#exercising baby

[obsob]

despite, despite, despite!!

#mine #original #fun fact when i first started colouring this i like couldnt remember what th trans flag looked like #i just like. did it then was like . hmm. that is the flag of slovakia i think #anyway #i missed tdov by a mile but. hello #i missed th day bc i was at my bfs house. thats t4t love baby #i hope u hve all had a good easter!! #thank u to everyone who inquired abt commissions i am surprised abt th amount of interest!! #when this batch is done i will open more. will probably b a regular thing :3 #i will now do exercise and have a bath i thinky #i need to make myself read this book...im so not use to horror anytime i read anything remotely unsettling im like oohoohohohmmhhmm n #dont read for like. 4 days #ive read like 200 pages in 10 days KSFBSBJ get a GRIP #anyway. good evening

[anna-scribbles]

if the agrestes weren't rich i think that gabriel would be the normal one. like gabe's problem is that he stopped running into natural limits due to absurd wealth and his obsessive nature led him to develop some kind of god complex where he won't accept that anything is out of his control. I think that if gabe was broke again and just simply couldn't afford to go on an international goose chase for ancient magic artifacts of untold power, if he had to work a 9-5 to live and couldn't just disappear into his basement lair to commit domestic terrorism and say evil monologues to himself, then he would be way more normal. he'd just be some guy. he might even let himself have a mowhawk again. but I think that emilie would be way LESS normal if they weren't rich. like emilie needs so many people to be obsessed with her so much all the time in order for her to function. and gabe would still have his toxic codependent obsession with her, sure, but that wouldn't be nearly enough. emilie has to be at the center of the world's spotlight at all times because she doesn't know how to exist if she's not performing. anyway all this to say I am so certain that if the agrestes were not disgustingly wealthy, emilie agreste would one million percent be running a massive family vlogger youtube channel

#this post is sponsored by the version of emilie agreste who lives in my mind #in this scenario adrien still exists so maybe he's a normal baby somehow. but the important thing is that he's still exploited #this is just an exercise for me in thinking about how much of the agreste family dynamic you could preserve if they were middle class #how much wealth is an enabler of the terrible things happening in that house #but yeah agreste family vloggers au. I guess. #where adrien shows up at school and everybody knows him because his mom posted his potty training videos online and everything since #he has no secrets every milestone he's ever had has been packaged up and sold to the public #until he becomes chat noir of course. etc #oh god emilie would vlog her own death😭 help #get ready with me to die and haunt the narrative🤩 #ml #anna rambles #I wrote this because im not finishing my homework:(

[egretregret]

Uhhhh.... now theres more with better quality

#etho #ethoslab #minecraft #zombiecleo #bdubs #gtws #cletho #goodtimeswithscar #bdoubleo100 #limited life #trafficblr #oops exercising baby is on there twice

[breelandwalker]

Witchcraft Exercise - Creating Correspondences

There are dozens of plant species in the arsenal of the green witch. Commonly-used varieties and usage varies somewhat between traditions, but most of us are fairly familiar with industry standards like basil, bay, rosemary, sage, and so on.

But what do you do when faced with a plant that has no listed magical correspondences anywhere that you can find in your witchcraft library? Simple - you create some.

Allow me to demonstrate with a little plant I found in my own backyard. It's a common weed called Virginia copperleaf (Acalypha virginica). But despite it's widespread range and abundant growth as a field weed, there are surprisingly few references to the plant in regional folk medicine and none at all that I could find in contemporary witchcraft.

So in order to incorporate this hardy little weed into my practice, I set about creating some correspondences for it.

First, I researched the physical properties of the plant. It is a small annual spurge with long taproots, a resistance to drought and many herbicides, and a reputation for fast growth and being difficult to eradicate from fields due to prolific seeding. The leaves turn coppery-red in the fall and small spiky flowers bloom among the foliage. It is also mildly poisonous. The juice of the plant may cause contact dermatitis or a mild rash in some people and if ingested, it may cause GI symptoms such as vomiting and diarrhea.

Next, I researched references to the plant in folk medicine. I could only find a single reference that cited copperleaf as a possible diuretic and expectorant. That does track with the previous mention of GI symptoms, but it doesn't mean the plant is safe to use. I did discover that an alternate name for the plant is three-seeded mercury or mercury weed, likely because of its' tendency for fast growth and the fact that it is propagated by the wind.

