Hello, I go by Nidiot or Nid. 32+ she/they pansexual demiromantic. I post/reblog random text posts that interest me, bands/music, animals, food, some R18 things (that will be tagged as such if I remember), that weaboo shit, and anything else I like. Minors pls DNI with me. I am a gremlin and have no time for your shit. And yes, I have bills I pay and a job. Does that stop me from being fandom trash that likes problematic content?? NO! Pls enjoy my trash heap. Known as âMama Nidiotâ @theotakulifechoseme. If you wanna ask me anything, then feel free to do so.
Figured Iâd do an intro thing cause Iâm seeing new followers and some of them are sus...
Yâall can call me Nidiot or Nid. I go by Mama Nidiot on my side blog @theotakulifechoseme âcause Iâm the main mod. Also, I write shit over there, so check it out, maybe?
I mainly post my fanfics on AO3 under the username AmericanNidiot.
No, the username is NOT a Green Day reference. I legit forgot they existed when I came up with the username. It is actually a very roundabout reference to HIM/Ville Valo from an old YouTube video where he and Bam were drunk and one of them slurred idiot into nidiot, and I just happen to be American; hence AmericanNidiot.
Born in 1994, so for the love of FUCK, MINORS, DNI WITH ME!!! I AM OLD ENOUGH TO BE MOST OF YâALLâS MOM!
Meaning I've turned 32 in the year of 2026
Iâm on the spectrum, so if I donât get something or my tone comes across the wrong way, please let me know.
Cis Female, but idc if you use they/them pronouns with me on top of she/her.
I have a normal job, and I pay bills and file my taxes. Donât try and come at me with that weird ass own if you happen to see something on my blog that you disagree with; ESPECIALLY if it is about FICTIONAL CHARACTERS.
I like certain problematic themes in fics, just deal with it. Iâm not condoning it IRL, but fiction is a different story.
Donât tell me how to run my blog unless it is to politely ask me to tag something âcause itâs on your block list. I apologize for that, and Iâll keep it in mind, especially if weâre moots.
Iâm Queer and Weird.
If you made it this far, maybe follow me on Twitch? I mainly play story-driven games, with the occasional IRL stream. You can find me under the name of AmericanNidiot on Twitch and YouTube.
Speaking of, I take small audio commissions for alerts and the like in an UwU/Little voice if youâre interested.
My woke take, as someone who has worked in both a public library and a school library, is that we desperately need both more books that are at a higher reading level but a less mature subject matter, and more books that are at a lower reading level but a more mature subject matter, because 8 year olds who are advanced readers are still 8 year olds and don't want to read about graphic violence and torture, and teens and adults who have learning difficulties or who are just later readers for whatever reason are still teens and adults and don't want to read about Billy the Bunny going to school or whatever the hell.
synopsis:: you and Bakugo were never close in school. just classmates who ended up in the same friend group by accident and stayed there out of habit. eight years later he's one of the top heroes with a mouth on him and you're the unbothered ex-classmate who somehow still doesn't know he's been in love with you since UA. His friends know. His mom knows. Everyone knows. You do not. This is Bakugo's guideâ written badly on the back of a receipt at 2amâ to finally doing something about it.
yellow and pink divs edited by me. base here if you'd like to make your own ⥠layout inspired by my goat @6x-x9
You were never the loud one in the friend group. That was never your job. Kirishima was loud. Bakugo was louder. You were the one who sat back and watched everyone lose their minds over something small and just â didn't. Calm under pressure. Unshakeable in a way that used to annoy Bakugo in high school and now just makes him feel like he's losing a fight he never agreed to start.
Eight years out of UA and somehow you're still around. Still in the group chat. Still showing up to Kirishima's birthday parties and Sero's terrible karaoke nights. Still completely unaware that Katsuki Bakugo â the number five hero, walking explosion, a man who has never once backed down from anything in his life â has been quietly losing his mind over you since roughly your second year of school.
Everyone else figured it out years ago. Kirishima figured it out first, mostly because Bakugo made the mistake of getting drunk at his own agency's holiday party and saying your name four times in one sentence. Mina figured it out next. Even Todoroki figured it out, which says a lot, because Todoroki barely notices when buildings are on fire.
