#my s/i happy stims by kicking their feet like me

[fitzselfships]

I feel like Zooble would think it's adorable that I happy stim over them :]

[ms5m1th]

Khonshu does some magic stuff and it creates a obstacle: bath time.

----

"Khonshu,"

"I can fix it,"

"Then do it now,"

Mama glares at Khonshu while 3 men hide behind her, refusing to look at the scary bird.

"It will take some time,"

"Then hurry up, now."

Khonshu nods, and quickly disappears.

"Mommy?"

She takes a deep breath, and turns around, smiling at her anxious boys.

"Yes, prince? What is it?"

"Are you okay?"

"'Cause I can beat him up for you!"

Jake interrupts, Marc just shifting side to side, sucking on the back of his fingers. Mama chuckles, and tickles Jake's neck teasingly.

"I'm okay, babies. Just a little frustrated with the big bird. Nothing to do with you guys."

Jake and Steven nodded.

"How about you two get your pajamas and get ready to take a bath."

"Okie/Okay!"

The two run off, leaving her and Marc alone.

"Baby?"

Marc looks up, his eyes slightly watery.

"Are you okay? Do you need Mama to do anything?"

Marc sniffles gently, and takes his fingers out of his mouth.

"I don't like it,"

He whispered, shuffling closer to Mama, getting caught in a hug.

"Don't like what honey?"

"I feel weird, Mama. 's only me now."

Mama kisses his head, rocking him gently.

"I know. The big bird messed stuff up, huh?"

Marc nods, whimpering just thinking about the situation.

"I know, baby. It's unfair. But you know what?"

Marc looks up at her, staring at her intently.

"Nobody is going to treat you any differently. I'm still gonna love you, and so do Jake and Steven. Okay? No one's gonna mistreat you because your in a smaller place than them, okay?"

Marc puts the back of his fingers in his mouth, hiding his smile as he nods.

"Is my baby hiding?"

He shakes his head, but hides his head in her neck as he giggles. She chuckles, but let's it happen.

"Okay, baby boy. Let's go take a bath, okay?"

He hums happily as she picks him up, taking him to the bedroom where Steven and Jake busy themselves.

"Boys?"

They turn to Mama, smiling.

"Marc is a little smaller than you two, so I want you to be a little gentle with him, okay?"

"Okay, Mami!"

"Is he gonna take a baf wit' us?"

"Yes, I just have to get his pajamas."

She turns to Marc, gently brushing his curls out of his face.

"Do you need a diaper, baby? Or are you a big boy today?"

"'M big, Mama."

"Okay. Boys, go to the bathroom and each pick one toy. If he needs help, help Marc out of his clothes please."

"Okay, Mommy!"

She puts Marc down, rocking him as he whines as his feet hit the ground.

"Go with Jake and Steven, okay? I'll be right there."

He released her with a nod, turning to the other boys. Steven smiles, extending his hand to the smaller boy. He takes it, sniffling as they guide him away.

"C'mon, Marc! I'm gonna show you my favorite baf toy!"

"I can protect you from the bath monsters if you're scared!"

"Jake! There's no baf monsters!"

That was the last thing she heard before they were out of her earshot. She quickly gets Marc's pajamas, walking into the bathroom to see a warming sight.

Marc sits in Jake's lap, fiddling with his toy as Steven talks excitedly. Jake set's his head on Marc, smiling gently at the moment, his toy on the sink.

"I never get to talk to you guys when I'm little, so I'm excited!"

Steven pauses, his smile slowly going away.

"Go," Marc urged, wanting to hear the rest of the story, stimming and kicking his feet as he does so. Jake nodded in agreement, "Keep goin', buddy!"

Steven's smile returns and happy stims as he continues his story.

"You all being good?" She finally walks in, setting Marc's pajamas onto of the others.

"Uh-huh! I'm telling them a story!"

Steven giggles as Mama blows air into his neck.

"Keep on going then, prince."

He does so without hesitation. She fills the tub, checking the temperature before she nods to herself.

"Toys, boys!"

Steven, now finished with his story, hands her a hippo toy that squirts water out of it's mouth. Jake leans over, his other arm catching Marc as he started to fall forward. He hands her a simple toy boat.

When it was Marc's turn, he whines, hugging the toy to his chest. "Baby, can I have your toy?" He shakes his head, hiding his face in Jake's neck.

"Baby, I'm not taking it forever. Just until you get in the bath, okay? Mama will give it back."

He looks up, loosening his grip on the toy.

"P'omise?"

"I promise."

He sniffles, but hands her the toy. It was a goldfish, but it had one of it's fins stitched. She grabs the toy and went to put it in the water.

"Careful,"

He muttered.

"I'll be careful, honey. Roro's okay, see? His little fin is still here." She shows him the toy one last time, before putting it in the water finally.

"Come on, baby. You first."

Marc gets in with a little help from Mama, happy stimming when he sees his toy, picking it up like he hasn't seen it in years.

"You next, prince."

"Okay!"

He slides in next to Marc, and begins showing him how his toy squirts water. Mama turns to Jake, smiling playfully.

"You gonna be good and not splash?"

Jake nods seriously.

"Marc's too little to splash, silly Mami!"

"Okay! Well, get in!"

He does so, and begins to giggle, slipping a little further as he gently pats the water. He must resist the urge to splash. He had to! He happy stims, wiggling in place as he continues to giggle. Seeing this, Mama smiles. He always tended to slip a little during bath time.

"Jake, bubba. You can stim, baby, just be careful of how hard you hit the water."

When he hears this, he hits the water a tiny bit harder, smiling so hard that his cheeks start to hurt. He always had a habit of masking, pushing down his stims. So everytime he's reminded that he can, he tends to get a little crazy.

