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portsinastorm · 16 days

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It is wild to me that actual adults on the clock app are arguing with people and posting videos about how The Sign was not a great episode because it didn't 'do what it usually does' which is 'to help kids cope with change'. Bluey is not a change management cartoon. It's a slice of life cartoon, but because it is a cartoon for kids, it will be optimistic and hopeful. (And it will want them to have agency and a voice, even in a situation where they don't normally have one.)

Also, in doing so, they don't even realize they're just parroting Bandit's school of thought at the start of the episode that more money meant a 'better' life. It was not what Chilli wanted, neither was it what the girls wanted.

People are so hung up on the moving part (probably because they relate to it) and the change that comes with moving that they completely miss the bigger lesson it was trying to teach people.

The Sign was clearly trying to teach that:

a) What's good for one family isn't necessarily good for another. For the Heelers, their village was in their city, their life was in that city, and even if Bandit's job paid better, they couldn't bring that to their new place. But for Winton and his dad, moving was 1000% the best move because it signaled that they were moving forward and embracing a different configuration of their family.

b) Big decisions require 100% commitment. And a decision that affects the family requires the family input. If you take Stickbird as a prequel for Ghostbasket and The Sign, then Bandit must have been torn about uprooting his family for his job.

One person speaking for the family (in this case, Radley and Bandit) and making decisions did not help the family in either one of those cases. It's only when Bandit hears how everyone else feels that he realizes that he was just looking at the money and not the bigger picture.

c) A decision doesn't set your life in stone, you can always change your mind. Adults think that every decision they make sets their life in stone, but we can always change the path.

d) More money does not mean a better life. The Heelers' village was in their city--their family, their friends, the kids' schools. That the Heelers choose community over short-term gain is a huge statement for a kid's show to make. Maybe things will be hard because they chose to stay. But Bluey, Bingo, and Chilli will remember that Bandit chose them and what made their whole family happy, not just what made him happy.

e) There's magic in the middle. When Chilli and the kids go on their quest, they don't know what will happen and the very literal butterfly effect shows things unfolding for the better. But even in the uncertainty and chaos, Bluey, Bingo, Muffin, and Socks get to have good experiences. They try new things! They discover something new! Bluey marks a milestone!

#bluey #the sign #frustrated by the lack of comprehension #the bad media literacy erupted with this episode #bluey meta

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hoedamn-eron · 1 month

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bluey!

Nathan discovers your son’s favourite show.

Warnings: As always, Nathan is a warning. No offence to Miss Rachel or anyone who uses Miss Rachel (I’ve personally never watched her, just needed Nathan to be a dick). Hints of infertility (from this episode of Bluey). Teeny tiny mention of parental anxiety of meeting milestones (from this episode of Bluey). Not proofread this time. Word count: 1,238 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Yet another self indulgent fic about dad!Nathan. Set in the same universe as Shut Up, Kid, but can be read as a stand-alone. This also was only meant to be a quick one shot but it turned out to be over 1k 😂.

Nathan Bateman was a fucking genius.

He built the code for Blue Book when he was thirteen years old.

He used to think himself a God. He could build realistic androids, for Christ's sake (not anymore, not since ‘The Incident’).

And because of this, he finds it hard to ‘switch off’. His brain was always moving a million miles a minute, constantly filled with thoughts of how to improve the company, and now that he’s a dad, it just added another thing to think about. And he isn’t complaining about having to think about Silas – he loves the kid, would do anything for him – but at the same time...it is just another thing to keep his brain busy.

Like today.

You come walking into his office (the door is open most days now), holding Silas on your hip, his favourite pacifier in his mouth, and carrying as many toys as you could in your other hand.

“Can you watch him for an hour, please?”

You see Nathan’s shoulders slump before you’ve even finished asking, and you ignore the spark of irritation that sits uncomfortably in your chest as Nathan turns his chair to look at you. You know he’s busy, but you’re busy too; you’ve been called in for a virtual meeting, on your maternity leave, no less, with the department heads – you know they wouldn’t appreciate a noisy baby in the background (despite the fact you want to make a point that they requested you...on your maternity leave).

