#piper and hazel are supposed to be besties? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kekaki-cupcakes · 1 month

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Heyyy can you please write something for Nico x male reader where Nico has seen reader around camp and reader is friendly and always laughing and talking with everyone. And Nico develops a crush on reader and eventually he decides to confess to reader when he sees them in the woods. Fluffy mainly but like a little spicey at the end if u do that stuff? :)

hey there bestie, let's pretend it hasn't been two months. this fic is also for @golden-boy-muda 's request for nico x transmasc reader <3

I couldn't find an idea in my empty ol head for this request but then I was looking for old oil painting wallpapers for my phone and now you have this incredibly sappy 3.2k of art references [I advise you keep another tab open for cross-referencing if you want the fUlL eXpErIeNcE]

Oil on Canvas--- Nico di Angelo x transmasc reader [3.2k] »»————-　★　————-««

Nico definitely isn’t a stalker, he understands boundaries [once Jason explains them to him, of course], but he might have a bit of a staring problem.

Sometimes he’s just eating gluten free waffles with Hazel in the dining pavilion and ends up watching you shove your siblings around and plait your little sister's hair so it doesn’t get in her face when she goes Pegasus riding.

He spooned some blueberries onto his plate.

It’s not his fault.

It’s yours, if anything. What is he supposed to do apart from feel like there’s moths beneath his ribcage when you pose, your nose scrunched, up for photos with Drew’s polaroid camera that’s covered with inappropriate stickers?

Hazel elbowed him meaningfully in the side when he couldn’t help but grin because Holy Hades, a single person shouldn’t be able to look that much like the painting Ophelia [by friedrich heyser, to be specific], just because they wore a green camp shirt and a pearl necklace.

Maybe it was his fault that he was comparing you to beautiful paintings.

He scooped the blueberries onto his half eaten waffle and reached for the maple syrup Hazel had finished drowning her breakfast in.

The Stoll brother’s mortal mum had sent a stack of paintings from art galleries all over the world last Christmas, and they’d let him pick out a few of the older more poetic ones that didn’t have enough blood and guts for their taste.

Now the oil paintings of lakes and birds and crying angels and… mainly cats, actually, hung around the dark walled Cabin he slept in.

Your laugh when you threw strawberries at Kayla and Austin while they worked in the infirmary reminded him of Angel [carl von marr, of course] and he felt like Chat a difficult catch [charles van den eycken] when you walked right past him without even glancing back.

So he’d made peace with watching from afar how you would forget daily to put sunscreen on but somehow always remembered to wear this pair of white crocheted gloves that looked like cat paws.

On a completely irrelevant note, Nico was learning to crochet.

Hazel made eye contact with him again when he looked from you to her, and he plugged his ears and glared before she started kicking him in the shins and begging him to pluck up the courage to walk over and even just make eye contact.

Not that he didn’t want to.

He may have lined up in his catalog of daydreams, this scenario where you both went down to the beach. Any beach, really. You’d collect shells and eat popcorn and grapes and lemonade and squish sand between your toes and pick up crabs with him.

PROMENADE ON THE BEACH [Charles Atamian, obviously].

There was another scenario where he’d take you to the farmers market. It had the biggest bouquets of flowers, and rows upon rows of fruits and vegetables and incense and beaded jewelry.

When he was laying in bed underneath the fluffy zebra patterned duvets that Piper forced him to use, mainly because they matched the dark reds of the cushions and browns of the bookshelves and antique lamps in the cabin so well, you were walking down the rows of little stores with him.

You were holding his hand with those soft cat paw gloves and you liked the feel of his rings [he’d read that people liked rings in a book, somewhere] and you’d filled the Studio Ghibli tote bag you had with berries.

He’d watched most of the movies after he saw your bag. He liked Arriety the best.

Clarisse stomped past the Hades table, leaving bloody footprints no one asked about, and smacked him in the back of his head. Nico went back to eating his waffles and daydreaming about your smile.

In the farmers market you would sniff candles and never buy them because Hazel had far too many for all of her spells and the such that he would never run out. And what was Hazel’s was his and what was his was hers, meaning that what was Hazel’s was yours.

Because Nico would give everything he owned, even his favorite jacket, for you to look his way.

And he would buy you flowers, whichever were your favorite.

Maybe the ones from the painting Hazel forced him to take because ‘you can’t just not hang a painting that literally is you, Neeks’.

Italian Girl with Flowers. Joaquin Sorolla. 1886.

He didn’t see the resemblance.

But it didn’t really matter, because he’d get to watch you looking at all the cool things for sale and then he’d take you to the best gelato he’d found so far [he was making a list] or just use the shadows, and take you to a proper gelato shop. Whatever you wanted to do, really.

Nico blinked. He huffed, mainly at himself, and stabbed his waffle. It fell apart on the fork.

“Why’re you angry?��

He looked up from his plate, to Hazel. She was sitting opposite him with a mustache made of orange juice. “...I’m not.”