So now comes the business of creating the correspondences, using the physical properties of the plant as a basis.

The first and most obvious association is strength. Any weed that is resistant to drought and herbicide and uprooting is bound to be useful for spells involving tenacity and fortitude. Prosperity is also a likely use, both because of the name copperleaf and the way in which the plant grows and spreads quickly. Because of the alternate name mercury weed and the wind propagation, it could be used for wind magic or communication spells. (I often associate the element of air with communication and the name of a messenger god is right there as well, but your mileage may vary.)

The plant could also be used as an ingredient for baneful magic, either to bind and frustrate someone's efforts by consuming available ground where their ambitions might grow, or in its' capacity as a mild poison, to cause physical discomfort and stomach trouble.

So in the end, I have a handful of copperleaf and a listing in my witchbook that details the properties of the plant and notes that it could be useful for spells involving strength, tenacity, prosperity, wind, or communication, as well as possible baneful uses including binding, discomfort, and sickness.

This is my system for assigning correspondences to previously-unknown plants, and I encourage readers to use it as a template for their own practices or to create their own system. Either way, I recommend the use of a field guide or plant identification app like PlantNet to properly identify plants as you find them. Remember to forage and harvest responsibly, be a good steward of the land around you, and always label your plant cuttings.

Happy Witching! 💚🌿

(If you're enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. You can also check out my show Hex Positive wherever fine podcasts are heard. 😊)

More witchcraft exercises here:

#witch community #witchcraft exercises #baby witch #witchcraft #witchblr #witch tips #green witchcraft #plant magic #Advice for Beginner Witches

[bakudekublogblog]

the funniest part about coming to mha late, was I knew bkdk was extremely controversial and had seen some of the discourse about from the outside, so when I finally decided to watch it I was shocked to discover just how much of the plot revolved around izuku having a huge crush on kacchan

#bakudeku #bkdk #chases him down with a broken arm to tell him his secret #gets powers from all might bc he saw his beloved was the boy being attacked by the sludge villain #ochako: isn’t that the kid who bullies you? izuku: YEAH HES AMAZING #I WANNA BEAT YOU BC YOURE AMAZING KACCHAN #copies all his moves #only decides to take the tournament seriously when kacchan does #just the entirety of kacchan v deku part two #trains with kacchan shares his top secret meetings with all night with kacchan #watches him longingly as he saves to win during the training exercise #goes into a bloodlust when kacchan takes a hit for him #only returns home when kacchan pleads with him to come back #kacchan gets murdered specifically because izuku loves him so much #izuku takes the fight with Shigaraki to the ground to protect kacchan’s dying body #longingly staring at him as kacchan saves all night #little baby izuku chasing him around and staring at him bc he’s just that besotted #kudo teasing izuku by bringing up kacchan #and that’s all just izuku don’t even get me started on Our Gaylord and Savior Kacchan

[silentgrim]

forced to touch grass by their dads!

#kids are stuck home all day they need some exercise #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #sim: roux potato #sim: boo potato #+ leaf #took baby leaf too poor boy needed some fresh air #he's an elder now *sobs*

[lover-of-mine]

Probie Buck 🫶

#911 #911edit #evanbuckleyedit #evan buckley #buck #911 abc #911 fox #911 on fox #flashing tw #my edit #this w2as an EXERCISE in color correcting #jesus #why is season one so warm??? #its funny because the site i got the episodes there's a call for the show in the beginning and the call for the show is color corrected #they so know they fucked up they corrected it apskokasokasokaoskaoksoaks #anyway #hes so pretty i wil cry about it #he could ruin my life and id say thank you #baby boy 🫶🫶🫶🫶

[qvincvnx]

having a popular blog on tumblr (or popular friends) is just making a post about a thing that happens to you on a pretty regular basis because of your specific job or neighborhood or whatever, and telling it funny and charmingly and cleverly because you are a funny and charming and clever person, and then having TOTAL strangers in the notes be like "ummmmm this doesn't sound very likely to me 🤨. op your life would be so weird if that happened. i bet it's [thing it's definitely fucking not]"

and you can't even-- there's no way to give constructive feedback to people that incapable of interpersonal interaction or reading comprehension. and also, because you are a funny and charming and clever individual who lives a life of whimsy and compassion with GRITTED FUCKING TEETH, you don't even get to bite them to death like they deserve.