You did not figure it out. You are, according to every single person in that group chat, the last person on earth who has no idea.
So one night Bakugo sat down with a receipt from a ramen place and a pen that was almost out of ink and wrote himself a list. Not because he needed help â he would tell you he did not need help â but because eight years of doing nothing had clearly not worked and something had to change.
Here's what he came up with.
Rule #1: Don't call her pretty. That's weak. She'll see right through it.
You've been called pretty before. Plenty of times. It rolls off you like water because it means nothing coming from strangers. So the first time Bakugo actually looks at you â really looks, across a table at a group dinner while everyone else is arguing about something stupid â he doesn't say pretty. He says your hair looks stupid pushed back like that and it takes you a full three seconds to realize that's the nicest thing he's said to anyone all night.Kirishima kicks him under the table. Bakugo kicks back harder.
Rule #2: Don't let her see you get soft. Save that for when nobody's watching
You broke your wrist on a mission six months ago and Bakugo showed up at the hospital before your own agency finished the paperwork. He didn't say much. He sat in the corner with his arms crossed and glared at every nurse who walked past like they'd personally wronged him. You thanked him for coming. He said he was in the area. He was not in the area. He is never in your area.
Rule #3: If she teases you don't react. Reacting means she wins.
You have exactly one move against Bakugo and it works every time. You call him Kacchan in that flat unbothered voice of yours, the one that makes it sound like an insult and a joke at once, and he goes red before he can stop it. He tells you to shut up. You don't. He never actually wants you to.
Rule #4: Don't stare. Staring is for losers who can't say what they mean.
He stares anyway. Across bars. Across meeting rooms when your agencies do joint operations. Across the space between his couch and yours when the whole group crashes at his place after a night out and you fall asleep first, curled up small and unbothered like the world isn't currently on fire somewhere. He tells himself he's just checking you're breathing. He checks for a very long time.
Rule #5: If she steals your jacket let her keep it. Don't be a bitch about it.
It was cold outside a bar in October and you didn't bring one. He took his off without being asked and put it around your shoulders before you could even shiver a second time. You tried to give it back at the end of the night. He told you to keep it, said something about not needing two jackets anyway, which made no sense, and walked off before you could argue. You still have it. He knows you still have it. Neither of you has ever mentioned it again.
Rule #6: Don't get jealous. Jealous is for weak men.
A guy from a rival agency spent an entire mixer talking to you last spring and Bakugo spent that same mixer setting three separate small fires with his quirk completely by accident, according to him. Kirishima said it wasn't an accident. Bakugo told Kirishima to shut the hell up in front of everyone, which everyone agreed was extremely on brand and extremely obvious.
Rule #7: If she's tired let her sleep on your shoulder. Don't make it weird.
You fell asleep on the train back from a joint mission once, head tipping slowly toward his shoulder like gravity had made a decision without asking you. He went completely still. Didn't move for forty minutes. Told everyone later he just didn't want to wake you up. That was true. It was also not the whole truth.
Rule #8: Compete with her. Don't let her win just because you like her. That's pathetic.
You beat him at darts once, at a bar, fair and square, and he demanded a rematch on the spot. You beat him again. He demanded a third round. By the fourth round he wasn't even trying to win anymore, just trying to make you laugh at his increasingly unhinged trash talk, and you were laughing too hard to notice you'd stopped keeping score.
Rule #9: Play it cool when she touches you. Don't be obvious.
You have a habit of grabbing his arm when you laugh too hard at something, quick and unthinking, gone in half a second. It means nothing to you. It means everything to him. He has thought about that half-second more times than he'd ever admit under torture.
Rule #10: If she's cold under the table don't offer your legs. That's insane. Nobody does that.
He does it anyway. It's a slow dinner, everyone's talking over each other, and your foot brushes his under the table by accident. You don't move it. Neither does he. What starts as an accident turns into something else entirely â your foot pressed lightly against his shin, his ankle hooked loosely around yours, both of you carrying on two separate conversations with the rest of the table like nothing is happening below it. He nearly chokes on his drink when your foot slides slow up his calf, just once, just to see what he'll do.
