#recycled script

[ultraericthered]

Something of a companion piece to this post. Credit to @themattress​

Yeah, I’m sorry, but a whole month later and I’m still not over this. In all my life, time, and involvement in Pokemon fandom, I don’t think I’ve ever been so unironically happy and welcoming of Atsuhiro Tomioka being a self-plaguarizing hack like I am regarding this here.

I now fully understand what those two episodes and the story told within them were originally intended to stand as by the PokeAni staff, but they ended up never broadcasting those episodes so that we never got that exact story with all that exact set-up in it, so what we were left with now actually stands in the BW series narrative as the Boomerang Cornerstone of the Unova Saga. And I use “Boomerang” because the event canonically occurs within the saga’s narrative, and then every little goddamn thing that happened there comes back to happen again later on in the two important narrative points for Team Rocket and Team Plasma respectively - the pre-League Undella / Meloetta arc and the post-League White Ruins / N arc (Episode N).

And I’ve such a good grasp on how Tomioka’s writing tends to work for his Big, Action-Packed Epic Event Episodes, even the imagined Reshiram VS Zekrom two-parter in the extended post-League final arc of the Unova Saga we should’ve been given would have this going on, with many striking parallels to Team Rocket’s earlier finale.

Team Rocket VS Team Plasma / Operation Tempest 2-Parter

> Giovanni’s VTOL arrives at his set destination in the Unova region > Giovanni steps out of the VTOL, some grunts there at his side > Team Rocket stands in soldier formation to greet their Boss > Giovanni declares that the main phase of Team Rocket’s mission to take over the Unova region shall now commence. > There are Rocket Grunts present > Jessie and James have tech with uses very specific for this mission > Ash comforts his Pokemon friend as they’re held captive inside the hangar of Dr. Zager’s helicopter > Righteous male character speaks seriously with female authority figure as the two of them join forces to pursue Team Rocket > Team Rocket enters ruins and sets up some ritual to break the seal on the ancient prize they seek > A spiral staircase rises from the ruins > At the top of the stairs, on a pillar, is the coveted ancient artifact > Giovanni raises up his hands as he makes an excited declaration > Meowth suddenly starts talking again in Part 2, having been uncharacteristically silent all throughout Part 1 > Righteous male character, female authority figure, Iris, and Cilan race to the site of crisis in a vehicle > History of anicent civilization that had an artifact which caused the civilization’s demise is explained along the way > A nearby city is directly endangered by the effects of the big battle and there’s mass panic in the streets about it > Pikachu makes a big jump and launches a humongous Electro Ball attack right at the source of the crisis > TRio physically supports Giovanni when there’s danger to him > TRio remarks on how they knew Ash’s Pikachu was a special one > Inside his VTOL, Giovanni orders a retreat back to HQ in Kanto

Team Rocket VS Team Plasma / White Ruins/N/Team Plasma Arc

> Pokemon are driven into a frenzy and attack humans in the streets > Looker appears and flashes his International Police badge > The enigmatic Team Plasma is introduced to us > Team Rocket (TRio) meddles in Team Plasma’s operations > Team Plasma has their own aircrafts and use an old, abandoned runway in the Desert Resort as one of their bases of operation > Lord Ghetsis keeps in touch with his grunts from within his lair > Team Plasma has a Pokemon fire a Hyper Beam into a skyscraper > Team Plasma’s Liepard fights with Team Rocket’s Woobat > There are five main Team Plasma members working for Ghetsis > Ancient Unovan ruins that appear to have some connection to the Hero’s Legend > A powerful, shiny rock is buried within these ruins > A Professor named Juniper is a key player in events > The Hero’s Legend, Black and White Chapters, factor in heavily > Looker physically manhandles an eliteTeam Plasma grunt > Krokorok (or Krookodile) digs a tunnel to help Ash and Pikachu > Pikachu makes a big jump and launches an Electro Ball attack right at the source of the crisis > TRio wears undercover guises and uses jet packs > TRio remarks on how they knew Ash’s Pikachu was a special one > Giovanni, dressed in full Stalin garb, wants to conquer Unova and hopes to see Team Plasma eliminated as competition to that goal > Some big Team Rocket and Team Plasma related action goes down in Castelia City, with the city being threatened with destruction

