#ballet stretch band

[lovelyballetandmore]

Patrick Bruppacher | Universal Ballet

[ros3ybabes]

🎀 Workout Youtubers

I currently do exclusively pilates and yoga workouts from youtube. However, I've done other body weight workouts with various youtube videos and seen results in the past. Here is my list of workout youtubers that you could check out! I will put a * next to my personal favorites! I will include a short list of my current at home workout equipment at the end as well as some items I plan on buying soon!

With any workout program or routine, always be safe, check with your doctor if necessary, and if something doesn't feel good or right, don't do it! No matter what your goals are, it's always important to be safe and stay healthy. Please always take care of yourselves and know how beautiful, worthy and valuable you are no matter what! I love you all <333

🩷 Pilates

Move with Nicole * (also posts occasionally barre and yoga videos as well! I love her videos so so much)

Madeleine Abeid

IsaWelly

Pilatesbodyraven

Lidia Mera

Lottie Murphy

Amanda Blauer

Margaret Elizabeth

Jessica Valant Pilates

Bailey Brown

Dansique Fitness

Flow with Mira

Sivi (she's began posting some pilates inspired workouts and to my knowledge is currently getting certified as an instructor)

🩷 Yoga

Yoga with Adriene *

Yoga with Bird

Boho Beuatiful Yoga

🩷 Bodyweight Fitness/Strength/HIIT

Chloe Ting * (I don't like the click bait, but I like the workouts)

Blogilates

Pamela Reif *

Madfit *

Lilly Sabri * (Some of her videos are titled with pilates, but the older ones I used to do were not pilates, so I categorized her here)

Emi Wong

Shirlyn Kim

Vivian Yuan

April Han

growingannanas

growwithjo * (I love her walking workouts)

Hinafit

Mish Choi

Sami Clarke

Elenifit

Coach Kel (she posts what looks like more barre, ballet, pilates inspored/fusion workouts it seems)

Caroline Girvan

TRAIN WITH GAINSBYBRAINS

Daisy Keech

🎀 Current At Home Workout Equipment I Own

Thick Yoga Mat - since I do mainly yoga and pilates my thick yoga may (amazon brand) has served me well. Even tho I am a heavier woman at the moment, I've never had pain or any issues with this mat, and it came with a carry strap which I love! A good, thick workout mat is definitely necessary for working out at home for comfort, safety, etc. Make sure to disinfect it on occasion, especially if you sweat on it a lot!

Resistance Bands - I have about 3 or 4 at different resistance strengths, and they're incredibly useful for a variety of movements, especially lower body ones. They add some extra resistance and make the workouts a bit more challenging when you need something more advanced. I also got mine from Amazon/Walmart a while back. I prefer fabric over rubber because I like to wear workout shorts instead of workout leggings.

Pilates Ball - not a necessity, but useful with some pilates workouts and movements. I have seen sole videos using this, but am not advanced enough to try it on my own yet. Will use for sure once I'm more advanced.

3lb dumbbells - I thought these would be useful for the pilates workouts that had some upper body focus, and as someone who wants to develop a lean and toned upper body, they are perfect for low weight high rep, controlled movements. Again, not advanced enough to use as I want to master my form, but they're gonna come in handy for sure!

Foam Roller - so so good for stretching and muscle recovery on rest days. I love mine but want one that has the bump things on it to help my muscles more. I can imagine how good it'll feel on my legs during a recovery day when I begin wieght lifting again.

Massage Gun - my holy grail for the days I am sore and needing some recovery. my body feels like jelly after using this, and it's just so nice for the days my muscles feel extra tight and super sore.

🎀 Equipment I Want To Buy

Yoga Blocks - these will help me get deeper into the yoga poses once I get more advanced in my practice

Pilates Ring - this honestly looks so fun and challenging to use, I'd love to add it to my collection of useful workout equipment!

Jump Rope - I used to love this as a form of cardio and as long as I don't move into an upstairs apartment, I'm definitely buying one

Pilates Bar - still iffy on this one, it's supposed to mimic a reformer but I want to get better at mat pilates and see if I even end up ever needing or seriously wanting to buy it, its on my list tho

Ankle/Wrist weights - these are gonna be so useful for workouts where hand held dumbbells aren't useful. Want to buy some low weight ones just to help with resistance and extra strength during pilates workouts

Kettlebell weight - I think this would be useful for a workout at home type situation if and when I switch to not doing just pilates and yoga. I know these are useful in their own right, but not needed in my current fitness stage of life.

Core Sliders - these look fun and interesting. They're on my lost for sure, but not sure about the practicality of their use in my life just yet.

That's all that's currently on my at home workout equipment list! As someone who primarily works out at home, the things I currently own are most useful and most of what's on this list is for fun or extra challenge. Just not necessary yet.

hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any questions about my favorite youtuber workout instructors or favorite videos, please feel free to ask, I've tried so many and can give some guidance from my own experience and research.

til next time lovelies 🩷

[nausicaamusiclover20]

So, apparently my crush on James reached the stage when just reading stories isn’t enough, I have to start requesting them)))

Black album James x ballerina reader (pretty please smut), where he’s just obsessed with their size difference and the fact that she’s very flexible? Like she pretty much drowns in his shirts, her hands are fragile compared to his, etc? one day, he comes to hotel after sound check and sees her doing her stretches in his shirt and her pointe shoes and that’s too much for him? He just has to make love to her? Maybe he is making references to Beaty and the beast ballet? Like James, the beast (metal band, rough guy, always grumpy) finally captured his beauty and will not let her go?

Thank you))

I hope you like it!❤

Warnings: Explicit Content,Adult Themes, Sexual Content light Possessiveness, Physical Intimacy

___________

In the Arms of the Beast

I didn’t hear the door open—I was too lost in my stretches, the slow pull of muscles and the grounding rhythm of my breath keeping me focused. The air in the hotel room was still, save for the faint rustle of fabric as I moved. James’s shirt, massive on me, slipped over one shoulder as I bent forward, palms flat against the floor.

The shirt smelled like him—leather, a touch of smoke, and something warm I could never quite name. It made me feel wrapped in him, even when he wasn’t here.

I was midway through a stretch, my legs extended in a perfect split, when a familiar growl broke the silence.

“You trying to kill me, darlin’?”

I jerked upright, my heart skipping a beat. Turning my head, I found him standing there, his broad frame nearly filling the doorway. His boots were still on, his hair slightly mussed from the day’s soundcheck, and his eyes… Oh, God, his eyes. They were locked on me like a predator that had found its prey.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He didn’t move, just stood there, drinking me in. His gaze traveled slowly, lingering on my legs, then the shirt that barely reached the tops of my thighs. His expression darkened, his lips curling into a crooked grin that sent a shiver down my spine. “Hell of a sight to walk into.”

Heat flooded my face, and I tried to play it off, standing and brushing down the oversized shirt. “I was just stretching.”

“Stretching,” he repeated, his voice low and rough, like gravel under heavy boots. He finally moved, stepping closer, and my pulse quickened. “You look like you’re dancing for me.”

I laughed nervously, though his intensity made it hard to breathe. “It’s not like that.”

But he was already closing the distance, his big hands finding my waist. His palms were rough against my skin, but his touch was gentle, reverent even. “You’re drowning in this shirt,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over the fabric. “Look at you. So damn tiny.”

My hands instinctively rested on his forearms, the contrast between us impossible to ignore. His arms were solid, his muscles thick and corded under my fingers. Next to his, my hands looked fragile, almost doll-like. He noticed it too, his gaze dropping to where I touched him, a quiet groan escaping his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice soft but loaded with something raw. “Like somethin’ out of a story. Beauty and the Beast.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could, his hand slid up, tilting my chin so I was looking right into those piercing eyes. The next thing I knew, his lips were on mine, warm and commanding. The kiss stole my breath, every bit of him consuming me in the best way.

His hands moved, gripping my hips as he pulled me against him. “Mine,” he growled against my lips. The word sent a thrill down my spine. “You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go.”

My heart pounded as I clung to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me to the bed like I weighed nothing at all. His shirt rode up as he laid me down, exposing my bare legs and the ribbons of my pointe shoes.

He paused, hovering over me, his eyes dark with hunger. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

“James…” I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and desire.

His hands were everywhere—exploring, testing. He bent my leg, his touch slow and deliberate, as though marveling at my flexibility. His grin turned wicked as I arched beneath him, a soft gasp slipping from my lips.

“Shh, darlin’,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to my neck. His teeth grazed my skin, sending a jolt of heat through me, and then his tongue followed, soothing the spot. “Let me take care of you.”

James’s hands slid under the oversized shirt I wore, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of my stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His eyes darkened as he glanced up at me, a low growl escaping his throat.

“Fuck, baby, you look so good in this shirt. But it’s in the way,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I need to see you.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I lifted my arms as he tugged the shirt up and over my head, throwing it to the side without a second thought. I was left exposed before him, my skin flushed and my breath shallow as he took in the sight of me, his gaze almost possessive.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he muttered, his voice rough as his hands traced down my arms, over my shoulders, and to the curve of my waist. His touch was like fire, leaving me aching for more.

His lips trailed along my neck, his breath hot against my skin, before moving lower, over my collarbone. As his hands gently cupped my breasts, I gasped at the feeling of his thumbs brushing over my nipples, hardening at his touch.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his mouth descending further, kissing along the top of my chest before moving to one nipple. He flicked his tongue over the hardened peak, sending a shiver through me.

I arched into him, my hands tangling in his hair as he lavished attention on me, his beard brushing against my skin in a way that made my entire body hum with pleasure. The sensation was both tender and intense, and I couldn't help but moan softly, feeling my body come alive under his touch.