He does absolutely nothing. Which is how you know it worked.
Rule #11: Don't ask about her ex. That's weak and clingy behavior.
He asks anyway, once, badly, wrapped inside a completely unrelated sentence about something else entirely so it wouldn't sound like what it was. You answered honestly and briefly and didn't ask why he wanted to know. He spent the rest of that night in a genuinely foul mood that had nothing to do with the mission report he'd claimed was bothering him.
Rule #12: If she gets sick you're not worried. You're just making sure she doesn't die. There's a difference.
You caught something nasty last winter and didn't tell anyone because you hate being fussed over. Bakugo found out from Kirishima and showed up at your apartment within the hour with a bag of groceries he refused to let you see the receipt for. He made soup badly. He stayed anyway sitting stiffly on your couch like he'd rather be anywhere else until you fell asleep on his shoulder for the second time in your life. He didn't move again. This time you were awake enough at the end to notice and you didn't say anything either.
Rule #13: Don't remember small stuff about her. That's obsessive.
He remembers everything. Your coffee order. The exact way you take your eggs. The name of the street you grew up on mentioned once years ago in passing. He tells himself it's just a good memory. Kirishima tells him that's not what a good memory looks like for anyone else in the friend group.
Rule #14: Don't get quiet around her. Quiet means she'll know something's wrong.
He gets quiet anyway sometimes when it's just the two of you left at the end of a group hangout and everyone else has gone home. You've noticed. You've never asked. You've started noticing you kind of like the quiet too.
Rule #15: If she insults your cooking don't take it personal.
You told him once that his katsudon tasted like it was made out of spite. He told you to make it yourself then. You did. It was worse than his. He has never let you live that down and somehow still makes you a plate every single time you come over unasked like it's not a big deal.
Rule #16: Don't let her see the soft stuff. Like the notebook. She can never see the notebook.
There is in fact a notebook. Bakugo would deny this to his last breath. It is not a diary. It is a training log that occasionally accidentally includes things like *she laughed at something dumb I said today* written in the margins in handwriting too small for anyone to notice. Nobody has ever seen it. It stays that way.
Rule #17: Don't dance with her at Mina's stupid parties. Dancing is for saps.
He dances with you exactly once badly at Mina's birthday both of you a little drunk and laughing about how neither of you knows what you're doing. His hand sits low on your waist the entire song. Yours rests flat against his chest close enough to feel his heart going faster than the song's tempo would explain. Neither of you comments on it. Both of you notice.
Rule #18: If she calls you at 2am for no reason answer immediately. Don't overthink it.
You called once at 2am half-asleep just to complain about a case that was bothering you and needed someone to talk it out with. He picked up on the first ring even though he'd been dead asleep three seconds earlier. Talked you through it for forty minutes in a voice rougher than usual low and half-awake until you finally calmed down enough to sleep. Neither of you brought it up the next day. You both remembered it anyway.
Rule #19: Tell her the truth eventually. Stalling makes you look like a coward.
He almost doesn't. Eight years of almost. Eight years of jackets and soup and 2am phone calls and a notebook nobody's supposed to see all adding up to exactly nothing because Katsuki Bakugo â who has never once in his life backed down from a fight â has apparently decided this is the one fight not worth having.
Kirishima finally sits him down and tells him flatly that watching this has become genuinely embarrassing for everyone involved. That you deserve to actually know. That you're not going to figure it out on your own because you're the single most unbothered person either of them has ever met and unbothered people don't go looking for things they've never been told to look for.
Rule #20: Ask her out. Just say it. Stop being a coward about it
He shows up at your apartment on a random Tuesday with no plan and no speech prepared which is unlike him in every possible way. You open the door in an old shirt and no makeup unbothered as always and ask what's wrong like something must be wrong for him to be standing there.
"Nothing's wrong," he says and immediately looks like he regrets starting that way. "I just â " He stops. Starts again. "You're coming to dinner with me Friday. Not the group. Just you and me."
