Hello! You can call me Noodle. I have Fox to thank for that nickname.
If you know why @bear-owo and @mentallyillanimal deactivated their accounts, I would appreciate being told.
If you live in the U.S.A. and are eligible to vote, for the love of god please grit your teeth and vote for Biden. Please. None of us can handle the wrinkly Cheeto any longer.
About Me
I am nonbinary and neptunic (or lesbian, if that makes more sense, though I’m also likely some flavor of aro/ace?), and go by he/they pronouns. Though, frankly, anything other than she/her pronouns are fine with me.
I am white, trilingual (Portuguese, Spanish, and English), and from Brazil. 🇧🇷 Oi, gente!
I am also autistic, and have *breathes in dramatically* social anxiety disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, major depressive disorder, obsessive-compulsive disorder, trichotillomania, dermatillomania, and maladaptive daydreaming issues (it isn’t officially a disorder yet). I am able-bodied and have relatively low support needs.
As you may be able to tell, I don’t really have that good of a sense of what is and isn’t private, so I’ll probably answer any questions you may have! Ask away if you feel like it!
My special interests are: snakes, atypical psychology, Greek mythology, and Egyptian mythology. I also like horror as a genre, as well as art in general.
Some more specific things I like, though, include The Owl House, Extraordinary Attorney Woo, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Five Nights At Freddy’s, Heartbreak High, Heartstopper, Young Royals, Gravity Falls, Red, White, And Royal Blue, Nimona, Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, Melanie Martinez, Sub Urban, Jack Stauber, and Evelyn Evelyn. Feel free to rant to me about any of these!
Warnings
Since I am autistic, I struggle with social interactions and understanding things. I would appreciate patience.
If I make mistakes, please tell me! Also, I swear I am pretty much never trying to be rude, offensive, or insulting, even if it seems that way. If I say something wrong/bigoted/misleading, please let me know! If my blog isn’t accessible, please let me know how I can improve it (I try to include image descriptions on most of my own images, though unfortunately I struggle with adding them to others’). This is meant to be a safe space. :D
Interactions
I love interacting with folks on here! If you ever want to send me a message, or an ask, or a vent, feel free to do so!
I reblog, like… a lot.
I swear occasionally. Not that often, though.
I don’t technically have much of a tagging system, though I do tag posts that involve someone needing help with “help help help” and asks with “ask ask ask ask”.
Terminology Stuff
To avoid misunderstandings, this is how I use certain terms (and honestly, the only ways they should be used):
Nonspeaking - Not able to reliably communicate through speech (long-term).
Nonverbal - Not able to reliably communicate through words (long-term). I know some people who cannot speak use this term, though, and I will respect their preferences.
Important post about this: https://www.tumblr.com/five-thousand-loaves-of-bread/712714609459593216/my-frustration-with-going-nonverbalnonspeaking
Delusion - A clinically recognisable belief held by an individual who cannot be convinced otherwise, even though the belief is objectively false.
Psychotic - Experiencing psychosis: experiencing things disconnected from reality on a clinical level.
Psychopath - Someone who has Anti-Social Personality Disorder (complex history, though).
Narcissist - Someone who has Narcissistic Personality Disorder.
Do Not Interact List
I don’t really have a DNI list. Just like. Don’t be mean? If you send me something mean, I will likely not be significantly bothered by it.
I am not trying to start fights. If you are trying to start a fight, and not a genuine discussion, please leave.
I do not tolerate hate against my mutuals of any kind. If you are mean to them, respectfully, please get out.
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"Hey, baby," Tommy's voice carries through the apartment, "have you seen my shirt?"
Buck's standing in Tommy's bedroom, pulling said shirt over his head and ready to reply that yes, he has in fact seen his shirt and no, Tommy can't have it because Buck's already wearing it, when he pauses. Baby. That's- that's new.
It's just a word. It shouldn't make Buck's heart speed up or fill his belly with far too many butterflies for it to count as healthy.
Baby.
He closes his eyes and lets the word, that tiny little four letter word, echoe in his head. The memory of Tommy's voice repeating it over and over again, until it eventually ends up in Buck's own mouth before falling out as nothing more than a soft whisper.
"Are you okay?"
Buck blinks his eyes open, mouth still open around the word, and when he is met with a half-naked Tommy who is looking at him with a bemused expression, he all but melts.
"You, uh, you called me baby." Buck offers, as if that's an answer to Tommy's question. Maybe it is. "You've never- you haven't called me that before."
Tommy's face softens at that, his eyes dropping down to Buck's chest before finding his eyes again, eyes sparkling. He steps closer, until he can reach out and grip Buck's waist, the warmth of his hands noticeable even through two layers of fabric. Buck's own hands find their way to Tommy's arms, slowly sliding up until they rest at the soft curve of his neck, thumbs barely brushing the underside of his jaw.
"Well, you are my baby," Tommy says then, matter of factly, gently pulling Buck closer. "Aren't you?"
"Y-yeah?" Buck swallows, eyes dropping down to Tommy's lips for a moment. "I- yeah, I-I am?"
"You are."
Tommy just... looks at him, eyes so incredibly fond that Buck can barely breathe with it, before leaning in to press a soft kiss onto Buck's lips. He doesn't protest too much or at all, actually, when Buck immediately deepens it. Eventually, though, Tommy pulls away, panting just enough for Buck to feel a bit proud in a I did that to him kind of way.
"I'm really your baby, huh."
"Very much so," Tommy hums, one hand leaving Buck's waist to over his belly, up his chest, and then down again. Buck wonders, for a moment, if they're going to be late for work, which- he wouldn't be opposed to that. But Tommy simply pinches the loose fabric of the sweater, pulls at it a little, and says, "you're a thief, too."
Buck opens his mouth to protest, but Tommy just gives him a look then, as if to say try me. A smile is tugging at the corner of his mouth, though, and his free hand gives Buck's waist a small squeeze.
"I mean," Buck starts, heart pounding in his chest. "What's yours is mine, right, babe?"
"Babe, huh?"
"Darling?" Buck tries, knows he probably looks like a fool from how big he's grinning. "Sugarbuns? Pookie? Hot stuff?"
Tommy kisses him then, and Buck lets himself get lost in it again. When one of his hands slips down from Tommy's neck, Tommy's quick to reach up and take hold of it, pressing it against his own chest. He presses another kiss onto Buck's lips, hot and searing, as if he's pouring his entire being into it. When he breaks away, he doesn't go far, his forehead resting against Buck's. They stand like that for a moment, breathing each other in.
"You're still a thief, though," Tommy says eventually, voice low and rough, as he taps his fingertip against the back of Buck's hand where it rests just above his heart, and Buck wonders of Tommy's still talking about the shirt when he whispers, "you can keep it."
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