Besides, Nathan doesn’t have any tight deadlines right now. He’s the CEO, he can push anything back whenever he damn well pleases anyway.

“Nathan, he’ll just sit and watch his TV show for a bit, it’s only an hour.”

Nathan sighs, and you tense at it.

He makes a mental note to make up for it later.

“Okay,” he says, and without looking at him, you walk over to the rug in his office, sitting Silas down on it before placing the toys around him, in easy reach for him.

You turn on the TV and place Bluey on, before walking over to Nathan’s desk and placing the remote on it. You give a swift, “See you in an hour,” before hurrying out to make your meeting.

Nathan gives a quick look to Silas, who – in your defence – was still, watching the TV, sucking away on his pacifier. Satisfied, Nathan turns back to his computer, his eyes drifting over to Silas every now and then before turning back to his screens. The noise from the TV fades into the background, until one particular line jumps out at Nathan.

“Magic Claw has no children. His days are free and easy.”

Nathan huffed a laugh through his nose. He couldn’t agree more. He glanced at the TV then back at Silas before turning back to his computer.

After a while, another line came through, causing him to chuckle again.

“Can I help you?”

“I wish you could, mate.”

Eventually, when he hears the characters talking about – what he thinks is – wanting kids and being unable to have them, he turns his full attention to the TV.

“What the fuck are you watchin’?” Nathan asks before standing and slipping his hands in his pockets as he saunters over to stand behind Silas.

Nathan stands and watches the family of cartoon dogs; Bluey and her sister, Bingo, and their parents, Chilli and Bandit. He watches with a furrowed brow for a moment, wondering how this was his son’s favourite show (it was probably all the colours). And he guesses the theme tune was a little catchy. And sure, Silas didn’t quite understand it, but the dialogue was funny.

“This is better than some of the other shit you watch,” Nathan said, bending down and picking Silas up, without taking his eyes off the TV. “That whiney black bunny you watch? Hate him. The Teletubbies? Also awful. I don’t understand why your mom thinks it’s a classic.”

Silas made a small noise around his pacifier and pointed to the TV.

“Yeah, she your favourite?” Nathan asks, looking at Silas. “What’s her name again? Bingo?”

Silas makes another noise, almost as if confirming with Nathan, still pointing at the TV.

Nathan nodded anyway. “Okay, okay, gotcha.”

After a moment, Nathan stood holding Silas, the two of them watching Bluey together.

Your meeting overran.

By nearly 45 minutes.

Nathan was going to be pissed.

You speed-walk to his office, ready to blurt out an apology (even though it wasn’t your fault the meeting went over), but you stop mid step when you hear Nathan say to Silas, “I think she’s sleeping with the neighbour.”

Your brow furrows in confusion as you hear him, then Silas babble back.

“Oh yeah, you agree? They’re too friendly, right?”

You slowly walk into the Nathan’s office, seeing him standing with his bank to you on the rug, holding Silas in his arms as they watched Bluey together. Nathan was lightly swaying, almost as if he didn’t realise he was doing it.

You sucked in your lips, holding back a laugh. You didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“You better not turn out like Muffin, she’s insane,” Nathan said. “I’ll love you regardless, but still.”

Your heart skipped a beat, like it did every time you heard those words come out of his mouth. It wasn’t as if Nathan had never said ‘I love you’, but he…struggles…to express his emotions that aren’t irritability or exasperation. But with Silas, it came naturally to him. He never failed to say ‘I love you’ to his son (of course, Nathan does say it to you, but he understands you’re a ‘full-grown adult who can identify acts of love’; his words).

You’re brought out of your reverie as a new episode of Bluey started, the theme music kicking in. Your eyes widen and you laugh quietly as Nathan starts lightly jumping around to the music, Silas laughing and kicking his legs excitedly.

