#there’s no feeling quite like being surrounded by a group of folks dancing and singing their hearts out to some sweet soca music

[daddy-long-legssss]

i don’t know if any of the moots listen to soca or know the genre but a major artist in the industry was on npr’s tiny desk a few days ago. machel montano is the *first* soca artist to ever be featured on tiny desk so it’s a HUGE moment for genre and for all artists in the caribbean to get this level of recognition.

[itstokkii]

aph korea + kimchiburger hcs because i will explode if i continue to keep them to myself

this is a lot. like, a lot. CW: war, colonization

america is the type of boyfriend to shake korea in the middle of the night and ask “if i was a worm would you still love me”

south and north korea are twins, north korea being the older one. NK’s strong spot is singing and SK’s is playing instruments, so during the joseon era NK would be singing folk songs while SK plays the haegeum, gayageum, or daegeum. later, SK learned dance with the rise of kpop, and can dance very well, on par with many 3rd and 4th generation groups

going off of the kpop headcanon, SK definitely has a tiktok and instagram account where SK dances to a kpop song with one of the members. goes to every MAMA and MMA and cheers for everyone. maybe interviews/has podcasts with some kpop idols on a youtube channel or something

america’s favorite soloist is IU. one day, korea takes him to IU to meet her at a fan signing, and america is this close to screeching out of excitement. his voice is shaky. when IU posts the picture she took with america on instagram, he gets the tag notification, throws his phone across the room, and rolls around on his bed screaming

korea has 3?4? houses. there’s 2 in seoul, with one being the hanok(traditional korean house) SK and NK lived in during the joseon dynasty after moving out of the royal palace, and one being a luxury apartment with a view overlooking the namsan seoul tower. then there’s one in busan, and a pension in jeju.

during the japanese occupation of korea, SK and NK tried to show their resistance in many ways, from placing the mugunghwa(national flower of korea) around their hanok instead of the crystanthemum of japan, to even joining the march 1919 demonstrations

after the korean war, SK would overwork and give all strength to help the citizens of korea, regardless of food or sleep. while helping rebuild the country, SK notices that even though other buildings surrounding it were destroyed to some degree, the hanok SK and NK used to live in remained completely untouched.

in 1883, the first korean diplomats went to america, getting to see san francisco and new york. korea was quite underdeveloped at the time and was an agrarian country, so electricity was very new to them, with none of the delegates able to completely understand what it was due to its versatility. one of the delegates described riding a train in his diary: “the speed of trains are such that they made me feel as if I was flying up through the clouds.” they were also panicked as they rode an elevator, worrying there was an earthquake. it’s fun to imagine that NK and SK went to america as well, and experienced these things too. 

SK would definitely get along with france and canada

france bc they’re both interested in fashion(especially with the current rise of kfashion) and kbeauty). SK always gives france skincare tips and takes him to IOPE lab in Myeongdong so france can get custom skincare products. once SK had france try ddung-caron(means fat macaron in korean), and then watches france struggle as he figures out how to eat it, before going full on gastronomist and analyzes the macaron. when france heard about korea’s crush on america, it was over for korea. france wanted to give “advice” after a world conference, and it resulted in korea having a windows error type breakdown with a completely red face, unsure if korea will ever be able to look america in the eyes again as korea keeps note that france has no filter oh my god

america: why’s your face red

korea: your father 

america: ...

america: what did he say

canada bc historically, canada was the first to teach korea english. due to earlier interaction than with america, canada is slightly more fluent. they also played a big role in the korean war. going off of someone’s hc i saw on tumblr, they would definitely make fusion food together, like hotteok(traditional korean pancake filled with honey or sugar) with maple syrup. they also worked on goblin(the k-drama) together and canada enjoyed that more people, especially koreans, flocked to quebec after watching goblin. also canada would definitely be like the middleman when america and korea are still pining for each other. at a time where america still didn’t know much korean, he would ask canada what a word meant. korea would go to canada and ask about american culture before going to america to stay there for a while

SK would also get along(though would get overwhelmed at times) with turkey. turkey and korea, especially in the 2010s, have a strong relationship. there’s a turkish culture center in korea. most recently, one of korea’s famous chefs went to turkey to try a dessert called kaymak, and after that many koreans flocked to the turkish center or even traveled to turkey to try kaymak. turkey would definitely slap korea on the back unexpectedly as a greeting.

korea can be many things, like being immature by going along with america’s antics a lot, but not stupid. korea can be very mature at times, and comfort america with words of advice based on experiences from the joseon dynasty, and america suddenly remembers “dang.... i forgot korea’s a lot older than me.” korea isn’t afraid to catch up with the times and incorporate korean culture into modern elements:

there’s a starbucks and baskin robbins that was built as a hanok, with the starbucks one actually being a 100-year old hanok that was revamped to become a cafe

kpop also began to embrace the korean culture, especially in agust d’s daechwita and stray kids’ thunderous.

korea’s also proud of the film industry, especially with parasite and squid game, with how the country’s faults and flaws are shown to a foreign audience, but not completely deterring them from appreciating the country, as well as the promotion of culture, especially in squid game. america kept talking about squid game for like, 4 months afterwards, to the point where korea got a little annoyed after a while. once america called dalgona(candy made with sugar and baking soda) a “cookie,” korea was so close to buying a ticket to nyc and giving him a lecture on dalgona

whatever trend the country embraces, korea does, too. last summer in 2021, there was a big mint choco trend. cafes immediately put mint choco drinks on their menus, snack companies started making mint choco flavors, and even KFC sold mint choco dipping sauce. there was a split opinion, with about 40% saying mint choco sucks and tastes like toothpaste, and 60% being part of the mint choco fanbase. when you’re a fan in korea, you go all out. 

korea’s alcohol tolerance? it’s there, but korea’s only about 4 small shots of soju(korean alcohol) away from switching off for the rest of the day. this is a problem, especially with the hwaeshik(means company dinner in korean). usually in hwaeshik, bosses invite employees to a dinner at a restaurant. due to the harsh work culture, it’s important to go. usually, people drink alcohol with the dinner to relax more, and the boss keeps insisting to drink more. so korea leaves the restaurant absolutely conked out. america notices this, so whenever he knows korea has a hwaeshik, he waits outside to carry korea back home.

korea also has to teach america that couple names aren’t thrown around all the time, with oppa(korean girls use this towards older brothers, older male peers, older boyfriends) being an exception. america called korea nae sarang(my love) one(1) time, and korea overheated and couldn’t respond for about ten minutes.

korea pleads america to go and rent some hanbok(korean traditional clothing) together. “we can enter the gyeongbokgung(translated as “palace greatly blessed by heaven,” located in Seoul) for free if we rent hanbok!!” actually its korea’s ulterior motive to see america in hanbok bc he would look very regal and elegant compared to his easygoing style.

this is all my 12am brain can generate right now lol, i hope this was entertaining at least

[officerjennie]

Hey Jennie!! How about 6 or 37 from the prompt list for the witcher? Have fun!! Also, I love your writing ❤️❤️❤️❤️!!!

Since you didn’t mention a ship and I’m feeling Curious about one, I’m going with 37 “Wanna dance?” with Jaskier/Aiden :3 Hope you don’t mind the ship!

CW: Rated T. No real warnings? Some roughhousing between Lambert and Geralt. Aiden being a little shit. Lambert, too, being a little shit. Pretty tame flirting. Meet Cute Mischief. WC 2.6k+

--

It wasn’t every day that they ran into one of Geralt’s fellow witchers, let alone two.

Jaskier had watched, at first in horror, as a rather feisty fellow had hurdled himself towards Geralt and tackled him to the ground just outside of the village. They had just taken a contract over some odd noises and mysterious events surrounding an abandoned keep, one the villagers themselves had insisted on them taking despite how many times Geralt had told them he doubted it was anything - apparently it sounded much less like a monster and much more like a secret getaway for the young folk about but the innkeep had been certain something foul was afoot. 

At the very least, Jaskier thought it would make an amusing tale, already crafting lines and lyrics as Geralt tied Roach up in the stable and went off towards the keep (allowing Jaskier to tag along without complaint for once, considering it shouldn’t be dangerous).

Which is one reason Jaskier was rather startled, to put it lightly, when he was suddenly witness to one of the toughest brawls he’d ever seen Geralt take part of. Geralt had grunted and then snarled when he hit the ground, rolling and grabbing for the other man’s limbs, them both rolling while Jaskier clutched at the strap that held his lute to his back, some rather undignified squeaks escaping him while he struggled to keep up with their movements. 

But he couldn’t just stand there stalk still while his nearest and dearest friend was fighting for his life. He jerked his arm into motion, grabbing for the dagger Geralt had tried to convince him not to buy half a year ago at one of the southern markets, and managed to fight it out of its sheath and hold it at arms length, waiting for just the right moment to throw it at the accoster. 

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you, darlin’.”

He jumped and whipped around, dagger first, and the man who’d snuck up behind him didn’t quite duck in time to completely miss the blade. It cut into his cheek, a drop of blood slowly dripping down, cat eyes staring at him in a way that made him freeze.

A smirk that Jaskier really wasn’t sure was from amusement or a promise of death stretched his lips, showing off some very sharp teeth. 

“G-Geralt?”

“I’m busy, Jaskier.”

A thump from behind him allowed Jaskier to jerk his head around, seeing Geralt pining the other man face first into the dusty road - but the other man was laughing, even as Geralt’s face was twisted into a snarl, the both of them dirty and scratched up from their fight.

“Damnit, Lambert,” he gave the man another shove but then got off of him, and Jaskier almost squeaked out that that was very much not a good idea - but then Geralt was helping the man up, the anger fading from his face as he dusted some of the dirt off of him.

Dusted...the dirt off of him, yes, because that’s something completely normal for enemies to do with one another. Help clean them off. After fighting. Maybe Jaskier had never woken up that morning after all and this was just some strange dream? Would explain the way the other other man leaned forward into his face sudden, nose twitching as he sniffed, a thoughtful frown tugging his lips down as Jaskier leaned away from the invasion.

“Smell like lavender, but not the flowers. Fancy your oils, huh?”

“Do you know these men, Geralt?” He took a step back away from the one that was once again giving him that smirk, beating a hasty retreat to his friend’s side. Geralt, for his part, finally looked away from the man he’d started to exchange some pleasantries - or what counted as pleasantries for his dear witcher, which was mostly grouching - and turned to look at the other witcher.

He cocked his head, and Jaskier knew before he said anything that Geralt didn’t know that one. “Lambert, one of my brothers.” He slapped Lambert in the chest with the back of his hand, passing the hit off as handing him back the weapon he had gripped in that hand. The man - Geralt’s brother, apparently - took it and buckled it to his side, though not without shooting Geralt a shit eating grin. “The other one I don’t know.”

“Oh, I’m wounded, Lamb.” The man practically purred the words before bowing with a flourish. “Aiden, not necessarily at your service.”

“Don’t call me Lamb, kitty cat.”

“Watch who you call kitty cat, sweets.”

From the increasingly dangerous looks on the two witchers’ faces, Jaskier thought it best to interrupt them then. “Jaskier, long time sufferer of all the hmms and grunts that Geralt passes as communication - though perhaps we could save further introductions for later? We have an, ahhh, rather important contract to be getting done.”

It wasn’t a contract they ended up doing alone. Lambert and Aiden followed them with little hesitation, the promise of shared coin more than enough to garner their interest (though Aiden made a few faces at the correct of a small amount of coin). Really it wasn’t all that surprising, after all; though Geralt was a rather closed book about a lot of his personal life Jaskier had learned over the years that his brothers were very near and dear to him, and he saw them very little throughout the year - winter being the one big exception.

The two brothers spent most of the journey trading snarky remarks and the occasional shove, Geralt doing his best (and utterly failing) to seem like he wasn’t as into the roughhousing as his brother. With those two rather busy catching up it left Jaskier to follow behind them, wondering what tales those two had to share, what journeys they’d spent together, what hunts they’d conquered.

“Didn’t know what I expected,” Aiden mused, suddenly next to him, his silent steps making Jaskier jump when he finally noticed him. “But it wasn’t what I see, ya know? Big hero and all that.”

“Huh?”

“Suppose anyone could seem a hero, if the right bard sings of them.” He gave a wink, his arms crossed behind his head as he walked, the silver beads in his tight braids glittering in the sunlight. It took a moment for Jaskier to catch up with what he was saying but finally he did, turning back to look at the brothers that walked ahead of them, both looking very much like the heroes to him.

Who else would carry such broad swords so proudly on their backs, wear such armor, but the heroes? Maybe not all witchers would be quite as heroic as Geralt but Jaskier was firm in his belief that they were all capable of such, like so many of his own kind seemed to sniff at in disbelief.

“You’ve not met him before,” Jaskier said a little tightly, trying to not get too defensive of his friend. “No one looks like their proudest moments but he exemplifies them nonetheless. As much as he loves to blather on about not getting involved he puts himself right where he needs to be, even when no one would think to thank him for it.”

“No one but you.”

Jaskier blinked at that, not really sure what Aiden was on about. But he didn’t have time to ask, Geralt motioning for them to come to a halt now that they’d reached the keep, the group of them going quiet for now.

It was, as it turned out, not just a gathering place for the young folk. Aiden was the one who found the mountain lion kits and quickly shooed the rest of them away, sniffing about the rest of the place himself without their help and coming back with a shrug. Nothing but cats and ghosts.

“And not the fun kind of ghosts.” Aiden tossed a coin idly into the air, a rather dirt caked one he’d found during his scrounging. “Just old smells, tattered fabric, a faded painting or two. No monsters here, dear pups.”

“Then what about the noises?” Maybe he sounded a bit whiny but Jaskier had walked all the way here for essentially nothing if it wasn’t even a romantic getaway; his feet were tired and his muse demanded fuel.

But Aiden just flicked the coin in the air again, letting it land in his palm as he said, “Ever hear a mountain lion scream, little bird?”

He had not, and when Aiden made them stick around til he did he regretted admitting as much. Jaskier was very glad to make it back to the inn, empty handed or not.

The innkeep, however, was very reluctant to let go of any coin, even if there were now three witchers and a disgruntled bard there to stare him down. In the end Jaskier managed to convince him to part with some of what he’d promised though not all, and to make up for the rest (to keep that anger he saw flash in Lambert’s eyes at bay) he promised to perform and earn enough coin to keep the gull flowing.

It was a real shame he didn’t have any ballads yet for the other two. His performances went as well as usual, the crowd eating out of his hands, the general mood shifting from hot tension to easy fun. As the night went on he saw even the witchers easing into their corner, the innkeep pleased enough with the promised production that the gull was soon free to the three, something that brought a brilliant smile to Jaskier’s face and a new wind to his songs.

There had been a rather shy woman near the edge of the room at the start of his performance, who left sometime through but came back later in the night. In her hands was a lute of her own, and in-between a brief breather between songs she came up to him and asked, if it wasn’t a bother, if he wouldn’t mind, would it be all right if she joined in as well.

And who was he, honestly, to say no to such a quiet and hopeful request?

She was an absolute talent and Jaskier had nothing but praise for the music she weaved with her fingers. It was a bit of a fumble at first, them not knowing the same songs, eventually crafting some new ones just for this particular crowd to enjoy. Because she was so shy and hesitant Jaskier had to admit he was worried the room of rather drunken bar tenants might not take kindly to her attempts but he was pleasantly surprised, and after a time he even left it to her, bowing out to marvel at the pride and confidence that held her shoulders straight now.

There was no doubt about it, she had talent. He leaned back against a wooden pillar in the room, his breaths a little heavy from exertion, his heart light in his chest. Oh, what a time to be alive, to witness the youth come into their own.

No matter that he was still young himself. He could have wistful, old man thoughts if he liked.

“You seem to do that to people.”