“You’re not supposed to be pushing down your emotions, remember?” she said sternly, and started picking the green bits off a strawberry. She was eating as many berries as she could, since she wasn’t allowed lollies anymore. The perks of braces.

Nico looked away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re thinking about the cat glove girl, aren’t you?” she asked with a smirk.

“Cat glove boy, remember?” he muttered, and took a bite of his waffle, wiping squished blueberries off his chin.

Hazel’s golden eyes widened, “Oh yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” he said, and was grateful for the excuse to peek your way. You were eating toast. Very pretty-ily. He felt his face heat up.

Hazel perked up, a mischievous grin he didn’t appreciate on her face. “Okay! I’ll go apologize to your boyfriend then-”

Nico stared at her. Why was she like this? She actually went to stand up, and then he yanked her sleeve, pulling her back down to the table. “No! Don’t just… you can’t… stop!”

“You didn’t deny that he’s your boyfriend,” Jason chuckled, sitting down next to Hazel.

“I hate you all,” Nico said.

It was torture.

He felt like Sleepy time potion [Vanessa Stockhard], stuck in the middle of your loveliness, unable to do anything except stare and hope that his face wasn’t too as red as the mushroom he was sitting on.

In the painting.

Not in real life.

Obviously.

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico stared down at the hat in his lap.

He’d done it. He’d actually finished one of the hundreds of projects he’d started in Piper’s efforts to find him a hobby that wasn’t sitting on the fences of cemeteries or standing in line at Mcdonalds.

He had lots of other hobbies, he just… couldn’t come up with them when she was arguing with him.

So they’d gone through writing, painting, records, sleeping, which he excelled in, and then crocheting. None had lasted very long, but he may have had an idea half way through trying to stab Piper with the crocheting stick.

And now he had a white bucket hat with cat ears.

He threw it to the end of his bed, and hid underneath his duvet. Fuck.

Repose. Malcolm Liepke. 1953.

What on Olympus was he supposed to do about the way he wanted to hold you so badly he felt like throwing up and tearing his hair out?

He lay underneath in the pocket of stuffy darkness for a moment, before sitting up, untangling his blankets and teddies from him, and then standing. He may have just had the greatest idea anyone had ever thought of before.

Hazel was still in the shower, singing, most likely, so he grabbed his jacket from the coat rack that was actually just a skeleton, and then stomped out of his cabin, the stupid hat in his fist.

His heart was beating wildly. Stupid heart.

The Wedding Dress. Fred Ellwell. 1911.

He rubbed his face and groaned at the sky. The stars were just peeking out, but it was still pink and yellow, and the sun hadn’t dipped yet. It was hidden by the trees he was trudging through, though.

Fuck.

His chest was hurting.

Nico scrunched up the stupid perfect crocheted hat that just had to stupidly perfectly match your stupid perfect cat gloves because Nico was stupidly perfectly obsessed with you.

You, who was stupidly perfect.

Fuck.

Psyche Weeping. Kinuko Y Craft. 1995.

He trod on twigs that broke underneath his boots and weaved through the tree’s that slowly became more and more laden with hanging pendants and wind chimes and ruins carved into the bark.

He stepped over a thin stream. A frog croaked at him like it was dying. As if it could ever feel like it was dying. As if it could ever fall in love.

Nico groaned at the sky again.

“Just let it all out.”

He turned, and glared. “Do you mind?”

“Yes, actually,” Lou Ellen said, raising a purple eyebrow. It matched the undersides of her curly hair. She pointed to the cabin concealed in shadows and moss and stones behind her. “This is my house. And you are yelling very loudly.”

“I’m not yelling,” Nico argued. “I’m groaning.”

She stared at him for a second. She rolled her eyes. “Just come in, what do you need?”

“I need a spell. Or a charm. Or hex,” Nico said, following her through the wooden double doors. A wind chime tinkled even though the air was still. There were a few bunks lined up against the wall to one side. “Or a magic thing. I don’t care which one.”

The rest of the cabin was filled with small coffin shaped pet beds and empty pink soda cans and voodoo dolls hanging from the roof and rugs with cats wearing strawberry hats on the fluffy material and misty crystal balls.

Lou Ellen lent back on a desk stacked high with papers and paperweights that were actually jars filled with things. “Okay. I have three rules. I don’t kill people, and I don’t make people fall in love.”

“...And?”

“I’ll break both if it’ll be fun?”

Nico frowned. “No. Aren’t you supposed to say you won’t bring people back from the dead? That’s always the third rule.”

She squinted at him. “Uh…no. I send those people to you.”

Nico squinted back at her, sticking his tongue out. He fiddled with the stupid perfect hat and looked around. There was just more creepy things and stuffed animals. “Whatever. I need your help.”

“With what?”

“I need you to… like,” Nico started. He sighed. He looked away.

This was awful.

He was not about to admit that he might be in love, even if it was to reverse the feelings in the first place with whatever heart ripping out brain altering magic was necessary.

The Apollo cabin would find out through the witch in less than thirty seconds. He would never live it down.

Nico groaned again. “Oh for fucks sake, do you need me to fic your voicebox or something?” Lou Ellen hissed.