"You boys good and warm?"

The all give affirmatives as she grabs their rightful loofahs and rags, putting them in the water. They had to soak in the water before she washed them or else they'd get uncomfortable with the texture.

"Thank you boys for being good for me and for each other."

"You're welcome, Mama/Mommy/Mami!"

Now the next obstacle that she knows she'll have trouble with: bedtime.

[atinymommy]

𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒅𝒅𝒔 ༄ 𝒋𝒉𝒔

🍼 ⇢ ˗ˏˋ — JUNG HOSEOK; j-hope

☁️. . . ⇢ happy hobi day! i'm aware that this is a new years au but let's just not talk about it ok? difnfkskdkcj✧ ೃ༄

╰┈➤ cussing; MAJOR teasing;

nipple stim; hickeys; groping;

grinding; pegging;

fingering; slight exhibitionism;

degrading; aftercare;

petnames

(a/n: die is the plural of dice, just to avoid confusion lmao nobody dies in this story wodncnsjsj)

"i hope you're ready." you teased, smirking, as you shook the two cubes in your fist before rolling them over the table. both pairs of eyes hawked over each side the die rolled onto, until it came to a stop. it was hard to miss the smile that quivered at hoseok's lips.

both of you were intoxicated. the intention was only to celebrate being roommates for a year while it was moments before the clock struck into 2021. this had started two hours ago and ended up being a lot more than just two people rejoicing in abiding under the same roof.

hoseok had started talking about this game his friends had bought him for his birthday, with the biggest flush of red marking his cheeks and ears. you've always thought he was the cutest. he was the best roommate you could've ever asked for, and honestly a really good friend too.

which is how you both had ended up on the floor, snacking on some junk food and sipping on some alcoholic beverages. tonight you two had gotten as honest and open you probably ever will. hobi told you that he didn't date much because he didn't like the pressure of being the one to take charge. you nodded, agreeing with him about how frustrating the role men have to play in relationships are. two opposites ranting over the same topic.

"okay, got ahead." hoseok giggled as he removed his sock and wiggled his toes in your face. if you weren't under the influence, you would have found this less comedic and definitely wouldn't have popped one of his toes into your mouth for a mere millisecond. "that was by far the weirdest sensation i've ever felt." his face was red with laughter.

weakly you reached for the die and strewed them over the tabletop.

the laughter died out and the both of you just stared at each other - the die engendering a thick room as either of you processed the outcome. "w-we don't have to play anymore if you don't want to..." hobi's usually stentorian voice thinning at the end of his suggestion.

possibly it was his sudden shy behaviour around you or the lack of sincerity in his voice when he spoke those words but you drew closer to him, bringing your face directly in front of his. "why? are you scared, hobi?" you taunted, observing his eyes widen and the air caught in his throat. slowly you brought your lips to his ear, whispering, "unless you want to stop..."

hoseok closed his eyes and went for it. your taunting tone mocking him into acting on his true desires in that moment. he did as the die had dared him and he began nibbling on your neck, hearing you gasp lowly in his ear motivated him. when you ran your fingers through his hair was when he began to suck harshly, causing you to tug at his roots and moan as he brought blood up to the surface.

he pulled away, needing to refill his lungs and to evaluate the marks against your skin. you, yourself, wanted to see so you looked for your phone and opened your camera. smirking, you touched the area along your pulse. "not bad for someone who didn't want to play."

you put your phone away and hobi was already throwing the dice again.

the male gasped when he read them. lick + nipples.

"i-i don't kn-ow, y/n..." the male seemed unsure and fidgety, but the hard on in his pants betrayed him.

"i'll show you mine if you show me yours?" you suggested, to which he nodded in agreement to. both of you folded your fingers under the hems of your shirts, anticipating. "one.."

"two... three." you lifted your shirt over your head, throwing the clothing item aside, and looked over to hoseok. your eyes took him in for a moment. your heart was racing at the thought of him eating up every crevice and bump on your body but, thankfully, your mind was too fogged and occupied at the moment. instinctively you reached for him, feeling his heart beat under your hands as you roamed his chest slowly, and he just gazed up at you.

you took his face in your hands, locking eyes with him and seriously informed him, "if you want to stop, tell me." he only smiled at you and lightheartedly replied with, "don't ruin my fantasy now."

this ignited you. hobi openly admitting having sexual thoughts about you made you go feral.

hastily you pulled him down onto the floor until he was under you and you brought your lips down to his collarbone,  you littered kisses along it before making your way to his buds. your hand massaged his side as you flicked over his nipple. his made him gasp.

hoseok shut his eyes and allowed you to do as you wanted with him. he lay there, whimpering when your flattened your tongue against the sensitive nub. he bit his lip when you blew cold air over the now wet area before you teasingly kitten licked the other nipple. he moaned, throwing his head back and began squirming under you. you sat up, straddling him, with a smirk. "did you like it that much?"

"too bad it's over." he heaved, trying to catch his breath again.

smiling, you got off of hobi and found your way back to the die. you rolled them once again. you could sense the boy's relief with the probability that had played out as he went back to sitting on the couch.

massage + ass.

you crawled onto hoseok's lap, placing your knees on either side of him and he cupped your ass. he lightly rubbed over your jeans, feeling unsure of himself and slightly awkward.