“You seem to love to sneak up on others, you daft-” Jaskier cut himself off, startled into his sass and nearly falling over when he jerked away from the pillar. Aiden now leaned his shoulder into the side of it, one dark eyebrow raised, his eyes alight with amusement - which just made Jaskier wish he hadn’t stopped his sass, if he were honest.

“Startle easy, little bird?”

“What do you mean?” He ignored the second question, for now settling back into his spot, habitually checking that his lute was indeed still on the table to his right where he’d placed it a little while before.

“Bring that out in them.” Aiden nodded his head towards the woman, but his eyes didn’t leave Jaskier. “Whatever you’d call that. Confidence. Belief in their self. Their proudest moments, you have a knack for bringing those out, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” He sniffed delicately, but did add, “Though I suppose I am a rather decent influence. Hard to be around such talent and not seek it out yourself. And I do have quite the air of confidence I’ve been told.”

“And your smart, and beautiful, and have the single best taste in fashion, and are oh so modest to boot,” Aiden drawled, that dangerous smirk coming back, and this time perhaps it was the atmosphere around them - the belly laughter from the crowd, the smell of drink in the air, upbeat and cheerful music kept in time with the stomping of boots on the floor - but that smirk made Jaskier’s heart flutter dangerously in his chest.

Despite the implied insults. Or, fake compliments. Or assumed bloated sense of self that Aiden was suggestion - there were plenty of ways to take his teasing but Jaskier was certain it wasn’t meant to be harmful.

Mostly certain.

“Do you usually travel with Lambert, then?”

He wasn’t really sure what possessed him to ask that. Before he had much time to think on it he flicked his eyes away from that dangerously handsome face - handsome face? - and focused instead on his newest pupil, who had taken a request for a dance piece that was apparently popular in the area. A few in the crowd started to push some tables aside drunkenly, saved by the few sensible not drunk patrons, and soon her fingers were plucking away and the place became twice as lively as it had before.

“Yes, I do, little bird.” Jaskier dared to glance over at him, able at least to not get distracted by the beads in his braids, now nearest to the side Aiden kept shaved. “Lamb and I have been through quite a lot over the years. He’s got my back and I’ve got his, no matter the circumstance.” Something dangerous flashed in his eyes but it was gone when Jaskier blinked next, cat eyes focusing on him again instead of off into the distance on memories he had no knowledge of. Yet. “He is my friend, and I don’t say that word lightly.”

“I’m telling him you said that.”

“The bird threatens the cat now?”

“Oh are we speaking in third person now?”

He really wasn’t sure what had come over him, but something about Aiden - something about that look in his eyes, how the gold in his eyes seemed to glow against his dark skin, how the even darker freckles dusted his cheeks beckoned his fingers to brush against them-

There was just something about him that drew Jaskier in.

Aiden cocked his head, studying him, and for just a moment Jaskier felt very much like the birds he loved to compare him to, trapped in a cat’s gaze. But it wasn’t fear that made him lean forward just so, towards the man he’s amazed he’d never even met before halfway through that day. 

And then Aiden’s gaze softened, just for a moment, and he said so softly that Jaskier could have been entirely mistaken that he heard it at all: “You’ll do.”

Before he could ask him to repeat himself, the softness was gone, replaced with a mischievous grin that looked like it belonged on those full lips. “Music’s picking up, little bird. Care to dance?” And before Jaskier had even registered he’d said yes he found his hand snatched up lightning fast, whirled into the crowd of men and women and others who remained faceless to him - because the only face his eyes could see was the one with that sharp grin with teeth, owned by the man who danced with cat like grace and a body that was deceptively lithe, whose eyes never once left him in turn.

[paracosmists]

Six Simple Tips For a Healthier Life

Are you looking for simple ways to get you from where you are now to where you need to be? Maybe you feel that you could do better than your current situation.

You're not alone. Most, if not all people have at least one of the following aims:-

To be joyful, to be healthy, to look beautiful, to be slim, to be healthy, to stay young, to succeed.

The following tips may help get you from where you are to where you want to be. They will however, be of no use until you need to change. You will need the desire to create that shift. It's of enormous help if you can imagine yourself in that better position.

After you can imagine how that better position will feel you'll find the motivation to take actions .

If you can turn off the TV and get up of the sofa it is time for;

TIP #1: START MOVING. Get up and go outside. Then walk into another corner and back. That's it. You've made a start on improving your own life. Try and walk daily or at least three times per week to start. Walk a bit further every time, but do not overdo it. If the furthest that you've been used to walking would be to your vehicle and back then you might find stiffness in your calf muscles initially. This will pass as your body becomes used to the new expectations. In addition to increasing the distance and for that reason the time that you're walking, endeavour to walk more briskly. Walking faster will, initially, make you somewhat breathless. Don't over exert yourself. Finding a little breathless will indicate that your heart is beating a little faster and that you're building your cardiovascular endurance. Your heart is a really important muscle and giving it some mild exercise is no bad thing, especially when connected to increasing your lung capacity.

TIP #2: STRETCH. You might have seen professional athletes stretching before doing or when heating up. Your stretching isn't in readiness for your entrance to the Olympic Games but,it's just as important. You need to stretch before and after your walks. Inactive individuals have tight hamstring and chest muscles due to prolonged sitting, so it should be your priority to stretch these muscles out. In addition to helping build and protect these muscles you'll also find a remarkable improvement in your posture. Long periods of sitting or childbirth or of slouching can mess up your posture and make you look old before your time.

TIP #3: IMPROVE YOUR DIET. Watch what you eat. No more fast food. What's in that stuff anyway? If you do not know what is in it why are you putting it in your mouth? Here is a little test for you. Go into a grocery store and get a ready meal. Look on the back and see the listing of components. For a start the quantity of sugar and salt in that 1 packet will likely be greater than the recommended intake for a week. Then what about that list of unpronounceable ingredients? How many of them do you understand? How many can you pronounce? I'm not a gambler but I'd bet that the longer the title, the less probable it is it will be good for you.

Eat regularly. Four or five small meals a day is significantly better for you than that one huge evening meal.

TIP #4: Eat five servings of fruit and vegetables per day. Attempt to make them organic where possible. Do try to get them unpackaged. That lettuce at the cellophane pack might seem fresh but it's probably been washed in detergent. Do wash all products, not only for any detergent but also for the elimination of any harvest spray.

Occasionally cakes can get boring, so do a bit of research and find new items to include. The health benefits of sprouting seeds is monumental. You can grow them yourself quite cheaply and have them fresh daily.

TIP#5: JOIN A GYM. With such a sizable part of the populace at risk of being diagnosed as clinically obese, it's of no surprise that health clubs are all the rage today. You should do a bit of research before you join . Bear in mind that a gym that has a fantastic reputation doesn't need to resort to aggressive advertising or create dubious offers.

So why join a gym in any respect? Because, it's where to go to burn calories and build muscle. Some might be put off by the notion of being surrounded by beautiful people and super healthy bodies. Do not worry. These people used to be where you are now and with a little discipline you may combine them in feeling good and looking great.

You're going to have to begin with a resistance training program in addition to a cardiovascular program. For the best benefit in addition to all over fitness, this is the best approach. We're not making recommendations concerning the particular routines or exercises on which you should be focusing as such will vary widely dependent on several things. Age, height, build, gender etc.. suffice to say you will need the recommendation of a recognised authority on the topic. In a fantastic gym you'll find no shortage of enthusiastic help if you need it.

TIP #6: GET A BUDDY. There may be no greater incentive to get you to the gym than knowing that someone is there waiting for you. Nobody enjoys letting down people and in this instance it's to your mutual benefit.

Start looking for a gym partner that's not too strict or too indulgent in their service. Start looking for somebody who will be supportive but firm in keeping you on track. You should also think about finding a partner who will mesh well with your personality in addition to schedule and location. It sometime helps if you're new to getting healthy, you can be a help and an inspiration to one another. Are you looking for more tips about healthy living. Visit PARACOSMISTS

3 Essentials To A Fuller and Healthier Life

Among the most frequent misgivings people have when it comes to embarking upon a healthy living program is they believe it'll be prohibitively costly to implement. Gym memberships and fitness equipment do not come cheap and a enormous number of the supplements on the market, certainly in the gym, look hugely costly. However, it isn't all bad news.

You may create some hugely significant changes to your life at no cost! In this day and age with everyone living such hectic, stressful lifestyles it's easy to overlook the basic principles of healthy living, and to focus on the latest fad diet or exercise gimmick to supply us with the quick fix that so many folks crave. So lets just have a moment to check out the 3 fundamentals to leading a healthier lifestyle, things we could implement right now without spending a dime.

There's a magical elixir that can cure all ills and is completely overlooked by most people. It's Water! For years, physicians, nutritional experts and exercise trainers have advocated that drinking eight 8 oz glasses of water every day is an absolute necessity to keep good health. Drinking more will help burn more fat by increasing lipolysis and mobilizing stored fat.

Of course there have been innumerable research into this. The University of Utah completed among the most recent. They found that those who consume the most water have higher metabolisms. In this study, subjects drank 4, 8, or 12 cups of water every day. Those who drank at least 8 cups reported greater concentration and greater energy levels, and tests revealed they were burning off more calories than the 4-cups-a-day group. As we all know, higher metabolisms lead to greater fat loss, a very important tool in any weight loss quest.

The National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey quantified where most of our calories come from and found, to their horror, the group making up the greatest proportion of our calorie intake-over 7 percent in fact-was not a food in any respect. It was soda!

These carbonated drinks contain loads and loads of sugar and empty calories (or health zapping artificial sweetners). Additionally, they can cause bloating and water retention. The bottom line here is steer clear of the fizzy drinks and unhealthy juices and stick to water in the event you possibly can. Many times fat will melt away with this one little change.

The next element to use in any healthy living program is that most natural of sleep! I can not begin to stress the importance of a great night's sleep, at least 7-8 hours if at all possible. Lack of sleep has been demonstrated to cause numerous problems, including severe mood swings, lack of memory and chronic fatigue. It has also been associated with high blood pressure, metabolism and weight problems, and depression. The essential point here is that too little sleep leaves us completely unable to work at our best. How on earth can you expect to lead a healthy life if you aren't getting enough sleep?

Now there are many tips on the best way best to get a better night's sleep and we could probably fill another few pages on the topic, nevertheless, here are only a few to get on with. Firstly, commit to creating a regular around your bedtime. Go to bed at exactly the exact same time each night and get up in the morning the exact same way. Keep your bedroom free of white noise and unnecessary distractions and try to keep the room cool and dark. Experiment with the amount of pillows etc to ensure that your bed is as comfortable as you can. Whatever it takes, get some sleep!

Last, let us take some time to CHILL OUT!! Anxiety is perhaps the biggest killer in the western world. There appears to be so much anger and pressure in our daily lives that it is little wonder we find it so tough to follow our healthy living regime. Yoga, massage, meditation, prayer, painting, composing, singing, dancing or making love. Whatever it takes for you to unwind and get some perspective on life.

These 3 principles are relatively straightforward to put into action, but when it comes to making some positive changes in your life they're only the tip of the iceberg, though you ought to aim to make them an important part of your healthy living plan. Whether you are attempting to drop weight or not they will still constitute good information and must be heeded.

The terrific news here however, is that you're not alone. Changing your life for the better could be challenging and you'll need all of the help you can get. Grab a buddy for assistance or hire a coach who will hold you accountable to what you state you desire.

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Tel Aviv 2019: Straight outta Iceland to Eurovision with a plan to end capitalism... with cakes!

Meanwhile, in Iceland...

Iceland’s a peaceful nation, innit? So calm, so serene, they wouldn’t even want to squish a fly and would rather wish it a nice day if they were personified as a whole. Except that they’re actually not quite and firstly reacted rather massively negatively on the news of Israel going up for to host Eurovision 2019, even with 23,000 Icelanders signing a petition calling on the Icelandic national broadcaster to boycott the contest, and even the big Söngvakeppnin 2017 darling Daði Freyr signed it. I admire their courage but broadcasters are broadcasters and if they take proverbial decisions and later are fine with everything, I don’t see why wouldn’t try participating anyways, and THEN withdraw if there are issues with something, like last minute call from EBU to get their shit together with funding or a faulty national final contract...

Well, fuck your protests, RÚV said, and went ahead with another Söngvakeppnin edition in the works.

And boy I assume the protest was large af if only 10 entries ended up being chosen for the final cut... what was Iceland gonna do? Have 4 finalists in total? Well no, someone was gonna get a wildcard to round up the finalists in the end.

But enough about that. Out of all of those 10 acts, full of mostly okay songs, we saw a clear win for the ones and only - it's the anti-capitalist award winning techno BDSM bondage unicorn soft boy couple goals kids loving sprinkles and rainbows performance art project group Hatari that went and enjoyed their time in Tel Aviv already, with their kick-ass song, "Hatrið mun sigra".

And oh boy was it an exciting pick for Iceland. Do you remember their last year's entry? Well, this year Iceland decided to shit all over their love and peace mindset by presenting us with series of bold statements like "Life is meaningless!", "Happiness comes to an end!", "Europe will crumble!"... right after the year they were all about the choice we could make to help and to heal in different ways. Feels though as if we should have swapped the entries because with "Hatrið mun sigra"'s events coming to life, "Our Choice" sounds like an aftermath because with happiness ending, so are people's stabilities, and too many would indeed be dying in vain. And how the world is starting to learn all over again about the acceptance of one another, and all that. It truly is Ari in the streets and Hatari in the sheets. ;)

Let's take a minute to appreciate the entry itself though. It opens up with eerie buzzes, off-measure beat and a warning "huh!" shout, that leads us all into this beautiful musical kingdom. Its instrumental is badass. It's one hypnotic techno tune that could easily be used in a car commercial. Or a catwalk. Or a glorious boss fight in an 8 bit game. What makes it more unique is the vocal balance - Hatari's core force are the two cousins Matthías and Klemens, who created the band and recruited their friends to help them on tours I suppose, and now the friends are here with them in Tel Aviv. The thing that makes it somewhat eyebrow raising, despite being a damn fine techno piece, is the instant screaming of the lyrics in the verses (courtesy of Matthías) and the light angel-esque vocal sound that's kinda reminiscent of Sigur Rós's Jónsi (courtesy of Klemens). Yin-yang if you will. A subtle balance of the two, and even the Icelandic meme mother Morges pointed it out that if it were only Matthías's growls on the song or Klemens's falsetto, it would sound too much and people would be bored by it.

Other than this song being perfectly composed (even with including a god damn keychange) and making me wanna dance, there's an image tying it all together. I did say it earlier that one part of Hatari's many descriptions is BDSM and bondage. And this definitely is there on their imagery, especially on the Icelandic NF. The boxes, the choreography, the color red, the backgrounds... everything on here is life. The way Matthías gets one of the Hatari dancers by the neck at the very end of their NF performance is just... unexplainably flawless. Go watch it here.

Some might say that this whole thing is more reminiscent of AWS from last year, but this isn't quite true. AWS were simple boys with nothing much in mind for Eurovision other than to make a "typical metal show". Hatari are here with a proper message to dismantle capitalism. AWS were just fun, Hatari are both fun and condescending. AWS didn't really have all that buzz going on for themselves in the odds, Hatari are still sitting in bookies top 10 as of now. AWS didn't prepare anything shocking for the audiences other than playing really loud and the scream breakdown only coming in on the bridge of the song. Hatari is full on onto you with everything - the costumes, the words, and so on, and the screaming is already on with them verses. And Hatari have way more chances to be memorable than AWS by being completely outstanding in everything. We love bondage kings singing in Icelandic (the language's 2nd appearance in Eurovision from an Icelandic song in this decade, first time it happened in 2013). We truly do. (And so do I still love the AWS boys, don't mind me.)

