THIS HURT

THIS HURT

We're on this together... (Chapter II)

Bradley Bradshaw × fem!wife!reader

Summary: Is it harder for you? Or for Bradley?

Warnings: infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf. Mostly angst.

'We are on this journey together and we will never separate. I love you."

January 3, 2023.

Everyone,mostly you, could see how much Bradley loved childrens. Babies, toddlers, teenagers, it didn't matter, he loved them.

Ever since you married, you had admired how he treated them, how he made them laugh, how they played, and how his eyes lit up at the high-pitched squeals they made when he threw them in the air. He would catch them again. And again.

He... was born just for this.

That's why you were trying so hard to give him what he wanted more than anything in the world; a baby,a kid of yours.

He searches hundreds of websites for you on ways to increase your chances of getting pregnant, checks your ovulation time, changes your diet... he does the impossible and you both still can't succeed.

You couldn't make your husband happy. He hated this sentence.

And the worst part is, he's not the only one waiting for you to have his child, everyone is doing it, all of your friends are having their second or third kids and you were still... not pregnant.

One day, you were criticized among your friends for not having a flat stomach. They said something as a joke that you might be pregnant, but it wasn't like that.

Just because you dont have a flat belly doesn't mean you're pregnant, right?

Your tears feel familiar on your skin now and when you were sure Bradley is gone you were crying all over the house, you couldn't let him see you like this, it's not fair when he gave you everything and you couldn't give him something so simple.

It's that simple. Right?

You don't want help, you can do it on your own, you know he can or so he thinks, he keeps busy every day trying not to think about it, but it's inevitable, you can't do that when it's something he wants so badly.

You were doing your usual work on laptop, trying to get rid of the thoughts in your head, even if only a little, you were scrolling through your e-mail box while slow jazz was playing in the background, writing down what you needed to write and dealing with the files you needed to handle.

"A young man fell into the base today! We walked around the hard deck and drank soda's. He was with for a while we had a lot of fun, but I think he misses his aunt y/n. I love you baby.💞"

The text came up with a picture of your husband with Jake's son, three of them smiling and Bradley holding some soda cans in his left arm and the right one is holding the boy's shoulder. It was beautiful and made your heart ache, a small smile appeared on your face,the voices and pain in your head seemed to be over, at least for a mimute, and you replied to the message, "I love you two!! Say hello to Jake for me.💓💓"

You stared at the picture for a few seconds, forgetting about the task in front of you.

The smile on Bradley's face was genuine, and he was holding the little boy with incredible familiarity, as if he already knew how to hold a child even though it wasn't his own.

Your phone hit the wooden table with a loud thud and you brought your hands up to your face, feeling tears of frustration falling from your eyes.

No, you were not jealous of them, in fact, you were very happy that they were pregnant with the third one, but why couldn't you?

This was unfair.

While God gave people the chance to have so many children, why couldn't you even have one?

And the saddest problem was,you.

Bradley was perfectly healthy, he could get a different woman pregnant, but he couldn't get you.

The house was quiet, unlike your head, thousands of things were going on every second.

You left your spot and went upstairs to take another pregnancy test with some hope.

It came out negative. Like always.

January 18, 2023.

You throw the four pregnancy tests you took ten minutes ago into the trash can and you hear Bradley sigh as he sits on the bed, hiding his face with his hands. You sit next to him.

“We just have to try harder.” He said, lifting his head to look at you and placing his hand comfortably on your knee.

“What does 'trying harder' mean?” you asked,with a hint of you wobble voice from the emotions. "We do this every day, especially when I'm ovulating, when I..."

"Baby, calm down." Bradley tells you and he just snorts in annoyance.

"Maybe...we could go to another doctor?" He gets down on one knee as if he's proposing, but you stand up and look at him as if he had three heads.

"Why should I go to the doctor? There is nothing wrong with me, we will have this baby, I know. Sooner or later." you exclaimed.

He stood up and took your hands in his, stroking your wrists.

"Of course we will, I have no doubt about that. But—it's better to know more, you know?"

"We're going to have this baby, Bradley. I am going to."

Uh oh-

I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS CHAPTER BEING SO SHORT😭😭😭 and bad news it is progressively gets more sad.. And there is going to be timeline-

I'm tagging people who might be interested and some mutuals:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @hardballoonlove @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @els-marvelvsp @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady and if you are not comfortable please tell me!!

AHHH EVERYTHING NEEDS TO BE FINE

We're on this together...(Chapter IV)

Bradley Bradshaw x Fem!Wife!Reader

Summary: Is it over now? Or is it starting now?

A/n: A MAJOR change is on the way!!

Warnings: Infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf.Use of alcohol,arguing,use of bad languange. Mostly angst.

20 APRIL 2022.

You nodded.

That's why you're currently in one of the most well known clinics in San Diego because Bradley didn't want to "risk it" and your leg shakes with anger at the thought, causing Bradley to rest his hand on your knee.

Car ride was complately silence. And after around one and half an hour you both finally parked your car to the parking lot and walked into the big hospital.

The sterile smell of the hospital immediately caught your nose. This scent wasn't helping you feel more stressed than you already were. But Bradley's tight grip on your hand seemed to comfort you at least a little.

He's nervous too, damn, he feels like he's going to throw up, but he has to stay strong for you and he relaxes a little when his lover rests her head on his shoulder and kisses her temple, which works because he's a little less nervous now.

"It'll be alright." You whisper and your husband smiles to hear you thinking positively.

"Exactly." He answers, his heart pounding with pride when he hears you optimistic for the first time in a long time.

You both are distracted by looking at socials on his phone for a few more minutes until a woman in white emerges from the office and looks up, reading a spreadsheet to say. "Bradshaw?"

You both stand up, You instantly reach out for Bradley to hold your hand tightly, and after greeting the woman, you both enter where the doctor is waiting for you behind her desk.

“Bradley, Y/N, this is a pleasure.” She shakes both of your hands.

"Thank you. Pleasure is ours." Bradley responds with the hand now holding on your lower back and gently pulling the chair forward for you to sit down on.

"Okay, I understand you're here because you're having trouble getting pregnant, right?" The old woman asks, looking under her round glasses.

