#san diego jazz

[bretzkysbs]

[mikeywayarchive]

Instagram story by mikeyway

[Jul 27, 2023]

[tenshunnoise]

free jazz scratch core

[fuckyeahmarxismleninism]

By Gloria Verdieu

The March 21 Santee School Board meeting was my first time seeing Christynne Lilly Wood in action. Wood — mother, grandmother, auntie, retired health care worker, and community activist — was on the list to speak to the Santee school board members along with many others, including parents, students, teachers, and community activists. The subject centered on adding a children’s book, “I Am Jazz” — Number 2 on the list of banned books -- in all Santee public schools and libraries.

Christynne is an African American trans woman who is one of the most recent targets of the racist, anti-trans panic that continues to sweep through the country.

[heavenslounge]

Future is color

[burlveneer-music]

Sure Fire Soul Ensemble - Live at Panama 66 - a 2019 set of instrumental funk & soul (All-Town Sound)

It seems that the “Live” record is mostly an art form of the past. In the diaspora of funk, soul, and jazz music, we have so many legendary live albums we can reference, from Cannonball Adderley, Jimmy Smith, Curtis Mayfield, Donny Hathaway… the list is endless really. We present SFSE’s first outing in this noble arena. “Live at Panama 66” showcases songs from SFSE’s first 4 LPs as well as some choice cover tunes. The record was performed and recorded live in a beautiful outdoor setting in San Diego, CA. It was indeed a picture perfect Mother’s Day in Balboa Park, with SFSE throwing down their uniquely funky, cinematic vibes. We hope you enjoy it. Tim Felten - Keyboards/Bandleader Jesse Audelo - Sax/Flute Kiko Cornejo Jr - Congas/Bongos Jake Najor - Drums Omar Lopez - Bass Wili Fleming - Trombone Aquiles Magana Jr - Guitar Travis Klein - Tenor Sax Sheryll Felten - Hand Percussion Artwork - Jon Condry

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Emil Ferris’s long-awaited “My Favorite Thing Is Monsters Book Two”

NEXT WEEKEND (June 7–9), I'm in AMHERST, NEW YORK to keynote the 25th Annual Media Ecology Association Convention and accept the Neil Postman Award for Career Achievement in Public Intellectual Activity.

Seven years ago, I was absolutely floored by My Favorite Thing Is Monsters, a wildly original, stunningly gorgeous, haunting and brilliant debut graphic novel from Emil Ferris. Every single thing about this book was amazing:

https://memex.craphound.com/2017/06/20/my-favorite-thing-is-monsters-a-haunting-diary-of-a-young-girl-as-a-dazzling-graphic-novel/

The more I found out about the book, the more amazed I became. I met Ferris at that summer's San Diego Comic Con, where I learned that she had drawn it over a while recovering from paralysis of her right – dominant – hand after a West Nile Virus infection. Each meticulously drawn and cross-hatched page had taken days of work with a pen duct-taped to her hand, a project of seven years.

The wild backstory of the book's creation was matched with a wild production story: first, Ferris's initial publisher bailed on her because the book was too long; then her new publisher's first shipment of the book was seized by the South Korean state bank, from the Panama Canal, when the shipper went bankrupt and its creditors held all its cargo to ransom.

My Favorite Thing Is Monsters told the story of Karen Reyes, a 10 year old, monster-obsessed queer girl in 1968 Chicago who lives with her working-class single mother and her older brother, Deeze, in an apartment house full of mysterious, haunted adults. There's the landlord – a gangster and his girlfriend – the one-eyed ventriloquist, and the beautiful Holocaust survivor and her jazz-drummer husband.

Karen narrates and draws the story, depicting herself as a werewolf in a detective's trenchcoat and fedora, as she tries to unravel the secrets kept by the grownups around her. Karen's life is filled with mysteries, from the identity of her father (her brother, a talented illustrator, has removed him from all the family photos and redrawn him as the Invisible Man) to the purpose of a mysterious locked door in the building's cellar.

But the most pressing mystery of all is the death of her upstairs neighbor, the beautiful Annika Silverberg, a troubled Holocaust survivor whose alleged suicide just doesn't add up, and Karen – who loved and worshiped Annika – is determined to get to the bottom of it.

Karen is tormented by the adults in her life keeping too much from her – and by their failure to shield her from life's hardest truths. The flip side of Karen's frustration with adult secrecy is her exposure to adult activity she's too young to understand. From Annika's cassette-taped oral history of her girlhood in an Weimar brothel and her escape from a Nazi concentration camp, to the sex workers she sees turning tricks in cars and alleys in her neighborhood, to the horrors of the Vietnam war, Karen's struggle to understand is characterized by too much information, and too little.

Ferris's storytelling style is dazzling, and it's matched and exceeded by her illustration style, which is grounded in the classic horror comics of the 1950s and 1960s. Characters in Karen's life – including Karen herself – are sometimes depicted in the EC horror style, and that same sinister darkness crowds around the edges of her depictions of real-world Chicago.

These monster-comic throwbacks are absolute catnip for me. I, too, was a monster-obsessed kid, and spent endless hours watching, drawing, and dreaming about this kind of monster.

But Ferris isn't just a monster-obsessive; she's also a formally trained fine artist, and she infuses her love of great painters into Deeze, Karen's womanizing petty criminal of an older brother. Deeze and Karen's visits to the Art Institute of Chicago are commemorated with loving recreations of famous paintings, which are skillfully connected to pulp monster art with a combination of Deeze's commentary and Ferris's meticulous pen-strokes.

Seven years ago, Book One of My Favorite Thing Is Monsters absolutely floored me, and I early anticipated Book Two, which was meant to conclude the story, picking up from Book One's cliff-hanger ending. Originally, that second volume was scheduled for just a few months after Book One's publication (the original manuscript for Book One ran to 700 pages, and the book had been chopped down for publication, with the intention of concluding the story in another volume).

But the book was mysteriously delayed, and then delayed again. Months stretched into years. Stranger rumors swirled about the second volume's status, compounded by the bizarre misfortunes that had befallen book one. Last winter, Bleeding Cool's Rich Johnston published an article detailing a messy lawsuit between Ferris and her publishers, Fantagraphics:

https://bleedingcool.com/comics/fantagraphics-sued-emil-ferris-over-my-favorite-thing-is-monsters/

The filings in that case go some ways toward resolve the mystery of Book Two's delay, though the contradictory claims from Ferris and her publisher are harder to sort through than the mysteries at the heart of Monsters. The one sure thing is that writer and publisher eventually settled, paving the way for the publication of the very long-awaited Book Two:

https://www.fantagraphics.com/products/my-favorite-thing-is-monsters-book-two

Book Two picks up from Book One's cliffhanger and then rockets forward. Everything brilliant about One is even better in Two – the illustrations more lush, the fine art analysis more pointed and brilliant, the storytelling more assured and propulsive, the shocks and violence more outrageous, the characters more lovable, complex and grotesque.

Everything about Two is more. The background radiation of the Vietnam War in One takes center stage with Deeze's machinations to beat the draft, and Deeze and Karen being ensnared in the Chicago Police Riots of '68. The allegories, analysis and reproductions of classical art get more pointed, grotesque and lavish. Annika's Nazi concentration camp horrors are more explicit and more explicitly connected to Karen's life. The queerness of the story takes center stage, both through Karen's first love and the introduction of a queer nightclub. The characters are more vivid, as is the racial injustice and the corruption of the adult world.

I've been staring at the spine of My Favorite Thing Is Monsters Book One on my bookshelf for seven years. Partly, that's because the book is such a gorgeous thing, truly one of the great publishing packages of the century. But mostly, it's because I couldn't let go of Ferris's story, her characters, and her stupendous art.

After seven years, it would have been hard for Book Two to live up to all that anticipation, but goddammit if Ferris didn't manage to meet and exceed everything I could have hoped for in a conclusion.

There's a lot of people on my Christmas list who'll be getting both volumes of Monsters this year – and that number will only go up if Fantagraphics does some kind of slipcased two-volume set.

In the meantime, we've got more Ferris to look forward to. Last April, she announced that she had sold a prequel to Monsters and a new standalone two-volume noir murder series to Pantheon Books:

https://twitter.com/likaluca/status/1648364225855733769

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/01/the-druid/#oh-my-papa

[such-expensive-mistakes]

Superpham AU (part 5)

Masterpost

-----

This is more of an interlude, but I figured I would get it posted for WIP Wednesday. Enjoy!

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Ellie lost her phone somewhere between San Diego and Vancouver. Normally, that's not a big deal; she loses or breaks a phone every few months, and each time she just gets another of those cheap pay-as-you-go phones to replace it. She has Danny's number memorized, and that's the important one.

Except that Danny hasn't answered his phone for the past week.

For the first few days, she assumed he'd broken it in a ghost fight and Tucker hadn't got around to fixing it yet. But it's day six and Danny still hasn't answered. At first, Ellie planned to go to Amity Park, but before she's halfway there she thinks better of it. Danny's stronger than her, and if something bad happened to him, she wants to be prepared.

So instead, she's invisibly flying around the campus of UPenn, looking for Jazz and kicking herself for not memorizing which dorm the older girl is living in. There are a lot of people, and a surprising amount of them are tall redheads.

Eventually, she spots Jazz leaving one of the lecture halls. There are dark circles under the other girl's eyes, and she seems to be ignoring all the people around her.

Ellie slips around a corner to a spot no one is watching and lands, turning visible. Then she runs to catch up.

"Jazz!" she calls.

Jazz whirls around, eyes wide. "Ellie? What are you doing here?"

Ellie is taken aback at her sharp tone. "Just leaving, I guess."

"No, wait!" Jazz grabs her wrist before Ellie can slip away. And sure, she can always go intangible to escape, but she doesn't need to just yet.

"It's not safe for you here," Jazz says. "Let's go back to my room."

She's quiet as she leads Ellie back to her dorm. They get stopped in the hallway by a few other students, but Jazz extricates herself from the conversation by introducing Ellie as her "little cousin" and saying she's going to show Ellie around.

Finally, they arrive in Jazz's dorm room. It's roughly the size of a closet, and with two beds, two dressers and two desks, there's hardly any room left to stand in. It's easy to tell which side belongs to Jazz; it's the one that's actually organized.

Oh, and the picture of Jazz and Danny taped to the wall are also a dead giveaway.

"My roommate has class til four," Jazz says. "So that gives us some time." She sits on her bed, and Ellie perches on the nearby desk.

"Danny isn't answering his phone," Ellie says.

"Danny is missing."

The fear that Ellie has been trying to ignore sets in.

"Missing, like…" she trails off. Maybe "missing" just means he's dealing with Vlad, or with something in the Ghost Zone.

"Mom and Dad are dead. Their portal was destroyed. Sam and Tucker said it was the GIW. And no one has seen Danny since." Jazz sounds close to tears. "The GIW is still looking for Phantom, so we don't think they have him, but I don't know where he is. Tucker thinks he might have made it through the portal, but we don't have a way to check."

"I can check," Ellie says. "I can use Vlad's portal."

"Are you sure?" Jazz's voice is gentle, like she thinks Ellie might break. And yeah, Ellie hates Vlad and his stupid lab and his stupid house, but anything is better than sitting around and waiting for answers.

"I'm sure."

[gretagerwigsmuse]

(christmas) baby please come home

summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw and his girlfriend throw a christmas party, complete with a christmas tree, copious amounts of champagne, blended friend groups, and the true meaning of the word home

OR what do you do when your boyfriend gets deployed over christmas and he gets you two christmas presents?

pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 11.8k

warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content

part of @notroosterbradshaw ‘s hello december challenge

masterlist and playlist

It was obvious that you knew how to throw a party. 

Furthermore, it was obvious that none of your and Bradley’s friends - baring Max, but only because he had professional help - would ever be able to pull off a party of the same caliber as your Christmas party. 

Subconsciously, you wanted your friends to be jealous of you and impressed with how well you and Bradley had pulled things off. It was, admittedly, such a vain and shallow thought - no, desire to want to be the best at this. At throwing parties.

The Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack was currently echoing throughout the downstairs on the Sonos, the twinkling jazz giving off a whimsical, yet sophisticated vibe, the Christmas tree looked stunning in the living room where it was covered in nearly three thousand white lights and countless ornaments, and the food that you and Bradley - but mainly Bradley - had spent all morning and last night preparing was laid out on festive serving dishes, complete with seasonally appropriate plates and napkins, perfectly folded in their napkin rings. 

You had scoured San Diego county for the most gorgeous garland possible to serve as the centerpiece on the dining room table, the berries and pine cones in it perfectly matching the plates and napkins and serving dishes. You had vacuumed the hardwood floor twice and washed it once before everyone came over and knew you would do so again once everyone left, if only so you could casually say it’s fine, you can keep your shoes on, we’re washing the floor tomorrow anyway. The candles weren’t overpowering, there was soft lighting all throughout the house, and you’d somehow wrangled a recipe for the cookies Bradley’s mom used to make from Sarah Kazansky and hadn't even burnt them.  

Because you wanted people to talk about it - the party. And to say did you see their bathroom? It was so clean, there weren’t any water spots on the faucet. The beef tenderloin appetizers were delicious, they had to have gotten the meat someplace special? No, definitely not Vons, maybe some local butcher in La Jolla? Aren’t they such a sweet couple? Such a good pair.

Because it had to be perfect. 

All of it.

Because this was Bradley’s Christmas. His only Christmas that year. Nothing could go amiss. And you wanted everyone to be jealous of it, so much so that tonight would be equal to if not better than how they celebrated the actual holiday with their own families - in their own homes - on Christmas Day. 

Because they weren’t going to be spending the holiday on a drafty aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific far from home like Bradley was. 

And Bradley deserved the entire world and all the happiness he could possibly have. The way his face had lit up when you’d first suggested the party after he’d gotten his orders at the beginning of November would stick with you for months. You’d told him that everything would be perfect, that you would pack enough Christmas spirit and love and gifts and food into one evening that it would take the sting out of being away from home - being away from you - at Christmas. Even if for just one night.

The guests had all arrived, some promptly and some not-so-promptly, with you and Bradley greeting them all, telling them to help themselves to all the food and drinks they wanted. Apparently, Max had a surprise for later that you prayed was not him putting on a Santa suit. But the conversation and drinks were flowing with ease, despite the blending of your two friend groups for the first time. 

It was a good party. 

Except right now, it was your turn to be the jealous one.

You watched, enviously, as one of your work friends leaned against the kitchen island with a glass of prosecco in her hand, while the other gripped Jake Seresin’s bicep. The jealousy wasn’t because of Jake or any attention he may have been giving her, mind you. 

(Because no, no - while you may no longer have had an intense hatred for Bradley’s nemesis cum friend, you still didn’t actively seek out his presence and you definitely didn’t want his attention - not for anything other than a great party as he left your - no, Bradley’s house later that night.)

No - you were jealous of her dress. Her gorgeous, deep garnet, midi-length, sleeveless dress. That looked absolutely stunning on her, though a touch too fancy for a Christmas party in South Park. She looked gorgeous, beautiful - statuesque. 

You absentmindedly fixed the bow on your wrap dress. Your long sleeved, silk wrap dress - that also did plenty to hide any unwanted lines or bumps around your stomach. And your arms. 

Weeks ago, back when the party was but a pipe dream, you’d been eyeing this absolutely adorable, sleeveless, mini-dress for the event. Like your friend’s dress, it probably erred on the side of slightly too fancy for a house party, but it had been so pretty and so perfect. It had sat in your cart online for at least two weeks - you just wanted to see if it would go on sale before you finally pulled the trigger. 

Until Thanksgiving. 

When you saw how unflattering your arms looked in the black cashmere tank you’d brought for dinner to your parents’ house. You thanked your past self for having the forethought to pack a cardigan, which didn’t come off until hours later after all your aunts and uncles and cousins had left and you were snuggled up in Bradley’s arms. 

Maybe you should try the HIIT classes on your Peloton instead of all those beginner rides you were still doing with Cody? Or get arm weights? The girls who worked out in the front two rows of your pilates class swore by them. They barely needed any input from the instructor - they just knew how to move their bodies that way. Or maybe you could ask your parents for a higher Class Pass subscription for Christmas? It would give you something to focus on while Bradley was gone. 

You hadn’t been this self conscious at the gala back in October and that dress was far more daring than anything you’d ever worn before; practically open back, with a risqué slit and a deep v neckline, to say nothing of what you had worn just for Bradley later that night. 

So, why now? Why tonight when you were supposed to be enjoying this time with your boyfriend and all your friends before the holidays? Why tonight, when everything else was going so right, were you being bogged down by this insecurity in your own home - no, no, it was Bradley’s home, not yours.

Was it because he was leaving? And you didn’t want one of his last images of you for three months to be your arms in a too tight dress? Because that was so shallow and silly and ridiculous. 

But what if it was true? Bradley was so pretty and handsome and charming and sweet, what if there was someone else on that boat that also thought he was pretty and handsome and charming and sweet? And you’d seen all the other aviators and naval personnel at that gala, they were stunning. What if Bradley thought that too - no, no, no. You weren’t going to focus on that for one of your last nights with him. 

Bradley loved you, Bradley proved how much he loved you every single day, Bradley catered to your every whim about this party with the biggest smile on his face. 

Bradley loved you. 

You were just being ridiculous and shallow and over dramatic and spiraling before he left. Bradley loved you, Bradley loved you. He loved you. He - was wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“How’s it going?” His voice rumbled in your ear and you leaned back against him. 

God, he was so strong and soft and warm and smelled so pretty all the time. You were going to miss him so much. You felt him fiddle with the bow tying your burgundy dress together and ducked your head. 

“Good, just came to get a drink.” Which you had been doing - about three minutes ago. “And wanted to make sure everyone in here was all set.”

Bradley hummed and swayed you back and forth in his arms. “Look at you, hostess with the mostess - or however that goes. You want me to make you another drink?”

You nodded. “Please.”

You both had decided to set up the bar in the kitchen, while keeping the food in the dining room and the dessert in the sitting room for later. Hours ago, before you had even hopped in the shower, the bar had been painstakingly set up and organized. Now, it needed some work. You cursed yourself for not checking on it earlier in the evening - you couldn’t believe your guests had been serving themselves from this all night. 

The glasses were no longer in neat rows, organized by type, the bowl with the limes was running dangerously low, and the caps to the liquor bottles and the champagne corks were scattered across the table. Without a second thought, you started organizing everything before Bradley could even get you a fresh glass. 

You could tell he wanted to say something, but - at least for that moment - he just rubbed your back and then poured you another glass of champagne, making sure to put the bottle back properly. Meanwhile, you scooped up the stray corks and foil and other bottle caps and threw them in the garbage underneath the sink. You had enough time, maybe you could pop those dirty wine glasses in the empty dishwasher? Wait - there was a puddle of condensation underneath an open bottle of champagne. You frowned. Clearly, someone hadn’t put it back in the bucket. Who would do that? Didn’t they know to put it back exactly where -  

“- You good?” 

Bradley’s voice was so soft and reassuring and you couldn’t believe you’d soon be going without hearing it for months. Unable to wait another second, you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, which he eagerly returned and you nuzzled his chest. Bradley’s shirt for the party was an exceptionally soft flannel in a solid navy color that you’d found on sale. He hated buying himself clothes, even more so spending a lot of money on them, but he always liked whatever you picked out for him. 

Maybe you could buy him some new clothes while he was gone? By now, you knew what he liked and didn’t like - right down to the colors and fabric types. He needed some new undershirts - and socks. You nuzzled your face into his chest. He felt so warm and soft and smelled so good. You had to buy a travel sized bottle of his cologne before he left. 

“You sure you’re okay, kid?” he asked again. 

“Just a little overwhelmed - and kinda tired.” You pulled your head back to look at him, but the two of you still kept your arms around the other. 

“Well,” Bradley started, “to be fair, you did do like all the work for this party, think it’s valid to be a little tired, sweetheart.”

“What? No?” You were offended on his behalf. “Bubs, you made all the food and -”

“- Yeah, but you helped with the food and did all the work getting the house ready.”

You cocked your head, considering this. “I mean, I did. Didn’t I?” Bradley chuckled. “Okay, fine - I’m tired. But it’s a good tired, I think?”

“A good tired, huh?” His thumbs were making the most soothing circles on your hips.

“Like a heart full tired? A changing for dinner after a spending a day at the beach tired - no, wait. A post gala eating french fries in bed and watching Moonstruck tired?” An after you fucked me so hard I could barely remember my own name tired. 

“You should’ve just led with that last one.” He kissed your temple and ran his hands up and down the silk fabric covering your arms. “Would’ve known exactly what you were talking about then.”

You lightly shoved his chest and then pulled him back in for a hug. “I’m also gonna miss you a lot…”

That was the crux of it. You were going to miss him so much you thought your heart was going to burst. And enjoying all the Christmas festivities tonight - on the second Saturday in December - made it all the more apparent that Bradley wasn’t going to be with you over the holidays. He wouldn’t be with you again until March. 

You two had gotten through plenty of training missions, short diplomatic visits, and off-sites - on your end - over the last eight months. But this was Bradley’s first, real deployment. 

God, if only Emily Simpson could see you now. You and Bradley had both been so cocky, so confident back in October at the gala about how effortlessly you handled the time spent apart. But you hadn’t been staring down a three month long deployment back then. 

Three months was a long time. Six pay cycles, at least twelve trips to the grocery, four off-sites, the entirety of Q1, five nail appointments, twenty four pilates classes, and if he knocked you up that very night, it could be the entirety of a first trimester of pregnancy. Not that you wanted to be pregnant - at least not for a while. Like quite a while. It was just a way to compare time. You didn’t want to be pregnant. 

Three months, three months, three months. 

And then he’d come home to you. To you and your life together.

That’s why the party had to be perfect. Because it would remind Bradley of home and all he had to look forward to when he came back in three months. 

“I’m gonna miss you, too.  Never really had someone to miss before on one of these - not like this.” 

And then he kissed you - quick, little butterfly kisses that soon turned bolder and more daring, especially considering there were five or so other people milling about the kitchen. Bradley’s tongue licked your bottom lip, eventually coaxing your mouth open. He tasted like the old fashioned you saw him drinking earlier. You slid your arms up his chest to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and fiddled with the ends of his soft hair. 

The sounds of the party disappeared around you - you could no longer hear Frank Sinatra singing Jingle Bells, Jake and Georgie talking in the corner, or Javy getting drinks for him and his girlfriend to your right.

All you could focus on was Bradley. And how warm and soft and strong he felt in your arms and how -

“- Fuck’s sake, Bradshaw. Do you want us to leave or…”

You turned around to face Jake and Georgie, the latter of whom looked beyond embarrassed, and leaned back against Bradley’s chest. Shit - you’d forgotten you had an audience, especially Jake and Javy.

“Sorry…” You felt warm all over at getting caught. Normally, you and Bradley weren’t big on PDA, but you’d been needy lately - both of you had been. 

Further down to your right, Javy just chuckled. “Give ‘em a break. You’d be the same if you could hold someone down long enough.” Bradley laughed, while Jake turned beat red.

While him and Javy started chirping at each other, Bradley took your hand and led you out of the kitchen, past all the guests congregating in the dining room and over towards the sitting room. 

“Here, I know what’ll cheer you up.”

There were only a couple people in this part of the house - Caroline and Max, Bob and Callie, and Natasha and Rory, the latter of whom had gone with her to the gala back in October. They were a relatively quiet crowd and looked to be captivated by a story Max was telling. But then again, people were always captivated by Max. 

“…so I say to Garoppolo, ‘you really wanna get the shit beaten out of you for the second time this week?’ Because a guy who folds in front of the fucking Broncos’ defensive line is not one I think can handle being humiliated like this on - aww, if it isn’t Bradley-Boy and our lovely hostess. Come here and give me a kiss, sweetheart.” You chuckled and started over towards Max. “No, not you, darling. I meant Bradley-Boy.” 

With giggles and jeers, everyone turned towards Bradley, who was definitely blushing. But ever the dutiful host, he trudged over towards Max and planted a sloppy kiss on his forehead. 

You had met Max over a year ago via your best friend from college, Caroline. Bradley, on the other hand, had met Max in late March at Mission Beach, right before the two of you had started going out. 

