Obsessed With The Idea Of Bianca Who Got It Wrong, Who Assumed That Because Her Fatal Flaw Was Her Holding

Send me a character and a number and I’ll tell you my headcanons for:

1) Something this character is truly proud of.

2) Who they want to please the most. 

3) Who depends on them. 

4) What they would do if they had one month to live. 

5) A cherished personal belonging. 

6) Something they lost, but would love to have back

7) This character’s favorite character

8) What kind of car they would drive. 

9) What calms them when they are upset. 

10) How they deal with pain. 

11) This character’s favorite piece or pieces of clothing. 

12) How they sleep. 

13) What kind of parent they would be. 

14) How they did in school

15) What cologne or perfume they would use

16) Their sexuality

17) What they’d sing at karaoke

18) Special talents they have

19) When they feel safest

20) Household chore they hate the most

21) Their fondest childhood memory

22) How they spend their money. 

23) What kind of alcohol they drink

24) What they wish they could change about themselves

25) What other people wish they could change about them

You know, this is why content creators end up abandoning their works, right?

80 likes compared to 10 reblogs means that only 12% of people decided that what you did is worth showing other people.

If you like the thing, reblog it. You don’t even have to add tags, just spread it so that a) other people can see it, and b) the creator gets recognition for what they did.

Obviously, those numbers are never going to match, but the divide should not be that huge.

It’s even more important right now, because tumblr is garbage and they’ve stopped allowing anything with an outside link from appearing in tags. Writers/artists cannot tag things to their twitter/store/writing website. That can cause a significant drop in views, especially for newer creators.

Like… we aren’t asking for much. A few reblogs. Reviews/comments. No creator should have to beg for that much.

My favourite thing about fan fiction is the experience of watching/reading something and being like ‘huh - I can see a potential pairing there, those two characters could be interesting together’. And then you casually look up the pairing on AO3 and someone has written the most beautiful, heart-wrenching love story you’ve ever read, with character analysis that makes you want to scream, and they’ve teased out the threads of the relationship dynamic in such an interesting way that makes so much SENSE, but you never would have thought it would be so fucking ELECTRIC. And then you recover enough from that fic to read another one, and it’s JUST AS FUCKING GOOD, and before you know it, it’s 3am and your eyes are burning and you’re squinting at the 100th scene of them confessing their love for each other and it’s still not enough. You know what I’m saying???

Weird how the non canon ships in Rick Riordan's books tend to have a better and more interesting history together, better chemistry, healthier dynamics,and feel more natural than the canon couples; plus a lot of wasted potential. Examples are Reyna x Jason, Nico x Percy, Rachel x Percy, Leo x Piper, Jason x Nico or Jason x Leo.

It's like the more Rick wants you to ship something,the more it feels forced and has red flags that are kinda hard to ignore. The only exception being Hazel and Frank

comments on fanfics

I thought about writing this post for a long time and decided, fuck it, I'm gonna write this.

All over my dash I see people being disappointed because nobody is leaving comments on ao3 anymore/rebloging things on tumblr.

And the only thing I can think about this is: it's so true.

Two weeks ago I posted the epilog of my 60k words fanfic (I've been writing on it for almost a year and got some positive feedback on it) and I got ZERO comments, or kudos on the epilog.

I can see that people kicked on it, but I have no idea whether they liked it or not. (And I used to get a comment on my story now and then)

Last week I posted the first extra chapter (I planned three of these) and also got no reaction.

No I'm just sitting here, wondering if my writing is just true shit.

This is also the reason I was hesitate to post this. Maybe it's not the people and just that shithole of a story I've been writing.

Things like are just running around my head now and must say that the motivation to even finish those extra chapters is gone.

GUYS, IF YOU LIKE A FANFIC PLEASE LET THE AUTHOR KNOW, IT MEANS SO MUCH TO THEM.

So if you read a good story, not some bullshit like mine, write that comment.