"Yes." You hum, swallowing dryly.

Bradley takes your hand but continues to stare at the doctor, knowing his wife hates public attention, something he's learned the hard way over the last dozen years.

"We'll be running some tests on you both next week, don't worry, just to make sure everything is as it should be."

You both nodded, and both felt small in the hospital chairs, holding hands, afraid, feeling that time had not passed, and feeling that you were still sixteen years olds and had no idea what life was really like.

Talking about a future that would never come, wishing they could be like them again forever, they gathered in the treehouse as You stroked Bradley's uncontrollable hair, as he clumsily talked about his dreams, thinking that maybe one day he would love to be become a fighter pilot. Like his dad.

They both are individually subjected to multiple tests and studies, and after about three hours both of your works finish, returning home exhausted and not even eating dinner, you both quickly crawl under the covers and seek each other's warmth.

While Bradley plays with the ring on his ring finger, his head lies on his lover's chest. "Are you scared?" he asks and your hands stop in his hair.

"Maybe a baby isn't for us."

You look up and look at him in shock, feeling your throat close at the raw and harsh words and you heart starts pounding when you see his face.

"Darling, don't say that."

You look away, staring at the ceiling, feeling the tears gathering in your eyes until they fall down the sides onto your pillow.

You are not even sobbing, not screaming, nothing, just...crying. Silently.

"Oh, my love.” He grabs your arms to pull you closer, switching positions so you are on top of him, dipping his bare chest in the salty drops.

"We're going to have them, fuck, we're going to have the baby or maybe babies. We just have to wait for the results. I know we are going to."

He wants to cry too, but he can't cry in front of you when you need him more than ever. He will find a moment of solitude where he can lighten his own burden, but not now.

"I just want to make you happy." You cry and he frowns.

"You think I need a baby to be happy?"

Bradley questions, holding your waist and carresing with his thumb.

"Darling, as long as you're with me, anything can go to hell, I'll be the happiest man on earth. I don't need a baby, I don't need anything but you, my soul."

You hug him tighter, digging your nails into his shoulders and closing your eyes, breathing in the scent of home your husband gives off. Now you understand and blindly believe in it.

As long as they are together, they don't need anything else.

I know this is sad but it might be the last sad chapter hehehe!!!

I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsign-fox @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @hardballoonlove @topguncortez @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @eternalsams @callsigns-haze @promisingyounglady @els-marvelvsp @cevansbaby-dove you are not comfortable please tell me!!

this is sooo amazing!! your such a talented writer, and the random little quotes or facts are so cool!

Secret Sacrifices // Jake Seresin

Chapter Three: [The Grocery Affirmation]

Summary: When Sunday rolls around, Jake is chuffed to run into a ‘Damsel’ on his running route.

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of depression, anxiety, panic attacks. Mild romance. Angst/Whump.

Word Count: 3.3k

Author Note: EEPPPP I’m back queens!! The serotonin is doing the lords work. Really want to try and stick to a regular posting scene if I can get the routine in place. Been thinking about this one for a while now.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

There’s a saying that goes around hospitals that reads a little something like this. Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional. But there’s understandable doubt that the person who coined the saying ever went through a major surgery or trauma. 

Or maybe they didn’t mean physical pain. Perhaps they meant the other kind, the worst kind. Maybe they meant the kind of searing, seething, boiling pain that tells you you’re a failure as a mother and a fraud of a wife. 

Suffering is optional……That person didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about. It's all-consuming. The day-to-day struggle of living through hell all the while those who you loved unconditionally, were taken away in such horrific and volatile circumstances. The ever-burning pressure of survivor's guilt, the searing pain of grief, and the utter turmoil of failure all adds up. 

Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional. Yeah right. Suffering isn't optional, it was forced upon you in a split-second that changed the course of your life as you knew it…..and wanted it to be. 

Your deep and meaningful with Bob sat heavily inside your chest. Could you trust him? Was it fair to burden him with such a huge secret? Did you put him in danger by letting him in? Would he tell anyone? But as you opened the boot of your car and sighed at the haphazardly thrown-in grocery bags, a small sense of normality took the space of the pressing questions inside your mind. 

The groceries were heavier than normal, either you were getting weaker or you had just decided to purchase more impulse buys than normal. The paper bag handles were surely going to cut off the circulation in your arms as you were adamant to one trip this. From the undercover carport, up the three flights of stairs, down the hall and to the right, that's where your hideaway was. You'd say home, but home is where the heart is. Your heart was ripped from your chest when you watched your son’s life drain from his eyes. Your heart was shattered into a million pieces when you watched helplessly as your husband bled out in your arms. 

So no, no this wasn't a home for you, but it would have to do. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jake Seresin was en route, enjoying a rather peaceful run. Golden tan skin covered with a thin shine of sweat. The perfect combination for any workout. At a pace that matched A Man To Make Me Sweat, Jake made his way down the footpath that ran the expanse of the side street he knew your apartment complex to be on. 

Was the particular route Jake decided to take this morning one intertwined with the hope he would run into you? That's a question for another time. But when you came into view? Jake smiled to himself knowing that the other route passed Bradley’s condo wouldn't have been as eventful. Nor would it have such a beautiful view. 

The sight of you wrestling with a million groceries and effortlessly trying to convince yourself that you were fine, was a sight Jake could watch all morning. His stride started to slow but his heart rate kept rising. The thought of you, the sight of you, the idea of you being his and only his. Jake had never been the kind to want to settle down. He’d never been the man who committed to one person or one relationship. He was a free-floating spirit that enjoyed the company of others. But when he first saw you, first spoke to you, heard that laugh of yours, saw that beautiful smile, listened to your hypnotic voice, he knew he was fucked from the get-go.

On approach, Jake slowed right down to a walk. His eyes never left your silhouette as he reached into his pocket for his phone. Deciding to pause his music rather than just turn it down. Jake could have stayed like this forever, he could have watched you all day. But when he watched as the bottom of one of the paper bags blew out, sending groceries of all kinds across the drive and pathway, he knew he had to make himself known. 

