purity

𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓫𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓼, 𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼.✍🏿

[purityinsilence]

Purity's Introduction..

yankees/mlb fan

writes about her manifeststions (which is in the form of fanfics!)

soulaan girl blog but everyone's welcome

black girl targeted!

sad girl central

southern belle coded!

22 y/o, from good ol' sc!

that's all, mwah! 💋

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[purityinsilence]

happy juneteenth to all my fellow black americans, especially the black american writers, baseball fans, and black americans from all over the usa. the ones who don't feel seen in their fandoms, the ones who make space in their fandoms and the ones who created the spaces for us!

celebrate black literature, support black creators and support black artists!

❤️💛💚🖤❤️💛💚🖤❤️💛💚🖤❤️💛💚🖤❤️

[purityinsilence]

𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘧! 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴!

cw: angst if you shoot your device into space and look at it from a telescope. black!reader but really anyone can read idm!! and rpf!!

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-𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘧! 𝘸𝘩𝘰.. • smells like shea butter, faint fabric softener, peach cobbler and cake frosting

-𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘧! 𝘸𝘩𝘰.. • dances infront of the mirror in her room, sweeping across the soft carpet on relève, doing small leaps, wobbly turns and turning up the classical music on her vibraphone.

-𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘧! 𝘸𝘩𝘰.. • bakes cookies, cupcakes, or brings leftover goods to her boyfriends practice, no teammate left hungry. she wraps the boxes in pink ribbons, puts her shops logo sticker at the end of the box, and arrives to the stadium with the biggest smile, greeting security with offerings of sweets and pastries galore.

-𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘧! 𝘸𝘩𝘰.. • facetimes her boyfriend while he’s on the road, wearing her silk night gown that reaches her knees, kicking her frilly socked feet, and giggling at his over exaggerated complaints of how that nights game went.

-𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘧! 𝘸𝘩𝘰.. • travels to way too many shops looking for the right pointe shoe before her next performance, toting her man with her for emotional support while she browses over the expansion of pointe shoes. her boyfriend tries to get her to order them online but she insists it’s better to buy in person.

-𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘧! 𝘸𝘩𝘰.. • survives off of iced coffee, his voice notes, and music.

-𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘧! 𝘸𝘩𝘰.. • dances so much her legs give out, her body shudders, her knees buckle, and her port de bras turn stiff from the soreness and pain. her boyfriend begs her to rest but she’s too stubborn to listen.

-𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘧! 𝘸𝘩𝘰.. • loves to take baths, especially since she can see a nice view of the city from her bathroom. she’ll run the water blanching hot, light some vanilla or seasonal candles and soak in the bubbly tub while reading some of her favorite literature. some days she invites her boyfriend for a “spa day” which really only consists of him burning in the tub, being forced to apply face masks, and listen to soft jazz while she reads a book to him out loud…he loves it.

-𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘧! 𝘸𝘩𝘰.. • has a old music box from when she was a little tot, it holds a twirling ballerina that plays a soft lullaby with every turn. she puts her pearls and jewelry in the box, and keeps it close to heart for it’s the one of the few things she took with her to New York after leaving home.

that’s it folks! I enjoyed writing this a whole lot, I may put something out for Juneteenth…which is tomorrow..I have a few ideas in mind that I think the people will like! I have a question for yall though, would you like to see dainty gfs backstory, or a player hc? I take just about any baseball players but I prefer the yanks! lmk, see you all later!

[purityinsilence]

you're beautiful.

chapter 1 • the meeting.

giancarlo stanton x black!reader

word count: 1.3k words!

juggling life between ballet, owning the shop and paying your rent in the state of new york is a constant battle and doing it alone is the big blow that knocks you down constantly. but things change, just as it did on a regular tuesday morning at the shop.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

4:00 AM

the alarm that goes off every morning at four on the dot is a soft jingle, loud enough to wake you but soft enough to not startle you. The soft rustle of your cotton sheets, swish of your embroidered bed spread and persistent tapping of your phone screen to stop the alarm fills the room. This is nothing new to your well trained body. It's like clockwork, every morning, every day, every year since you moved to New York. The same patterns that you expect to never change for the next couple of years.

