#Flawless Friday Video

[holley4734]

Autogramm: Flawless Friday Video

@Autogrammband @NoRulesPR @ITHERETWEETER1 @musicblogrt @audiobloggers @urbandisavirus #musicvideo #newmusic #newmusicfriday

What could be more fun than hanging out with Sasquatch at a ski resort? Autogramm has the answer with the Flawless Friday Video, If you’re a fan of Bigfoot-related things and power pop, this musical offering from the Vancouver-based band could be your favorite video as well. It has Sasquatch, friendship and cool skiing tricks. Check out the video and links below. Autogramm…

[crazymadpassionatelove]

Cool Fiancè

Notes: 18+ sex mentioned

Special shout-out to @ab4eva and her fabulous editing skills! This is the second installment in my cool girl saga. Read Part 1 here

---

Five Things to know about Austin Butler’s New Fiance ::

Although his reps couldn't be reached for comment, sources close to the Elvis actor confirm he has popped the question to his mysterious lady love!

Butler and the stunning brunette were recently spotted at the iconic Les Puces market in Paris last Friday, and she seemed to be sporting a new accessory. Austin was dressed in a black leather jacket, a white v neck tee, and black moto boots. She was clad in a classic trench coat and vintage Dior kitten heels as she kept her head down and let the winner lead the way. His face was mostly obscured by aviator sunglasses, but his smile was very apparent according to onlookers. “Austin was holding her hand and pointing out jewelry at different booths. They were very friendly with local vendors and Austin ended up buying her a gold charm bracelet. He told the dealer the bracelet was a momento to celebrate their recent engagement,” a fellow American tourist overheard. The twosome reportedly spent the prior week soaking in the city of lights and meeting with the YSL fashion house. Austin was recently tapped as the brand's newest ambassador.

Since returning stateside paparazzi pics have finally surfaced and revealed a closer look at that ring. Montana based indie jeweler Jada Kaye has been revealed as the designer of that serious sparkler. The 5 carat, flawless emerald-cut emerald is set in solid gold and flanked by two white diamonds on either side. Inside sources told Elle Magazine that Kaye and Butler worked closely together to craft the one of a kind creation. There's even rumored to be an inscription on the inside that's significant to the couple and the ring is estimated to cost a cool $100,000. Austin's fiancè was photographed heading into a ballet studio yesterday wearing pink tights, a pink leotard, Ugg boots, and of course that ring. Her curly dark brown hair was slicked back into a bun and she seemed to be sporting a pair of the actor's sunglasses.

Here's everything you need to know about the future Mrs. Austin Butler;

She's from New England —

A, as she's known, was born in Rhode Island. She grew up splitting her time between Rhode Island and Kennebunkport, Maine. Her teenage years were spent working the local Del’s lemonade truck, former neighbors say. She attended the Rhode Island School of Design after high school but never graduated.

She and Austin met via her former job –

Whilst working at the New York location of Vibrant Vintage, A, served as the fashion archives buyer. She also happened to be on hand when Butler visited the store. Supposedly she helped him find the perfect pair of leather boots, and the rest is history. Things clearly moved quickly between the two lovebirds, with A relocating to Los Angeles not long after. According to Vibrant Vintage, she is no longer employed there but “remains a close friend and consultant,” says their PR team.

She's a hit with his friends –

She organized a birthday party for her man’s co-star and close friend, Callum Turner. Turner posted an Instagram story showing off a fairly large garden party celebration and a “homemade blueberry glaze cake” according to the post. “Huge thanks to Austin's lovely lady xx” accompanied the video footage. She and Austin were also seen dining with his other Masters of the Air co-star, Nate Mann, while in Paris recently.

They've (supposedly ) got matching ink –

An unnamed employee at the iconic Bang Bang tattoo in NYC has said that Austin and A made a late night visit to the tattoo studio. Where exactly are the said-to-be matching minimalistic tattoos? Reportedly, Austin was inked on his left hip and A on her inner left thigh.

Old fashioned love letters are her thing -

Notably social media shy, Austin and A have taken up the lost art of handwritten love notes. Sources exclusively say that custom monogrammed stationery was crafted for the duo whilst Austin was filming in England. The hand pressed, vintage inspired paper bears a unique coat of arms style symbol with intertwining letter A’s and two sparrows (Fun fact! Sparrows mate for life and always find their way back, no matter how far they fly). While separated, the couple often writes letters to one another, even having the letters sent via jet instead of mail for privacy reasons!

_______

Suddenly one morning articles begin to pour in about your engagement. It catches you off guard, that ring akin to a skating rink has been sitting pretty on your hand for a bit now. The engagement had happened so naturally as everything with the two of you seems to. In the early morning hours while his swollen, rock hard member thrusts into you repeatedly you begin to awaken. On your side, his teeth clamp down on your shoulder as his finger twirls round the curls at the nape of your neck.

His gasps and needy groans tickle your ear. “Couldn't help myself..”, he shudders as you suddenly clamp down around him, barely able to register it all. You stretch and arch, allowing him the room and space to take what he needs. It is his after all. His teeth and pillowy soft lips mark your shoulder blades and when you reach down to where the two of you are joined, you feel his very full balls. Your newly manicured fingers tease and tug the best you can, scrunched up like some sort of acrobat. “Ugh, ugh…baby… you're gonna make me -”. Then he does. Hot, viscous, cream floods you and makes you sigh in a contented whimper. “Thanks darlin’,” he pets your head and you close your eyes dreamily. That is until you hear him rustling around in the bedside table next to him.

You cock open an eye, figuring he's looking for smokes or even the book he had been reading late last night. Your hands are stretched above your head, gripping a pillow. The perfect position for him to suddenly slip the most gorgeous piece of jewelry you've ever seen onto your finger. When your eyes shoot open and you jump up, he's lying there grinning that smile that makes you weak at the knees. “Will you be my wife?” As if your answer would be anything but yes, please Daddy. You smother him in kisses, straddling him and giggling. It's the perfect moment, the perfect proposal. You were never one to want a fireworks display or heaven forbid, those ridiculous and wasteful walls of flowers other celebrities seem to have for every occasion. This private, simple moment is everything you could ask for.

You feel the sudden urge to take him in your mouth despite him just finishing. With your head hanging off the side of the bed, you take him down your throat. Choking and gagging, you really give it your all. Fighting to keep your eyes open so you can see the way his lip curls and his eyes slam shut. Talking is always your thing. This time, though, he's sputtering and rasping words of utter devotion and love. Promises to worship your body until the day he dies. My perfect, perfect wife. Soon you can't be sure if the tears are from his cock down your throat, or his beautiful words. Maybe both. Those pretty boy fingers twist and tug on your nipples and then crawl lower and flick that special spot. The only fireworks you enjoy happen, twice for you actually. He's so dutiful and charming, when you're done pulling yourself back together and fixing your hair, he's handing you a surprise glass of champagne. What a way to mark the occasion.

You decline a proper press announcement. Phone and FaceTime calls follow to those who truly matter to you both - your families, both absolutely thrilled. Then Baz, Cal, The Presley's, everyone can't stop gushing about how perfect you are for each other. That ring, oh how sweet he designed it himself. You come up with a family-appropriate story to describe the proposal and the evening that followed, conveniently leaving out the mind-blowing sex the two of you have all over the house and in the hot tub. Why do things feel so different now that you're engaged? You can't get over the way the light hits the ring as you stroke him and something in that dirty girl heart of yours feels like it's really, truly, official when you have to clean his cum off the stone.