But it was the way his hands moved, the way his fingers lightly traced the curve of my hips, that drove me wild. The gentleness with which he treated me, as though I were something precious, only added to the fire building inside.

"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling. It was a plea, though I didn’t know for what exactly, only that I needed him to make me feel.

With a soft chuckle, he pulled away for a moment, eyes dark with desire. "You’re so eager, darlin’. I’m not going anywhere. Just need to take my time with you."

His words, those quiet promises of patience, set my heart racing. Slowly, he lowered his body, kissing his way down my chest, over my stomach, and further still, until he hovered between my legs.

His eyes locked with mine, filled with a heat that made my breath catch. "Let me taste you, baby," he whispered, his voice hushed, reverent.

The words, the way he said them, stirred something deep within me. I parted my legs slightly, giving him the space he needed, feeling my pulse quicken with every inch closer he came.

 Suddenly, he lifted me effortlessly, pressing me against the cool wall, enveloping me with his warmth. I  felt my heart beating faster, his strong frame looming over me in a possessive yet gentle way. The heat of his body radiated against mine, sending shivers of anticipation down my spine.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending a thrill through me. "I couldn’t resist. You’re just too tempting right now."

“Maybe I wanted you to,” I whispered back, feeling bold, excitement dancing in my chest.

Before I could respond further, he leaned in, capturing my mouth with his. His kiss was electrifying—hunger mixed with tenderness—as he poured his desires into the moment. I melted into him, my hands instinctively sliding into his hair, gripping the soft strands as he began to explore.

He broke the kiss to trail his lips along my jawline and down to my neck, where he lingered, his breath hot against my skin. I gasped, tilting my head back, giving him better access. “God, you taste so good,” he breathed against my collarbone.

“Then don’t stop,” I urged, shivering at his words.

As if sensing my need, he slowly sank to his knees in front of me, his eyes smoldering with intensity. I felt vulnerable yet safe under his gaze, my body aching for him.

“Please, James,” I begged softly, my voice barely above a whisper, my fingers curling tighter in his hair, a mixture of desperation and exhilaration coursing through me.

With a smirk, he leaned closer, his warm breath brushing against my core. “Just relax, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said, his tone both commanding and soothing. And then he buried his face between my thighs.

The sensation was overwhelming—his tongue skillfully teasing me as he explored every inch of my softness. I gasped, the pleasure sending jolts of electricity coursing through me. I couldn’t help but rock my hips closer, urging him on, craving every pleasurable flick.

“James,” I moaned, the sound of his name spilling from my lips like a sweet invitation. His smirk against me made my heart race even faster.

“Feel good, baby?” he murmured, pausing briefly. The wicked look in his eyes only fueled my desire.

“More than you can imagine,” I breathed, arching my back, desperate for more. “Don’t stop, please…”

As he continued, I felt myself teetering on the edge, every flick of his tongue driving me closer. “You’re so good at this,” I panted, lost in the moment. “You know how much I crave this.”

“Only the best for you,” he replied between teasing kisses, his voice low and sultry. He paused and gave me a look filled with heat. “You deserve to be spoiled, babe.”

With my hands gripping his hair tighter, I pulled him closer. “Then spoil me.”

He was relentless, his mouth devouring me in a way that sent shockwaves through my body. “You’re delicious,” he said, a hint of possessiveness lacing his words. “I could stay here all night.”

“God, James,” I gasped, feeling another wave of pleasure building inside me. “I’m—”

He cut me off with a hard, swift move, pushing me over the edge, and I cried out in ecstasy. Colors exploded behind my eyelids as waves of bliss washed over me.

When I finally came down from my high, he stood, brushing his lips against mine with a possessive smirk. “You okay?” he asked, concern mingling with the raw desire in his eyes.

“Better than okay,” I whispered, feeling electric currents still dancing through my body. “Now I want you.”

His brow arched playfully, desires swirling like a tempest in his eyes. “You think you can handle me?” he teased, leaning closer.

I smirked back, feeling daring. “I’ve handled you before, haven’t I?”

“Touché,” he said with a chuckle, but his expression turned serious. “You ready for this?”

“Always,” I assured him, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

With a single motion, he lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around him as he pressed me against the wall. I could feel him, hard and ready, throbbing against my core, and the intensity made my breath quicken. “You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you?” he said, his voice thick with need.

“Only for you,” I breathed. “Always for you.”

He grinned wickedly, his breath ghosting across my ear. “Then let’s see how much you can take.” With that, he sank into me in one smooth motion, and I gasped as he filled me completely.

“God, yes,” I breathed, losing myself in the sensation. “You feel incredible.”

“Damn right I do,” he growled, driving deeper. “And you’re mine.”

The rhythm of our bodies colliding filled the air, the sound a symphony of passion and urgency. “Look at me, Y/N,” he demanded, his eyes locked onto mine. I nodded, surrendering completely to him, my heart racing as I matched his intensity.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he urged, his breath ragged.

“James, it feels—oh god, it feels amazing,” I moaned, my body arching against his. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“That's right, baby. I want to hear you say it. I want you to remember how good I make you feel,” he said, his voice low and dark, sending shivers up my spine.

“James, you make me feel so good,” I whimpered, desperate for him. “Don’t stop. Just like that.”

With each thrust, he buried himself deeper, igniting flames of pleasure that threatened to consume me. The heat between us crackled, the world beyond us fading to nothing as we lost ourselves in each other.

“C’mon, babe. Let it go for me,” he urged, his voice a gravelly whisper as he picked up the pace, the need pushing both of us toward the brink.

“James, I’m so close,” I gasped, urgency flooding my voice.

“Then let go for me,” he commanded, thrusting harder, each movement focused solely on driving me to that sweet release. I could feel myself slipping, my breath hitching.

With one final deep thrust, I came undone, a wave of pleasure crashing over me, drawing out a desperate cry that echoed in the room. I felt him surge with me, his grip tightening as he lost himself inside me, his own moans harmonizing with mine.

In the aftermath, as our breaths mingled, he cradled my face in his hands, his touch gentle amidst the overwhelming intensity. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, his eyes softening as they bore into mine.

I smiled, relishing the aftermath of our passion. “So are you,” I replied, my fingers trailing along his jaw. “You always know how to make me feel amazing.”

He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “And I’ll keep making you feel that way, because you deserve it.”

With a warmth filling my chest, I leaned in and pressed my lips against his once more, feeling grateful for this moment and the man who held me so tenderly yet fiercely. In James’ arms, I knew I had found something extraordinary.

[irisfixation]

an invite to a show

(experimental writing piece. cw: trance-y language and a gently unsettling atmosphere, perhaps.)

Having a local kinkster acquaintance (in the midst of a play party, no less) ask if you'd like to go see a dance together was somewhat unusual, you'd thought at the time. Even more surprising was the here and now, as you passed between stall and stage, past tent and warehouse, through the local fringe festival, only to find yourself set up in front of a relatively regular theater stage.

Same half-ringed stage. Same curtains; same rows of seats (lower than usual, and with less capacity); same lights, set and framed just as any other, just beyond eye level. They nearly blind you as you step in from the mid-evening blues beyond.

There were other things in the festival you could have expected them to take you in. Adults-only shows, bondage showcases, risque dances in skimpy outfits, stage hypnosis routines, et cetera.

This was clearly not one of those. The banner image just outside the entrance was some classical ballet routine - you didn't recognize it off-hand - and aside from you and your friend you didn't particularly notice anyone else from your little band of Weird Horny Folks™.

Why the hell here in particular? The question bemused as much as it fascinated, really. Was it some elaborate setup, was one of the actors someone they knew? Was this merely an attempt at socializing that went too far? Is this a date?

You look to the one who invited you here. You phrased some of these confusions already when they told you, of course, but they'd just smiled and said a few words of consolation. "I dunno, it could be a date if you wanted it to be" - that kind of flirting, just vague enough to be played off.

Well, either way, you'd be finding out soon enough. A stagehand in shades of burgundy pulls the entrance door to, filtering out first the last streams of sunset light from the entryway, then the chatter and commotion of the festival beyond. The susurration of fellow viewers' friendly chatter dies down to whispers, then naught. The lights dim, slowly yet fluidly.

The curtains pull fully back, the shifting of fabric sliding smoothly across your ears. A beam of light alights upon the very center of the stage. Upon a woman.

She stands there with purpose, the stillness of a bowstring pulled taut, meeting the gaze of the audience before her. Meeting your gaze, within it.

Wordlessly, her chin dips; her arms move to the side as she curtseys. A slow, deep movement.

And then she begins to dance.

You watch, waiting, as she moves. It is a slow thing; hardly a fast-paced spectacle, but possessing of a certain confidence in each of its movements. A turn. A stretch. A slow stride across the stage, each step made as if in slow-motion.

She continues on; somewhere between a ballet and the movements of a sleepwalker. There's a certain sense of autopilot within it, like that of an automaton carrying out procedures done many times before. Of a familiarity that rejects haste.

There's always a certain intentionality to art; a piece of art preserved in a gallery is not so different from something placed on the street, after all. (As the old adage on abstract art goes: "I could have made this!" "But you didn't.") The woman's movements, you think, are similar; you could have easily passed the person in front of you in the street and barely notice. But right now, as you sit and watch, there is an intent clear and pure enough to reject any attempts to turn away.

Her movement winds down. She drifts to the center of the stage, and slowly but certainly ceases her movement.

The moment is heavy, hushed, oppressive. Her gaze holds above it almost tirelessly.

You and her remain there; you rooted to your seat, her anticipant in place, the outside world less than a whisper.

