#the-world-is-on-a-diagonal

[biggrimace]

Back Pain | Fred Weasley

Part 1 / 2

Part: 1, 2

Summary: You are heavily pregnant with your and Fred's first child and are experiencing some back pain that grows as the day goes on. Fred worries that you may be in labour, and it isn't until your water breaks that you take those concerns seriously.

Warnings: pregnant reader, talk about pain

Word Count: ~2101

—

You had been uncomfortable all day, which isn’t anything new considering you’d been uncomfortable the last six or so months, but this felt different. It started around four in the morning; you were awoken by the feeling of your lower back cramping, so you began tossing and turning, hoping to find a comfortable position, but to no avail. Fred was awakened by your movements and the gentle groans that followed. He was quick to check on you and nodded understandingly once you told him about your back. He asked you to turn to your other side and massaged the painful spot for you without a moment of hesitation. It took only a few seconds before you felt relief, in fact, it was so comforting that it actually soothed you back to sleep.

Now, it was one in the afternoon, and the cramping was back with a vengeance. You didn’t think much of it after noticing your belly dropped while standing in front of the bathroom mirror. You accepted that it was just an annoying consequence of the new position the baby was in, but you’d been cramping since eleven, and it was beginning to drive you insane. You tried ice packs, hot water bottles, pain relief potions, a warm bath, stretching, and anything else you could think of. You even asked Fred for more massages, which failed to provide the same comfort they did last night. Fred was beginning to worry about you, and in the very back of his mind, a thought buzzed about you possibly being in labour. You brushed him off multiple times throughout the morning, saying they were only Braxton hicks contractions or false labour. Your lack of concern for it soothed him slightly since you knew your body better than him, so instead of rushing you to the hospital like he wanted, he let the day go on. However, he was still worried, so after your bath, Fred decided the best thing for both of you was for you to come with him to the shop. After greeting George upon your arrival Fred guided you into his office and laid you on the futon he had in there in case of late nights or the odd overnight stays. He brought you your pregnancy pillow, a hot water bottle, an ice pack, snacks, water, and more potions. All to keep you comfortable and close as he runs the store just downstairs. He made sure to check on you every 30 minutes and if he couldn’t or was busy with a customer he would send up George. You, on the other hand, were trying to sleep off the pain.

—

At around three, your back felt like it was on fire, and you couldn't ignore it like you had been. Fred and George had been engrossed by the unexpected rush of patrons flooding in downstairs, their frequent checkups slowly dwindling down to none as the shop grew more busy. You were so frustrated and overwhelmed by the pain that you actually began to cry, wishing for it to stop so you could just relax. You tried so hard to keep your suffering quiet, not wanting to interrupt your husband's busy day, but you couldn't help it, and when your back cramped up again you were ready to roll out of bed and get him. Luckily, just as you went to roll Fred walked in with a tray holding a cup of tea and some of your favourite sweet treats. He froze when he saw you trying to sit up, your expression twisted with pain and your face covered in tears. He wasted no time in placing the tray on his desk and pulling his chair beside the small bed, taking a seat and hushing you comfortingly.

Love, I’m really starting to get worried...

He admitted as he sat in front of you. One hand moving stay hairs from your face and the other rubbing your belly. You let yourself fall back into your pillow and snuggled into it, sniffling.

It hurts so much, Freddie… I just want it to stop…

You whined. You were never good with pain and it was starting to really mess with you emotionally. Fred looked at you sympathetically, worry hidden in his furrowed brows.

Maybe we should go to the hospital yn.

He suggested again, looking down to your belly. You just shook your head.

I already told you, they’ll just send us home. I’m not in labour. My water didn’t break, and I don’t think I’m having real contractions; I’m just really uncomfortable.

You explained and tried pushing yourself to sit up again. After seeing you struggle, Fred swooped in to help. He gently grabbed your upper arm with one hand and wrapped his other arm around you to help support your weight. Once you were sitting, he relaxed back into his chair.

Well then what can I do?

He asked helplessly, leaning forward, his arms on his legs. The concern in his voice and the love in his eyes made yours start to water again, damn hormones. Then, there was another flare-up that forced a sudden gasp out of you and caused more tears to flow down your cheeks, this time due to the pain. Fred jumped a bit at this and reached toward you. You just cried as you leaned forward into him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, stretching out your back, and he wrapped his around your torso, massaging your back gently. After a moment the pain subsided back into a dull ache and you found yourself relishing in the small relief this position was providing.

Are you ok love?

Fred asked once your cries died down into gentle sniffles. You nodded, tightening your hold on him.

Ya. I’m ok. This feels really good.

You admitted. Fred smiled to himself and kissed your temple, happy to be providing some form of comfort to you. It only lasted a few seconds, though, before that once comfortable position became exactly the opposite. You pulled back, both of you releasing each other, and Fred watched as you stretched, cracking your back.

I think I just need to move. I’ve been lying down all day.

You said defeated. Fred paused for a moment to think, then nodded. He stood from his chair and reached down towards you. You grabbed each other’s forearms and worked together to get you on your feet. He didn’t let go immediately and looked into your eyes.

I’ll take you out to the shop but only for a few minutes. I don’t want you getting overwhelmed or shoved around by the crowd that’s out there. We’ll say hi to George and come right back, okay?