So as a whole I'd like to say that I really, REALLY adore this. It's expressive, it's divisive, it's brave, it doesn't care if you hate it, it's there and it's divine. I didn't really piece my thoughts well together on this, but I will forever find a lot of nice things to say on it, after all this time, always. ♡ The whole team and the whole marketing from Iceland Music News is perfect. The song is perfect. The composition is perfect. The chorus and the chorus lyrics are love. The performance... could use some good camerawork, but still. I'm crying at how much this is beautiful. Iceland's alternative scene is banging and them finally submitting something from one of its many outskirts among all of those pop songs is a victory on its own. Love, love, love Hatari. I bow down to these great people for existing and ending up on Eurovision.

Now tell me, how are you not going to love a band that was noticed by Icethony Landtano himself? ★

And how are you not going to love a band that loves children? And cakes? If you don’t, then shame on you, really. ;p

Approval factor: no. ....... way I’m not going to approve this ;) I want more epic Iceland after that, too.

Follow-up factor: Actually, that's the best possible way of approval I've ever seen. It's a complete 180 of an entry jump that it's impossible to believe the angel Ari came before Hatari. Good job, Iceland! Keep going that good way!

Qualification factor: Well, this is a case of all or nothing, where an entry is so loudly and proudly different that you don't know exactly where is it gonna place. If AWS had some sort of struggles to qualify (they were 4 fucking points over Romania last year), so would have Hatari, but only if the televote doesn't give them enough love against the jury's hatred. But for now I'd remain extremely and utterly positive over the boys. =) The final will hear of that song about the dystopia, the power and powerlessness, the hope and hopelessness, and that if we don't remember to love, the hatred will prevail and the capitalism will overwhelm the world. (so I secretly hope for them to win too haha)

NATIONAL FINAL BONUS

Honestly, thank you RÚV for making Söngvakeppnin 2019 happen despite the petition. I love it how a band with the most shocking atmosphere won - kinda embodies the feeling of most of this nation's about what's going in Israel and Palstine. But no more on that. I'll not discuss that anymore. It's highlights time:

• At this point, who needs NF highlights if Hatari are highlights themselves. ♥ I love a token unphased contestant - the one that minds one's own business by not being overly happy - in fact, most of the things that occured to Hatari are, in their own words, "according to plan"! So they're all like, "yeah we entered and thanks to us being here, we're definitely winning this, and will definitely win Eurovision after winning that". Them drinking SodaDream in their tracksuits and not giving a single fuck about the surroundings, especially after being announced as qualifiers to the NF final, was an absolute #mood. They even were amazing on a show named 12stig (where Icelandic NF participants are talking about what will they do in the NF, what will they do if they make it to Tel Aviv after winning, etc.), with Matthías basically serving as the spokesperson for Klemens's piece of mind, and then them both doing a hand gesture,.. Communicating through one's whispers being voiced by a mastermind. Sounds like a horror movie concept.

• And no, I didn't love Hatari only - there was this one joyful great love pop song bearer finalist Tara Mobee whose song I liked. Other favourite acts include this indie blues number by a Faroese madame Kristina Skoubo, a silly pop/dance perfection by Daníel Óliver and a country-ish flavoured folk-ish pop song by Ívar Daníels. Granted they're too tame in comparison to Hatari, but they could have been other great alternatives for Eurovision! Unlike the two returning artists that competed... Hera Björk being one of them... she signed the petition against Iceland in 2019 Eurovision FFS! and yet she's here with her mind changed??

• Ari Ólafsson returning for a both winner reprise AND an epic and unexpected take on "Grande amore", one of the beloved Italian entries. Can't believe that actually became a thing but... here you go I suppose? Flawless vocals. If anyone deserves to repeat their ESC stint from Iceland, it's Ari.

• Other highlights of the final night were Yohanna reprising her 2nd placer smash hit "Is It True?" 10 years later and even doing an Icelandic "Shallow" cover with the hosts ❤ and even Selma from Jerusalem 1999 fame came on the show too, but only in the green room!

• That one time I saw Friðrik Ómar (one of the two returning artist potential contestants) wearing a Freddie Mercury shirt ❤

• This honest to God mess of a performance and honest to God mess of a song. The song was a football anthem from 00s ripoff, the guy looked like Lil Pump and sounded annoying ("BLÆ BLÆ BLÆ"), the girls were salvageable, the chorus is cute and the performance? "So how many colors and dancers do you want?" "Yes." I hated it but 'twas fun I s'pose.

• I loved laughing at certain things of Söngvakeppnin, like the random insert of all the other contestants into ads and a lot of times I had to see the recap of all the (super)finalists. That's the only non-musical highlight I have aside from postcards, sorry Eleni. ❤ Your repeat performance of "Fuego"/"Tómame" from the Spanish NF and your trashbag dresses were still sleek tho.

Think that's all I'm gonna talk about. For now I would just love to end this by saying that Hatari might be scary, but children indeed love them (a lot of Hatari support posters in the NF were held by children, some of them teens even had bondage masks lol. Besides, 2 of the main members (if you count the band’s drummer Einar alongside the main members list) have kids on their own so it's understandable). Hatari might be impudent, but it attracts some people who love crazy in Eurovision. Hatari might be too political, but they're here in Tel Aviv to raise awareness, not to outright fucking protest - they know their goddamn limits, okay?? So for now, I'd just like to wish everyone involved in Iceland's entry the best in their life and to know that they contributed to one of the best things that happened to Eurovision. Only the eternal glory to the Icelandic lords and saviours. HATRED CAN AND WILL PREVAIL, END OF.

Oh and cakes!

[333kaylynn]

Foreigner/ grayson dolan

hey guys its been a while but i hope u enjoy! im making this into two parts, hence the cliffhanger at the end (sorry folks)

tags: @bouttogolinkurbitch @kara-dolan @heathendolan @dimply-dolan @dolandreaminn @notanotherdolantwinsblog @justanotherdolanblog @doltishdolans @boujeebailey @emotionalxcherry22 @starrydolan @dolantwins-1999 @graysonsbitch @dolanwritings

word count: 1,682

request?: Can I have a scenario when G.D and the reader have BIG crush on each other and y/n are like bffffffs, soulmates and goals.Everyone knows about this crush but no one wants to admit it and one time after HUGE fight with Grey y/n is leaving to her country (she's a foreigner) and later Grey also is finding out that some their fans were bothering her. I need angst with happy ending. I hope thats not too much. 

(i hope u dont mind im making this into to parts love<3 i hope u enjoy tho, xoxo)

/ 

The way you flipped your hair and pulled it back into a ponytail was sure enough to get Grayson’s attention. Everything you do catches his attention. You hadn’t seemed to realize it, but everyone else did. You saw him as a potential love interest, but the way you assumed he saw you was not the same. It hurt you to think about him not feeling the same way but you knew, or at least you thought, that that was the case. 

Everything he did, you paid attention to. He was always so determined in what he did and you loved that about him.

"Y/n watch this!" Grayson ran into the pool and did a backflip, causing you to get splashed. You groaned out of frustration and glared at Grayson before laughing at his childlike mannerisms. "Good job Gray." You proceeded to run into the pool and swim towards him, splashing him as you do so.

You and Grayson were bestfriends until the end. Everyone knew that. Everyone also knew the feelings you two held in your hearts for eachother, but each of you hadn't seemed to notice the others true feelings. The two of you would constantly flirt with eachother and everyone saw it. But you both just saw it as a normal thing friends do.

You both swam to the ladder on the edge of the pool and climbed out. Grayson watched as you flipped your hair out of your face and squeezed as much of the water out as you could. You tossed your now slightly knotted hair up into a bun. Grayson grabbed himself a towel and tossed you one so you could dry off before walking back inside.

"She clearly likes you, Gray." Ethan whispered to his brother who was eyeing you as you walked around the kitchen, putting the clean dishes away. You danced marvelously around the kitchen, spinning around without a care in the world.

"Highly unlikely, bro. She sees me as a friend and nothing more." Grayson continued eyeing you, smiling at your freed state of being. You started quietly singing "Everybody Wants To Rule The World" by Tears for Fears, and Grayson grinned at the soft sounds of the melodies coming out of your mouth.

"Nope. I see it. You like her, obviously, and she likes you. Just ask her on a date dude. What's the worst that could happen?" Ethan nudged Grayson and Grayson sighed before answering, "Um, she could say no? I could potentially ruin our entire friendship?"

Ethan ignored Grayson's answer and pushed him into the kitchen where you had still been singing.

Y/n hadn’t felt true affection in ages. It’s as if love didn’t really exist in her books. She’s felt the friendly affectionate vibes that Grayson gives her, but nothing that made it feel like she had a soulmate. She always felt out of the group with her friends because while they had all been out losing their virginities, she sat at home and could only imagine what the feeling was like. Grayson gave her only a sliver of the feeling she truly wanted. But she wanted more. More from him, specifically. You see, she was head over heels for this boy ever since they met. Her worries and problems washed away when she was around him because the only emotion she felt was happiness. She had this odd infatuation with him and the lust shown in her eyes when they were just simply swimming in the pool was enough for everyone but Grayson to see how in love she is with him. 

“Gray! Get over here!” Y/n yells and Grayson walks over, “Yes darling?” You pick up a handful of the soap bubbles and blow them onto his face, allowing a few to sit atop his set of hair. 

“That’s what you wanted?” Grayson laughs and runs after you as you run out of the kitchen and outside. You’re now standing on the opposite side of the pool, Grayson watching you intently to make sure he knows which way you’re about to go so he can chase after you. You look to your left and then to your right and immediately run to your left and go up past Grayson, pushing him into the pool while you run passed. You walked back into the house while laughing to yourself and Ethan looks up and asks, “What’s so funny, Y/n?” Right as he says that, Grayson walks in, “I’m going to KILL you.” He points at you and you laugh before putting on a face of pure horror and running away from him again.

After a while Grayson quits chasing you and he changes into dry clothes. 

“Y/n, come out here!” Grayson asks as he grills something. You walk out and look over his shoulder at the kebabs that sat on the grill cooking. “Yes?” 

Grayson sets down the stick he was using to move the food and lifts you up, running to the pool, and throwing you in. Immediately you start flopping around and screaming, “Gray! I can’t- can’t swim!” 

Grayson’s face is full of shock and without a second doubt he runs into the pool and grabs you. You start laughing and Grayson looks at you. “What’s so funny?” 

“We literally went swimming yesterday, Grayson. I can swim just fine! See?” You let go from his grip, which you really were longing for, and swam around, causing Grayson to get pissed but he started laughing along with you after a minute. 

“I think we should go clubbing tomorrow.” You say out of the blue, causing Grayson to stop swimming and look over at you. 

“Why?” He asks, allowing you to continue. “It’ll be fun, I wanna get out and partyyyy.” You say, rolling your head back as you say party and swimming closer to him. 

The next day rolled around and you wandered downstairs in your pajamas and saw Grayson and Ethan sitting at the island counter eating breakfast and checking their phones. You sighed and took a seat across from Ethan and Grayson greets you and gives you a small grin. You smile back and head back upstairs to get ready for the day.

"We still going out tonight?" Grayson asked as he peaked into your room and soon walking fully into the room. You nod and spun around after you finished straightening your last bit of hair. "Of course we are. Is E joining?"

"Yeah most likely. Are we going to Black Rabbit?" Grayson asks as he takes a seat onto your bed. You smile and reply with a simple "Yeah." and go back to doing your makeup. 

The two of you arrived at the club and you immediately began dancing with the crowd of people amongst you. You had absolutely no care in the world, and Grayson simply stood and admired you from afar. Little did he know, you were doing the same, but you were better at hiding it. Obviously you couldn’t tell Grayson was staring at you, watching the way your hips swayed softly to the beat of the music, but anyone else that payed attention could. That’s what sucks so much for Grayson, he knows that other people know, but sadly you don’t and he doesn’t have the courage to tell you himself. 

“Y/n, come dance with me!” Grayson pulled you away from the group of people you were surrounded by and you smiled before grabbing onto his hands and dancing to the beat of the song. Grayson twirled you underneath his arm and spun you closer to him, causing the two of you to laugh at your child-like selves. You wandered off and Grayson headed to get the two of you drinks. When Grayson arrived back to the spot you were before, you were gone. Grayson looked around to find you until he eventually spotted you. You were dancing with a few of the men that had surrounded themselves onto you and Grayson watched in disbelief as you grinded against them. He got fed up and yelled for you to come over, “Y/n! Come on.” The boys yelled back for her as she continued to sway her hips on their crotches. “She doesn’t wanna go with you dude.” Grayson sighed and walked closer and grabbed onto your arm and you ripped away and continued dancing, you turned around and put your arms on the boys shoulder, dancing more and more. “She already said she didn’t want to go with you, leave her alone!” Grayson ignored the comment and turned to you, “Come on, y/n! I thought you wanted to spend time with me, not be a fucking slut.” You turned around and looked at Grayson, your eyes watering but you won’t allow tears to fall. Before you can say anything, Grayson gets punched in the face. You were sick of it, and you decided to sneak off and leave the club. 

As you arrived home you grabbed your computer and began searching for tickets to fly back home. This wasn’t a permanent decision, you knew that, your life was here. But you needed space, specifically from Grayson. You purchased a ticket for the flight at 7:45 am the next morning and closed your computer before locking your door and falling asleep. 

The next morning you woke up to your alarm blasting and you got up and grabbed the bag you had packed the night before. You walk outside and shove the bag into your backseat and drive to the airport, ready for your long flight back to your home country. 

-

You arrive home and get in a taxi to your parents house, where you would be staying. You knocked three times on the door very softly and began to take your shoes off before entering the house. Your mother opened the door and pulled you in for a hug. “jib-eseo mwohago issni?” (What are you doing at home?) You sighed and walked into the house and sat onto the couch before continuing, “Geuleiseun.” (Grayson)

“geuga museun jis-eul hangeoya?“ (What did he do?) You sighed before continuing with the conversation, 

[pontmercyingtil]

Noise & Silence, E/R ficlet

“Thou talk'st of nothing."  "True, I talk of dreams...” (Romeo and Juliet)

It’s the quiet hours that are the hardest.

Not that the other hours don’t present their own challenges. But the moments when Grantaire’s alone, before he drifts off to sleep, or when he’s staring at a blank canvas with no ideas of how to fill it, those hurt. The silence offers no distraction from thoughts he’d rather not have.

When he’s around the others, he can talk, sing, shout, dance, anything to keep the thoughts away. Paint can be splashed onto a canvas sometimes, just to rid it of its blankness, and just like that, can an empty room be filled with a rambling lecture. Combeferre once teased him, saying he spoke a great deal about nothing at all.

What the young scholar didn’t know was how nothing at all was so much better than the feeling of everything pressing down on him.

As long as the others around him were amused, and the wine was flowing, Grantaire doesn't have to feel the emptiness deep inside. It was a shard of broken glass beneath his rib cage, and it pulsed in time with his heart, whispering “Alone. Alone. Alone.”

He doesn’t want to be alone.

He’d always been alone.

Even when surrounded by others, he knows he’s alone, knows whatever he says is idle chatter, because he mattered to no one.

If he keeps the noise going, kept the party alive, then he wouldn’t have to think about the one person he wanted more than any party, more than any liquor. The one person who chose to neither party, nor drink.

The one person who could make him feel less alone, deep in his heart. Because there was something in Enjolras’s silence, in the way he could say a single word and quiet any noisy room, that calmed Grantaire’s own dark thoughts. It was that power that both drew Grantaire closer to the man, and terrified him. Does Enjolras know, that sometimes, in the still night, he dreams thoughts of revolution too? That a small, quiet part of him too long fors a better world?

No. And he will never know. Must never know. Because if he knew those thoughts, then he would too know that Grantaire is weak, unworthy, unable to face his fears. He knows he’s alone, yes, and knows that being alone is better than trying and failing to fix it.

It was the loudness that hurt him the most.

The raucous echoes inside a classroom, a roaring peal of laughter over a matter that certainly was not humorous, dirty songs shouted as they walked into the Musain. The moments that Enjolras knew he was failing, that the group assembled before him were nothing more than school boys, not revolutionaries. The noise distracts him, and sounds like a never-ending echo in his ears. Failure. Failure. Failure. 