Operation Tempest 2-Parter / Reshiram VS Zekrom

> Dark clouds gather and a hole in the sky opens up that Legendary Pokemon of Unova comes through > The Boss starts acting more unhinged than he normally is > Legendary Pokemon is taken control of by Boss, who orders them to turn their power against all of Unova so that he may conquer it > Green haired, black-and-white-color-schemed empath companion is reeling from an overload of anguish and pain > Iris’ Dragonite features heavily in the big epic battle > Pokemon under evil team’s control unleash barrage of attacks > Disturbances and destruction from this battle can be felt nearby, as the entire Unova region’s fate is soon to hang in the balance > Boss cranks up the power on what’s currently being weaponized > Pikachu unleashes a huge amount of power, with extra energy having been granted it by an electric type Legendary Pokemon > Thanks to this, a humongous ball of electrical power is formed > Electric attack is launched right at the enemy and their weapon > BOOOM! It’s a direct hit! > Explosion passes, smoke clears, the enemy has gone down > Green-haired, black-and-white-color-schemed empath companion soothes the savage beast(s), averting a crisis upon Unova > Boss is displeased at their mission outcome, but can accept failure and look forward to what future work might hold > Our heroes say goodbye to green-haired, black-and-white-color-schemed empath companion and friend(s) in a final scene at sunset

#Pokemon #anime #Best Wishes #Black and White #Unova #funny #Team Rocket VS Team Plasma #lost episodes #recycled script #operation tempest #Episode N #Team Rocket #Team Plasma #trivia #hilarious in hindsight #oh the irony #what could have been

[aardwolfpack]

Recycled Script

I have��classes I need to get to, and I’m probably already late for one.  I have printouts on all my classes, but no simple schedule.  My trapper is open on the table, and I’m flipping through pages trying to find where and when each class meets, but that information is surrounded by an enormous amount of irrelevant text.  I’m very nervous, because I’m behind schedule and the people in the room are impatient with me, and so I’m having trouble parsing and retaining what I’m reading.

That sounds extremely specific, but it’s the plot of a sizable portion of the dreams I’ve had during the last two decades.

#stress dream #dream #dream journal #repetition #recycled script

[blackkatdraws2]

There are more things in the Parable than Stanley knows about. [Blank Scripts AU]

#hoh boy i was going to make a comic to introduce these monsters but #i couldnt help myself and made an animation instead #because i just think they're so neat and cool okay #listen i cant for the life of me just infofump about my AU and OCs #because i just think that making actual content about my lore and stuff will not only raise the chances of people being interested #but also it will also raise my motivation to actually produce more content other than the same old recycled front-facing-profile drawings #i need to get creative with my stuff or I'll also loose interest and I DONT want that #in order to be happy with what i have i cant just think about it and expect to be given something new NOOOO i need to MAKE it ughh #i cant believe in order to get more content out of my own au i would need to draw it and feed myself ugh ugh ugh unbelievable (kidding) #but also #i wanna make a little music video or animation again for youtube #its been a hot while since ive uploaded anything in there at all #maybe an animation reel will do for now? #i hope so :( #because ive been working on expanding the Black Scripts AU #and honestly i dont regret it #i had a lot of fun making up scenarios and comics for Stanley and the Narrator (Black) #but yeah! #apart from this little video #you wont be getting an explanation on what these things are supposed to be #and why theyre there #actually i was originally gonna make this into a full fledge animation with sound effect/music/frame-by-frame movement/etc. #but i got lazy HAHA #tsp blank scripts au #tsp au #the stanley parable #the stanley parable ultra deluxe #tsp

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

Sometimes details get lost in a story, only to turn up in another one.

Like Jeff Langer, a financier mentioned in ‘The Hanukkah Exodus’ who actually appeared in ‘The Bronze Epoch’.

#Inspector Spacetime #Recycled Script (trope) #Recycled Script #recycled name #Name Drop (trope) #Name Drop #The Hanukkah Exodus (episode) #The Bronze Epoch (episode) #details are important #Jeff Langer (character) #mentioned in one episode #appeared in another episode #later in the series

[koifsssh]

LISTEN. LISTEN TO ME. I WATCHED THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS AND I HAD A VISION.

npc rainy...

he is supposed to be friend shaped, acts as a sort of friendly face to make the place less empty and lonely! someone you can talk to whenever you want!

of course such ai has to come from somewhere! let's just say he's "recycled"!

err... don't let him learn that though!