Slowly but surely, she raises an arm. You watch each micromovement as it happens, as her fingers splay out and knucklebones play against taut skin, the muscles across elbow and shoulder tensing, as tufts of her hair brush aside and she places a sole outstretched finger upon her cheek.

There is no music as she moves. None of the crowd says anything, and looking at them would mean missing whatever might come next, so you remain as you are, a body waiting in place for more of the act.

Her index finger, outstretched, traces down slowly but surely, a record needle's slide across grooves intended for teardrops. The edge of her nail moves with painstaking time, alights upon the edge of the lips, sways nigh-imperceptibly to and fro as it waits to move down again. You watch, focus more directed into making sure you see the next moment than it is your body.

It moves down again, slipping across to just beneath the chin. The stage seems to flutter, dreamlike; a buzzing inside scalp and forehead. A tension.

Further downwards, continuing its inexorable journey to just atop her sternum. You watch. (Some part of you wants to watch further down still, but it relents for the time being.) She raises it, phalanges pulling back, the tension within and without building, a bowstring drawn back;

She taps, just once, and you exhale, and the moment is broken and released from tension, and the world sucks in a breath all at once, and the buzz in your head slowly, patiently falls away.

឵឵ ឵឵ ឵឵ ឵឵ ឵឵ ឵឵ ឵឵ ឵឵ ឵឵ ឵឵឵ ឵឵ ឵឵

A warm crescent moon and the warmer lights of the festival greet you as you leave. Your friend flicks their eyes to you momentarily as you exit the building, trying to prompt your opinion out of you.

You don't know. The stint of time inside the theater seemed to slip by before you could process through it all. You tell them simply that it was neat enough; that seems to sate them, and it's not nearly as important as things such as getting back on route after all.

It's gotten late far darker than you expected, after all. Time has moved by and left you in place, and you need to get home.

You'll have time to think properly another day.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Where the Meadow Meets the Tide

Word Count: 859

Warnings: None

Silver the Hedgehog x Fem! Reader

Note- You are mobian, a silly little merhog!

Also yall should check our our latest poll

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The meadow stretched out like a soft green blanket, speckled with vibrant wildflowers that swayed in rhythm with the gentle breeze. Silver loved this spot, where the air smelled of fresh grass and the nearby lake reflected the sky like a shimmering mirror. This meadow was a haven, a retreat from the weight of the future, and most importantly, it was their place.

He sat under the towering oak tree that marked their usual meeting spot, its roots twisting into the ground like nature’s sculpture. A beam of sunlight filtered through the leaves, warming his silver fur as he adjusted the bracelet on his wrist—a gift she had given him weeks ago. It was simple, made of woven seaweed and tiny shells, but to him, it was priceless.

The stillness of the moment was broken by a soft splash. Silver perked up, a smile creeping onto his face as he turned toward the lake. The water rippled before her sleek, aquamarine figure broke the surface. Her scales shimmered in shades of aquamarine and teal, catching the sunlight and reflecting it like a cascade of tiny rainbows. With a playful giggle, she pushed herself onto the grassy bank, her fins gracefully propelling her forward until she was sitting beside Silver under the protective canopy of the oak tree.

“Silver!” she called, brushing her damp hair back. “Sorry I’m late. I got distracted exploring an underwater cave—you won’t believe what I found!”

Silver laughed, the sound carrying through the meadow. “Let me guess: another treasure trove of shiny rocks and coral?”

“Better!” she said, crawling toward him. “There was this tunnel, and at the end, it opened into a cavern filled with glowing crystals. It was like something out of a dream.” Her wide, sparkling eyes mirrored the wonder of her discovery. “I even brought you this.” She opened her palm to reveal a small, iridescent shard of crystal.

Silver reached out to take it, his gloved hand brushing against her wet fingers. “Wow, it’s beautiful,” he said, holding it up to the light. The crystal caught the sunlight, casting tiny rainbows across his fur. “Just like your stories.”

She giggled, her laughter as bright and pure as the glimmers of light dancing on the lake. “You’re such a sap.”

“And you’re such a dreamer,” Silver teased, patting the grass beside him. She scooted closer, her tail curling around her as she leaned against the tree.

Their conversations flowed as effortlessly as the wind through the meadow. She talked about the schools of fish she’d seen that week, their shimmering scales creating a dazzling underwater ballet. Silver shared tales of his recent adventures, from thwarting a band of rogue robots to helping rebuild a village that had been destroyed.

“You know,” she said after a moment, “I don’t know how you do it. Always running off to save the world and still finding time to sit here with me.”

Silver shrugged, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “I guess I just like being here. With you.”

Her heart skipped at his words, but she played it off with a grin. “Well, I like having you here too. It gets lonely when you’re not around.”

As they talked, their movements became unconscious but deliberate. Her hand would brush against his as she gestured, and his shoulder would press lightly against hers when he shifted. It wasn’t forced—it was as if they were naturally drawn to each other, like the tide to the shore.

“Here,” she said suddenly, reaching into the small pouch she always carried. She pulled out another bracelet, this one woven with blue and white seaweed and adorned with tiny pearls. “I made this for you.”

Silver’s golden eyes widened. “You made me another one?”

“Well, yeah,” she said, a little shy now. “The first one was nice, but I thought you could use something… sturdier. For all those battles you keep running into.”

He took it reverently, his fingers brushing hers again. “You’re amazing, you know that? Thank you.” He slipped it onto his wrist, admiring the craftsmanship. “It’s perfect.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that only close friends could share. The sun was starting to dip toward the horizon, painting the meadow in hues of orange and gold. The breeze carried the sweet scent of wildflowers and the faint, salty tang of the lake.

Silver glanced at her, his heart pounding in his chest. She looked so peaceful, her gaze fixed on the horizon, the fading sunlight casting a golden glow on her features. He opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, then finally said, “Is it okay to kiss you?”

She turned to him, her eyes wide and bright. Then, a soft smile spread across her face, and she leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, it is.”

Silver felt his cheeks burn, but he couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. She leaned back, her shoulder brushing his as she settled against the tree. The world felt warm and alive around them, but for Silver, the only thing that mattered was you beside him.

[mysticficti0n]

Okay first of all I love your work😭 like it literally keeps me going!!

ANYWAYS! I had a request for a fluff tom fic where the reader and Tom are together and the reader is a ballerina and she comes home super tired from rehearsals n such and Tom just comforts her (I hope it makes sense😭) (maybe a lil suggestive👀👀 BUT YOU DONT HAVE TOO!) just an overall very cute and fluffy fic!! Idk i just thought I’d be cute😩

Thank uu :) <3

NO NO NO I LOVE THIS ITS SUCH A CUTE IDEA 🤭

(all my attention will be back soon but I'm taking time to do some request as I have so many and all you guys have such good ideas!)

∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞

My little dancer

warnings- swearing, then just pure cutie Tom

words- 942

Lugging my bag up the stairs I finally breathed seeing my apartment door, ballet killed me today I didn't realise how stiff I'd feel after just stretching let alone doing the routine and now my whole body feels like- shit I feel like shit

I pulled my key from the pocket, stuffing it in to the keyhole and unlocked the door, the slight hum of the tv welcomed me in and the smell of something good cooking "Tom?" I called for my boyfriend, he was usually on the sofa or in the kitchen when round my place but he was in neither today. I placed my bag by the door and made my way to my bedroom, I pushed the door open to see him making the bed "hey babe" I went to him wrapping my arm around his waist

"WHAT THE FU-" he shouted not realising it was me "fuck Y/n I didn't know you would be back yet" he spun round taking me in his arms pressing a kiss to my forehead "how was it?"

"okay, I don't feel like I did that great though, after stretching my body went like a rock and I could barely hold a position then it came to doing my actual routine and- it was horrible, I'm surprised I wasn't pulled up after class for it" I huffed letting my head fall onto his chest again, feeling tears prick my eyes "its pathetic but I just feel so stupid I should've been able to do it" Tom's arms tightened softly around me, the warmth soothing the pains

"I think your to critical of yourself doll" I shook my head "see your doing it now- look why don't we just relax tonight, I don't need to be anywhere- you don't need to be anywhere, just me and you tonight, I'm making (Your fave food), so?"

"that sounds good" I sniffled looking up into his gentle brown eyes "thank you" I stood on my tip toes to reach his lips and press a small kiss to them, then a few more kisses just to be safe

"why don't you get changed- I can help if you want?" he wiggled his eyebrows looking back at me with a playful grin

"I can do that thank you, plus you need to be back in the kitchen Gordon Ramsey" I poked seeing the boy pout at my answer "well actually you do need to unzip my-" before I could even finish his fingers were pulling the zip down then pulling the leotard of my shoulders freeing my arms "thank you"

"no problem- I like that being my job every Wednesday" we laughed as his hands drew shapes on my bare back "okay, you change, I'll do food, then you?" a suggestive smirk lay hopeful on his face, his lip ring spinning as he played with it

"only if you make this (your favourite food) good" he pressed one last kiss to my lips and left the room, closing the door so I could get changed, I slipped into some baby pink shorts and one of my comfy shirts that went to just above my thighs, I quickly untied my hair and brushed it back to how it usually looks, lastly wiping away my make up I had to wear and went back into the living room, Tom was stood in the kitchen staring at the tv "it smells so good in here"

"ooh you look nice" I blushed at his words rolling my eyes "this is basically done so wanna eat now or wait?" I decided that I wanted to eat, I was so unbelievably hungry. Together we sat on my sofa, watching MTV and smiling when the band appeared on an advert

"aww look Tom!" I hummed seeing his old dreads as he rocked his head to whatever song was playing at the time, he smiled at me now with long black braids, he looked beautiful with either in my eyes. I finished my food and fell back into the sofa with a happy sigh "Tom that was literally amazing!" I grinned leaning over giving him a peck on the cheek then standing as I went to take our plates but he just looked blankly at me "I'll do dishes just pass it over"

"will you sit down" I knew this wasn't a question so I sat myself down and watched as Tom went to the sink dropping them all in, wiping his hands and came back to me "you told me you were hurting so why would I make you stand up and do more then you already have hm?" his back was against the arm of the chair, his one leg resting open on the pillows I took it as an opportunity to curl up to him, my body straddled his hips, hands around his neck and head resting on his collar bone

"I dunno" he laughed pressing a kiss to my head before lying down more to be comfy, as the tv played in the background I stayed entangled with the boy matching his breathing and relaxing into his body, his hands drew circles around my back and up to my shoulders, I could feel my eyes getting heavier and heavier, the world fading between sleep and reality. soon his hand fingers made its way to my hair, combing through it with ease over and over, I herd him speak but I couldn't make out the words as I finally closed my eyes and let sleep wash over me- I am so lucky to have Tom- was the last thing I thought to myself

[sollattes]

"he was a punk, they did ballet"

Odajima yuken x reader

Yuken watches in amusement as his partner beats the hell out their pointe shoes while listening to an avrile laveign song.