Nico glared at her. He groaned again, and then whirled around and stomped out of the weird mossy mushroom cabin. “Nevermind!”

“Fine! Have it your way!...weird little emo.”

Nico glared at the frog croaking at him, and kept walking through the forest.

He followed the little stream through the woods until he could hear wind chimes or Taylor Swift’s latest album anymore.

The little stream widened into a proper stream, filled with a lot more frogs. Why were there so many frogs? He nearly stood on a green one leaping across the path. Stupid frog.

Nico stuffed his hands into his pockets, along with the hat. He was tempted to just toss it into the river. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with all of the silly feelings that felt like the biggest things in the world to him and his silly head full of thoughts about your lips.

Maybe the frogs could use the hat as a home.

“Here froggie… Come here… I said, come here... No I am not taking a tone with you!”

Nico froze.

Fuck. He took a deep breath, probably too loudly. He glanced to the side.

Of course you were catching frogs, knee deep in a river.

You looked over, making eye contact, and Nico realized the moths underneath his ribcage were turning into bats. You squinted at him, hands on your hips, while water swirled around and leaves drifted from the trees above. A bucket was wedged between two rocks next to you.

A frog jumped out of it and landed near your leg, on a lillypad.

“Look Albert,” you said, turning to the frog. “It’s a little Victorian ghost.”

“...I’m Italian,” Nico said quietly. He stared at you. He couldn’t help it. Wow. Fuck. Leo was right. He really was pathetic. “And I’m not a ghost.”

“Okay, Victorian ghost.”

Nico stared at you. Fuck.

After that exchange, he should be able to hate you. Right? Right. He now resented you, and the moths turned bats would stop clawing at his chest and he would go back to having a normal life.

Right?

Wrong.

You squinted at Nico, and then slowly turned to Albert. “I think the cute Victorian ghost is having a stroke.”

Nico blinked once, gulped, and then marched forward through the cold water and frogs, his shoes squelching loudly. Gods. This was so embarrassing. But you thought he was cute, even if you also thought he was a dead english boy, so he would be content with dying from embarrassment.

He shoved the stupid perfect hat into your stupid perfect hands.

And then left in about 0.3 seconds.

»»————-　★　————-««

You stared down at your pancakes. Why were they so gray looking? Had someone poisoned them? You figured that it would be a pretty good way to die, and tipped extra maple syrup onto them before you dug in.

To counterbalance the poison, of course.

You scratched at the mosquito bite underneath the strap of your binder. It had flowers embroidered into it. Your binder. Not the mosquito bite.

One of your siblings across from you kicked at your shin, probably on purpose, but you continued to eat your odd tasting pancakes and picked blueberry grit off your white cat paw gloves. They were your favorite gloves.

They also matched your new hat. The new hat that the cute Victorian but actually Italian ghost boy had given you before he teleported away with whatever dark magic he had stored in all that goth-ness.

You tossed a blueberry at Clarisse when she walked past and tried to bash you over the head.

She wasn’t allowed to ruin your new hat.

You turned to see her flicking the blueberry over at someone else, and your eyes flicked past that too. Now way. You stood up, but you’d lost sight of the mess of dark hair when the Hermes cabin barrelled past.

You clambered onto your seat and stood up there. “Oi! Victorian ghost hat boy!”

The dining pavilion went quiet pretty quickly, and everyone turned to the cute guy with a skeleton hoodie and wide eyes. He pointed at himself when you pointed at him, and then went pink.

Clarisse stuck her arm out so you didn’t faceplant when you jumped down from your seat, and you held onto your new hat as you traipsed across the cracked floor.

You’d never figured out how that crack had got there. But there were bigger mysteries.

Like this cute goth.

His face just pinker when you grabbed his sleeve and tried to tug him out of the entire camp’s curious eyes. A dark skinned girl with a lot of butterfly clips and a Steven Universe t-shirt sent a thumbs up in your direction.

It was only when you were standing by the low burning fire pit in a patch of daisies did you realize you hadn’t really planned far enough ahead.

You took off the cat-ear hat and looked down at it. “...Uhm…”

“Sorry,” the goth said quickly, and when you made eye contact he looked away even quicker. “It’s creepy. Boundaries and stuff, I just… saw your gloves.”

“It’s not creepy,” you argued, putting the hat back on with a grin. He was really cute when he blushed. “I mean, I don’t even know your name, and I have no idea who you are but your eyeliner is really really great and… Holy Hades if you smile like that again can I… please kiss you?”

The goth with no name stared at you, and then nodded about ten times too many. “Yes please. But, uh.. If you’re gonna kiss me, please, maybe don’t get my dad involved.”

“...Wut?”

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico could feel his cheeks growing hotter.

Not because of the sun, specifically, but it was hot and bright in the woods. He’d worn sunscreen though. And forced you to put it on too, once he’d found watermelon scented sunscreen, because you refused to smell gross no matter how sunburnt you would get anyways.

His face was hot and red because of you.

You, who was stupidly perfect and also possibly kind of Nico’s stupidly perfect boyfriend.