He's due back to set for some reshoots a few days later and of course you follow. Bringing throw pillows from your living room to spruce up his trailer and plotting out how to plan the most private, under the radar wedding possible while you lounge in his trailer in a cute little dress you sew yourself from vintage scarves bought in London. Your newest hobby, that and the ballet classes. He yammers on and on about wanting to sneak in and see you dance. You're sure it's just the tights and leotards spurring his interest though, let's be real. The paparazzi are as relentless as ever, but head down with big sunglasses helps keep the chaos at bay.

You visit Disney World, a whole crew, the two of you, your families, friends with their little ones. Thankfully Disney security is familiar with celebrity guests and you can actually let your guard down for once. Which is good, because seeing Austin chase after your friend's newly toddling little ones makes your stomach flip flop with joy. You make a mental note to expedite the wedding plans, he makes it known that he's chomping at the bit to be a father. When you visit Main Street, you decide a pair of new Mickey ears are in order. Gold stitching with Mrs. Butler is what you finally decide on after Austin's encouragement, his hand on your lower back as you walk miles and miles around the park with hands full of churros and cotton candy. Sure, some overzealous fans snap cell phone pics of you with your ears and immediately post them to those ridiculous Austin fan blogs who've now decided you are the evil villain in his story. You won't allow them to burst your Disney bubble though. Your fairytale is just beginning after all.

__

[chaoticloving]

So... I had this funny request.. See.. What if Reader is a famous personality? Like they are an actor and a singer at an young age? Like they worked for movies like Harry Potter and marvel and then later on took singing as career option which resulted being an awesome choice as their music skyrocketed. So what if One directions manager arranged a collab with reader? And one direction was also a huge fan of her but Harry had a huge celebrity crush on reader which he had hinted alot of times in interviews which fans could see, reader didn't knew them well only that they were a famous band and she didn't knew their names too? as she was rather busy with her own stuff plus she didn't knew fans shipping her and harry? So when they all saw reader at the office because it was kept a surprise for them with whom they were gonna collab so Harry started fan girling? I mean it's just pure fluff and teen love?

Performance of a Lifetime

harry styles x reader

a/n: lil blurb for ya! changed it a bit! plus some cheesy h for you!

Harry’s never felt more excited in his life, entirely exhausted, but had that excited-about-to-vomit feeling inside of him while practicing this dance routine.

Its how all of one-direction was feeling at the moment. Wanting to drop dead like flys but not because they needed to impress a certain singer, joining them for a charity performance.

Y/n was a house-hold name, from a young age of being a child star, working her ass off to be taken seriously without being taken advantage of, she slowly dipped into the world of music before she started to become the face of the music industry. She was doing a joint performance with one-direction this friday as the headliner for the day.

Harry nearly fainted when his managers told him they were preforming with her; he also didn’t hesitate to go to dance rehearsals when asked too. He needed to make sure his performance was flawless but also needed to work up his abs—and by work up he means create.

This afternoon though, will be the first time him and be the rest of the band meet Y/n. Harry new he had some competition over winning the stars heart; both Zayn and Louis were trying suspiciously hard during rehearsal to outshine one another, and Harry hated every moment of it.

Soon enough though, they were out of the showers and changing into more professional clothing to meet the singer. Harry was tapping his foot, rehearsing how he was going to introduce himself and win over the girl.

“You ready?”

“Huh?”

Niall chuckled and wrapped his arm around Harry as they walked down the long hall. “You’re going to meet your celebrity crush! Big day for you.”

“I don’t have a celebrity crush-“

“Everyone has a celebrity crush. Mine in Selena Gomez.” Niall chided. “I think Zayn likes one of that Hadid girls, Liam likes Miley Cyrus, and Louis likes any celebrity that people say are nice—which I think is a good thing honestly.”

“How’d you know that then.” Harry sighed.

“You remember in X-factor days, those stair videos we did?” Harry nodded. “Someone asked who our celebrity crushes were, and I think yours is the only one that hasn’t changed.

Harry shook his head, ignoring and hoping that Niall is the only one stupid enough to remember whatever video. “But you saw Zayn and Louis in practice today? They were trying much more than normal, no way they don’t have a crush.”

Niall shrugged his shoulders. “She’s hot. Of course they do. I mean, if she talks to me and is nice I might.”

Harry shoved Niall off of him and groaned, speed walking away from his friend and trying to catch up to the rest of the boys.

“Wait up you dolt.” Niall yelled. “Don’t be stupid, I follow the girl code—I won’t date, flirt, or fuck your crush—and the bro code—I will hype you up. Scouts honor.”

Harry sighed. He was grateful for Niall’s help, really; but sometimes it gets a little carried away with matters of the heart.

“Hurry up ya pussys!” Liam shouted from the elevator, holding the door open for the boys. He got a smack from the manager, John, who gave him a stern glare for his word choice.

Harry and Niall got into the cramped elevator and watched as the doors closed. Harry watched the red numbers go up, slowly yet not stopping. He started worrying as he got higher and higher, it was less than five minutes until he meets his crush—he shivered at the thought.

The doors chimed and then opened. The boys pushed each other out, Zayn, Louis, and it seems now Liam were all extra eager to meet Y/n. John walked slowly behind the group, typing away on his phone.

The say the assistant who stood up when the men entered and made a gesture for them to follow her. She knocked on the door. “Y/n you’ve got your entourage here.”

“Entourage-“ Liam questioned, before the door swung open.

Y/n glanced over the boys, giving them a once-over, and then opened the door fully to let them in. “It’s nice to meet you all!” She chided, flashing a quick smile. “Come in! Come in!”

The women turned around and sat at the other end of a long table, filled with mood-boards, pictures, and tons and tons of sheet-filled binders. The rest of them joined on the opposite side. Harry didn’t miss the glance Y/n sent him, it wasn’t as confused as the last time though, it was more…curious.

Harry ignored that thought. He’s just being delusional.

“Alright so one-direction I can’t wait to preform with you all this weekend.” Y/n’s assistant handed her a clipboard, and she flicked through the pages. “I see the songs you want to preform, and I must admit, I’m not hugely familiar with your work and would like to go over them.” Her manager nudged her. “Sorry.” She sighed, clearing her throat. “I’d like to get to know all of you foremost.”

Harry blinked, but Liam didn’t. “My names Liam, huge fan of your work—both music and film. I sing, dance, date, you name it!”

“Alright nice to meet you-“

“I’m Louis. Raised in Doncaster. And I like your work too, especially that one song on your last album—the one that goes like “why not me la la—“

“Would it surprise you if I told you he’s a singer too.” Zayn smirked, hand on Louis’ shoulder to get him to stop. “I’m Zayn, and to make the rest quick that’s Niall and the one on the end is Harry.”

“Hello.”

“Hey.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you all. And I’m Y/n and quite frankly I’m ready to get to work.” The boys nodded in agreement, a little afraid. “So...Story of My Life.”

~

“Y/n how was it preparing for this event with a group of boys? Annoying I bet.” The interviewer asked.

Y/n and the boys were in their stage outfits, less then an hour left until their due on stage. Harry had on his black skinny jeans, and a grey tang top, his tattoos on display—trying to go for the edgy, bad-boy look. Y/n had on black baggie jeans and a tight, cropped bra-like shirt to match. Harry liked how they looked coordinated.

“It’s been a trip, honestly.” Y/n laughed. “I didn’t know much about one direction, but I like to think that that I’ve made some friends.” Y/n giggled as she pulled in Harry, her arm around his neck. Harry was quite shocked, first of all, he wasn’t apart of the interview, and second of all, she considered him a friend!

“Can you confirm Styles?”