His partner was the master of duality, one minute they could be a grungey angsty teenager the next second they are one of the most graceful swans on stage you have ever seen, and he loves that so much about them.

They once wrestled the shit out of monji, in pointe shoes and won. IN POINTE SHOES. Yuken thinks he just fell deeper.

They noticed that yuken was staring a bit too intensely. "What are you looking at yu?" They said, not even sparing a glance at yuken and just removed their headphones, placing it on their neck while still continuing to make adjustments in their Pointe shoes

"You're just really incredible lovely, that's all." yuken did not stop making heart eyes at his partner for the whole time.

"You need to go in a few yu, my practice is about to start." Finally, they finished making the adjustments and glanced at the clock to look at what time was it.

"Why can't I stay and watch you?" Yuken gave his best puppy eyes to them, hoping it would work to let him stay here and just admire their beauty.

"Because sachio would probably kill you for neglecting your gang duties and he would kill me for making you neglect your gang duties" they finished tying the ribbon of their shoes, kissed yuken's forehead and so they proceeded to do their warm up.

Yuken still had a few minutes before he needed to go back to housen so he just sat there, adoring his partner. He noticed how different yet similar they were to the other dancers.

They were practicing in one of yuken's old band tees unlike the other ballerina who were wearing their leotards already, though yuken was pretty sure they were wearing their leotard underneath his band tee, similarly they were already gracefully stretching and bubbly interacting with the others.

Their black nail polish, that he helped paint last night, really stood out from the others, though their pretty blush pink stockings blended with the others perfectly.

Oh, how he loves them so much.

Maybe next time, he would beg sachio for more time just to admire his pretty grungey ballerina

[veloursdor]

n'est pas assez

1,210 words. Larycent Ballet AU

Alicent wants to be a prima ballerina, Larys will be there to make it a reality

“That’s not what I asked,” Alicent heard him say from the back of the room, her muscles tensing when she sensed him approaching her from behind.

Her hand holding onto the barre tightened, worried — for a split second — that it would break, causing a splinter to get under one of her nails. She tightened her muscles once more, making sure her posture was perfect, before she looked down, wondering what he was talking about.

The end of his cane tapped the outside of her thigh, making her squeeze them harder, begging for her balance to not fail her. Her left hand, raised above her head in a perfect third position, obscured her peripheral vision, keeping him in the shadows.

She could sense his presence, acutely attuned to his every movement, his every breathing. He was close by, looming over her, but looking away from the dot in the wall where her sight was meant to be resting was unthinkable.

She didn’t want to know what the punishment would be if she looked at him.

“Sir?” She asked in that voice he liked, in the moniker he had ordered her to address him as, making sure that her chin was up.

“You call that a fifth position?” His cane tapped her pointed toes, wanting her to stumble and fall. She held on tighter to the barre, bringing her feet closer together.

“When you’re in fifth on releve, I have to see a single line, Alicent,” he said despondent, letting out a sigh as his cane disappeared from her sight. “I’m not seeing a single line.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, voice low and soft as she pressed her legs even closer together, the inside of her thighs pressed against one another so tight, she could feel the muscle straining.

The sound of his cane tapping against the wooden floor made sweat drip down her back. Her legs were trembling due to the effort she was applying on them, but she held on tight, her grip on the barre making her knuckles turn white.

“You may rest,” he said, sounding bored, before his voice turned hard and cold once more, “but don’t forget to pass through plie. Wouldn’t want your knees to suffer, would we?”

He was mocking her, as he always did. She was sure of it.

She did her best to remain as upright as possible while bending her knees in a perfect lie, letting her energy flow through her hands as she went from third, to second, before ending in first. She let go of the barre to complete first position, making sure the tips of her middle fingers were touching. She looked down to check that her thumbs were indeed held across her middle fingers, as last time she had forgotten Larys had forced her to have a band around her hand, forcing her fingers to be in the right position.

Her body remembered every physical sensation he had made her endure in their path for her to become a prima ballerina. Day in and day out, they would stay from dawn till dusk, until her feet were bleeding and her muscles were cramped, practising every position, every movement. Ron de jambe, tendu, arabesque, pirouettes; he was always there, circling around her, making sure every muscle was in place, not a single thing out of order.

His eyes would roam through her body, cataloguing every tick, every tremble. His gaze felt like blazing fire on her skin, but she always made sure to keep her position up tight, casting aside the way it made her skin tingle.

She looked outside the window, unsurprised to see it was dark out. She let out a soft exhale as her muscles relaxed, screaming in pain as she did another plie, hoping to alleviate the tension she could feel inside of her.

“Stretch before you leave,” he said, sounding closer than she expected, startling her from her thoughts.

She turned around, surprised to see him a foot away from her. She looked up, straining her neck in order to look into his eyes. His long hair fell at the sides of his face, casting shadows above his features, but Alicent felt a pang in her heart at the bored expression she saw on his face.

She looked away as she bent down, reaching for her toes with the tip of her fingers. She let out an exhale as she placed the palms of her hands on the floor, feeling her muscles stretch as she did so.

She rolled down, ending with her knees bent underneath her torso, while her hands were stretched above her head, her palms still firmly on the floor. She could feel him looming over her, his gaze intently on her back, but for once, she paid it no mind, inhaling and exhaling every time she tried to walk her hands further away from her body.

She straightened up and stretched her arms above her head, feeling the muscles pop as she did so. She uncurled her legs and stretched them across for her, creating a perfect L when she saw herself in the mirror.

She bent down once more, wanting to grab the soles of her feet with her hands. However, she was still not flexible enough to do what she desired, so she continued breathing, hoping it would help her bend down further.

The touch of his hands circling her waist startled her, making her jump in fright. His grip was tight, scorching, and Alicent let it happen as his hands travelled from her waist to her back. He pressed down, making her chest touch the top of her thighs, his touch burning her even through the layer of her leotard.

“Breathe,” he ordered her, his breath warm against the skin of her neck, before he pushed her down once more, making her hands circle her feet.

She breathed in and out, with him kneeling at her back and pressing down on her, afraid of his touch but desperate for more. Larys always created dual yet opposite sensations in her body, exactly like ballet required of her.

When in plie, she needed to think of someone pulling a string above her head as her lower half of the body pressed down on the ground. While around Larys, she felt both appalled and entranced at who he was and what he demanded of her. He liked to watch the way her feet bleed after she removed her pointe shoes, a delirious look on his face as he remembered the way he had her doing pirouette after pirouette, until she was dizzy on her feet.

But she also liked the way his hands felt on her body, the way his long fingers would so delicately touch her. He never fully grabbed her, always touching her with just his fingertips, leaving her craving for more.

“You can go now,” he said after a moment, removing his presence from her back.

She stayed where she was, her muscles trembling as she grabbed onto the sole of her feet. She listened to the way he retreated out of the studio, the sound of his cane echoing in the empty room.

She let out an exhale, already waiting for their next practice to begin.

[princelylove]

OMG Your Highness Fugo canonically wears a thong!! i can't believe it nbjdukjdsnf i just read it and was like huh? 😭 i searched it and it is truee

Pannacotta wearing a thong has always made total sense to me for his character, and for his design. You don’t wear cut-outs riiiiight below your belt and wear briefs with them, you’d be showing the world whatever pattern you chose this morning. 

What about the rest of Team Bucciarati's underwear, though?

I’m very big on ‘fem Giorno is canon and the cast just doesn’t realize it,’ although I’ve only publicly written for masc Giorno, which is a shame. Giorno is the type of girl whose bra always matches her underwear, she normally buys sets or pairs that match her bras. Her bras are wired, without padding, lord knows she doesn't need it. (DIO's genes wouldn't allow for a small chest, even if Giorno's ballet experience has made her thin, they're still There, just not absurdly big either.) The patterns are usually- you guessed it- roses and solid pale pinks or whites. Her underwear is just as ornate and delicate as you’d think- tons of lace, lots of bows, and a feeling like you're about to sell your soul if you remove them.

You can see the band of Guido's underwear when he stretches. He normally alternates between boxers and tight fitting trunks. Guido is the type of guy to be in absolute heaven if his fem darling were to give him her underwear- he'd wear them. It's like a special secret, and you're touching, even if it's not direct.... He's such a simple man. Guido normally buys high end clothes (my source is the very same interview that this anon cited, but I can link it as necessary), his philosophy naturally extends to his underwear. As for patterns, solid grey and black are fine, but he likes a little animal print too.

