If you do not have your age/age range in your bio and you interact, I will block you
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Hey guys! Some of you may not know me from a hole in the wall, but, while it’s been a while since I was all that active on the blue hellsite, some of you may know me from there as All Time No, and my pronouns are she/they. Y’all can call me ATN or whatever you want as long as you’re respectful!
(This is a kink blog, so if that’s not your thing that’s okay! Just ignore it or block and keep scrolling if you don’t have anything nice to say 😊)
Now onto organizing the chaos that is my blog!
I use a lot of random tags that I make up as I go, but here are the ones that actually mean something!
(I can’t get the link to work with the tags for some reason, so until I fix that, all tags will be in this post’s tags as well)
#ATNwavs
#ATNwrites
#ATNyaps
#askATN
#ATNoc
Blog Guidelines are as follows:
I will NOT tolerate hate speech or bigotry of any kind
Said at the beginning of the post, but repeating here because of just how damn important this one is: DO NOT INTERACT if you are under the age of 18!!! This is for both your safety and my own
Again, please DO NOT REBLOG to non-kink blogs! Even if the post content itself isn’t snz. Vanilla blogs can like and come hang/lurk as long as their likes are private
I’m open to chatting with anyone, but please do keep the conversations respectful. I’m on here to make friends who share a similar interest, but kink is also very personal. So maybe don’t open asking snz related questions or giving obs or telling me about your snz? Let’s get to know each other! Make friends!
I love to rp! I mostly rp OCs at this point in time, and my comfort zone at the moment is either modern day or mild fantasy/scifi settings with a romance plot, but I’ve been thinking about dipping my toe into DabiHawks rp if that strikes anyone’s fancy. DM me!
Now that the important stuff is out of the way, the About Me is under the cut for anyone interested ~~~~v
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About Me!
I am 27 years old, from the southeastern US (though hopefully I will be moving soon lol)
I’ll mostly use this blog for reblogging or posting snz thoughts, but I’ve gotten back into writing recently so I’m planning on posting fics every so often if I can make myself stick with it
Currently my fandom is bnha/mha and my main obsession is DabiHawks, but I may also branch out and write some of my other ships like BakuDeku, TodoBaku, KiriBaku, and TsukoRoki (don’t judge me), some of my OC works, or even scenes from an rp or two I’m involved in if I get consent from my partners
I am technically back in the Questioning stage of queer life, but the important info is that I’m attracted to men, women, folks who flow between the two like water, everybody. I also have a strong suspicion I fall somewhere under the ace umbrella 🤷♀️
Like a few others I’ve seen around these parts, I am disabled. I’m a POTS girlie
I’ve got 2 dogs, and they are the best parts of my day. I love to brag on them 🥰
Max endures an early morning phone call with a feverish teammate
Uhhh set in Chicago, soccer boys… I think that’s all y’all will need to know for this one?
CW: incredible stupidity, cold sneezes, mentions of arrest
can a 4yo be sent to juvie
Max blinks.
Another message comes through before he can finish processing the question.
or is there a minimum age requirement
hypothetically speaking
if they were to commit a crime
would they need a lawyer?
And... okay, what?? It's 7am on a Tuesday. He is in no way prepared for... whatever this is before coffee.
Brow furrowed, Max blearily presses the button to start the machine and stares at his teammate's texts, not sure whether to laugh or call an ambulance as he tries to figure out if Luca is losing it. A snort gets caught in his throat as his phone buzzes one more time (a, “times of the essence here m8” that earns him an immediate eye roll) and he taps the call icon before the defender has the chance to text him again.
"Do I need to drag you in for a psych eval or something, Oliveira? What the hell's going on?" Max can't help but tease as soon as the dial tone breaks into silence.
"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up." There's a rough, almost strained quality to his voice that Max can't quite place. "Me kid’s tried to kill me, and I don't want her going to prison. Your roommate does criminology."
Max hears the catch at the end of the word and barely pulls the phone away from his ear before there's a sharp intake of breath and a harsh hH'itzsSCHhh! echoes down the line. The sniff that follows is so audibly congested it makes Max wince even as the missing pieces of this very confusing morning finally slot into place.
"Figured you'd be best to ask."