Human Derek is too shy to come ;)

SITTER'S LOVE - Nico!Babysitter, Percy!Teacher-father - Chapter VI e Chapter VII

Hi, how are you? Since I'm going to try to write a new chapter tomorrow, I decided to post it today. Two more short chapters for you. I hope you like it! See you on Wednesday!

Previous chapters: CHAPTER I / CHAPTER II / / CHAPTER III, CHAPTER IV e CHAPTER V

Chapter VI 

"No running, please." Nico murmured, knowing that the children were already too far away to hear.

Fortunately, the day had passed without too many problems. After that warm introduction, he had dropped the children off at school and with nothing left to do, he returned to Mr. Jackson's house. It was only when Nico found himself standing in the large living room that he found a note on the coffee table:

“Nico, I need you to babysit the kids tonight. I pay overtime. I hope you don’t have any problems. Sorry for the late notice. I’ll be home until 5 if you have any questions.”

Percy Jackson.”

Percy Jackson had to be kidding him, right? It was his first day and the guy already thought he was going to enslave him anyway? What a strange family! Apparently, Percy Jackson was the type to stay locked in his room for hours and the mysterious lady Annabeth Chase was even worse, she was never home and on top of that she seemed to practice maternal abandonment. It was even funny, she hired him and wasn't even home to explain things while he had to put up with her bipolar husband? But everything was fine, as always. He would stay, anyway.

The real problem arose when Nico went to the kitchen that afternoon in search of lunch and came across a fridge full of food, yes, but all the food in there was raw. Or spoiled. In fact, it looked like no one had opened that fridge for months. And since he was there, why not?

Taking a deep breath and feeling a little nauseous, Nico stuck his face in the fridge and started taking out everything that smelled or looked suspicious, vegetables, greens, legumes and even a piece of meat that seemed to have a different color. In the end, he ended up with a giant garbage bag, full to the brim and giving off a foul odor, resting to him very little that could be used. He had a few options, of course; either he could spend the afternoon making a soup, or he could buy food. And since Nico was the only one who was going to eat, he thought it best to buy something for now. So, he grabbed the car keys again and left before it got too late. When he came back he brought back some cooked rice, vegetables, roast meat and a large salad that could be shared with three other people. The good thing was that he had arrived just in time for lunch, almost after one o'clock.

That was how Nico spent his first afternoon at the Chase-Jackson house, reading a book about literature, eating slowly and then exploring the rest of the house, he even found a swimming pool in the backyard to the right of the property while he waited patiently until it was time to pick up the kids. And when the time finally came, he grabbed the car keys, remembering the food that was left in the fridge and neatly packed in its containers. So, Nico decided, Mr. Jackson deserved some food too; Like, the man couldn't stay inside his room all day without eating, could he?

He made a nice plate for the boss, knocked on the door and put the plate and tray on the floor. Without looking back, he turned and went down the stairs, heading straight out of the house towards the car, luckily arriving at the children's school before they got out. It wasn't long before a sea of students arrived, all in a hurry to leave.

Before he knew it, Nico was attacked by hands and arms that dug into him in a way that made it impossible for him to break free.

"You came!”

"Shouldn't I?" He asked Logan, confused.

"The nannies are always late." Alice completed her brother's speech. "It's boring to wait here. Is it really that hard to be on time, you know?”

"I understand. You don't have to wait with me.”

Happy, the children held his hand and walked with him to the car. With his help, they sat in the back seat without stopping talking; even Alice, who had seemed quiet that morning, was now gesturing and telling them about her day. Nico did his best to pay attention to what they were saying and wave at the right times, preferring to pay attention to driving through the city, soon entering the condominium once again. And now? Now he was trying to keep up with their pace. The moment they arrived home, Nico helped them out of the car and as soon as they were free, they each gave him a tight hug and both ran through the garden, already climbing the small porch and going through the front door.