now imagine this happens every time you tell a story, at least once but usually more in the order of 5-10x, just because if 1% of people are joyless fucking cunts and your posts circulate more of those will see it.

anyway it's literally fine normal AND good to set boundaries about what you're willing to tolerate from strangers, including setting boundaries about followers or making posts unrebloggable and so on, even if you are a funny and charming and clever individual who lives a life of comical whimsy.

#post brought to you by someone telling me baby drops were probably exercise equipment and not noticing my joke. #and also ship getting vagued. dont do that shit.

[elizabethemerald]

In her Arms

Jazz had been on the move almost non stop ever since she had heard about the explosion. Her parents were dead. The portal in Amity was destroyed. The city officials said that Danny was killed by the blast too. But he wasn't. She knew he wasn't. She didn't need the boo-merang to tell her that Danny was still out there some where. He was alive, and she would find him.

She had only stopped moving long enough to pass out in her car for a few hours during the drive to Gotham City. She was following a faint trail, a mere pressure in her mind that was leading her closer and closer to where her brother was. Whatever ecto contamination her parents had done to her over the years had given her a connection to her brother and she would follow that connection to very jaws of hell itself if she had to.

She was running on fumes now. So was her car. She had made it into Gotham and the pull brought her to one of the poorer neighborhoods. In fact it looked like it was the poorest and most crime ridden part of the city. Graffiti covered every wall, multiple burnt out wrecks of cars littered the sides of the streets.

Jazz slammed on the breaks and opened her car door. She was next to an abandoned and fenced off lot and her brother was here. She could feel him. She dashed tears and sweat from her eyes, slung her weapons over her shoulder and tied her hair back. When she left her car she left it with the door open and the key in the ignition. She doubted it would start again and she didn't care enough, all she cared about was her brother.

She crouched next to the fence and the leaped, putting her ectoplasmic strength into the jump as she easily cleared the twelve foot tall fence. She landed on the other side in another crouch, her eyes zeroing in on the woman standing in the middle of the lot.

The woman was easily as tall as Jazz and she was 6'8" thanks to the ectoplasm in her veins. The woman had long black hair and was built like an absolute tank. She was wearing work out clothes that showed off all of her muscles. If Jazz were in a better mental state she would be jealous.

But all she could focus on was the toddler chair just past the woman. The chair that held a small black haired, blue eyed boy that was her entire world. Danny. He was younger and smaller than he should be, but she would recognize him anywhere, and she had enough experience with ghostly shenanigans to recognize a simple deaging. She could deal with that later, now she just needed to recover her brother.

"Give him to me!" Jazz demanded as she stormed closer.

The beefy woman was between her and Danny, she couldn't risk angering her, but all the words were trapped in her mind. All the deescalation techniques she learned, all the psychology she dedicated herself to, was all trapped and stuck. The woman turned to face her and Jazz pulled out her creep stick, her hands shaking.

"Give him to me." She said again, the words feeling like nails dragging past her throat yet it was all she could say.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." The woman said. She kept her hands open and spread apart. Some small part of Jazz's mind said that she was trying to keep her body language open and friendly. But that part was overshadowed by her fear and her exhaustion.

"Give him to me!" She shrieked, wondering if she should be coughing up blood with how difficult the words were to drag out. She dashed forward and swung her creepstick. The woman block and Jazz swung again and again. Each blow the woman either blocked or dodged without any visible effort.

"You have skills sister." The woman said and she went on the attack.

Now Jazz was getting driven back across the lot. She was clearly out matched in every possible way, but she couldn't back down. That was her brother. Danny. Danny. Danny. That was her brother. That was her brother.

The woman twisted her body and with a powerful kick the creepstick was sent flying across the yard. Jazz didn't give her a moment to gloat at disarming her and instead pushed forward with her bare fists and legs, managing to push the other woman back one step at a time. Still she looked calm and confident as if she did this everysingle day.