Trish is a victoria’s secret kinda girl, although she has some dolce & gabbana lingerie that she deeply treasures, and often wears as regular tops. Either Trish canonically wears push up bras, or Guido mistook her sizing whatever other bra she had on down for a push up, because of the tightness. Guido is not a reliable source, but I'm going to say that she likes push up bras because it's a very classic victoria's secret choice. As for her underwear, she probably favors bikini cuts or brazilians. She likes animal prints, stripes, and underwear with words on it. A pair with 'EAT ME' on the front is her favorite.

Narancia wears loose, non-clingy trunks. He gets upset if you tease him for wearing 'short' underwear, but doesn't exactly stop. Narancia likes breathable underwear, which is ironic, considering he prefers his tops to be tight fitting. He likes silly patterns, but he doesn't realize it doesn't come off as super mature. His favorite is a pair with cookies and crumbs on it. Narancia isn't the type to hand wash his delicates, he just throws them into the wash regardless of their material.

Leone either wears clingy trunks or trunk briefs. I'm not sure if that's the proper name for it, but I mean the one that looks like women's hipsters. He's fond of compression underwear, just without padding. He's got too much pride for padding, and doesn't really need it. Leone likes a little bit of lace on his hips, but finds it annoying to have them on his legs. Most of his underwear is pure black, but some of them have white lace instead. A few pairs have veeeery small ribbons on them in the front, with little charms on it. Yes, the charms are normally a small, metal 'A.'

Bruno is the type to switch between women's lingerie and very basic men's boxer briefs, depending on what he's going to do that day. For the women's lingerie, he likely prefers cheeky underwear or just thongs, as long as they're similar to the tattoo on his chest. For the boxer briefs, he prefers clingy types that go to his mid thigh. He wears the thongs significantly more than the boxer briefs.

[ellecdc]

i Will share this because i wouldn’t sleep knowing i deprived so many fellow marauders era obsessed so here it is…. (for context) had my first pilates class ever (and i should point out that it was easy peasy because #ballet trauma) and im sick from marauders AND barty x regulus (cant remember their name but yeah) fever so here is my point:

imagine a modern au with them going to a pilates class oh my god i would pay MILLIONS!!!! to see that….

i feel like james would ace it like the sporty cool person he is.

remus wouldn’t even bother to try he’d just sit out after stretching and watch the chaos happen…

sirius and regulus???? with their classically trained experience? (re:trauma) they’d give the instructor a run for their money but i do see sirius trying to show off to remus like ‘moony oh my god are u seeing how good my ass looks right now?’ vs regulus who is actually paying attention to the instructor and secretly wondering how he can fit this class into his schedule because its relaxing and has the elements he enjoyed from ballet without the actual pain and trauma and hes SOLD!!!!!

now barty…. OH BARTY!!!!!! he would be the most chaotic of them all. i literally cannot even explain like would even start calling certain stuff sex toys and the instructor would be like ‘no barty those are specific pilates bands’ and since he has the attention span of a monkey he would immediately zone them out and take out those big balls (he OBVIOUSLY made a sex joke about it) and start bouncing over them around the class… long story short by the end of the class there would be a sign with his face saying DO NOT LET THIS MAN ENTER! not before telling regulus to take notes of every for class so they can try everything later (wink wink… and somewhere in the background the instructor: ‘BARTY! OUT!’)

bonus points if the reader is the instructor so they all come back next week cause they’re Obsessed and reader is like oh my god… im quitting…

yeah i had to get this out heheheheh ill get out of the chatbox before i gwt too carried away

-📷

POOR READER omg hahahaha ‘do not let this man enter’

[insert-clever-username-1133]

i have discovered i can prank myself.

like in ballet we had an exercise class so I could take out my bun and i arranged all my bobby pins in my stretching band thingy such that when I picked it up they would go everywhere. and i was like "no way im forgetting about that by the end of class." but i did

i also drew loss.jpg behind the couch where only i fit (im the youngest in my family) and i went back there later and got jumpscared by it

[lovelyballetandmore]

Denys Cherevychko | Vienna State Ballet (Wiener Staatsballett)

[evilhasnever]

here’s some fluffy xiyao drabble prompts! i hope one of them strikes your fancy ☺️

xichen meeting rusong or something to do with a sleepy rusong)

something to do with spice tolerance or a gift of unliked food (not alcohol)

one of them has never done X—the other one is surprised, and seeks to remedy this immediately

one of them finds out about an unusual/uncharacteristic hobby the other one has

modern AU: xichen loves being festive for ANY holiday, and wants to do something ayao thinks is just so, so cringe

modern AU: xiyao goes swing dancing (look up aerials for some inspiration 👀)

modern AU: xiyao goes to daiso/the dollar store

I zeroed in on swing dancing immediately 👀 (but I might come back for the other prompts later!)

Modern AU - Connection

“I’ve been thinking we should pick up a new hobby. Something we can do together.”

Jin Guangyao smiles and rubs his husband’s nape with a light hand, eyes still glued to his laptop. “We do yoga, play tabletop and play duets sometimes. Don’t we have plenty of activities we do together, ge?” 

“But they aren’t traditional couples activities,” Xichen insists, his ears pinkening, “for couples.” Ah, so that’s what it is. Married life has made Lan Xichen more inclined to show off, much to Jin Guangyao’s delight. 

“I will gladly review my husband’s proposal, please submit it by noon tomorrow,” Jin Guangyao replies in a pretend-formal tone, knowing he will say yes no matter what oddball activity Lan Xichen chooses. 

If he is to be honest with himself, he’d expected Lan Xichen to choose something sweet, creative, and slow paced. Pottery class would have been his number one guess. 

Instead, he is sweating his balls off on a dance floor, wearing what his husband enthusiastically deemed “compulsory swing dancing attire”. They got rid of the vests about ten minutes in, but the long pants are a little stuffy nonetheless.

They’re not the only gay couple in dance class, but they are probably the only first timers. His husband only smiles brilliantly and recommends he just have fun, but Jin Guangyao has already sized up the athleticism and general coordination of the other guys, and is fairly certain they can show them up from the get go. None of them has ballet training nor Lan Xichen’s preternatural comfort in his body that makes him good at just about any sport. They’ll grind them to dust by the end of the session.

Jin Guangyao is no show-off, but he enjoys being very damn good at things. Visibly, demonstrably good at things. And though he gave up ballet as a teen, years of dutiful yoga stretches were not for nothing. He’d kept up with it for the sex, to be honest, but he suspects that flexibility will be equally convenient when he has to flip a leg over Lan Xichen’s shoulder to fold himself into a scarf. As soon as they’re done with steps and stomps, anyway. 

The teacher lavishes praise on them - “Incredible connection!” - and Jin Guangyao lets himself preen a little. “We’ve been together for a while,” he says, making Lan Xichen flush and glow with pride. “We’re a well oiled machine.” 

The first challenging exercise comes in the form of aerials. They’re not quite ballet lifts, but close enough in his estimation. It’s all about landing right. 

Now, Jin Guangyao has always preferred to have his feet firmly on the ground. He’s not afraid of heights, but he likes to know where he stands at any given time. So when he and Lan Xichen run through basic throws, he is skeptical at first that he will enjoy this - though he is willing, because Lan Xichen’s absolutely glowing joy whenever he throws him in the air is palpable. 

Obviously, Jin Guangyao watched countless videos of aerials for beginners last night. He did not care for the frog jumps the teacher is intent on making them do, but the idea of wrapping his legs around Lan Xichen’s neck is an appealing one.

Lan Xichen, both sturdy and fluid, his anchor and the rubber band that propels him back and forth, moves with him with ease. It feels good to stick to him. It feels hot. 

While they take their third break of the evening, Jin Guangyao carefully adjusts his yoga pants and chugs water, but the sight of his husband absolutely sweat-sodden and positively flooded with endorphins does not help in dousing his flames. 

“Gege,” Jin Guangyao says, crooking his finger to pull Lan Xichen aside while some couples return to the dance floor, and others amble towards the exit. “I think we can call ourselves satisfied for today, don’t you?”

Lan Xichen, damn his stamina, has the gall to look surprised and a little put out, lips pursing in a conflicted manner. “Of course, A-Yao. We have been practicing for a while. Were you not enjoying yourself?” 

“That’s not it,” Jin Guangyao assures him, draping his towel around Lan Xichen’s neck to pull him down and encase him in a warm, private dark space where their noses touch. “My knees do need a bit of a breather, but I think we can continue practicing our connection at home.” Horizontally, ideally.

Lan Xichen’s eyes widen in rapturous enthusiasm and he nods, leading him to the changing rooms with a gentlemanly hand on the small of his back. Jin Guangyao makes sure to say goodbye to the teacher while he exits with maximum dignity. They’ll be back to effortlessly upstage those uncoordinated newbies next week.

(The Scarf is the first move in this video - probably not a first day kind of exercise, but they’ll get there in no time.)

[lianawrites350]

Into the Shadows: An Analysis of BTS’s “Black Swan” Music Video

Read the full essay here or on The Medium! https://medium.com/@bethalal5813/into-the-shadows-an-analysis-of-btss-black-swan-music-video-c71c5008bbbe

What if I no longer love my art? Every artist has, at some point, asked themselves this question. It’s a question fraught with fear, shame, pressure and doubt, asked in the deepest, darkest moments where no one else can see. South Korean boy band BTS, and one of the biggest musical acts in the world, also asks this question except they confess this fear to their global audience. In their 2020 single “Black Swan” from their album Map of the Soul: 7, RM, Jin, Suga, J-Hope, Jimin, V, and Jungkook examine their relationship with music and the fear of losing their passion for it. As American dancer Martha Graham said “a dancer dies twice — once when they stop dancing, and this first death is the more painful.” This struggle with their fears is like death to them, tearing at their certainty of who they are, and they must find a way to overcome their fears or risk losing themselves entirely.