That’s all he is. It doesn’t matter what he wants, though he wants a great deal. He’s been told all his life he’ll never amount to anything. His father used to say he was just a pretty face.

He wants to be much more than that. Enjolras  wants to succeed. He wants to change the world.

He knows that he probably won't. That all his speeches fall on ears that only hear topics for jokes or gossip, that all his pamphlets he hands out end up underneath cold glasses full of beer.

He will never amount to anything, the noise tells him. He cannot raise his voice loud enough for anyone to hear.

Courfeyrac tells him to relax, to join in the fun. What the young man doesn’t know is that Enjolras has forgotten how to do so. Laughter, in these past few months, is a feeling he has given up on. It feels too fricolous, too wasteful to imagine enjoying life.

Because if he started to enjoy life, then he might be afraid to die.

A good revolutionary must stare death in the eye, and never cower from it. He must be brave, always, a leader among the people. Stern. Calm. Collected.

But deep in his heart, Enjolras doesn’t feel like he’s any of those things. He feels like a fraud, a silly boy, a nervous wreck. Sometimes, when he raises his voice to ask those around him to silence themselves, his voice cracks like a boy’s, despite being over twenty. His studies have become a disaster, his rooms resemble a war zone, and he can never sleep, because when he lays down, he feels guilty for having not done more that day.

So, no, he does not laugh, nor dance, nor join in the joyous mess around him. He practices and he preaches and he bottles up all his fear, hiding it under a stern face that he will never admit feels like a mask.

He knows he’s a coward, and afraid of failing. But to admit it is to fail, and so he will never speak of it.

The two of them exist like this, chaos and calm, pining and fear, until one day, when Enjolras loses his temper.  Grantaire is in the corner, ranting about stars and candles and all matters of nonsense. Enjolras storms over to him, puts his hand on his shoulder, and demands, “Are you ever quiet?”

The hand causes Grantaire to turn, and to utterly, and completely, become quiet.

Enjolras looks at Grantaire. Really, really looks at him for the first time. Noticing the bump of a once broken nose, the crooked smile of someone who’s forgotten what a real one looks like.

And Enjolras can’t remember the last time he smiled, either.

It’s not a handsome face, no, but it is not a mask either. That expression, as broken as it is, is genuine, real, alive. “Not as long as I live, no.” Grantaire replies.

“And if you were to die?”

“Than I shall sing my way through the afterlife, until the angels summon me up to their lofty heights, impressed by my vocals.”

Something tugs at Enjolras’s face. A crack in the mask. A smile. “So, all this… the shouting, the drinking, the partying, it’s not out of spite?”

“Spite?” Grantaire chuckles. “No. Say rather, fear.”

He keeps talking, because of course he does, but it’s that word that Enjolras hears again and again in his head. Grantaire has no problem admitting to it. Words are easy for him.

And they are so difficult for Enjolras. Grantaire uses up more words in a single answer than he might in a whole day. He forces himself to ask, “fear of what?”

Grantaire wets his lips, but for the first time, it is he who is silent.

Oddly enough, he stays silent, every day.

The meetings pass with no laughter, no songs, until Enjolras begins to miss them. WIthout Grantaire’s noise, it is just his lecturing. Courfeyrac teases them with a hint he might be bringing a new friend soon, one that will be eager to learn more of the ABC’s politics, but until this mystery friend shows up, Enjolras is quite literally preaching to the choir.

“Grantaire!” he calls, then, suddenly, fixed with the strangest idea. He should have gone to bed earlier last night. Or at all. “Sing us a song.”

“What?”

“You have been so quiet, I think everyone has gone to sleep.”

The man tilts his head, and Enjolras fears that he’s gone too far.

There’s that word again. Fear.

But when Grantaire begins to sing, the fear slides away, melting like snow under the sunlight. It’s an old folk tune, nothing lewd, nothing crass. Enjolras finds himself following, a counterpoint melody. That’s what they are. Counterpoint. Bright and dark, noise and silence. And they cannot live without both.

Somehow, all the other Amis slink away, until it is only the two of them in the room. Singing. Neither too much noise, nor none at all. Just… peace. Harmony now,  voices blending.

More than voices too, as Grantaire opens his arms and Enjolras steps into them, letting himself be held for just one moment.

For just a little bit of eternity.

Finally, he whispers, “is there any way to have you only noisy at the right times?”

“Oh I can think of a few ways to shut me up,” Grantaire says, and Enjolras freezes. Blushes terribly.

Grantaire’s hand slides into his. “What I’d really like, is for you to make some noise.”

Enjolras knows he could laugh it off. It very well could be a dirty joke. But something in the way Grantaire’s hand feels in his own, warm, steady, real, suggests otherwise. “How?”

“Embrace your fear. Live your life.”

They’re simple words, but they resound within all the hollow spots inside him. “And you? Will you let me teach you peace?”

Grantaire smiles. His free hand, fingers stained with paint, brushes through Enjolras’s golden hair. “You already have. I’m just a terrible student.”

They kiss, and it is the loudest soft noise that has ever sounded within that room. Two hearts, both calling out, now beating in time with each other.

[wizardsnwookies]

POTA 081518 - Hearth and Fire

“Welcome back.” Drenaris fluttered her eyes, it was dark, almost as dark as the unconsciousness she just awoke from but there was just enough light from a flickering fire to see the outline Aviate’s face staring down at her.

“Tell me they’re dead.”

“Most of them, we find ourselves in the company of the remainders.” Aviate eased her up into a sitting position, casting a glance over his shoulder to the raging funeral pyre consuming the dead.

“They mean to takes us back to their stronghold for initiation. Poh is of the mind to dispose of them before that happens.”

“Of course he is. For once, I’m in total agreement with him.” Drenaris scanned the scene, six figures stood as shadows against the flame, staring into it with a kind of reverent awe. Their horse and wagon had been drawn up to the camp where tents and bedrolls had already been laid out for the evening. Twilight had already settled in, and the stars glittering like diamonds above their heads.

“Where is the little fiend anyways?”

A slight elevation of his head turned Drenaris attention to the back of the wagon where the hunched figure of Poh sat in intense examination of one of the serrated blades carried by the water people. Piled around him were several bits and pieces of armor collected from both sides. Netting and crustacean shell from the water folk, burnished brass on the other. Sitting up, Drenaris reached a hand out towards the hilt of a rather simple looking longsword among the littler.

“This from the flame cult?”

Poh turned his head, seemingly unaware that his companion had once again regained consciousness. He offered a nod, showing no reaction or concern for her state of being, before turning his attention back to what Drenaris could now see was a sword lined on either side with rows of shark teeth. She carefully drew the longsword from the wagon, the cold steel singing as it dragged against the old wood.

She tested it in her hands, the weight, the balance, the construction. She didn’t know much about a lot of things, but she knew weaponry, you needed to if you wanted to survive the pits. In every sense, it was unimpressive. The balance was passable, a bit to heavy to wield with any significant speed, and the blue folded steel had been smithed with reasonable competence. Still, she knew there was a secret to be unlocked here, magical or otherwise. She had see the flame cult wield these with a ripples of flame climbing up its length. The question was, how was this triggered?

“Stow it, they’re coming back.” The pirate stood, collecting the sword from her hands before helping Poh surreptitiously hide the ill gotten goods under a length of tent fabric. Backlit by the raging bonfire, the woman Aviate had come to know as Rebecca approached flanked by two of her subordinates, a slight man with raven hair, and another female with eyes the color of emeralds.

“You’re awake. So tell me, have your friends shown you the light?” There was no alternative offered, instead, she drew the longsword at her hip and let it fall to her side ominously.

“No.” Drenaris stood on shaky legs, chin held high, eyes burning. Aviate felt his muscles tense. He hadn’t yet gotten the opportunity to tell her they were feigning allegiance, this could end very badly.

“The glory of the eternal flame doesn’t need others to attest to it’s power.”

“Well said.” Not quite smiling, Rebecca sheathed her sword, her stance relaxing some. “I am Rebecca Thorne of the Eternal Flame. This is Arman Sial,” she motioned to the slight man to her right, “and  Barabal Bhodhsa.” The woman to her left seemed of a much warmer temperment than her colleges, her smile wide, eyes shining.

“Welcome to dae fold. Rebecca seems like a tite arse but donna worry none, she grows on yae.” Drenaris had to strain to hear past Barabal’s thick accent, but her voice was friendly and lighthearted. It was almost a shame that they would have to kill her.

“Come, bask in the power of the fire and we shall begin your education.”

---

Hearth and Fire be ours tonight And all the dark outside, Fair the night, and kind on your Wherever you abide

And I’ll be the glow upon your head The warmth upon your face My life upon the path you tread And upon your name I swear

Wine and song be ours tonight And the fire in our heart; Power and warmth be yours tonight Wherever you abide

Hearth and Fire be outs tonight And the embers upon the wind Oh that the fire we stoke tonight Would find you warm and fair

It was a crowd-pleaser. Sure, he may have weaved a little charm spell into the music, and yes he may have altered the lyrics to suit his needs, but Aviate liked to think that regardless these zealots would have been enthralled by him even if he had not been quite so manipulative. When Drenaris used a simple Thulmaturgy spell to make the flames dance, he had to stow his annoyance and check his ego. This wasn’t a simple plying of his trade, he had to remember, this was about setting the stage for slaughter.

“I feel that song only appropriate for the evening.” He took a strong bow as applause and cheers rang out from the half dozen cultists. Even Rebecca had seemed to lighten up some. “It brings up the only thing missing. Wine!”

“We do not drink.” In an instant, the cold frown returned on the captain’s face. This was a tough one, Aviate thought. “The fire of the eternal flame is already within our bellies.”

“Is that how you ignite your swords?”

“Nah, with our faith.” Barabal stood proudly, thrusting her blade into the air in salute. In an instant, sparks of flame began to dance on the cold blue steel it’s orange glow slithering across her face.

“Your faith, huh?” Drenaris stood, offering her hand, palm up. “Mind if I give it a try?”

Six voices broke out in laughter around the fire, each one of the acolytes slapping their knees and clutching their aching sides. Barabal was more restrained, seemingly not willing to mock her new comrade. Instead she doused the flame and flipped the sword in the air, catching it by the blade and thrusting the hilt towards Drenaris.

“Don’t mean nae offense, but I cannae think a newcomer-” Barabal jumped back with a start, the instant the leather grip touched Drenaris fingers a rush of flame shot upwards towards her hand. Aviate hid a smile from the crowd, smoke and mirrors magic, nothing that would fool anyone with half a brain. However, against those already charmed to take a liking to the group...

“It seems I have misjudged you.” Rebecca stood with a smile of reverence upon her face. Her eyes watched the dancing flame upon the blade as if it were god itself. “The glory of the Eternal Flame burns strong with you. Elazar will be eager to meet with you.”

“Elazar?” Dousing the flames, Drenaris tossed the sword back to an awestruck Barabal. Perhaps it would be wise to hold off on slaying these folk until after they learned a little something about all this. Could be useful if these little encounters were to be a recurring nuisance upon their journey.

“The Leader of the Hall of the Scarlet Moon. He will be the one to initiate you into the fellowship of the flame. He will be first to call you Sister.” A proud hand fell upon Drenaris shoulder. Rebecca had now fully cooled, Aviate’s spell fully taking hold.

“I eagerly await that honor. How much further a journey to we have?”

“Not long, one day’s journey back from whence you had arrived into our fold.”

“Really? We passed no hall on our way here.”

Rebecca smiled before turning back to stoke the bonfire to even greater heights. “These lands once held great kingdoms, of which all that are left are song and ruins. Though not the grand hall the eternal flame deserves, they serve our purposes well enough.”

“Interesting.” Drenaris mask faltered slightly. Casting her eyes over Rebecca’s shoulder she could see the dark silhouette of Poh, skulking behind the turned backs of the five sitting around the fire. He was getting impatient, and if his past actions were any indication, he was not one to wait for the order. He would strike when he was ready, or rather, when he was tired of waiting.

“It will be interesting to see how we all fit inside with the great gathering. The number of those eager to bask in the flame’s glory swells, and things are already becoming cramped in such a space.”

Almost imperceptibly, Drenaris chanced the slightest shaking of her head. Hoping beyond hope that the bird will actually listen this time. “What great gathering?”

“We gather our numbers for preparations of the great ritual.” Rebecca offered a wicked smile, turning back to the fire and tugging up her trousers before sitting upon a small stone. “You are lucky to have joined us when you did. A great cleansing is upon us. All who are unworthy will be wiped clean of this earth, leaving behind only those loyal to the eternal flame.”

This was far more than just a philosophical dispute between factions. This was something bigger, something insane, and now she had found herself somehow caught in the middle of it. All she wanted was to repay a debt owed to a cheating half-ork. How strangely the fates spin their webs.

“It’s about time if you ask me.” Aviate punctuated his exclamation with a pull of his wine skin, wiping his lips clean and nodding towards the group. “As much as I hate to break up the celebration, the night grows dark and it would be prudent to start a watch should any more of those waterlogged fools decide to seek revenge.”

“Mmm, Arman you take first watch.” There was no argument from the slight man when his captain spoke. He stood tall, grabbing his sword belt and buckled it around his waist with the speed and precision of a well trained soldier. These were not mere cultists, Aviate pondered, these were dedicated men and women of skill and discipline.

“Allow us to share the burden. Poh is quite gifted with the shadows, he will stand watch with his new brother.”

“Very well.” Arman stood patiently at the edge of the surrounding brush and tree cover. The way his eyes followed the bobbing motion of the Kenku’s gate betrayed the unease he felt for the creature. Wise man, Aviate thought to himself. Though no words had passed between them, he knew as well as Poh that though two of them disappeared into the darkness of the night, only one of them would emerge alive.

Buy Me a Coffee

[sunyoonandstars]

BTS scenario 4.2.: You having fallen victim to the Christmas / Holiday blues ... and them trying to cheer you up, one way or another ...

Sooooo lovely readers ... This is Episode 2 of my 4th BTS Scenario so far, and this one is actually quite personal ... Since my Christmas went down pretty much like the one you / the reader will experience in this story ... Except I didn’t have anyone, most of all no boyfriend, to comfort me lmao 😅 ... Okay, sorry. I really didn't mean to drag you down or spoil the mood. Just wanted to share this detail with you and say: 

Please, enjoy, and make sure to check out my other scenarios, if you like ^_^ And in case you, too, are having a hard time right now, just know that I am here and willing to listen. And never forget: The Night is darkest just before dawn. And you never walk alone. Stay strong! I’m sure you are being loved and understood, somehow, even though you might not be aware of it ... 