And, in a burst of energy, he ran after the children, taking their backpacks and lunchboxes with him, listening to them talking in the kitchen, this scene reminding him that they would have nothing to eat.

"Nico! Nico! I'm hungry!" He heard one of them scream.

"Do you know how to cook?" The other one completed.

Admitting defeat, it seemed like Nico would have to cook after all, right?

He placed their bag and car keys next to the living room table and walked towards the kitchen until he entered it; Nico already regretted not having ordered more food. As much as he wanted to avoid further interrogation, he had no choice. The children were lucky to be so cute. The good thing was that after spending part of the afternoon cleaning out the fridge, Nico knew exactly where to find everything he needed; vegetables, spices and greens, going straight to the cupboard and grabbing a pot. He filled it with water and put it on the stove, trying to pretend to be in front of the stove, pretending to be busy just so he wouldn't have to face this ordeal.

And honestly? He was already getting tired of this.

"Nicooo… where did you learn to do that?”

"Did your daddy teach you?”

Has he said he was tired of it? Nico knew how curious children could be and have a thousand questions. But this went beyond pure curiosity, it was the work of a being made entirely of cruelty. However, something made him stop halfway to the refrigerator. He turned towards Logan and saw how the little boy showed the most innocent expression he had ever seen. His blue-green eyes, like his father's, and blond hair that he must have inherited from his mother, sparkled like rays of sunlight that shone brightly in his direction. Yes, Nico could not ignore him any longer. He stopped what he was doing and raised his head, the last question taking him by surprise.

Nico smiled and then opened the fridge, taking out all the vegetables he would need; potatoes, carrots, garlic, onions and cilantro. Some peppers too and chayote to make everything healthier.

"Why my father?" Nico had to ask. The question was too specific to be a coincidence.

"Daddy teaches us everything!" Logan said. His face expressive, proud to tell him this.

"And your mother?”

“She never stays home.” This time it was Alice who answered, looking away from the phone she was holding. Alice shrugged and went back to her phone, although he knew Alice paid even more attention than Logan.

"Ah." He said. At least that seemed to have stopped the endless string of questions they insisted on firing.

"Do you like your mother?" Alice asked.

Nico looked through the corner of his eyelashes and saw that this time it wasn't the type of question to extract information from him.

"She is one of the best people I know. She taught me how to cook and study. How to take care of the house and my brothers.”

"And your father?" Logan wanted to know.

"He… he did the best he could. He taught me how to take care of the land and to respect all living things. But he can be violent when provoked.”

"Like mom and dad?”

"Logan!" Alice scolded him. She put her hand over his brother's mouth and tried to smile at Nico.

“I see,” Nico said after a while, knowing exactly what Logan meant by that. When the silence became uncomfortable, he added, “This will be our secret.”

Fortunately, after this revelation, the questions stopped completely. Nico went back to the stove and, seeing that the water was almost boiling, quickly peeled the vegetables. He fried the garlic and onion, added the peppers and put everything in the pot, waiting for the mixture to cook properly and the broth to thicken a little. Dealing with children was always strange and despite these children having everything anyone could want, he felt bad for them. They seemed so lonely and resigned to this, as if it was all they could have, reminding him of his own childhood. Now he knew that he could have so much more if he wanted, and he felt the urge to show them that they could have this and much more too.

There was just one detail, he wasn't their father and it wasn't up to him to get involved in what wasn't his business; Nico had to remember that, he knew that Mr. Jackson was responsible for all these questions the children insisted on asking him and he had no right to take it out on them or influence them in that way. So, while the soup wasn't ready, Nico went to the table, smiled at Logan and Alice and approached until he was at their height, kissing each of their hair, trying to convey calm and affection.

"So, what do you guys want to do? Homework?”

"Let's play 10 questions!”

Logan was hopeless, he would always be daddy's boy.

"Nice try." He pinched Logan's nose and Logan laughed, trying to push Nico's hands away. "Come on, this will be quick. Don't you need help? I'll do it with you.”