“You need a hand?” Jake had never seen you look so scared in the time he’d known you as you turned around with wide eyes and a look of intense panic plastered across your face. He swore the tone he’d used had been one laced with a lighthearted approach. “Woah, didn’t mean to scare you half to death Brewer.” Jake followed up as he approached with caution, holding his hands up by his head to show surrender and peace.

“Jesus, you scared the hell out of me Seresin,” The adrenal glands, also known as suprarenal glands, are small, triangular-shaped glands located on top of both kidneys. Adrenal glands produce hormones that help regulate your metabolism, immune system, blood pressure, response to stress and in this particular instance, respond to one Jake ‘Hangman’ Sererin scaring whatever soul you had left from your being. 

In your fright, you had let go of more of the grocery bags you had been trying to gather up. Groceries were strewn across the driveway and subsequent footpath. Cans of chickpeas and packets of beef jerky littered the concrete as you held your left hand over your heart to make sure it wasn’t about to leap out of your chest. 

“Fucking idiot, don’t scare people like that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

Jake chuckled to himself as a grin stretched itself across his smug face. Only you could call him an idiot in a scathing rage of fear and his mind would wander to marriage and children and dying together after a long and happy life together. Only you could provoke those once thought unattainable desires. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a coronary,” Jake replied softly as he reached down to collect a few of your lost items. “Just saw you struggling a little and thought I’d stop and help a damsel in distress.” 

“Jake, have I ever given off damsel in distress vibes to you before?” It wasn't the fact that you weren't a damsel. Hell if someone, if anyone had been around when you and your family were being hunted, you would have run into the arms of the nearest bystander. But it was the fact you couldn't get close to Jake. You knew his intentions, you knew his feelings towards you were something more than just platonic. And the worst part of it all was you knew your feelings were also more than something you could pretend didn't exist. Right person, wrong time. 

“Not exactly, no,” Jake replied as he handed you a rogue can of chickpeas. 

“So why on God's green earth do you constantly feel the need to play my saving grace?” The proximity in which you and Jake stood was something bordering a breach of personal space. He stood so close that you could see the small beads of sweat dripping down his chest. Slowing as they caught on the fine chest hairs that littered the expanse of his tanned and muscular self. “And clearly you need more shirts if you feel like running around the neighbourhood topless is appropriate.” 

Jake chuckled at the unimpressed nature of his attire, but he knew deep down, deep deep down, you were looking. 

“One, I have plenty of shirts, and two, any excuse to talk to you is a good enough excuse for me, Brewer.” The very thought of Jake going about his day finding any excuse under the sun to talk to you nearly had you forgetting how to breathe. But it was a fleeting thought, you couldn’t go there. He didn't even know your real name. He wasn't your dead husband. Maybe all these mixed feelings were purely birthed from a desire to not feel so alone. 

As you took the can of chickpeas from Jake's hand, you shut him down with a kind-natured jab. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Don't I know it.” Jake replied with a wink and a smile that could light up the entire night's sky on its darkest of nights before bending over to collect more rouge groceries. Your eyebrow raised in question and concern. What the hell was he doing? 

“What are you doing?” The question was out before you knew what you were saying. It was probably pretty self-explanatory. But your brain wasn't computing Jake's actions. 

“What does it look like I'm doing?” Jake answered with a chuckle. “I'm helping you with your groceries.” You stood there in silence as you watched Jake collect the groceries, wondering what you did to deserve such kindness. 

“I said I didn't need help.” You reminded Jake of the conversation you just had. It had seemed to slip his mind. In one ear and out the other. Attention deficit disorder. 

“No,” Jake stood tall, still sweating from his run. Glistening in the mid-morning sun. “You said you weren't a damsel, that didn’t imply I wasn't a gentleman raised by a woman who’d kick my ass if I didn't stay to help you.” 

“You’re a gentleman?” You had never known another version of Jake Seresin than what he had shown you. To everyone else, he was an arrogant, self-obsessed, egomaniacal who didn’t play well with other aviators who cared more about his abs than he did his friends. He was Hangman. 

But to you? He was simply Jake. Bagman. 

“Only for you.” Jake pressed his lips together in a fine line as he smiled. Your eyes caught Jakes in the morning light, golden and warm as dew drops disappeared from blades of grass and birds sang. The way he looked at you, the way Jake paid way too much attention, the way his eyes trailed down from your eyes to your lips as your fingers touched his. You saw him leaning in, you saw the distance getting smaller and smaller. For a split second, for a small fragment of time, you weren’t going to stop him. 

The silence that lingered wasn’t awkward, but it was intense. The unintentional sexual tension got the better of you as you stepped back and let out a rather large sigh. You had to break the moment, you couldn’t let Jake kiss you. If he kissed you now, you wouldn’t be able to keep a friendly distance. It broke the enchantment as Jake cleared his throat and stepped away. 

“Thanks–” 

“Anytime.” Jake, forever the gentleman, continued to help you collect your groceries and followed you back to your apartment in passive silence. Neither awkward or volatile. It was just peaceful, enjoying the company of one another. 

“You know when I asked what we were doing today I didn’t have unpacking groceries in mind.” Jake teased as he looked around your home, still holding as many broken bags of groceries as he could. “Nice place you’ve got here Brewer.” Jake, for as many times as he’d gotten to the front door of your humble abode, from all the times he’d taken you home or picked you up, he’d never crossed the threshold until this very moment. 

“I told you that I was doing a Sunday reset.” You raised your brow at him as you placed some bags down on the kitchen island, letting out a dramatic sigh. “I didn’t finish till early this morning, Bob actually stayed back and helped me get the last of the stragglers out.” You explained as Jake looked around your home from where he stood across from you at the kitchen bench. 

“Do you uh–” Jake asked softly as he caught the sight of a single photograph hanging by the hallway. A little boy sitting on your lap, dark hair, darkish skin, deep brown eyes, smiling ear to ear. It looked like you were tickling his side to get the very reaction captured in the image. “Need any help today?” Who was that little boy? Did you have a son? A nephew? 

You could tell by Jake's tone that he had seen something he wasn't technically supposed to see, but you weren't sure what it had been. 