“Oh yeah. We’re best friends at this point.” He delivered his million dollar smile (with a hint of desperation in there) and felt the heat from his blush on his cheeks rise up. “Nice break from those losers back there.” Harry pointed to the boys behind him, shooting the shit and trying to look better.

“How cute you two look! All matching! Was this on purpose?”

“Uhh.” Harry didn’t know what to say. Luckily Y/n saved him.

“Of course! Gotta have the main attractions coordinating!” She joked, leaning into Harry’s chest.

“How cute of a couple!” Harry’s jaw dropped and could feel Y/n freeze. “I’ve got the others to interview! Good luck!”

~~

How Harry got through the performance will forever be a mystery. How he will face Y/n again is an even bigger mystery.

After the interviews went on, more and more people questioned or reminded him of his relationship status with the star. He couldn't even get much of a break after the show because they swung into even more interviews, some better than others though.

Y/n acted odd though. Harry thought back to different relationships he has had with women he was friends with, none were this close to him, sometimes the hug here and there but never hand holding or arm around the neck constantly. Harry was getting mixed signals and was scared he was misinterpreting Y/n's actions. But the public eye, and his band mates, were always around watching him so it's not like much could be said without fear of someone knowing.

"Alright, I think that wraps up this interview. Next in two." Some manager said.

"Hey." Y/n whispered. Harry glanced around him, no one was near; the other boys sat on a separate couch from him and Y/n, and no praying ears were about.

"What?" Thats how you flirt Harry? Come on.

Y/n smiled though. "I just wanted to say I liked hanging out with you today."

"Really?"

"I wanted to know if you could hang out again, but without everyone else?"

"Like a date?" Harry gasped, voice not even a whisper.

"Yeah? If thats alright?" Y/n asked, looking at the dreamed out Harry who was rapidly blushing. "H?"

"Get ready boys!" ... "And Y/n."

"H were are almost live." Y/n reminded him, fixing herself up and then him. "Wanna answer?"

"Good afternoon-"

"Yes." Harry interrupted the interviewer, looking over at shocked Y/n. "Of course! I know this great place off of some road-"

Harry got knocked with a pillow by Niall, who gave him a rude look.

"Anything you wanna share mate?" The interviewer asked.

Harry smiled, finally looking where he should of been all this time, instead of the girl next to him. He nodded his head, held up high and straightened his shirt.

"I got a date."

[houseofbrat]

Submission: Cripes, can it get any worse?

Is there ANYONE in the KP organization who doesn’t have shit for brains? We’ve just seen her make a big fucking deal out of her “treatment,” to the point that she takes an entire year off from her schedule. Okay. Whatevs. But there is no mention of cancer support for her Christmas event AND, more tellingly, no mention of her FIL’s cancer diagnosis, that they are partners in their struggle with this disease. I’m starting to edge over into Team Fraud here. Google on how to treat pre-cancerous cells. What do you do? You exorcise them. In the worse case scenario, you do surgery. I didn’t see ANYTHING about an eight-month long chemo regimen. Again, I’ve said this before. Chemo kills cells. There is a reason who hold off on chemo unless it’s absolutely necessary. The very act of undergoiing chemo may cause cancer down the line.

I’m beginning to wonder if William isn’t caught between his father and his wife, hence the massive weight loss. Catherine flexes first by making Cancer Video #1 by not naming the BRF at all and then highlights HER family as her *only* means of support. Charles hits back with that piddly ass Order of the Companion–a total diss if ever there was one, she is the Princess of Wales for heaven’s sake. She retaliates with Cancer Video #2 by frolicking through the trees and pointedly DOES NOT mention her FIL. That video was a total mistake because if she’s able to romp on the sand dunes with the kids (and play paint ball, apparently), then why isn’t she back at her desk? Charles doesn’t have the time to frolick through the trees and sanddunes. He’s off DOING HIS JOB by visiting Australia and Samoa, looking like shit but still getting out there. He’s not playing painball, suffice it to say. He’s royaling. She’s doing what every upperclass matron who is a stay-at-home mom might be doing on a lazy Friday afternoon. Except she’s not you’re everyday uppermiddle class matron, now is she?

The Wales have done an excellent job in painting themselves as your everyday family, except they wear tiaras on the odd occasion, and yet they are royals. This allows them to spin the fantasy and endear us to them because they are just like you and me! Except their are not, and it’s clear to me that their entitlement is off the charts. When I was working, I wish I had something like 20 weeks of vacation a year. They can spin at least seven different stories about serious events and people say, oh, look, she’s so brave. If I were in a job and I told my employer why I’d decided not to work for a year and yet I wanted them to pay me my full salary, and told them seven different versions of why my pre-cancerous cells needed chemo when the HR head says emphatically there’s NO doctor’s validation that I’d had chemo, I’d be fired. Maybe she has been fired. Maybe she’s sick of being a royal. Maybe that’s the REAL illness. I actually don’t have a problem with that. Quit, Catherine, no one is holding your feet to the flames. What is unacceptable is this onslaught of PR rubbish that is making you out to be either a liar or plain stupid. As the Queen said, no half in and half out. 

How long can she milk this non-cancer/cancer thing? Another year? I think there is a real problem with someone like her because she appears to me to be a perfectionist and her public persona is very important to her (hair, make-up, etc. flawless), but she appears to be quite healthy (unlike her FIL, who does look like he’s undergoing chemo!), which starts to undermine her current PR message. Also, have you noticed that there is no comment from anyone other than the ass-kissing royal rota on William’s weight loss? If the tables were turned and William had announced he was undergoing chemo, I would damn well believe it. He looks like total shit. Nothing from Catherine about how William has been so worried about her, how she’s heaping his plate at night with a double helping of potatoes. Nothing. Nada. Zip. She’s letting him twist in the wind. As is the BRF, interestingly enough.

I am at the point where I don’t believe Camilla is really ill. I think she is sick of this sideshow and is doing her own flex. Perhaps I’m wrong. The person to watch is Anne, because that woman is her father’s daughter. ‘Nuff said.

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

Yup! I was stunned last night when I saw the “theme” of her Christmas concert.

But when you think of Kate’s work history--or lack thereof--it’s not that surprising. 

Kate worked part-time at Jigsaw, a clothing store, and worked for her parents’ company, Party Pieces. Never did she work full time for someone where she wasn’t cut slack. 

She reportedly got a week off of work at Jigsaw after she and William broke up one time, allegedly due to media intrusion. Allegedly, of course. I don’t know of anyone else I’ve known who has gotten a week off because their boyfriend broke up with them. But Kate did. When she worked with her parents, she could arrange her schedule how she liked and went on vacation with her parents to Mystique, with William in tow. 

How does Kate’s pre-royal work stack up against Maxima? Or Letizia? Or Masako? Or Mary of Denmark? Or Daniel? 

It doesn’t. 

She is a rich party girl whose only dream in life was to be a stay-at-home mom with an Aga. 

Are we really surprised that she’s too dumb to have the KP head of communications fired? Based on her work history, why should we surprised that she’s made moves that will tank her reputation permanently? What in her work life demonstrates that she knows the difference between valuable employees who need to be retained versus firing those who are incompetent and dangerous to the organization? Nothing!

Apparently everyone has forgotten how she was flashing people in India at outdoor engagements when it was windy! And that was when she had been a royal for FIVE YEARS!

Everyone in the Wales fandom needs to admit that Harry & Meghan were such a low bar that they made their faves--Will & Kate--look good even when their faves have always been problematic. 

As for Camilla, she was a heavy smoker for decades and was able to give it up from much pressure & encouragement from Charles. She is legit elderly at 77, and I am never surprised when a former heavy smoker comes down with lung issues or infections when they’re elderly. 