"c-could you take your jeans off? you can s-say no." he looked away from you, glancing to the side at a low angle. his cheeks felt numb with all the blood rushing to them.

you stood, reaching for your button and removing the bottoms. he only stared at your feet, where you kicked away the clothing, and felt too shy to see you. just his imagination was enough to build this tent in his pants, he couldn't imagine how his body would react if he could eat up every inch of you.

unfortunately for him, you weren't having it. "look at me," you scowled, folding your arms and leaned onto your hip. hesitantly he obeyed and ran his eyes over your figure. hobi couldn't help himself when the whimper left his lips and his cock twitched. "shit..." he whispered lowly to himself in awe.

you inched onto his lap again, comfortably avoiding his boner, and his hands naturally traced up your thighs.

"this is by far the most uncomfortable thing i've done this year." he mentioned as he began to knead your ass. rolling your eyes, you leaned towards him and captured his lips with yours. while running your fingers over the nape of his neck, you pushed down onto his heat. hoseok moaned into you, squeezing you harder.

he felt a tingle in his body and your movements fogged his mind. his thoughts had left him. all the knew was you.

you waited until his eyes shut to pull away. smirking, you casually walked back to the table where the die lay. hobi groaned loudly, flexing his thighs in frustration, "you are the biggest fucking tease!"

chuckling, you threw the die. butterflies fluttered in your stomach when they land on suck + thigh.

"hmmm, i'm going to enjoy this." you taunted, watching him read over the two words etched into the plastic cubes. hoseok gulped, for the tenth time in the last half-hour.

his hands trembled as he took off the last item of his outfit — only leaving him in his underwear, just as you were. he only sat there, blushing aggressively, as you oogled over him. you appreciated his sculpted legs, softer tummy and broad shoulders. "so that's what you've been hiding under there this whole time, angel?" he was taken aback by the petname. it made him even more excited.

"p-please touch me, mommy." hobi pleaded, biting his lip to hold back tears. he was so overwhelmed. he just wanted to be yours in this very moment. all he could think was you.

slowly, you crawled over to him on the floor. "since you asked so nicely, i think i might." you could see the relief on hoseok's face.

you pushed his knees apart, getting a full view of the lewd sight before you. he mewled and tried to cover himself up but you swatted his hands away. "don't hide my property from me," you snapped. "this pathetic cock is mine. you are mine." the male felt weak; just from a few words he felt as though he could cum right then and there.

he moaned when you began placing hot kisses along his inner thigh, lightly brushing your nose against his heat before moving away again. hoseok's muscles contracted under your touch while you sucked on the inner most sensitive area and he let out a throaty moan as you massaged his bulge. "ah~ yesss- t-hank you-"

you removed his boxers. his cock straightened out and met his abdomen with a light slap. hobi pulsed between his legs, and you were about to lick his flared tip when he called out, "no! wait! ah~ i-i neeeeed you. let me f-eel you mommy! p-please! i've been a good boy!" he was whiny and desperate.

this was a sight you never thought you would have seen in a million years: your roommate spread out on the couch in front of you, naked, and begging you to fuck him. you weren't complaining either.

"stay here." you demanded while you made your way into your room and scratched for your strap in your drawer. the few minutes it took for you to put it on and return, the time felt twice as long for hoseok.

you spun the male around, pushing him forward and telling him to lean onto the back of the couch. obediently he got into position, rolling his hips back to show you his puckered hole. grabbing the lube, you lathered your strap and fingers in it before slowly sliding one finger into him. he sighed in bliss, wrapping himself around you as you reached your knuckle. "m-more!" he cried out to you.

adding another finger, you began to finger him. he moaned and hunched over the furniture. "yes~ ah- it feels so good mommy." he panted.

you scissored your fingers until you felt him stretched enough. he whimpered with how empty he felt without your fingers. it wasn't long until you eased your strap into his tight hole.

hoseok arched his back and curled his toes as he swallowed you up. you snapped your hips into him suddenly, resulting in the the loudest and most unholy sound to emit from hobi. his whole body fell forward as you pounded into him. he had to hold onto the couch as you railed him.

you felt sympathetic towards your neighbours since the walls weren't soundproof at all but that didn't bother hoseok. his moans filled the whole floor probably.

your nails dug into his hips as you pulled him back while your hips rocked forward. hobi felt so wonderfully out out control as he surrendered his body to you — to use, love and bruise.

out of the blue, his phone buzzed as namjoon's caller id popped up. smirking, you passed it to him without losing your pace and dared him, "you should answer it."

"y-you're lit-erally fucking railing m-me! no!"

"be a good boy and try not to let him know what a slut you are." you sneaked over his shoulder and tapped the answer button. alarmed, hoseok put the phone to his ear, trying to keep his breathing far from suspicion. he bit his lip in an attempt to hold back his moans.

"hello?"

"hey! look, the clock is about to turn into the new year and i just wanted to say i love you man..." hobi tried his best to focus but his body betrayed him as a knot began to form in his stomach. he wasn't listening to his friend anymore. he shut his eyes as his high approached, and moaned softly enough for it to not be picked up on the phone.

"i- i- fuck!" hobi tried to talk to him but his thighs were trembling as you continued to hammer his prostate. he unexpectedly moaned the loudest he had that evening, as his cock spewed all over the couch. "mommy!"

you leaned over and whispered into his ear. "you couldn't help but let everyone know who's fucking you this good, could you, kitten? couldn't even ask for permission?" he whined in reply, too weak to answer you.

"hello? j-hope are you okay? hey!" you snatched the phone from the lump of a man hobi had been turned into and pulled out of him gently as you walked away. "hey joon, hoseok isn't feeling too well. he had too much to drink. sorry about that."

"oh okay, i'll call again tomorrow. i mean later." you glanced at the clock and it was true. hoseok came into the new year.

(a/n: don't come for me😭😭😭😭 that was an impeccable joke right there🤡😎)

"alright then, happy new year joons." you greeted.