Jazz ducked under one of the woman's blows and managed to pull her knife. She trust the blade forward with all her might, putting her full ectoplasm enhanced strength behind the blow. And watched in horror as the blade shattered against the woman's shoulder.

"Well struck!" The woman seemed genuinely impressed. Then she twisted and almost without effort threw Jazz to the ground.

Jazz gasped in air as she stared up at her, then past her to where her brother sat in the chair, watching like this was all an exciting movie.

"Please." She forced the word out, like broken glass down her throat. "Give him to me."

She begged. Desperately. The woman startled and pulled a cord from her waist. With a flick of her wrist the cord wrapped around Jazz's body.

"We'll soon find the truth of this. Why do you want the boy?"

The cord glowed around her and even past her pain and her fear and her exhaustion the words came.

"He's my brother."

She gasped the words out.

"He's my brother."

Her throat was closing and her breath was coming faster and faster. Her own fist collided with her forehead.

"He's my brother."

She sobbed the words out, her vision fading as she hit herself again. A high pitched keening noise pulled itself out of her, no more words were coming, just her raw expression of grief and longing and she hit herself again. She smacked her fist into her forehead and when she went to do it again, she felt a tiny hand wrap around her wrist.

"No Jazz! No hurt. No hurt."

Danny's little voice. Just like when he was first a child and would stop her from melting down. When her parents ignored her being touch adverse, when they made her speak even when she was nonverbal, when the noise of the lab wouldn't stop and pounded into her head like a jack hammer.

She didn't try to pull her arm out of his hand but she hit herself again with her other hand. She could hear Danny begging her to stop, but she couldn't, she couldn't, she couldn't. She went to hit herself again and a strong, calloused hand grabbed her wrist, than just as gently as if she were something precious and valuable held her other hand to keep keep her from hurting herself.

"Now, young one, there is no call for that."

"Jazz it's ok." Danny whispered, because he knew the loud voices bothered her. Then he started humming, so softly she could barely feel it, yet his humming vibrated with ectoplasm and carried down all the way to her infant ghost core.

He was hugging her and holding her and humming to her and slowly, muscle by muscle her tension unwound. She could think again, she didn't think she would be able to speak yet, but at the very least she could pull her wrists from the gentle hold of the other woman and wrap her arms around her little brother.

She held her brother, her Danny and sobbed and sobbed. She gone through too much. She had bee told she had lost her parents that everyone she loved, including her beloved brother were dead, her home destroyed. Then she had driven half way across the country following a desperate thread to try and find him only to be beaten by the first stranger she encountered. But at the very least, she had her brother back in her arms again. Just like she was supposed to.

This technically takes place in my Son of the Red Hood AU, but probably won't be for a few chapters. However this was running around my brain and chewing on the walls until I got it out. Jazz and Danny are to me Autistic and ADHD solidarity and I wanted to portray Jazz having an extreme meltdown because of the stress she's been under. Can you guess who her opponent is?

#jazz fenton #danny fenton #dp x dc #son of the red hood #diana prince #wondy was baby sitting the baby king #and suddenly she's sparing with a clearly exhausted and mildly superpowered girl #she took it as a fun training exercise #while Jazz thought she was fighting for her brother's life and had lost

[augustinewrites]

my first patient of the day today was an 8 month old infant and it gave me major baby fever 😭

#the baby was so happy too #happy and squishy and smiley #and showing the parents how to do gentle stretches and exercises was so fun #i always love when the odd case like this comes across my desk it was so cool #a good way to end the work week! #[—augustinechats]

[sofiafitqueen]

U like the bounce

Twitter @vocalmindsophia

OF @queenuncovered

#beautiful #bodybuilding #crossfit #exercise #fitblr #fitspo #gym #hot as fuck #nutrition #running #tight butt #big tiddy goth gf #big tiddy gf #big tiddy committee #huge tiddies #big tiddy baby #perfect butt #large bust #great butt #tattoed babe #tattoed hottie #sexy tattoed women #sexy content #smoking #girls who smoke weed #curvy hips #curvy girls #nice tiddies #onlyf@nz #thick and juicy

[navybrat817]

Just exercised for the first time in years. Out of shape, but proud of myself!

