” she asked. 

“I don’t think I failed.”

Alex took his hand so she could place the pills in his hand, then opened one of the bottles of water. “Take these. Drink all of this. And then go to sleep,” she said. 

“I’m not tired, I had so much DayQuil,” he complained as he popped the pills in his mouth. 

“Which you’ve already puked back up,” she pointed out. “You need to get some sleep.”

He chugged a third of the water and paused to cough. “I just need to rest,” he said. “Can you hand me my laptop.”

“No.”

Hotch scowled. “Alexandra. Give me my laptop,” he said. “I have an essay due on Friday.” 

She grabbed his laptop and wrestled it into her school bag. “You can have it back when you’re not running a fever,” she said. 

“Alex!” he whined. “I need to work on that.” She bit back a laugh. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“Sorry, it’s hard to take you seriously with your nerd glasses on,” she said. He huffed, which turned into another cough. “Seriously, Aaron. You need to take it easy. And it’s school policy that you can’t attend classes until you’ve been fever-free for twenty-four hours.” He rubbed his ear. “Besides, you know Spencer’s going to try to spend quality time with you, and he’s not going to be able to handle it if he catches what you have. The more you rest and take care of yourself, the sooner you’ll get over it.”

Hotch sighed. “Fine,” he said. “You win.”

“I usually do.”

“You just had to play the Spencer card.” 

“I was saving it just in case.”

Hotch set the empty water bottle back on the nightstand and shifted around until he was under the covers. “Are you going back to class?” he asked. “Lunch is almost over.”

He sounded nonchalant, but he was avoiding her eyes and tugging at a loose thread on his comforter. “I can stay a while longer,” she said. “Besides, if anybody asks where I was, Gideon can tell them I was with you. You know he thinks we’re twins too?”

“For such a brilliant man, he’s kind of clueless,” Hotch said. “I’m not going to sleep, but I’ll rest, okay?”

“Sure,” Alex said. “Do you want to watch something?” She pulled at the laces of her ankle boots. “Do you want to watch wrestling?”

“I don’t watch wrestling.”

Alex looked him up and down. “We all know you’re a secret wrestling fan,” she said. “And even if you say you’re not, I can read your tee shirt.”

“No one ever wants to watch wrestling with me,” he said.

“Yes, well, you’re sick, you should get to watch what you want,” she said. She set her boots aside and handed him the remote. “Now scoot over.”

He paused, the remote balanced in his hand as the TV blinked on. “Why?” he asked.

“Because I said so,” she said. “I mean it! Scoot over.”

He obeyed, still clearly confused, and she pulled and tugged at him until they both fit on his narrow twin bed, his head resting on her stomach. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Wow, you really are mostly limbs, aren’t you?”

“I’ve had a couple of growth spurts,” he said. “You’re sure you want to watch wrestling with me?”

“Go for it,” she said. 

Truthfully she had no desire to watch wrestling, but she knew it would make him happy, and when he was this sick he deserved things that would make him happy. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, and before long she heard him snoring again, the sound thick and rattling in his lungs. When she was sure he was asleep she tugged his glasses off and set them aside on the nightstand. Most likely he would wake up cranky and groggy and he’d try to argue that he could go to class, but for now she could keep him calm and quiet, and hopefully the sleep would help. 

“Maybe you’ll be a little bit less of an absolute disaster when you wake up,” she said, and she kept stroking his hair while he slept. 

#au: patron saint of lost causes #caitlin writes things #patron saint: hotch #patron saint: alex #patron saint: the wonder twins #alex is a mom #hotch is an ABSOLUTE DISASTER #spencer is a perfect cherub #wow james loves alex #emily is a queen #EAT A FRUIT JENNIFER #yes hotch is a secret wrestling fan #criminal minds fanfiction #brenna has helped me workshop a lot of ideas for my hotch arc and some of those ideas are popping up here #Anonymous #thank you for asking!!