#i feel insane #did you know you can break him if he learns about the truth of his existence #he thinks he works at the circus #which is true but not in the way he thinks #imagine not being real... #or realizing you used to be real but the funny teeth man recycled you after you abstracted #god bless. #and now you are suspectable to breaking and going off script #and you dont want to be reset or “fixed” because living in the lie and living in ignorance might drive you more insane than the truth will #and on top of that you changed twice #because you were brought to the circus as a person stuck there and now you're reduced to a piece of code #but that code was from you so you're technically still yourself in a sense #so every time you break you start to gain memories #or very small snippets because the funny teeth man did recycle you #so therefore the funny machine npc thing you are now is made up of whatever was left of your brain to make the code #or... digital brain... #motherboard??? #YOU GET THE POINT #npcs doing npc things #haha identity crisis #i am so very tired... #rainy dewdrop #tadc oc

[write-and-wander]

No one spoil this for me because I've only played through once and maybe this was obvious to literally everyone else or maybe he just flat out says it and I picked the dialogue option where he doesn't BUT

At the tiefling festival if you do sleep with Astarion, the next morning he's just like standing there in a kind of power-pose that honestly made me giggle at first but I didn't really question it at the time, I just chalked it up to his trauma/touch aversion/manipulation/etc.

And then it dawned on me (lol) that while yes that could be true, what he was really doing was enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin. All his skin.

How sweet is that?

#like omg yeah of course he wouldnt want to cuddle or anything #not just because sex doesnt mean the same thing anymore #and we all know he was lying out of his ass when he said he wanted tav from the first moment he saw them #it was totally recycled script #but he woke up and could feel the warmth of that golden sunlight and he just wanted to bask in it #and he deserved that #gah #astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #i'm so in love with this elf #catch me writing about this shit in a fic #w&w cleo

[vanderspeiglemd]

Chris Sheridan's pastime is interviews revealing he's incompetent and the writing of the show is handled like a summer writing course

#resident alien #How do you write your show? Idk vibes and recycling the same shit til we're bored. #Like you can SEE them pulling scenes and lines and scenarios from old scripts #You regress all characters every three episodes to start with the same shit like #Improv and letting personal fulfillment rule the roost is an Issue but fr wing it and make it make sense in post???? #Wild

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Reading over a talk script and realizing the structure is so clunky that there’s absolutely nothing to sink your teeth into

[sad amateur actor sounds]

#For some reason my dad made it a point to say that my mom and I were very quiet and shy to the school conductor #And for the past three years my mom hasn’t gotten any parts at all and I’ve only ever been a householder #Like??? I’m not fucking shy. And mom wants to participate. #exjw #RIP elementary school me; your parts were fire (my mom wrote my talks at that age and she’s good at scripts) #(and they allowed more artistic freedom in those days) #I remember my mom using Rolo candies for an illustration in the back school (remember going to the back school for parts?) #It seems like the JWs have sterilized what little humanity they used to have and now everything is just blah #No one puts any creativity or brainpower into the parts anymore and instead directly quotes the examples #which USED to be something they would counsel you for (for a lack of warmth and empathy) #but now it’s encouraged?!?! #huh #I feel old #What use is practicing public speaking and conversational skills if you never actually CONVERSE with anyone? #They’re recycling the same ten talks over and over again and frankly I’m sick of it #Actually? I want no part of this new school. It can fuck off #I think the reason I always end up stealing the show is because I went inactive and stopped giving parts at age eleven #Which was about when they started changing everything #When I came back at fifteen it was a completely new world and I still wasn’t being used; I wasn’t a householder again until seventeen #I only remember the information in the reference book because I never bothered to read the new brochure (whatever it’s called) #I’m running on old hardware and it’s better than what they tell us to do now

[protect-namine]

new idea (not a theory because... I don't wanna dig up lore evidence for this):

teyvat is a bubble on the water (yes, like that one line scaramouche says to traveler in inazuma). as in, the firmament is still there -- we all know the firmament theory by this point -- so yes the dome shape, and the borders of that dome are the bubble's surface. not, like, a "bubble universe" -- I mean a literal bubble. "suface tension in the water" bubble. so beyond (beneath) teyvat would be some kind of deep water. the abyss is like a sea, I guess? and by this I really do just mean the abyss, not the other underground places like enkanomiya, irminsul, khaenri'ah, etc.

paimon is afraid of drowning and we did fish her out of the sea east of mondstadt...

also. this isn't evidence but more like. an illustration. the summer event with klee this year, we basically went into a projected world, right? there was this whole mechanic with hydro eidolons, preprints, streaming projections. and in the mary ann quest in fontaine, we also have oceanids recreating stories and a whole world for it too. so it's not really that far-fetched to think that a world can be a projection, and such projections are associated with hydro. illusions (and dreams) in genshin are usually associated with hydro.