#navybrat rambles #personal #workout #working out #exercise #trying to better myself #my sweet son wanted to join me #baby steps #one step at a time #are you reading my tags? #go drink some water #i just did #stay hydrated my friends

[breelandwalker]

Witchcraft Exercises

Just a quick compilation of the posts I've made about exercises to help improve your craft. These can be used as journaling prompts, inspiration for activities, or as methods for pulling yourself out of a slump and recharging your witchy inspiration.

Witchcraft Exercise - Quantifying Your Craft

Witchcraft Exercise - Dig Through The Ditches

Witchcraft Exercise - The Book of Lessons

Witchcraft Exercise - Home Brews

Witchcraft Exercise - Witchy Inspo Journal

Witchcraft Exercise - Spring Cleaning

Witchcraft Exercise - Creating Correspondences

Witchcraft Exercise - Creating Your Own Runes

Witchcraft Exercise - Shakespearean Witchcraft

Witchcraft Exercise - Music To Witch By

Related Prompt - Music to Witch By

Witchcraft Exercise - Annual Review

Most of these are also available in the May 2021 bonus episode of Hex Positive (check your favorite podcatcher).

Happy Witching!

(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar, tune in to my monthly show Hex Positive on your favorite podcast app, or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

#witchcraft #witchblr #witchcraft exercises #journal prompts #BoS #book of shadows #grimoire #witch tips #baby witch #Advice for Beginner Witches #secular witchcraft

[abirddogmoment]

Rory's first session with steadiness training and she's crushing it!

#dogblr #rory borealis #my face #bird dog training #so bird dogs need a really strong WOAH (stop moving and stay) for safety #and also to help encourage pointing in younger dogs (you woah them when they have the scent of the bird before the bird flushes) #ive never taught woah before so i read a bunch of books and watched a bunch of videos #one of the first steps is steadiness (basically impulse control) #so were using my elevated step and some kibbles and a flat collar with a tab leash #basically once your dog understands the board you can start #hold the tab loosely (no tension in the leash but enough that you can stop them from going after the snack) #throw the snack and dont let the dog go for it (hold leash and feed snacks on the board) #make sure theres no tension in the leash before you release #the dog should be standing there of their own will not the leash stopping them #its really hard so make sure the dog is exercised and calm before you start esp the first time #and only do short short sessions #and reward HEAVILY #there are faster more old fashioned ways to teach it #but shes a baby and i dont mind going slow so this is what im doing #also - look at my face i was so unsure if she would stay 😂

[tgmsunmontue]

Come on baby light my fire… 2/2 (or 7/7?)

Hangster. 3k. Explicit. Apartment fire alarm at 1am featuring Jake in his underwear and Bradley with kittens.

All six potential endings are included in one post below. If you'd rather read them as separate chapters you can check out AO3 where I posted it first for once.

PART ONE (on Tumblr)

OPTION A

                Jake looks down at the sleeping man, so tempted to curl up back in bed with him. But he’s got to go and figure out how to get back into his own apartment. Most importantly though is he wants Bradley’s number, and he knows his own. He grabs Bradley’s phone, carefully grabs his hand and presses his finger to the fingerprint reader and sure enough it unlocks. There’s a photo of a couple as the background but he’s more interested in adding himself as a contact. He does so quickly, his name followed by a little flame, night cityscape, cat emoji, then an eggplant and some droplets because he’s hilarious and he’s pretty sure Bradley will think he’s funny.

                He sends himself a couple of messages, basically with all the details of where he’s gone and that he has no plans for the rest of the day and will come back to the apartment if he can’t locate Javy at the gym, or message him as soon as he’s in his apartment and has access to his phone again. He rifles through Bradley’s bag, a little perturbed by the number of Hawaiian shirts he finds, but pulls out a very worn US Navy t-shirt that has a very retro feel. None of it is what he’d usually wear, but all of it is better than being naked. It’s bad enough that he’s going to have to be barefoot and he wonders whether he could really chance taking what look like Bradley’s only pair of shoes. Screw it. He’ll be back soon enough.

                He laces up, the shoes a bit too big, then jogs the two blocks to where Javy prefers to go to the gym, glad it’s not further. It’s still at least another fifteen minutes before he usually starts, but Jake can’t risk him being early and missing him. But he is a man borne of military routine and walks up about a minute before Jake expected him.