"happy new year, 'mommy'." he teased before hanging up.

immediately you rushed to hoseok who was still in the same position you left him and carried him into his room. "shhh you did so good. i'm so proud to have an angel like you. what did i do to deserve you, hm? i didn't mean it when i called you those names. you mean so much to me."

hobi smiled at you, half asleep, and whined for you to cuddle him. and you did just that.

[vincent-frankenstein]

ADHD sides hcs :3c

self projection time? self projection time

feel free to add ur own hcs onto this im jus usin my own experiences here 

startin w PATTON

emotional regulation? who’s she? patton only knows feeling emotions with Every Single Atom in his body so powerfully he might one day Explode

if he’s happy hes HAPPY!!!!! it’s like his body fills with light and he’s walking 2 feet off the ground and nothing could go wrong — and then whoops, something goes wrong, and wh o o ps, hes crying, whoops —

has a million stuffed animals sitting aLL around the house so he always has something to Squeeze

Squeezing is a good stim dont @ me

he throws his whole body into stimming

flapping, bouncing, jumping, spinning — his body must be moving at all times or he will die 

starting things is. Very very hard for him. executive dysfunction hits DEEP and he’s just,,, paralyzed. he wants to do the thing!!! he really does!!! his brain just Wont Let Him

logan used to get very frustrated with him but then patton like, explained how it felt and a little lightbulb went off in logan’s head

“patton, I think you have adhd.”

“... i’m guessin that doesn’t mean im a-delightful-hip-dad?”

then they did some Research together and put together a plan to help patton work around executive dysfunction and, it works, sometimes

when it doesnt, logan makes hot cocoa and sits with him

AUDITORY. PROCESSING. PROBLEMS.

“Hey, Pat, what’s for dinner?” “huh?” “I said, what’s for —” “meATloaf”

hearing is an uphill struggle so sometimes he just Signs instead but a lot of the time he gets so excited about what he’s trying to say he just dissolves into flapping halfway through the sentence

lots of hyperfixations !!!! so many !!! he cycles through em one after another suuuuper quickly 

he never forgets a hyperfixation, and the mention of ANY old hyperfixations will have him cry-flapping

roman: hey did u know they’re making another phineas and ferb movie -

patton, vibrating intensely and sobbing, .5 seconds away from launching into orbit: theYR E MAKING A WHAT

ROMAN

singing is his absolute FAVORITE STIM

that moment where u reach a point in a song where ur chest just, Swells and u can feel ur voice Vibrating ? yeah

sometimes Does Not warm up beforehand bc ??? he has No Choice but to sing along to certain songs and he cant always control when they come on so his voice sometimes gets Very Raspy from belting without warmups

aside from that twirling and doing Ballet Poses are also very good stims. he stick his leggy out Real Far mmhm

roman: *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt finish it *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt fin

his room is a MESS and NO he will NOT clean it LOGAN he has a SYSTEM 

he doesnt have a system and the mess stresses him out to no end but he has one (1) braincell and it’s dedicated to Starting Projects And Not Finishing Them so

needs validation to survive

like legit if he doesnt get validation he will DIE 

on the flip side, if he gets any sort of rejection, he will also Die

logan: so I read through your latest script, and the idea is solid. We can definitely work with this. I did notice one oddly structured sentence so I fixed that for you —

roman: so you basically hate it and i should die 

rejection sensitive dysphoria is the one villain he has yet to figure out how to slay

contrary to what u might think, he keeps his hyperfixations Very close to his heart. he doesnt think he would survive it if one of the others were to criticize them

the one exception to this rule: disney. 

you cant look at this boy and tell me hes not hyperfixated on disney i mean did you s E E him in that one ep cmon

he will ramble about disney to anyone who will listen for hours. days, even, if you give him the opportunity. infodumping about disney is like injecting pure sunlight right into his bloodstream; by the end of it he’s glowing

once, after accepting anxiety, virgil and roman ended up in another debate about the Meanings of disney movies, but this time it was friendly, and by the end of it roman had gotten to ramble about each and every one of his favorite movies and he had never been happier

it was the first time virgil ever saw him Flap

they still get together to talk disney sometimes

VIRGIIIIL

virgil: *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while liste

like roman, Music is virgil’s main stim, but he prefers to just. Move. bouncin his leg and drumming his hands in the air and shaking his head etc etc

it takes. literally foreVER for him to trust the others enough to stim around them. music is his main comfort but, for a Long Time, he wouldnt let himself listen to it when the others were around, just bc he knew he’d want to stim and he couLDNT bc what if he got juDGED

but then one day roman starts singing and patton jumps up and starts spinning and virgils like “???” and logans like “that’s how they stim” and virgils like “!!!!”

he Tappy Leg Real Fast

he also has a string of beads he carries everywhere to twist around his fingers bc bead,,, Good Texture

he struggles with rsd just as badly as roman, but he shows it in a Different Way

roman hurts, but hes an actor. he’s not about to invite more rejection by letting them know how much their words hurt! no no no, he keeps up the bravado until hes back in his room and then he breaks

but virgil. the rsd hits and its like, a physical blow to his chest and he crumples, wilting in on himself, and the world around him just sorta, ebbs away. for virgil, rsd is static

after AA the others start to learn his Signs for when hes feeling Bad™ so whenever he shrinks away they’ll stop the conversation and talk him through his insecurities until he feels better