“Psst, Victorian ghost boy,” you said with a sing-song voice, quietly, and waved your hand in front of his eyes with your pink, blue, and white painted nails. He blinked. You smiled. “You zoned out again.”

“Sorry,” Nico said, and pulled a daisy out of the ground. He handed it over. “I was thinking about you.”

He hadn’t realized the effect that saying that would have on you, but it was worth it when you opened and closed your mouth like one of the frogs you kept as pets.

“I.. well, what were you thinking about?”

Nico had played his cards right. He smirked, and you shuffled forwards on the checked picnic blanket Piper had stolen from Drew, who’d probably nicked it from poor unsuspecting Demeter or Iris kid. You knocked over the basket of strawberries too, and then took your bucket hat off and stuffed it in your lap with a grin.

He tilted his head down. You were both following a very well rehearsed script. “...Kissing you?”

You launched yourself forwards then with a laugh, your cat-paw gloved hands landing on either side of his waist and probably squishing some of those strawberries at the same time.

The sun reflected in your eyes and Nico held the sides of your face as he pressed his lips to yours.

You kissed back, and once you both stopped smiling widely, you could kiss back.

Properly.

He scratched his fingernails, the ones you’d painted rainbow that afternoon after catching more frogs and complaining about sunscreen, along your jaw when you bit down on his bottom lip.

Not as a complaint, certainly not, and you knew that too because you just sat back on your knees between Nico’s lap and tilted your head to fit deeper against Nico’s bruised lips.

The ones that hadn’t had a single day off since you jumped up in the middle of breakfast with your gluten free waffles you hadn’t realized were gluten free until he had explained it to you later.

It was intensely crazily unbearably romantic but it also meant whatever cold one of you managed to catch, the other would come down with only minutes later.

And Nico felt like that smug little cat from Julie Manet’s Auguste Renoir.

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #nico #nico pjo #nico di angelo #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #nico di angelo x reader #nico x reader #nico di angelo pjo #pjo hoo toa #hoo #nico di angelo x you #nico di angelo reader #nico di angelo x transmasc reader #lou ellen #lou ellen pjo

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dragonfly0808 · 1 year

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A Heroes of Olympus… Rant? Idk

So, I’ve been in a bit of a reading slump so I decided to reread my Riordan books to get me out of it and I’ve been thinking a lot about the Heroes of Olympus series specifically because… as much as I love that series looking back on it… there was just so much potential not just with the story but with the characters so… I’ve decided to make a small list of shit I would change just cause I feel like it.

So, first off, I don’t think I’d change much about The Lost Hero and Son of Neptune other than 3 tiny things.

1st, in The Lost Hero, Jason doesn’t fully remember Reyna like Percy does Annabeth, but he knows that there’s someone waiting for him. Also, Piper and Jason have an actual conversation in which they’re both like ‘Look, neither of us asked for this and I’m really sorry but we shouldn’t be together when our relationship never really existed.’

2nd, about Piper… SHE SHOULDN’T BE AN ‘I’M NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS’ GIRL BECAUSE GIRLY GIRLS CAN BE JUST AS BADASS AND HAVE STORIES JUST AS GOOD AS TOMBOY AND NERDY GIRLS FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK- Sorry I am just so sick and tired of fantasy books specifically treating girly girls with little to no respect. Like… come on man.

For Piper she’d either be a girly girl from the start or she’d embrace her girly side while hanging out with the Aphrodite cabin (who deserve so much justice, I might actually do a one-shot about the Aphrodite cabin just cause I had an idea of Percy on his first week getting his nails done by Silena cause he always wanted to but couldn’t cause of Gabe/bullies idk) but yeah, Piper could go on a small journey of learning to embrace her girly side and also discovering she’s lesbian/bi, to which Drew reminds her that Aphrodite is the goddess of all kinds of love.

Son of Neptune I would only change Frank, he wouldn’t get his weird glow up, let him stay chubby and awkward!!!

Now… this is when we really deviate.

Cause… I would actually have Reyna and Nico be part of the 7 while Percy and Annabeth stay behind in New Rome (Percy stays in New Rome as Praetor and Annabeth returns to Camp Half-Blood to lead or they both stay in New Rome and Annabeth gets the idea to build something like that in Camp Half-Blood you know… BUILD SOMETHING PERMANENT).

Maybe Reyna or Nico get a vision that lets them know that they are the ones supposed to go with the 7 instead of Annabeth and Percy. (Maybe instead of Nico it’s Thalia who’s in the Jar idk) and so Reyna and Nico go with the 7 (Reyna and Jason have an emotional reunion as they should’ve but they still don’t talk about their feelings cause they’re Romans and duty comes first)

And… hear me out! 1) Piper, Hazel and Reyna would make such a powerful trio just… women! 2) Nico would have a tough time bonding with the boys (he has a strong bond with Hazel and I feel like Nico would be surprised to bond with Reyna quickly, but eventually he and Jason would become low-key besties and his banter with Leo would be very fun.) 3) ACTUAL SCENES OF THE 7 BONDING.