*************************************************************

Scenario

You spend Christmas with your BTS boyfriend and try your best to enjoy the quality time. However, you can’t help but feel blue. (I’m sure if you’re reading this you can relate …) This is how they handle the situation …

(In this scenario you are a foreigner, meaning not Korean by birth. I hope you don’t mind.)

fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, hints of smut

2. Min Yoongi / Suga

He would be most understanding and try his best to be there for you and of help, in his own way, without patronizing you …

For the first time since your relationship had become serious, Yoongi decided to accompany you and spend Christmas Eve with you and your family in your native country, even though you had insisted he didn’t have to, knowing that he has a busy schedule and is, very similar to you, not exactly a people person. However, he could not be talked out of it, and you are quite glad to have him by your side, after all ... This year, or rather every year anew, you are facing the holidays with mixed emotions. On one hand, you are looking forward to being reunited with your family once again, to seeing your baby brothers and sisters, to sharing good food and exchanging gifts, following long-lived traditions, playing games and such. On the other hand, however, you have a rather ... problematic history and relationship with your parents and aren't exactly known for being the mentally most stable and, most of all, most sociable member of your family, so, for you, the festivities usually have a bittersweet taste to them, being faced again and again with standards and expectations you just won’t be able to meet … Still, you try your best to enjoy the quality time with your loved ones and engage in all the activities, forcing a smile onto your lips, all the while being mentally distant, lost in thoughts, doubts and self-hatred, wishing to be a better daughter or rather just someplace else, alone -- or at least alone with Yoongi. You catch yourself looking over at Yoongi, trying to capture his gaze, even more often than usual, him being out of your reach, still surrounded and being questioned by your parents and grandparents, your younger siblings sticking to him like glue. Not to your surprise, actually, Yoongi is doing rather well. He must know how important it is to you that he gets along with your family and seems to really make an effort to be unusually friendly and open towards your folks. It’s obvious he enjoys himself much more than you do, or at least that appears be the case. However, he keeps avoiding your gaze most of the time, and even looks away whenever he catches you staring at him from a distance, only once throwing you a quick, reassuring smile. His behavior strikes you as odd, but you are sure he doesn't mean much by it. Yoongi is probably just too focused on being a good potential in-law to attend to you, too. And you can’t blame him. You know from experience that your family, especially with all the kids wanting and needing attention, can be a handful, and Yoongi is not even used to it. Soon after the seemingly never ending gift exchanging ceremony, the kids having retreated to their rooms in order to try out their new toys and your oh-so-perfect younger sister carefully watching over them, you dissociate yourself from the group of grownups still assembled in the living room, swarming around Yoongi like hyenas, and take a seat on the floor in front of the stereo, wanting to try out the new vinyl record of one of your favorite bands you found under the Christmas tree. Recently, ever since you moved to Korea, you hadn't been visiting your family’s home all that often, so you’re unsure how the electronics work, trying to at least shortly get your father’s attention, who has been helping one of your little brothers assemble a toy car for the past fifteen minutes already, cautiously asking him to explain how his turntable is to be connected to the speakers. At first your father merely ignores you, only to harshly inform you of his preoccupation with more pressing matters after repeated inquiries from your side, telling you your demands don't matter at the moment. You take his rejection without another word and try your best not to show any reaction, swallowing the treacherous tears creeping up your throat and already beginning to blur your vision. 

(Author’s note: I *strongly* advise you to listen to a few songs by ‘Cigarettes After Sex’, especially ‘Dreaming of You’, ‘K’, and ‘Apocalypse’, while reading the following part. Since that was the record I actually received as a present this year, and the music I had in mind while writing this. Also, it’s just plain beautiful. Give it a try...)

Carefully handling the equipment, you figure out by yourself how to play the record, falling completely silent and motionless as soon as the easy, melancholic music starts seeping out of the enormous, high-grade speakers, goosebumps instantly covering your whole body and tears welling up in your eyes again. This time, you don't fight them, even though you’re not even sure why exactly you are suddenly so … sad. Your face towards the wall, you let the tears freely stream down your cheeks, feeling their heat on your skin, the music completely taking you over. Frozen in place, entranced by the beautiful melody, while at the same time wanting to be literally any place but here, wanting to hide from the judgmental eyes of your less than understanding relatives, you slowly, unconsciously, begin to sway to the rhythm of the dark, romantic song currently playing, your lips silently singing along to the poetic lyrics. You are so absorbed by the music and the turmoil of your own emotions that you don't even notice Yoongi approaching. Startled, you look up at him as you feel his arms wrap around your shoulders from behind. When he sees your tears, Yoongi doesn't even seem to be surprised. With a hardly noticeable, yet warm and understanding, smile he pulls you up to your feet, cradling hour head in the crook of his neck so as to hide your face from your staring parents, pulling you into a tight hug and starting to slow dance, with you in his arms, across the living room, towards the door and out into the corridor. You can still hear the music as he takes your hand into his, your fingers naturally intertwining, and gently leads you towards your childhood bedroom which is now empty, except for a few book shelves and your antique wooden piano. Yoongi doesn't even bother to turn on the lights. He simply takes a seat on the piano stool, pulling you onto his lap. Your eyes closed, you lean into him, feeling his chest move against yours, his breath, his heartbeat, his mere presence comforting you like nothing else ever could and ever will. A pleasant shiver runs down your spine when you feel him brushing your hair aside and, soon after, his soft lips against your now exposed neck, slowly moving down towards your shoulder and collarbone, leaving a trail of hot kisses you can still feel after his lips have long left your skin. Having stayed like this for a while, sunken into each other in the darkness, breathing in sync, almost all tension slowly but surely having left your aching chest, Yoongi starts now playing a soft, slow melody on the piano, his beautiful hands reflecting the moon light falling through the high window to your right as they dance across the shimmering keys. „That was beautiful“, you whisper, almost soundlessly, as the last notes die away. „What’s it called?“ You can feel him shrug behind you. „No idea. Until about ten minutes ago I didn’t even know it existed…“, he says like it is nothing. „You just fucking improvised this!?“, you can’t help but exclaim in favorable disbelief, your voice echoing unnaturally loud in the high, almost empty room. „I guess so“, Yoongi chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. „You truly are a genius. Also in the way you acted with my family today … you were magnificent and surely a much better son, grandson and big brother than I’ll ever be a daughter, granddaughter or sister. They must love you already.” Without warning, Yoongi grabs you by your thighs and turns you around on his lap so you’re facing him now, the tips of your noses almost touching. „That’s not true, y/n, and you know it. You are a good daughter. You are an incredible person and you truly love them, in your own way. What more could they even wish for?“   „You don’t get it …“ You lower your head, embarrassed by your eyes starting to tear up once more. „I’m not what they want. I’m not as perfect as my sister, and I never will be. I mean, just look at me. I’m a fucking mess. It’s Christmas Eve and I was sitting by myself, crying for God’s sake … „And quite beautifully, I might add“, he smirks at you. „Oh, shut up, Min Yoongi! No one cries beautifully.“ „That’s not what I meant, y/n.“ He looks you deeply in the eye, pausing for a moment. „You are just so fucking beautiful. All the time. And your beauty was once again most evident when you sat there on the floor, so deeply touched by the music, completely engulfed in it, no longer being bothered by the world, only feeling yourself, feeling the art, being brought to tears by creation. I’m sure the Gods smiled with a tear in their eyes when they looked down at you right then and there, hating yourself for being the beautiful soul you are. To be honest, I sat and watched you for about three songs. I’m sorry I didn't get to you earlier, I was just too captivated by the sight of you …“ You don’t know what to say, you’re heart aching with all the love you feel for Yoongi this instant. So, without a word, you lean your forehead against his, feeling his hands buried in your long hair and his breath against your lips, inhaling his scent, taking in his existence with every fibre of your being. „I fucking love you more than anything in this miserable world, Min Yoongi“, you whisper, first softly but soon urgently kissing him. „I really want to say the same, but that would just sound terribly unoriginal …“, Yoongi whispers, smiling against your lips. „Then shut up and kiss me“, you demand, and Yoongi gladly complies.

*****************************************************************************

I hope you enjoyed my little story and, if in need, were able to take a little comfort from it. 

And I hope you had lovely holidays! Take care!

[ohthathurt]

Oh, Darling Bride!

Inspired by https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zVnbojCYPxU and my sister who sat on the ‘mayoon’ chair and literally received a proposal in the next few months.

Summary: Liam attends a typical South Asian wedding function with his boyfriend, when suddenly things take a turn for wtf-ville. (Read on AO3)

Also, just want to say a big thank you to all those who read/reblogged my prev fic. The amazing responses spurred me on to write some more :)

"Aaye laariye ni tera sehreya wala wyaanwan ayaa"

Laughter surrounded Liam; rich, hefty belly laughs and delicate, feminine giggles reached his ears as he turned around to face the party that was in full swing at the moment.

A soft drink in his hand and clad in a slightly stiff, but beautifully embroidered sherwani-

("Thank you, Trisha, I mean I can't believe you gave me-" "Oh quiet, babe, you'll look perfect in this anyway and it doesn't even fit Zayn...")

-Liam adjusted the vibrant yellow scarf around his neck when he felt warm, supple fingers meet his hand. He stood still, a smile sneaking its way onto his flushed face, as Zayn adjusted his scarf for him, gentle and slow, taking his time to make it lay perfect around him.

"Thanks, babe, I never know how to wear this," Liam muttered, turning to face his boyfriend. Ah, his boyfriend. The best gift given to him. He had even taken the time to thank Trisha once, fully enjoying her delightful laughter as Zayn stood behind her scowling prettily at him. Right now, he looked divine in a charcoal black kameez, as Zayn had called it, and a yellow scarf matching the one Liam wore. His hair, grown out and curling slightly behind his ears, was swept back carelessly; a fact Liam appreciated terribly as he was blessed with the view of Zayn running his long, delicate fingers through his hair every few minutes to adjust it.

God, he was awfully pretty. And had the most gentle and sensitive soul. How was he so lucky to deserve him?

His train of thought screeched to a stop with a gentle nudge from Zayn who was looking at him with inquisitive eyes, tongue curling around a small smile directed at him.

"You okay, babe?" he inquired gently, silently worried that this party was proving too much for Liam. Maybe he wasn't comfortable with Zayn's family?

Liam shrugged his worry off quickly, he was being a literal party pooper, standing in the corner of the Maliks' living room, making eyes at their son and being contemplative on a day of celebration.

It was Zayn's cousin's wedding. Or rather one of the several functions to follow before the actual wedding day. "Asians" Zayn had remarked at Liam when asked, and apparently that was answer enough.

"Asians, specifically South Asians, tend to have really big families, love, we tend to show our love and celebration through parties and ceremonies such as these. Worry not, you'll fit right in," Trisha had filled him in with the necessary information after he had huffed at Zayn for the lack thereof. He had nodded knowingly, though still quite confused, but determined to stick through it.

And here he was. A Pakistani folk song played through the speakers set up at the back of the room, which was decked out in yellows and golds and gentle greens ("Colours usually associated with mayoon," a cousin of Zayn's had informed him). There was a circle of little girls, dressed in beautiful yellow and green dresses, dancing around and giggling uncontrollably. The adults around them were spurring them on with enthusiastic, rhythmic clapping. It was a beautiful scene, one Liam wouldn't forget any time soon.

He turned back to Zayn," I was just wondering, though, you never told me why everyone, including us, is wearing yellow? Even your cousin, the bride is? What's the deal with that?"

"Well, that's what mayoon is, really, it's just this ceremony where the bride is supposed to wear yellow and have her hands covered in mehendi and her family will sit around her and sing songs and just be festive, I guess," Zayn shrugged as he talked, hoping to inculcate more of his culture into Liam. He moved in closer to Liam and touched his lips to his ear. Liam shivered and leaned in to hear.

"C'mon, I wanna do something fun, follow me," he whispered in his ear and held out his hand. Liam raised his eyebrows at him. This was not the time for that.

Zayn rolled his eyes at him. "Don't be a pervert, babe, I didn't mean it like that, just come with me, c'mon now," he dragged Liam towards the busy party, people flocking about on the dance floor, a pair of cushioned armchairs set up festively, draped in soft yellow and gold tulle. The bride and groom were off their thrones for the moment, busy socializing and talking to all their guests.

Zayn dropped heavily onto one of the two chairs, limbs askew and rested his head on the padded back. He signaled Liam to do the same who was a bit cautious, looking around to locate the bride and groom, checking to see if maybe he was being rude taking their seats? Slowly, when no one turned around to glare at him, he lowered himself onto the armchair with a quiet sigh, although judging by Zayn's answering grin, he may have been too loud. Oh well, he was tired, standing around for so long would do that to you.

He was so relaxed that he never noticed Zayn's sister, Doniya, sneaking up on the two of them, and it wasn't long before she stood towering over them, eye lashes fluttering prettily as she grinned at Liam. "You comfortable, then?" she asked Liam, a mischievous grin etched on her familiar features.

Liam stiffened slightly, preparing his body to get up quickly off the armchair, oh great you've gone and done something wrong you knob, before Zayn was pushing him back down with his hand. "No, meri jaan, keep sitting, it's no problem, Doni's being a dick," he pushed Liam down so he was perched precariously once again on the chair, this time a lot more aware of the people starting to taking note around him.

"Yeah, meri jaan, keep sitting," Doniya giggled at the pair. Liam flushed at the use of endearment in such a sarcastic tone that he missed Zayn's glare at his sister.

She rolled her eyes,"Ya Allah, Zayn's jaan I mean," Liam felt like he should maybe melt into a liquid that could escape through the tiled floor below his feet. Zayn, the bastard, grinned satisfactorily up at her.

Doniya turned to leave, shaking her head exasperatedly at Zayn, singing along with the song playing "Oh, Jeeja!", a line that apparently shocks a reaction out of her brother, who practically breaks his neck to frown at her. She giggles and speed walks away, leaving Liam thoroughly confused at his boyfriend's reaction.

Across the room, Yaser turned around and noticed the two of them sat there. A deep, resounding laughter came from him as he noticed his son and his boyfriend, and nudged his wife and his friends who took notice too.

Giggles and snickers were heard all around, as the group made their way towards them, Zayn's father leading the way.

Liam's eyes widened at the sight of the fast approaching group and shoved an elbow into Zayn's side, perhaps a little too forcefully, if the hiss and groan from his boyfriend was to be heard. Liam didn't care, oh no, he very much would like to get the shite out of there. This can't be good, he thought as Yaser opened his mouth to talk.

"Ah, beta, sab theek thaak?", he directed his question in Urdu at his son, a wide grin on his face. Zayn stared up stonily at his father, a careful mask of expression on his face, before replying with,"Han, kyun nai? sab theek hai," ending his sentence with a careless shrug.

Liam narrowed his eyes at him, his boyfriend was acting suspicious, not to mention speaking in Urdu, a fact that he avoids doing so since Liam always feels left out.

Then, came a sentence that he never expected to hear out of his boyfriend's father's mouth,"Didn't know you were in such a hurry to be married, beta, that's all."

Liam whipped his head towards Zayn, who had suddenly taken a great interest in his nail beds, yeah right.

All around him, people burst out laughing at his boyfriend which left Liam even more confused than when Yaser started speaking. He noticed Liam's predicament and decided to explain,"In mayoon, those who sit on the chairs of the bride or groom, tend to get proposals within the year. Call it an old wives' tale, but we do it for fun sometimes."

He ended his explanation and turned to his son, who was still immersed in the absolute inconceivable science that was the structure of his nails. Yaser's lips twitched at his son's behaviour, ullu ko kuch nai sikhaya maine, before turning back to his party and leading them away from his boys, they needed the privacy for the conversation that followed.

Liam sat in silent shock, mouth agape and staring at his boyfriend of 6 years. Zayn wanted to be proposed to? Zayn wanted to get married?

A huff escaped him and he caught Zayn's sheepish and embarrassed expression, eyes flickering up to meet his then abruptly flitting away. Liam reached out to take his hand, a warm clasp and a gentle squeeze coaxed those beautiful eyes to meet his. A tentative smile from Liam and his boyfriend gave in, rolling his eyes at his idiotic behaviour and the act he pulled, as he explain to his boyfriend.

"I didn't know how to tell you, honestly, I sorta thought you might do it sometime soon, you know, but it's just- I saw Kainat getting proposed to and accepting it and planning her wedding and all that, and I just- I dunno, I guess I wanted that for myself too..." he trailed off mumbling and mincing his words, but Liam got the message loud and clear.

"All you had to do was say, babe. I thought you weren't ready and I didn't wanna push you but I guess..." Liam silenced his rambling, focusing instead on keeping eye contact with his boyfriend.

"I love you, babe, I do," he murmured assertively, squeezing his boyfriend's hand," and there is nothing in this world that is going to stop me from marrying your petulant arse."

"You love this arse," Zayn mumbled childishly, though a smile was already on his face. Liam only wiggled his eyebrows knowingly at him, getting a melodic giggle from his boyfriend. Before he could lean in to kiss the stupid smile off his face, Liam was suddenly assaulted with a gaggle of Zayn's cousins, all shouting in shrill voices "Liam, Liam, Liam, listen to me!"