He demanded lovingly. You just nodded and leaned up to peck his lips. You released each other, and you waddled out of the room, holding your back as you did. Fred followed close behind, the panic stored in the back of his mind beginning to overtake him. He sighed, running his hand through his hair, as you opened the door and made your way out into the wonderful chaos of the shop. George was quick to notice your appearance, watching as you took a moment to look around and interact with a few patrons, Fred keeping a closed distance.

I see she’s up now..

George said as he came up behind his brother both twins watching you closely as you talked with an older woman, most likely buying a gift for her child. Fred sighed defeated.

Yeah… she is…

George didn’t hesitate to ask about you, and Fred answered to the best of his ability, filling him in on his rising anxiety and what you had been going through. George could practically feel the mental spiral Fred was going through and decide to take on the grunt of the days work so that his twin could be there for his family. Fred obviously refused at first but after getting shut down by George he agreed, thanking him for being so understanding.

—

It was six now. The pain had gotten much worse and more prominent. It came quicker and lasted longer, and you began to get worried that you might be in labour like Fred had suggested but decided to keep those concerns to yourself. Fred was going over some inventory paperwork for the week, and you once again found your spot beside him on the futon. You suddenly had the urge to pee and groaned, knowing you would have to stand once more. Fred turned at your groan, and you waved him off. Over the last few hours you’ve developed this new method of conversation, you’d groan or cry, he’d get worried and check on you, and you’d tell him you’re fine either verbally or with a gesture. You finally managed to pull yourself off the bed and began walking to the bathroom in the office when a sharp pain ripped through your lower abdomen, causing you to violently gasp and double over. You had nothing to support yourself and crumpled to the floor on your hands and knees, one of your arms cradling your belly. Fred jumped in his chair at the sound of you hitting the floor and whipped around to you. At the sight of you on the ground clutching your belly, he threw his paperwork aside and jumped out of his chair, running over to you.

Merlin yn! What happened? Did you fall?!

He yelled, crouching down and placing one of his hands on your back, the other on top of yours, which was holding your belly. You couldn’t answer, you were in to much pain. Fred was fully panicking now, analyzing your whole body, checking if you were ok, and looking for a way to help you. That’s when he noticed the wetness soaking through your pants and froze.

Freddie- I think you were right- I think it's actually happening.

You whine through the pain that is beginning to subside. As you caught your breath, you looked over at your husband. His eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open.

Freddie, sweetie, we should go.

You said, sitting back on your feet and breathing heavily. He still didn’t respond.

Fred!

You yelled, growing frustrated with his shocked state. He suddenly snapped back into reality and nodded frantically. In a moment, he was up and sprinting out of the office. He screamed to George that the baby was coming and to start closing up before apparating to your apartment to grab the hospital bag. You crawled over to the futon and propped yourself into a position where you could use it to support your weight as you stood up. Just as you stood straight, another contraction ripped through your body, sending you back into a position of leaning over onto the bed. You couldn’t stop the guttural moan that came from you as you rocked slightly, going through this new kind of pain. You missed it when you just had a sore back.

Where are you, Fred!?

You called out, desperate for your husband. You wanted to get to the hospital now. Fred apparated into the office with the large duffel bag in hand and approached your shaking form. George ran in a moment later, the shop successfully closed and all patrons kicked out. Fred shoved the bag into George’s chest and then bent down, guiding you to wrap one of your arms around his shoulders while he wrapped his arm around your waist. You grabbed onto his shirt with white knuckles, and he quickly made his way out of the office and down the steps of shops yelling at George to get the flying car. Fred, being the overly protective and prepared father-to-be he was, had asked Arthur if he could borrow it a week ago, knowing your due date was approaching and you would need a quick escape to the hospital.

It’s alright love you're doing wonderfully. George will be here soon with the car and then we’re going straight to St. Mungo's.

Fred reassured you although it sounded more self-directed. Just as you made it to the bottom of the stairs you heard a honk from outside the shop. George was sitting in the driver's seat waiting anxiously. Fred practically had to drag you outside, due to the contraction that was beginning to tear through you and gently guided you into the back seat before taking the spot next to you. As soon as he was sure you were secure, George sped off into the sky and took you to the hospital to deliver your baby.

—

For more fics: biggrimace

[joka13]

FANFICTION (REQUEST): George Weasley x Squib Reader (Female) - Empathy - Part 2

WARNINGS: mentions of death

You had an unexpectedly wonderful time.

You opened your birthday gifts, receiving a book from your mother, a scarf (knitted by Mrs. Weasley) from the Weasley family, and a simple though lovely pair of silver earrings mailed from your grandmother.

It seemed childish at first, but you enjoyed having "Happy Birthday" sung to you as your mother carried your cake to the table. You closed your eyes, making a wish as you blew out the candles and everyone cheered.

After being dished a slice, you brought your dessert and new book to the living room couch. You took your sweet time opening to the first page, smiling at the popping sound of the book's fresh binding and running your fingers over the clean, smooth paper.

Soft chuckling startled you away from your delight. You hadn't noticed George, who stood in the doorway to the dining room. He leaned against the frame casually with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on you.