So Reyna would get Annabeth’s quest maybe with another villain? Point is, at the end of Mark of Athena, Reyna is the one that’s getting dragged to Tartarus, Jason tries to catch her, they’re hanging off the ledge, Jason can’t fly because the pit is trying to suck them in or smth. Reyna tells him to let her go, it’s his duty to lead the group yadda yadda yadda. Jason refuses to, tells Nico (or Thalia if she’s the one they rescue who knows?) to meet them on the other side of the Gates and we get a Jeyna Tartarus fall.

House of Hades. After years of not knowing how to approach the subject because of awkwardness/fear of abandonment/trust issues/too many praetor duties, etc… the fact that Jason was willing to fall into Tartarus with her, and the very real possibility of dying, makes Reyna and Jason finally talk about their feelings and get together and they survive Tartarus together.

In the meanwhile shit is going down in New Rome cause of stupid Octavian. Percy and Annabeth have to leave. On the Argo II everyone is having a mental breakdown so Nico or maybe Piper step up to try and lead (I would actually love it to be Piper cause she had potential as a leader so yeah).

Then another big change, Ogygia. Leo does land up on Ogygia, he does meet Calypso BUT- they don’t fall in love, however, they do grow to love each other which is what allows Leo to leave.

I don’t know exactly how it would work but I would love for platonic love to be the thing that finally saves Calypso and gets her off Ogygia. This would also play into an arc I’d give Leo all about 1) learning that he doesn’t have to be in love to be complete and growing and being okay with being alone as long as he’s not lonely and learning that platonic love can be just as strong as romantic love or 2) Leo realizing that he’s aromantic and asexual and it’s just heteronormative thinking that makes him believe he isn’t complete without a romantic partner and finally accepting himself as he is. And again, learning that platonic love can be just as strong as romantic love.

Also, more angst to Hazel’s Hecate-like powers, maybe for a moment she thinks she’s dead again or smth like that idk.

Finally, Blood of Olympus.

First off. The Athena Parthenos. That quest would go to Percy, Annabeth… AND GROVER. FUCK YEAH BITCHES. That way, we get our original trio back with an important quest and we get to see them again.

Real Jeyna Tartarus PTSD, just, angst galore.

A longer final battle with each of the 7 having a critical role in the final battle. Nico and Hazel fighting side by side, Frank and Leo, Reyna and Piper, Jason striking lightning from above. Percy doing his thing with Annabeth leading the Greek side.

And finally… I’d honestly have an actual death. One of the 7 would die, no resurrection, no nothing.

I think it’d either be Frank or Piper.

Frank because of the set up with the stick and the underrated boy finally coming into his own and sacrificing his life for the greater good.

But the better option (to me at least in my version of the story) would be Piper. We see her grow so much through the story. First coming into her own and embracing her girly side, then being forced to step up and lead when Jason and Reyna are in Tartarus and just overall becoming a hero in her own right. (Also I feel like Piper would just have a strong bond with every single one of the 7, she’s Leo’s person, low-key besties with Reyna, she’s one of Jason’s closest friends she inspires and is always there for Hazel and Frank, etc. so it’d be all the more painful, she and Nico bond over not being straight).

Also also, it would almost close the circle of the Aphrodite hero. Silena was the first hero of Aphrodite cabin, but some people still doubt her, Piper is the second hero of Aphrodite cabin that no one will ever doubt or try to discredit. They burn a pink shroud and her siblings and every single one of the seven, along with Percy and Annabeth mourn her. And all of Camp Half-Blood silently agrees to never underestimate or take the Aphrodite kids for granted again.

The series ends with Leo keeping his promise to Calypso to go back for her with help from Frank and Hazel, Annabeth asking Reyna for help to build a New Rome in Camp Half-Blood and Jason, Nico and Percy maybe confronting the gods or smth like that.

So yeah uh… those are the things I’d change that no one asked for… yay… I stayed up until like 2 am just thinking about this don’t ask me why ajajjajajaa hope you enjoyed my ramblings!

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misandrygalore · 3 months

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heroes of olympus should’ve been a few books longer or just had less main characters im sorry i love them all but jesus f christ and jason/piper and frank/hazel should’ve just been taken out of the plot altogether like why was this a leo 7th wheel situation all the good platonic & familial dynamics are half-assed to make space for the half-assed romantic dynamics the frank/percy/hazel dynamic just got completely forgotten abt there’s constant beef over girls in the percy/frank/leo potential dynamics it’s just mentioned that hazel/annabeth/piper are a trio of besties but only annabeth/piper have a Bestie moment & half of it is annabeth talking abt how she’s scared of percy now… but no discussion between her and percy ever after the fact that we get to see the jason/percy being protective bfs dynamic was honestly annoying leo being essentially a loner on the ship bc everybody’s dating was just unnecessary and blood of olympus in general was just a hot mess the big moment percy’s supposed to face at the end with his fatal flaw was so anticlimactic even leo’s presumed death just fell flat bc there was so much else happening & the moment was so fast there was no big olympus celebration? like the ending was so rushed there wasn’t a lot of aftermath? gaea woke & got killed within like 5 minutes not a lot of battle happening it was all just build up to this huge moment they’ve been dreading since book 1 nd it’s just so. like eh whatever

#pjo

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marbleheavy · 3 years

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here are some of my Nico headcanons that nobody asked for!!