“I should be good, not that I don’t enjoy your company, it's just I need some alone time,” You saw the questions swirling in Jake's eyes, but before he could ask any of them you followed up. “You know, because I spend so much of my time at the Hard Deck if I don’t take this time to focus on me, I can’t focus on you guys.” 

“Right, well I best be getting back to it then.” Jake pressed his lips together as he thought about what his next move was going to be. He had one of two options here. The first being he could walk away right this second without embarrassing himself. He could say goodbye and try to forget about to picture he’d seen of you with the small smiling child. The second and probably the most erratic choice was to lean in and kiss the lips that Jake had thought about late at night and first daylight for the last few months. He could hold your cheeks between his palms and rub the heat across your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. He could feel your tongue dance with his in the moment where time would stand completely still–allowing Jake to feel for once in his life, fulfilled. 

“Yeah–” You replied as you moved a little closer to where Jake stood, moving to usher him back to the front door. “I’m sorry that my attempt to one trip it from the car interrupted–- “ What you weren’t expecting in the middle of your apology was to feel Jake’s lips on yours. The feeling took your breath away. For a fleeting moment, you gave into temptation and closed your eyes. You melted into the physical sensation of another human’s lips on yours. You craved this feeling, one of complete silence in the echoing caves of grief. You allowed yourself to feel the tender touch of Jake’s gentle lips melting with yours as you deepened the kiss. Moving along as Jake pressed your back into the cupboard behind you. His hand fell to your waist as you cupped at his cheeks. Desperately trying to feel every inch of Jake that you could before your mind was to overthrow your heart’s deepest desire for love and admiration. 

“Brewer–” Jake sighed into your mouth as his tongue danced with yours. His hands squeezed at your hips, adoring every curve. Jake could stay in this moment forever if you let him. But as you began to trail your hands down the expanse of Jake’s exposed torso, your brain broke from its restraints with a rude awakening. 

“This is what you get for being a noise fucking bitch!” 

The flash was blinding as the image of the smallest man who ever lived yelled out as he was being placed in the back of the police car. The man who killed your family. 

“Stop!” You gasped as you pushed at Jake’s chest. The look of uncertainty immediately plastered itself across his flushed face. His heartbrokenly beautifully forbidden face. 

“You alright?” Jake questioned with concern as his wide eyes scanned your face for signs of anything wrong. “Did I do something?” He was worried he’d crossed the line, you’d told him so many times you weren't interested. That he was reading into whatever this was, wrong. But he never really listened. He thought the chase was a part of whatever the two of you were becoming. 

“No,” You reassured Jake as you tried to contain the panic rising in your chest. “No it's not that you did anything,” You tried to explain as Jake's eyes softened. “It’s just, I’m–I’m not ready for this.” 

“Is there even a ‘this?” Jake asked as he stepped forward once again. Pushing the boundaries almost immediately. “Just spell it out to me simply, yes or no Brewer.” 

The silence as Jake tucked some of your hair behind your ear was deafening and all-consuming. Your eyes never left his as you tried to find the right answer. The moral answer. The safest and clearly the right choice. No, the answer was no. Nothing was going on between you, you weren't ready for whatever came next. You weren't ready to move on. You weren't ready to expose someone, let alone Jake, to what could possibly be death for just the idea of knowing you. It was a hard no with a capital N and a full stop. One word. Just one. 

“Yes–” *Fuck* “But I just need time, I'm not ready for–” You were trying so hard to find the right words as small tears welled in your water line. “I need to sort a few things out before I can do this, if you don't mind just going real slow, like slower than this?” 

You saw the cogs turning in Jake's mind as a smile ear to ear took over his face. 

“I'll do whatever you want me to, just say the words.” Knowing that you really just wanted the day to yourself, Jake tried his best to effortlessly and as seamlessly as possible, tiptoe his way back to the first choice he had. “I uh–I hope you have a good reset.” 

You could tell Jake really wanted to stay, you could tell he was hanging out for you to change your mind. But you weren't about to, if anything you needed Jake out of your home before he saw anything else he wasn't supposed to see or do anything else you knew you weren't supposed to be doing. No matter how good it felt. 

“I hope the run doesn’t involve any more damsels,” You chuckled softly as you nudged Jake with your shoulder. “Guess you finally did earn the nickname ‘Bagman’ after all,” You chuckled again as Jake did too, nodding along in agreement. “Thanks again for helping me with my groceries, Seresin, I really appreciate it.” 

“Anytime–” Jake cooed as he smiled, heading back towards the front door with you. “See you for beer o’clock tomorrow?” 

“Oh, I'll be there.” You replied as you held the front door open for Jake. watching as he headed on down the hall and out of site. As soon as Jake was gone you shut the door tight, making sure it was locked but the three separate safety measures you had in place, before turning and sliding your back down the door until you hit the ground. “Oh my–” 

You couldn’t stop yourself from panicking as you curled your knees tight into your chest. Jake seresin, in your fucking house. KISSING YOU. What the fuck were you doing? You couldn't let your feelings get the better of you. You had a son to avenge, a husband to get justice for. It was bad enough that you'd slipped up and let Bob in on your situation, but you were clearly allowing Jake to get too close. 

As you tried to calm yourself down from the panic, your phone rang softly in the distance. Back up on the kitchen bench, your phone displayed a name you never liked hearing from. It was mandatory though, the check-ins, the updates, the constant “We’re making progress but can't tell you anything more than that.” 

As you peeled yourself from the floor you saw the name. The dreaded contact that made your heart drop every single time. With every call the memories that haunted you grew more and more real. The veil between reality and memory blurs to the point you aren’t sure what’s real and what’s the past. It all hurts the same though, internal suffering. The name that kept bringing it all back, time and time again. Year after year. Never allowing old wounds to heal. 

Roger. 