You blink at him. For the first time in eight years something in your carefully composed face actually slips just a fraction just enough for him to see it happen in real time.
"Is this a date Bakugo?"
"Obviously it's a date," he says too loud the way he gets when he's covering for something. "What else would it be. Are you always this slow or is it just with me?"
You don't answer right away. You just look at him for a long moment the unbothered mask cracking wider by the second and something like a smile starts pulling at the corner of your mouth.
"Friday," you say. "Pick me up at seven. And Katsukiâ"
"What."
"Wear the jacket back. I've had it long enough."
He goes red for the second time in eight years. Somewhere across town Kirishima's phone buzzes with a single text that just says *finally* and nothing else and every single person in that group chat already knows exactly what it means before he explains a word of it.
the place I work at remodeled these split gendered restrooms into âinclusive restroomsâ and never told us what they meant while construction was ongoing. I need you to know every atom of potential criticism or whining that couldâve happened disappeared when people found out this meant we got 10 fully separate private bathrooms with sinks inside. Iâve not heard a single person crack a joke about the inclusive signage. this is the world TERFs are trying to steal from you
This is called a "superloo" and terfs are actively trying to steal this from you, in the UK they changed bathroom regulations to mean new buildings have to prioritise gendered toilets rather than build superloos.
This also upset a lot of architects and designers who like the superloos. They're also typically more like small rooms rather than having doors you can look under.
I have a friend who was strongly against inclusive bathrooms because he felt that âbathroom stalls are already really exposed due to how theyâre constructed, so no wonder women donât want men in the same bathrooms as themâ and when I pointed out that we could just⊠build better bathrooms⊠with less exposed stalls, he got really quiet and then said âhonestly that sounds so much better, but there must be some problem with building them like that, because otherwise wouldnât we already be doing it?â BESTIE we are. WE ARE. Old-style bathrooms are cheaply made, poorly designed, and all around bad. Havenât you noticed that menâs restrooms rooms get weirdly sticky? Havenât you noticed that womenâs restrooms end up with giant lines? This is because these rooms are architecturally awful. And we can do better now, because we know more! And we are!!! People are actively designing better bathrooms that address known problems, and guess what: those bathrooms are âinclusiveâ in the same way that curb-cuts are inclusive. It doesnât matter if the ramp was built for a wheelchair or a stroller; it doesnât matter if the bathrooms were designed specifically for gender inclusivity or just because fall-apart-if-you-sneeze-on-them metal stall dividers with giant ass peek gaps suck. We can in fact improve our built environment to better meet our needs. Stop cutting off your nose to spite your face; stop settling for less just because someone else might also enjoy it.
Seattle's SEA-TAC airport has an all gender restroom that's a row of about a dozen fully enclosed separated little rooms that lock, with a shared bank of sinks and it's great. Love it. Lot of very strange encounters at the sinks, feels odd the first few times! But people laugh it off almost instantly. Because it's not actually a big deal to share a sink.
SATORUâS HEAD falls back against the pillows, his glasses slipping down his nose, but he was way to focused on you right now to fix them.
His hands grip your hips tightly, his eyes fixated on the way your body moved on his cock. âFeels so good..â he muttered, you roll your hips as he thrusted up into you, your hands braced on his chest.
One hand moves up, cupping your breast, squeezing it gently, watching them move with each thrust. He sits up, his lips latching onto your nipple, running his tongue over it, glancing up at you through the top of his glasses.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling gently, your head tipped back, your moans filling the room. âFuck.. im gonna..â your breath hitched, your walls clamping around him as he thrusted into you.
Your body shuddering against his, as you reached your climax, your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave red marks beneath your touch. He keeps up his movements, drawing out your orgasm, moans continually falling from your lips. Your head drops to his shoulder as he continued pounding up into you, reaching his own orgasm.
He falls back against the pillows again, his eyes squeezing shut behind his glasses as his thrusts became more uncontrolled. A deep groan strained from his throat as he kept himself deep inside of you, filling you with his release.