Zayn silently turned to glare at them and widened his eyes at them and the eldest of them all shrunk back at the ferocity of it with a small 'oh'.

Aimen, Liam thinks her name is, turns back to him and repeats her plea, this time adding something at the end. "Liam Bhai, listen to us, please!"

Something short-circuited inside his brain, momentarily causing him to lose focus on everything around him. All that was ringing in his ears was the shrill, childish voice calling him 'bhai', a name Walihya sometimes calls her brother when she tackles him in a hug when they visit, a fond 'bhai' from the mouth of Safaa when Zayn eats sloppily at the dinner table, Trisha giggling silently at the disgust her daughter shows for her son's horrible eating habits.

Slightly emotional, and maybe a little love-drunk, Liam turns to Aimen, directing his entire attention to her. "What is it, love?" he asks her, ignoring Zayn who is sporting the biggest, goofiest and most douche-y grin his boyfriend has ever seen on him.

He looked smug. Yeah, yeah, thought Liam as he let Aimen pull him away from the 'magic' chair and into the swarm of family members all huddled on the dance floor.

Translations: Aaye laariye ni tera sehreya wala wyaanwan ayaa" (O darling bride, your handsome bridegroom has come to wed you)

Mayoon is a Pakistani pre-wedding custom during which the bride dresses in yellow and sits in seclusion before her wedding day. Nowadays, mayoon is a festive ceremony, sometimes with the groom as well, where people dress up in yellow or green, gather in a congregation and have something to eat, dance and sing all night long.

Jeeja means brother-in-law

sab theek thaak means is everything alright? han kyun nai? sab theek means yeah why not? its all good ullo ko kuch nai sikhaya maine means I haven't taught this idiot anything

Bhai means brother (used to refer to brothers older than you).

[ohmygillygoshoppler]

I decided to  write a little bit about a place where Demons and Aliens live together, a country on a planet I just made of for my DS fanfiction, which you can read here, https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11219274/1/Let-s-Draw-a-Picture

I haven’t really written a whole lot about demons and such, but I’m trying! Tell me what you think, it helps to get feedback.

Featuring Duleb, my akuma monk, and her mentor’s son, Otehp.

Duleb strode down the street, little Otehp tied tight to her breast with a sling, quietly cooing to himself. The streets here in Hena weren't as densely populated by people as Duleb would have thought. Most people rode bicycles, took the trolley, or coach wherever they went, so the roads were nearly empty. There were a few people in finely pressed suits walking down the boulevard. It unnerved her how relaxed everyone seemed as she walked on past, some were even so bold as to address her with a, "Good morning," or, "How do you do?" Perhaps these people were just so used to demons walking through the streets, they thought nothing of her. Oh well. It was nice not to get dirty looks from everywhere for a change. People seemed kind of nice here; they even seemed to know that she had infantry with her, and left her be.

People were actually out in the streets playing music. Music! Of all things! Small groups of men and women playing their brasses and singing merrily. There were times when It seemed this place was absolutely perfect and happy for a change. It was weird. Like, it made Duleb's skin crawl at first, but she watched them; watched the people preform. Some of them were older folks, a few younger men and their backup girls, one Premodana, and a child star.

Boy howdy, was the street of Platform 66 quite a show. There was literally nothing like this place. Chaotic in it's rowdy nature, yet cheerful in it's overall demeanor. Demons gathered from places from time to time and start trouble, whereas trouble seekers were looking for people to deal with among the day to day people. There were people there. Normal folks, just looking to get by with what lives they were given; there were the people who have done dark things and have a dark purpose; the innocents who have yet to make sense of what's going on around them; and the crazy folks.

Duleb felt out of place in any sort of setting, but this place was some sort of trip all on its own. Demons openly mingled with people in the streets; goodness, people were even treating some of the lesser ones like they would a companion or animal. It was weird. She made a great deal not to openly ogle at things that fascinated her, lest she do something offensive or let alone inconspicuous. But it was just such a weird place! There was no other feeling she could possibly assign this. It was just...

Angels could have walked up and down the street, and everything would have been fine, it was that weird.

Duleb watched the skies above her. Shadow Casters flew in haphazard, zig-zag patterns up above, one nearly bumping into the wall of a tall apartment complex. She'd seen those types of demons slithering around all over the Black Stone, being their planet of origin. They were the demons that flew blind and used their tongues to decipher where they were and how to maneuver through their surroundings.* The sight of a smaller shadow caster perching in somebody's window was frightening at first, but Duleb watched as the window opened and an elderly woman dumped a huge bowl of scraps onto the balcony. Duleb realized what the shadow caster had come for.

That didn't lessen her worry for that poor old woman...

She kept an eye out for other demons; tieflings, hell hounds, shard bound, and legion soldiers alike. From what she was told, there were demons from all walks of life in this particular country. Succubi and Incubi were everywhere, a few sprites here and there, but absolutely no akumas. Duleb quietly thanked Laniekea that she looked like a demon, now, or she'd be even more out of place.

The akuma woman towered over everyone that walked past, even a few sprites had to look up at her to meet her eyes. She had no clue how far and how fast she would grow, but Duleb was now almost seven feet tall, and growing. It was a serious problem that occurred to people that came from off planet and lived in the Black Stone for too long; they simply grew too big for their own bodies. Usually, sprites and succubi's hearts would grow too large for their chests, but for an akuma, the first thing you outgrow is your skull. Duleb had come to terms with this already, but one day, her brain would literally be too big for her head.

Turns out a lot of things happen to die that way. Funny.

Duleb nodded to the sleepy old man at the stairs to Reeth's and bowed, Holding the sling close as she entered the tavern. This time of day, there were many patrons at the establishment, and the overall ambiance was far different than the quiet murmurs of the handful of people and the occasional clatter of the dishes. This time, it was loud, Ladies up front up on the milk carton stage were singing a song about hexing an old friend. The way their voices carried sounded like something out of a dream, and the other men playing their instruments along were just as captivating. It was even better than the stuff going on outside, Gods, it was a small orchestra!

Duleb shrunk against the far wall and watched in blatant astonishment. Otehp began to fuss at all the sudden noise, so she started stroking his head to calm him. Cattie had actual staff; waiters and waitresses rushing this way and that, multiple cooks in the back, a god damned band, and what appeared to be security. She even saw Cattie herself up at the bar taking orders, and watched her hand out food to people at other booths. She rushed in and out of the kitchen, from one table to the next. It was busy.

Cattie's voice rang out over the loud din of the crowd, calling Duleb's name. A hefty mug in one hand, she waved the akuma over to the bar. Obediently, she followed. The bar was crowded with men and women talking and eating their meals, but were squished aside when Cattie waved them all out of the way. Duleb took a seat and leaned close when Cattie next spoke.

"Hey, you speak with Zazu yet? Dante told me you was workin' yo butt off last night." The succubus stopped to pour a couple their coffee. " Well? You get the job?"

"I'm not convinced otherwise. I was just on my way up to see him and ask." Duleb replied dryly. She was never too loud. "I thought it'd be alright to take Otehp up there, and-"

Cattie's big bright green eyes widened, looking to the sling at Duleb's waist and about dropped the mug of coffee in her hand; her eyes went wide and she gasped loud enough for the patrons at the bar to shoot over some concerning glances. Duleb herself even shrank back a bit. The succubus peeked over the bartop and into Duleb's lap, to where she then stuck in a finger and pulled back the cloth. She gasped again and hollered gleefully, poking at the barmaid beside her.

"She came up here to see me, and she brought that baby!"

Before Duleb could protest that the baby wasn't hers, she was already swarmed by succubi and Incubi all over. Everyone and their mother wanted to get a tiny peek at the baby, so it seemed. It was especially strange, considering people in this town didn't seem to get to enjoy children much, not having them around as much, but that was weird, too. Succubi, Incubi, and various other races breed, but keeping their children was another problem in Hena lately. Demons liked Daccubi children. Like, a lot. Kids get taken in Hena, so people don't tend to see children outside much. There have been riots over it, and people have often accused demonic residents of child endangerment, leading to beatings in the streets, and there was even a Teifling that was tied up and left to wait for the train.*

Babies were different; nowadays, they were few and far between, what with women no longer wanting to bear children, only to have them potentially stolen. There was actual fear if you had a child, demons would stalk your pregnant mate, and steal away their child, or worse. Duleb hadn't seen any kids in her days either, save for Ophelia when she was young, and a supercluster of Manol's various colorful daughters.

Two women stood up at the stage, singing while Dante played. Both Succubi, one a pale cream in skin and hair color, the other a bright orange and brown with much larger and noticeable horns. Their voices harmonized in a strange and wonderful way; like the voices she heard singing on the radios on the walk over here. Drums played, flutes blasted from behind the ladies, and people were all over the tavern dancing and throwing each other around. It was a sight unlike anything Duleb had ever seen.

All the noise started making Otehp fussy. He didn't much like loud things, and this place was singing. Duleb had to remind herself not to stare so openly, but couldn't help but be dazzled. Men were literally swinging their partners round and around their bodies, kicking and flying and flipping themselves about.* It was insanity. it was hilarious! It looked like so much fun.

Otehp started putting up another fuss, crying louder than he had before. Duleb held the child up and cradled him, whispering softly as she learned Manol do earlier, and nearby patron quickly got curious. Younger ladies at the bar suddenly swarmed, all asking at once if there was something wrong with the baby, of if he was somehow hurt or upset. The band had even stopped their performance, singers abruptly silenced on the stage, staring at the freakishly tall lady the the bar.

Now that she thought more on it, it made her nervous; she covered up the blue youth again and stared at the table. Cattie started rushing and shooing people away as she next spoke, " Alright, now, Imma start setting people on fire, y'all don't back up."

Duleb never liked to be the center of attention, and this reaction from one baby starting to cry was a bit much. Duleb then reassured that he was alright, and the people at the bat and other booths that had wandered over returned to their seats, all with relieved smiles and mild chatter. The band and the ladies at the stage then agreed to play something softer, so not to cause another fuss for him. How sweet. She had no idea a baby would grant her so much attention! It made her wish she had left him with his father while she left for town, but then again, Cattie seemed happy to see him. People were actually quite concerned about him, and it was... nothing like she had ever experienced before. Cattie even wanted to hold him. Duleb said no, but after a few pleas and some free breakfast, the other gave in, handing over the sprite son.

The other barmaids took over Cattie's work so she could sit at the bar with the baby, smiling at him and talking to him in a high-pitched, squeaky little voice. "What a teeny little cutie! He looks nothin' like ya, hun."

A little shrug. "Shouldn't. He ain't mine."

Cattie's smile slowly flew from her face when Duleb said that, clutching the little bundle ever closer to her breast. "Honey, you didn't steal this baby, did you?"

"No, gods, no! I don't want him, he's too damn cute for me to take out into public, anyhow." She joked, stroking the boy's black hair back. "Naw, he's my mentor's son. Name's Otehp. I'm just keeping an watch on him today while his father goes and attends some business. It's only for a few days."

"Otehp, huh?" Cattie repeated the name over and over, trying to get Otehp to look at her. She made a few strange faces and kissed his noseless face. He was smiling. He hadn't laughed at anything yet, mostly just stared and cried. She told Cattie as much, and she just explained that Otehp was a looker. He watched what he could to learn. She even said as much as he would grow up quiet and closed off from most people. Seemed like she knew a thing or two about kids.

"Do you have any children?" Duleb asked as Cattie scooped up Otehp in one arm and poured more coffee in another man's mug.

"Honey, every barmaid on this floor is my kid. The cook is my kid." She pointed over to the young Incubus sitting at the piano, playing his heart away with the music of the band. "Danté is my kid. Everyone working this floor is related to me. I hired all my kids since nobody else would, and now we're all here."

The the laborer and the alien sat at the bar and talked a long while about what the plan was for her once she was registered, and the following was a bit of a small conversation discussing what sort of benifits Duleb could retrieve from gaining citizenship in this counrty of all places.

Apparently, the demons here that ran the real Hell-controlled aspect of this country were smarter than most other, and more collaborative. Hena had something Hell wanted so badly, that their denizens were willing to be diplomatic and, in some retrospect, Considerate about this running this part of the planet in particular. Nothing like Nergal. Thea lien wanted to do what she could to stay and make a life for herself, and the laborer wanted to help. Cattie offered Duleb many numbers and addresses to visit to get the documentation she needs to get going and get settled. Housing assistance, financial aid, medical care, and even some schooling venues.

"He an incubus?" Cattie asked as she poured herself a large mug of coffee, bringing it to her lips as she cradled him. "Sure looks like one."

"No, He's sprite. He's got some sort of Daccubi in his blood, on his father's side, at least." Duleb replied around a mouthful of food.

"Oh, most definitely. Look at those eyes. He's got the fiery eyes of Death, ya know that?" she cooed, kissing his little cheeks all over, drawing out his first little bout of laughter. Both men and women at the bar alike broke out into great grins when they hear a baby's laughter over the delightful performance and din of the tavern. Duleb was one among them. Something about babies laughter was funny. It was so cute! The cutest and sweetest thing Duleb had ever rang in her ears. An alien sound; foreign in almost every way. Like hearing some person speaking a language Duleb had never heard,

Cattie pulled back the cloth swaddling him, to get a better look at him, and nearly lost it when she notices the extra pair of arms on the infant. She giggled like a giddy little girl, claiming she'd never seen a sprite baby. She clearly knew that sprites attended her establishments, she'd served hundreds in her life as a tavern owner. The sight of a baby sprite must have thrown her off.

"Somehow, I forgot that Sprites started off as babies!" she had said through her giggles. Duleb found herself laughing when a few patrons at the booth behind Cattie peered over her shoulder to see the baby themselves; taking off their hats and such.

Gee, this was such a weird and nice place.

Duleb leaned over the bar as Cattie took her plate from her. "Hey, why's this place so crowded anyhow? Not that it isn't a great business day for you, i'm sure, but, well, how come?"

"Oh, it's Saturday, honey. It's a day of rest every week, nine days, where everyone at the factories and mines and alchemical facilities got a day off, all to themselves. People like tavern owners, doctors and other services weren't so much as granted the opportunity to take a break. However, they usually got their beaks while the people who crowded their dens were hard at work.

Duleb understood how hard it must be to be a doctor or, hell, even Cattie; having to work pretty much every single day without a single day to just do nothing.

Duleb discovered that being from off-planet meant she absolutely had to go and see the doctors, since there were strict rules about demons carrying otherworldly diseases, and those people must be vaccinated to prevent the outbreak of any Hellish sicknesses. Duleb understood that completely, and actually looked forward to it. Perhaps she could get Manol and Otehp in for a shot, too. She didn't want to get sick, who did? She was aware of the fact that demons carried diseases, yeah, but had no clue this place had hospitals and doctors advanced enough to have invented vaccines to combat those diseases.

Cattie then wandered off, passing Otehp back to his "mother" and resuming her work. For a while, Duleb sat with Otehp and listened to the people lay their songs, talk to some folks, have some breakfast, and just relaxed for a while.

Duleb watched as a young man with a peg-leg was dancing with an older sprite woman. They were having a difficult time, since the woman had so many arms, but the grinning lad in the blazer was determined to make it work. They were laughing. Duleb thought about how it must be, dancing with one leg to carry you. He must have slipped a lot.

She suddenly remembered what she came in here for. The akuma turned this way and that, scanning the area for Cattie or perhaps Danté. Whichever knew Damion. She had something she wanted to give to the man whose job she took. She expected the tavern owner herself would know, since she knew just about everybody who worked and visited Platform 66.