"Are you really going? Dad doesn't always have time…”

"Okay. Stand up. You too, Alice.”

"I'm not a little kid who needs help.”

"Hey!"Logan complained, crossing his arms.

“No exceptions.” Was all he said before turning down the heat and heading out of the kitchen.

Logan skipped after him, and Alice could only roll her eyes and follow them into the living room, where they spread their notebooks and books out on the coffee table while Nico supervised them. It was oddly pleasant, the kids got all their homework done and still had time to watch a bit of television before heading back to the kitchen.

In the end, the soup had turned out better than Nico remembered; his grandmother's recipe never failed, or so she used to tell him. He went to the stove, turned it off, and inhaled the appetizing and fragrant aroma, took the pot to the center of the table, placed three plates on the table, and served generous portions. He felt like he should wait for the owner of the house, however, since Mr. Jackson must have already left, it would be just him, the children, and the comfortable sofa in the living room. Which he didn't mind; their company would always be better than that of that man who spent all his time staring at him, his inquisitive gaze making something inside Nico stir uneasily. His skin would heat up and the base of his neck would tingle for hours. Then, this anxiety, unlike any other, would take over him in a way that forced him to get up or do something useful with his hands. That's why afternoons like these were good for his heart, his anxiety remained at normal levels and he could relax even in the midst of the millions of questions those little pests insisted on asking.

"Wow! This is so delicious!”

“It really is.” Alice agreed with Logan. She blew slowly and took another spoonful, moaning in pleasure.

Nico smiled in satisfaction at the compliment. It was nice to know that someone still liked what he did.

Chapter VII 

"Nico? Nico? It's time to go to bed." Nico heard someone call him in a whisper next to his ear. In fact, it had been a while since anyone had used that tone of voice with him, something careful and gentle, soft, trying to wake him up without scaring him. Then, someone's hand touched his shoulder, heavy but comforting as it slid and rested on his back, moving him and helping him to get up gently from the couch.

Nico opened his eyes slowly, and this time he didn't react as he had expected. It was Mr. Jackson, of course, in a designer black suit and smelling so good that Nico found himself leaning toward the man, watching his dark hair slicked back and the stubble that was already growing out tickle his fingertips.

How did he know that? Well... maybe he touched Mr. Jackson's face, fingering the skin as he tried to sit up and face whoever was calling him. And maybe he kept his hand there a little longer than necessary, just a small error of course, you know, right? That was all. The good thing about all this was that Mr. Jackson didn't seem to mind; he smiled at Nico and held out his hand so he could stand up, guiding him by the middle of his back as they walked through the house. And Nico, with the biggest blank face he could muster, finally sat up straight on the couch and followed him, doing his best to pretend nothing was happening. Now, why this man kept catching him in this situation, Nico couldn't explain.

“Bed?” Nico finally muttered. He rubbed his eyes and tried to think of what bed that was.

"It's already two in the morning. I'm sorry the meeting lasted longer than I intended. And thank you for the food.”

"Ah… then I… I think I’ll go.”

"No, you can use the guest room. Please.”

Mr. Jackson didn't give any other excuse or try to explain why Nico should sleep there. No, the man just stated like it was obvious that he would obey. And that was it, simple as that, things were resolved. Nico thought about arguing, about saying that they shouldn't do this, but ... but he knew that things would be easier if he just accepted it and since Nico didn't have the right to choose, he shrugged; after all, what could be wrong with sleeping a night away from home? "That's it. No problem", he thought again. Nico would have to wake up early and be there at seven, so... just this once... just once... it was okay. Right?

Feeling his body go limp, he let Mr. Jackson hold him by the shoulders and continue to guide him through the house.

"Are you hungry?" Mr. Jackson asked him.

Nico blinked slowly, trying to think and turned to him, seeing the man's smile returning in full force.

Oh, it was true! He had forgotten.

"I made soup.”

“Did you make soup?” Mr. Jackson repeated, as if to make sure.