"Oh, excuse me! Am I interrupting something?" he teased.

"No, no!" you laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed that he caught you in a vulnerable moment. You closed your book and set it on a side table for later. "Come in."

He did. George sat down on the other end of the sofa in a slouch, sighing leisurely. "What I'd give to feel the way you looked just now," he sniggered. He meant it jokingly, but the distant look in George's eyes abruptly reminded you of his brother's passing, making his comment seem very sad.

You laughed, trying to keep the mood light. "Nothing makes me so happy as opening a brand-new book. There's something so... satisfying about it."

George nodded. "Hmm... I think I remember feeling similarly when I was younger every time I opened a chocolate frog. I used to collect—"

You gasped in excitement, cutting him off. "I remember those! My dad used to bring them home for me... every now and then..." You trailed off as you remembered vaguely your father telling you about a particular chocolate frog card featuring a famous witch.

"Ah, that's right. You're... probably not buying much wizard candy these days," said George, and you're thankful that he continued the topic of sweets instead of your father.

"Nope," you said bluntly. "Even if I tried, I don't think I could. I assume I'm not allowed."

George surprised you with a disbelieving snort. "There's no way you wouldn't be allowed. You're a... a squib..." He paused, as if expecting you to be offended, but you only waited patiently for him to go on. "Not a muggle. As far as I know, no one should reject you, especially candy shops."

"Really?"

"Really. And if they did, it'd most likely be for your own safety." He laughed. "Now that I think about it, I definitely wouldn't want you in my shop without my close supervision."

"You own a candy shop?" you asked in astonishment.

He chuckled smugly, taking pleasure in your amaze. "I do! Well, I sell more than candy. It's a joke shop really."

"Oh, I wish I could see it!" you groaned and imagined all of the fantastic things you were missing out on.

George's expression changed to something of consideration. "Now that you know you're allowed, the only reason you don't is because you have no way of getting there, correct?" he asked.

"...Pardon?"

He gave a lop-sided smile and sat up straight, leaning toward you in excitement. "How would you like to come with me? To my shop I mean. I can even show you 'round all of Diagon Alley if you'd like!"

"Really?"

George laughed. "Really!"

"I would like that very much!" you said, grinning ecstatically, but your smile began to fade away. "Although... I'll have to talk over it with my mother first. She worries about me enough already..." It was then that you started to worry. You'd always dreamed of exploring places where witches and wizards gathered, let alone the famed Diagon Alley. But, since the Weasley's made you feel so happy that night, you'd forgotten for a time about your new little fear of magic until now.

George seemed to notice your anxiety. "Well, you can tell her that you'll be in good hands," he said cheerily. "I know that spot like the back of my hand, and we'll only do what you want to."

His words comforted you only somewhat. It wasn't that you didn't trust George; he was a childhood friend. You were more concerned about the other wizarding folk you might encounter in Diagon Alley.

At that moment, your mother walked into the room carrying a full tea tray. "Hello," she said as she set the tray down on the mini table in front of you and George. "I thought this would go nicely with the cake."

"Thanks, Mrs. y/l/n!" said George, moving to pour you and himself a cup.

"Yes, thank you," you said, though it was only out of politeness. Something about the way Mum was acting seemed suspicious.

She nodded. "You're very welcome." When you expected her to leave and go back to conversing with George's parents, she didn't. "I couldn't help but overhear something about a trip to Dragon Alley," Mum said, and you could tell she was trying to mask enthusiasm.

Ah, there it is, you thought to yourself.

"It's Diagon Alley. And yeah, George offered to take me. That is, if it sits well with you," you said. You weren't yet entirely sure if you wanted to go, but Mum's opinion would solidify your decision either way.

"Oh, of course!" Mum responded, all too encouraging, and you wondered if she had been intentionally eves-dropping on your conversation with George. "You are an adult now, your own person! You don't need me to tell you what to do or not do. Just stay safe and have fun! Enjoy the tea!" And with that, Mum went back to sit with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in the dining room.

George sipped his tea noisily to catch your attention, eyeing you with raised eyebrows.

You chuckled awkwardly. "I suppose that's out of the way now..."

"My schedule is open on Thursday," he said and proceeded to drink his tea whilst staring at you.

"Hmm... Alright. Let's do it."

"I'll pick you up at 10:00?"

"That's fine."

"It's a date then!" George stated gladly, placing his empty cup back on the tray.

You weren't sure of what he meant exactly when he said "date", but all that really mattered to you at that moment was the fact that you had plans to visit Diagon Alley. The Diagon Alley: only the biggest wizarding shopping district in the UK! You could scarcely believe it.

You took a sip of your tea.

During the next forty-five minutes, you listened to George list all the things you could do on Thursday while at Diagon Alley. It made you so excited that, by the time Mr. Weasley came to tell George it was time for them to go, your face hurt from smiling so excessively.

You and Mum bid the Weasley's goodnight, and each of the three Weasley's bid you one more happy birthday before leaving.

"See you Thursday," George said as he was the last to step off your front porch, and you were taken aback when his smile disturbed the butterflies in your stomach. They had been dormant for so long, you had almost forgotten what it felt like.