“Black Swan” is a raw, vulnerable insight into the insecurities and pressures BTS face as musicians and artists. Whereas their previous track, “Dionysus” is a delirious high, showing an artist’s intoxicating passion for their art, “Black Swan” and its corresponding music video is the bleak hangover. This R&B trap ballad admits the pressure and fears they face and how that interferes with their love for music. The title’s allusion to both Tchaikovsky’s evil character in the Swan Lake ballet and the 2010 thriller Black Swan hints at this duality of passion and fear, perfection and insecurity. The title could also reference the term “black swan”, an event, in this instance falling out of love with music, that happens unexpectedly, has extreme impact, and is of human nature. The music video, shot at the Los Angeles Theatre and released on March 4, 2020, captures these dualities by incorporating motifs of shadow and light, on-stage and off-stage, and black and white to explore the lyrics’s themes of fear and overcoming fear.

“Do your thang with me now. What’s my thang? Tell me now” This intro directs BTS to keep doing their passion, except they’re struggling to remember what their passion is. This struggle is at the core of the first verse, which introduces the shadows that haunt them. Suga raps “The heart no longer races when hearing the music play”. As a rapper, idol, musician, and producer, music is deeply intertwined in Suga’s life. His love for it is detailed in his 2016 song “First Love” which described the piano as the first love in his life, there for him throughout his life whenever he needed it. In this verse, however, he fears losing this passion for music one day, confessing it would feel like death. RM raps similar sentiments, admitting a deep fear that what if this first death is happening right now.

The music video articulates shadows through its lighting. Reflecting his opening lyrics, Suga crouches by himself on an elegant, empty stage that is half-submerged in shadows. In the music video, the stage is a metaphor for their relationship with music, and currently Suga’s love for music is submerged in darkness. The camera is pulled back in a long-distance cut, making him appear even smaller on the stage. Projected onto the background behind him, a huge shadow awakens and flexes like a bird stretching its wings. The shadows are awakening and actively overtaking him. The next scene is RM standing alone in a hallway of the theater, staring at the camera. The hallway is more clearly lit than the stage, but a daunting shadow is projected on the ceiling, looming over him. This shows that they are still being followed by their fears even when they leave the actual stage. As he raps about his “first death”, he momentarily turns his back from the viewer, hesitates, before looking into the camera directly, rubbing his throat.

This gesture of suffocation and death and the fear being realized in the present is reflected in the music video’s costuming and choreography. For most of the music video, the members are in fully black outfits, signifying their descent into the shadows. Black-and-white costuming is featured, however, in the choreography scenes that are intercut throughout. These scenes take place on a blacked-out stage with a single spotlight, symbolizing the shadows they are facing. Two dances take place here: the group’s official choreographed dance and Jimin’s solo dance. The costumes are designed to look mid-transformation from white swans to black swans. Jin and RM are in white suits but have black undershirts and black jacket linings. Further along the transformation, Jungkook has black trailing up his coat sleeves while Suga and J-Hope have black color on their tailcoats. V wears a black undershirt with actual feathers on his collar, and Jimin, the primary character in this music video, has black feathers running down his white jacket. The black represents the shadows, and the gradual overtaking of black, particularly around the neck, suggests the shadows suffocating them. In the group choreography, as Suga raps, Jungkook dances around him as a representation of Suga’s struggle against the shadows before offering his hand which Suga accepts. In RM’s verse, Jimin and V mimic RM’s moves behind him, amplifying his fears. In his solo scenes, Jimin performs a modern dance with the shadows nearly completely obscuring him. A clear shot of his face is not seen until nearly the start of the chorus, suggesting intense private turmoil.

The chorus section drags them deeper into the fear itself. The pre-chorus lyrics describe a muffled silence, impenetrable by songs or their cries for help. The silence is filled with only their heartbeat. This cavernous emptiness represents their fears of falling out of love with music, most likely brought on by the intense pressure, expectations, and scrutiny they face as global superstars as well as possibly anxiety and burnout from constant musical output. In the music video, V looks down at the camera, like a human to an insect, as it circles around him. This reflects the lyrics of trying to escape from the maw, evoking the voraciousness of this fear and the danger of being eaten alive by it. In the pre-chorus line “Do you hear me”, Jimin is alone amongst the audience seats, the room completely dark except for a large spotlight on him. The camera is held at a long-distance and Jimin is crouched away from the camera, reinforcing the isolation and the disconnect BTS feels. Jimin slowly rises but never looks at the camera.

To understand the main chorus, we need the context of BTS’s discography. In 2017, BTS released a hidden track called “Sea” where they described their journey as a group like walking through a desert, which represented their struggles and failures, as they tried to reach the sea, which represented success. The same metaphor is used in “Black Swan” except now they have reached the sea, or the ocean in this case, but find themselves at the bottom of the ocean with no light or sound. The success they have achieved through their struggles has come now with new fears. Rather than swimming in the ocean of success they are drowning in its depths. Further, on the same album as “Black Swan” is “Interlude: Shadow” in which Suga discusses the pressures he feels from his immense success by using the metaphor of shadows to describe his fears of failure, self-doubt, anxiety, and loss of control. Though “Black Swan’’ focuses specifically on the fear of losing their love for music, all these fears and pressures and doubts manifest themselves in the shadows heard and seen in “Black Swan”. In the music video, Jimin dances solo, succumbing to the shadows. As he sings that he is crying out silently, he drops out of the frame, and the scene cuts to the group dance.

During the chorus, the music video contrasts the darkened stage and a brightly-lit lobby, signifying the song’s focus on the group’s internal struggle behind the scenes. In the lobby, Jimin slides across the floor while the others prostrate themselves, reaching out for help. The movements are large and expressive, showing how they are trying to escape and failing. They struggle to rise but their feet are held in a rut on the ocean floor, and it is “killin’ me now, killin me now.” At this line, the scene switches to the stage where the members wear their white-and-black outfits; they are trying to perform, but the shadows are overtaking them. The camera is at a long-distance, disassociating them from the stage. When V sings “Struggle but it’s all ocean floor” the scene returns to the lobby, their metaphorical ocean. It feels like eternity being trapped at the bottom of the ocean, and they direct the listener to “Film it now, film it now”. The scene cuts back to them on the stage to be filmed for the world as Jin drops his arm from head to belt like taking a snapshot. As global superstars, BTS have every move, word, and decision scrutinized by millions across the world. Through this song, they surrender even their darkest moment to these millions of eyes, knowing there is no escape from the pressures and fears. The irony of their journey they discover is that at the bottom of the ocean is more sand: they never escaped the desert.

To be free, BTS has to confront their shadows and, somehow, overcome them. The ending of the chorus shows close-up shots of the members on the stairs. Jimin stands slightly away from the others, and instead of a close-up shot for him, it cuts to him on the stage. The camera curls around him as black wings burst forth from his back, signifying him turning into the black swan but also alluding to a hidden meaning. BTS’s 2016 album Wings, explored the growth and struggles of the group as they became adults. Their song “Outro: Wings” spoke about how BTS’s fandom ARMY are the wings to BTS that enable them to have freedom and success. The motif of wings returning here foreshadows how grappling with this fear will allow them new freedom and new heights.

After Jimin’s wings spread, the music video cuts to J-Hope, wearing all-black, in a new foyer. The light in the room is almost completely extinguished except for a floodlight-like light on him, as if he is in the ‘belly of the whale’. J-Hope raps about sinking deeper into the shadows. This time, however, instead of being pushed there, he tells the darkness to let go and walks himself into the deepest depths to face his own shadows. Throughout their discography, BTS have emphasized the importance of facing your fears. To them, fears are not a weakness to hide or something to run from but an essential part of growth. Fears can be overcome if only we’re willing to acknowledge them and push through them. This fear of their music and passion may be their deepest, darkest moment. Nonetheless they face it head-on. J-Hope dances near a fountain, symbolizing the ocean he is trapped in, and the camera begins to move closer to him, closing the previous emotional distance.

The reward of confronting his fears is seen in J-Hope’s final words of his verse: “I saw myself”. Struggling past the insecurities, pressure, and doubt, BTS have remembered the true reasons why they love music. They don’t specify these reasons because it is private to them, but by remembering why they do this, they realize that music is an essential part of who they are. Their fears were not a negative thing trying to destroy them, but an opportunity to grow deeper into themselves. As J-Hope raps, the scene cuts to a large, window-lit practice room. This time, the behind the scenes don’t suggest inner turmoil but inner peace and familiarity, a place they use to prepare to go back on stage. We now get a close-up of J-Hope’s face, cutting out any emotional distance, as he grabs and faces Suga.

Suga’s verse signals the return journey from the ‘belly of the whale’. J-Hope mirrors Suga’s movements like a shadow as they circle around each other. When Suga raps that he’s found himself, J-Hope leaves, alluding to Suga finally escaping the darkness. As if from a dream, Suga says, he wakes up in his studio, and realizes that no matter how violently the waves throw him, he won’t get dragged away because his love of music is in himself. Similar to the stage, the studio has at times been a burden to them, as seen in their 2015 song ‘Dope’, where the studio is the place where their youth rots away while they work; here, however, it goes from being a place of work to a place of love. The music video returns Suga to the stage where he first started the song. The camera now closely circles around him as opposed to the long shots in the first verse, and the shadow projected behind him is much smaller than it was in the first verse. Their fears held them down on the ocean floor, but openly acknowledging these fears and finding the reasons they truly love music means that they could never lose their passion again. He reaches out to his shadow like a friend.