“I’m watching the footage back to this,” you say.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Nathan says, jumping as he whirls around to look at you. “Announce yourself, would you?”

“You, uh…” you say, still grinning. “You watching Bluey?” you look at Silas, who smiles at you and kicks his legs in excitement. “You watching Bluey with dada? Does dada like Bluey?”

“This is fuckin’ great,” he says, giving you a pointed look. “So much better than that Miss Rachel, or whatever her name is. She’s fuckin’ annoying.”

“Excuse me, she’s very educational!”

“She’s overdoing it. The kid will learn to talk fine with just us.”

“His first word will probably be something inappropriate,” you say. “Like fuck. Or asshole.”

Nathan doesn’t reply as he turns back to the TV. You come and stand next to him, watching the episode with him. It’s the one where Chilli was telling Bluey about how she was worried that Bluey wasn’t going to meet her milestones, but Coco’s mom had told her she was doing an amazing job. It was one of your favourite episodes.

“I’ve been stood here for an hour watching these,” Nathan said quietly. “It’s nice.”

“Just standing and swaying with him?” you ask gently.

“Yeah,” Nathan said simply, not expanding.

You nod, before leaning against him a little. You feel him push back at you.

You stand together and watch a few more seconds of Bluey before you ask, “So you think Chilli and Lucky’s dad are going at it?”

“Oh they definitely are.”

#nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x reader #dad!nathan bateman x mom!reader #dad!nathan bateman #Oscar Isaac #ex machina #f!reader #mom!reader

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babydollmarauders · 1 year

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ROADIE — TREVOR ZEGRAS

dad! trevor zegras x fem! reader

summary: in which your baby says her first word while Trevor is on a roadie.

warnings: pet names?

notes: i wrote this in about 2 hours and it was not proofread. so for all i know, this could be absolute trash.

“mama. can we say mama?” i probably looked like a crazy person, bent over the front of the cart, talking to my 10 month old in the grocery store with a rats nest of hair and wearing leggings with a heavily stained oversized Anaheim Ducks t-shirt. and the usual stares over being a 21 year old mom aren’t helping.

this has been the first time since Addy was born that no one was staying with me while Trevor is on a roadie, and it’s been a bit harder than i anticipated. it’s been exhausting because although Addy is delaying with her words, she excelled with her other milestones. namely walking. she took her first steps about two weeks ago and has been toddling about the apartment ever since, so life has turned into a fun little ‘where’s waldo?’ game every time i turn around for the past two days. she’s also going through a sleep regression, so she’s waking up every hour again, which leaves me with little to no time to sleep or shower or do anything besides dote on her. and then, of course, when i opened the cupboard this morning, i realized we were on the last jar of baby food, so cue a trip to the store.

Addy just makes some babbling noises and scream laughs in my face, making me flinch and straighten back up.

“alright duckling, i hear you loud and clear. let’s get checked out so we can go back home for some Bluey time, yeah?” i worked quickly and swiftly, scanning each glass jar of food at the self check out and bagging them based on vegetable, fruit, medley, or meal.

when i finally get out to the car and buckle Addy in, her little blue eyes, exact replicas of Trevor’s, sweep over my face as wide as saucers.

“can we try that again?” i make conversation as i finish buckling her car seat. “can you say mama? mama. mama.”

once again, my baby just stares back at me.

“or not. that’s cool too. you can totally not speak at all if you want. doesn’t matter to mommy, as long as you’re happy and healthy.”

with the grocery bags placed in the passengers seat, i start the drive back to the apartment.

when we get back, i turn the tv onto Bluey and set Addy in her jumper in the living room. giving myself some time to wash the dishes piling in the sink. about 10 minutes into it though, my phone starts ringing back in the living room. drying my hands on a dish towel, i walk the ten or so steps back to the couch and swipe at the answer button on my phone screen without even checking the caller id.