                “Javy! Hey!”

                “Man! What are you wearing?!”

                “It’s a long story, well, actually, it’s not that long. My apartment building had a fire alarm, I left without my keys but I was only wearing my underwear. Hooked up with this guy who is fucking scorching hot –”

                “But has terrible taste in clothes.”

                “He’d make this work, trust me. Anyway, I need you to get my spare key.”

                “I’m not skipping my workout for you…”

                “Yes you are, in gratitude for me not waking you at two in the morning in my underwear to give me my spare…”

                “And I’m sure you were really suffering with the scorching hot guy. Your story is truly heart wrenching.”

                “Come on!”

                “Fine, here, take my keys, go and grab yours, then you can return your spare and my keys back to me. Deal?”

                “Yeah, good plan. I probably shouldn’t have both sets on me.”

                “You think?” Javy says dryly and Jake gives him the finger.

                After agreeing to take Jake’s car to make it all much faster he gets through the logistics of getting to Javy’s, grabbing his spare keys and then back to his apartment. Lets himself in with a sigh of relief and immediately goes to his phone, ignores all the other messages and clicks on the new messages and clicks Add Contact. He enters in Bradley, following it with a cat emoji and then three little flames. He’s not going to forget who Bradley is in a hurry. He doesn’t bother changing, needs to return Javy’s car and keys and then come back again. As he’s walking back he sends a message, nerves fluttering in his stomach.

>>I have keys, my phone and am heading back to my apartment. 5A. Want to come over?

>>On my way.

OPTION B

                Jake rolls his eyes, of course Bradley’s phone is dead. Ah well, he can go old school. There’s a pen and paper on the bench and he quickly writes down his name and number, along with his apartment number and a hope to see you soon. Leaves the piece of the paper smack center in the middle of the kitchen counter where it can’t be missed. He pulls on his underwear, then rifles through Bradley’s clothes and pulls out some sweat pants and a t-shirt. Okay, this is going to be a mortifying experience however slightly less mortifying than if he went out in just his underwear. Also less likely to result in any indecency charges.

…            …            …

                Bradley looks at the little pieces of paper and his heart sinks. He’s pretty sure that it’s a note, now ripped to shreds and missing pieces, the kittens having wrecked havoc on the little piece of paper, now scattered around like soggy confetti. He picks up one of the pieces and it’s definitely got a number on it. What number, he has no idea, it could be an apartment number for all he knows. He freezes, realizing that he’s not going to be thwarted by two baby cats. He knows Jake’s name and that he lives in this apartment building. Eight floors, six apartments on each floor. That’s forty-eight handwritten notes, minus six because he doesn’t need to do one for Hilary’s apartment or any of her neighbors, because surely Jake would have mentioned if he’d been on the same floor. That’s something you’d mention right?

                He finds some paper, making sure it’s a decent size because the last thing he wants is for Jake to somehow miss his note in return, that just makes him look like an inept love interest in a romcom. He’s in charge of this. His hand starts cramping around the thirtieth message but he keeps on, then pulls on some clothes, not caring what he’s wearing. He takes the stairs down to the lobby, eyes up all the little mail slots and then just starts posting a handwritten note in each one. Stands back and looks. Right. Now all he has to do is wait for Jake to contact him.

                The entire day goes by and he refuses to panic. Not everyone checks their mail everyday, he might even have to wait a couple of days, although Hilary is returning tomorrow and he’s meant to be going and staying with Nat for a couple of nights before his next deployment. But Jake will still get his number. He just has to want to use it.

…            …            …

                He should have gotten Bradley’s number.

                It’s been hours and Bradley hasn’t sent him a single message.

                Would it be weird to go and knock on his door?

                Yes. That just seems a shade too desperate. He can act cool.

…            …            …

                Jake frowns at the piece of paper, the only thing in his mail slot and he’s only check it because he’s walking past. A note. A handwritten note.

                Hi, I’m looking for Jake. This is Bradley. Please contact me.

                And then a phone number and he grins at it, because he’s going to get some answer now, multiple answers he suspects, because his number of questions has just doubled. He enters the number into his phone as he walks, presses call and holds the phone to his ear.

                “Hello, Bradley here.”