so now consider: teyvat is not just a bubble, but a projected world inside a bubble. a hologram out of some kind of blueprint.

and maybe this is why mona is using hydromancy to seek the truth of the world. when she looks at the stars, she's looking at the bubble's surface. we also got to scry with water in enkanomiya to deal with illusions iirc. it's a whole thing. (yes I know there's a high chance mona is actually a star/outsider of teyvat, that's not important here. she doesn't seem to remember that, or at least, she acts like it.)

tangent: alice said that the borders are getting fragile. since she watches over the border, I want her to be a hydro user. either that, or barbeloth is one, since she's mona's master.

#mine musings #liveblogging genshin #yes i am introducing hologram theory into genshin #i also have a separate idea (again not a theory bc i'm not gathering evidence to support it) that #visions are recycled destinies. fates assigned to someone through different cycles #which is why some visions can have multiple owners (e.g. ninnguang kazuha mona) #so pairing it with this idea: what if. those visions are the blueprint for the hologram that is teyvat #and there's this whole cycle of birth and destruction of civilizations right #it's just repeating things over and over #destinies are recycled. irminsul is the supercomputer that gets restarted every now and then and boots up the same blueprint. etc etc #of course little things change and can have big effects in the future #and any descenders who make waves in history will change that blueprint #because they're not fulfilling a particular destiny from the blueprint but making their own #it's like. visions as a way to control the story and give everyone a role to play #and then someone from the audience steps into the stage and starts doing improv #so they have to close the curtains and start the play all over again. new actors same script #they hire the audience member and give them a role so they don't make too much of a mess (equivalent to getting logged into irminsul) #so new play. but then another audience member stumbles into the stage and does improv #rinse and repeat #anyway yeah. again not like. a solid legit theory #i guess it's more like. a what if?

[letterful]

what couples do you like in stranger things?

eh, i'm not terribly fond of stranger things in the first place (it's been a long time since i’ve jumped off that bandwagon and resorted to half-heartedly keeping up with it through my mutuals), and so i can't say that i'm particularly invested in any of the couples — canonical or otherwise — but! i am partial to steve/nancy (and have been since the first season premiered all those years ago, thank you very much), if only because i tend to gravitate towards couples who are fundamentally incompatible yet somehow still irresistibly drawn to each other. that, and they have the potential to be such a delicious failmarriage.

#also: those kids never really stood a chance against the narrative did they. #(and let it be said that i like my narratives semi-sentient and genre-aware and masquerading as capital f Fate. also very much ravenous.) #i truly wish i could elaborate but man. at this point i'm simply fatigued by this show. #it could have been good! it would have been good if only it hadn't been so set on playing it strictly by the book. #(one that was written forty years ago mind you) #(& i realise that it's supposed to be an ~homage~ but god. i've long run out of patience when it comes to this trend of cultural recycling.) #anyway. steve's entire arc might be one of its few saving graces #(read: they went off-script for once) #whereas that of nancy's is a goddamn mess & it's evident they don't know what to do with her character. #which is a shame considering she was easily a stand-out back in s1. #still. the byler power point was so entertaining in its sheer unhingedness that i'm inclined to root for them for this reason alone. #also i like watching fandom spaces self-implode so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[rohirric-hunter]

The devs really need to go back and rebalance the legendary item rewards for old epic quests. Like, what am I supposed to do with 56 uncommon enhancement runes, which I've got in just the last hour and a half? All the same level. Just the main quest, no sidequests. The full region will reward far more than I will ever need for a given alt's two LIs at that level, and they can't be recycled into ancient script, so essentially they're useless rewards.

#lotro #honestly my vote would be that they make it so that enhancement runes can be recycled into ancient script #a big strength of the old li system thats missing from the new one was that basically everything except for a few special items #like starlight crystals #could be stored in your relic pool and cycled out using the relic master panel #so the whole li system took up very little storage space #the new li system is such a drain on my storage space #and it doesnt benefit the devs at all because i literally have bought all the storage space available for this character #i have more shared storage space than you can actually even get #and its STILL not enough #like. come on guys. at least make the system functional for people whove bought out the storage expansions #or better yet just. dont make that necessary. at all. make a new relic pool. make everything recycle as ancient script. #get some new appearances for lis so people have cosmetic options to spend their ancient script on #maybe reintroduce titles or something i dont even have a use for 99% of legendary rewards anymore