“hey babe!” Trevor’s face fills the screen in a facetime and his voice is like music to my ears.

“hi love! how was morning practice?” i use the remote sitting on the arm of the couch to pause the tv show while i go sit beside the jumper so Trevor can see our beautiful baby.

“it was good! the sharks aren’t ready for us.” his face lights up as soon as Addy comes into the camera view.

“that’s great. i believe in y’all! show those fish who the real predator is!” his laugh at my joke brings a smile to my lips and i’m overwhelmed with gratitude that this is the man i’ll be vowing to spend the rest of my life with this summer.

“how’s daddy’s little duckling?! daddy’s so happy to see your pretty little face! yes, he is!” his baby talk oddly causes my heart to skip a beat. “dada misses you so much. i can’t wait to be home tomorrow night so i can kiss all over your tiny face.”

“duh- duh” Addy babbles and i smile at Trevor on the screen.

“we’re taking dada’s absence to try and learn the word mama, aren’t we baby?” i direct the end of my sentence to Addy, who’s still babbling sounds.

“that’s cheating!” Trevor’s whine is joking and he opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can get a word out, someone else does.

“dada.” my eyes go wide, Trevor’s copying, and we both avert our gaze to our 10 month old, who just said her first word. her chubby little fingers are making grabby motions towards my phone, straight at her father.

“that’s right babygirl! say it again! say dada!” Trevor is frantic and i can see tears welling in his eyes, even through the screen.

“you can do it baby! say dada!” i encourage her, my own tears falling freely down my cheeks.

“dada. dada!” she looks at Trevor and repeats the word before looking up at me. “dada.”

“oh my god, she did it Trev! she said her first word!”

“i know! i was so worried it wasn’t gonna happen! i mean, i would love her regardless, but she did it! and it was dada!” the smile he wears is breathtaking and wide.

“she misses you. so do i.”

“i miss you too, baby. i’ll be home tomorrow night.”

****

Trevor gets home tonight and i have not gotten a reprieve from the endless shouts of dada, all morning. at the moment, Addy is wobbling down the hallway towards Trev and i’s room for the fifth time today, repeatedly shouting “dada! dada!”

i can’t be for certain, but i have a feeling she keeps assuming he’s in our room and is calling out for him. she’s definitely a daddy’s girl, although that’s not a surprise because she has been since she was born.

i’m currently trailing behind her, recording a video. after a few seconds, i scoop her up into my arms and send the video to Trevor.

to: Trev Swift

**video attachment**

she’s been doing this all day. babygirl is looking for her dada!

from: Trev Swift

oh my little duckling! be home in 2 hours

i blow raspberries on her cheek and readjust her on my hip.

“daddy will be home soon! isn’t that exciting?! i’m thinking playpen time until then.” i stop beside the pack n’ play set up in the living room already stocked with a few teething toys and blocks, and set Addy inside. i put some Mickey Mouse on the tv and sit on the couch, grabbing the book i’m currently reading off of the side table.

about 30 minutes later i notice it’s been suspiciously silent and look over to Addy, only to find her napping. i smile at the sight of my sleeping daughter, and go back to reading my book.

before i even realize how much time has passed, i hear the front door opening and a thud hit the ground. Trevor’s home. i bookmark my page and snap my book shut, leaping up from the couch and making my way towards the front of the apartment, meeting Trev in the dining room.

“hi, baby.” his arms snake around my waist and he leans down to plant a kiss on my lips. “where’s Addy?”

“napping. she passed out in the playpen about an hour and a half ago.” i slip my arms around my fiancé’s neck, laying my head on his chest. “how were your trips?”

“eh. they were fine. but i missed my girls.”

we pull back and share one more kiss, this one a little deeper, before the sound of Addy’s cries drifts towards us from the other room.

“you wanna get your daughter? i need a shower.”

“oh so now she’s my daughter?” he laughs as we walk into the living room. a big smile graces his lips and he scoops Addy up and into his arms. “hey babygirl! daddy’s home and he’s not going anywhere any time soon.”