The second chorus section references their 2018 song “Fake Love”, which features musical motifs repeated in “Black Swan”. “Fake Love” describes a bad relationship where they are masking their true selves. The lyrics “a forest of just us…I forgot the route that I came along”, shows how they have lost themselves in an effort to save the relationship. “Black Swan” continues the themes by describing them being in a bad relationship with music where masking their insecurities causes the death of their passion. The second pre-chorus section finds them waking up from their ocean nightmare in a forest. In the music video, Jin is in a dressing room, perhaps the most well-lit set of the video, surrounded by mirrors. In a different scene, Jungkook stands in the balcony section, where the whole theater is in darkness except the stage. Doolsetbangtan.wordpress.com notes that in Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami the forest is a kind of labyrinth that represents “the understanding of the self”. RM is a known fan of Haruki Murakami and is a main songwriter on both songs, so this is likely the forest he is referring to. In “Fake Love” they’ve lost themselves in the forest, but in “Black Swan” they’ve woken up in the forest, knowing once again who they are. Jin chooses to look himself in the mirror, and thus his shadows, as the lyrics contrast being swallowed by the jaws of fear with “nothing can devour me”. Overcoming the silence around them, they “shout with ferocity”, and Jin turns to stare into the camera. Though millions of eyes are on him, he is just as free to stare back at them. The mirror images don’t move with him, a homage to the film Black Swan, but also symbolizing that by looking into his shadows, he is no longer controlled by them. From the balcony, Jungkook has metaphorically risen above the fears of the stage. BTS know who they are and thus know the route through the forest. Jungkook leans back far over the balcony. Arms spread wide, he has found his wings and is not afraid to fall.

The final group dance takes place on the stage; however, unlike earlier, the camera moves from the audience’s perspective to BTS’s perspective. BTS are silhouetted against the spotlight, and their backs are to the audience, removing the control that the world has on them. They dance and sing for the love of it alone, and here, wearing all black, we see the transformation of the black swan completed. The black swan side of themselves at first appeared dangerous; like in Tchaikovsky’s ballet, it seemed evil, seductive, deceptive, as opposed to the white swans in them who were good, pure, but vulnerable. In truth, though, the appearance of the black swan as the sudden appearance of fear, is a good thing. Like in the 2010 film, the black swan side of themselves is raw, emotional, and in touch with the art, as opposed to the white swan character who is obsessed with perfection, technicality, and therefore afraid. The black swan is good because it is in touch with the deepest part of their souls and who they are as people and artists. Jimin’s solo, from the same stage and perspective, is a silhouette against the bright spotlight. He dances freely, expressing being broken by the pressure and rising once more again with faith in himself.

The difficulty of creating art, however, is that the insecurities, doubts, and pressures never quite fully leave. The outro of “Black Swan” shows the cyclical nature of these fears in BTS’s lives. BTS’s songs are typically structured as 3-verse, 3-chorus with a thesis-antithesis-synthesis approach showing their problem, revelation and growth through the progression of the song. “Black Swan”, however, is condensed into a 2-verse, 2-chorus structure, and the lyrics repeat for the second chorus and the outro. This repetition and break from their three-part structure indicates that their fears are not entirely gone. Producer and Youtuber Joey Nato noted that the synth of the outro sound follows the “What’s my thang” melody of the intro, and the music sounds submerged as if underwater. This suggests the ever-presence of their fears lurking at the edge. On the stage, they dance in a line behind Jimin, who reaches out for help and drags his feet across the floor as they sing about the sound being shut off and their feet held in a rut. Joey Nato points out, though, the “Do you hear me” is more aggressive in the outro. They have gained the ability to confront these fears.

In a solo shot, J-Hope is again surrounded by shadows. He stares into the camera before descending into the darkness. As he does so, Jimin, in his solo dance, collapses, and the camera pulls away, leaving him to the darkness. Though we don’t see the conclusion, we see a post scene of Jungkook in the balcony section. A large shadow has overtaken the stage. As he watches, the shadow shrinks and disappears. Satisfied, he walks off. It’s interesting to note here that a behind the scenes clip revealed that the looming shadows were performed by Jimin and J-Hope, adding a deeper layer of intimacy and familiarity to the shadows plaguing them. In the group dance on the stage, as they block the light, their shadows loom large in front of them. In the final formation, however, their silhouettes become interlaced with their shadows. They have confronted and overcome their fears and recognized that these fears are a natural, ever-present, and vital part of who they are as humans and artists.

BTS’s discography openly talks about their personal challenges, including growing up, mental health, and contending with injustices in society. Throughout these struggles, music remains a vital source of strength carrying them through it. “Black Swan”, however, rocks this security as they question their love for music. The song is spectacularly raw and its intense vulnerability makes it a definitive entry to BTS’s discography and the music industry as whole. But this struggle is not theirs alone. “Black Swan’s” various performance concepts reimagine the song in different contexts of art and shadows. In the premiere performance on The Late Late Show with James Corden, BTS danced barefoot and dressed in black on a stage designed like a fairytale forest at night. This performance paid homage to Tchaikovsky’s Black Swan and the ballet’s theme of good vs. evil. The Korean music show performances had them dancing in both black and white costumes amongst ruined classical architecture. These performances evoked imagery of grandeur decaying, of the art itself being broken because of their shadows. On The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon’s “BTS Week”, they introduced a new spin on this struggle and performed on a stage designed like an abandoned church, alluding to the disillusionment of belief, in institutions but also in themselves, as their core identity is being called into question. Their Japanese promotions on NHK Songs modernized the theme. BTS performed in flowy, loose modern clothes on a simple stage, evoking an image of a performance student dancing alone in an abandoned auditorium as they struggle with their inner demons. No matter the interpretation, these performances and the song itself speak to the struggle of the soul decaying under pressure, shadows overcoming the light, and an artist fighting against all odds to keep the love of their art alive.

[knightsofsliverandgoldstory]

Marc-André Fleury/ F!OC

Cover by @newlibrary

Summery: A story where a world famous goaltender with a heart and soul of gold becomes a knight in shining silver for a female hockey player in the NHL who is trying to balance being a single mother and athlete after just being traded to the Vegas Golden Knights. Can Marc-André Fleury show Barlow Kane he can be the father her daughter never had, help her make a home and a life in Nevada and be the love of her life she never thought she would find?

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 2,949

As always follow my main account @callsign-denmark or main masterlist and my A03

Barlow walked into the locker room the next morning ready to start on her workout. She popped open her cubby and throw her bag inside before pulling off her shirt, going down to her sports bra. She had on high waisted leggings and runners, her hair up in a messy bun. She shut the lid of her cubby and walked towards the training room. She popped in her earbuds and started up her music before going into some warmup stretches.

Marc-André got to the gym a few minutes later then normal. He quickly out his stuff away in the locker room before heading to the training area. He was looking down at his phone when he walked into the room. When he looked up he saw Barlow doing some lunges. He watched how he body moved, how her muscles rippled under her skin as she jumped into the next lunge, her balance never wavering. He felt a small smile creep onto his lips before ducking his head and walking over towards her. He sat down his water bottle and begin to do the splits near her.

Barlow saw Flower walk up out of the corner of her eye. She kept her balance steady as she held the lunge she had just did. The muscles in her legs stretched as she bent into it. She was more flexible then most hockey players, but she had taken ballet classes on top of hockey when she was younger to help give her an edge. She then sat with her legs straight out in front of her and bent forward, bending her body over top of her legs, her hands around her feet. She felt eyes burning into her skin, knowing full well that Marc-André was watching her like a hawk. She bent herself back up into a sitting position and smiled at him.

"You know it's rude to stare." She teased as she winked at the goalie. She watched as a small blush creeped over his face as he ducked his head. He bent to the right, over his leg stretching his back and core.

"Well forgive me for admiring how flexible you are. I've only really seen goalies move like that." He smiled cheekily at her. Barlow laughed and got up going to the treadmill. She stepped on before starting at a slow jog and working herself up to a brisk pace. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Marc-André grab a turtle shaped balancing disk and got on it. The top part was smooth but the bottom part was on a half ball, making it hard to balance if you were not fully stable. He stared to do squats on the disk, keeping his balance steady as he watched himself in the floor to ceiling mirror.

Barlow was impressed with how balanced and confident he looked, his body not wavering as he kept going. The muscles in his legs and core flexing with each squat, and Barlow couldn't help but admire them. She saw him catching her watching him from the mirror and she quickly turned her head away, focusing once again on her run. She felt her face heat up, but not from the workout. She was thankful when the gym started to fill up with more players, helping block out the destructions around her. She soon got off the treadmill after doing a 15 minute run and went to the floor ladder to do foot work maneuvers. She started doing fast pace footwork over the rope ladder that was spread out on the floor, moving her feet fast and swiftly to keep from tripping as she went from one square to another in the ladder. Her movements seemed effortless as she did the drill.

And it wasn't going unnoticed. Mark Stone was doing a rubber band arm pull exercise and Flower was standing by spotting him. Both men saw her moving swiftly across the floor, her steps never wavering, her pace fast and strong. She glided across the floor.

"Kane is something else that's for sure." Mark said as he pulled on the band. Flower nodded his head and watched the blonde. Mark looked at Marc-André and saw how his eyes never left her, how he seemed to be totally focused on the girl. "Oh you got it bad Flower." He laughed as he switched arms. Flower looked at Mark and felt his face heat up even tho he shook his head and tried to deny it.