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

How do you get so many phenominal writing ideas???? Like so many people recycle the same trope over and over again in this fandom that every other fanfic/art is just...the same

I consume a piece of media and then I'm like "hm that was good but what if it was g/t"

Like that's not even an exaggeration. I watched the new Batman movie and came up with Nano/Negasonic. I watched a playthrough of Nothing Lives Below The Lighthouse and came up with Jasper/Deus. I watched Blood C and Neon Genesis and came up with Kumiko/Taiyo. That's kind of the joke as to why I call all my new story universes "[blank] rip off" because 90% of the time that's where I get my inspiration from

#ask #anon #but i've also been a writer for fiction and scripts for years so i have many brainthinks that i also recycle into g/t stories #as well as ideas from previous mainstream fandoms ive been in that i basically just change the character names from to make original #basically im not that unique i just reduce reuse recycle the same set up and then make it interesting with my own characters

[cutemeat]

i will say sometimes i think if ppl could move past the surface-level of things n admit that rcg can write, esp since they have a team of writers, it would actually make for a lot more nuanced n specific criticisms of Sunny rather than a constant loop of ‘they just suck at their job’ yknow?

#cuz Sunnys core issues hav been mostly long-standing its not Just s13/s14 #n just. Sunny IS generally well written! but that doesnt mean that inherently RCG/the writers cant construct a faulty or problematic #narrative still! like Recycles Their Trash i think is a good encapsulation of how for some reason RCG tend to use like.. racism n homophobia #interchangeably rather than ever letting them intersect?? n how for a long time they rlly just didnt hire black writers cuz ‘well its a show #abt igorant white ppl so how would that make sense?’ like 😭😭 #Glenn litrlly said in an interview when s12 came out that they were Fine writing Turns Black bc ‘well we have black interns’ LIKE WHAT?? LOL #n thats how u can tap into specifics where the narrative has bad consequences on an audience #esp thru passive influence since script analysis is not as accessible a ciriculum #yknow?? #like Rob seems to think its IMPOSSIBLE that Any racist Adults could be watching his AMERICAN tv show #which is truly just. nonsensical LMAO

[punchliiine]

so, i keep getting asks in my inbox about whether shifting is real or not. hello? i mean it when i say it is real. shifting is real. idc how many posts people create in order to make you feel like it's not real or that it's just a teenage phase. it is real.

i have shifted plenty of times. i can fucking promise you that it's real. it will not be blurry or fuzzy or distorted or anything that might come close to a dream. it will not be astral projection, it will not be a psychotic episode or anything people (anti-shifters) say it is.

shifting is real, like so fucking real. and i completely understand how hard it is to trust strangers on internet. and not even strangers, TRUSTING AN IDEA THAT GOES BEYOND YOUR COMPREHENSION AND THIS REALITY. YOURE PUTTING YOUR FAITH INTO SOMETHING UNKNOWN.

BUT I PROMISE YOU I PROMISE YOU I PROMISE YOU SHIFTING IS REAL!!!!1

i have debunked and tried all those ways in order to find out if it's a lucid dreaming or whatever, i have tried them all. and they all proved to me that shifting is real.

i have healed myself of shit i couldn't have fucking imagined to ever leave me, shit that stained my soul. i have cried, laughed, snorted, breathed, screamed, talked, jumped, slept, touched.. i have lived. LIVED. and it was real, safe, and everything i've ever hoped for. I HAVE FINALLY LIVED FOR MYSELF.

i have met the man that i feel everything for, i touched his hands, i took pictures with him, i heard his voice and it was not something that could be disturbed by poor wifi. i even fucking know what shampoo brand he uses. i got to know him and he got to know ME as well. it is real. it is true. it is not impossible.

i felt it ALL. i promise you i did. ik my promises mean nothing since the whole idea of shifting is just crazy even if people tell you it's not. even if people say it's a religious practice and that it has existed for many years, it's still crazy and i get it. I HAVE BEEN THERE. but that doesn't make it not real.

it is real. those people are real. those experiences are real. everything is real. your scripts are real. shifting is real.

this is not a big inside joke nor is it a coping mechanism for covid or anyone that is mentally unwell. i know it demotivates you seeing tons of shifters trying for years with no progress. i know it demotivates you seeing people shit on shifting because we believe in something that is quite literally beyond everything we, as humans, have ever known. i know it demotivates you seeing tons of shifters saying that they were lying about their experiences and that shifting isn't real. but again, that doesn't mean shifting is not real.