“dada!” Addy shouts and slaps both her tiny palms onto his cheeks, squishing his face.

“yeah, duckling. dada.”

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #babydollmarauders #faithlynn’s writings <3 #nhl fic #nhl imagine #anaheim ducks

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bunnyreaper · 1 year

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hello hello! its me again back at it with the babies bc i am insatiable and i cannot get enough of your writing 😭💕

would you be up for toddler and teenager phases with reaper/gabe? something about the idea of reaper trying to handle a moody teen who takes after him is just- i am going to EXPLODE 🥺🙏

notes: yes i'm living for your requests!! i kind of went off the rails with this, i'm so sorry ;__; i hope you like it though! warnings: f!reader, loose grasp on concepts of masculinity and parenting. Gabriel and Reaper with toddler and teen child HCs (+ bonus drabbles)

Gabriel:

Gabe with toddler is a real treat to see, as he gets to release his more lighthearted, goofy, and imaginative side.

The best storyteller going will do all the voices (but gets a little embarrassed about anyone at work knowing this.)

Keeps up with the bilingual teaching and beams with pride when they start speaking Spanish.

Lets the toddler use them as a climbing frame, swings them around to their heart's content, and never gets tired.

Takes it really hard if he misses a milestone because he's out on a mission. Often someone caught it on camera, but it's not quite the same

Buys them their basketball jersey and baby hoop.

Would enjoy Bluey (because he's a man of good taste after all) and would hate Peppa Pig (same reason)—sometimes whistles the Bluey theme tune, and you can't convince me otherwise.

Gets extremely stressed if they sustain any slight injury at all.

Takes them into Overwatch for office days on occasion as a toddler. They love visits to Uncle Jack's office or when Ana lets them play fight with her.

Still brings them to Overwatch as they grow up, especially when they seem to be going through a tough time. They find everyone at Overwatch cooler than Gabe, or at least that's what they tell him (but they secretly hero worship him and all the others.)

Continues to teach them proper gun safety, takes them shooting and emphasizes the gravity of what guns can do.

Understands Ana's opposition to Fareeha wanting to join Overwatch, and has to have you talk him down from stubborn overreactions when the subject is mentioned.

Does bond with them over sport. Takes one-on-one time with them at their favorite games, and if they play, he'll try his best to attend games around missions.

Teaches them to cook too, especially dishes he loved growing up.

Struggles with the mood swings if they say hurtful things. If his kid ever said they hated him, his heart would shatter into a million pieces.

Tries to encourage openness and honesty, so they can feel safe discussing anything at all with him, even if he squirms like crazy giving "the talk".

Again, has to be talked down from being the stereotype of overprotective father when his kid starts dating, but he learns to trust their instincts and values. After all, you both raised them to value their own autonomy and to have good instincts about people.

But he almost finds himself crying with them the first time they get their heart broken, and he desperately wishes he could do anything to take the pain away.

Loves helping them pick outfits for school dances or other special occasions.

"You ready?" You ask your daughter sweetly, looking her over as she fiddles with the costume.

She frowns, a look you're familiar with indicating that she's feeling self-conscious and shy. "What do you think, mama?"

You kneel down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You look perfect, don't forget to do your impression, okay?"

"Okay." She confirms, yet still seems unconvinced.

"Can we show Papa now?" You ask, readying her for the reveal.

It's Superhero day at preschool, and she knew which hero she wanted to be the moment the day was announced.

She hesitates, the uncertain expression still in her eyes. "Maybe..."

"What's up, baby?" You stroke her sweet face, careful not to smudge the scars you just painted onto her face.

"What if he doesn't like it?" She frowns, her eyes averted from your gaze.

"He's going to love it, promise." You smile, and finally she softens. "Ready?"

She nods, and you call out to Gabe. "Ready?"