"I look forward to it," you replied, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from grinning stupidly, and closed the door. You turned around to come face to face with Mum, who was all but jumping up and down with eagerness.

"So? Tell me what's happening!" she demanded.

"He's gonna come get me at 10:00 on Thursday, and we'll just go from there!" you responded, and your own giddiness surprised you. You then pointed an accusatory finger at Mum. "Don't think I didn't know exactly what you were doing with that tea nonsense!" you laugh.

She giggled, shrugging shamelessly. "I've got to play my part as your mother! You might have chickened out if I hadn't."

"Wha— 'chickened out'?" you repeated.

Mum nodded. "You were this close," she said, holding her fingers together in a pinch. "Ever since you graduated highschool and your father passed away, you've really made an effort to hide away in this house. I want you to get out and... grow!"

You opened your mouth to make a rebuttal, but Mum interrupted.

"And you want it, too," she added. "You just don't know it yet."

"I understand where you're coming from, but I don't imagine getting a tour of the magical world is an easy start to 'getting out'," you snorted. "Aren't you a little bit... you know... afraid?"

Mum took a moment to think over your question. "Well, if I'm being honest, no," she said. "The threat that You-Know-Who... Voldemort and his followers posed is gone. Sure, there are still bad people, but that's just how the world is no matter where you are. You can't afford to be scared of reality, my dear."

You sighed. "I know. You're right."

"I always am," Mum chuckled. "I'm not sure why you were angry at me. I helped get you a date with a cute boy." She winked and nudged you in the ribs.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks a million," you snickered, rolling your eyes. "For the record, I'm an adult now; I don't date cute boys. I date handsome, young men."

Mum laughed. "That's more like it!" She then kissed you on the forehead, following with a hug. "Goodnight, y/n. And happy birthday."

TAG LIST: @tomhockstetter7-111 @jasm-1ne @costheticbabe @luthien-elvenia-asher @megablonde22 @thecuteavocado @weasleylady92 @websfromallthespiders @rubyintheforest @weasleylover4eva @georgeweasleyslostearhq @im-coolrat @them-cute-boys @xmadigurlx @keirasinbin @huayan @deathtonumber7 @elmolovesw33d @coffeebeans11 @dumb4person

[azspam]

Spectator screencaps get to go here too. #MyMines

[theaskywalker]

Imagine working together with your friends Fred and George at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes

Masterlist

[aesthetic--mood]

Harry Potter Summer Aesthetic

[acciomelissa]

You stole my cauldron but you can’t have my heart” -Celestina Warbeck and the Banshees

Harry Potter

[thaliagrayce]

Contrasting Colors

Link: ao3 Pairing: Jason Grace/Nico di Angelo Fandom: Percy Jackson & the Olympians Tags: post-Heroes of Olympus, Not TOA compliant, fluff, jealousy (but like only a little bit)

Word Count: 2,998

Summary:

There was a stranger on the subway who had been staring at them on and off since they had boarded the train. That wasn’t too unusual, but it was rubbing Nico the wrong way today. He shifted from one foot to the other as their car passed from the light of the last station into the darkness of the tunnel system once more. Maybe it was the fact that the stranger was a boy who looked just a little older than him. And taller. Broader, too, although he was almost certainly less experienced at actually using the muscle filling out his expensive name-brand athlesiure. He’d been looking between Nico and Jason since they left the shopping center they’d spent the afternoon at, but mostly he’d been looking at Jason. (or; Nico and Jason's journey to self-expression and belonging through really dumb shirts.)

There was a stranger on the subway who had been staring at them on and off since they had boarded the train. That wasn’t too unusual—Nico and Jason had both lived as demigods for long enough that a little staring wasn’t going to ruin their day unless it came with violence—but it was rubbing Nico the wrong way today. He shifted from one foot to the other as their car passed from the light of the last station into the darkness of the tunnel system once more.

Maybe it was the fact that the stranger was a boy who looked just a little older than him. And taller. Broader, too, although he was almost certainly less experienced at actually using the muscle filling out his expensive name-brand athlesiure. He’d been looking between Nico and Jason since they left the shopping center they’d spent the afternoon at, but mostly he’d been looking at Jason.

Nico shifted again, hyperaware of the space between them. Were they standing close enough? Was it too close? They had walked onto the subway car together, but it would be plausible that they just happened to be standing next to each other while they were waiting for the train. The platform had been crowded, it could have looked like coincidence.

Nico knew that he and Jason didn’t look like a matched set. There was about a foot’s difference in height when they were both standing straight, and Nico almost always made it worse by slouching. Their resting expressions were completely different now that Jason’s updated prescription let him see clearly without squinting at the world. And, most noticeable, there was the difference in style: Nico was comfortable in his all black, and Jason was wearing one of the colorful and dorky t-shirts he’d bought on this trip.

(“Look, Nico!” he had said after dragging them both into a store that was about 50% anime merchandise. “It’s me!” He held up the shirt for Nico to see: a pale blue t-shirt with a white cloud-shaped breast pocket. The cloud had a cutesy blushing smiley face on it. Nico raised one eyebrow in question, and Jason pulled the pocket open. The fabric underneath the cloud was printed with a rainbow. It was a terrible joke, and Nico had laughed anyway.)