[lifemod17]

13, 19 and/or 29 for the music asks? :)

music ask

13: Name four or more flawless albums? IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

Form Follows Function - MICHL

Nowhere - Friday Pilots Club

Wasteland, Baby! - Hozier

Neuma's Cry - Joy Morales

Lovely Little Lonely - The Maine

19: A song you like with a color in the title? Pink Matter - Frank Ocean, Andre 3000

29: What is your favourite music video right now? Fall For Me - Sleep Token

thank you so much for the questions, lovely!! happy timezone 💛

[snapbackslide]

a reward for staying alive ❤️‍🔥

the post-concert depression is always severe with this band... i had to pull myself back to reality many times yesterday. today i'm able to put my thoughts down and reminisce - i don't want to forget a single thing, so i'm trying my best to write everything down - this is why my posts end up being so long. so, regarding the clancy concert in montreal, and how this band feels like a reward for staying alive... novel below.

um, the concert lasted like 5 minutes?! way too short for my soul, corazón... it seems every show goes by faster and faster, probably because i love them more and more every time 🥲

i don't know how, but the more i go to the bell centre, the smaller of a venue it seems. it felt so intimate, not sure if it's the familiarity of it all, or if they're just that good at including us in everything.

josh was funny and interactive and he wore a montreal shirt, tyler brought so much energy and spoke french, vocals and drums and every other instrument were flawless, they tore the place down.

from the moment trees ended, i already started missing them so much. every time i know trees is coming up and every time they play it, i get this bittersweet feeling. one of my favourite songs of theirs, that also signals the end of the show... it's a beautifully sad experience 🥺

and when i got home, my first thought was "they did it again". i've felt this way after each of their shows.

in regards to past experiences;

the bandito tour, 2019. my first tøp show, so probably the one that will always mean the most. i had never seen an artist perform every song off the album they were touring before. that was incredibly special, not just because trench means so much to me, but because the show itself felt magical. it is actually the reason why i'm so into the band today - i'd loved them and their songs for a while, but seeing them live is what cemented it for me.

the icy tour, 2022. this one was a bit of a last minute decision. it was straight up just fun, very reflective of the era as a whole. they played so many songs, some of my absolute favourites, and i had great seats and got to take some really cool photos and videos.

the clancy tour, 2024. well, there's obviously a lot to say, seeing as it's still fresh in my mind. an even more last minute decision... it needs its own section. and i love to see others enjoying it as much i have 🥲

i went into the bandito show with no prior knowledge whatsoever. i had checked the setlist before the icy show, but didn't know how it was going to play out. this time, i had watched an entire livestream of the first clancy show of the tour, so i knew everything beforehand. and yet, every single one left me mesmerized at how much the songs come alive, and all three are my favourites i've ever attended.

and on a personal level... - the bandito show was rough. i was on an ongoing anxiety attack that didn't go away until the next day, and it was the show that caused the worst pcd 😓 didn't help that i was also in a tough time of my life, in university and struggling with careers and mental health and friendships... - the icy show had its own set of challenges. it was friday night, i got there straight from work, tired and worn out from the week, and i had to pee the entire show 😣 ever since, i have to go to the bathroom like 3 times before an event, lol. i'm truly scarred from that 😅 - the clancy show had none of that. no anxiety, no urges, no discomfort. no waiting in lines, not for entrance, not for merch, not for the bathroom, not for the show (i am also scarred from having to wait over an hour in the pit for other artists before...). i'm in a better place in my life. didn't care what people thought of me. no problems, everything was smooth. it was perfect.

a few key moments;

perhaps the moment that marked me the most wasn't even about tyler or josh. it was the kid in the row in front of me. when tyler announced he was about the play oldies station, the kid (well, maybe not a kid - he seemed to be in his late teens) absolutely rejoiced. he was singing his heart out, and when it ended, he fist pumped to himself, and that moment alone… meant everything. context and timing considered, it continues to amaze me the impact this song has. it made me so happy 🥺

josh looking up to my section after he walked to his mini stage, connecting with us and airdrumming sometimes, specifically during mulberry street. after the intro and before the first verse without drums, he continued his arm movements but without touching the drums, and made funny faces to us 🥹

tyler saying "you're crrraaaazzzyyyyyy" after we had rapped the entire second verse of ride by ourselves, with just the backing track, neither one of them playing or singing 😭😭😭

josh singing along to himself while drumming, and the parts where he actually sang… my goodness. during paladin, i was so lost in the moment that i forgot he did the backing vocal parts, and as soon as he started singing, the crowd erupted. pulled me out of my trance and made me smile so hard.

oh yeah, tyler saying we might be his favourite show of the tour so far? yeah okay, artists say that all the time, he probably didn't mean it… but i choose to believe he did 🤪 he's never said that to us before!!

at 8:43 i heard a loud, distorted noise that it took me a few seconds to make out… "what's your ETA" 😭 exactly two minutes before they came on 😭😭 gosh i love this band so much.

speaking of right before the show started, idk if it was tyler & josh or others, but during those two minutes they were peeking their hands out through the curtains and making gestures, getting us amped up, it was so funny and sweet 🥹

those first few notes of overcompensate… and when the song actually started… and that whole song, really… whew. it will always be a fav of mine. sooooo so happy i got to hear it live.

it was incredibly healing to scream along the lyrics, especially to the songs off clancy. it's hard to even explain. backslide… that and overcompensate were the ones i was excited for the most, they're 2/4 of my favs (the other two being the only songs from clancy not being performed 😢), and they definitely didn't disappoint. and again, oldies station... i'm not even joking when i say that my heart felt like this emoji ❤️‍🩹 so, so, so glad the song was on my setlist. and of course, next semester, yelling hey kid, get out of the road and start fresh next semester, wow. and navigating... the craving... PALADIN STRAIT... just magic.

i love this band so much.

they're the people's band. i love the relationship i have with them. i see them and i don't see celebrities, i see people who make art, people who have gone through similar things. i see the crowd and the way they're touched by them. i see family. we don't know each other, but they help me when i need them. their music is always there, within reach, it's always meaningful, always of high quality, there's always more to learn, always more to love.

that's why i don't participate in the fandom as much, i don't dig into the lore to try and solve things, i don't fight for barricade or travel to multiple shows (no offence to anyone who does). that's what allows me to have my own relationship with each and every song. that's what makes each show i do go to all the more special.

and just like every time, going to one of their shows feels like a reset button. it quite literally reminds me of why i fight, just what tyler intended. surrounded by others also fighting, people who have survived, growing older together, knowing that things do get better, and healing is possible... i'm truly so grateful to have them in my life, and so blessed to have gotten to see them three times. i hope for many more, years down the road, one for every era, and to continue to grow with them.

they're a motivation to push on through. with every new album, every new show... they're a reward for staying alive.

thank you, twenty one pilots. for everything. i'm so proud to call you my favourite band, i'm so glad you're my band. i love you forever.