SPOOKY HYPERFIXATIONS ALL THE WAY

went to Halloween Horror Nights one (1) time and now listens to the music on repeat and just. stims for hours

also hes in love with austin gumbam from academy of villains me? self projecting? never 

knows Every Obscure Fact from Every Horror Movie Ever and the urge to infodump is Consntantly at the forefront of his mind but he Never Does

unless someone gives him permission 

virgil: oh? chucky? thats a. cool movie.  did you know that — uh. nvm

logan: no no, go on

virgil, vibrating at a speed that could shatter glass: iF YOU INSIST-

LOGAN,,,,

this bitch is just as bad at Emotional Regulation as patton

hes just better at hiding it

that little stunt w the paper in lntao? he is Constantly .5 seconds away from going apeshitt. that was just A Glimpse into the chaos

he’s just,,,, very very bad at Identifying what he’s feeling. patton hid his feelings from the others, but he still knew what he was feeling, and he knows how to identify emotions

logan, on the other hand? 

logan: passion and anger are both Hot. they must be The Same Thing

patton: i. i mean. not really

logan: goddamnit

or

patton: logan? are you crying?

logan, touching his cheek and finding Tears: hm. tragic. and here i thought i was “happy”

he’d much rather just,,, Not feel but thats not an option bc he still feels things intensely, he just doesnt know What he’s feeling most of the time

quiet stims. he runs his hands along the fabric of his tie, feeling the grooves of the stitches, and readjusts his glasses constantly. if he’s feelin extra wild, he’ll even pull out his rubix cube and solve and re-solve it without even looking

LOTS of obscure hyperfixations

he has so many books on so many different subjects,,,, his room is more of a library than a bedroom and thats just the way he likes it

throwback to that one time he hyperfixated on reptiles and thomas’ little “slimy boy” outburst had him chasing deceit around the mindscape trying to feel his scales “FOR SCIENCE”

memory. problems.

he HATES hates hates hates the fact that things slip his mind so easily. hence, the notebook, and the daily planner, and the deluge of postits hanging around his bedroom

it frustrates him to no end especiaLLY when he forgets important information in front of thomas

patton watches out for the signs of Frustration and brings logan a cup of tea later than day and helps him sort through the Mess of notes on his desk to catalogue the Important Info

just let logan and patton be adhd buds @god bls i beggeth

but when he does remember The Information and thomas praises him? effervescent

logan, after thomas called him cool, kicking down pattons door: I FINALLY KNOW WHAT HAPPINESS TRULY FEELS LIKE

patton: hey! cool your jets there, kiddo!

logan:

patton: :3c

logan, turning around: neveRMIND

patton: nO WAI T-

the day thomas called him cool was the first time he ever Flapped

[joaquinbumblebee24]

Onslaught 2/11

It was a beautiful June day, House was riding his motorcycle around the university.  He was thinking through everything that would probably go wrong in the Philippines, what if there was a typhoon?  During his time in the country, there have been three significant storms, one of which was called Monang. He had recalled the thunder;  lightning and the wind.

House hated the wind most; he hated the electric fans at home. Wilson had a fan in the study that he hated. The sound of it and how the fan felt was greeting on his nerves.

He parked the motorcycle at a park near PPTH. The team had no case. It was a frustrating day After Cuddy had browbeaten him into working the clinic.  House was sent plenty of mothers and their kids. The crying got to his nerves; he told a parent that his son wasn’t dying rather unkindly.  Cuddy was called;  she had reprimanded him for being callus in front of the father. As he stormed out of the exam room, Cuddy’s words echoed. “He can’t control himself.”

“Control yourself, Rory.” His mother’s voice played in his ears. House slammed that thought out of his mind. The fact was he couldn't change the fact that he was autistic, even if he wanted to.

“Penny for your thoughts?” House was startled by Wilson’s words. He turned around. “I heard about the incident in the clinic; You alright?” Wilson’s voice resonated in House’s ear.

He sometimes hated that he and Wilson had been best friends before turning their relationship romantic. Wilson knew him very well. House nodded. “It wasn’t fair.” He knew he sounded childish, however, he didn’t care.

“I know.” Wilson just smiled. “So you ran from the hospital to the apartment,  got your bike, rode it.”

“Yes, did Cuddy called you?”

Wilson shook his head.  "No, I heard it from Brenda the clinic nurse.”

“Am I a bad person to say that I want something to go wrong in the Philippines so that I could help?” House asked.

The constant pressure on House to be somewhat normal was taking a toll on him. “We could do Doctors without Borders if you want.”

“You're missing my point, Jimmy.” Said House as he faced Wilson now. “I wished for a distraction, not to create one.”

“Well, yeah. I know what you mean.” Wilson said. “Back to the hospital, or you want to go eat out?”

“Eat out, definitely.”

They loaded the bike to their SUV, It was a Volvo bought by Wilson for its safety features. House thought that it was a boring car.

They headed to dinner at a small pub outside of Princeton. It was an LGBT bar, which was own and operated by Dylan Crandall, House’s friend. They ordered the usual, House loved their Rubin sandwiches, for he could order it dry without pickles. He’d been a picky eater all his life.

“Where’s Dylan?” House asked a waiter.

The waiter sighed. “Crandall is out picking Leona from NYU.”  

House resumed eating his sandwich. Meanwhile, Wilson ordered BLT. He was aware that Wilson was watching him. “What?”

“Is it just me or you looked handsome today; In your gray jeans and a rolling stones shirt? ” Wilson said, as he looked House over.

House rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, you like objectifying your spouse.” They ate the rest of their meal in comfortable silence. After dinner, they shared coffee crumble cake.

House wondered outside; while Wilson paid the bill. The diagnostician was deep in thought;  as the parking lot of Crandall’s.