"It's in the fridge.”

Okay, this wasn't even that strange of a situation, right? It must be a normal thing to have dinner with your boss…? Nico shook his head and decided not to do anything else inappropriate, he sat down near the kitchen counter, while still smiling Mr. Jackson walked over to the fridge, opening it. And inside, as Nico had said, there was a giant container full of vegetable soup and one with the rest of the food he had bought.

Mr. Jackson, clearly surprised, picked up the container and opened it, inhaling the aroma.

“Are these real vegetables?" Mr. Jackson asks even more surprised, realizing that it wasn't the instant soup type.

"Isn't that how you make soup? Did you know there was no food for the children?" He murmured uncertainty.

"Nah. We have frozen food.”

"Ah." Nico said.

He wanted to tell him that frozen food was horrible and unhealthy. But of course he didn’t say what he thought. Instead, he watched as the man scooped out some of the soup, put it in a deep dish, microwaved it, and then sat down across from him, taking the first spoonful. When Nico said this, he wasn’t joking; Mr. Jackson closed his eyes contentedly and groaned so loudly that he felt like he had reached heaven.

"Mr. Di Ângelo, who would have thought! You are full of surprises. What else can you do?”

And didn't the question sound… strangely dubious? Nico felt the sleep dissipating faster than a rocket as his face caught fire. He couldn't help it, it was something physical, he felt his skin heating up and sweating and his heart racing for some reason. It wasn't his fault that Mr. Jackson looked at him like that, the man's smile looking… slightly different.

"Anything. Food, desserts, and pasta. My mother…" He swallowed and cleared his throat, feeling his throat close up for some reason he couldn't understand. "She learned it from her mother. And since my sisters aren't interested… I like to spend my time helping her.”

He shrugged, it wasn't that unusual. The difference was that he preferred to stay at home while other children ran around the fields playing.

"How old are you again?”

It was the exact moment when Nico realized that the questionnaire was returning with full force.

"I wanted to talk to you about this.”

"Please, call me Percy.”

"Okay, Percy. Could you stop with these interrogations?" Nico spoke as seriously as he could. He straightened his spine, placed his hands on the counter and added, so as not to seem too rude: "Please. If you want to know anything, just tell me. I have nothing to hide.”

Facing him head on, Mr. Jackson, I mean, Percy, placed the spoon over the plate and leaned in close to him, getting a little too close.

"What is it?" Nico had to ask.

"Okay. I'll ask the kids to stop. But you have to be honest with me.”

"Right…?”

He saw Percy take a deep breath and couldn't believe what he heard next:

"How did you find the ad? Do you study? What do you plan to do in the future? How are you so good with children? How old are you? Where does your family come from? And about--”

"W-what? Wait a minute! They didn't give you that information?”

"Give me information? I don't even know who they are!”

"Oh." Now he understood.

"I had no choice! The girl who cleaned the house quit right after the nanny was fired. I really had no choice. You know how hard it is to take care of children…”

Nico put his arm on the counter and rested his head on it, watching Percy huff angrily, trying not to laugh in the man's face, and only when he was sure Percy was finished, he replied:

"So… I’m twenty years old. I’ve been studying law at community college on the weekends and working during the week to pay for college since I was seventeen.”

"Oh." It was Percy's turn to mutter.

"My family is from Italy, we came here when my paternal grandfather died a few years ago and as my father has no brothers, he took responsibility for the family business.”

“Shouldn't he pay for your college?" Percy said.

"We… we don't get along very well. He thinks doing Law School is a waste of time.”

"I see you like children…”

Nico shrugged again.

"I helped my mother at home. Children are… pure and they don’t lie. They are better company than many adults.”