His cock starts to soften inside you before he pulls it out, your body collapses against his chest. His arms immediately wrapping around you, placing a kiss on your head. âYou did so good..â he breathed out, running his fingers through your hair soothingly.
᧠äŒé» ççŸ â€ïž dumbification with toji á§
đ âËÊ c.w | smut :: p in v :: nerd!reader? :: degrading :: hair pulling :: swearing :: dom!toji :: spanking :: nicknames .
WHEN TOJI saw how intelligent you were, he couldnât get enough of the idea of fucking you till you were too dumb to even answer a question.
âWhatâs wrong, baby? Canât you handle it?â He mocked, he had you bent over the bed, pounding deep into you.
You couldnât even reply, the only sounds coming from your lips were moans, tears streaming down your face from just the sensation of him buried inside you. He laughs lowly, a smug expression on his face. âPoor baby.â
He grabs your hair, tugging it back, your spine arching into the mattress. âToo fucking dumb to even answer me, huh?â He groaned deeply, his thrusts only becoming more erratic from the sounds of your innocent whines. âMhhmm..â you moaned out, words failed on your tongue.
Your whole body jolted forward with each thrust, the headboard repeatedly tapping against the wall. The sound of skin against skin echoed through the room.
Your breathing became uneven as you felt your climax reaching you, your eyes squeezing shut as your walls clenched tight around his cock. âNot yet..â he ordered, but his movements didnât slow down, you whined in disapproval, trying hard to push back your orgasm till he said otherwise.
But the way his tip continually hit against that perfect spot inside you, made it hard to hold back. Your pussy gripped around him, you couldnât stop yourself anymore, your orgasm pushing over. Your walls fluttered around him as your body trembled, a loud moan reaching his ears.
âStupid girl, did i say to finish yet?â He grunts, a punishing slap meeting against your ass, leaving a red mark blooming across your cheek. âHead so empty you canât follow instructions either, isnât that right?â He says his breath hitching as his own orgasm caught up to him.
You nod your head frantically, your body sensitive from your previous orgasm but he didnât stop till he was done. He grabs your chin, forcing your head towards him. âUse your words.â
âYes..â you sighed out, he spanked your ass again before soothing it over with his palm. Only a few moments later, his orgasm caught up to him. His head tipping back as he buried himself deep inside you. Ropes of thick release filling you to the brim as a groan escaped his throat.
He let out a sigh of relief, pulling his softening cock out of you, both of your releases spilling out your entrance, dripping down your shaking thighs. He leans over kissing your temple possessively. âMy dumb princess, hm..â
ášłàŹ * .ïŸ a/n | thank you for 1.3k im so happy đ„č request from this. á° á°
It has a huge variety of historical recipes from different regions, taken from manuscripts, transcribed and translated, and a whole section of notes about the context for the recipe. It's really fun and I AM going to try a couple of these recipes.
Look at how this lamb recipe is presented:
This is just such a fun way to learn more about historical foodways and discover traditional cuisine.
Look at all the filters you can use:
Maybe if I can forage some good blackberries this year, I can make a 300 year old recipe for blackberry wine!
oh my goodness, one of dian fosseyâs first close up observations with gorillas happened when she was trying to climb a tree to see them better, but so badly that by the time sheâd gotten up the entire group had come out of hiding to look at her: âNearly all members of the group had totally exposed themselves, forgetting about hiding coyly behind foliage screens because it was obvious to them that the observer had been distracted by tree-climbing problems, an activity they could understand.â
[Image transcript: porch. The group had been day-nesting and sunbathing when I contacted them, but upon my approach they nervously retreated to obscure themselves behind thick foliage. Frustrated but determined to see them better, I decided to climb a tree, not one of my better talents. The tree was particularly slithery and, try as I might, no amount of puffing, pulling, gripping, or clawing succeeded in getting me more than a few feet aboveground. Disgustedly, I was about to give up when Sanwekwe came to my aid by giving one mighty boost to my protruding rump; tears were running from his eyes as he was convulsed in silent laughter. I felt as inept as a baby taking its first step. Finally able to grab on to a conveniently placed branch, I hauled myself up into a respectful semislouch position in the tree about twenty feet from the ground. By this time I naturally assumed that the combined noises of panting, cursing, and branch-breaking made during the initial climbing attempts must have frightened the group on to the next mountain. I was amazed to look around and find that the entire group had returned and were sitting like front row spectators at a sideshow. All that was needed to make the image complete were a few gorilla-sized bags of popcorn and some cotton candy! This was the first live audience I had ever had in my life and certainly the least expected.]