He says it like it makes perfect sense. Like this entire interaction has been completely normal.
"Salud." He's unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. "So, what? Harley brought a cold home from daycare and now you want me to ask my roommate if you need to worry about keeping your toddler out of prison?" His shoulders tremble with silent laughter. "... For attempted murder?"
Luca's irritated sigh crackles through the line, and Max's lips twitch again as he puts the phone on speaker and pulls out the ingredients to start on the breakfast he'd been intending to make before he'd been blindsided.
"Brought home a cold, he says." Max tries not to laugh. He fails, the sound breaking through in the form of an unattractive snort as Luca's voice dips into a croaky, poor imitation of the striker's accent. "You're joking! Not a cold, the bloody plague. Mate, I'm telling you, I can see the light. "
A handful of diced tomatoes land in the pan, and the clatter of the cutting board being dropped into the sink masks the breath he takes to avoid laughing at his friend outright as he rolls his eyes. Max waits, fingers tapping the counter in time with three drenching sneezes, and wrinkles his nose at the disgusting, gurgling quality of the noseblow that follows.
"Salud, dinero, amor."
Jesus, he really does sound awful.
"Nnd... sorry. So, gonna ask for us?"
"What? Dude, no. A cold isn't-"
"Plague."
"Whatever it is, I really don't think legal repercussions are something you've got to worry about here. You know, on account of she's four, and I sincerely doubt anybody is going to pursue an arrest of anybody over some normal household contagion. It’s a cold, not a felony."
He pauses to crack a few eggs into the pan and tosses the shells into the trash. "Besides, Lucs, the chances of you dying of the flu are beyond slim."
hH! hhH? heh-ehhh... hH'iTZSCHhh'uu!
"Salud."
A soft groan and another round of soupy sniffles sound over the line.
hhEH'tsSCHhhiew! "Guh... Says you. Gonna make sure Coach hits you with a proper 'I told you so' at me funeral- hH!"
hH'dztschh'eh!
A bright laugh bubbles up from Max's chest unbidden, and he gives a placating hum. "Bless you, bless you. I'm sure you will, and then I'll feel very guilty and regret not listening to you. Blah, blah, blah. But I'm still not bothering Jonah with a question that stupid."
Luca's only answer is a sneeze that just sounds indignant, like it's trying to prove the centreback's point for him.
"Bless you, sneezy." Max shakes his head with a fond huff. "Seriously though, man. No offense, but you sound like shit. You okay?"
Another cringe-inducing sniffle crackles through the line, and he hears him clear his throat. "Yeah, fine. Not gonna make training today, though."
Max hums, tossing two slices of bread into the toaster. Idle fingers swipe a few crumbs off of the counter as he steps back over to the stove and chuckles, the smell of coffee slowly filling the kitchen.
"Yeah, no shit, dude. You need anything? I can stop by the pharmacy before practice. Take Harley for a bit, let her watch drills if you need to rest?"
But Luca is already grunting in protest before he's even finished speaking.
"No, I'll be right. She's napping."
A muffled fit of coughs breaks through, sounding like they hurt. Real convincing, man. But pushing the issue has never gotten anybody anywhere with Luciano Oliveira, so Max only hums.
"Alright. Well, text if you change your mind, dude. You know none of us would mind stopping for you. I'll tell Coach you won't be in for a few days."
Luca only grunts, a vocalization Max has long since learned to read enough to pick up on the embarrassed gratitude behind the sound, and sneezes again.
"Salud. Go get some rest, Luca. And feel better, okay man?"
There's a pause filled with snuffling, and Max can practically see the way he's knuckling at his nose hard enough to rub it raw— something the whole team’s gotten used to witnessing every spring. He can even hear the congestion clicking faintly over the line before it fades into a sigh.
"Yeah. Might do. Cheers, mate."
Max makes a mental note to grab the cold meds and backup box of tissues from his spare closet when he leaves for the field later. Luca may have said he didn't need any help, but he thinks he knows the man well enough by now to recognize that he would benefit from a fever reducer at the very least.
The call ends, phone forgotten as his attention returns to omelet making. "Alright, beautiful. Just you and me now." He picks up his spatula with a grin and flips the egg.