Since moving back to California, Bradley had taken up surfing again and relished his weekend mornings out in the chilly Pacific. It had taken a couple weeks for the guys to realize they were both regulars and get past the initial head nod greeting, but after that they got on like a house on fire. Despite Max being a typical nepotism baby, VC-firm-bro type and Bradley the outgoing, naval man, they were each other’s best friend.

And to be perfectly honest, you thought they may have been a little in love with each other.

Who knows, maybe you would have been at Bradley and Max’s holiday party if you hadn’t met him in April.

“All good now, peaches?” Bradley teased and then turned to everyone else in their little group. “Just so you know, the story ends with Jimmy G challenging Maxi-Pad to a closest to the pin contest and Max shanking his tee shot.”

You laughed and wrapped your free arm back around Bradley’s waist. “Was this how you planned to cheer me up?”

“Oh, god. What’d you do now, Rooster?” Natasha teased. 

“Can I call you ‘Rooster?’” Max asked, much to Caroline’s delight.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Bradley said and then turned towards Natasha. “And nothing, just trying to do everything so can to make sure my girl has a lovely evening.” Everyone let out various sighs and swoons, except Nat and Max, who feigned gagging. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

He grabbed your free hand again and brought you over to the upright piano in the corner, next to where Callie and Bob were lounging on the loveseat. You desperately hoped Bradley was going to play for you - maybe even some Christmas carols. He had such a natural talent for it, even beyond his usual Hard Deck repertoire of that damn Jerry Lee Lewis song. He could play Debussy, Ravel, Schumann - anything, really. You figured he’d start off with Jingle Bells or something like that, but he surprised you with something new.

Bradley’s fingers twinkled out the opening notes to Linus and Lucy and you, and the others in the sitting room, couldn’t help but laugh. He had been right - this did cheer you up. You had always loved the Peanuts. 

Growing up, you’d gone to the Charles Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa too many times to count. It became your favorite place during your parents’ divorce and you always begged your dad to take you whenever you were having a bad day. But then, when the divorce had been finalized and you, your dad and brother eventually moved down to Berkeley, you didn’t get the opportunity to go as often. But your love for the cartoon characters never died and you had the sneaking suspicion that Bradley had learned the song for you - this was the first time you’d ever heard him play it.

You took a hearty sip of your champagne and leaned your arms on the top of the piano, eventually resting your cheek against your fist. Your cheeks hurt from the massive smile stretching across your face as you looked fondly at Bradley. He was concentrating so hard, his tongue was peeking out of his mouth. And his long, graceful fingers were flying across the keys. 

You couldn’t imagine how long it took him to learn this if he was already off book. Did you mention his fingers? His hands? God, they were beautiful. Strong and long and corded - was that the right word? You recalled it from those regency romance novels you had hidden on your Kindle. God, you loved him so much. So fucking much. You’d never loved a person this much before - oh, you were going to miss him so much.

“You two are just like Lucy and Schroeder,” Callie cooed, snapping you out of your thoughts and causing Bradley to fumble a couple of notes. He also was blushing, which was sweet. 

A couple more people filtered into the sitting room, drawn in by the music, and soon people were throwing out requests for Bradley to play while others chatted in the background. He took Pete’s suggestion of Jingle Bells and soon played a jazzy version of the song. 

While Bradley played, the older man came up to you to chat. Penny couldn’t make it to the party, which was admittedly a bit of a disappointment, but she was hoping to stop by later once things wound down a bit at the Hard Deck. 

“Hell of a party, kid.” He toasted you with his beer. 

“Thanks, I just wanted to do something nice for Bradley.”

“Pretty sure you could’ve gotten a pizza and he would’ve been happy.”

You considered that. “True, but that hardly sounds fun - plus, this way I could get a new outfit.”

Pete smiled and you both glanced over towards the piano for a moment as Bradley got Natasha and Bob to sing along with him. It was nice seeing them all carefree and happy and just lighter. Bradley glanced over his shoulder at you and winked. 

“It’s nice seeing him like this,” Pete said. “Hell, last Christmas it was like pulling teeth to get the kid over to Penny’s for Christmas Eve and to see him get a tree and have people over at his place is just - it makes me really happy. Sorry if that’s corny or -”

“- No,” you reassured him, “well, maybe a little. But corny is good sometimes. Especially around the holidays.”

“You guys gonna do gifts tomorrow or…”

You shook your head. “Nah, we’re gonna do them tonight after everyone leaves.”

Pete took a sip of his beer and nodded. “The kid wouldn’t stop talking about your gift, I swear he told everyone on base.”

You felt yourself heat up and glanced over at Bradley again. “Really?” Pete nodded. “I’m nervous now, we promised we were only doing one present, so I hope he likes mine...”

“He will,” Pete sounded certain. “You think you guys will do this at your place every year? Maybe start a new tradition?”

That was a lovely thought. Celebrating Christmas with Bradley for the next x amount of years. Plus, doing this before Christmas would give everyone the opportunity to get together before the actual holidays. 

“Oh, I’d love to,” you gushed, “but it’s Bradley’s call. It’s his house - what?”

Pete cut you off with a look. “Come on, by now you know it’s your house as much as Bradley’s…”

Oh, gosh. You hoped so - one day, at least. The two of you barely spent a night apart, baring whenever one of you was away for work. You barely considered your apartment your home anymore. Instead, it was on the couch in Bradley’s living room, watching TV. Or cooking breakfast together on the weekends and watching Sunday Morning at the kitchen table. Laying beside him in bed at night, his big arms wrapped around you, as you whispered how much you loved each other. You had never felt this way before Bradley, like another person was home. 

And you wanted to be home all the time. 

You could feel the heat creep up your neck, the warmth only amplified by Bradley’s soothing voice singing Let It Snow. 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Pete apologized, “I just wanted you to know that I can see how much you guys care about each other. And he’s my kid - at the end of the day, I just want him to be happy.” He laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder and you ducked your head before nodding.

Back when you had first met him, you had imagined that gaining Pete’s approval was how you would have felt had Bradley’s parents been alive to give it to you. You thought about them often - more often than you’d ever let Bradley think - and especially as of late. Would they have liked you? Would they have gotten along with your parents? From what you’d been told, they would have made amazing grandparents. Maybe Bradley would even have had more siblings? Maybe, maybe, maybe.

“He makes me really happy, too,” you whispered. Pete pulled you in for a hug and then the two of you just watched Bradley playing for a few moments while the party continued around you two. 

“I’m gonna get another beer, you want anything?” Pete asked. 

You just shook your head. “Nah, I’m good for now, but thanks again for coming. It means a lot to both of us.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, just make sure the kid doesn’t drink too much. He always gets a little chatty…” And then Pete set off towards the kitchen, leaving you alone, but only for a moment until you heard Max’s voice in the hallway.

“Caro, darling, will you help me with something outside…” You crept over towards him, curious to see what he was up to and why he needed Caro’s help.

Caroline didn’t even look up from her phone. “I’m not giving you a handjob, darling.”

“Oh, please don’t,” you drawled, alerting them both to your presence, “Mr. Harrington already thinks we’re delinquents, can’t have him thinking we associate with them, too,” you said referring to your - no, Bradley’s neighbor. 

Mr. Harrington hadn’t exactly called you and Bradley delinquents - rather, he had called you a fresh young lady after you had unknowingly flipped him off at an intersection in another neighborhood, only to find out that he was the crotchety old man that lived next door to Bradley. He had been waiting for you in the driveway when you’d gotten home a few minutes later, demanding to talk to Bradley about you. But the old man hadn’t stood a chance with you and Bradley had just stood on the porch with a proud smile on his face as you gave him a piece of your mind. Since then, he’d just pass silent judgment whenever he saw you outside.

Max held up two fingers. “I’ll be on my best behavior, Scout’s honor.”

“It’s three fingers, dumbass.”

He breezed past you and started towards the door, gesturing for Caroline to follow him. “Good thing I was never a Boy Scout then…”

“Please, Max. Just tell me if you’re going to -”

“- Secrets, secrets are only fun unless you don’t share with anyone -”

“- That’s not even how it goes!” 

Max shrugged and grabbed Caroline’s hand, pulling her close to his side. “It’ll be fun, we promise! Plus, maybe Max won’t even come back to the party…”

Oh, he was definitely doing the Santa thing. But at this point, maybe it would be fun and memorable? And maybe you were just drunk enough to let it happen. 

“Fine, fine. As long as Max doesn’t come back to the party, you can do whatever you have planned -” 

Max cut you off with a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, love. Now, Caro! Your assistance, please!”

You waved them off towards the front door and made your way back to the sitting room where Bradley was taking requests for his next song. 

His eyes were scanning the room for whom you realized was you and a great, big smile spread across his face. “Nah, I got one already. Just needed my girl in here for this.” You chuckled and walked over towards the piano. “Figured we had to end on a high note, plus I heard a rumor Santa’s coming…”

There were hoots and hollers throughout the room, which didn’t let up even as Bradley played the first notes of the song he apparently needed you for assistance. 

“I’ll sing the first few lines, but then you gotta take over, alright, sweetheart?”

You sat next to him on the narrow bench and giggled, not quite knowing what he had up his sleeve, but more than ready to go along for the ride. “You got it, rocketman.”

Bradley pecked you on the lips and then turned to the room as he played. 

“I really can’t stay…baby, it’s cold outside…I’ve got to go ‘way…baby, it’s cold outside…”

Oh god. 

---------------

Hours later, after all your guests had left, fuller and far drunker than they’d been when they’d arrived, you and Bradley were tidying up the living room. The dishwasher was rumbling in the kitchen, the first of many loads you’d have to do tonight and tomorrow, but it was drowned out by the music still playing on the Sonos, while the extra food had been put away in the fridge.

From your spot across the room where you were fluffing the couch cushions, you glanced over towards Bradley. He sat, leaning against the chaise lounge, and idly sipped from a bottle of champagne that he kept putting down on the floor - though on a coaster, mind you. His hair was perfectly tousled and messy and he had a pleased smile on his face as he stared at the Christmas tree in front of him. His right hand was absentmindedly running up and down his thigh, just begging for you to ride it.

You joined him on the floor and he wordlessly passed the bottle of champagne to you before throwing his arm around your shoulders. 

“You did good, kid,” he said suddenly. 

A smile lit up your face. “Really?” Brady chuckled at your earnestness. “You’re not just saying that because this is like the first halfway decent party you’ve ever -”

“- Hey! I’ve been to plenty of decent parties! But I think - I think that this might be the best one yet.”

As a reward for his sweetness, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You think everyone got along? I only overheard one argument between Caro and Jake.” And it had been over the latest cryptocurrency scandal of all things. 

“Yeah, but to be fair, I think trauma bonding over your singing really brought everyone together.”

You were not as bad as Bradley had said - at the very least, you could carry a tune. Granted, you wouldn’t be on the Voice anytime soon, but if you were an SNL cast member and needed to sing for a sketch, you might be okay. And no one really focused on the actual singing during Baby It’s Cold Outside - it wasn’t exactly the paragon of Christmas songs or social norms. 

But it was just about the perfect duet, in that it was a crowd pleaser, a little slutty, and campy as hell. And as it so happened, you had been feeling a little slutty with all the champagne you had drunk throughout the evening. Plus, with Bradley on the keys and no one else sober enough to make fun of your less than stellar singing skills, you had been a glutton for attention. You had used your champagne coupe as a microphone and had only spilled a couple drops - at first.

“- But baby, it's cold outside -”

“ - This welcome has been -”

“ - How lucky that you dropped in -”

“ - So nice and warm -”

“ - Look out the window at that storm -”

“ - My sister will be suspicious -”

“ - Gosh, your lips look delicious -” Bradley kissed your proffered hand and you shimmied around the piano bench, eventually draping yourself over his shoulders while he continued playing.

Would you regret it in the morning? Probably. Did the song have a weird history? Yes. But it was your goddamn Christmas party! And you had wanted to have fun and fawn over your boyfriend. It had also been a good distraction from what you had correctly assumed was Max planning to crash the party as Santa with a sleigh full of presents for everyone. But Max was richer than Croesus; he could afford it.

“Come on, Bradshaw. How’s she been this year? Naughty or nice?”