[auskultu]

Hendrix: An Experience To Remember

Chris Welch, Music Maker, June 1967

POP NEVER loses its powers to produce surprises. Just as the community imagined themselves shock proof and immune to any new madness the Brethren of Beat might have to offer—along came Jimi Hendrix. Recently groups had almost become conservative institutions like Ascot or the Labour party. Members of the public had begun to yawn visibly when the usual succession groupies appeared in the news, denying drug charges, being named by tearful Wendy Binns aged sixteen of Liverpool: and photographed with Clarissa Shrimpots in the latest whirlwind romance.

It seemed as if all the steam had gone out of British beat—sensation-wise. It was reaching the stage where if Steve Marriott, Paul McCartney, Lulu and Engelbert Humperdinck had danced naked in Trafalgar Square fountains during the rush hour, shouting hedonistic slogans, they would barely have made a news brief in the Metropolitan Water Board Gazette, tersely indicating that the free flow of water remained unimpaired during the incident. Beat needed a new shot of real excitement, and it was injected late last year by the arrival from New York of one James Hendricks, guitarist, singer and showman extraordinary. Chas Chandler, the ex-bass player with the Animals turned manager, discovered the guitar playing sensation blasting away in Greenwich Village and brought him to England as Jimi Hendrix. A group called the Experience was formed around Jimi comprising bassist Noel Redding and drummer John "Mitch" Mitchell. After a few rehearsals the group were hurled into the maelstrom of Swinging London's discotheques and within days the talk among the In Crowd was: "But my dear, have you seen Jimi Hendrix?" And the girls got quite excited about it all as well.

At London clubs like Blaises and the Bag O'Nails, the Experience blasted out an earth shattering combination of blues, folk rock and general hot rhythm. It drew swarms of guitarists. Jeff Beck, Eric Clapton, Pete Townshend and whole legions of hippies stood on each others' shoulders in sweltering heat to witness the amazing spectacle of hairy Jimi, tiny Mitch and the Dickensian Noel gelling into one nerve blasting unit. And after the In Crowd had been duly impressed. the general public were let in by means of 'Hey Joe', which leapt as high as four in the Melody Maker Pop 50 of January 4 this year, and the follow up single 'Purple Haze'.

Who are these strange young men of the Experience? Why, whither and whence? These are questions that must be answered. Who is this Hendrix. who bites flaming guitars with his teeth, surrounded by deafening attendant sprites? Jimi's own background is rather steeped in mystery, which he does little to dispel. Happy, smiling, cheerful—Jim tends to skate blandly round his musical origins and influences. He is understandably more concerned with the present, rather than the past—or even the future.

Fuzzy haired Noel, who wears rimless goggles and plays bass guitar, admits that his musical career started fairly conventionally—in a school skiffle group. "That was when I was fourteen," said Noel, inhaling cigarette smoke and sipping Scotch when I went to meet the group at Jimi's London flat recently. "I went pro when I was sixteen and went ligging around England playing mostly jazz. Yes I did have an ordinary' job for a while. For two days I worked in a plastics factory making tracheotomy tubes. Then I went to Germany with a group working eight hours a night. We did radio and concerts and we could have done well but the group broke up.

"Then I was in the Loving Kind playing pure pop and we made three records. I left in June last year and I was broke for two months at home in Folkestone. Then I ligged around and came up to London with three quid and my guitar. I heard the Animals were having an audition for a guitarist. I saw Eric Burdon, but he was like a big star and I was too scared to speak to them. Then Chas asked me if I'd got a bass and I got the job playing bass with Jimi. It's funny how we get on so well," mused Noel. "Mitch likes jazz, Jimi is blues and I like rock-'n'-roll. It's amazing the way we play all that music together!"

Mini-Mitch the transistorised drummer started his showbiz career very early, and was in fact the Bisto Kid on telly-ads and even an original Ovalteeny-bopper. "I was always keen on drums as a kid," says Mitch. "I had toy drums when I was three or four. When I was ten I went to drama school and I was lucky because Rediffusion was just starting then and I did TV jingles for about two years. I was the Bisto Kid and the original Ovalteeny Bopper.

"I didn't know whether to stay at drama school or be a musician, then the Ivy League called me up and I went along and did 'Funny How Love Can Be', and all those things. I also did demo sessions with a group that became the Riot Squad but it just didn't work out. Sessions are a dead end thing and the best thing that happened to me was meeting Denny Cordell who knew Bill Eyden was leaving the Blue Flames. Bill wasn't very happy and I went and played with the band at Sussex University. Then Georgie asked me to turn up with my drums at the next gig and Bill wasn't there. Nobody ever said I had joined, so as far as I was concerned I was always on trial. I was very green. I wasn't given any help at all, but nobody could help and it did me good. I get on much better now with Georgie than when I was in his band. He had his own problems as well. I was going to leave the Blue Flames three weeks before it ended.

"I was very brought down after that then Chas phoned me up and said he had this guy Jimi. I had never heard of him but I went along. What surprises me is not how quickly it all happened, but how the band has changed since we started. We all want to progress all the time. What is a drag is the snobbery in jazz in Britain. They don't realise half the jazzmen in the States like Kenny Burrel do pop things as well. Music is music and people like Roland Kirk could come and have a blow with us because we are all interested in sounds. If you are a musician, you are a musician, and should play everything.

"It's the same as the blues fans. They are just as snobbish." Said Noel: "I don't think you can class our music. We are a meeting point between jazz and pop."

"When we go into the studio we never rehearse anything." said Mitch. "We never know what we are going to do in advance. We're a pretty raw group." Jimi, the kingpin of the group, is a guitarist and singer in the American tradition of blues showmen. Jesse Fuller has his Fotdella, a complex one man band machine. Jimi Hendrix plays guitar with his teeth. "I learned guitar from records and the radio," said Jimi studying the burnt out wreck of his guitar which burst into flames on the opening night of the Walker Brothers tour. "I never had any lessons. When I was seventeen I got a group together. I've never worked in offices or anything. I started playing around the South where I heard the blues. The first group I played with... oh God, I can't remember their names. I played in Nashville with a guy called Gorgeous George. He got me on some tours with B.B. King and Jackie Lewis.

"Then I played in a group in Greenwich Village and we were very popular. We played a blues style. Then I met Chas who asked me to Britain. He seemed like a pretty sincere guy, so I came. We formed the Experience and we're still experimenting.

Jimi played some rough acetates of tracks off their first LP—Are You Experienced.

"I want the album to show how we play in person," he explained. "I don't necessarily want it to be perfect. Most of the time we play the songs I write, but the boys are getting their little tunes together now. 'Purple Haze' was one step on the way to getting our own personal sound. But we have so many moods. We play exactly the way we feel. And I write about everyday things, and change the words a bit to make them commercial. We're happy playing together as a three piece. A few months ago we were going to add an organ, but that would have made us sound like any other group. I'm pretty happy right now. It's true we're one of the loudest groups around. It can be a fault to be too loud. But we don't mean to play loud. In fact we do play softly as well. You've got to have dynamics in songs. We just have so much trouble with amplifiers.

"I started using feedback first of all in the Village. I used a Fender amp. and an old extension loud speaker. It made the weirdest sounds. I'm so tired of 'Midnight Hour' things. I used to play them myself, but you still see groups in clubs that play the same things night after night. Everybody sings the same old songs and there's no variety. Why don't they write some of their own things? Anybody can write a nice little blues riff.

"We do get tired of our own numbers as well. I wrote 'Foxy' so long ago, what we are doing today is as different from that as night from day. Our music is getting uglier. I get my inspiration for songs from everyday things... and girls. Girls can misunderstand you so much—they really can. But it's nice to have them around. One song I wrote is about a girl I used to know. I think she's an acid head now—and much nicer.

"I think this group will stay around," mused Jimi. "The music is free form, and it has variety. I just wish I could sing really nice, but I know I can't sing. I just feel the words out. I try all night to hit a pretty note. But I'm more like an entertainer and performer than a singer."

Does Jimi dig much jazz?

"I dig if it's axes, and I like free form jazz like Roland Kirk and Mingus. But as far as that other stuff—playing standards all the time—no. Mitch is a jazz addict and he keeps on about this cat Elvin Jones all the time. I really would like to meet Roland Kirk and I'd like him to play with us. If people read this they'll say: That guy must be joking', but I really think we are doing the same things. We have different moods and I think some of the moods are on the same level that Roland Kirk is doing."

[thatbadreviewblog-blog]

Blossom- Milky Chance Review

Milky Chance crashed onto both the indie and mainstream scene very quickly with their melancholy folk album Sadnecessary. Their top hit Stolen Dance was on the charts for months, and the album itself was loved by critics, and listeners worldwide. The German group have now released their much anticipated second record titled: Blossom. The group have taken a different, more upbeat approach to their music in this new record. Instead of the depressing folk, it is a more chill, upbeat, and funky record. Let’s get right into it: 

Blossom

The record opens with this very upbeat, and funky tune. The song is very Milky Chance with a nice clean guitar riff, and a funky beat to it. The song flows very well with a clear chorus, and verse. It is repetitive, but has been done tastefully so, and not out of laziness. It is a nice song with some very bright lyrics that welcome you into the record with a warm tone. The vocals are nice and clean. They blend with the instrumentals quite nicely to create this very sweet, and uplifting feel to the song. It is a great opener to the album, and introduces audiences into the style Milky Chance are experimenting with in the album. 

8/10 

Ego

This is very similar to Blossom in feel. The style of the album has now properly been established. The song is a lot more simple than Blossom, but works for the song. It is also structured quite well with parts of the song being clear. The chorus is quite repetitive, but like Blossom it sounds like a more artistic choice than just Milky Chance being lazy. It is not anything special, but is a light listen. 

6.5/10 

Firebird

This is one of the best songs on the album. From opening to the end, the riff is incredibly catchy, and gets better as the song progresses. The song is a lot more complicated than the previous two, but is not as upbeat. The opening of the song is nice, and surprisingly translates well into an acoustic riff. The build of the song is slow, subtle, and incredibly effective for the song. The guitar solo is also a nice touch to really complete the song. The vocals in this song fit very well with the rest, and adds to the chill atmosphere of the song. 

8.5/10 

Doing Good

The best part of this song is the chemistry between vocals and instrumentals. Clemens shows off his connection between the music well. The only problem is it does not quite contain that kick the previous songs, and is structured very questionably. The song changes very suddenly, and is unclear what section of the song it is. Something the previous songs did really well. It is a nice song, but lacks anything to make it special. 

6/10 

Clouds

This is a very nice song. It has an interesting and different sound, but fits the chill vibes the album has. This experiments with different styles the group previously have not tried, but have nailed these things quite well. The song, like most of the other songs, have structured it really well with clear sections. It’s a nice addition to the album with a range of pleasing effects. 

7.5/10

Cold Blue Rain

This song is not as upbeat as the previous songs, but still fits in well with the rest. It has a lot of experimentation with different vocal styles, and instruments that work well for the song. It is a sad song that feels uplifting. The lyrics are sad, but the instrumentals are bright. A contrast that really works well for the song. 

7/10

Stay

Stay is simple. It’s a sad acoustic song with a haunting riff that compliments the very desperate cries of Clemens singing about him wanting a certain person to stay with him. Who this person is remains ambiguous, but it really does work with the mellow acoustic guitar and Clemens vocal work. It has a different feel to most songs, but still fits with the album well. 

8.5/10

Bad Things

Like other tracks: this has a lot of experimentation with things Milky Chance has not used previously. One thing in particular is the introduction of another singer; Izzy Blue. Blue is great on this track. She blends with Clemens very well to create a nice dynamic between the two. The song tells a story of a couple that use each others company to drown their problems, which is a very beautiful concept. The song has a nice book ending that wraps it up quite nicely. 

8/10 

Cocoon

This song captures the vibe the album is trying to create very well. It is very uplifting with sweet lyrics, a funky beat, and Clemens signature vocals. It is not a different or special song, but it is a very fitting song that the album needs in order to establish its sound. Its just plain good in a very Milky Chance way. 

8/10 

Losing you

This is the worst song on the album. Its not bad by any means, but its not of the quality the previous songs have been at. It jumps around too much from different feelings making it jarring, and has some very bland vocal work in it. It feels like a filler song with no clear sound the song wants to capture.

5.5/10 

Paripeteia

This is the most experimental song on the album. It has a Western vibe to it, but has nothing to do with anything of that nature. The lyrics are the most redeeming part of it, but the song does lack something. The first and second verse feel incomplete with a quiet riff, and haunting harmonies, but it needs more than just that. 

7/10

Alive

The song is good. It has a nice riff, some well done vocals, average lyrics, and some effects that mix nicely. The only problem is it is forgettable compared to the rest of the album. It is not bad, but is not at the quality the rest of the album is on. 

6/10  

Piano Song

Other than the extremely creative title, the song is good. If this really fits in with the rest of the album is debatable, but ultimately; it does feel like a Milky Chance song. It’s a sad song, as most piano songs from artists like Milky Chance are, but this has a lot of charm, and emotion than previous songs have had. Stay is the only song that compares to the feeling that this song creates. 

8/10 

Heartless

The song combines almost everything Milky Chance have introduced in the album in one song that closes the album well. It has some strange areas, but the clever instrumental work make up for it. The vocal work is not Clemens best, but still not his worst either. It closes the record well, but still itself is not an amazing song. 

7/10 

Overall the album has a very different sound and feel to it than Milky Chance’s previous work had. It is more upbeat than the depressing themes of Sadnecessary, and feels more alt rock than indie folk. The album is structured strangely with no flow of songs, just random songs playing in no pattern. It ruins the feeling as the sad songs are really great, but are surrounded by upbeat songs, so it does confuse listeners. The vocal and lyric work are average with some songs being vastly better than others in that area. In overall quality; most songs keep in a certain range of 6-8.5. The album is good. It is a light listen, and creates some very bright vibes that make them hard to hate. It’s not better than their previous record, but it isn’t worse either. Just different. 

7.5/10 

[martibaecker1-blog]

Pop Music Genres Record

Music actually began to separate into different categories throughout the Modern period (1910-2000). But Nashville hasn't at all times been welcoming towards pop and electronic music. In the early 2000s, now-defunct record sellers Cat's Music made a killing off Drum Machines Have No Soul" bumper stickers, a rallying cry for Volvo-driving rockists throughout the Midstate. In 2008, when a particularly rowdy Girl Discuss present at Cannery Ballroom ended with a busted stage and flooded places of work under, the venue's house owners stepped away from booking non-rock gigs. We are a rock 'n' roll venue, and we are going to play rock 'n' roll reveals from right here on out," Todd Ohlhauser told the since-folded native entertainment weekly All of the Rage at the time. Thus, we can satisfyingly answer our first question about whether or not there may be significant clustering of genres in any respect and might move on to our second: style choice on MySpace displays substantial structural patterning, and people patterns cohere around three musical worlds, two of which may be decomposed into sub-complexes, or genre communities. We carried out a placebo take a look at to ensure that the modularity observed within the MySpace community will not be due simply to network density, randomly rewiring the network 1000 occasions. Whereas the modularity coefficient for the precise MySpace network is zero.31, the average modularity for our a thousand random simulations is only04. This very dense network exhibits almost no modularity in any respect when its edges are randomly allotted. Thus, the clustering patterns we observe within the MySpace network are extremely unlikely to be attributable to random likelihood. Progressive Rock - Progressive rock is a very common and intertwined genre history of modern music book music which acquired its start in the late 60s, and continues to this day. Progressive rock is usually lumped along with other related genres like artwork rock, symphonic rock, and progressive heavy steel. The artists attempt to take the roots of rock and apply them to a extra classically influenced construction. The music is often very elaborate and generally requires very distinctive musicians with a great deal of talent. It is not uncommon for prog rock pieces to be very prolonged in some circumstances they are over an hour in length. Okay-pop has all the time been a wierd hybrid of Korean and Western culture. The music has drawn on US genres, however the extreme work ethic and administration system are a product of Korean culture and economy. The new management of Big Hit Leisure seems to be an surprising swing in the direction of more US-fashion norms, which can unintentionally be serving to BTS to interrupt that market. The fact that they co-wrote the music would definitely be a significant factor in the US market, particularly for those who worth ‘authenticity' in music and wouldn't hearken to Ok-pop out of disapproval," Kim argues. However I do not think that was actually a deliberate plan by the corporate". My favourite music style would, for sure, be nation. I've grown up surrounded by country music due to my dad and mom and the rest of my family hearken to it rather a lot. I've also been to a variety of concert events and I think country artists and bands put on one of the best exhibits of any style of music. One factor I really like about country music is that there are country songs for each emotion and every event. Country music relates to a never ending record of people and that is why I adore it so much.