He collects things. Not just Mythomagic stuff like he did as a kid, but cool shells, and rocks, and weird glass figurines that everyone else thinks are terrifying, and books. He’s got them in jars or lined up on shelves and he just has so many things (Because for so long he had so few things that actually belonged to him that didn’t have to serve a very clear purpose, so now he just wants to keep whatever he’d like)

He reads SO much as an adult. A lot of it is nonfiction because he’s trying to catch up on what happened in the world while he was pulled out of it, but a lot of fiction too (not really fantasy though, that’s too close to home) and a lot of poetry. He can recite poems from memory and will just randomly quote them sometimes and it should be pretentious but it isn’t and his friends think it’s amazing (cue dramatically saying "till love and fame to nothingness do sink" anytime he's told he has to wait) (Also, he will rant about why Ted Hughes sucks at any point in time)

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again!! He is a Dungeon Master! He’s got a binder for all the notes for his current campaign and a notebook for ideas and special highlighters and pens that he only uses for D&D. Also, dice are definitely one of the things he collects and he keeps them in those clear, plastic bead containers with dividers and they’re sorted by number of faces and also ~vibes~ (for example, do a backflip D20 and life or death D20)

leather jacket Nico di Angelo? seen, respected, and appreciated. CARDIGAN Nico di Angelo? underrated! He has a couple oversized cardigans with buttons and big pockets that he adores. The first one he ever had he definitely stole from Will but now, whenever he comes across another similar one, he buys it. The pockets are filled with rocks and worn, mass-market paperbacks and pens. (Basically, I’m leaning hard into English Major Nico with his annotated books and glasses and cardigans) (Also, cardigan Nico and flannel Will but sometimes they swap)

He definitely cuts his own hair in the bathroom and he's gotten very good at it. He's had a range of haircuts, from long hair to a mullet to the shaved sides and fluffy top, but he always ends up back with a shaggy mop that Hazel likes to put little braids in (or sometimes pull the very back of it into two little pigtails) and with bangs that always end up in his eyes.

Sorry to reiterate the same point that's been made forever, but his wardrobe is pretty dark-toned. Obviously black, but he does like a good jewel tone, perhaps a maroon or an emerald. Anything really bright was either a gift or belongs to Will someone else. Also, gendered clothing means nothing to him. He wears what he wants to wear and he thinks it's cool as hell when he's wearing a skirt while sparring and it flares out dramatically as he twirls.

He's kind of picked up modern slang but he also uses a lot of slang from pretty much every decade he missed. It's also a 50/50 chance he's using it incorrectly. (examples include: 1) Leo says something that is definitely supposed to be funny and Nico stares at him, utterly emotionless, and says "Gag me with a spoon" in an alarmingly monotone voice, and 2) Anytime he says something snarky to Jason or Percy he starts it with "hey bestie..." and honestly, they're both just touched Nico called them "bestie" at all)

He adores Studio Ghibli movies and can be found humming the Ponyo theme song anytime he goes swimming (Will standing on the shore, looking around for Nico and he eventually spots him in the water. He wades out to Nico, all sunglasses that shouldn't look so cool and golden hair and chest, and just greets him with "Hey there, Neeks, how's my fishie in the sea?" and Nico can't decide if he wants to drown himself or kiss Will on his stupid mouth)

Speaking of movies, shortly after the Giant War, all of his friends (the Seven, Reyna, Will, probably Lou Ellen and Cecil, too) showed up at his cabin with blankets and snacks. They each brought their favorite movie or movies they think he needs to see to catch him up on the modern age. At first, he acts disgruntled that they're all there but he very quickly settles into the blanket fort Annabeth constructs and is quietly very grateful and excited that they cared enough to do this for him. They're all holed up in his cabin for a full day until they've finished every movie. (Percy brought Finding Nemo, Annabeth brought Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Piper brought Scott Pilgrim vs The World, Jason brought Captain America: The First Avenger (and Nico definitely says "that's gay" when Steve and Bucky say there "Until the end of the line" shit and everybody absolutely loses their minds), Hazel also is behind on movies but she brought either a very scary movie or Moana, Frank brought A New Hope (though he considered Brother Bear), Will brought Spirited Away, Cecil brought Back to the Future, and Lou Ellen brought The Princess Bride)

He can play the piano! He gets a piano for the Hades cabin and on nights where he can't sleep and the nightmares are really bad, he plays piano.

He will cry if he hears I Will by Mitski or Wasteland, Baby by Hozier, for different reasons but also kind of not (he wants to be loved)

Also, Nico and Dionysus being buddies! Nico jokingly says he'll host a bacchanal if Dionysus excuses him from certain camp activities and that's how Nico and friends end up wearing togas around a campfire, all very hesitantly holding cups of wine they aren't actually going to drink. It is definitely not a bacchanal, it's just a bad toga party (barely) but Dionysus accepts it and decides Nico is a Good One.