Nico glanced at the shirt—which Jason liked so much he’d found a bathroom and changed into it as soon as they left the store—out of the corner of his eye. The white of the little cloud almost glowed in the terrible subway lighting. It was so bright, and Jason looked tall and handsome and at ease, and that boy across the train car was looking at him and Nico kept noticing.

Nico brought his right hand up and fidgeted with the blue bandanna he’d bought and tied around his neck on an impulse as they were leaving the mall. The train slowed down to approach another stop and Nico braced himself not to stumble. He wasn’t used to wearing anything around his neck, but it wasn’t terrible. He could maybe do it more often.

On his left, Jason brushed his knuckles against Nico’s in a signal they had developed early on in their relationship, when they figured out that their comfort levels with PDA were decidedly different. I would hold your hand right now if you wanted me to, it said. Nico turned to give him a smile.

Jason was looking down at him, head tilted in a way that reminded Nico that he’d technically been raised by wolves. There was some concern in between his brows. He was completely focused on Nico. It was possible that he hadn’t even noticed the boy across the way, or that he’d dismissed him as mortal as quickly as Nico had and then not thought about him again.

Nico knew that, if he wanted, he could take Jason’s hand right now and prove to all the random strangers in this train car that they were a matched set. He could tell the boy that might or might not have been checking Jason out to fuck off without even opening his mouth. A tiny, possessive part of him wanted to.

Instead, he took a deep breath in and brushed his knuckles back. They both heard the thank you, I love you that implied. The taste of jealousy was bitter and Nico didn’t want to let it linger. He let the breath out.

---

This whole endeavor had started about two months ago, just after they started dating. Nico had been accompanying Jason on a lot of his Pontifex Maximus duties, meeting up with minor gods and drafting temples across the country. Nico’s shadow travel got them places on time and Jason’s flight got them back to where they were staying when Nico got too tired to jump again.

That particular day had been a bit rough. Nico had jumped the both of them halfway across the country to Nowhere, Iowa and was already exhausted when a hydra melted out of the cornfield next to them. Nico was no help in the ensuing fight.

Jason didn’t really need the help, though. He managed to kill it on his own in under ten minutes while Nico slumped against a nearby bale of hay, sleepily cheering him on.

Unfortunately, killing the hydra was not a neat process, and it managed to get him a few times with its acid spit. They worked together and managed to do a halfway decent job of burying the final head underneath Nico’s hay bale before Jason realized that half of his shirt had melted off during the fight.

He had only packed pajamas.

They managed to find Jason a new (ish) plain shirt at the one Goodwill in town quickly, but Jason seemed reluctant to leave. He kept looking back at one of the clothing racks they had passed by, even after they paid and were heading out of the store. Nico gave in to his curiosity.

“What was it?”

“Huh?” Jason asked. He tore his eyes away from the rack one last time and pulled the door open, holding it to let Nico pass first.

“You keep looking back. What caught your eye?”

“Oh, I…” Jason smiled. They headed off toward their motel at a decent clip; they didn’t have a whole lot of time to check in, have Jason change, and leave again to get to their meeting with the eccentric minor agricultural god. “It was nothing. There was a shirt that made me smile.”

“Oh?” Nico prompted.

“Yeah. It was kind of goofy, y’know. Jelly bean print.”

Nico huffed a laugh. “I can picture you in that.”

“Really?”

Nico raised an eyebrow. He had planned to tease Jason, but the hopeful look on his boyfriend’s face stopped him. Raised eyebrows and a hint of a smile and that light in his eyes were all because of a jelly bean shirt?

“Sure,” Nico settled on instead. “Why not? Goofy print for a goofy guy.”

It was evidently the right answer. Jason’s smile grew as they walked into the motel, checked in, and shuffled off to their room. Nico sat on one of the twin beds with his chin in his hands as Jason took over the bathroom to change.

Technically, Nico wasn’t needed here at all. He usually tagged along to these meetings to have something to do, but he knew that if he even hinted he might be feeling tired…

When Jason got out of the bathroom, Nico was lying face down on the bed. Jason fretted and fussed and insisted that Nico stay behind to take a nap, as Nico knew he would. As soon as he left, Nico got up and put his boots back on. The meeting probably wouldn’t take more than half an hour and he wanted to be sneaky, so he had to be fast.

Besides, if he was quick enough, maybe he really could take a nap after he got back from the thrift store.

---

The Jelly Bean Shirt was the most obnoxious shirt in the entire world and Jason loved it. It was a short sleeved button down that was just a touch too small across the shoulders for Jason, which meant that he often wore it open over a different shirt.

The only other shirts Jason owned were either bright purple, bright orange, or the solid green shirt they’d bought for the meeting. Jason very quickly became the easiest person to spot at camp. Leo and Piper teased him about it, but he took it with a smile and continued wearing the shirt.

The next time they left camp for Pontifex business, Jason asked if they could go shopping again afterward.

“I know it’s not really necessary,” he said, sheepish, “but it’s kind of nice. I’ve never really picked out my own clothes before.”