Wilson halted his pace. “Greg? You alright?” Wilson knew not to worry about the pacing, it’s just stimming. House nodded, Wilson led him in their car.

Once in the comfort of the car, Wilson asked. What’s on your mind, You know you’re a bit distracted?”

House wanted to lie, but Wilson would deduce it out of him. “I overheard Cameron and Hadley talking about my birthday. Wilson could certainly guest the meaning of that statement. “Don’t talk to them. it’s my business, not yours.” Wilson nodded.

They drove back, while they were in the car headed home Wilson asked, “So, what do you want to do on your birthday?”

House sighed, “Monster jam. Then dinner and drinks with you.”

“Of course, your wish is my command,” Wilson said sardonically. He called. ‘Siri’ the car's assistant. “Are there any monster jam shows near Princeton on the eleventh?” House smiled. Siri answered with an affirmative. In Trenton, five o’clock. Wilson booked two tickets.

House didn’t like surprises because he knew needed for what to expect. Wilson always asked him what he wanted to do on his birthday or what he wanted for Christmas.

They arrived home. As soon as House was inside, he kicked his Nike’s AirMax 90’s and went to his piano. While Wilson went to the study to work on House’s infectious disease speech.

***

The next morning while Wilson was working on paperwork, n there was a knock on the door. It was Cameron and Hadley. Wilson had the urge to roll his eyes.

“Dr. Wilson?” Cameron said.

“What can I do for you, lovely ladies?” Wilson said sardonically.

Cameron looked at Hadley, urging her to speak.  “Its House’s birthday next week,” Hadley said. “And we want to surprise him.”

The woman looked at him strangely. “Why?” Hadley asked.

Wilson sighed again. “He doesn’t like surprises.” Cameron quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t go behind his back,” Wilson warned.

Wilson quirked a brow. “Who are ‘we’?”

It was Cameron who said. “Just the two of us, Foreman doesn’t want to be bothered, and Chase said no right away.”

Wilson sighed. Chase knew that House was autistic; House had informed him because he had a meltdown in front of Chase that first year. He told Chase that House hated birthdays. “Please, don’t bother him, girls.”

The women looked at him strangely. “Why?” Hadley asked.

Wilson sighed again. “He doesn’t like surprises.” Cameron quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t go behind his back,” Wilson warned.

“I don’t understand, Dr. Wilson; House hated surprises?” Cameron asked, fishing now.

Wilson peered the outside his office into House’s. “Cameron—“ He halted when he saw House. Cameron and Hadley peaked at the balcony door. House was pacing and muttering on his side of the balcony. “Cameron, Please, don’t surprise him, now shoo.”

The moment Cameron and Hadley left, Wilson went outside to speak with his partner. “Greg? Everything alright?” Wilson asked, preventing House’s pace. House halted; he fished out a paper from his pocket. “Clinic schedule?”

House nodded. “Yeah, Cuddy came earlier, telling me since I would be leaving in a week and a half, I should just work in the clinic. Yeah, that would work.” The last part was said with his bitter sarcasm.

Wilson knew how much House hated the clinic, and his apprehension wasn’t because it was boring. His spouse was reminded of how inadequate he was when dealing with people. “Well, what do you want to do?”

House sighed. “You know, I hate clinic duty, help me with it, Jimmy.”

Wilson smiled. “Yeah, I’ll talk with Cuddy. You have a case?” House nodded.

*** On the eleventh, Wilson woke House up with his guitar, “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday, dear Greg. Happy birthday to you.” He sang and played the familiar song of greeting.

This was not a surprise for House, who the past 10 years of being together, and six years of marriage;  Wilson always did that for him. “Thank you.” He said automatically.

“I got you something,” Wilson said, handing House a package wrap in blue wrapping paper. “Well, I brought you that cause you might want to play;  while we were on the road.”

House opened the present with gusto. As soon as the gift was opened, he smiled. It was a Martin LX1 travel-size acoustic guitar. “Thank you, Jimmy. I love it, really.” His smile touched his blue eyes.

For someone who hated surprises, the genuine smile was huge. “I made you, your favorite food macadamia nut pancake, go to the breakfast bar before you play your new toy.”

House nodded and left their bedroom with his guitar on his left hand. He sat opposite Wilson on the breakfast bar, they ate in contented silence. After the meal, they went shower.

Wilson had an appointment today in another hospital. Afterward, he and House would be going to Trenton to watch a monster truck rally and dinner at Rafael’s; House’s favorite sit down place.

Wilson drove House to work.

*** House went to his office; after Wilson drop him off at the main entryway to the hospital. He stood near the edge of Wilson and his office’s. Cameron and Hadley were discussing inside; There was a medium-sized box, on top was a chocolate cake.  He finally entered his office.

As soon as he was inside, the two ladies got to their feet and began singing the birthday song. House nearly put his hand in his ear.  The sound greeted on his nerves, like nails in a chalkboard. Unlike Wilson’s tone,  gentle and soothing,  theirs was a little high pitch.

He didn’t saw Chase entered. “Stop it, guys!” He heard Chase yelled, “Look at him. You’re overwhelming him.”

Cameron and Hadley looked at Chase and at House. “What do you know?” Cameron asked, looking at House.

Chase started to speak, however, House had beaten him to it. “I have a sensory processing disorder.” “SPD?” Cameron asked. “That condition is associated with Autism.” House practically saw as the cogs turned in her head.

House ran from his office to the clinic to accomplish his duties, four hours in hell. He texted Wilson. ‘Cameron’s brilliant idea pushed through; I thought you  informed them.’

Then his phone rang,  It was his father. He should turn off his phone. The patient a four-year-old kid with pink eye asked, “Dr. Greg, what’s wrong?”