(Yes I did very badly make this stupid meme that somebody has definitely made a variation of before)

This is definitely not a complete list of headcanons but it's what I've got so far!

#nico di angelo #nico di angelo headcanon #pjo #will solace #solangelo #headcanons #heroes of olympus

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dontshootmespence · 4 years

Text

Random Chance

Summary: Y/N yields to peer pressure and Spencer loses a bet. Did fate bring them together or was it random chance?

Words: 1,689

Warnings: Gross fluff.

A/N: My next entry for @cmbingo 2020! This fulfills my meet cute square.

This was the fifth outfit change.

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” You screamed, glancing into the mirror before ripping off your shirt and pants for a sixth outfit. “Speed dating? Fuck my life. This is peer pressure. You suck.”

Under pressure, filled with nervous tension, you tended to run your mouth, and right now Piper was at the opposing end of your razor sharp sword. But she still had a smile on her face. “You need to get out there and you won’t do it yourself, so I had to push you,” she laughed, pushing passed the mountain of packed boxes and pulling one of your favorite dresses out of the closet.

“A dress? Really? For speed dating?”

Dating sucked. It was the most horrible thing ever. All you wanted was to fall into the perfect relationship and then cuddle on the couch. Was that so much to ask?

Piper laughed and stood behind you, holding the dress over your body. “Yes, it’s not an evening gown or anything. And it’s you. Just because you’re going speed dating doesn’t mean the guys you meet shouldn’t see exactly who you are.”

As much of a pain in the ass as she was, Piper was still your bestie, since you were in diapers. And she wanted the best for you. She’d pulled out your Harry Potter dress, the one with the first chapter’s words written all over. “Pair that with your cute red flats and the guys will be falling over themselves to get to you and the ones that don’t are stupid.”

You snorted and stepped into the flats, taking yet another glance into the dreaded mirror. “You know you couldn’t have picked a worse time for me to go speed dating,” you said, finally content with your outfit. Within the week, you’d be moving and starting a new job at the local community college. “Next week, dude.”

“Life’s too short to wait,” she said, playfully smacking your butt. “Plus, at least it’s at that kitschy bookstore you love. Now go take a nice relaxing walk and breathe. You’ll be fine. I gotta go to work.”

“Text me when you get there so I know you’re safe,” you call, hearing the thud of the heavy apartment door close behind her.

After grabbing your red sweater, you headed down the stairs, locking the door behind you. The bookstore was only a few blocks away and it was a beautiful day out, so you decided to take advantage of the sunny weather.

A breeze brushes through your hair as you walk and the sun beats down on your skin. There are a few other people around, but mostly people are at work. You would be too if it weren’t for the whole “new job, new place, new life” kick you were on. Decided to take a few weeks off before starting your new job.

The entrance to the Old Fox bookstore was as obnoxious as could be, at least when compared to the rest of the stores on the block. The door was painted a bright red, but it was somewhat worn by age. The store opened up during the 60s and it was still just as popular today.

Like the three bears, the store wasn’t a giant chain or a teeny tiny hole in the wall, it was just right. The walls were a muted turquoise, which you’d alway loved. Everyone seemed to think that neutral was the way to go but you’d always been a fan of in your face color - at least after your goth teen years.

Noise filled the air - not normal for this place - it was always on quiet side, but given the event you weren’t surprised. Seemed to be an equal amount of men and women, which made you feel a little better, not wanting to be outnumbered.

Since there was still a little time to waste before everything started, you figured there wasn’t any harm in looking for another book or two...or five. One of the first things you planned to put up in your new apartment was this scratch-off list, kind of like a lottery ticket, the listed nearly 200 classics. You'd read a lot of them before, but there were still some that you hadn’t, so maybe you could find one and pick it up before the nausea-inducing speed dating began.

After reading Good Omens, you’d been hankering for another Neil Gaiman book, so you slithered between the masses in the store toward the section in question. American Gods, Anansi Boys, Eternity’s Wheel, you weren’t sure which one to pick.

All - all was a good choice, right?

The colorful spines of the books called out to you, another one of Gaiman’s works. Your hand crawled along the edges of the nearby books, your hand just brushing up against someone else’s as you reached for The Graveyard Book. “Oh, sorry,” you said, staring up into the face of a beautiful stranger. He was thin and tall with delicate features, but he had a sharp jaw and deep set hazel eyes that were complemented by wavy brown hair. “I’m apparently on a Gaiman binge. Have you read any of his stuff before?”

“Yea,” he replied, eyeing the stack of books already in your hand. “American Gods, Good Omens and Eternity’s Wheel. I tend to read textbooks most of the time, but I’ve been told I should delve into more fun reading, so-”

He cut himself off and took the book off the shelf, offering it to you. “You saw it first.” Aw, gallant, too. “I’m Spencer by the way.”