Suffering is optional……That person didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Tags: 🏷️ @a-reader-and-a-writer @xoxabs88xox @hiireadstuff @buckysteveloki-me @athenabarnes @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @na-ta-sh-aa @kmc1989 @sunlightmurdock @jaxfart @lauenderhaze @sugarcoated-lame @maisie-rebloging-blog @captainmoonknight @seitmai @shanimallina87 @kajjaka @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @imladrisofabookdragon @buckysteveloki-me @mrsevans90 @allepaula @els-marvelvsp @djs8891 @paperbag33

I can’t get over how well written this series is!! It feels like something straight out a movie!

i can’t wait to find out what happens between Jake and Brewer!

i’m heartbroken after reading this chapter 😪

Secret Sacrifices // Jake Seresin

Chapter Four: [Like Father, Like Daughter]

Summary: You receive news from your case worker about a family member, its sends you into a spiral. Bob is awol from the Hard Deck and Jake is constantly up to his old tricks.

Warnings: Death, mentions of witness protection. Jake Seresin x F!reader

Word Count: 3k

Author Note: Been trucking along at this series. Really trying to spend a little time each day writing a few paragraphs for some projects. And I really do LOVE these two.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Throughout history, there has always been a superstition that expands across many belief systems. Mirrors can be seen as a portal to another dimension; the reflection staring back at you is another version of yourself. Another version of you from another timeline or realm. 

If that were true, you’d give anything to trade places with the reflection staring back at you as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the small hallway mirror that hung for aesthetics. 

“What do you mean?” Your voice shook with confusion, this couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening. “Roger, what the fuck do you mean my dad died?” 

Roger Spague was your case agent. He had been assigned your case right after the funerals of your husband and son. Soon after everything occurred, you were encouraged to enter witness protection to safeguard your testimony. As the only witness who could help bring the men who murdered your family and organised a multilevel drug syndicate to justice, your word was more valuable than gold itself. 

“We couldn’t tell you,” Roger has always been a rather hard nut to crack. He took no bullshit and smiled very rarely. He saw the world for black and white more than he ever did grey. Morals were good or bad, nothing could be in between. “He, unfortunately, passed away a month ago, we’ve been informed of the burial site, Hollow Hills. However, we really advise against you visiting anytime soon,” Rogers’s monotone voice echoed in your head as you struggled to hold your composure. 

“Why? Why would I not run out this door right now to visit my father’s fucking grave you asshole!” You hissed into the phone. Surely this was all some sick joke or a nightmare that never ended. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t breathe properly. You were almost certain your heart was breaking apart yet again. The shattering pieces would surely slice into your arteries, causing you the bleed out and be at peace with the pain you’d carried for over three years. 

“Because they could be monitoring the site, do you really want to risk everything you’ve worked so hard to protect?” Roger reminded you through the phone. At this stage, you were sure that all the tears you’d cried over the years had permanently stained your cheeks. Maybe one day you’d wake up with no more tears left to cry. 

“Roger–” You sobbed as you made your way into your bedroom. You slumped onto the side and crumpled in on yourself. The only support system keeping you up was your elbows digging into your knees “I can’t do this anymore.” 

“You don’t have a choice to quit this,” Roger, with his little sympathise and tunnel vision, reminded you. “You don’t get to leave this until those bastards are behind bars, and we’ve put too much work into this to have you throw it all away now.” 

“But he’s my dad,” You never got to say goodbye. You never got to tell him how much you loved him, how much you still and always will. You never got to hold your mother or comfort your sister. Everything you’d missed, everything you’d sacrificed was starting to outway the idea, the pipe dream of justice. You were, at the very basic explanation, tired of this life. “I need to visit his grave.” 

“Not until we know for certain that there isn’t anyone monitoring his grave just waiting for you to show up.” The reality was hard to accept, you didn’t want to accept it. But the fact of the matter was, that you have just lost another member of your family, and there was absolutely nothing you could do to help yourself forgive that loss. 

“Fuck you,” You spat as tears spilled over your lower lash line. “Fuck you and fuck all of this do you hear me?” 

“No skin off my nose there, just remember why you’re doing this, who you’re doing this for, Y/n.” Just hearing your real name, and hearing those syllables leave someone’s mouth made you feel real. That you were still a real person with real emotions and valid feelings. “Remember what’s a stake here, they get the chance to kill you now? Then what’s all this been for?” 

“I hate you–” Was all you were able to get out before you broke down completely, deciding that the floor was the best place to be. You hung up the phone and made sure to throw it as far away as you possibly could. 

The carpet soaked up as many tears as possible before you fell asleep crying, sobbing until your eyes could no longer remain open and a steady rhythm took over in your chest. Sleep….it never came easy, but you needed it. 

By the time you slowly opened your eyes again, the sun had risen higher in the sky and the ice cream you’d brought in your weekly shop was melted into a puddle of liquid. You knew as you slowly peeled yourself off the carpet that you had to get yourself together before you lost the plot. So you trailed out into the hallway and made your way back to the kitchen to put away your groceries. The bags still sat where you and Jake had left them on the island bench. 

“You’re okay,” It was two simple words, but the lies that read between the lines were big enough to make them seem like a whole novel of untruthful affirmations. “You’re okay,” Again you repeated the same two words as you unpacked your groceries. “You’re okay.” Hoping that if you said them enough……

You’d hopefully start to believe them. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Cutting lemons was one of those mundane tasks you actually enjoyed. It gave you something to do while zoning out. You’d only been at work for roughly an hour before the patrons started to pile in after work. Naval men and women from all walks of life all heading to the local watering hole. It wasn't too long after you started on your fourth lemon that Jake made his appearance in your peripheral vision. There was no doubt that his proximity to you was the cause behind your palpitations. 

Jake stood on the other side of the bar, smiling his signature shit-eating grin at you while he watched your knife skills. 

“What's a guy gotta do to get you to handle him like that lemon?” Trust Jake to lead with the unorthodox hello. When you looked up and met your gaze, you knew you were in deep water. The smile that smeared itself across your face was as genuine as it could ever be. 

“I didn’t know you were into knife play Seresin?” You saw the way Jake's eyes slightly widened with promiscuous enlightenment at your reply. “You just after the usual?” You asked as you placed the knife you’d been using into the sink. 

“Yes ma’am, and to see the pretty barkeep,” Jake replied as he sat down on one of the empty barstools. He looked far too handsome in his flight suit, but you’d never tell him that. His ego was already inflated enough. 

