#autistic fitz

Thanks for the ask!

2. Stimming head canons?

Well, we know from canon that he flaps his hands when upset. I like that one (not that he’s upset, but that he flaps his hands). I also headcanon that he rocks and bangs his head (which is also canon from 5x05), and chews/bites.

7. what calms them down?

Deep pressure, time alone, stimming

11. how do they prefer to communicate? are they non verbal/have periods of being non verbal? do they use sign language? do they talk? do they prefer text, etc? 

I really like the idea of Fitz using British Sign Language to communicate when he’s nonverbal, or he’s struggling with words.

I’m autistic too and can relate a lot to Fitz. I don’t know how much of it was purposely written in vs. Iain’s amazing acting, but I’m happy we have a character like Fitz to relate to.

If you haven’t seen it, @buckysbears has an awesome Autistic Fitz meta here.

Happy first day of Pride Month!!!!! Here you go:

Untitled Queerplatonic FitzHuntingbird Fic

Fitz has never really understood the concept of friendship and the rules surrounding it, so it’s no wonder that all his friendships turn into something more. It was Simmons who gave him the word for it at the Academy. Queerplatonic. She knows about it because of her aromanticism. He likes the word. He likes having a label.

He doesn’t really know when his friendship with Bobbi and Hunter turns from just friendship to queerplatonic (again, the whole concept of friends vs. other relationships is very confusing), but at some point he recognizes that it has done so.

He goes back and forth, arguing with himself over whether to bring up the label with them. He thinks Bobbi might know what it means, because she’s been discovering that she’s aromantic as well, but he’s not sure if Hunter would.

~*~*~*~

One night, he and Hunter are up late. They’ve had a couple beers and they’re sitting on the couch in the common room watching a documentary on ‘The Mystery Monkeys of Shangri-La’ Hunter had recorded for him. The documentary finishes and Fitz rests his head against Hunter’s shoulder. “I love you,” he tells him, staring at the television screen as the credits scroll past.

“I love you too,” Hunter replies after a short pause.

Fitz tugs on his lip as he ponders the pause. “Not in a sexual way,” he clarifies after thinking it through. “In a queerplatonic way.”

“And I love you in a queerplatonic way,” Hunter says. “I paused ‘cause I was trying to decide if I should make a Star Wars reference or not.”

Fitz lets out a soft laugh as he understands what Hunter is getting at. “Save that for Bobbi,” he advises.

“Oh, we’ve been there, done that,” Hunter tells him.

“TMI,” Fitz says as he gets up.

Hunter stands as well and pulls Fitz into a hug, kissing his cheek. “Goodnight, love.”

“Night.”

~*~*~*~

He never does bring it up with Bobbi. They both just sort of understand without needing to talk about it. It’s obvious in the way they bicker and squabble like siblings, in the way he goes to her for advice, and she comes to him for comfort, in the casual touches they share, and the way their brains just seem to connect.

Fitz enjoys spending time with Bobbi and Hunter separately. He and Hunter argue about football, and Hunter finds that he’s actually interested in the nature documentaries Fitz enjoys, so they have good discussions about those. Fitz likes working out with Bobbi, learning basic self defense skills he’d always been too anxious to learn from May. He likes spending time with her in the lab.

Most of all, he likes it when the three of them spend time together. He likes it when they make meals together and Bobbi and Hunter bicker about the best way to cook mushrooms. He likes it when they cuddle together, and when they play board games together, and he’d even enjoyed that one time when they’d each gotten tipsy and Bobbi convinced them to re-enact Star Wars scenes with her. Bobbi had been Leia, Fitz had been Luke, and Hunter was Han. She’d even somehow managed to charm Mack into playing Chewbacca. He thinks Daisy has video of it somewhere ready to use as blackmail material should the need ever arise.

Turns out the beach is sensory hell for Leo…

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A Trip to the Beach

Leopold Fitz was 4-years-old and he was about to go to the beach for the very first time. Mummy had told him all about it on the train ride to Largs. She’d told him about the sand, and the water, and how he’d be able to smell the salt water. There would be a lot of people there too, she said, since it was a sunny, warm day.

She didn’t mention anything about the monkeys, though. Leo was very excited about seeing the monkeys. His Encyclopaedia of Interesting Monkey Facts had a whole page about Monkey Beach and how friendly the monkeys were with humans. Leo knew he looked human, even though he was really a monkey, and he hoped the monkeys at Monkey Beach would be able to tell the truth.

He held Mummy’s hand as they walked from the train station to the beach. Daddy was behind them carrying their bags. There were a lot of people around. He heard them talking and yelling to each other. He heard the sound of cars driving down the road, occasionally honking their horns. There were a lot of smells too. He wasn’t able to identify most of them, and that bothered him. Several of the smells were very stinky, and Leo wrinkled his nose in disgust. The sun was very bright and it was starting to hurt his skin. He closed his eyes, but then he tripped on the pavement.

For @buckysbears also tagging @jewishfitz Happy Hanukkah, friends!!!

Summary: Fitz's Mum teaches her son how to play the dreidel game.

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Leopold Fitz was seven-years-old and busy building Lego in his bedroom. It was Sunday, which meant that he didn’t have to go to school, and was free to do whatever he wanted (as long as Mummy said it was okay, and it didn’t upset Daddy). He absently rubbed his finger over the dots of a green Lego as he considered what to build next. Maybe he’d ask Mummy if she would take him to the park. That would be fun. He could go up to the top of the climbing frame.