“Y/N,” you said, extending your hand. “What brings you here? You live around here?”

Spencer glanced toward the tables set up for speed dating. “No, actually I lost a bet to two friends of mine and if I lost I had to go speed dating. Can’t say I’m all that comfortable with it.”

“Me either,” you laughed. “My friend Piper peer pressured me into it. I don’t drink but somehow she got me to agree to this.”

The owner of the store gave a five minute warning that speed dating was about to start. “So how long will it take you to read those?” He shifted on the balls of his feet, probably nervous, which you understood.

“Well, I have a few weeks off while I move apartments and start a new job, so these...probably four, five days.” You laughed, feeling every inch the nerd you were. “Been an avid reader since I was a kid. Why do you read textbooks though? Fiction is so much more fun.”

“I can read 20,000 words per minute and I’m always trying to absorb as much knowledge as I can. Helps with the work I do.”

“Which is?” He was cute and intriguing.

“I’m an FBI profiler for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico.”

And smart. Shit. There had to be something wrong with him. Dream guys like this didn’t grow on trees. “Impressive, Spencer. What’s your background in?”

He looked down at the ground, almost like he was embarrassed, speaking softly. “I have BAs in psychology, sociology and philosophy, as well as PhDs in mathematics, chemistry and engineering.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed. Really smart. Like stupid smart. “That’s amazing.”

“Really?”

“Of course!” How could that not be amazing? “Why?”

“It’s just that people normally think I’m a freak for having so many.”

You wanted to punch whoever made him feel that way. “Definitely not a freak, just insanely impressive considering you’re so young.” He couldn’t have been much older than you. Maybe five years at the most.

“I started college when I was 12.”

As the owner called out to start the most awkward dating experience known to man, you turned to Spencer. “Hey, would you maybe want to get out of here? Go grab a cup of coffee? I mean, we both had friends insist we come here, but we never said we actually had to go through with it.”

Tension fell from his shoulders, like he could finally be at ease. “I’d like that. I’m really not good at this whole date thing,” he said nervously. “Just a heads up.”

Both of you shuffled over to the register, so you could pay for your books. “Neither am I, don’t worry. I’d prefer to just magically be in a relationship and not have to work for it, you know?”

“Absolutely, so Y/N, what do you do for a living? What’s the new job?”

Now it was your turn to be embarrassed, well not embarrassed, intimidated. “It’s definitely not as fancy as FBI profiler. I have my master’s degree in English literature. I’m going for a PhD too, but to pay for the half of my doctorate that scholarship won’t, I’m teaching. First, it was an online course through a University in New Hampshire where I’d travel occasionally, even though I live her, but now I got a job at the local community college.”

“That’s awesome,” he said, seeming genuinely interested. “What’s the focus on your thesis?”

So few people asked you that. Most people’s eyes glazed over when you talked about books. Everyone except your mom. “Analyzing Othello through the lends of racism as it relates to the Elizabethan period.”

After handing the cashier your money, you and Spencer walked out together, talking about your favorite Shakespeare plays, when he bumped into someone. A muscular, equally tall black guy. “Hey, kid. Funny meeting you here. Aren’t you supposed to be fulfilling your end of the deal? You lose, you speed date?”

He was one of Spencer’s friends. That much was obvious. But Spencer looked 1001% done with his bullshit - whatever it was. “Y/N, this is my friend Derek Morgan. We work together at the FBI. Morgan, this is Y/N.”

“Well, hello, Y/N.” A charmer.

“Good to meet you,” you replied on a laugh. “Technically, he didn’t go speed dating. Neither did I and I promised my friend Piper I would, but...he is leaving with a date.” You grabbed Spencer’s hand, a jolt of something awesome moving through you at his touch. “We’re going for a cup of coffee now actually.”

“Yea, so as you see, I’m the one busy with a woman right now.” Morgan seemed quite the ladies man and Spencer looked mighty proud of himself right now. “See you tomorrow at work?”

“See you tomorrow,” Morgan replied, a note of surprise in his voice. “Nice to meet you Y/N.”

“You too. I sense we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

When you both walked away, you pulled The Graveyard Book out of your bag and handed it to Spencer. “You read this first. I think this date might go pretty well, but if you have this, then you have to return it to me and I’m guaranteed to see you again.”

Spencer smiled, his fingers tightening around yours. “I’ll have to thank Morgan for being a pain in my ass.”

“So, you lost a bet?”

“Yea, he bet I couldn’t go a day without spouting statistics and I lost. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Piper just peer pressured me. Guess I’ll have to thank her too.”

The strong, heady scent of coffee began to fill your nostrils as you approached the cafe. When he opened the door, he seemed to finally catch a glimpse of your dress. “Wait, is that the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone on your dress?”

“Yup. I’m a Slytherin by the way.”

“Oh, you definitely won’t need a guarantee to see me again, as long as you want to, I think I’m smitten.”

Piper was going to get a big hug later. Maybe dinner. And lots of wine.

#cmbingo #cmbingo2020 #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #meet cute #dontshootmespence

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