“Penny! Hangman here to see you!” You called out as you washed your hands from all the lemon juice. Jake wouldn’t deny it if you asked that his eyes had dropped from looking at your hair to your ass as you turned around briefly to dry them on the rag that sat nearby. 

“I was talking about you–” He smiled as you turned back around to face him. His elbows were resting against the top of the bar, casually, like he was truly at home. 

“Bet you say that to all the ladies–”  You added as you picked up a glass, going about making Jake his usual order. 

“Nope, just you.” It was quiet, a little more serious with an underlying sense of admiration. Jake meant it, he thought you were gorgeous. From the moment he first met you, he saw all the beauty and grace that seamlessly radiated from your aura. “I think you’re beautiful, Brewer.” 

Jake's complement knocked the wind from your lungs as you held the glass at an angle and watched the amber liquid pool at the bottom. Slowly but surely filling the glass to the top with a perfect head of froth. 

“What did I tell you about flattery?” You sighed as you placed the beer down in front of the aviator who was slowly capturing your whole heart in the palm of his hands. Completely unaware that he was falling in love with a complete stranger. 

“That it won’t get me anywhere–” Jake grinned, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “But if I remember correctly, it did.” The sensation of having Jake’s lips pressed against yours came flooding back as the heat in your cheeks rose. “Let me take you out to dinner?” 

“Jake,” You had to sigh. “Not this again?” Playing a little hard to get wouldn’t hurt the man, would it? 

“Or come over to mine then?” Jake proposed with a cheeky Serein grin you assumed he got from his mother. 

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled as you let your hands rest on your bar, leaning in a little closer to Jake. “So I can contract whatever deceases you’re harbouring in that petri dish of a bachelor pad?” Jake pretended to be wounded as he placed a hand over his chest at your remark. You shook your head as you let out a small laugh. “I don’t think so, Seresin, but I’ll give you points for trying.” 

Jake sat there momentarily, just drinking in the sight of the woman who had slowly become his favourite person to be around. This was his favourite part of the entire day. Getting to come to the Hard Deck, sit on his stool by the bar and talk to you. He thought about you all day long. About all the ways you did our hair and those mom jeans that hugged your waist just right. He’d catch himself thinking about the way you humbly count your tips at the end of each night, or the way you laugh with Fanboy over the most insane things. He would often daydream about your smile, your eyes, and your ability to captivate the entire bar. 

“Fine,” Jake knocked his knuckles on the wood of the bar as he rose to his feet once again. “Suit yourself, but just for the record, I like my bachelor pad very much.” For as much as Jake truly did love his quick, tidy and rather put-together home, he sure wouldn’t have minded the slightest bit if you lived there too. 

“I think the local community of gonorrhoea would say the same.” You took the card Jake was handing over. “Starting a tab?” 

“Depends, what’s Bradshaws looking like?” Jake was always the first to add an extra beer or three onto Bradley’s outstanding tab. You were always the first person to turn a blind eye then doing so. As you looked up Roosters name in the system the number was much higher than you originally expected. It seemed as though the boys had well and truly been taking advantage of Rooster’s current love-hate relationship with the Hard Deck barkeep. 

“Eh, he owes me a couple hundred.” You smiled softly back at Jake as you placed his card in the draw. 

“Yeah, start a table angel, gives me more of an excuse to linger,” Jake replied with a genuine smile, his eyes were soft and swirling with ease. He’d never felt this way about a woman before. You gentled him to a point where if you asked him tomorrow to run away with you, he’d follow you to the end of the world.

“I’m sure that’s called stalking–” You sighed as you turned around momentarily to pick up your knife and head back to cutting your lemon slices. 

“Consider me your biggest fan then, Brewer.” Jake grinned ear to ear as he took a sip of his beer, heading off toward the pool table where you knew he’d be for the next few hours.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

The Hard Deck was rather busy for a Monday afternoon. The bar was in high spirits as you manoeuvred yourself around the floor collecting empty glasses and cans. You could feel Jake’s eyes burning into you as you spoke to patrons and cleaned up tables. But there was one person you hadn’t seen yet that you needed to talk to desperately. Bob. 

“Where’s our resident underage drinker this evening gentlemen?” You cooed as you made your way over to your favourite group of aviators. “And Nix.” You added as you gave Phoenix a side hug. 

“Haven’t seen him actually?” Fanboy replied, his answer wasn’t one you wanted to hear. Usually, if someone wasn’t here by this time of the night then they weren’t coming at all. You really needed to speak to Bob. 

“Do you think he'll be in?” You questioned as you let go of Phoenix and went about collecting empty glasses. You knew Bob had annual leave coming up, he'd been talking about it for weeks now. 

“Why the sudden obsession with Bob, Brewer?” Rooster chimed in. “You guys on the down low or something?” That very question had Jake's blood boiling. You could see the jealousy clear as day smeared across his face from across the pool table.

“I’m uh—” It came out before you knew what you were saying. “I'm seeing someone, casually, it's really new.” Your eyes very quickly glanced over at Jake who now wore that same smug grin that he normally wore. Only this time his eyes were swirling with administration. “It's not Bob, but I appreciate your interest in my love life, Bradshaw.” 

“Lord help the man who ends up under your control,” Bradley rolled his eyes with a deep resentment you couldn't quite understand. The feud between the pain of you was something that formed from a mere misunderstanding. Surely the two of you could let bygones be bygones and move on. 

“An apology will wipe that ever-mounting tab clear Bradshaw, you know that.” You teased as you made your way back to the bar. You could feel the back of your throat growing tighter, and the sting of holding back tears that had become an all too familiar sensation began to grow. You couldn’t keep yourself busy enough to forget your dad was dead and no one, not a single soul had told you of his passing until he was six feet under. No amount of work could keep your mind from trailing to all the memories that played aloud in your mind, drowning out the mundane chatter from patrons. 

“Can I get another beer sweetheart?” You hear one of the men say as he held his head up with the palm of his hand. He was using his elbow as an anchor, keeping him from slumping over onto the bar. 