imagine some freakish not-a-human alien THING has shown up out of nowhere and is trying to get into your office building to study you. but it has no idea how to get past a revolving door. it tries for three hours. by the time it finally understands the concept of a revolving door and squeeze into the building everyone in the office is crowded into the lobby to watch and call helpful suggestions. itâs conclusively determined that the alien is definitely not a threat, except maybe to itself.
the thing about "people have talked about it you're just 21" is that it's not really "young people are stupid" it's more "if you come into an academic discussion you should know what people have said on the matter lest you talk out your ass"
straight white people making a romance movie: haha what if it was illegal to have sex? wait what's lawrence v texas. wait what's mclaughlin v florida. wait what's loving v virginia
As preposterous and stupid as this fucking movie's premise sounded (for a light-hearted rom-com, and not The Handmaid's Tale) I didn't want to think about it too much until the movie actually came out, and then I could see if it was somehow more intelligent and subversive than the trailer let on, but guess what, it's even worse!
If this is what it takes to get a rom-com greenlit these days, maybe we should just let them die.
Sex workers are thrown under the bus, shown only as thieves who fleece men in the woods at night, while queer sexuality is relegated to a few scenes with Allieâs roommate (a woefully underused Quintessa Swindell) and a handful of pans past blurry same-sex extras making out in the background. âThis night is for the straights,â Swindellâs character says to Allie, before saying that queer people have worked around straight laws for centuries.Â
This is supposed to be a nod to queer resilience, but largely comes off as straightwashing the history of anti-LGBTQ legislation in this country that led towards raids of queer clubs and incarceration of queer people in the not-too-distant past (let alone the current barrage of anti-Trans and LGBTQ legislation currently in the works and on the books). Itâs also ignorant of the long and fraught fight for the normalization of age-of-consent laws, which, by the way, did not happen in all states in this very country until 2003. Yes, thatâs not even thirty years ago.Â
By the end, our intrepid protagonists have not had sex with anyone, because this is a film about Romance with a Capital R (and I guess sex is not part of romance!) and for that very same reason they ultimately embrace the fascist state of things. They arenât the only ones who refuse to fight back. No one in this cursed film is protesting this mandate beyond ârepealâ signs in various windows and some creative graffiti (...)
(...) If we are supposed to believe that the film is making some subversive statement about the state of sex and bodily autonomy in this country, it cannot end with its leads embracing their chains. Thatâs just warmed-over conservatism running around in sheepâs clothing.
yeah i wrote this post having only seen the trailer, but jesus christ. was this movie a psyop LMAO??
also, for the unaware: mclaughlin v. florida was a 1964 supreme court case that struck down a florida anti-miscegenation law that criminalized cohabitation (and thus, as implied, sex) between white people and people of color of opposite genders. anti-miscegenation laws made marriage and sexual relationships between white people and people of color, most often specifically black people, a FELONY in several states in the united states up until the 1950s and 1960s. though it was already struck down by the supreme court, the state of alabama didn't repeal their law until 2000! there were THREE ATTEMPTS at codifying anti-miscegenation into the us constitution!
like yes, the issue here is partially straight white people's ignorance on the united states's history of homophobic policy, but it's also really important to recognize that arguably the majority of the issue here is straight white people's ignorance of the united states's history of codifying eugenics and antiblack racism.
the premise could have been interesting as a serious dystopian story, especially taking that history into account, but it wasn't written that way at all. this movie should never have been a fucking romcom making light of the violence the united states (and many other countries) has enacted on any kinds of sexual relationships it deems undesirable.