You shot Bradley a glance, curious as to what his answer would be. But he just smiled wryly and toasted Max with his drink before taking a sip.

You closed the distance between the two of you and whispered in his ear, “Clever boy…”

He grabbed your ass, thankfully out of sight of your guests. “My smart girl…”

“Is that what you want me to be tonight?”

Frankly, you had been shocked Bradley hadn’t kicked everyone out then and there. 

But now you were cozy and tired in all the best ways and had Bradley to yourself for the rest of the evening. You burrowed your face into his chest and pressed a couple kisses to the column of his neck, suddenly desperate to touch him. It seemed Bradley was of the same mindset and carefully settled you on his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling you closer and you shifted your attention to his lips. 

Somehow, the two of you wound up laying on the floor at the edge of the Christmas tree. The soft lights made Bradley’s brown eyes appear like pools of chocolate and you flushed. He groaned as you rolled your hips against his lap, already feeling the bulge forming in his jeans. Shit - were you going to fuck underneath the Christmas tree? Like properly fuck on the floor underneath the Christmas tree.

You started grinding against him, desperate to be closer, and then kissed along his neck in the hopes of leaving a reminder of this night for him. You peered up at the Christmas tree, lost in the beauty of the moment, when you suddenly noticed something. 

The presents.

The presents under the tree.

The three presents under the tree. 

Except…

There were only supposed to be two presents under the tree. One from each of you. You had been very clear about that right after Thanksgiving. Had even set a price limit.

Fuck. Oh, no. No, no, no. You pulled back and Bradley chased your lips with his own.

“Bubs! We said one present each!” 

He shrugged underneath you and kept rubbing his hands in soothing circles on your hips. “It’s nothing - well, it’s not nothing. But it’s just something I’ve been thinking about for a while and I figured this would be a good time.”

“But - but I only got you one!” 

Oh god - oh god. You ruined it. You ruined Bradley’s Christmas. You knew you should’ve gotten him that Otis Redding vinyl, too. But a Theragun? What had you been thinking? That was such a dumb gift. So impersonal, so boring, so basic. It was on three different gift guides from the Strategist for fuck’s sake. You figured it would be good for his back while he was deployed, you knew it had been giving him a lot of trouble lately. But now that Bradley had given you two gifts? In two separate boxes? 

You didn’t think the ornament you’d gotten him counted as a separate gift. Tacking it onto the box was just something your family had always done.

Clearly noticing the panic on your face, Bradley sat up slightly. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s -”

“- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ruin everything. I knew I should’ve had a back up present for you-”

He said your name firmly and you looked up at him. “- You didn’t ruin anything, alright? Hey, why don’t you open it first and then we can talk about it, okay?”

“Okay…”

You reached out for the present like it was going to explode, barely even taking notice of how nicely it had been wrapped. (Granted, you were still you, so you did actually notice, but probably would have fawned over the quaint wrapping paper and grosgrain ribbon a bit more had you not already been wigging out.) Next to you, Bradley bit his lip as he watched you peel through the paper. Why was he so nervous? He always gave you the best presents.

At first, there was nothing but a small gift box. It wasn’t terribly heavy. And it definitely wasn’t jewelry. Mainly because any of the jewelry you actually would have liked was definitely not within the spending limit, which Bradley knew. But also, it just didn’t feel like jewelry. It couldn’t have been an ornament, he wouldn’t have been this nervous.

So, what the fuck was it?

You slid your finger underneath the flap of the box and popped the lid open. But then there was the tissue paper. Goddamnit, Bradley! Why was he so good at wrapping presents! You glanced up at him only to see that he was blushing. Properly blushing. Like pink neck, pink cheeks - hell, even the tips of his ears were pink - blushing. 

Unable to take the suspense a moment longer, you dove into the tissue paper to find -

“- A key?” Your fingers gently picked up the offending object, only belatedly noticing that the key fob matched your favorite work tote bag. 

Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to ask you to move in with me for ages, it’s just we had so much time until it would become an issue, but then I got deployed and I know your lease will just about be up by the time I get back in the spring. So, I figured now would be a good time to ask if you wanted to move in with me? But if you think it’s too soon, I can totally wait. However long it takes for you to be comfortable with it is fine with me - I just want to have my life with you.”

“Bubs…” your voice was thick. “I uhh -”

“- I always want to come home to you - if you’ll have me?”

Oh god, oh god, oh god. You let out a disbelieving laugh. You would have Bradley Bradshaw in any way you could get him. He was your home.

You wiped away a wayward tear. “Bradley, this is - this is so unbelievably perfect. Yes, yes, I will move with you.”

He surged forward to kiss you and you temporarily forgot all your previous worries because Bradley wanted to move in with you. He wanted to share furniture and go grocery shopping for food that would go in the same fridge. He wanted to wake up beside you every single morning and come home to you every single evening and go to sleep beside you every single night. He wanted everything. And that’s what you wanted to give him.

“God, I love you so much.”

You never got tired of hearing him say that. “I love you, too. Sorry I made such a big deal about the presents…”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just put it in with the other gift, I get how it could have thrown you off.”

He was being nice and not pushing it for the moment, which you really appreciated. “Say, why don’t you open your gift from me and then I’ll open your other one?”

You crawled over towards the other two presents under the tree and gave the one that said to; rocketman to Bradley, while you took the other one with your name on it. It was decently sized and relatively light. The thing with Bradley that always made you nervous was that he gave the best presents.

For your birthday, he had not only organized a trip for the two of you out to Catalina Island, but he had also learned how to fucking sail Penny’s boat, so he could be the one to take you there himself. He had been so excited and had looked so cute in his white linen pants and navy blue button down and you swore you had never been more attracted to him. 

And then, for your six month anniversary, he had somehow gotten you two into Addison out in Carmel Valley for dinner and then followed that up with a trip to the drive-in to see a special showing of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Though to be fair, neither of you had paid as much attention to the movie as you had been too busy necking each other in the backseat of the Bronco.

In short, he was a prince among men. Well, except when he wasn’t. But that wasn’t often. So, you were excited, but wary to open his gift, knowing nothing could possibly top the house key.

You tore through the wrapping paper to find another box similar to the one from earlier, except this one was heavier. Beneath the tissue paper laid a thick white envelope and an apron in a Liberty pattern. Your smile grew as you opened the envelope and saw that Bradley had gifted you cooking lessons for the next three months.

“Bubs.” You nudged his shoulder. “This is perfect, thank you. The apron is super cute, too.”

Bradley chuckled. “Now you can stop wearing mine and hopefully stop burning risotto -”

“- It was one time!” 

“Yeah and you almost burned down your apartment.” You made a face and he made one right back before turning serious. “But I thought it would be nice, something for you to do while I’m gone.”

You kissed his cheek. “I’m excited and I’m gonna make you the best dinner you’ve ever had when you come home to me, alright?”

“It’s a date.” 

“Perfect, now open yours!” You pushed the present towards him. 

Bradley was one of those people that opened presents like they were going to save the wrapping paper, which meant he did it slowly and purposefully. This normally didn’t bother you, but you were already a little on edge from earlier and had to sit on your hands to stop you from ripping the paper off yourself.

First, he took off the little ornament you had affixed to the package. Harkening back to your first date, you had gotten him a Saturn V Rocket ornament to add to the tree, giving your rocketman something to aspire to.

He shook his head. “I’ll get there one day, sweetheart…” he said fondly. “Now let’s see what we have here.”

The nerves settled in your stomach again and you barely let him unwrap the present before you jumped on him with an explanation.

“Wait, is this one of those -”

“ - It’s a Theragun. I know I make fun of you for having a sore back and being old a lot, but I thought this could help when you’re deployed and I’m not around to tend to your every need,” you teased.

Bradley conceded a nod. “You do give good back massages…” You preened. “But I get these ads on my Instagram all the time, so this is perfect, thank you.”

“I figured it wasn’t something you’d buy for yourself and it’ll come in hand -”

“- I bet it’s a wicked strong vibrator - owww!”

“Bradley!” You giggled. Holy shit, you hadn’t even thought of that. There were like five different speeds on that thing and six different attachments. Fuck. “In that case, maybe I should keep it…”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He slid the box behind his back and you crawled over to steal it away from him.

But before you could wrap your arms around him, Bradley pulled you into his lap and eventually the Theragun was pushed away and the two of you were sprawled out on the floor making out like a bunch of horny teenagers again.

Goddamn - you really were gonna fuck underneath the Christmas tree, weren’t you? Now that would be the perfect memory for Bradley to take with him. Festive and fun and spontaneous.

His hands felt sinful as they crept up your thighs. It was like he was mapping out the slowest route to his destination, especially as they cupped your ass and ground your body against his. Suddenly, you let out a hiss as your elbow hit the hardwood floor, but quickly reassured Bradley that you were okay once he stopped to check in with you.

He whispered your name. “I need you so badly.”

“- Fuck, me too. Want you to take me right here -”

“- Owww,” Bradley let out a groan against your lips.

You immediately pulled back, concern lacing your features. “Shit, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just - I don’t think we should do this on the floor?”

“But it’s very spur of the moment?” You glanced around the living room, past the Christmas tree and the wrapping paper from your respective presents. “What about the couch?”

“We just got it dry-cleaned - again.”

You sat further back on his lap and Bradley propped himself up on his elbows. Your wrap dress draped prettily over your bare thighs. “We can put a towel down?”

“Isn’t it upstairs?”

You made a face. “I could go get it? Or we could break out a new one?”

“Then I might as well come upstairs with you -”

“- But I want it to be spontaneous!”

He rolled his hips and you sighed. “We can be spontaneous upstairs…”

“Yeah, but…” You could feel the tears starting to form and your throat closing up.

Bradley tried to get in your line of sight after you ducked your head. “Hey, what is it? It’s alright.”

You sniffled. “I just want you to have some good memories before you leave and be spontaneous - especially since during the party I was pretty stressed and uptight -” The last word came out bitterly, but Bradley didn’t let you finish your sentence. 

“- Hey, none of that, alright? I knew you were a little stressed, but just chalked it up to the party. What’s really going on, sweetheart?”

You wanted to tell him. That you were going to miss him and wanted him to be able to think of the two of you doing all these fun and exciting and wonderful things before he left. That you didn’t want him to think of you crying and puffy eyed and sad. That you didn’t want him to think of you having sex in your bed, like any other night, but how you couldn’t even make it upstairs because you needed each other so much, so desperately and had to make due with the living room floor. 

Just say you were tired. Just say you were tired. 

But when Bradley took your hand and threaded your fingers together and started drawing circles across your palm, the tears came. And came and came and didn’t stop. You rubbed at your eyes with your free hand and repositioned yourself to lay beside him. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, come here.” Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulders and let you rest your head on his chest. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, honey.” 

Once the tears slightly abated, you took in a deep breath to ground yourself. “I wanted everything to be perfect for you since you’re not going to be home for Christmas and all this stuff went wrong -”

“- Sweetheart, baby, no, no. It didn’t go wrong, everything went really really right.”

“Really?” you whispered.

Bradley chuckled. “Yeah, best Christmas I’ve had since - fuck, I can’t remember when. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around you.

“I know it was dumb to be worried about it - and to let myself get upset over it - but I think I was just so focused on the party and the presents and making everything perfect because I don’t want to think too much about you leaving.” You sniffled. “And I feel like that makes me seem childish or like I can’t handle this - your job, I mean. But I’m really just going to miss you, so fucking much. And I’ve never felt like this before.”

The look in Bradley’s eyes after you unloaded all that made you feel ten times lighter and you regretted not saying anything earlier. 

“Sweetheart…” He tucked your hair behind your ear. “It’s definitely not dumb to be worried about stuff like that and I know you can handle all of this - I’m not worried in that respect. I just want you to know how much I appreciated every single thing you’ve done for me these last couple weeks trying to make sure I had a good Christmas. And I know it’s cliche to say, but it’s the goddamn truth - I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you, alright?”

Your heart soared and you felt the tears forming again at his words. I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you. Because in the end, that was all that really mattered. You just kept your reply simple. “Alright, rocketman.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You kissed him again. “I love you so much, bubs.”

“Even though I’m old and don’t think we should fuck on the living room floor?” 