After that… Nico wasn't sure of anything anymore. Mr. Jackson, I mean, Percy, continued eating his soup while Nico just stood there thinking that, after all, Percy had a reason to act that way, waiting for Percy to finish his dinner. He knew he didn't need to wait and he even knew where the room was, Nico just… he just didn't want to move, feeling that drowsiness return. It was more interesting to stay where he was, feeling sleep come back to him minute by minute, the movement Percy made with the spoon seeming almost hypnotic, raising and lowering it, until the plate was empty and Percy had leaned against the seat of the chair.

"You know tomorrow is Saturday, don't you?”

“Is that so?" He had completely forgotten.

"And, in this house, no one wakes up early on the weekend.”

"Hmm.”

"So, if you want to take a shower and sleep until noon…”

"Oh. Right.”

Nico stopped looking at Percy's hands and looked up at his eyes. He was confused... was Percy inviting him as a guest? The man looked so different from before that he seemed like a completely changed person. Nico didn't know if he liked this, this quick change, and he still didn't know if it was right for a person who provided a service to sleep in his employer's house.

"I have no clean clothes.”

"I'll lend you some. Look, I can't let you go out at this time. So be a good boy and obey me, okay?”

So, Percy got up, washed his own plate and on the way out he pulled him by the hand. Nico found himself with no choice but to follow him like a sleepy puppy, like he were being guided by a leash, completely obedient and without saying a single word.

Thanks for your support!

Comment on fanfics

A few days back on AO3 I found an unfinished, two chapter spideypool fanfic that was cute and had lots of potential and was also last updated two years ago. Two whole years! And it had only three comments, all of which on chapter one, none on chapter two. I enjoyed the fanfic, despite it being far, FAR from being finished and the chance of it ever updating again anytime soon was just about zero. So you know what I did?

I wrote a damn comment. On chapter two.

And I made sure that fucker was long and had a small theory of where I think the author would take the fanfic in the future. I let the person behind the fic know that I friggin LOVED the two chapters I got to read! That I would LOVE to see more! That I’d jump out of my skin in happiness and virtually hug them half to death if I saw that they updated it.

Let me remind you this fic wasn’t updated in two YEARS! I was the first to comment on it in a year. And the first to comment on chapter two! And you know what happened today?

I got a reply.

From the author of the fanfic. And the author said how I gave them life for a project they had loved (still did) and that they were now working on a third chapter. After two YEARS of not updating. Of not writing. And it makes me so friggin happy seeing what I did. What I caused.

With a single. Damn. Comment.

All that it took for me was to think a bit about what I wanted to tell the author and the comment it. All it took was one comment. And suddenly this person was inspired to continue a fanfic they had abandoned for TWO YEARS!!

I couldn’t be happier. I couldn’t be more proud.

Comment on people’s fanfics. No matter how few chapters there are. No matter how many years have passed since their last update. Comment. You like a fanfic? Comment on it. It’s that easy.

Hey guys let me tell you about advance fee scams

I hope y'all are familiar with these in this day and age, especially my artists out there, because they're incredibly common.

About half an hour ago I posted a drawing and tagged it #artists on tumblr, and very quickly received this comment.

My scam radar went off immediately, due to the generic blog name and lack of any emotion in the comment, but I decided it might be an entertaining venture so I dmed them. They asked for a drawing "of these", and sent me a random selfie. I got the details and told them it would be $15, and they promptly offered me $300. At this point I know it's a scam, but I play along for funsies and give them my paypal. Shortly, they send me this image for "confirmation" (I blocked out my email)

And they began to insist that I checked my email. I looked in my spam folder and found the following email.

This is fake. This is not a thing. And the "you're to refund the $200.00 back" is the scam. They send vaguely official-looking emails at you to "prove" that they sent you the money, then have you send them $200 (or however much the scam is for). Then, surprise surprise, you're out $200.

I continued to play along for a bit, and in the second email "Paypal" told me that I had to refund the $200 before they could "credit the $300 to my account", along with these lovely threats.

And yeah, it's silly. But it's not silly if you don't know and get scammed. So. Spread, please! And thank you very much to @mlaurel for the opportunity to get these screenshots.