"Ready!" Gabe replies from the other room. He was hoping for something cool, maybe Captain Marvel or Wonder Woman, but he was about to get an even great surprise.

You open the door for your daughter, and the two of you walk into the living room.

"Ta da!" You call out, as your daughter crosses her arms over her puffed up chest and dons the most adorable, unconvincing scowl.

"Baby..." Gabe drops to his knees, staring at your daughter with welled up eyes, and he toys with her black beanie. "Baby... are you dressed as me?"

"Yes, papa, do you like it?" She asks, hesitant at her father's reaction.

"I love it." He nods, tightening his jaw and willing away the tears.

"You're my hero." She cries happily as she hugs his neck. "Don't cry!"

"Can't help it." He laughs, and your heart swells as you watch the scene. "Don't tell the bad guys my weakness, okay?"

"Okay." She giggles, pulling away to press a kiss to his cheek. "Te quiero mucho, papa."

"Te quiero mucho, baby." He whispers, casting you a look that shows you just how much his heart is melting. "So I guess once we pick you up from preschool, we better head to base. You've gotta start bossing Uncle Jack around now."

******

"Vete a la verga, papa!" ("Go to hell, dad!") Your daughter shouts as she slams the door upstairs, a loud thud that echoes round the house.

"Cuida tu lenguaje, jovencita." ("Watch your mouth, young lady.") Gabe calls back, anger in his tone as he admits defeat and storms down the stairs.

When he emerges into the kitchen, he's still muttering in Spanish.

"What did you say now?" You sigh, exasperated at the way the two of them have been butting heads lately.

"Ella tienen un humor de perros." ("She's in a bad mood.") He grumbles. "She'll get over it."

Reaper:

Hates the terrible twos and tantrums (because no one is allowed to be dramatic as he is), and sometimes you find him and the toddler both pouting.

Doesn't sweat the small stuff like grazed knees or hands, as he knows it's how the toddler learns. He still keeps a fierce watch over them, though.

His blood boils hearing kindergarten stories about other kids mistreating his child, doubly so if he senses an adult has taken a dislike to his kid.

Sometimes struggles with the high-energy moments of raising a toddler, but thrives when they're sleepy and just looking for cuddles. He makes a great pillow.

Does have to try harder to maintain his patience, and understand the lack of malice in the actions of a toddler. Sometimes he finds it hard to keep his cool when toys are being thrown or bedtime is being avoided.

Tears up more than he likes to admit at milestones and small moments, gets really sentimental and insists on keeping baby teeth, locks of hair, etc.

Keeps their drawings, even if they're just colorful lines and splotches.

Gets a family dog, and thrives seeing the bond between his kid and the dog.

Doesn't like wearing tiaras, drinking pretend tea, or the smell of play dough (deals with it all anyway.)

Feels parts of his soul repair when his kid says "I love you" for the first time.

Regrets teaching his kid sarcasm, because holy shit, do they have it in spades.

Is the overprotective father suspicious of everyone who wants to date his kid, regardless of gender. He might not show it outwardly, but he's often sharing his worries with you and prone to forgetting how scary he can actually be.

Both loves it and hates it when gun lessons show his kid to have an aptitude with shotguns.

Offers to drive them anywhere and everywhere, as it means he can keep tabs on them and keep them safer.

Teaches them self-defense, takes it very seriously.

Gains major cred with his kid for using the correct pronouns for trans/nb friends.

Curses them out in Spanish when they do something especially dumb.

Tries to pick up video games to help relate, finds FPS games annoyingly difficult, definitely grumps if he gets called out on it.

Cries at the high school graduation, begs you not to tell their kid.

Gets called "old man" by his kid, makes his eye twitch 1000%.

"Papa?" Your son's sweet voice interrupts the silence as you and Gabriel sit on the couch reading. Your son climbs onto his father's chest and pokes at his face. "Grumpy." He comments simply.

"I'm not grumpy." He says, yet his brows are knit.