Not all hit singles are produced by pop artists. They're additionally produced by artists from many other genres like nation music singers Carrie Underwood and Taylor Swift, rock teams Radiohead and Foo Fighters, folk singers Bob Dylan and Mumford & Sons, singer-songwriters Elton John and Ed Sheeran, contemporary R&B and soul music artists Beyonce and Adele, dance-music artists Daft Punk and Skrillex, and hip hop artists and rappers Kanye West and Eminem. Artists like these produce hit singles by writing songs that follow the pop-music components however embrace elements of their very own genre, and by doing this they'll create their own unique model of pop music. Take a look at the record of greatest-promoting artists beneath and spot what number of have experience in a couple of genre. It is artists like these who are almost certainly to create new styles of pop music in the future.Why does this happen? To search out out, Vitevitch and his team performed lists of phrases like lever battle furry candle" and gargle partner flutist lazy" for teams of round 30 college students. They stripped away things like intonation that might in any other case make these lists sound more musical. And so they grouped the words randomly quite than using them in a sentence. In addition they performed the scholars lists with completely different numbers of phrases and syllables, and word lists in Spanish. The scholars were told to rank how song-just like the word lists sounded.We covered what sort of restaurant background music to play during gradual dayparts. However when business is rockin' throughout peak intervals, you need a distinct approach. To show tables quicker, one often-referenced study recommends enjoying fast tempo music. In the study, when 62 sets of couples heard quick tempo restaurant background music, they believed they spent extra time on the restaurant than they actually did. This is nice for two causes: tables turned sooner yet guests nonetheless perceived that they spent a great amount of time eating. They did not feel rushed" out.Collier's music is stuffed with moments that elicit reactions resembling this, particularly from musicians. He has recorded dozens of dazzling videos on YouTube : staggeringly complex versions of jazz and soul requirements wherein he multi-tracks himself singing multiple vocal harmonies and enjoying multiple instruments. Since posting the first film when he was 17, they have been considered tens of millions of occasions, earning him a call from an impressed Jones (who ended up signing him to his administration firm, Qwest), together with rapturous reward from artists as various as Chick Corea, Pat Metheny, kd lang, David Crosby , Raphael Saadiq and Leslie Bricusse.Whether or not the content of certain kinds of music and the conduct of certain artists ought to be restricted as a public menace is a serious query for the BPS to be considering, along with the wider challenge of whether or not loud music with violent, sexist and racist lyrics - defined by sociologists as ‘problem music' - is detrimental to the psychological well being of vulnerable young folks. Whether it is, there can be a robust argument for censoring pop lyrics and imposing stricter broadcast and border controls.

[themusicenthusiast]

Thursday, August 23rd, 2018 - Pedigo’s Magic Pilsner Shares Raw, Personal Stories and Witty Banter with Listeners at Lexus Box Garden at Legacy Hall

Photos by Jordan Buford Photography 2018 has been quite the year for Pedigo’s Magic Pilsner. The group that was founded by John Pedigo (one half of the Dallas-based duo The O’s) released their debut self-titled record back in March, and more recently they even took a little jaunt around the Midwest, supporting the Old 97’s for a handful of dates. Even if it’s just personal milestones (and really, that’s all that matters in the grand scheme of things), they’ve accomplished a lot in the year or so that they’ve been together; and on this Thursday night the quartet was returning to the stage of the Lexus Box Garden at Legacy Hall to entertain patrons with their brand of country/Americana. The turnout was decent for a Thursday night, a few dozen or so people scattered about the actual Box Garden, while more were perched on the balconies of the second and third levels of Legacy Hall that overlook it. Pedigo’s Magic Pilsner would wind up sharing all of their intimate stories (and then some) with the people this night, using the atmospheric and equal parts ethereal and dynamic “Orion” to launch them into the 84-minute long set that that they had planned.

What immediately became apparent was the significant emotional weight that these songs boasted in the live environment. It’s noticeable on the record – which is arguably the most compelling thing about Pedigo’s Magic Pilsner – but live the feeling and gusto packed into the music was so much more prominent and palpable. “I need you. I’ll never ask again. I need you to fight, sometimes it’s right to say goodbye.” That refrain was steeped in emotion that came straight from the heart and did an excellent job in setting up everything that they had planned for the show. “Let me check out the ol’ set list,” Pedigo said aloud as he peered down at the piece of paper. He chuckled. “That’s a good song!” he remarked, somewhat having fun as he initiated the banter that would be a fixture of their show while also seemingly attempting to hype up those who were most receptive to what they were doing on stage.

The first few numbers found them going down the track listing of their album, the poignant “The Comedian” highlighting what a robust rhythm section Trey Pendergrass and Rocky Garza – the drummer and bassist, respectively – were as they injected the track with some raw power. Pedigo embraced that, breaking free from the mic stand when he could and pacing about the stage, often picking at his acoustic guitar in an aggressive manner. “Where's The Fire” was even more conducive of that, allowing Pedigo to channel his inner rock star, particularly when he suddenly grabbed his guitar and brandished it in the air. It felt wild. Chaotic even. Chad Stockslager infused that track with some soul and even a hefty groove as he hammered away on his keyboards, appearing totally spellbound by the moment, his mastery of the instrument evident.

The jokes continued as Pedigo was setting up another song of theirs, noting that they had done a music video for it that could be found on the internet. “…You can find almost anything there…” he continued, using Garza as an example, essentially saying he had everything at his fingertips, just as soon as he “fires up AOL” Having so much time to fill, and armed only with ten songs that comprise their debut record meant that there was a healthy serving of covers peppered in throughout their set. Many of those found them changing things up a bit, Stockslager taking up the role of lead vocalist. “The Image of Me”, made famous by Conway Twitty, was one such song – their selection of covers mostly focusing on classic country standards. Stockslager’s smooth, announcer like voice was perfect for songs from that bygone era, allowing him to evoke the spirit of those original renditions while also adding his own touch to them.

He also often acted as spokesman for the fine establishment that is Legacy Hall. “I hope everyone is easting some of the best food of their lives,” Pedigo remarked at one point, Stockslager quickly following that up with, “Out here at Legacy Hall that’s not hard to do…” and subsequently shouting out the “sweet and savory barbecue” that one of the food stalls offers. You had to be there in order to fully appreciate it, though it was quite entertaining. Moments like that provided a sort of relief from the more somber tones that accented some of the songs. That doesn’t necessarily mean they were sad, more just raw and honest, Pedigo having penned a host of songs that are real, touching on several facets of life, such as “Warning Shot”, which was steeped in heartache and delved into aspects of mortality, death and what comes after.

Pedigo did keep the lead for some of the later covers in their set, which included a great rendition of Merle Haggard’s “Working Man Blues” that was simultaneously true to form yet also had Pedigo’s Magic Pilsner’s own twist to it; while “No Better Than You” began setting them up for a striking finish as they entered the homestretch. It included several “spicy meatballs!”, in the words of Stockslager. “That one’s called ‘No Better Than You’. That’s why we kept saying it over and over,” Pedigo said real matter-of-factly, the drier side of his sense of humor shining through. After a couple more covers they arrived at their final number, “Wet The Line” being nothing short of triumphant, providing a sort of silver lining to a show that was teeming with emotional highs and lows and took those who were watching on a brief journey. Pedigo, Stockslager, Pendergrass and Garza took advantage of that. Coalescing, their chemistry became more robust than it had been at any other point this night, transforming that cut into a wall of sound. Their enthusiasm had a lot to do with that, radiating from them by that point, and that was no more noticeable than with Pedigo, who, in the final moments, proceeded to ferociously attack his guitar, even somewhat shredding before removing it and holding it above him in a victorious fashion. It was fitting, as they had just conquered the Box Garden, giving it everything they had in them in the process.

To reiterate an earlier statement, the live show is where it’s at for these guys. Pedigo’s Magic Pilsner is an excellent listen, though as great as the recordings may be, it’s the live environment where they’re their most potent. The grand scale of the emotion was immense, Pedigo, in his somewhat twangy voice that’s marked with a light Southern accent, investing himself fully in what he was singing and striving to make onlookers feel the depths he and his band mates were digging into. It was a personal and intimate experience because you could tell how these songs were practically sacred to him, Pedigo bearing a bit of his soul during the process of performing them. That’s something of a rarity these days, seeing an artist give that much of themselves or even work to connect with people in that manner and it didn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated.

Point is, seeing a Pedigo’s Magic Pilsner show will definitely be entertaining, and not just because the musicians have a good rapport amongst themselves that leads to some witty banter. Pedigo has surrounded himself with other veterans of the D-FW music scene; and while his solo endeavor may be in the same musical realm of what he has done (and continues to do) with The O’s, it also explores new territory. There are spirited Americana songs that are conducive of dancing (at least one patron was spotted doing some of that on this night), while others more closely resemble traditional country numbers or even folk songs, the singer/songwriter aspects of them being prevalent. Still in the same wheelhouse of what fans have come to expect from him, yet unique enough that it highlights different aspects of his abilities as a musician. Even at a place like Legacy Hall, where patrons are as likely to be caught up in conversation with friends as they are the music from whatever act happens to be on stage, Pedigo’s Magic Pilsner managed to turn a few heads, and rightfully so. It was a barn burner of a show. Stay tuned to their FACEBOOK for news of other upcoming shows; and check out/purchase their record on iTUNES or GOOGLE PLAY.

[gokoulane]

I know it ain’t right, but I enjoy finishing my tasks in the nick of the moment, just like this blog post. It does give me a kind of rush.

Day 8 – 25th May 2017

It seemed to have rained the last night also. The place was damp and much colder when I woke up. In spite of sleeping bag and blanket, I felt my body struggling to cope up with the cold temperature out there. Though I got up early, I didn’t dare to step outside our tent until the sun showed up. Some hot tea and Chole Bhature made things better for me. It wasn’t only us from YHAI who were camping there, there was also a camp by another organizer nearby. Why I am mentioning this is, while I was returning to my tent after my breakfast, I saw folks from both the camps happily dancing the Garba (a traditional Gujarati dance) outside our tent. It was fun watching them go round and round dancing those simple yet elegant steps in total sync. Then we cleaned out tents, packed our bags and started to the highest camp of this trek.

The dawn breaks

It’s still cold out there

Chole Bhature

With no doubt, it was the steepest route uphill on this trek. Though the altitude change was only 1300 ft compared to 1900 ft and 1600 ft in the last two days, we had to gain it in the short distance of just 5km. That was definitely a challenge. After a slow and steady climb, we reached our lunch point. Unlike the other lunch points, this one was tucked in between a crack on the mountain. The only common factor was a tiny shop that sold Maggi and Biscuits. Seems Maggi is inevitable in the mountains. Totally, the most frightening lunch point on the whole trek. We were even able to view our Mingtatch camp and the other trekking groups from there. Our guide pointed to a flag, not so far away and told that’s our next camp. With a clear target, we marched towards it. In not more than an hour, we reached the highest camp of this trek, The Nagaru Camp (12,500 ft).

View from lunch point

The other group – View from the lunch point

Maggi, the inevitable

The flag of Nagaru

Once reaching the camp, everyone began calling their parents and their loved ones as they had the cellular reception in one particular spot. But, yours truly was quite stubborn not to use my mobile until the trip gets over. We were served Guava juice as the welcome drink and served tea and fried peanuts later. As we reached quite earlier, we whiled away the time singing and chit chatting. While I was in my tent, I heard some splashing sound. Initially thought it was raining. But to my surprise when I opened my tent flaps, I witnessed the first hailstorm of my life. It’s not just that, we were lucky enough to witness a double rainbow too. Wow, what a mesmerizing view it was. Yet another goosebumps-inducing experience of this trip. We slept early by 7 pm post our early dinner by 6 pm cos we must rise as early as 2 am the next day for one of the most exciting parts of the trek. That’s how an yet another awesome day came to an end.

Camp Nagaru

Friend groundnuts

Tea, Hot Tea.

Tea With Sharon

The double rainbow

Day 9 – 26th May 2017

Waking up at 2 am is absolutely fine, but how about having your least favorite Rava Upma for breakfast at 3 am. My taste buds might have instantaneously rejected it, but my survival instinct thought the other way. The snow melts when the sun starts to shine and that would make the trek extremely difficult. So, we had quite an early start around 3.30 AM that day. Initially, it was too dark and most of us had torchlight or headlamp for the rescue. I was fascinated by the scene when the dawn broke. We were surrounded by snow and for me, the first snow of my life. It was my dream forever to see, touch and feel the snow. My excitement level was high and was overjoyed to realize my dream. That was one memory that will be etched in my memory forever.

The 2am Upma

Dark trek

The breaking of dawn

The gang

After more than a couple of hours of trek, we reached the summit of the trek, the highest point of the Sar Pass (13,799 ft). With all the sides covered with snow, we took a lot of pictures. The joy of reaching the summit is beyond description and you feel just being on the top of the world. I would say, that joy is worth going through all the pain.

Feel of being on the top of the world

Glasses Not mine

The joy

The only flag that I salute

The Sar Pass is the route that connects the summit of Tila Lotni and Biskeri Ridge. So, we had a lot more to cover to reach our next camp Biskeri, predominantly on the snow. The snowy ice surface was very slippery and the poles helped extensively. In the middle, we halted at a shop that sold tea and Maggi for some rest. To the contrary, being surrounded by the snow, we were all totally restless and started playing with it. Either be it throwing snowballs at each other or making snow angels, I thoroughly enjoyed every bit of it. It was all fun, fun and fun. That place also had a small lake and the view of the sky reflecting on it was priceless.

The snowy and the slippery

These mountains got snow blankets

Snow Angel

Reflection

The terrain

After an hour from there, we reached the edge of the Sar Pass. Here comes the best part of the whole trek, an 800 Mts free slide down the snow. I was anxious when I saw my friends sliding down. It even worsened when my buddy rolled down instead of sliding. Then came my turn and I felt the adrenaline rush. Wow, what an experience sliding down the snow and the cold wind caress the skin. We were too tired by then and somehow pushed ourselves to reach the lunch point a kilometer ahead. We could see the snow around slowly being replaced by rocks and grasses.

Out of hunger, I munched the packed lunch and took a brief rest at the lunch point. My legs were sore and the rest was highly relieving. I also met a few porter women. In spite of carrying heavy backpacks of the trekkers, anywhere between 20 – 30 kgs per person, they had their warm smile intact. So much respect to them.

Finally, the lunch point

So much respect – The porter woman

From there, within an hour we reached our next camp, Beskari (11,000 ft). It felt like an accomplishment completing the most grueling and demanding day of the trek. To give a snapshot, it was a total of 14 km and an elevation change of 1,300 ft uphill and 2,800 ft downhill. That’s quite a lot for a single day. We were served hot tea and Pakodas for the evening snacks as soon as we entered the camp. The rest of the time was spent on playing UNO. Then, as usual, sleep followed the dinner. I dozed of badly wanting the next day to begin, one of the significant days for me in the year. That’s how a yet another awesome day came to an end.

On the way

The wild sheep chase

Camp Biskeri

To Be Continued…

Trip To Remember – Trekking Sar Pass – Part 4 I know it ain't right, but I enjoy finishing my tasks in the nick of the moment, just like this blog post.