Nico stopped in the middle of rifling through racks of secondhand sweatshirts. Had… had he ever seen Jason in anything but camp shirts? He really tried to think. The t-shirt for the meeting last time didn’t count, it was just the closest functional replacement clothing for the job. They’d picked it out specifically to be unobtrusive. And then there was…

Nope, then there was the Jelly Bean Shirt and nothing else. Jason had been raised by the Legion and dumped into Camp Half Blood and he’d never had the chance to be anything but a representative of those two places, or of his father, or of the minor gods.

Nico might have dressed himself like a walking Hot Topic advertisement, but he chose to do that. He’d been choosing how to dress himself since he was ten. He looked at Jason’s sheepish expression out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re dating the son of the god of wealth. Why are we looking in Goodwill?”

“Target doesn’t have this kind of selection,” Jason answered.

“I can afford Armani, why would we go to Target.”

Jason eyed a sweater that might have been handmade, complete with giant pink applique teddy bear on the belly. He held it up to his chest and wilted when he noticed it was about three sizes too small for him.

“Armani would look too… business. Probably.” Jason put the sweater back and moved on to a more summery section. “I don’t know anything about fashion, but big labels like that sound way too fancy.”

“Right, you prefer designers who are more in touch with their inner six-year-old girl.”

Jason shrugged. “It makes me more approachable, doesn’t it? I’m not the Son of Jupiter, ex-Praetor of the Twelfth Legion, Titan Slayer, Champion of Juno, Hero of Olympus, Pontifex Maximus like that. I’m that guy with the unicorn shirt.” He then pulled out a t-shirt that had pom-poms dangling from every hem. “Is this too much?”

Jason held the stupidest shirt Nico had ever seen in his life up to his chest and Nico realized he might be in love with him. He bought the shirt.

---

And he’d kept taking Jason out, on dates and on trips to make his wardrobe feel like him, and that’s what landed them on the subway that morning. They’d gotten as far as they could on public transport, then clasped hands and slipped into the shadows.

“What’s with the scarf?” Jason tugged at the bottom of the bandanna once they settled into the familiar comfort of Cabin 13. Nico untied it to let Jason take a closer look, and to get the fabric off of his neck. It was, other than Jason himself, the brightest spot in the room. That felt like a pretty apt metaphor.

Gods, Nico didn’t want to admit it. He was working on being able to talk about his feelings, but it still sucked every time.

 Jason never made fun of him, though. Nico took comfort in that fact as he staunchly refused to make eye contact, instead focusing on taking out and folding the new black skinny jeans he’d gotten to replace his old black skinny jeans. (He’d been wearing the old ones last time he attempted the climbing wall. It hadn’t gone well.)

“You like color.” It wasn’t a real explanation, he knew, but it was all that would come out at the moment. Nico smoothed away a few more wrinkles in the jeans.

“I like the way you dress, too, though. You look really good in black.”

Nico hid his reddening face behind his hair as he shoved the meticulously folded jeans into the drawer with the rest of his balled-up pants. He knew that. Jason, once he realized that it wouldn’t scare Nico away, was not shy with compliments. Nico knew very well how much Jason liked the way he looked. It was a lot sometimes, but it was… nice. It was really nice.

“I. Thanks.” Nico took in a breath and shut the dresser drawer, then stood up and let it out. He could do this. He turned toward Jason, who was still holding the bandanna. It almost blended in with the light blue of Jason’s new shirt. They weren’t exactly the same shade, but they were close enough to suit Nico’s purposes.

“We look really different. And that’s okay, I’m happy that you’re finding clothes that you like. But we don’t…” Nico walked over and took the bandanna from Jason’s hands to better demonstrate his point. “We look really different,” he ended up repeating. “And I just wanted.” It was suddenly hard to form words around the lump in his throat. When had that gotten there? This wasn’t a big deal, what was he even upset about?

“Can I hold your hand?”

Nico looked up. Jason had a hand extended to him and obvious concern furrowing his brow. Nico stepped past the hand and fitted his body against Jason’s instead. Without other people around, he didn’t have to worry about spite or jealousy or whatever motivating him. Everything was a lot simpler when it was just the two of them. Nico could take what comfort he wanted.

Jason wrapped his arms around Nico, just like he knew he would.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Nico mumbled into the blushy cloud on Jason’s shirt. It still smelled like the mall.

“The scarf looked nice on you, but you don’t need to wear color to be beautiful.”

Nico groaned and buried his face in his boyfriend’s chest. “I know.”  He was starting to feel stupid for his insecurity. Jason didn’t act like this for anyone else, why would a few stares bother him? The arms around him tightened.

“Besides, I think we look cute together like this.”

Nico looked up at him without bothering to step back at all. His chin was probably digging into Jason’s sternum, but that was Jason’s fault for being so tall. Jason looked down to meet his eyes and smiled.

(Nico was never, ever going to tell him how funny he looked from this angle.)

“Mismatching is cute, Piper keeps telling me that. It’s cute to wear mismatched socks. I think we’re cute together.”

Nico snorted. “I saw Piper’s bunk on the Argo II, I think she just can’t find matching socks.”

Jason pulled a face. “You might have a point. But Piper had one, too. A little variety and a little difference is good.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nico’s hairline. “I think we look perfect together.”

“Sap.” The hug and the conversation and the visual angle all made Nico feel a lot better. Or maybe it was just being around Jason, honestly. Having honest conversations.