                “Hi. It’s Jake.”

                “You called! Hi…”

                “Hi… any particular reason you’re leaving me a handwritten note and not just using the technology available to us?”

                “Because I didn’t have your number. The cats, they ripped it to shreds and I just… had to figure out a way of contacting you.”

                “Smart and good looking. If you knew which apartment was mine why didn’t you just come knock on my door. I would have let you in.”

                “Ah… I put a note in every apartments mail slot.”

                “Of course you did…”

                “Well, sitting around outside waiting for you to enter or exit the building seemed a little stalkerish.”

                “Yes. So… not playing hard to get.”

                “Definitely not.”

                “Good. So I can assume you’ll say yes if I ask you out to dinner?”

                “Why don’t you go ahead and ask.”

OPTION C

                He knocks on the door, a little disappointed that Bradley hasn’t sent him a message, is surprised because he’d kind of thought they’d connected on a level that was maybe, hopefully, more than just sexual. The door opens and it’s not Bradley answering, but a woman his age, looking very comfortable in too-big sweats and hoodie. His stomach starts souring, twisting into unpleasant tightness.

                “Hi. Uh…”

                “Are you looking for Bradley?”

                “Ah, yeah. Sorry to have bothered you. He just helped me out the other night,” he flushes, hopes whoever this woman is doesn’t read too much into the helped me out aspect of the sentence, because he hadn’t meant it as an innuendo.

                “Oh, yeah, he was just kitten sitting for me while I was out of town. Do you want his number?”

                He sucks in a sharp breath, the relief sharp and instant.

                “Do you have it?”

                “Of course I do, he’s a college friend. And I’m assuming you’re the hot neighbor who he was annoyed at me about not warning him about?”

                “Jake. My name’s Jake.”

                “Nice to meet you Jake. I expect an invite to the wedding…”

                “Well, he didn’t message me, so maybe don’t plan on that…”

                “Oh, yeah, I found little shreds of paper, so if you tried leaving a note that was a no-go…”

                “What?”

                “Orea and Cracker. They shred paper. I think I found a couple of pieces. Floated my theory past a very forlorn Brad Brad and he said it was maybe a possibility. Here, take his number and go put your man out of his misery…”

OPTION D (Version I – fits within TGM events)

                Pete frowns, because he hasn’t seen that shirt in years. Maybe literal decades, and now that’s a scary thought for other reasons. But he’d swear that that man is wearing Goose’s old Navy shirt, old sauce stain down the front and everything. Bradley had taken it when he’d left, had always used it as a pyjama top and it had always made Pete smile to see, the memories still bittersweet of the dinner shared with friends. He needs to know.

                “Ah, excuse me. This is going to be an odd question, but I just need to ask. Where did you get that shirt?”

                “This one? Ah, funny story actually… I ended up locked out of my apartment in the middle of the night due to a fire alarm and this guy helped me out. Said I could borrow anything, cause did I mention I was only in my underwear? Anyway, I left before he woke, and I’ve never been able to return it to him…”

                “You couldn’t go and knock on his door?” Pete asks, because something isn’t adding up.

                “Well, I almost did, but then I saw this woman leaving and decided it was maybe best not to rock any boats.”

                “Oh. Hmm. Well, I’m pretty sure he’d like that top back. It belonged to his father. He usually sleeps in it…”

                “You know him?”

                “Bradley? Yes. You want his number?”

                “I… sure.”

                “Okay. You just can’t ever tell him who gave it to you, okay?”

OPTION D (Version II – only ending where Mav and Bradley have a relationship)

                There’s a guy staring at him and it’s starting to annoy him a little. It’s even starting to border on a little creepy and he gives him the side eye. Instead of it putting the guy off it has the opposite effect and he’s now walking over, about to make fucking conversation of all things while Jake is just trying to work out.

                “Where did you get that t-shirt?”

                Okay, that wasn’t quite what Jake was expecting. Maybe a sly comment on his form, or body… not the almost threadbare shirt he borrowed from Bradley and has never been able to return. Also this guy is old enough to be his father, he’s not familiar enough with the brass on base to not give this man the potential respect he deserves.

                “Sir?”

                “Where did you get that t-shirt?” he repeats.