[siennamillerstyle]

Blumarine Pre-Fall 2024 Alpaca Blend Cardigan With Peony Print

Cologne & Cotton Wash Bag In Blue Leaves

Plant People WonderSleep Mushroom Gummies

A313 Retinol Cream

Sarah Chapman London C1 Vitamin C Power 1 Serum

Utan Pen

Glow Recipe Watermelon Glow Niacinamide Hue Drops

Charlotte Tilbury Hollywood Flawless Filter

MV Skintherapy Rose Hydrating Mist

LYMA Laser

Macrene Actives High Performance Face Cream

Heliocare Color Gelcream Light

The Outset Smoothing Vitamin C Eye + Expression Lines Cream

Hair by Sam McKnight Cool Girl Barely There Texture Mist

Westman Atelier Lip Suede Les Nudes

YSL Touche Éclat Illuminating Highlighter Pen

Summer Fridays Lip Butter Balm In Vanilla

Glossier Stretch Balm Concealer

Pat McGrath Skin Fetish: Sublime Perfection Concealer Brush

Amanda Harrington Face Mist In Natural Honey

E11even Fragrance Oil

Le Labo Thé Noir 29

| Video for Harper's Bazaar UK ‘Inside my beauty bag’, June 2024 |

[introvertllux]

Whisphers of Redemption: (Chapter 2)

Genres: Action, Thriller, Romance

Warnings:

Graphic Violence

Intense Action Sequences

PTSD and Trauma

Emotional Distress

Age Gap Romance (John is in his mid-40s, Sera is in her late 20s- early 30s)--> Will have the ages solidified in the story to make things more clear (might have to make John younger I read they wanted him to poetically be 35 years old).

Word Count: 4,773

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any rights to John Wick or anything related (Just my OC! characters).

*Text in bold are Alexandre's inner monologue*

Chapter Two: New Threat

Brooklyn, New York (Friday)- The Étoile Ballet Theatre

The Étoile Ballet Theatre in New York City stood as a testament to elegance and sophistication, its opulent architecture strikingly contrasted with the modern skyline. Inside, the theatre's shadowy corridors whispered secrets of grace, torment, ambition, and despair. Within these walls lay the lavish, dimly lit office of Alexandre Devereaux, the unseen puppet master of this grand institution.

Alexandre, a tall, imposing figure with piercing blue eyes and a perpetually composed demeanor, sat behind a grand mahogany desk. The room was decorated with antique furniture, intricate tapestries, and portraits of his influential ancestors, their stern faces a testament to the Devereaux legacy. The heavy scent of expensive cologne mingled with a subtle, lingering menace that permeated the air.

The flickering glow of a single lamp cast deep shadows, accentuating the sharp lines of Alexandre's face as he meticulously examined a report in his hands. Delivered moments ago by one of his many informants, the document detailed Seraphina "Sera" Jones' latest performance. Alexandre's eyes, sharp and cold, scrutinized the attached photos and videos with a predatory intensity. Each graceful movement, each precise pirouette captured on film, fueled his twisted desire to possess and control her.

"Magnificent," he murmured, a dark smile curving his lips. "She dances like an angel, yet she remains a warrior."

His mind drifted back to the first time he saw Sera perform. She was a vision of ethereal beauty, her body moving with precision and passion instantly captivated him. But more than her talent, it was her resilience that intrigued him. Sera was a rare blend of strength and beauty, a perfect tool and an exquisite prize. His obsession with her had grown with each passing day, evolving into a dark, consuming need to break her spirit and bend her to his will.

The office door creaked open, and one of Alexandre's trusted informants, a slender man with a nervous disposition, stepped inside.

"Sir, you wanted to see me?" the informant asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Alexandre looked up from the report, his gaze icy. "Yes, Laurent. What have you found?"

Laurent swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Alexandre's scrutiny. "Sera's performance was flawless, as always. She's been keeping to her usual routine—rehearsals, performances, and occasional visits to her apartment in Brooklyn."

Alexandre's eyes narrowed, a calculating gleam in them. "And her interactions? Has she made contact with anyone suspicious?"

Laurent shook his head. "No, sir. She keeps to herself mostly. There was an incident a few nights ago—she seemed on edge, but nothing came of it."

Alexandre leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the mahogany desk. His eyes narrowed as he processed the information, a multitude of thoughts swirling in his mind.

On edge? His mind immediately began to dissect the implications. Sera was typically composed, her demeanor steady despite the pressures of performance and practice. If she was showing signs of unease, it meant something had stirred her. It could be a hint of her fragmented memories surfacing, or perhaps she sensed the invisible noose tightening around her. The latter thought amused him. Sera, intuiting the danger yet unable to grasp its source, like a deer scenting the hunter but unable to see the sniper in the trees.

"Interesting," he finally said, his voice a cool purr. Each tap of his fingers on the desk was deliberate, a metronome marking the cadence of his meticulously crafted plans. "Keep a close watch on her, Laurent. Report any changes immediately."

"Yes, sir," Laurent replied, bowing slightly before exiting the room.

As the door closed behind Laurent, Alexandre's thoughts turned inward. His mind was a well-oiled machine of calculation and control. 

On edge... The phrase echoed in his mind, a small but significant crack in Sera's otherwise calm exterior. He considered the possibilities: had someone approached her? Had a stray memory found its way through the carefully constructed barriers in her mind? 

Sera was a masterpiece in progress, a puzzle he was methodically piecing together. Her training, conditioning, and every aspect of her existence were under his meticulous supervision. The thought of her stepping out of line, even slightly, was both a challenge and an opportunity.

If she is sensing something, it means the conditioning isn't complete.  He mused, the edges of his lips curling into a smile. Good. It gives me an excuse to tighten my hold to ensure every vestige of her past is eradicated.

He could almost see her standing alone in her apartment, the shadows of her past whispering in the corners of her mind. He relished the thought of breaking those whispers, of silencing them with the precision of a surgeon excising a tumor. The satisfaction he derived from control was intoxicating, each step closer to her complete subjugation a symphony of power and possession.

And then there's Wick... The thought of John Wick, the legendary assassin, brought a cold gleam to his eye. Sera's unease could be useful. If Wick was alive, her nervousness could draw him out like a moth to a flame. He would wait, watching the pieces move on the chessboard, ready to strike when the time was right.

Patience, he reminded himself. Every move must be calculated, and every action must be precise. Sera's ultimate transformation into his loyal weapon would testify to his dominance, and John Wick's fall would be the crowning jewel in his symphony of destruction and control.

With a final tap of his fingers, he rose from his chair, his mind already racing ahead to the next move. The night was still young, and his plans were far from complete. As he moved through the theatre dimly lit corridors, the shadows seemed to deepen around him, a silent testament to the darkness of his intentions.

Soon, Sera. Soon, you will be mine, and Wick will fall. The thought was a dark promise, a vow that he intended to see fulfilled. The deadly dance had begun, and Alexandre was determined to lead it to its final conclusion.

A soft knock on the door pulled Alexandre from his thoughts. His assistant, Elise, a tall woman with sharp features and an air of cold efficiency, stepped into the room.

"Alexandre, there's been some movement within the High Table. They've taken an interest in recent activities here," Elise reported, her voice steady and unemotional.

Alexandre's eyes gleamed with interest. "Good. Let them watch. Everything is falling into place."

Elise nodded, her gaze unwavering. "What are your orders?"

"Continue monitoring Sera. Ensure she remains unaware of our plans. And keep an ear out for any mention of John Wick. His survival could complicate matters but also work to our advantage."

"Understood," Elise replied, turning to leave.

As the door closed behind her, Alexandre's smile faded, replaced by a look of intense focus. He leaned back in his chair, lost in thought. The pieces were in place, and the game was about to begin. But this was no ordinary game—it was a deadly dance, and Alexandre intended to lead.

---

The Étoile Ballet Theatre was a labyrinth of shadowed hallways and hidden corners where beauty and darkness intertwined. Alexandre moved through the corridors with the silent grace of a predator, his mind already several steps ahead. He relished the power he held, the control he wielded over every aspect of the theatre.

Reaching the rehearsal rooms, he paused by a door left slightly ajar. Inside, Sera was practicing, her movements fluid and precise. She was lost in the music, unaware of the eyes watching her from the shadows. Alexandre's heart quickened as he observed her, the familiar surge of possessive desire mixing with cruel satisfaction.