Maybe talking about his feelings wasn’t the worst.

The next day, the two of them had plans to head to New Rome to visit friends and work on Pontifex business. They were supposed to meet up at Thalia’s tree after breakfast and packing.

As usual, Jason was already waiting when Nico climbed up the hill. He smiled at Nico and extended a hand for him to take.

He was wearing one of the shirts they’d found yesterday—a pink button down with little dinosaurs printed all over it—under a denim jacket that had probably started its life black, but had faded into a dark grey over the years.

That was new. As in, that was new since yesterday afternoon. Nico would have remembered a jacket like that. He took Jason’s hand, but didn’t stop staring at the jacket.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Huh?” Jason brought his other hand up to fiddle with one of the buttons on the jacket, and Nico noticed that his nails had been messily painted black.

It looked… He looked…

“Oh! The jacket.” Jason laughed and it sounded a little nervous. “It’s Piper’s, actually, but she said I could have it. It was too big for her anyway, she was just planning on cutting it up for one of her projects. Said I’d get more use out of it.”

Nico stepped forward and ran his free hand over the denim. He didn’t comment on Jason’s obvious nerves.

“I like it,” he said. “You look good.”

Jason’s shoulders relaxed and he gave Nico a little grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you like it?” he asked. This effort alone was enough to squash like, half of Nico’s insecurities, but this wouldn’t do any good if he were limiting Jason’s self-expression just like the Camps did.

“I do. It makes me feel more connected to someone pretty important to me.”

“Good.” Nico smiled at him. “I’m gonna steal it so often.”

“Hey! That defeats the purpose!”

Nico’s hand wandered to the jacket’s collar and he tugged on it, urging Jason downward. “Hmm,” he hummed into a kiss. “I’ll give it back sometimes. Don’t worry.”

Jason was smiling like a dope. He wound his free arm around Nico’s waist.

“That’s okay, then. We can share.”

Nico liked the sound of that. He kissed Jason one last time and tugged him into the shadows.

[arsenic-aftertaste]

[domhnallgleesonhaven]

Domhnall at Wizarding World of Harry Potter Diagon Alley grand opening in Orlando Florida, 2014.

“I’m a pessimist by nature, so it’s always the worst things that come to mind first, whenever you make a decision, or have a decision to make.”

[fizzing-whizzbees]

[joka13]

FANFICTION (REQUEST): George Weasley x Squib Reader (Female) - Empathy - Part 3

WARNINGS: none

The wait was only a few days, but Thursday couldn't come soon enough. And by the time it did come, you were more than ready to go with George to Diagon Alley.

You sat in the dining room at 9:30 a.m. with your shoes on and purse hung over your shoulder, staring at the clock on the wall. George had said he'd pick you up at 10:00, but you wanted to be prepared in case he arrived early.

You anxiously fiddled with your hands. You were certainly excited for what the day ahead might hold, but, of course, you couldn't help but worry something would go wrong. You wished you could talk to Mum to distract yourself, but she was at work.

You then realized that George wouldn't pick you up in a car. He was a wizard, after all, and would travel by other means. This made you even more anxious as you anticipated how you might get to Diagon Alley. Would you apparate? You remembered that was your father's preferred method. Could you use floo powder? You once saw your father use it in the fireplace. Should you get a fire started just in case? George would need to bring his own powder...

Three knocks on the front door startled you. You quickly got to your feet, but stopped yourself from rushing and took in a deep breath to calm your rapidly beating heart. You tried your best to walk casually to the door and put on a smile as you opened it.

"Good morning, y/n! You ready?" George greeted you enthusiastically. You were pleased to see him wearing fairly casual clothes: a pair of blue jeans, a light sweater, and walking shoes. You had wondered earlier as you got dressed for the day if he would wear something more... wizardy because you'd be going to a wizarding place. You had worried that you'd stick out in your muggle clothes, but seeing George's outfit made you much less concerned about that.

"Good morning, George!" you replied, grinning wider. "I am!" You then noticed a little, blue car that was unfamiliar to you parked by the curb. "Is that... your car?" you asked, puzzled.

"Indeed it is!" George laughed. "Though, I don't know how to drive it... legally. According to muggle laws at least. It flies, but I thought we... you could drive it the normal way if that'd make you more comfortable."

George's thoughtfulness touched you, and much of your uneasiness slipped away. "Thank you... I really appreciate that actually. Wait one moment while I get my driver's license." You went back inside to grab your license. When you came back out, you locked the door behind you and eagerly exclaimed, "Here we go!"

George smiled. "Off we go!" He led you to the car, opening the driver side door for you, then walked around to sit in the passenger seat.

Out of habit, you first fastened your seatbelt. George copied you with his own, though you wondered if he knew being without a seatbelt in a moving car was illegal.

From that point forward, George directed you as well as he could (knowing as little about road laws as he did) for about twenty minutes before you arrived at an inn and pub called the Leaky Cauldron. You parked down the street.

"Well done," George complimented as you both got out of the car. "I don't know much about it, but driving seems complicated without magic."

You laughed. "Thank you!"

You followed George to the front of the inn. He stopped before entering, looking about the area.

"Something the matter?" you asked.