You chuckled at his attempt to bring some levity into an otherwise heavy conversation. “Yes, Bradley. I love you even though you wouldn’t let me fuck you on the living room floor…”

This time, Bradley pulled you closer, so your body was spread out on top of him and kissed you, licking your bottom lip before opening your mouth up to him. His hands snuck underneath the skirt of your silk dress, skirting the edge of your panties. You sighed. His hands were calloused and a little rough, but they still touched you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

“Hold up, I never said I wouldn’t let you, I just said I don’t think - hey!” Bradley tried to fend off your tickle attack, but could only get a few words out between his giggles. “Stop, you know I’m old!”

Your ridiculously handsome, thirty-six year old, naval aviator boyfriend was giggling on the floor of your house because your were tickling his sides. If only you could show this version of Bradley to the Navy - maybe then they wouldn’t take him away from you at Christmas. Stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin. 

“Also, are you still upset that I got you two presents? Because if you are, can I just make you come once tonight? Level the field.”

You giggled. “Shut up.” Your kiss cut off any reply he had been about to give and you licked his bottom lip, coaxing open his mouth. 

“Uh, uh, uh.” You paused and tilted your head slightly to look Bradley in the eye. “Now, what did Santa ask earlier, huh? You been naughty or nice this year?”

There were two ways in which this could play out - with two different, though ultimately satisfying results. One would play out relatively quickly - and the other would ensure you were occupied all night. 

“Nice?” 

Bradley clicked his tongue. “Don’t know about that…”

“Why not? Haven’t I been good?” You pouted, completely exaggerated, which Bradley picked up on in an instant.

“Good girls don’t typically have to ask if they’ve been good…”

“Maybe I don’t want to be good tonight…”

Bradley sucked in a breath as you snuck your hand underneath his shirt and teased the waistband of his jeans. His skin was hot to the touch beneath your fingers as you unbuttoned his shirt. You leaned forward to press little butterfly kisses to his neck and gradually made your way down past the little tufts of hair on his chest. 

“Please touch me, sweetheart. Please.” 

There was a carnal need inside you to mark his skin. To give him proof of your love and need for him, so that he could look at the marks in the mirror until they faded. A kiss across his neck, a soft bite on his shoulder, another on his bicep by his tattoo. You’re mine. Mine, mine, mine. And I want everyone to know. 

“God, Bradley. You’re so beautiful,” you whispered against his skin. “So beautiful and all mine.”

Bradley let out a whine as your teeth grazed against the sensitive flesh on his neck. “Fuck, I love you.”

His hands inched up your thighs, getting closer to the throbbing heat between your legs. Maybe it was the festive spirit, the fact that Bradley had asked you to move in with him, or that he was shipping out in 28 hours for three months, but you were pathetically wet already. Desperate and needy and as naughty as he had joked earlier. 

“I can feel the heat pouring off you, sweetheart.” 

“Can we go - ahhh - can we go upstairs, please?”

He pulled back slightly. “What happened to fucking on the living room floor?” he teased. 

“Don’t want to fuck up your old man back anymore - Bradley!” you cried out as he smacked your ass. 

“Old man, huh?” His smile was sinful and you were putty in his hands.

You widened your eyes, trying to appear contrite. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen - Bradley!” He cut you off again, but this time because he was tickling your sides and your giggles made it impossible to speak. “Ta-take me upstairs, bubs - please. Don’t - don’t want you to hold back.”

“Now how could I refuse that?”

Gradually, the two of you made your way upstairs to the bedroom, though with a couple of breaks in between for Bradley to press you up against the walls and on the staircase. You’d have bruises tomorrow, you were sure. But you wanted them to last - to be something to remember this night by for the weeks and months to come. 

You landed heavily on the bed, bouncing slightly, and peered up at Bradley. His bare chest was rising and falling steadily with each breath he took as he looked you over, like he was trying to memorize you. 

Without breaking eye contact, you rose to your knees and pulled at the pretty little bow tying your wrap dress. Hours ago, you’d felt self conscious about your body in front of everyone else, but at that moment you felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. Bradley’s eyes widened as he took in the way you slowly pushed the silk dress off your shoulders, leaving you only in your burgundy bra and panties. It wasn’t exactly a matching set, but the colors matched and that was enough for the two of you that night. 

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

Bradley lunged forward, causing you to fall back against the pillows and you wrapped your legs around his hips with a gleeful cry, which he promptly cut off with his lips. 

After spending ample time just kissing you and running his hands up and down your body, Bradley lavished attention on your breasts, licking and biting and sucking on them like a man possessed. Your nipples were peaked to attention, thanks to the slight chill in the bedroom and his thorough ministrations. With one hand, he paid special attention to the skin just below your nipple, rubbing his middle finger along the tender flesh while thumbing at the raised bud. Meanwhile, his other hand kept trekking downward towards your clit. 

“Oh god!” you cried out against his lips as he slid his fingers inside you and crooked them just right. 

“So fucking wet, sweetheart.”

Fuck. You could feel yourself clenching around him, desperate for something more. You were needy for him that night. Needy to have your boyfriend all to yourself. To give yourself to him completely. Your orgasm was well and truly building up inside you, but you wanted to come on his cock first. There would be plenty more opportunities that night to come apart in other ways. 

You’d work him all through the night if you had to just to get your fix before he left. The thought made you desperate. 

“Bu-bubs, please. I need more - need your cock inside me.” You pulled him closer, grazing your thighs against his throbbing cock. 

Bradley groaned. “Such a needy fucking thing, bucking against my fingers like that, huh?” You whined. “But I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow, yeah. Make sure you savor it.”

It sounded fucking sinful the way your cunt was sucking in Bradley’s fingers. He’d begun scissoring them inside you so as to not have to remove them just yet. 

More. More. More. You chanted the words mindlessly in your head. Mine. Mine. Mine. 

Finally, he pulled out his fingers and shamelessly dried them off on your breasts. “You ready?” You nodded frantically. “Don’t think either of us is gonna last long.”

No, you didn’t think so either. But you didn’t want to prolong this. You needed to be close to him and to know he was real and good and yours. At least for tonight. 

Knowing each other as you did, you raised your hips slightly, letting Bradley to slip inside you. You both moaned, you loving the stretch and him loving the tight warmth. You wrapped your arm around his neck, bringing his lips closer to yours, but not daring to lean in those final few centimeters to touch, and instead just breathed against each other. 

“Fuck,” you rasped against his lips, “I love you.”

“Love you so much.” He snapped his hips against yours and you cried out. “Gonna miss you.”

You ducked your head to swipe your lips across the scar on his neck. “Can’t wait for you to come home to me.”

Home. Home. Home. Bradley wouldn’t just be coming back to San Diego in three months: he would be coming home - to you. And to this great, big, beautiful house he wanted to share with you. And to the life he wanted to share with you. 

He groaned your name. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Can’t believe it’s happening.”

Tears pricked your eyes and you bridged the gap to kiss him. “Bubs, I’m so close, please.”

“Tell me how to get you there? I wanna wait for you.” 

If he kept saying things like that, you wouldn’t be too far behind. Without breaking eye contact, you brought Bradley’s hand down to your clit and he played with the sensitive nub. You keened against his hand, which was coupled with a particularly deep thrust of his cock. You felt that coil in your belly finally unraveling.

“‘M close, feels so good. Again…”

He repeated the action again and again, telling you how gorgeous you were as you took his cock and how much he loved you and needed you and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Because for tonight you were.

With a strangled cry of his name, you came and true to his word, Bradley followed shortly after. Fuck. He felt so good. He made you feel so good, so full, so loved. 

“Good girl, such a good girl for me.” He peppered kisses up and down your neck and across your cheeks, before settling on your lips. The two of you sat there like that for a few moments, trying to even out your breathing and be as close together as possible. 

But eventually Bradley had to pull out and you whimpered at the loss. He settled you back against the pillows and then started cleaning you up with the towel in his nightstand. Before he got to your still leaking cunt, he scooped up some of your cum with his fingers and brought it to your lips. 

“Open.” You did so without a second thought and cleaned off his fingers, getting high off the taste of the two of you mixed together. “Good girl.”

Then you let yourself get settled underneath the covers. You could go to the bathroom in a few minutes because right now you wanted to be with Bradley. Your bodies were both hot and sticky underneath the white sheets, but you couldn’t think of anywhere else you wanted to be than in his arms. 

“I’m gonna miss you so much, bubs.” You cupped his cheek tenderly, like he would disappear at any moment. A nagging little voice at the back of your mind said that he would, in fact, do just that - on Monday morning. But that night he was yours. 

Bradley nuzzled your hand, eventually pressing a kiss to your palm. “It’s not too long, just three months.”

“Three months without you.” Kiss. “Without your singing.” Kiss. “Your cooking.” Kiss. “Your smile and your silly little mustache.” Kiss. Kiss. “Three months without you, rocketman.” 

Your eyes were swimming with tears, but they were properly dripping down Bradley’s cheeks. 

“But we still have tonight.”

You still had tonight. And you’d be in each other’s arms till the morning light. 

---------------

Two weeks later, as you sat in your childhood bedroom on Christmas Eve, you were at once hit with a startling realization: it wasn’t your home anymore. It hadn’t been in years, really. Not since you’d officially moved out after college. But that fact had never been so apparent until you were waiting for the Facetime call to connect to Bradley. 

Your home was in San Diego with your friends and your job. Your home was with your boyfriend, snuggled up on the couch watching TV, perusing the aisles of the farmer’s market, watching him surf, and cooking dinner together. Your home was with Bradley. 

And you just wanted to be home - you just wanted Bradley. 

You had put on a brave face during Christmas Eve celebrations with your family - at least with your extended family. You had sung carols at church, helped Mary and your dad prep and lay out all the traditional Christmas Eve dishes, organized the Yankee Swap with your brother and Lauren, and had a few too many cocktails with your cousins. But as the last of your grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins had left and your dad had turned on NBC for the end of It’s a Wonderful Life, you had lost it. 

Properly, honestly, well and truly lost it. As in fat tears streaming down your face, snot clogging your nose, remnants of your mascara rimmed around your eyes lost it.

Goddamn Harry Bailey got to come home in time for Christmas! Harry got to toast to his “big brother George: the richest man in town.” Granted, George had basically just tried to kill himself, so the comparison wasn’t perfect - but still! Congressional Medal of Honor winner, Navy pilot Harry Bailey got to be home for Christmas! Why couldn’t Bradley? Fucking Navy. Fucking stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin. 

At the sight of your tears, Mary had just opened up her blanket and let you burrow against her side as she rubbed your back like she used to when you were a kid, while your dad had gotten you a cup of Sleepytime Tea. Eventually, once you had calmed down enough and they had said all the right words to soothe your heartache, you had kissed your dad and Mary goodnight  - Mary had hugged you a bit tighter than usual - and they both had told you to give Bradley their best during your Facetime call. 

They liked Bradley - a lot, actually. Of course, they’d given him a tough time when they first talked on the phone all those months ago, but by the time Bradley officially met them at Thanksgiving, it was like he’d known them for years. He just fit. 

He loved to talk to Mary about her history classes at Berkeley and how her students were doing. He had the same sense of humor as your dad and also loved the Patriots despite their recent offensive coordinator troubles. 

He just made you lighter and made things lighter. He fit. 

And you could only hope that one year he’d be able to come up to Berkeley with you to celebrate for the holidays instead of being all alone on an aircraft carrier somewhere in the Pacific. Fucking Navy. Fucking stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin.

Shit! The call was finally connecting. You felt tears in your eyes as you finally got to see your beautiful boy again. Though the picture was a little grainy, Bradley was sitting in what looked like one of the quiet rooms in your office, clad in his green flight suit. And he had the most wonderful smile on his face at the sight of you.

“Hey, sweetheart. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, bubs,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t come out as thickly over Facetime as it did in your room.

For what felt like the longest time, but was probably only a few seconds, you stared at each other, just drinking in the other’s face. Bradley already looked tired. This was your first Facetime since he’d left two weeks ago. Normally, you talked over email - which was actually kind of fun. 

Early on in your relationship during a one week special detachment, you had unironically sent him a pretty formal email to check in:

Bradley,

Hope you’re settling in well. Let me know when it would be a good time to connect via FaceTime. I can put some time on my calendar whenever you’re free. I’m heading to an off-site in Raleigh on Thursday, so I’ll be on East Coast time. 