“Sure, what are you drinking?” You facked a smile so easily readable that Jake saw right through it from across the Hard Deck. He could sense that you were off, something wasn’t right. One minute you were happy, the next he didn't recognise the look in your eyes. 

“Whatever you don’t mind tasting after you finish your shift.” The man said with the confidence of a much taller man. It made the damn burst inside you. Fuck this and fuck everything. 

“Careful, the succulent reminder of your own inadequacies walking this way might cause a scene real quick if you don’t back off.” The problem was simple, you’re doing it all on your own. Choosing to stay all closeted in your own little bubble, longing for love, friends and family. Scared of death, scared of life, taking it out on those who tried to get close. But as Jake walked towards the bar, you felt like you could rely on him. He made you feel safe even if being around you put him in unimaginable danger. “That’s what I thought too.” You chuckled to yourself as the man nodded and sighed. 

“You good?” Jake asked as he decided against following the first of many of Penny’s rules for the residence group of aviators. Mavericks rag-tag team of adopted children. The first and most important being no aviators behind the bar. Jake, however, didn’t care. 

“I feel like I’m rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic here,” You growled as you poured the man his beer. The last one you were going to pour him for the night. “My life is falling apart around me and here I fucking am pouring beers for America’s best and brightest tax-guzzling fighter pilots.” 

Jake could very much sense that something was wrong, this wasn’t like you. He thought, however, since your shared moment in your apartment yesterday, that he had some sort of upper hand here over all the others. 

“You need to take a break, just pause for a second.” Jake placed his hand softly on your shoulder as he stood behind you. Whatever was going on inside your head was bleeding out into reality. 

The feeling broke you. Jake’s touch, it wasn’t your husband’s. The man you got killed. It was Jake’s touch that broke you from whatever restraints you had tangled yourself in. The barbed wire that cut you right to your bones. 

“No, you can’t just pause, because in real life the trauma doesn’t just stop,” You broke as you spun around into Jake’s chest. He was quick to look around as people from all walks of life looked around to bear witness to your impending mental breakdown. He caught Bradley’s gaze before anyone else's. Even the man who had unintentionally started a war with the new Hard Deck manager was worried about you. 

“Penny–” Jake sighed as he looked over at the woman who still ran the show from behind the scenes. She nodded in agreement, a silent one. One where it was now Jake’s responsibility to get you out of the Hard Deck before you could draw any more attention to yourself. 

“Let's go outside alright? Get some air–?” Jake tried to reason with you as you shook your head and balled your fist into his white cotton T. Your eyes swirled with a pain he’d never be able to process. A pain so unfathomable it sounded fictional. 

“God doesn’t work that way or whoever the fucks in charge of this godforsaken hell I’m living!! You can do absolutely everything right and still…. Good, people, die.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

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SO EXCITED!!

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist (Rooster x Reader)

After Bradley breaks things off with his girlfriend just days before the start of a deployment, he expects a few lonely months of nobody writing to him or waiting for his return. But the fateful arrival of a package from a class of fourth graders learning about aviation changes everything. Suddenly he has a group of inquisitive pen pals that he's more than happy to converse with, and their pretty teacher is someone he finds he wants to get to know better, too.

roosterforme masterlist

Coming 4/2!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

THIS IS SOOOOO HEARTBREAKINGLY GOOD!!

We're on this together. (Chapter 1)

Bradley Bradshaw × Fem!Wife!Reader

Summary: Nobody warned you for how hard it is to become a mother,same for Bradley.

TW: infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf. Mostly angst.

Tears were streaming down your face,your hands were trembling. Searching for Bradley's number in your contact list has never been this difficult.

Your fingers slid across parts of the screen you didn't want to touch, making your frustration even worse.

The phone line rang at a deafening volume. Once, twice, three times until it goes to voicemail.

His stupid voicemail.

"Hi,its me Bradley. Please drop your message!"

Taking this as a sign, you chose not to try again.

After all, talking to Bradley about it right now would only make him worry for nothing, considering he was busy on deployment and miles away from you. He was about to return this week.

It wasn't something he could solve. Maybe it was but not right now.

Within a few minutes your phone rang. As his name popped up on the screen, a heart emoji next to it and his photo of him grinning stupidly, you felt terrible for doing this to him.

Not only did you let down your own dreams, you were about to let down his too.

You replied, remaining silent. You expected your voice to sound like a lump in your throat.

"Baby, are you there? I couldn't get to the phone in time at first."

You were motionless, your lack of words showed him that. "I'm fine", giving yourself some time, you suddenly started to feel everything you didn't feel until you got home.

"I was at the doctor's today."

"Why are you talking like it's the end of the world? Are you okay?"

Throughout his breathing, it was easy to imagine him even stopping whatever he was doing to pay better attention to you; Not because it wasn't there before. You should have called Penny or someone, they would know how to take care of you.

"Wait, is it about babies? Tell me you're joking," he finished with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You could imagine and hear it perfectly.

In the past, when you received good news, you would pretend that something bad was coming, now it's just another thing you regret doing.

You were selfish for talking to him, he was so far away; You could talk to him about it when he got home.

Talking and doing this and that now would cause him more anxiety than he ever had in his hectic daily tour life. Still, he was the only one you needed.

"No, quite the opposite."

The call suffered a long pause, filled with his deep sighs and persistent tears streaming down his cheeks.

You didn't let a single tear fall until you got home, but did you verbalize it? Putting it into words made things different; it felt more real.

"Fuck," he mumbled, clearly a little out of place.

“I can't have kids, Bradley,” your words were interrupted by the growl you were trying to hold back.

He could tell when you were talking to him that everything hit you at once. Over the years, he was able to recognize even small details.

''I'm the reason we tried and it never worked. I cursed it."

"No, baby," he took a deep breath. "Please don't blame yourself. You know it's not your fault." You ran your fingers desperately through your hair; This is what it must be like to feel useless on the phone. Just what you imagined before you made the call. It was bad to announce this to him. "Are you alone? I can ask someone to check on you. They’ll do that, okay?

“Please,” You didn't want to spend the rest of the day by yourself. Also, even though you didn't want to talk to anyone but Bradley, you knew Penny would understand you better, she knew how to make you feel less bad, it would be nice to be around her. And once she mentioned she went through something like that so maybe she would understand you.