"I have no idea what you are talking back Stone. And we really can't call her Kane now can we? She has her brother in the NHL. It could get confusing on who we are talking about to people if we reference to her as Kane." He glanced up and looked at her again from across the room. "Besides.... she has a pretty name." He said softer as he watched her. Her eyes met his and he felt a small smile spread across his lips as she smiled at him before going back to her drill. Marc-André felt Mark slap his arm and he glared at the Captain.

"You like her. I can see it on your face. The way you smile. So why not do something about it?" The Captain asked the goalie. Flower looked back up at Barlow and sighed.

"I think she has been hurt Mark. Just jumping at her, after she just moved, throwing something else at her is not the right move. For now I'm just gonna give her time." He pulsed for a moment before adding "Besides she has a daughter. She might now be looking for a relationship anymore." Saying the words out loud broke his own heart, but he had no idea how wrong he was.

The team worked out for another hour or so before calling it quites for lunch. Barlow wipped her face off with a towel and slowly walked to the showers. She stepped under the warm water and let it run down her shoulders and back, soothing her sore muscles. She sighed as she washed her hair and let the water run over her face for a moment before turning off the water. She dried off and pulled on a pair of sport shorts and a lose tshirt, letting her hair fall down in damp blonde waves. She stared to do a light makeup in the mirror, before starting to combing her hair

Marc-André was sitting on his bench, after just coming out of the shower and he only had on a pair of basketball shorts. He ran a hand through his dark hair that was still damp from his shower. He was looking at his phone when he heard a small squeal from the other side of the room. He looked up to see Harper running his way.

"Oh bonjour ma jolie petite!" He smiled as he picked up the toddler, pulling her to his lap. She smiled at him, her bright eyes shining. He kissed her soft strawberry blonde hair and hugged her close. "Comment vas-tu ma douce petite fille?" He said in French, not knowing if she would understand him. He say Haper think for a moment before replying.

"Je vais bien aujourd'hui!" She answered him in French. Flower laughed and tickled her side.

"So he speak French as well?! How wonderful Little One!" He beamed at the Toddler. He didnt hear Barlow walking up from the side.

"Her father spoke French as his first language. So I taught her." Her voice spoke in a soft tone as she approached the pair.

"Mama!" Harper squealed as she leaned against Marc-André. She smiled and made grabby hands at her mother, showing she wanted picked up. Barlow smiled and picked up her daughter, kissing her freckled nose. "I see you found your friend." Barlow nodded down at Flower. Harper smiled and nodded her head.

"Yes Mommy. I like Flower." She giggled as she turned to look at the man. She smiled and then pointed back at him. "I wanna sit with him!" She stated as she leaned in her mother's arms towards Marc-André. Barlow was still surprised at how fast Harper took to Marc-André, and how quickly she trusted him when she was so shy of men. She handed her child to the older man and smiled as the little girl wrapped her arms around his neck. Flower kissed her cheek and started to speak sweet nothing in French to her, making the Toddler coo in happiness.

Barlow heard her phone ding and she looked down to see a text from her nanny, Katie. She had to take her car to the shop to get a tire fixed so she let once she dropped Harper off with Marc-André.

"Barlow! Coach wants you in his office!" Mark called to her making her look up from her text. She glanced down at Harper in Flower's lap and groaned.

"Shit... her nanny had to take her car to the repair shop. She just left. She can't watch her for me now." She sighed. She went to grab Harper's bookbag on the foor by her cubby when Flower spoke up.

"I'll watch her for you."

Barlow turned around and raised an eyebrow at the goalie. "You want to watch Harper? For real?" She questioned as she placed her hand on her hip and cocked her head to the side.

"Don't look so surprised." He laughed out, his laughter like soft music. "I actually really like kids. I'd love to watch her for a bit for you. I dont have any plans once I leave here. I'll take her down to the food court and get her something to eat." He continued as he stood up, the toddler on his hip as she played with his soft dark hair. Barlow looked at the pair before stepping closer. Marc-André felt his heart flutter as her arm brushed his bar chest as she reached up to push back some of her daughter wild hair.

"You be good for Marc-André, okay? I'll be back soon." She told her child. Harper leaned her head against Flower's shoulder and nodded her head.

"Yes Mommy. Love you." She whispered as she smiled shyly.

Barlow smiled and kissed her nose before replying "Je t'aime aussi." She then smiled up at Marc-André and blushed lightly. "Thank you Marc-André." She said softly before looking down, realizing her hand was on his arm. She blushed hard and stepped back, handing the small backpack to Flower.

"Mommy will be back soon Little Bird. Behave now." She said before walking off to go upstairs to the coach's office.

Marc-André looked down at the Toddler on his hip and smiled. "Let's go get you some food Little Flower. I think there is a chocolate chip muffin in the lounge with our name on it." He told the child as he started to walk out of the locker room and down to the hangout spot for the team. He had throw on a tight black tshirt before they left the locker room and grabbed his hat as well, but Harper was currently wearing his hat, that was far to big for her head but she was happy none the less. He walked into the large room where TVs, sofas, chairs and bar and food buffet was laid out for the players to chill and the WIGs now and again for special occasions. He saw Mark, Shea and Zach sitting playing some video games and he waved at them.

"Look who I brought to hang out a bit!" He called out. He felt Harper nuzzle into his chest a bit tighter and pull his hat down over her face. "Oh it's okay Little One. I know you are shy but its safe. I promise you." He cooed to the 3 year old softly. He hugged her tight and walked to where the food was laid out for the team. "Here why dont you pick out a muffin?" He said bending down a bit so she could see the food. He smiled as she pushed the hat up her face a bit and then pointed to a large chocolate chip muffin on a plate. He chuckled and picked it up, placing it on a plate and then walked her to a sofa. He sat down and sat her on his lap, holding onto the plate. She leaned against his chest and took a small piece of muffin, eating it happily. He loved how comfortable the child was with him, how quickly she trusted him. He took a piece of muffin and popped it into his mouth as she took another small chunk. He looked down at her to find her already looking up at him, a smile on her lips as she ate.

"You're adorable Little One." Marc-André cooed as he nuzzled his nose into her soft curls. Harper giggled and leaned her head against his chest, resting her head under his chin. He sat the muffin down on the table beside the sofa and pulled her closer, feeling her breathing slowly grow calmer and soon she was asleep in his arms. Marc-André smiled down at her and laid his head on top of hers, breathing in her soft, sweet smelling hair. How he wished he had a daughter like this of his own. Someone to come home to, hold as she fell asleep each night after they ate. To wake up to a bright happy toddler face each morning as his lover laid beside him. He wanted a family of his own. He wrapped his arms around her tighter and closed his eyes, picturing a family in his mind. Two or three sweet little babies running around. A wife and a big house filled with love, a dog or two running around the yard. He could picture a life outside of hockey, with a family that would always support him.

"Well isn't this just a picture?" A soft sweet voice broke him from his daydream.

He opened his eyes to see Barlow smiling down at him and Harper on the sofa. He smiled up at her and hugged the little girl close. "She ate a bit and then passed right out." He informed her as he looked down at the sweet child tucked into his side and chest. "How did your meeting go?" Flower asked softly.

"It went will. Just some paperwork and stuff that needed filled and stuff. Nothing serious." Barlow looked down at her sleeping daughter and smiled. "Thanks for watching her. She really has grow to like you in such a short time. I got a picture of you two sleeping before I woke you up." She told him pulling up her phone to show him the picture of them cuddling together on the sofa, fast asleep. Flower smiled at the picture and then down at the child still in his arms.

"Can you send me that? I love it." Asked Marc-André softly. He stood up slowly and grabbed the bookbag on the floor. "I'll walk you guys to your car." He said.

Barlow was surprised at how gentle and kind this man was with her and her daughter. It made her miss being with someone. Miss having someone care for her and worry over her and want her to be at her best. She shook her head to clear her mind and smiled up at the tall goalie. "Thank you. That would be great." She said taking the backpack and picking up her own bag. She walked beside Marc-André as he carried Harper through the arena out to the parking lot. Barlow opened the car door and watched as Flower slowly sat Harper into her carseat and buckled her up before placing a soft kiss to her hair. He stood up and she closed the door softly.

"Thank you. For watching her for me." She said softly brushing some of her blonde hair off her face. She leaned against the car and felt her face heat up a bit realizing how close they were.

"Anytime Barlow. She is a sweet Angel and I love spending time with her."

Barlow felt her heart flutter for a moment. She hadn't felt this way in a long while. She started into his brown eyes and she felt her heart race.

"I'll see you tomorrow Barlow." He said in a deep, thick accent before pushing off the car and walking towards the Arena. He had wanted to kiss her right then and there. But he knew he had to take his time, and slowly get both girls to trust him before he made any moves. And going slow and study was something Flower could do. He opened his phone and looked down at the picture of him and sleeping Harper and smiled softly to himself. The way she curled into his chest, her little hands fisting his shirt, his chin in her soft ginger curls made his heart stop. She was as beautiful as her mother. How he wished they had an easier life, that this sweet child had a father. But then Barlow and Harper wouldn't have been in his life the way they were not. Hitting the small dots at the top of the picture, he set it as his home screen on his phone. Smiling one more time at the picture he clicked his phone back off and started walking back inside to grab his things before heading home. Someone he just knew, one day that picture would become an everyday reality.

[stalkermom3-blog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Dance Costume Plum Berry Lace Crop Top Handkerchief Skirt Flowy Adult Small.