Miss you and stay safe,

x

It had even been from your PwC email address, which he never let you forget. But soon quasi-formal emails became your thing. They probably set off a bunch of red flags to the censor team and you had never sent one from your work email again, but it was fun. You’d even thought of a couple code words and phrases to use.

“You have a good night? How’s your dad and Mary? Tell them thanks again for the package.”

Your parents had had the idea to send everything they normally would have put in Bradley’s Christmas stocking to him on the carrier. He had emailed the three of you a picture of the package, received in perfect condition, on his bunk yesterday. You two had decided that he would open it while you were on your FaceTime call. It wasn’t anything particularly special, except for two small gifts you’d snuck in before bringing it to the post office, but you were excited and could tell Bradley was too.

You held your breath as he parsed through the Dr.Jart sheet masks, Churchill cigars, various Christmas themed candies, new electric toothbrush heads, and scratch cards until he got to the bottom of the stack where your two special presents were hidden.

“Now, what’s this?” He shot you a teasing glance as he opened the envelope. 

You remained tight lipped, just glad it hadn’t been opened by Naval mail security. Bradley slid the object out of the envelope and you could see his eyes widen, even over Facetime, as he realized what it was before he promptly turned it over and glanced around even though there was no one else in the room with him. 

“Shit - how’d you - how’d you take this?” He leaned back in his chair and stared at it, clearly a little in awe.

You felt your cheeks heating up. “Well, I know you have a couple on your phone, but figured an old fashioned one might be nice too - especially if you’re in a tech blackout or whatever it’s called. But do you really like it - seriously, you don’t have -”

“- No, I love it. You’re not getting this back from me.” You giggled. “But you gotta tell me how you managed to get the Polaroid in the shower with you and still get the soapy titties in the picture?”

“Can’t tell you everything, now can I?”

(Caroline had taken them for you. It truly had been a bonding experience and was honestly not half as sexy as Bradley was probably thinking. But you just smiled - more than content to keep that a secret from him.) 

“Well, it is very much appreciated. So, thank you, I love it, seriously.”

You tried to peer into the box from halfway across the world. “There should be one more thing in there from me - and you don’t have to use it, but I know something similar always makes me feel like you’re right next to me…”

Bradley gingerly unwrapped the final tissue paper package only to reveal a travel sized bottle of your perfume. You giggled, watching him spritz his wrist and breathe in the scent.

“Fuck…I’ve missed that.” 

You rested your cheek against your fist and just watched him. For a minute, it felt like he was right in front of you. It made you want to do something terribly cliche like hold your palm up against the screen and imagine you could feel the heat from his hand as he did the same thing back.

But instead Bradley just smiled at you and asked you all about your Christmas Eve activities.

So, you told him about sneaking outside to smoke with your cousins, drinking too much champagne, eating too much food made from your grandma’s recipes from the old country, getting an actually good gift in the Yankee Swap, and crying over Harry Bailey. And he just listened and smiled and asked questions at all the right parts and kept telling you how much he would have loved to do all that beside you next year. 

And then with your remaining five minutes of calltime, Bradley told you all the goings on aboard the ship and how he and Bob and Reuben were doing and about the fancy dinner and breakfast planned for tomorrow.

But then the dreaded countdown clock on the side of the screen popped up, signaling you had thirty seconds left. By then, both of you had tears in your eyes as you tried to say goodbye until your next call.

“So, we’ll talk in two weeks, okay? Should be just after New Year’s, but keep emailing me. I love reading them when I get the chance.”

You wiped a stray tear from your eye. “Of course, I’ll give you a full Christmas morning breakdown.”

Bradley chuckled, but seemed to glance at the countdown clock and sobered up. “I love you, I love you so much and I’m so happy I get to come home to you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too. Merry Christmas, bubs. Please come home.”

-----------

a/n: sorry it took me so fucking long to write again, but a girl can only be so self indulgent! merry christmas, this taglist is shit sorry!

Taglist: @sunderlust @seasonsbloom @ticklish-leafy-plant @lass-that-is-gone @katcoquette @daniellef89x @double-j @bradshawswife @hufflepuffprincesse @cloudycluster @sithbelova @mavencalorers @fav-rooster-fics @thebeautifullydamnedone @unordinare @callsignvalley @pricklepearbloom @browneyedboys @cherrycola27 @whatblogisthis216 @agentofkrypton @lcahwriter @kyliesalvatore @noellreadfiction @coyotesamachado @heartsofminds @jocsrecs @notroosterbradshaw @roosterforme @iblogtopassthetime @karateperson @nessrin @frenchtoastix @piceous21 @princessphilly @spideyngwen @mrsjobarnes @calmpunker @softspiderling @feralforfrank @fivsecondsflat @sexualparkour @greenorangevioletgrass @sexygaypalpatine @moonyscardigans @carousallie @liveholland @supernaturaldawning @melancholyy-hill @currentlybradshaw @summ3rlotus @seesaw-jk @roostereads @milestomaverick @some-lovely-day​ @steadfastconviction​ ​​@sometimesanalice @jupitercomet @rae-gar-targaryen @oncasette @whisperofsong @call-sign-jinx @howdysebby

[alldancersaretalented]

Project 21 Solo Comp Results Season 9

Nuvo Meadowlands (September 29-October 1, 2024)

Junior Solos:

6th: Bristyn Scifres (Ode To The Blue)

7th: Berkeley Scifres (Interrogation Room)

Jump Las Vegas (October 20-22, 2023)

Mini Solos:

4th: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Junior Solos:

3rd: Berkeley Scifres (L.O.V.E.)

4th: Bristyn Scifres (Little Secrets)

5th: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

7th: Madelyn Nasu (This Will Be)

7th: Leilani Lawlor (Cold Hearted Snake)

Teen Solos:

1st: Gracyn French (Sillhouetted in Sunshine)

5th: Stella Eberts (Nebula)

5th: Richie Granese (Black Sea)

10th: Lilly Barajas (Bone Marrow Stem)

10th: Ally Choi (Echo)

Senior Solos:

3rd: Avery Reyes (I Dare You)

3rd: Sammi Chung (The Silent Word)

4th: Lexi Blanchard (Fame)

Nuvo Tulsa (October 27-29, 2023)

Senior Solos:

4th: Kami Couch (Red Desert)

5th: Katie Couch (NERA)

24Seven San Diego (October 27-29, 2023)

Mini Solos:

5th: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

6th: Aliya Yen (All That Jazz)

Junior Solos:

4th: Berkeley Scifres (L.O.V.E.)

5th: Bristyn Scifres (Little Secrets)

5th: Sara Von Rotz (Absolute Final Goodbye)

5th: Kira Lieberman (Awakening)

6th: Madelyn Nasu (This Will Be)

6th: Ellie Anbarden (Somebody Help Me)

7th: Leilani Lawlor (Cold Hearted Snake)

10th: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

Teen Solos:

2nd: Gracyn French (Silhouetted In Sunshine)

3rd: Brooklyn Ladia (Sing It Back)

4th: Richie Granese (Black Sea)

5th: Ally Choi (Echo)

8th: Dillon Barron (Moon Song)

8th: Lilly Barajas (Bone Marrow Stem)

8th: Stella Eberts (Nebula)

9th: Brooklyn Lieberman (The Clock)

10th: Brielle Lieberman (Happiness)

Senior Solos:

2nd: Sammi Chung (The Silent Word)

YAGP San Diego (November 2024)

Pre-Competitive, Contemporary

3rd: Aliya Yen (Matrix)

Pre-Competitive, Classical

Didn't Place: Aliya Yen (Kitri Act III Don Quixote)

Didn't Place: Aliya Yen (Coppelia)

24Seven Chicago (November 3-5, 2023)

Teen Solos:

3rd: Gracyn French (Paul Is Dying)

Radix Anaheim (December 8-10,2024)

Mini Solos:

7th: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Junior Solos:

5th: Sara Von Rotz (Absolute Final Goodbye)

10th: Leilani Lawlor (Cold Hearted Snake)

Teen Solos:

2nd: Gracyn French (Paul Is Dying)

5th: Richie Granese (Black Sea)

7th: Brooklyn Ladia (Sing It Back)

Didn't Place: Stella Eberts (Nebula)

Senior Solos:

2nd: Sammi Chung (The Silent Word)

24Seven Provo (January 18-20, 2024)

Teen Solos:

5th: Brooklyn Ladia (Sing It Back)

NYCDA Vancouver (January 19-21, 2024)

Junior Solos:

16th: Sara Von Rotz (Light Surrounds)

Nuvo Los Angeles (January 19-21, 2024)

Junior Solos:

4th: Leilani Lawlor (Taking Note)

5th: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

7th: Kira Lieberman (Awakening)

9th: Bristyn Scifres (Perderse)

Teen Solos:

2nd: Brielle Lieberman (Going Under)

3rd: Gracyn French (Pale Blue Sun)

4th: Ally Choi (Let's Fall)

7th: Richie Granese (The Way You Take Up Space)

Didn't Place: Brooklyn Lieberman (More Than One Time)

Senior Solos:

7th: Lexi Blanchard (Catching Smoke)

Nuvo Santa Clara (February 9-11, 2024)

Mini Solos:

1st: Aliya Yen (Before It Ends)

3rd: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Junior Solos:

3rd: Sara Von Rotz (Light Surrounds)

4th: Regan Gerena (Heartburn)

Teen Solos:

3rd: Gracyn French (Pale Blue Sun)

5th: Stella Eberts (Nothing More Simple)

7th: Makeila Bartlett (Liquid Slow)

7th: Richie Granese (The Way You Take Up Space)

10th: Lilly Barajas (Falling Inwards)

10th: Brielle Lieberman (Going Under)

Senior Solos:

4th: Loila Rhee (Rework)

6th: Kami Couch (Volant)

6th: Sammi Chung (In One Ear)

8th: Avery Reyes (Tell Me Why)

10th: Katie Couch (Winding And Unwinding)

Didn't Place: Kenzie Couch (Siren)

Didn't Place: Lexi Blanchard (Fame)

KAR Redondo Beach (February 16-18, 2024)

Top Elite Solo 9-11:

4th: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Top Elite Solo 12-14:

2nd: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

Elite Miss Junior Dance:

2nd Runner-Up: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Elite Miss Teen Dance:

1st: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

Other:

Cece Chung: Elite Solo NYC All Stars, Elite Solo HDE All Stars

Chloe Mirabal: Elite Solo NYC All Stars, Elite Solo HDE All Stars

Seven Detroit (February 16-18, 2024)

Senior Solos:

5th: Kami Couch (Volant)

5th: Katie Couch (Winding And Unwinding)

6th: Kenzie Couch (Siren)

NYCDA Las Vegas (February 23-25, 2024)

Teen Solos:

15th: Ally Choi (Let's Fall)

YAGP San Diego (February)

Pre-Competitive, Contemporary

Didn't Place (Higher): Aliya Yen (Before It Ends)

Pre-Competitive, Classical

Top 12: Aliya Yen (Kitri Act III Don Quixote)

Top 12: Aliya Yen (Graduation Ball)

NYCDA Santa Clara (March 1-3, 2024)

Mini Solos:

3rd: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Junior Solos:

2nd: Ellie Anbarden (Somebody Help Me)

3rd: Bristyn Scifres (It Cannot Be)

4th: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

10th: Kira Lieberman (Awakening)

13th: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

Teen Solos:

3rd: Gracyn French (Paul Is Dying)

6th: Stella Eberts (Nothing More Simple)

14th: Airi Dela Ccruz (To Build A Home)

17th: Makeila Bartlett (Red Shadow)

19th: Dillon Barron (Beneath The Surface)

Senior Solos:

3rd: Sammi Chung (In One Ear)

4th: Kami Couch (Volant)

7th: Loila Rhee (Rework)

9th: Lexi Blanchard (Fame)

11th: Katie Couch (Winding And Unwinding)

15th: Kenzie Couch (Siren)

Radix Dallas (March 8-10, 2024)

Junior Solos:

3rd: Leilani Lawlor (Taking Note)

4th: Regan Gerena (Heartburn)

Teen Solos:

3rd: Stella Eberts (Nothing More Simple)

NYCDA Tulsa (March 8-10, 2024)

Teen Solos:

14th: Richie Granese (Black Sea)

Adrenaline Los Angeles (March 8-10, 2024)

Mini Solos:

3rd: Cece Chung (Move)

24Seven Anaheim (March 22-24, 2024)

Mini Solos:

1st: Aliya Yen (Mink, Schmink)

Junior Solos:

1st: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

1st: Sara Von Rotz (Champagne Taste)

1st: Ellie Anbarden (Somebody Help Me)

3rd: Bristyn Scifres (It Cannot Be)

3rd Regan Gerena (Heartburn)

Teen Solos

3rd: Gracyn French (El Tango De Roxanne)

4th: Richie Granese (Black Sea)

4th: Stella Eberts (Nothing More Simple)

10th: Leighton Werner (Back To Black)

Senior Solos:

3rd: Avery Reyes (Tell Me Why)

5th: Lexie Blanchard (Fame)

5th: Sammi Chung (In One Ear)

6th: Katie Couch (Winding And Unwinding)

6th: Kami Couch (Volant)

7th: Loila Rhee (Rework)

7th: Kenzie Couch (Siren)

Ultra Mesa (April 5-7, 2024)

Top Ultra Competitive 12-14 Solos:

9th: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

24Seven Bellevue (April 5-7, 2024)

Mini Solos:

7th: Delaney Anbarden (Hollyrock)

Junior Solos:

4th: Leilani Lawlor (Taking Note)

Showcase Only Solo: Sara Von Rotz (Champagne Taste)

Showcase Only Solo: Ellie Anbarden (Somebody Help Me)

24Seven Glendale (April 19-21, 2024)

Mini Solos:

6th: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Junior Solos:

1st: Bristyn Scifres (It Cannot Be)

2nd: Leilani Lawlor (Take Note)

6th: Regan Gerena (Over The Rainbow)

7th: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

Teen Solos:

1st: Richie Granese (Nothing More Simple)

2nd: Brooklyn Ladia (The Middle Is The End)

2nd: Gracyn French (El Tango De Roxanne)

2nd: Stella Eberts (Nothing More Simple)

6th: Dillon Barron (Beneath The Surface)

Senior Solos:

2nd: Lexi Blanchard (Clay Pigeons)

3rd: Kami Couch (Volant)

3rd: Katie Couch (Winding And Unwinding)

4th: Loila Rhee (Rework)

4th: Kenzie Couch (Siren)

5th: Sammi Chung (The Silent Word)

5th: Avery Reyes (I Dare You)

Nuvo Westminster (April 26-28, 2024)

Junior Solos:

Didn't Place: Kira Lieberman (Awakening)

Teen Solos:

Brielle Lieberman (Going Under)

24Seven Houston (April 26-28, 2024)

Junior Solos:

1st: Leilani Lawlor (Taking Note)

NYCDA Provo (April 25-27, 2024)

Junior Solos:

8th: Sara Von Rotz (Champagne Taste)

NYCDA Lake Geneva (April 26-28, 2024)

Teen Solos:

4th: Ally Choi (Echo)

Nuvo Provo (May 2-4, 2024)

Junior Solos:

4th: Ellie Anbarden (Somebody Help Me)

9th: Leilani Lawlor (Taking Note)

24Seven Dallas (May 3-5, 2024)

Senior Solos:

6th: Lexi Blanchard (Clay Pigeons)

KAR Exclusive Long Beach (May 4-5, 2024)

Miss Elite Teen Dance

2nd Runner-Up: Leighton Werner (Back To Black)

Jump Honolulu (May 10-12, 2024)

Junior Solos:

2nd: Bristyn Scifres (It Cannot Be)

2nd: Leilani Lawlor (Taking Note)

3rd: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

5th: Kira Lieberman (Awakening)

6th: Sara Von Rotz (Champagne Taste)

Teen Solos:

1st: Richie Granese (Black See)

5th: Lilly Barajas (All I Wanted)

6th: Makeila Bartlett (Red Shadow)

6th: Dillon Barron (Beneath The Surface)

6th: Ally Choi (Let's Fall)

NYCDA Phoenix (May 10-12, 2024)

Mini Solos:

2nd: Aliya Yen (Before It Ends)

Junior Solos:

4th: Regan Gerena

Teen Solos:

2nd: Brooklyn Ladia (The Middle Is The End)

14th: Leighton Werner (Back To Black)

NYCDA Meadowlands (May 10-12, 2024)

Mini Solos:

didn't place: Olivia Armstrong (About That Walk)

Radix Portland (May 10-12, 2024)

Junior Solos:

2nd: Chloe Mirabal (Woman)

24Seven Orlando (May 10-12, 2024)

Teen Solos:

didn't place: Stella Eberts (Nothing More Simple)

KAR Long Beach (May 17-19, 2024)

Top Elite Solo 12-14

1st: Airi Dela Cruz (To Build A Home)

Other:

Airi Dela Cruz: Elite Ultimate Performance, Elite Solo HDE All Stars

Nuvo Phoenix (May 17-19, 2024)

Junior Solos:

3rd: Bristyn Scifres (It Cannot Be)

6th: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

Teen Solos:

5th: Gracyn French (Paul Is Dying)

Gravit8 Orange County (May 30-June 2, 2024)

Elite Teen Solos:

2nd: Sara Von Rotz (The Calling)

KAR Riverside (May 31-June 2, 2024)

Top Elite Solo 12-14

2nd: Ally Choi (Let's Fall)

Top Elite Solo 15-19:

1st: Gracyn French (El Tango De Roxanne)

Placed with other solo: Gracyn French (Paul Is Dying)

Placed with other solo: Gracyn French (Pale Blue Sun)

Elite Miss Teen Dance

1st Runner-Up: Ally Choi (Let's Fall)

Elite Miss Dance

1st: Gracyn French (El Tango De Roxanne)

Other:

Gracyn French: Elite Solo HDE All Stars, Elite Ultimate Performance

Ally Choi: Elite Solo HDE All Stars, Elite Ultimate Performance

Ultra Ontario (June 6-9, 2024)

Top Ultra Competitive Solo 12-14

4th: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

19th: Bristyn Scifres (It Cannot Be)

Ultra Competitive Teen Icon of the Year

Finalist: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

Starbound Upland (June 7-9, 2024)

Junior Elite Solos:

1st: Aliya Yen (Before It Ends)

2nd: Aliya Yen (Mink, Schmink)

KAR Nationals Las Vegas (June 30-July 7, 2024)

Top Elite Solo 15-19:

3rd: Gracyn French (Chemtrails Over The Country Club)

Other:

Gracyn French: Elite Ultimate Performance

TDA Orlando (July 6-13, 2024)

Mini Female BDs:

Top 10: Aliya Yen (Before It Ends)

Didn't Place: Cece Chung (Copacobana)

Junior Finals Solos:

4th: Regan Gerena (The Hollows)

Junior Female BDs:

Winner: Regan Gerena (That's Life)

Top 10: Berkeley Scifres (Cornet Man)

Top 10: Bristyn Scifres (It Cannot Be)

Top 10: Sara Von Rotz (Champagne Taste)

Didn't Place: Olivia Armstrong (When I Go)

Didn't Place: Leilani Lawlor (Taking Note)

Didn't Place: Kira Lieberman (Awakening)

Teen Finals Solos:

1st: Gracyn French (El Tango De Roxanne)

Didn't Place: Brooklyn Ladia (Sing It Back)

Didn't Place: Leighton Werner (Drag Me Down)

Didn't Place: Lilly Barajas (All I Wanted)

Didn't Place: Stella Eberts (Bloom)

Didn't Place: Brielle Lieberman (Happiness)

Teen Female BDs:

2nd Runner-Up: Gracyn French (Chemtrails Over The Country Club)

Top 20: Brooklyn Ladia (The Middle Is The End)

Didn't Place: Leighton Werner (Back To Black)

Didn't Place: Lilly Barajas (Falling Inwards)

Didn't Place: Stella Eberts (Nothing More Simple)

Didn't Place: Brielle Lieberman (Going Under)

Senior Finals Solos:

Didn't Place: Sammi Chung (In One Ear)

Didn't Place: Lexi Blanchard (Fame)

Senior Female BDs:

Top 10: Sammi Chung (The Silent Word)

Top 20: Lexi Blanchard (Clay Pigeons)

Scholarships:

Non-Stop Dancer Winners (24Seven):

Aliya Yen (Mini): San Diego

Ellie Anbarden (Junior): Anaheim

Regan Gerena (Junior): San Diego)

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Anaheim

Savanna Musman (Junior): Anaheim

Madelyn Nasu (Junior): Glendale

Bristyn Scifres (Junior): San Diego

Berkeley Scifres (Junior): San Diego

Sara Von Rotz (Junior): San Diego

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Glendale

Dillon Barron (Teen): Glendale

Ally Choi (Teen): Glendale

Stella Eberts (Teen): San Diego

Gracyn French (Teen): San Diego

Richie Granese (Teen): Glendale

Mady Kim (Teen): Anaheim

Brooklyn Ladia (Teen): San Diego

Leighton Werner (Teen): Anaheim

Lexi Blanchard (Senior): Glendale

Katie Couch (Senior): Anaheim

Kami Couch (Senior): Anaheim

Kenzie Couch (Senior): Detroit

Avery Reyes (Senior): Anaheim

Non-Stop Dancer Runner-Ups (24Seven):

Delaney Anbarden (Mini): Anaheim, Bellevue, Glendale

Cece Chung (Mini): San Diego, Anaheim, Glendale

Ellie Anbarden (Junior): San Diego

Olivia Armstrong (Junior): Anaheim

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): San Diego

Kira Lieberman (Junior): San Diego, Glendale

Chloe Mirabal (Junior): San Diego, Anaheim, Glendale

Madelyn Nasu (Junior): San Diego, Anaheim

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Anaheim

Dillon Barron (Teen): San Diego, Anaheim

Makeila Bartlett (Teen): Anaheim, Glendale

Ally Choi (Teen): San Diego, Anaheim

Airi Dela Cruz (Teen): Anaheim, Glendale

Richie Granese (Teen): San Diego, Anaheim

Brielle Lieberman (Teen): San Diego

Brooklyn Lieberman (Teen): San Diego, Anaheim, Glendale

Lexi Blanchard (Senior): Anaheim

Sammi Chung (Senior): San Diego

Katie Couch (Senior): Detroit

Kami Couch (Senior): Detroit

Loila Rhee (Senior): Anaheim, Glendale

High Five in Jazz (24Seven):

Lilly Barajas (Teen): San Diego

Brielle Lieberman (Teen): Anaheim, Glendale

Brooklyn Safford (Teen): Anaheim

High Five in Hip-Hop (24Seven):

Cali Cassidy (Teen): Anaheim

High Five in Ballroom (24Seven):

Olivia Armstrong (Junior): Glendale

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Bellevue

Jump VIPs (Jump):

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Honolulu

Berkeley Scifres (Junior): Las Vegas

Bristyn Scifres (Junior): Las Vegas

Sara Von Rotz (Junior): Honolulu

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Honolulu

Gracyn French (Teen): Las Vegas

Lexi Blanchard (Senior): Las Vegas

Jump VIP Runner-Ups (Jump):

Cece Chung (Mini): Las Vegas

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Las Vegas

Kira Lieberman (Junior): Honolulu

Chloe Mirabal (Junior): Las Vegas

Madelyn Nasu (Junior): Las Vegas

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Las Vegas

Dillon Barron (Teen): Honolulu

Makeila Bartlett (Teen): Honolulu

Ally Choi (Teen): Las Vegas, Honolulu

Stella Eberts (Teen): Las Vegas

Richie Granese (Teen): Las Vegas, Honolulu

Sammi Chung (Senior): Las Vegas

Avery Reyes (Senior): Las Vegas

BreakOut Artists (Nuvo):