He loved working with children when the parent wasn’t being insufferable idiots; thinking that their child had ebola if they have simple flu. He answered matter of factly. “My father is bugging me.” His tone invited no questions.

After spending his time in the clinic House went up to his office. A package was laying on his desk. “To House, from Robert Chase,’ it read. House opened it. It was a yoyo, fidget cube and a weighted blanket. He smiled a bit. He won’t thank Chase,  not his style, but he could buy him a lollipop.

At five Wilson entered House’s office. “Hi,” Wilson said shyly.

“Oh, hi,” House said putting his things in his blue backpack; and changing from his lab coat into his jean jacket. “Let’s go!” He said walking to Wilson and giving his spouse a kiss on the lips. “How was your day?” House asked while they walked to their car.

“Boring.”

They headed to watch the monster truck show. While there, Wilson watched House; he looked happy, peaceful even. When his favorite truck came, Gravedigger; House almost squealed in glee. Wilson smiled; He was happy to see Greg happy.

After the show, House and Wilson ate at Rafael’s.

End of Chapter 2

[disabled-queen-hc-blog]

The Four Times John Had Something to Say but Couldn’t Find His Own Words

I decided to give myself a prompt because I can!! >:) So here’s a Joger fic with a disney scripting Deacy. In order, Kiss the Girl - Little Mermaid, Reflection - Mulan, Baby Mine - Dumbo, and A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Cinderella 

There were hundreds of stars in the sky right now. Maybe millions. Tiny specs of light peeking through the veil of navy space. Twinkling and shuddering, fading and glowing. 

It was a sight John could drink in forever. A view that sent his mind wandering, a little traveler through plumes of dust and horizons on black holes. Gorgeous. Simply so.

And what made it better was that Roger was next to him, taking in the majesty of the heavens alongside him. Splayed on on the roof of John’s house, cuddled together under the blanket of light, they laid there, watching, never saying much. 

John pointed at a star that shone red, perhaps a planet that Brian said were sometimes visible throughout the year, although he couldn’t be sure. He looked over at Roger to see if his boyfriend was seeing what he was, but he was met with a pair of piercing blue eyes watching him intently.

A blush rose in his cheeks, wondering how long Roger had been oogling at him. He bit his lip, staring back, hoping he could make Roger feel as giddy with his eyes as Roger had made him feel with his.

There those two lovestruck guys were, on a roof, bathed in moonlight, wind blowing through their hair. Perfect for a kiss, right? At least John thought so. And maybe Roger did too, but he seemed hesitant, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. 

“Look at the boy too shy. He ain’t gonna kiss the girl. Ain’t that sad? Ain’t it shame? Too bad you gonna miss the girl.” John sang softly, a small smile on his mouth. One grew on Roger’s too, the oh so familiar Disney song being sung to him by an impatient John. 

“Oh you,” Roger pretended to grip before he leaned over, holding onto John’s chin with his thumb and forefinger, pulling him into a kiss.

John made happy noises, his eye crinkles coming out.

♚

John looked down at his hands. They were quite big for his arms and the finger tips calloused from thick bass strings. 

He knew these hands very well. He saw them everyday and used them to make music with his friends. 

He looked down at his feet, only clad in some ratty socks. They were actually small for someone of his stature, but nonetheless his.

He wriggled his toes. Rolled onto the balls of his feet and back. These were the feet that carried him everywhere. Fun places like Japan and scary places like doctors offices. 

Then he looked straight ahead at the mirror he’d been avoiding in his bathroom. 

There was a face before him that mimicked his every move, but it didn’t feel like him. Sleepy steel grey eyes blinked and pouty lips moved but he didn’t think it was him. 

He touched one of the moles on his face and his reflection touched it too. He tossed his wavy hair over his shoulder and the mirror copied. 

He didn’t like it. It didn’t make sense. 

He touched his chest, his ribs poked out. John lived there, he’d say if asked. In his heart. Every experience and laugh and cry came from there. Not..that.

He touched the glass where his face was, not recognizing the stranger before him.

That wasn’t him.

Never felt like him.

And to think that’s all the world ever saw and digest. That person in the mirror. That vessel he had limited control of.

He didn’t like it.

“Why is my reflection someone I dont know. Some how I can not hide who I am, though I've tried. When will my reflection show who I am inside?” he whispered to himself, his finger pads tracing his chin on the mirror.

He didn’t leave his bathroom that night.

♚

The front of Roger’s shirt was soaked. Not from a spilled drink or sudden rain, but from how hard and long he’d been crying. 

John came home, the first sound he was greeted with being throat splitting cries. He knew it was Roger because Roger never did anything halfway. If he was going to cry, it was going to be loud and ugly. 

Panic set into his bones, throwing everything he had in his arms onto the floor and running into their shared room. 

Roger was on the bed, sitting at an edge, feet tucked under himself, arms wrapped around his middle. His whole face was red and splotchy, especially his eyes which when they peered up to look at John, shattered his heart.

John rushed in, picking up the broken Roger in his arms and holding him close. He wasn’t very fond of touch most times, but it wasn’t about him right now. 

Roger’s head fell into the crook of his neck, his fiery hot cheeks and warm tears pressing against his skin uncomfortably. His ear splitting sobs dampened into sniffles and hiccups, his whole frame still shaking. 

“What happened?” John asked, knowing that people usually cried for reasons. Roger was probably upset over something. 

Roger licked his salty lips, making himself as tiny as possible on John’s lap, pressing into John’s flesh with everything he had. As if he wanted to disappear into his boyfriend, the only safe place he knew in this world. John continued to hold him steadfast, patient in waiting for an answer.