He let go of the Lego and got up, heading to the kitchen where he found Mummy sitting at the table, something spinning in front of her. Leopold was transfixed as he watched the spinning object, his mouth hanging open slightly. It stopped spinning and fell over, and Leopold saw symbols that he didn’t recognize on the sides. “Mummy? What’s that?”

Mummy turned to look at him and opened her arms invitingly. Leopold climbed into her lap and reached out to examine the strange object. It was small and wooden, and each of the four sides had a different symbol painted on.

“It’s called a dreidel,” Mummy explained. “It’s a game. To play, each player has an equal number of pieces, and you take turns spinning the dreidel. Each of the sides has a different meaning that tells you what to do.” She took it from Leopold and showed him one side. “This is shin. It means you add one piece to the pot.” She turned it to the second side. “This is hey. It means you get half of what’s in the pot.” She turned it to the third side. “This is gimel. It means you get everything in the pot.” She turned it a final time. “This is nun. It means you do nothing.”

“Make it spin,” Leopold requested. Mummy put the dreidel on the table and twisted it with her thumb and pointer finger. Leopold stared at it as it spun, relaxing against his mother as he watched. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tight, just how he liked.

“Do you remember what that side is called?” Mummy asked once the dreidel had stopped spinning and fallen on one of the sides.

Leopold stuck his fingers in his mouth to chew as he thought. “Hey?” he guessed.

“That’s right!” Mummy squeezed him again and kissed the top of his head. “Would you like to play the game?”

“Okay.”

“Hop up, love, I need to get pieces for us to play with.”

While Mummy went to the pantry, Leopold went to the cupboard next to the oven and opened the door. He found what he wanted and brought it back to the table, sitting it in the middle. Mummy came back with a bag of pretzels, stopping once she noticed the pot in the middle of the table. “Leopold, why-” she began to ask, before stopping and answering herself, “-oh, because I said that we put the pieces in the pot.” She handed the pretzels to Leo. “Count out 15 for each of us, love.”

Leopold did so, giving 15 pretzels to Mummy and keeping 15 for himself. “Now,” Mummy said, “we start by putting one in the pot.” They did so. “And you get to spin first, because you’re the youngest.”

Leopold picked up the dreidel between his fingers and gave it a twist, flapping his hand as he watched it spin. “Gimel?” he asked Mummy once it had landed.

“That’s right; that means you get to take everything in the pot.”

Leopold took the two pretzels out, and then they both put one pretzel in. Mummy spun the dreidel and it landed on nun . They continued taking turns spinning the dreidel until a few particularly lucky spins of Mummy landing on nun several times in a row, and Leopold landing on gimel meant that Leopold won all the pretzels.

“Can I eat them now?” Leopold wanted to know.

Mummy smiled and nodded. “Yes, you can eat them.” She took the pot to the sink and Leopold began spinning the dreidel on the table while he ate his snack. He liked watching it spin. “Did you like that game, Leopold?” Mummy asked once she returned to the table.

“Yes.”

“I played it with my mummy when I was a little girl, during Hanukkah.”

“Hanukkah’s a holiday,” Leopold observed.

“Yes, it is,” Mummy said. “It’s a Jewish holiday.”

“Can I take the dreidel to my room?” Leopold asked. He had finished his pretzels and was tired of talking. He wanted to keep watching the dreidel spin. Mummy nodded and Leopold went to his room.

Written for @teamengineering‘s Fitz’s Birthday Wish List. I’m so sorry it’s so late! Based on the prompt: A visit with his Mum

Takes place pre-season two

Title changed from A Visit Home to A Bit of Home because I realized I had another fic titled A Visit Home

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Fitz sat on the couch in the common room. A single lamp was on, giving him just enough light to see. It was late. Everyone else was in bed. Fitz should be in bed too, but he wasn’t.

Everything was different. Everything had changed. Fitz didn’t like change. They’d turned his old lab on the Bus into a garage without even asking him. Now he had to work in a new lab. With people he didn’t know. Without Simmons. ‘Cause Simmons had left without even asking him.

She’d stayed through his birthday, and then she’d told him she was going away for awhile—to see her parents. Fitz understood why she wanted to see them; but he didn’t understand why she couldn’t—wouldn’t—take him along too. They’d begun visiting each other's families together while they were still going to the Academy. He liked visiting her parents. Nothing ever changed at the Simmons’ house. And Glasgow was a lot closer to Sheffield than it was to America.

Homesickness rushed over him like a tidal wave. Tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision, and he pressed his arm against his eyes as he began to cry quietly. He wanted to go to Glasgow. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his bedroom that hadn’t changed since he left at 16 because his Mum knew better than to change anything without asking, and he wanted to see the park he’d played at as a child with the climbing frame where he’d spent so many hours pretending he was a monkey. Most of all, though, he wanted to see—

A mug was placed on the coffee table in front of him. Fitz swiped his arm across his eyes and looked up to see May standing next to the couch, holding her own mug.

“I want my mum,” he blurted out, and he didn’t care if he sounded like a child. “Simmons—Simmons went to see her parents; I want to go see my mum.”

“Okay,” was all that May said.

Fitz gaped at her. “Okay?” he echoed, cocking his head slightly in confusion.

“Okay,” May repeated. “I’ll make arrangements.”

Fitz picked up the mug, not quite believing that she actually would follow through. May typically meant what she said, but Fitz still didn’t want to get his hopes up only to be disappointed. He took a sip and found that it was tea, exactly as sweet as he preferred. “Thank you.”