"Papa grumpy." The toddler comments once more, mimicking the frown before fiddling with his face some more. He prods his fingers into Gabriel's cheeks, forcing them into a smile.

"Papa happy." He says with a grin.

"Papa happy." Gabriel responds, finally cracking with a genuine smile.

*****

"I don't know Mom, can I?" Your son responds, completely exasperated. You don't even need to look up to know he's rolling his eyes.

"You can do it yourself. You usually do anyway." He groans and makes his way to leave the kitchen.

His exit is blocked by your husband's heavy frame, his eyes glaring down at your son.

"Don't speak to your mother like that."

He comments, a quiet sense of rage filling him. "Your Abuelita would have your head for that." He growls.

"Good job she's not here then, isn't it?" Your son responds in an instant—the cruelty sounding strange even from his usually sharp tongue.

"Go to your room." Gabriel snaps, his voice raising as he steps aside yet puffs out his chest, unable to look his son in the eye.

Your heart clenches, knowing how the words would cut Gabriel so deep. They already hurt you, but his mother's memory was a sacred one, and your son had crossed a line. Despite his usual teenage ways lately, this was a step too far.

"When did he get so moody?" Gabriel comments gruffly, as you approach him and attempt to soothe him with a comforting touch.

"Hmm, wonder who gets that from." You whisper, pressing a kiss to your husband's cheek.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He pouts, going rigid with annoyance.

You laugh lightly. "Sure you don't."

Gabriel pulls away, the stormy expression still on his face.

"He's been struggling lately. I didn't mean to, but I overheard him talking to one of his friends." You sigh—now was the time to tell Gabriel the truth. "I've been meaning to bring it up."

Gabriel's attention is caught. "Bring what up?"

"You're so hard on him all the time. He thinks you hate him." Once more, your chest hurts. You know it's the furthest thing from the truth, but all your son craves is his father's approval, and your words haven't done anything to soothe him.

"He does?" Gabriel's eyes darken, as a piece of his past self bubbles up inside him—that same feeling he once had to always prove himself. The one that drove him to the police, the army, to the SEP, and beyond—ending in his near death experience and everything that follows.

Gabriel swallows deeply, his anger abating as he turns and heads upstairs to his son's room.

After a knock or two, he's greeted by a disgruntled "What?", before he announces that he's heading in.

"Hey." Gabriel offers casually, yet his boy doesn't meet his eye.

He sits on his bed, swirling the butterfly knife Gabriel got him for Christmas round and round. Gabriel takes a seat beside him.

"You can talk to us, to me, if something's bothering you." He offers, trying his hardest to sound even. He loves his son with everything he has, and he doesn't want him to grow up like him, constantly pushing things down.

His anger most days might be exacerbated by his physical condition, but the experiments only exaggerated what was lurking underneath.

The boy's knife play stops, his expression softening, yet he doesn't turn to face his father.

"I know dad." He sighs. "There's nothing to talk about, though."

"Then why are you acting out with your mother?" Gabriel asks.

"I'll apologize to her. Sorry."

"It would be better if you just explained yourself." Gabriel says, but his son now just falls quiet.

Gabriel studies his son's expressions, sensing his quiet softening and yet his clear reticence to open up at this time.

"Suit yourself." He replies, yet resolves to make a greater effort in the future to change things for the better. "I know you can take care of yourself." Gabriel's words finally have his son looking at him, the validation and approval clearly working.

He slings his arm around his son, pulling him closer. "But we're always gonna look out for you, your mama, and I. I'm proud of you, though."

His son looks sheepish and embarrassed, turning his face away yet not moving from his father's touch.

"Talk over?" He mumbles, his voice higher pitched than usual.

"Talk over." Gabriel nods, pressing a kiss to his son's head before making his way out of the room.

#gabriel reyes x reader #reaper x reader #gabriel reyes #gabriel reyes headcanons #overwatch headcanon #overwatch fanfiction #gabriel reyes headcanon

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