He allowed himself to savor the sight before stepping back into the darkness. There was much to be done. As he walked, his thoughts turned to Laurent, his informant. Laurent was efficient, but Alexandre knew better than to trust anyone completely. Trust was a luxury he could not afford.

Returning to his office, Alexandre sat at his desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a small, leather-bound journal. He flipped through the pages filled with meticulous notes and plans, pausing at a detailed sketch of Sera. Next to it, he had written the names of key figures in her life, including Margaux LaRue, the artistic director who had taken a maternal interest in Sera.

Alexandre mused that Margaux would need to be dealt with. Her influence over Sera was a potential threat to his plans. He made a note to arrange a meeting with her, intending to gauge her loyalties and, if necessary, eliminate her as an obstacle.

As Alexandre continued to write, his phone buzzed on the desk. He glanced at the screen and saw a message from one of his operatives stationed at the High Table's headquarters. The message was brief but filled with implications: "Movement detected. Wick might be alive."

A slow, cruel smile spread across Alexandre's face. The game was indeed beginning.

Wick might be alive. The words echoed in his mind, a thrilling possibility. He had always known that the ghost of John Wick lingered in the shadows, but this confirmation ignited a spark of excitement within him. Alexandre's fingers paused over his journal, thoughts racing as he considered the implications.

John Wick. The man who defied the High Table survived against impossible odds. A legend, a specter haunting the criminal underworld. And now, potentially, a player in Alexandre's carefully orchestrated symphony. 

He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly under his weight. The cruel smile remained on his lips as he envisioned the unfolding scenario. With Sera as his pawn and Wick as his target, the stage was set for a confrontation that would be nothing short of spectacular.

Perfect, he thought, his mind a web of calculating intricacies. Wick's involvement adds a layer of complexity and opportunity. Sera will draw him out, and I'll be ready when he comes for her.

He could already picture the scene: Wick, driven by his lingering ties to Sera, walking into the trap Alexandre had laid. The legendary assassin would be ensnared, facing the High Table's wrath and Alexandre's personal vendetta. 

Sera's conditioning is paramount, he mused, his thoughts shifting back to his immediate task. She must be perfected, her memories of Wick erased, her loyalty unwavering. She will be the key to luring him out and the instrument of his downfall.

Alexandre's fingers resumed their movement over the journal, each note a step in his grand design. He detailed the next phase of Sera's conditioning, the psychological triggers to exploit, the physical trials to break her spirit and rebuild her as his perfect weapon.

Obedience, he wrote, the word standing stark and cold on the page. She will know nothing but my will. Every thought, every action, will be a testament to my control.

The thought of Sera, broken and remade, standing before him as his loyal asset filled him with dark satisfaction. Her transformation would be a masterpiece, a testament to his power and precision. With her at his side, Wick would have no choice but to face the inevitable.

He will come for her, Alexandre thought, the cruel smile deepening. And when he does, he will find only death and despair.

He glanced at the message on his phone again, the implications sinking in. The operatives would continue to monitor the situation, providing him with updates on Wick's movements. Alexandre's grip tightened on the pen, his mind alight with the possibilities.

The game has begun, he mused, his thoughts a symphony of control and destruction. And I will orchestrate it to perfection.

With a final note, he closed the journal and locked it away, rising to his feet. The night was still young, and there were plans to be set in motion. As he moved through the theatre again, the shadows seemed to deepen around him, a silent testament to the darkness of his intentions.

—

Sera's breath hitched, and she nearly faltered in her dance. The theatre around her, the audience watching in silent admiration, vanished. She was transported back to a vivid, painful memory.

She was a small child again in her family's modest house in Brooklyn. She remembered the warmth of the living room, the scent of her mother's cooking wafting from the kitchen, and the rare but joyful sound of her father's laughter. He was often away at his military base, but when he was home, those moments were filled with unparalleled joy. She could almost feel the softness of the living room carpet beneath her tiny feet as she twirled and leaped, her parents' loving eyes watching her every move. Each pirouette was a moment of pure happiness, an innocent expression of her love for dance.

But then, the memory shifted violently. Her home's warm, golden light was replaced by the harsh glare of flames. She was five years old, playing with her dolls when the front door burst open. Masked men stormed in, their guns drawn, their eyes filled with malice. Panic seized her small heart. Her father's shout of "Sera, run!" echoed in her mind, his usual calm demeanor replaced by sheer terror. Her mother's arms scooped her up, holding her tightly, whispering, "It's okay, baby. We're going to be okay,"��but her words were drowned out by the roar of the fire and the deafening gunshots.

Her father fought bravely, a blend of military precision and desperate fury. She remembered how he lunged at the intruders, managing to take one down before being shot. She could see him falling, his body collapsing lifelessly to the floor, and the sight tore her soul apart. Her mother's scream of anguish was abruptly silenced by a brutal blow. Sera was yanked from her mother's arms, her small body thrashing as she reached out for her parents. "No! Mommy! Daddy!" she screamed, her cries piercing the night, mingling with the crackling flames that consumed their home. The last sight she had of it was through the rear window of a van, the red glow fading into the distance as she was taken away.

The memory of her home burning behind her and her parents lying dead left a scar that never healed. It was a nightmare she could never escape.

Her breath hitched again, and she struggled to maintain her composure. The theatre around her, the audience watching in silent admiration, vanished. She was back in the Expanse program, the cold, unyielding walls of the training facility surrounding her. The air was thick with the sounds of her fellow captives: the grunts of exertion, the clatter of weapons, the droning hum of computers.

They had pushed her to the brink, trying to break her. Cybersecurity drills that left her fingers raw, physical training that made her muscles scream in agony. She had learned to wield a gun with deadly precision, her aim unerring. She had become a warrior, her resilience forged in the crucible of their brutality.

But the worst part was the brainwashing. Strapped to a chair, forced to watch violent propaganda on an endless loop, the subliminal messages trying to erode her sense of self: "Instill. Fear. Pain. Obedience." She had clung to her identity, fighting to hold onto the fragments of who she was. Her parents' faces, their love, were her anchor in the storm of forced indoctrination. Their images flickered in her mind, the only light in the overwhelming darkness.

Then, chaos. The facility was under attack, alarms were blaring, and the sterile room was descending into pandemonium. The pain in her head was unbearable, but in the confusion, the restraints on her wrists had loosened. She had ripped off the electrodes, stumbling to her feet, her vision blurry and her mind a jumble of fragmented memories and pain.

She had run. She had navigated the chaotic halls of the facility, the sounds of battle and screams fading into the background as she focused on escape. She had burst through a side door, the cold night air hitting her like a shock, and she had kept running, never looking back. The fragments of her past clung to her like ghosts, urging her forward with a burning desire for freedom.

A final, graceful arabesque brought her back to the present. Sera's heart was pounding, not just from the exertion of the dance but from the intensity of her memories. She felt the eyes on her from the shadows, but she forced herself to remain composed, to maintain the facade of the dedicated dancer.

She took a deep breath, grounding herself. The applause from the audience was distant, almost unreal. She bowed, the motion mechanical, and exited the stage. As she walked through the dim corridors of the theatre, she could still feel the weight of those memories pressing down on her, a constant reminder of what she had endured and lost.

Unbeknownst to her, Alexandre Devereaux watched with a twisted smile from his hidden vantage point. His dark plans for her and John Wick were taking shape. The stage was set, and the deadly dance was about to begin. Sera could feel the shadows closing in, but she had no idea how deep the darkness went.