“Was s-stimming in a cafe. Too loud maybe. Owner c-called me a spaz. Got kicked out,” Roger stuttered out, voice shaking harder than he was.

John nodded, his stomach feeling heavy. He knew that all to well. 

And there was so much he wanted to tell Roger. Every positive thing he could muster. But his brain was a little frazzled from all of this. He settled for something easily digestible and something that would be what Roger needed to hear.

“All those same people who scold you,what they'd give just for the right to hold you. From your head to your toes you're so sweet, goodness knows. You are so precious to me. Sweet as can be, baby of mine,” he cooed barely above a whisper into Roger’s ear, rocking them both gently, the bed creaking with every move.

“Baby mine, don't you cry. Baby mine, dry your eyes. Rest your head close to my heart. Never to part, baby of mine,”

“Don't you mind what they say. Let those eyes sparkle and shine. Never a tear, baby of mine,”

“Baby mine, Baby mine,”

♚

John was idly plucking at his bass, listening to the cacophony around him. Brian was tuning his guitar, Roger smashing at the cymbals and Freddie yelling (his way of warming up, or so he says).

He looked up from the shiny black paint of his bass, eyes scanning the room, staring intently at every familiar face before moving on to the next one, the feeling of sunshines growing in his chest. 

John never really had friends. In school, he was always alone, not by choice but by forced exclusion from his peers. He was weird and awkward and that was enough for everyone to avoid him like the plague for those 16 years.

The thing was, he really wanted friends. He wanted what he saw all around him. Hand holding and whispering and giggling and playing tag and shared looks and- all of it. He craved it so badly. But it was never allowed to him. 

Instead he was forced to watch from the sidelines, having only himself to confide in.

Those were miserable years. A dark time in his life he didn’t like to think of.

University wasn’t all that different, but at least the bullying and teasing stopped.

But it wasn’t until the package of Queen fell into his life that his days began to look more yellow, more happy.

He found a group of friends that he finally belonged to. Friends that loved him for who he was, never asking him to change, never ashamed of how he acted and talked.

He had friends to tell secrets to and share stories with. He had a group of friends just like the ones in his day and night dreams. The kind of friends he spent years praying would find him. 

And they were right there, right now, fiddling around, content in his presence just as much as he was theirs. 

Freddie, his protector, was plugging in his mic, tapping the head of it to see if it all worked. His eyes connected with John, flashing him a sweet toothy grin before continuing with whatever he was doing.

Brian, his older brother, was strumming Red Special, head leaning down to get a better listen of the finally tuned strings. He caught John staring and laughed quietly, head shaking. 

And Roger, his friend turned lover, was inspecting a drumstick for cracks or splinters when he felt a pair of eyes on him. He looked up and immediately his shoulders straightened, a obnoxious and goofy smile spreading on his lips. 

People say dreams are childish and never come true but John wasn’t sure of that anymore.

“Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through. No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true,” John said with a lilt in his voice, as if he couldn’t decide between speaking or singing what he felt.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to listen, knowing John was communicating and not just singing for fun. 

Every expression softened, a pink dusting over Roger’s cheeks. 

“Are you happy, darling?” Freddie asked, a smile in his voice.

John nodded, continuing, feeling sparklers in his tummy when Freddie joined him.

“A dream is a wish your heart makes when you're fast asleep. In dreams you will lose your heartaches. Whatever you wish for, you keep,”

[dearlybeelovedreadingroom]

a piece for @starblazer124, who sent me a prompt: “I was wondering how Sidon would react to his autistic s/o stimming in front of them when they're happy. I wiggle and flap around...”

This will probably be short, but I hope you (and everyone who feels it applies to them, or needs it) enjoy it!

You ran down the path from the reservoir, excited near to bursting and rehearsing how you were going to say why exactly it was that you were so excited. You’d found something cool at the edge of the water at the reservoir, and you were rushing back to find Sidon to tell him all about it. 

What luck, you had found him, and you were gearing up to tell the story-- “I was just sitting there,” you said, “kicking my feet in the water because I like how it feels, and that was when I saw it, a beautiful fish. It was bright orange, Sidon, I wish you could have seen it.”

“I wish I could have, too,” he said, smiling. “It seems to have gotten you quite excited.”

That was when you looked down at your hands, flapping at the end of your arms like flags in a stiff breeze. You looked at them, crestfallen, and slowly, you stopped, putting your hands down at your sides to fiddle with a string on your clothes. “...yeah. I’m sorry.”

Sidon took your hands in his then, bringing them to about your chin level (not even chest-height for him!) and looked deep into your eyes, with a soft yet serious gaze. He almost looked... upset. “Dearest, you need never apologize for the little habits you have that signal your utmost excitement with the things you experience in the Domain.” He squeezed your hands. “I find it endearing, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of or sorry for.”

You nodded, looking away. “All right.”

He smiled again. “Would you take me to the spot where you saw that fish? I want to see if I can find it, if it’s still there.”

You grinned. “Sure!”

You were back at the reservoir, but now you were seated next to Sidon, who was laying on his stomach on the dock, one hand in the water, drawing little circles you could see by the ripple pattern that followed his hand, and eyes fixed on the water.  Every so often, something tapped your arm. Assuming it was bugs known to hang out near water,  you brushed your arm and paid it very little mind, until whatever it was rubbed against you enough to make you look at it-- it wasn’t a bug. Sidon’s caudal fin was twitching as he watched the water, and it was moving so much, it was hitting your arm. 

Gently, you reached out and steadied it on his back, until he turned to look at you. 

He blushed. “See, I must have been excited myself. We’re much more alike than you think, my love.”