and the closeness :'(

straydog733  asked:

If you're still looking for prompts: physically disabled Jack playing sled hockey. Bonus points for trying to teach Bob. Thanks!

“Stop making fun of your father and get over here,” Alicia yells, slapping her sticks against the ice. “When he finally figures it out you’re doomed, might as well score now!”

But Jack doesn’t move because he’s laughing so hard he’s actually crying. “How are you a living legend? You can’t even balance on a sledge!” 

Bob pushes himself upright and nearly falls over on his other hip. Under normal circumstances, he’d be embarrassed, so clearly struggling before an entire wedding party's worth of current and former NHLers, but this is a unique circumstance. He’ll happily play the part of the fool, today, or forever, really, if it means he can see Jack smile like this on a regular basis.

“We – ” Jack gasps for breath, shaking so hard he might topple himself, “– we can’t play if Papa can’t skate.”

Alicia streaks past, still radiant in her makeup from the morning’s ceremony. “Bobby, even I’m better at this than you. How is that possible?”

“You are ruthless,” Bob breathes, watching his wife circle him, “and you’re on my team! Is anyone else seeing this? Eric! Have some compassion and come help your father-in-law!”

Bitty, who up to this point has been taking easy laps with his parents, breaks away only to be quickly intercepted by Jack.

“Oh, no, it’s only been six hours, you can’t start playing the father-in-law card.”

Shitty quickly shoots between them, “Make it quick, gentleman, Bitty’s mom is brutal. She’s laid out Tater twice.”

“What’s the point of you getting married if I can’t abuse the relationship for personal gain? You helped Richard, you traitor, so your husband can help me.” Bob argues, propping himself up with his hands instead of the sticks.

“I didn’t think you’d need the help,” Jack grins, switching to French and sliding up beside his father, “you’re supposed to be the best.”

“Ah, well, one too many concussions and my balance isn’t quite what it used to be.” Bob looks up from the ice in time to catch Jack’s smile falter. 

“Are you feeling alright? Is your vertigo back?” 

Christ. He didn’t want to make this about him; any latent injury of Bob’s was dwarfed a long time ago by Jack’s accident, not that this is anything close to a competition. He shakes his head and holds out his arm so Jack can hold him stable. 

“I’m more than alright, just old and jaded, watching all you handsome young bucks skate circles around me.”

Jack laughs and Bob watches his gaze flit back to Eric, who’s carefully coiffed hair is finally falling out of place as he tries to keep his mother from ramming her sledge into Alexei Mashkov. 

“Lean forward a bit, center your weight around your hips,” Jack explains, pressing a hand against Bob’s lower-back. “Not too far, use your sticks to move forward, it’s easier to balance when you’re in motion.”

Bob is struck suddenly by a sense of deja-vu; remembering how easy it had been to teach Jack to skate nearly thirty years earlier. Or how easy it had seemed to a Stanley Cup champion. Jack must have felt exactly how Bob does now, unsteady and unsure. 

“There you go,” Jack says brightly once Bob has centered himself. “See? Not so hard after all. Now you just have to score.”

Jack pulls a puck from between his thighs and tosses it onto the ice. Bob moves to pass it and promptly finds himself lying back on his side.

“This is just like the time I tried snowboarding,” Bob groans. “Had to scoot down the mountain on my ass.”

“Can we make new teams?” Alicia asks. “This doesn’t feel fair.”

Jack snorts a laugh and pulls Bob upright again. “C’mon, Papa, you’ll have this down in no time. Can’t let Maman get bragging rights, she’ll never let you live it down.”

anonymous asked:

Can you do a solangelo where will spends the night in the hades cabin and then they're really embarrassed

Will hadn’t meant to fall asleep. 

He’d just been very tired last night. He’s been working nonstop at the infirmary, his infirmary, and there had been a lot of kids that needed patching up after the round of capture the flag with the Roman kids. Will should know better, and it’s not like he doesn’t trust his siblings, it’s just. A complex, maybe. Anyway, all he remembers from yesterday is that he’d stumbled into the medicine cabinet one too many times, and Kayla had finally had enough, shoving him out the door and into Nico’s waiting arms, telling him to “get some rest before you come back, or so help me.”

And now he’s… here.

Here is inside the Hades cabin, lying in Nico’s bed, an arm trapping him under the covers and something warm pressed against his side. Will blinks again, just to make sure he isn’t still dreaming.

The body beside him shifts, and Will turns his head to find himself face-to-face with Nico’s throat. He freezes. Nico swallows, and Will watches his Adam’s apple bob slightly with the movement. 

“Uh,” he says. “Nico?”

Nico stirs. The arm thrown over Will’s chest moves, and then groggy brown eyes are staring down at him. “Oh,” Nico says, yawning. “Good morning.”

“Good, uh, good morning to you, too.” Will pushes himself up slowly. He does feel better rested than he has in days, but he can feel heat quickly rising in his cheeks. “Um. This is—I mean, thanks for, uh, taking care of me last night?”

“It’s fine,” Nico says. He seems to be waking up more rapidly now, shifting backwards to put some space between them. “I thought here might be quieter than your cabin, and then I couldn’t wake you up, so…” He shrugs, eyes anywhere but Will’s face. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah.” 

They both stare at separate walls, pretending the blush on their cheeks doesn’t exist. Will can imagine what his siblings will say and the raised eyebrows their friends will give them, but he can still feel the warmth of Nico against him. He risks a glance back and finds the other boy already watching him.

Face still flushed pink, Will chances a smile. “Want to get breakfast with me?”

Nico looks away, but there’s a small smile playing on his lips, too. “Okay.”

2

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One headcanon I kinda like is the idea that post-canon Kaiba sometimes still has trouble entirely separating Yuugi from Atem. He knows they’re separate entities by now. He knows there’s a Yuugi and an Atem. He knows that Yuugi never was Atem. And he knows that Atem is gone.

Logically.

But sometimes he just can’t wrap his mind around that. Everything that happened still feels so surreal, so impossible. Sometimes he finds himself looking at Yuugi and expecting Atem to be there, somewhere. He knows he’s not, but a little part of him still wants to believe otherwise. How could he come to accept that Atem exists and then have to accept that he doesn’t anymore? Not here, anyway. Not in Yuugi.

Usually Yuugi doesn’t mind too much. He understands. Even he still thinks of Atem as his other self. He really kept the act up for a while, too. Kaiba didn’t know for as long as the others did, and he’s had to get past deep-seated skepticism to get this far. It makes sense that it’s difficult for him to process.

But Yuugi has better days and worse days. Sometimes he misses Atem so much it’s like there’s a hole in his chest that can’t be filled. He just feels so alone. Sometimes he struggles to pin down his own identity – his own strengths – as he compares himself to Atem. Sometimes he just desperately needs people to understand that he is here and that he’s trying to make the best of it.

So sometimes it hurts when Kaiba calls Atem “Yuugi” or talks about things Atem did as if Yuugi did them. He can get upset, maybe disproportionately so. It’s not like Kaiba’s the only one who does these things. But he tried so long to be Kaiba’s friend, cared for him so deeply, all the while knowing that Kaiba was chasing after a goal that wasn’t him. That most of his friends knew him first as Yuugi, the real Yuugi… but not Kaiba. And now, whether they’re friends or something more, Kaiba’s finally seeing him for who he is. Just… maybe not all the time.