---

The atmosphere within the Étoile Ballet Theatre grew more sinister as Alexandre Devereaux's plans began to take shape. The opulent, shadowy corridors seemed to pulse with an almost tangible malevolence, a dark undercurrent that only Alexandre could fully appreciate. The intricate tapestries and antique furniture, carefully curated to project an image of cultured sophistication, now felt like sinister relics of a bygone era.

In the privacy of his chambers, Alexandre sat at his desk, the dim light casting long shadows across the room. He reached for his phone and typed a cryptic message to the High Table, carefully selecting each word to hint at his intentions without revealing too much. His fingers moved with precision, his mind already several steps ahead.

"New developments in NYC. Potential assets require further conditioning. Will update soon."

He hit send, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. The High Table would understand his implication. They valued discretion and results, and Alexandre intended to deliver both. He leaned back in his chair, eyes drifting to the surveillance monitors mounted on the wall. Each screen displayed different parts of the theatre, but his gaze was drawn to the one showing Sera's dressing room.

On the monitor, Sera sat alone, removing her makeup with slow, deliberate movements. Her face was a mask of calm, but Alexandre knew better. He could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the lingering shadows of her past that she could never entirely escape. He zoomed in, watching her closely, his mind working through the details of his plan.

"She thinks she's safe here, surrounded by her fellow dancers and the illusions of normalcy. But she is mine. Every pirouette, every arabesque, brings her one step closer to her destiny. The fragments of her past still cling to her like ghosts refusing to fade. Especially those tied to John Wick."

The name resonated with a mixture of disdain and dark amusement. John Wick, the legendary assassin, had defied the High Table and survived. Alexandre's smile twisted into something cruel.

"I will erase him from her mind," he mused. "Every memory, every lingering thought. She will become my most loyal asset, devoid of past ties and emotional weaknesses. A perfect weapon forged from pain and resilience."

He reached for a leather-bound journal, flipping it open to a page filled with meticulous notes and sketches. His eyes scanned the detailed plan he had laid out: the final steps of Sera's conditioning, the methods employed, and the psychological and physical triggers to exploit. Each detail was calculated, and each step was designed to break her entirely and rebuild her in his image.

Alexandre's gaze returned to the monitor. Sera had finished removing her makeup and was now sitting in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection with a mixture of weariness and determination. Her fingers traced the table's edge, a slight, almost unconscious movement that spoke of her need for control in a world that had offered her so little.

"In time, you will be perfect," Alexandre whispered to the empty room. "You will dance not just for the audience but for me. You will be the instrument of my will, the key to bringing John Wick to his knees."

His smile widened as he imagined Sera would stand before him, her memories of John Wick erased, her loyalty unwavering. He envisioned her as a deadly instrument of his design, her every move a testament to his power and control.

His smile widened as he imagined Sera would stand before him, her memories of John Wick erased, her loyalty unwavering. Alexandre's mind conjured vivid images of what that future would look like, each more possessive and sadistic than the last. He saw her standing there, eyes vacant and obedient, her spirit broken and reshaped to fit his desires. Every move she made would be a testament to his power and control.

In his mind, he saw himself approaching her, the room dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls. She stood perfectly still, her face a mask of emotionless compliance. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek, the touch both tender and cruel. Her skin would be soft under his hand, but there would be no warmth in her eyes, only the cold acceptance of her new reality.

He envisioned her training sessions, where he would push her to the limits of her endurance and beyond. Her body would move with the same grace and precision that had once captivated audiences, but now, each step and turn would be for him alone. He would be there, always watching, ensuring she executed every command flawlessly. And when she faltered, as he knew she would in the beginning, his correction would be swift and merciless.

"Again," he would command, his voice a low growl. "Do it again until you get it right."

Her response would be immediate, her body reacting to his words without hesitation. There would be no room for failure and no tolerance for mistakes. She would learn that perfection was not just expected—it was demanded. His eyes would follow her every movement, scrutinizing and judging her, taking pleasure in her struggle and her pain.

He saw himself exerting control in more personal, intimate ways in his darker imaginings. He would touch her not with the gentleness of a lover but with the possessiveness of a master. His hands would grip her shoulders, guiding her, forcing her to look into his eyes as he spoke. 

"You belong to me now," he would whisper, his breath hot against her ear. "Your past is gone. There is no John Wick. There is only me."

He would relish the fear that flickered in her eyes before it was quickly suppressed, replaced by the hollow obedience he had drilled into her. The transformation would be complete when she no longer resisted and when she no longer remembered life before him. 

In his mind, he saw her standing beside him during meetings with the High Table, her presence a silent declaration of his triumph. She would be his weapon and enforcer, her loyalty unshakeable and her skills unparalleled. And when John Wick finally came for her, as Alexandre was confident he would, Sera would be the one to deliver the killing blow, the ultimate testament to Alexandre's victory.

The thought was intoxicating, filling him with a dark satisfaction. He watched her for a few moments longer, savoring the anticipation of what was to come. Then, with a final glance at the monitor, he closed the journal and stood up.

There was still much to be done. He needed to prepare for the next phase of Sera's conditioning to ensure she remained unaware of his plans until it was too late. And he needed to keep a close watch on Margaux LaRue. The artistic director's influence over Sera was a potential threat that needed to be neutralized with precision and care.

As Alexandre moved through the dimly lit corridors of the theatre, the shadows seemed to deepen around him, a silent testament to the darkness of his intentions. Outside, the city buzzed with life, blissfully unaware of the sinister machinations unfolding within the grand walls of the Étoile Ballet Theatre.

Alexandre Devereaux, ever the puppet master, was ready to pull the strings, orchestrating a deadly dance that would bring Sera and John Wick to their knees. As the night wore on, the first steps of this deadly ballet began, setting the stage for a confrontation that would change everything.

The Étoile Ballet Theatre stood in eerie silence, its grand halls empty, save for the faint echoes of Sera's dance lingering in the air. The ornate chandeliers, now dimmed, cast long shadows that stretched across the polished floors. The stillness was palpable, starkly contrasting to the vibrant performances that usually filled the space with life and energy.

Sera stood alone on the stage, her breathing heavy from the exertion of her late-night rehearsal. She felt a strange sense of unease, an inexplicable weight pressing down on her. She tried to shake it off, attributing it to the fatigue of a long day and the haunting memories that had surfaced during her dance. Her muscles ached, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, but the heaviness in her heart weighed on her the most.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The theater, usually a sanctuary, felt different tonight. The shadows seemed to cling to the walls with an almost tangible presence, and the silence was oppressive. Sera gathered her things, her movements slow and deliberate as she tried to ignore the feeling of being watched.

The unease grew stronger as she walked off the stage and into the dimly lit corridor. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she glanced around, her eyes scanning the darkness for any movement. But the theatre appeared empty, its silence unbroken. She blamed herself for being paranoid, but the feeling persisted, a nagging doubt that something was wrong.

Unbeknownst to her, Alexandre Devereaux watched from the shadows, his eyes tracking her every move. Hidden in the darkness, he observed her with a predatory intensity, a dark promise glinting in his gaze. He remained perfectly still, blending into the shadows as he waited for the right moment.

Sera's steps echoed softly in the corridor as she went to the dressing room. A chill ran down her spine, and she quickened her pace, eager to leave the oppressive atmosphere behind. She reached the door, her fingers trembling slightly as she fumbled with the key.

From his vantage point, Alexandre's smile widened. He relished the sight of her unease, the subtle signs of fear that she tried to hide. It was only a matter of time before she would be entirely under his control. He could almost feel the satisfaction of breaking her spirit, molding her into the perfect weapon.