Being alone with your harsh thoughts will not be a good option anyway. "I thought about calling her, but I finally gave up, I didn't know what to do, I still don't. Calling you still doesn't seem like a good idea, but I didn't know what to do."

Your weak voice was killing Bradley. If it made him sad to hear that, he couldn't imagine what it was like for you.

"You did great, baby, this is a tough situation but we're on this journey together. You can ask for anything baby, remember?" He smiled, a muffled smile came over the line; It made you feel a little better.

"We can still have children, you know that."

You wanted to tell him that what works for others may not work for you, that your condition may not be that malleable because your condition is genetic. Still, you didn't know if they were true or not, all your thoughts might just be the result of your momentary frustration, but they might also be true.

You need to talk to Bradley about this, everything that's going on in his mind. You didn't want to do this over the phone anymore.

“We can try,” you sniffled, still avoiding the tears you didn't even know were falling. "We can try." You repeated, trying to convince yourself.

"Talk to me, baby. Try to distract yourself a bit, huh? Please. Do you want me to turn the call off? Maybe you can take a long bath with your favorite bubbles or eat something different. That might help."

Even though it sounded wrong, his desperation to help you was adorable. Talking to him made everything perfect, his voice was soothing, you could hear him talking for hours. Now it was no different.

“I just want to hear your voice,” you said, lying on the cold floor of the main room. It would be nice to sleep. It seemed reasonable to forget the previous hours for a few minutes. "You are busy?"

"Not exactly."

"Then tell me how the mission went."

His voice sounded flatter and softer, you could imagine how uneasy he was even from the phone, it was possible to imagine him striding around the room with the phone in his hand. He talked about the mission details the night before. The contrast of how you described your previous day with what happened at the right moment was painful, happy and suddenly you were breaking it.

Everyone knew that Bradley dreamed of having kids, that kids were running around the house and so were you, you wanted to have kids with him even more but with you he would never have one.

"Can I say something?" You asked, taking a deep breath,cutting through his words. "I love you,I love you so much."

Everything was unfair, you both tried so hard. He, too, had become weak from trying, just like you.

"I love you too, baby. This," you could see him in your mind, pausing and gesturing with his hands, "this won't change anything,okay? I still love you so much as the day i fell in love with you."

"We are on this journey together."

"We are on this journey together.”

—-----

Your body trembled.

A cold hand was wandering around your waist as you slowly opened your eyes, feeling a ridiculous headache fill your vision. Your eyes found Bradley crouched on the ground in front of you, and he looked good compared to you. His eye bags were not purple from the 4 hour sleep he was getting,or his hair wasn't messy after the cold,rainy and windy weather out there.

"What are you doing here?" You frowned. Bradley chuckled as you laid your head down once the headache made you feel like you were going to throw up. He could answer your question but you were flattered, he wouldn't think you noticed he was there because he knew you needed him.

So he ignored it, helping you get up.

"Come on, get up. It's cold on the floor, I'll put you to bed." He tried to get you to stand up for him - he failed; but you shifted your weight onto his body, wrapping your arms around his neck, which he found worriedly cute.

“I need you,” you whispered, drunk and sleepy, burying your face in his coat. Let its scent warm you. He smelled amazing.

It was a relief to hear him say that. He didn't want to get into an argument about how it would affect his job in the near future, as you had fought before for the same reason. "I know my baby." He kissed your hair, hugged your waist, and carried you to your room. “She wants to lay down with me.”

He laid you down on the bed, doing the same as he lay on your side, face up and facing the white ceiling.

They both knew it was necessary to speak, but neither knew who should speak first or what they should speak about.

You ran your fingers over his stomach, placing your palm under his shirt, warming his cold hand with your body. You moved closer to his body, nestling into his side as he wrapped his arm around you.

"Tell me, what's on your mind?" He said without looking directly at you.

"There's a lot", your mere words made his throat dry. “It's weird knowing your body can't do what it's supposed to do, especially when you want it to,” you gasped through sobs, his grip pulling you closer to his chest for comfort. "I'm afraid you'll stay with me and a few years from now you'll realize you made the wrong choice." These words hurt him. It hurt him so much to see you blaming yourself.

He hugged you even tighter and asked you to look at him. "I'm not going to leave you, okay? I'm in love with you. That won't change, and it's not your fault. We can try IVF as if it will work, and it's worked for a few people, and we'll have a happy and healthy baby. We have the money for it. If the money I make as a pilot isn't enough, i can even find a part-time job. I can enter just for you, I'm married to you and I love you so much, why should I leave you?"

There were tears in your eyes and you hoped he was right. "What if it doesn't work? If my body miscarries? If we try and never succeed? I don't know if I'm ready to try again-"

Before you finished your sentence, he grabbed your cheek and gave you a messy kiss. He was far from okay, he was desperate, you didn't know how to decipher whether he was trying to silence you or show his emotions. The salty taste of your tears accompanied by the burning in his throat didn't help at all.

You put your hand on his chest and stop him. He was in distress, he probably wanted to stop you with a waterfall of negative thoughts but he didn't know how.

“I don't want to try, I just don't know what to do yet, and it's killing me right now.” You were complaining.

He kissed your forehead and let you lie down.

"We will find a way. It's still new, we can think better or find other ways. Adoption is also a good option, but of course if everything happens at the right time."

You stayed silent for a while, imagining a parallel where Bradley was right and things worked out. Although you were still not convinced by this, you agreed with him. After all, there would be no other way, and you still wanted to have children.

“Adoption sounds good,” you mumbled against his chest. You hadn't thought about it yet, it hadn't even crossed your mind. “There is no risk and there is no way we can go wrong.”

You felt relieved that he was there for you, guiding you to feel better about this.

"You see?" he asked with what looked like a weak smile. "We'll find a way because I don't plan on having kids with anyone but you, so it has to be with you. Whether you like it or not." He joked, drawing a smile from you as he touched your nose with a wet kiss.

It was incredible how he managed to make even the most difficult moments seem lighter.

"Good, because I still want to have your stupid kids.”

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