Aliya Yen (Mini): Santa Clara

Ellie Anbarden (Junior): Provo

Regan Gerena (Junior): Santa Clara

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Santa Clara

Kira Lieberman (Junior): Santa Clara

Chloe Mirabal (Junior): Santa Clara

Bristyn Scifres (Junior): Meadowlands

Berkeley Scifres (Junior): Meadowlands

Sara Von Rotz (Junior): Santa Clara

Stella Eberts (Teen): Santa Clara

Gracyn French (Teen): Los Angeles

Brielle Lieberman (Teen): Westminster

Lexi Blanchard (Senior): Los Angeles

Kami Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Avery Reyes (Senior): Santa Clara

BreakOut Artist Runner-Ups (Nuvo):

Delaney Anbarden (Mini): Santa Clara

Ellie Anbarden (Junior): Santa Clara

Olivia Armstrong (Junior): Santa Clara

Regan Gerena (Junior): Los Angeles

Savanna Musman (Junior): Los Angeles, Santa Clara

Madelyn Nasu (Junior): Santa Clara

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Los Angeles

Dillon Barron (Teen): Santa Clara

Makeila Bartlett (Teen): Santa Clara

Ally Choi (Teen): Los Angeles, Santa Clara

Airi Dela Cruz (Teen): Santa Clara

Stella Eberts (Teen): Los Angeles

Richie Granese (Teen): Los Angeles, Santa Clara

Mady Kim (Teen): Santa Clara

Brooklyn Ladia (Teen): Santa Clara

Brooklyn Lieberman (Teen): Santa Clara

Brielle Lieberman (Teen): Los Angeles, Santa Clara

Brooklyn Safford (Teen): Santa Clara

Sammi Chung (Senior): Santa Clara

Kenzie Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Katie Couch (Senior): Tulsa, Santa Clara

Kami Couch (Senior): Tulsa

Loila Rhee (Senior): Santa Clara

StandOut in Jazz & Contemporary (Nuvo):

Cece Chung (Mini): Santa Clara

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Santa Clara

Dillon Barron (Teen): Los Angeles

Kira Lieberman (Teen): Los Angeles

StandOut in Ballet (Nuvo):

Brooklyn Lieberman (Teen): Los Angeles

StandOut in Hip-Hop (Nuvo):

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Los Angeles

Kira Lieberman (Junior): Westminster

Die Hard Dancer (Nuvo):

Cece Chung (Mini): Santa Clara

Protégés (Radix):

Regan Gerena (Junior): Anaheim

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Dallas

Sara Von Rotz (Junior): Anaheim

Gracyn French (Teen): Anaheim

Richie Granese (Teen): Anaheim

Protègè Runner-Ups (Radix):

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Anaheim

Chloe Mirabal (Junior): Portland

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Anaheim

Ally Choi (Teen): Anaheim

Stella Eberts (Teen): Anaheim, Dallas

Brooklyn Ladia (Teen): Anaheim

Outstanding Dancers (NYCDA):

Aliya Yen (Mini): Santa Clara

Outstanding Dancer Runner-Ups (NYCDA):

Cece Chung (Mini): Santa Clara

Ellie Anbarden (Junior): Santa Clara

Regan Gerena (Junior): Santa Clara

Leilani Lawlor (Junior): Santa Clara

Kira Lieberman (Junior): Santa Clara

Chloe Mirabal (Junior): Santa Clara

Savanna Musman (Junior): Santa Clara

Berkeley Scifres (Junior): Santa Clara

Bristyn Scifres (Junior): Santa Clara

Sara Von Rotz (Junior): Vancouver

Lilly Barajas (Teen): Santa Clara

Dillon Barron (Teen): Santa Clara

Ally Choi (Teen): Las Vegas

Airi Dela Cruz (Teen): Santa Clara

Stella Eberts (Teen): Santa Clara

Gracyn French (Teen): Santa Clara

Richie Granese (Teen): Santa Clara

Brooklyn Ladia (Teen): Santa Clara

Lexi Blanchard (Senior): Santa Clara

Sammi Chung (Senior): Santa Clara

Kami Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Katie Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Kenzie Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Avery Reyes (Senior): Santa Clara

Hip-Hop Scholarship (NYCDA):

Regan Gerena (Junior): Santa Clara

Savanna Musman (Junior): Santa Clara

Sara Von Rotz (Junior): Santa Clara

Kami Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Tap Scholarship (NYCDA):

Bristyn Scifres (Junior): Santa Clara

Winter Contemporary Intensive Award (NYCDA):

Kami Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Katie Couch (Senior): Santa Clara

Steps Summer Study NYC Intensive Scholarship (NYCDA):

Sammi Chung (Senior): Santa Clara

Avery Reyes (Senior): Santa Clara

Steps Academy Program Summer Intensive Scholarship (NYCDA):

Regan Gerena (Junior): Santa Clara

Chloe Mirabal (Junior): Santa Clara

Berkeley Scifres (Junior): Santa Clara

Sara Von Rotz (Junior): Santa Clara

Ally Choi (Teen): Santa Clara

Gracyn French (Teen): Santa Clara

Ballet Hispanico ChoreoLaB Scholarship (NYCDA):

Avery Reyes (Senior): Santa Clara

Intensive Standout Award (NYCDA):

Makeila Bartlett (Teen): Santa Clara

Brooklyn Lieberman (Teen): Santa Clara

Leighton Werner (Teen): Santa Clara

Rising Star (NYCDA):

Richie Granese (Teen): Tulsa

Hubbard Street Dance Chicago Teen Summer Intensive (NYCDA):

Richie Granese (Teen): Tulsa

Peridance Global Summer Dance Intensive Scholarship (NYCDA):

Richie Granese (Teen): Tulsa

Ultra Solo/Duet/Trio Scholarship (KAR):

Airi Dela Cruz (12-14): Long Beach

Gracyn French (15-19): Riverside

[thesapphireprincess]

Software Engineer 👩🏾‍💻

I recently learned that you can become a Software engineer without a degree. I found a free Introduction to software engineering course on YouTube. It was created by a computer science professor and he goes over everything that a beginner needs to know and what is learned in a full semester. I also found these free Harvard courses and after you complete them you can purchase a verified certificate. The certificate will look so good an a resume and it will show that you know the material.

💌 Being a Software Engineer isn’t the only option for a high paying job without a degree. This is just the one I am choosing.

There are so many resources online but after this I will most likely enroll into a software engineering boot camp since this is what most people do. I found that there are a lot of software engineers who do not have a degree but are still making a ton of money because the work is so valuable. I learned that you can get almost any 6 figure high paying job without a degree except in the medical field. This job will not be replaced by AI which is a relief.

The starting salary for an entry level position is around 70-80k in the United States as of June 2023. Even 60k would be great but there are people making 100-250k a year as a software engineer. The people who work at the big companies make even more than that.

This is a great way to set up your financial future. Imagine being able to save $1000-$2000 a month. Imagine where you’ll be at in 10 years. You can even use this as a starting base to set your life up financially. You’ll be able to afford to live anywhere in the world especially if you get a remote job. Places like San Diego, New York, London or Hawaii. You can afford the cost of living. You can afford to live in any of the major cities and have a really comfortable life. You will have lots of money that you’ll be able to multiply. You’ll actually be able to save up for a house and have actual money to invest. So many opportunities will be available to you. You can live below your means in the best way possible.

Personally I’ve always wanted to live by the beach in a city. By this time next year I’ll be living in a new city with a great high paying job. My current job will look amazing on my resume because I work side by side with engineers and technicians on a daily basis at a reputable company so I can totally jazz up my resume to sound really good. Which totally counts as ✨experience✨. I’ve been working here for a couple of years now which will look even better because it shows longevity.

I definitely plan on moving to San Diego or Hawaii next year when my lease is up. I will update y’all in a week on my progress.

[mikeywayarchive]

Instagram story by kristincolby

[Jul 21, 2023]

[tenshunnoise]

Free Jazz Scratch Noise.

More experiments in scratching communication with synths

[demifiendrsa]

Adult Swim has greenlit “Lazarus,” a new Toonami series from renowned anime director Shinichirō Watanabe, known for his work helming episodes of “Cowboy Bebop,” “Samurai Champloo” and “Kids on the Slope.”

Produced by anime studio MAPPA, “Lazarus” also recruits the contributions of “John Wick” series director Chad Stahelski, who designed several action sequences for the series, along with the musical talents of saxophonist Kamasi Washington; producer, DJ and musician Floating Points; and producer, DJ and musician Bonobo. The trio will provide a jazz and electronic score for the project.

Watanabe will pull the curtain back on the series at the Adult Swim Festival in San Diego on July 22, 2023 at 5:15 p.m., as part of the Comic-Con event Toonami on the Green.

“Lazarus,” which is already in production, takes place in 2052. The series follows a Nobel Prize-winning neuroscientist that develops a drug called Hapuna — a cure-all that has the unexpected side-effect of causing death three years later. A special force of agents is assembled to take on the malevolent Skinner.

“As I embark on this creative journey, I can’t help but feel that this project will serve as a culmination of my career so far,” said Watanabe in a statement accompanying the announcement. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Shinichirō Watanabe is simply one of the greatest living artists, and it’s a dream come true to be able to collaborate with him on a new original series,” said Jason DeMarco, SVP and head of anime and action series at Adult Swim. “Like all of his work, ‘Lazarus’ is packed with big ideas, incredible characters and a ton of heart. We can’t wait for anime fans to see this world.”

[artisticlegshake]

THE DANCE AWARDS LAS VEGAS 2024

HIGH SCORE BY PERFORMANCE DIVISION (TEEN SMALL GROUPS)

BALLET:

1st Redemption - THE ROCK

2nd O Fortuna - DC2

3rd There, There - THE COLONY 

4th Outer Peace - BOBBIE’S

CONTEMPORARY:

1st Let’s Play Pretend - KIM MASSAY 

2nd Manuscript - WOODBURY 

3rd Lay Your Ear - LARKIN 

4th Immoral Act - ARTISTIC FUSION

5th Nana - KIM MASSAY

5th Black Bird - KIM MASSAY 

LYRICAL:

1st The Twelfth Of Never - MLDA 

2nd Eyes Shut - ARTISTIC DANCE PROJECT  

3rd Gospel - LARKIN

3rd Not Ready To Die Yet - THE DANCE KOLLECTIVE 

4th Heaven - DC2 

5th Proserpina - THE COLONY

JAZZ:

1st Short Skirt Long Jacket - CSPAS

2nd Heartbreaker - KIM MASSAY

3rd Hot - DC2

4th Pump - EXPRESSENZ

5th Woman - LARKIN

TAP:

1st Love Me Or Leave Me - WOODBURY 

2nd Take 5 - THE DYNAMIC 

3rd 76 - THE DANCE KOLLECTIVE 

4th Papa’s Groove - ARTISTIC FUSION

5th Stairway To Heaven - PRODIGY 

MUSICAL THEATRE:

1st I Hope I Get It - LEVEL 

2nd 20th Century Fox Mambo - SAN DIEGO 

HIP HOP:

1st MINI CEEJAY - CLASS JAZZ 

2nd Va Va Boom - OHANA 

BALLROOM:

1st Tukah Toh - STUDIO 49 

SPECIALTY:

1st No Roots - MLDA

2nd Hair Cut - ARTISTIC FUSION

3rd Kashmir - ARTISTIC DANCE PROJECT 

4th Big Yellow Taxi - THE DANCE KOLLECTIVE 

5th Hypnosis - LEGACY 

[angelslant]

feeling very paralyzed over this semester...I'm taking one of the hardest course loads I've had yet + my depression has turned clinical in that it seems to be ever-present these days, which makes it extremely hard for me to do my schoolwork because I can't muster up the energy for it. Also I'm getting a major surgery right in the middle of midterms and only some of my teachers seem to understand that I can't jump right back into a busy schedule after getting chopped open multiple times. I'm the only one of my friends still left in college so I don't have any support system in terms of studying or shared experience anymore...the farther I get into college the less it feels like I know what I actually want to do with my life. In a lot of ways I regret even getting a degree, let alone going for two at once. I feel constantly overstimulated with my environment and the city while also feeling very intellectually understimulated. I feel like I never get wow'ed anymore because I have to digest everything so quickly to spit it back out into an essay or exam. Even with a semester stacked with some of my favorite topics like jazz + rococo art + vesselmaking I feel paralyzed into inaction by the concept of taking on more of a mental load, because I am so overwhelmed already. I feel like something changed in san diego and forgot to change back once i got back to the midwest tbh