"We've got to be clear of muggles," George said. There weren't any that you or him could see, so George went inside with you nervously on his heels. "To them, this building appears to be nothing but a solid wall. If you weren't used to such things, you can imagine our entrance might look rather... odd."

You giggled at the thought. "That's an understatement."

As you took in your surroundings (which weren't much to behold; the pub was dimly lit and musty), you silently appreciated being able to see the inn from the outside. It was something that separated you from muggles and (sort of) included you with the rest of wizardkind. You became distracted by a couple of bottles floating slowly back to their shelves as the bartender finished preparing a drink, and you accidentally bumped into George's back.

"Sorry," you apologize.

"No worries. I thought you'd like to see this," George said, stepping to the side so you could better view the brick wall in front of him.

"Er..." You weren't sure what he was talking about, and you began to wonder if he meant the rubbish bin at your feet, until he lifted his wand and tapped its tip against the wall.

You jumped back in surprise when the bricks began to move on their own, clicking against each other as they went apart to create a doorway that revealed an entire street with buildings and people.

George laughed at your reaction. "Welcome to Diagon Alley, y/n!"

"Wow..." you breathed in amazement as you stepped out of the pub and onto the street.

Witches and wizards bustled around you, and you quickly turned around to hold George's arm as you worried you'd be split up. He seemed to enjoy this, but didn't say as much.

"What would you like to do?" he asked, gazing contentedly out over the crowd.

You noticed the brick wall closing back up behind you and felt there was no turning back. "I don't really know where to start..." You took in another deep breath to calm yourself. "Oh!" you gasped excitedly, remembering that George owned a joke shop here. "I want to see your shop!"

George smiled. "Then we'll go see my shop!"

You continued to hold onto him (though you had to remind yourself to loosen your grip sometimes) as George happily strolled through the marketplace. As you walked, you began to recognize some things that your father showed or told you about when he was still around, though most of what you saw you couldn't help but gape at. You saw talking, moving gargoyles. There was a store selling potions and elixirs. An advertising wizard performed a jig with mini fireworks. A strange, furry, ball-shaped creature rolled on the ground instead of walking or flying.

You didn't want to bother George but wanted to ask so many questions at the same time. He realized this this, and he insisted that you ask away.

"That's a puffskein," George said, referring to the rolling animal. "They make very low maintenance pets... though they should be put away at night. They enjoy eating bogeys and find that easiest to do while you sleep."

You snorted. "That's hilarious...! It'd be nice to have a clear nose in the morning if the cleaning process wasn't so disturbing."

You and George laughed together.

He went on to answer any questions that you had. He was in no rush to show you his shop, kindly letting you wander around as your attention was had by one thing to the next. During this time, George's name was called out now and then by regular customers or friends of his.

"It's almost impressive how many people you know," you said as George waved to an old wizard who apparently worked with his father.

He looked back at you with a crooked grin. "'Almost'?" George teasingly repeated.

"W-well, I can see that it comes easily to you," you chuckled, becoming flustered and looking away. You pretended to be captivated by a store with brooms sitting in the window. "It is impressive, really. I myself find it difficult to make friends... or even talk to strangers."

"I can understand that," George said, and it surprised you. "All throughout my schooling years, it was easiest to just talk with Fred. He was my... permanent friend," George laughed. "I never needed to wonder if he... might leave me..." You glanced up at George. His expression was tired for only a moment before he put on another smile. "So, I never had any practice making friends. Well, real friends anyway. Fred and I were the biggest class clowns; we had other students lining up to watch or get in on our jokes... Speaking of which, here we are!"

You goggled at the vibrantly designed structure in front of you. It was themed with bright purples and oranges and was welcoming in a lively kind of way. You read, "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes" below a large, grinning, mechanical man with red hair (who you assumed was supposed to be Fred, George, or both). The mechanical man popped off his top hat to reveal a white rabbit. The hat was donned once more, but when the hat lifted again, the rabbit was gone.

"M'lady..." George held the door open for you, bowing low as you walked passed.

"Thank you, my good sir," you giggled.

What you had already seen so far in Diagon Alley was plenty magical, but all that seemed like nothing when compared to the contents of George's shop.

TAG LIST: @tomhockstetter7-111 @jasm-1ne @costheticbabe @luthien-elvenia-asher @megablonde22 @thecuteavocado @weasleylady92 @websfromallthespiders @rubyintheforest @weasleylover4eva @georgeweasleyslostearhq @im-coolrat @them-cute-boys @xmadigurlx @keirasinbin @huayan @deathtonumber7 @elmolovesw33d @coffeebeans11 @dumb4person

[yumingpai]

When love becomes a diagonal, it may intersect at one point but can never extend into a line.

一旦愛如斜角，雖然交會於一點，但卻無法延續成一條線。

[morsmordream]

hi! today i visited universal studios in orlando, florida (i’m not american) and took some photos of knockturn alley that i thought might be useful for myself to help visualise when writing fics etc

i thought i may as well share them here in case some form of visual aid would help anyone else!

[hobbitunderthemountain]

im so mad we never got any hobbit or lotr themed rides in a theme park

the frickin barrels would be such a good water ride

[harrypotterprops]

Sugar Hexes by WWW label.