As Sera finally unlocked the door and stepped inside, she let out a shaky breath, feeling a semblance of relief. She closed the door behind her, leaning against it momentarily as she tried to calm her racing heart. The dressing room was a tiny refuge, but unease lingered, refusing to dissipate.

Alexandre remained in the shadows, his eyes never leaving her. The theatre's empty halls seemed to amplify his presence, the darkness around him thick and suffocating. He watched her silhouette through the frosted glass of the dressing room door, his mind already plotting the next steps.

He took a deep breath, savoring the moment. Everything was falling into place. Sera's conditioning would be completed, and John Wick would be drawn out of hiding. The stage was set for a confrontation to cement his power and exact his revenge.

"Soon, my dear Sera," he whispered to himself, his voice a low, dangerous murmur. "Soon you will be mine, and John Wick will fall."

The dark promise in his eyes solidified into a chilling vow. He turned and walked away, his footsteps silent against the polished floors. The empty, silent theatre echoed with the malevolent intent filling the air.

As he disappeared into the shadows, Sera's sense of unease slowly began to dissipate. She took another deep breath, trying to convince herself that it was just her imagination, that the theatre was as it always had been. But deep down, a part of her knew that something had changed, that the darkness around her was more than just the absence of light.

Chapter Three: Saturday June 8, 2:00 PM EST

Taglist (I apologize if I didn't tag you!):

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Thank you for the support!

Chapter 1 Here

Story Premise and Character Profiles Here

[thesobsister]

Fela Kuti, Everything Scatter

Friday night of a long week. A little Fela sits about right. The title track and "Who No Know Go Know" both excellent platforms for his words, his sax playing, his flawless band.

[a2zsportsnews]

Tyrrell Hatton rant, video Antoine Rozner overtakes Rory McIlroy

Antoine Rozner hit a flawless seven-under-par 65 to overtake Rory McIlroy and Tyrrell Hatton to top the leaderboard after the second round of the A$15.5m World Tour Championship in Dubai on Friday. Watch every round of the PGA Tour LIVE & Exclusive on Fox Sports, available on Kayo. New to Kayo? Get your first month for just $1. Limited time offer. Northern Ireland’s McIlroy, bidding to equal…

[holley4734]

BluntKnees: Flawless Friday Video

@bluntknees @csquaredmm2 @ITHERETWEETER1 @audiobloggers @musicblogrt @urbandisavirus #indierock #altrock #newmusic #flawlessfridayvideo #musicvideo #newmusicfriday

BluntKnees has a single that is so beautiful and emotional that it might make you cry. It’s ok if you do shed a tear. It just means that you are in touch with being a human being. So check out this powerful song, “Catch the Dark.” It is our Flawless Friday Video this week and our new favorite song for the foreseeable future. Reflecting on the significance of the song, MoollonKyen…

[seositetool]

HitPaw Edimakor Black Friday Sale: Maximize Your Savings Now with 50% Off

NEW YORK, N.Y., Nov. 12, 2024 (PRESSRELEASE.CC NEWSWIRE) — HitPaw Edimakor Black Friday sales are now live！Edimakor is an all-in-one video editing powerhouse, powered by AI to make flawless and efficient content creation possible easily on both Windows and Mac operating systems.Take advantage of the Black Friday sale for Edimakor! This becomes an exclusive chance for users to avail Edimakor tools…

[slrmagazine]

Power Metal Band FROZEN CROWN Releases Guitar-Driven Banger “I Am The Wind” and Official Music Video

Power Metal Band FROZEN CROWN Releases Guitar-Driven Banger “I Am The Wind” and Official Music Video. #frozencrown @FrozenCrownBand

Italian power metal force FROZEN CROWN have released their guitar-driven new single, “I Am The Wind”, taken from their upcoming studio album and Napalm Records debut, ‘War Hearts,’ out this Friday! Dominated by the dynamic vocal duo of frontwoman Jade and guitarist Federico, bold guitar riffs and flawless drumming once again underscore their passion for modern power metal together with a gripping…

[metalshockfinland]

FROZEN CROWN Release Guitar-Driven Banger 'I Am The Wind' + Official Music Video

[Photo credit: Federico Mondelli, Alessia Lanzone] Italian power metal force FROZEN CROWN have released their guitar-driven new single, “I Am The Wind”, taken from their upcoming studio album and Napalm Records debut, War Hearts, out this Friday! Dominated by the dynamic vocal duo of frontwoman Jade and guitarist Federico, bold guitar riffs and flawless drumming once again underscore their…

[carlnave]

Wedding Suits Melbourne | Carlnave

As the excitement of a wedding day approaches, one of the most crucial decisions for any groom-to-be is selecting the perfect suit. In the vibrant city of Melbourne, where style and sophistication thrive, the options for wedding attire are as diverse as the city itself. From classic elegance to contemporary flair, navigating through the myriad of choices can be both thrilling and overwhelming. Here, we explore the essence of Wedding Suits in Melbourne, offering insights into crafting a timeless and suave look for that special occasion.

Tailored to Perfection: In a city known for its sartorial prowess, opting for a tailored suit is a quintessential choice. Tailoring ensures a personalized fit that accentuates your physique, exuding confidence and refinement as you exchange vows. Whether it's a bespoke creation or alterations to a ready-made suit, the attention to detail sets the tone for a memorable ensemble.

Fabric Selection: Melbourne's unpredictable weather calls for careful consideration of fabric choices. Lightweight wool blends or breathable linen are ideal for summer weddings, keeping you cool and comfortable during the festivities. For cooler seasons, opt for luxurious tweeds or wool suits to stay warm without compromising style.

Colour Palette: While traditional black and navy remain timeless choices, Melbourne's fashion-forward culture encourages exploring a spectrum of hues. Soft greys, earthy tones, and even bold statement colors can infuse personality into your attire, reflecting your individuality as you celebrate love and commitment.

Accessorize with Finesse: Elevate your look with thoughtfully chosen accessories that complement your suit. A well-crafted tie or bowtie, paired with a coordinating pocket square, adds a touch of sophistication. Consider incorporating unique elements such as cufflinks, lapel pins, or even a stylish boutonniere to complete your ensemble with flair.

Final Fittings and Rehearsals: As the wedding day draws near, schedule final fittings to ensure a flawless fit. Use this opportunity to rehearse your attire, ensuring ease of movement and comfort. A well-prepared groom exudes confidence, setting the stage for a joyous celebration with loved ones.

In Melbourne's dynamic wedding scene, choosing the perfect suit is a reflection of your personal style and the essence of the occasion. With meticulous attention to detail and a dash of Melbourne's signature charm, your wedding attire will be a testament to timeless elegance on your special day.

More Info Contact Us

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[hopeonmyphone]

J-Hope fills the void left by J-Hope [Vogue Korea]

BTS’ ‘military white flag’ is flawless. This time, J-Hope's presence fills the empty space.

Big Hit Music announced the release of J-Hope's special album .

The album to be released on March 29th is an album based on street dance, J-Hope's artistic roots. A total of 6 songs are included, which is expected to showcase the capabilities of solo artist J-Hope.

J-Hope also prepared another gift for his fans. It is a documentary series with the same title as the album.

J-Hope planned the album and documentary series organically from the beginning to express the message he wanted to convey in a more three-dimensional way. To this end, before enlisting, I visited Osaka, Japan, Paris, France, New York, USA, and Seoul and Gwangju, Korea, and had time to communicate through dance with dancers of various genres active there.

The documentary , which consists of a total of 6 episodes, will be broadcast for the first time at midnight on March 28th, the day before the album is released, and new episodes will be released every Thursday and Friday thereafter. You can watch it on TV and Prime Video.

Source: Vogue Korea