                “Uh…” Jake looks down at the shirt, and it’s the one he’d taken a couple of weeks ago from his night with Bradley. “From a guy.”

                “A guy.”

                “Yes sir.”

                “Sorry, I’m Captain Mitchell. I… Wait… your middle-of-the-night fire-alarm underwear-guy!”

                “Excuse me sir?”

                “I believe we have someone in common, and he’s going to want that t-shirt back. It belonged to his father.”

                “You know Bradley? I went looking for him, but there was this woman at the apartment.”

                “His friend Hilary, yes. He stays at her apartment whenever she’s out of town to look after her cats.”

                “Oreo and Cracker.”

                “Yes. Who I believe are to blame for shredding the note you left.”

                “What?”

                “They found tiny pieces, some of it chewed up. Not enough to make anything out of it. Trust me, I’ve heard this lamented to me far too many times in the last couple of weeks to not be very familiar with it all. Your first name is Jake isn’t it?”

                “Yes sir. Lieutenant Jake Seresin.”

                “Of course you are. I’m picking he has no idea you’re navy, because this would have gone a lot faster if he’d mentioned that.”

                “No sir, we didn’t exactly swap life stories.”

                That gets him a raised eyebrow and smirk and Jake flushes, not really sure who Captain Mitchell is to Bradley, but if what he says is true, then Bradley does want to see him again. That’s a swoop of positive feelings after a couple of weeks of feeling rejected.

                “Right. Stand just there. I’m going to take a picture and send it to Bradley, tell him I found his shirt… he was just as sad about the shirt as he was about you.”

                Jake blinks, the guy is taking his picture before he can even say anything, Jake doesn’t even know if he was smiling, probably looked like a stunned rabbit. He glances over the shoulder and the man, this Captain Mitchell, is cropping his face out of the picture completely, thumbing out I found something that I believe belongs to you, and pressing send before Jake has time to even think of asking for Bradley’s number.

                “Can I get his number?”

                “How about you come home with me and you ask him for yourself, hmm?”

OPTION E

                Jake wakes slower than usual, warmer, and he stetches and then freezes when something grabs his foot. His brain registers then, kitten and he smiles into the darkness, memories coming back and yeah… this is definitely a preferable way of waking up.

                “Mornin’…” Jake says, sliding his body over Bradley’s, naked skin sliding against his and he’s glad they’re both naked.

                “Mmm… Hi. Why are you waking me up so early?”

                “Well, I realized one of the few ways of getting my spare keys is to hunt down my friend who has them. And he goes to the gym early.”

                “Ugh. This early? Is there any way we can get your friend’s number which does not involve us getting up right now and doing a manhunt across the city?”

                “It’s not exactly the city, just two blocks.”

                “Is he listed anywhere as your emergency contact that we can ring and ask for it?”

                Jake opens his mouth and immediately shuts it. There is someplace he can ring which would maybe give him Javy’s number, or at the minimum pass a message on.

                “Actually, yeah. Well, they might not give me the number but they’d pass a message on for me.”

                “And can we ring them later?”

                “Yeah, we can definitely do that later…”

                Worst case, he can always try catching Javy at the gym tomorrow instead.

…            …            …

                Later, after another heavy make out session in bed, messy and leaving Jake wanting more, he takes Bradley’s offered phone and thumbs open the keypad. He’s going to ring the HR line for military service people, because there are surely people in worse positions than him that call up asking for weirder and wackier things than an emergency contact number. Even if Javy isn’t exactly his emergency contact, they can ring him and give him Bradley’s number. As he enters in the number he sees various contacts pop up and then;

                “Why is the number for the Military HR service line programmed into your phone?”

                “Because I'm a commissioned officer.”

                “Oh shit! Me too. Lieutenant Jake Seresin.”

                “Ha. Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.”

                “Wait… Bradley Bradshaw. You know Javy. Coyote. He flew with you.”

                “Coyote is your emergency contact?”

                “Well, he’s the guy that has my spare keys…”

                “Well, I already have his number. I was planning on meeting up with him later actually.”

                “Of course you were. Bradshaw. He was right.”

                “What?”

                “You are exactly my type.”

#Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfic #come on baby light my fire #This was an interesting exercise and I will probably never do it again