Tape five city of lights electro swing free download

Robin Thicke vs. Parov Stelar 2. Cold War Kids vs. Caravan Palace 3. Skeewiff 4. Parov Stelar 5. Beastie Boys vs. Parov Stelar 7. Catjam — Toxic Swin g Britney Spears vs. Catjam 8. DJ AG 9. The Andrews Sisters Joan Caramba — Basket Case No.

Lou Bega Jimi Needles Vladimir Sterzer Parov Stelar Minimatic — No Swinggity Blackstreet vs. Minimatic Caro Emerald Cheeky Belles Step into our Time Machine to experience new music in the style of the early and midth century. But be discrete, it might be the exclusive in Hush Hush Magazine the very next day! The message is a light, positive vibe! Brought to you with elements of swing, electro swing, jazz, dixie, latin, funk, hip-hop, reggae, dub and tango.

Everything combined with a strong retro attitude. For maximum effect and because Zuko was no longer looking away from him like a coward, Sokka turned his largest pleading puppy dog eyes on him. As expected, Zuko turned away as quickly as he could, but the damage was already done. There was already a dusting of pink across his cheeks and he made a tsking sound before sighing. The number of times Zuko had caught his boyfriend smooth grooving to Jamie Berry in their living room was numbering closer to uncountable than not, and as many times as the older man would pretend to groan and complain about the swing preparedness of their carpet, they both knew that Zuko adored watching Sokka dance.

It was a bit uncanny how perfectly electro-swing suited Sokka. It was smooth and playful, but still required such an incredible amount of technical skill that Zuko sometimes felt his own street dancing just a bit silly in comparison. Sokka would always stare at Zuko like he had grown a second head whenever he voiced this of course. There would be times when Zuko would want to do nothing more than collapse in his bed with his back turned to the door and curl up under the covers alone, trying to brood away a bad day.

Then, of course, there would be the flip side when Zuko would find himself with an armful of Sokka after one of his sessions, which always left him sweaty and gross with the imprint of the gritty pavement on his palms. He literally oozed the bad boy aesthetic; his circa emo haircut, the fact that red was the only color in his monochrome wardrobe, his standoffish demeanor— his everything really.

But from then on, there were no more frantic tackles onto the ground from one paranoid boyfriend, although Sokka did still bite his nails worriedly whenever he watched Zuko attempt a new power move because babe, are you sure your legs are supposed to bend like that—. Think about the photoshoot we could have! But when Sokka gave an inch, Zuko went a mile, because the first time he had seen Sokka do the Swinging Charleston on their balcony, he had nearly gotten a conniption.

No matter how much Sokka said that it was for the views, Zuko did not want his flailing limbs knocking Druk off their balcony or for Sokka himself to go hurdling over the edge doing a spin.

They had grappled on their carpet and probably ended up getting more bruises than either of their hobbies would have given them in the first place. He abruptly cut himself off like he had only just realized what sappy bullshit he had let slip from his mouth, and Sokka could practically feel Zuko heating up in his arms. He smiled happily, eyes crinkling at the edges, and hugged his boyfriend tighter, trying to infuse all the stupid overwhelming love he had for this man into his arms.

But eventually, Sokka did convince Zuko of his swing proficiency and he tried not to hide a grin when he caught Zuko looking at him in the mornings, smiling like a fool as Sokka made them coffee in nothing but his sweats. He would toss Zuko a bone on those days, doing an extra shimmy or two with a laugh. Think more hip hop and funk. The other man settled on a song and placed down his phone before turning to face Zuko, taking pale hands into his own.

The beginnings of a jazzy step came drifting from the speakers, and Sokka shot his boyfriend an encouraging smile, swinging their hands from side to side. He tapped one of his feet on the hardwood in time with the beat, swaying his hips.

But before long, the older man found himself standing stiffly in the middle of the floor, doing nothing other than watching his boyfriend with a conflicted expression on his face.

He could burn up from the inevitable embarrassment right this second and gladly let the Earth claim him; black waistcoat and all. Zuko watched Sokka do an impressive set of footwork and even pull off his fedora in a flourish in time with the drop behind the wah-wah of a trumpet, the tails of his waistcoat lifting with him. Sokka swung a circle around Zuko, doing all the silliest moves he knew with a large goofy grin on his face and a waggle of his eyebrows.

The song had changed by then, another admittedly very catchy, but somewhat slower beat filling the room. He loosened his form further and sang along to the lyrics with a playful smirk on his face.

Said boyfriend did a small spin with his arms outstretched, ending it on a flourish with the start of the chorus. Leave it to Sokka to have such a nonsensical, endearing, but so oddly fitting song in his arsenal. The tune switched again, faster, and more upbeat. Zuko recognized it as the infamous tune he had heard more than once playing in the mornings alongside the buzz of their coffee machine. He thought about warm mornings and too much vanilla creamer, and let Sokka pull them around in time with steps that were decidedly not in a very swing fashion at all.

In fact, it seemed almost to lean even heavier towards the welcome familiarity of hip hop step, which You know what, Zuko could do that.

It was like breaking, just more upright. But soon they were whirling around the studio with nothing short of stupid teenage grins on their faces, Sokka singing along loudly to the tunes he knew by heart and Zuko daring to offer bashful reprises.

Eventually, the large floor-to-ceiling windows facing the outside grew dark and the only light was the fluorescent glow of streetlights and storefronts. Muted colors trailed after their feet, and they were left with nothing but soft light, the sigh of saxophones, and each other. Well into the evening, they swayed together to the sound of Tape Five, smiling and, despite it all, swinging.

Tui and La, he could feel all of his blood rushing straight down into his head. But then he let out a small squeak when his shirt slipped further down up?

He could , but at what cost? Tui and La, how did Zuko deal with all the blood rushing to his skull all the time?