i know these words are recycled and you've heard them plenty of times before, but there is nothing that i could do to make any of you believe me when i say shifting is real. i have had some experiences that me and my friends could vouch for, to prove that shifting is real BUT they could easily be rewritten as lies or me having 'telekinesis' or being set up or whatever. so i really don't wanna bother.

people will always ask for proof and will always try to debunk it, that's the way your brain works and i am not saying you're wrong for doing so or even asking for it. it's normal. but then again, even if i couldn't prove it to you or my attempts to prove it are 'debunked', it doesn't make shifting not real.

you can tell me shifting isn't real day and night, for eternity, but what i have experienced is not a lie. nor is it something that could ever come close to a lie. it is real life.

your belief or faith in shifting is unwavering because you haven't shifted, DUH??? THAT IS NORMAL!!!! but once you shift, come back to this very post and tell me how was it. was it something like a dream? or did you feel everything? consider it a dare.

i am not trying to make an anti-shifter believe, i couldn't care less. but if a shifter thinks about giving up and leaving their wildest dreams behind, please do not (i am going to kill you) do NOT. it is worth it. it is worth all of it and i bet my soul on it.

no matter how perfect your lucid dreams are, no matter how intense your maladaptive daydreams are, no matter WHAT. shifting is nothing of that sort. it is real. it is real. it is real.

i want you to just get out of wherever you are, stand in the wind, smell the air, pinch yourself, splash water on your shirt and feel how cold it gets, eat something sour, look at everything around you and notice the tiniest of details, look real close at a piece of wool and notice the tiny strings. see how you can experience all those in your cr? you can experience all those with shifting too, and infinitely more. shifting is THAT real.

it's okay to doubt, it's okay to need reassurance. it is 100% fine. but what's not okay is you constantly doubting your own power when you've been possessing it the moment you came into consciousness. you'll do wonders once you finally drop your doubts and just give it to yourself.

this is a recycled talk, i completely understand. but please just stop asking for confirmation, you ARE the confirmation.

#shift #shifting #reality shift #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting realities #shifters #shifting community #quantum jumping #desired reality #desired life #desired self #scripting #shifter #reality shifter #shifting thoughts #shifting rant #shifting motivation #shifting blog #realityshifting #shiftinconsciousness #shifting diary #shifting antis dni #multiverse #current reality

[sparatus]

i do actually know how the first chapters of itlog will go btw i’ve got it planned out as far as heading to omega. the problem is uh. order of events after that. yall are getting a prologue this time, even

#the prologue is a recycled early concept for the bitw post script!

[sometimesanalice]

In a Place Just Right

Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5K

Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)

For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.

When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”

He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.

“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.

“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."

“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.

But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."

He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.

Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.

But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.

Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.

There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.

You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.

The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.

Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.

Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.

Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.

This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.

However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.

But that was then.

Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.

“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”

You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.

“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”

“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”

“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.

“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.

Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right. The scalloped white one with gold rim it'll be.

“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.

“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.

He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.

You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.

“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.

He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”

“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.

“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.

“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”

“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.

After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.

His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.

Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.

He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”

“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.

“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head. 

“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”

“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.

He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.

Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.

He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.

Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.

“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.

This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.

“The turkey?”

Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”

You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”

He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.

“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”

That gets a little laugh from you.

“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.

“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.

“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.

He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.

You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.

“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.

If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.

“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”

He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.

When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.

And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.

Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.

The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.

“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.

“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”

Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.

He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.

At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.

You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.

“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”

“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”

“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.

“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.

“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.

“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.

“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.

“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”

“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.

“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”

“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”

“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.

If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.

You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.

You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.

He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.

It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.

Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.

Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.

On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.

You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.

He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.

Only five more years to go.

You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.

Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.

“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”

He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.

“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”

You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”

“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please? This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby.”

Bradley feels the moment your body relaxes into him.

He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.

“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.

“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”

“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.

Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.

He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.

“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach, not wanted to disturb the magic in the domesticity.

“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.

He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.   

You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.

The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.

Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as he two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.

There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.

Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.

There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.

It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.

Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.

Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.

And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.

Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.

“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.

You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.

Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.

The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.

“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.

Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.

Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.

The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.

“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks, a soft grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.

The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who raised him hold his son for the first time.

“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”

From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.

Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.

Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.

Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.

And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.

There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.

He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.

Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.

You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.

Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.

Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.

As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.

He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.

Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.

The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Caroline Bradshaw and Olivia Saylor Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.

His girls.

It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.

He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.

With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.

The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.

He’s right where he wants to be.

He’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!

It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie

If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!

You can read my other stories here!

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