You slide your legs off of your bed, feet touching the soft rug you pull your weight up to stand. Your body aches from the hard training you did yesterday in preparation for The Nutcracker, you've landed the role you've been wanting since you were a young girl, the sugar plum fairy, it didn't come easy, but you made it, and that's one thing that keeps you pushing everyday.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

5:30 AM

you've showered, brushed your teeth, oiled your body to prevent dryness, put on your day to day outfit, cozy enough for the winter chill but cute enough to look like you tried today, and made your way to the living room rubbing your tabby to his wake, putting food and water in his bowl. You check your phone, acknowledging that you only have so much time to spend before you have to get to work. You throw on your shoes, grab your purse and keys, all while making your way towards the door.

The shop is in the perfect spot. Not too far away from home and in a decent enough area. To you it was a total jackpot. The walk is colder than usual, the regret creeping up your neck forming goose bumps on your arms, you swear you can feel the ice starting to form on the coils you have on your head, but you keep it pushing.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

6:05 AM

you made it just in time to set up and open before your usuals start flooding in, you grab your apron, check on your orders that are waiting to be sent off, greet your helper Maci who usually preps the orders before it's time to start letting customers in, play the christmas music that makes your soul feel joyous, and pep talk yourself as usual.

you start piping the last two cupcakes that have the cute edible Santa hats on them, checking the gingerbread man cookies making sure they are perfect for the customers, and laughing with Maci before she leaves. Little moments like this make your heart feel a little bit more whole.

Maci ventures to the front door, turning her head to speak "You're doing great -, see you tomorrow!"

you smile softly, hands under the warm running water that feels unbelievably hot due to your fingers being frozen to the bone. "See you tomorrow Maci, thanks for all you do!"

you're happy that someone acknowledges your hard work, especially when you can't acknowledge yourself.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

6:30 AM

you've unlocked the doors, flipped the decorated "open" sign, and examined the pastries in the display case. Now it's time for the waiting game, you zone out, softly humming to whatever christmas jingle is playing now.

you hear the ding of the doorbell followed along with soft foot steps that shake you from your day dreaming. You look up to see a new face, a familiar but new face.

"Good morning, what can I do for you today?" you say with the ecstatic but professional voice, the one you spent time working on, the one that has the southern hospitality twinge, but bubbly personality underneath.

The customer is tall, very tall, wearing a plain sweater, Yankees hat, and a calm smile. He looks up at the menu, back at you, and then at the display case.

"would you like a recommendation?" you say softly, hoping that'll break his silence. In the back of your mind, you are still trying to pinpoint where have you seen him?

he looks at you, then smiles flashing his teeth slightly "I would like that, it looks like you put hard work into your pastries." he says while moving to stand directly in front of the display case, squinting and examining all of the options.

you nod, "yeah it's just me and my coworker Maci, we put in the time and take turns with the nightshifts." you sigh gently before staring back up, "I recommend the macarons, the strawberry ones are my favorite," you point at them in the box, "and the ginger bread cookies are the best, it's my mom's recipe I took with me, they are probably the best holiday snack in my opinion!"

he looks at you with an "oh really?" grin, "if you say they're the best I'll take your word for it, I'll do the macarons, two gingerbreads and an espresso." taking out his wallet, then his card, and pays.

The emptiness of the bakery is calming, quiet, the bakery has always been a little less busy on Tuesday mornings, though there's never an explanation for it.

After making the espresso, boxing the macarons alongside the cookies, you place the box on the counter and slide it towards him. He reached for the box, fingers grazing softly at yours. It feels accidental, to you it's accidental, to him it's not.

You slide your hands away, looking up at him, doe eyes and slightly surprised by the contact.

"sorry about that" he says grinning, a mischievous undertone peaking behind it.

"it's okay," you say, but a question, the question cuts you off. who is he, why does he seem so familiar, do I know him? "i- err. sorry but, who are you?" words not coming out the way you wanted, you jamble, but he stops you.

a chuckle, almost breathy, is released from his mouth. "don't be sorry, im giancarlo." he says almost reassuringly.

a panic, mixed with surprise fills your nerves, but you catch it before it can show. You open your mouth to speak, but not before being cut off. He takes out a twenty dollar bill, more that what the order was, grabs the sparkly pens you leave in a jar near the register, and scribbles something onto the edge of the bill, sliding it towards you. "here's a tip but it's for you." he says, and turns to leave before you can respond or protest.

he ventures to the front door, opens it, looks back and shows a soft smile "I'll be back for more." he states, then leaves.

you're still in shock, you take a second to take in the fact you just had an encounter with the man you've seen in a magazine and the man who plays for the yankees.

nonetheless the day must go on, customers enter and exit, you package, you pipe cupcakes when it's empty and you wipe off tables after customers leave.

you can wait to get home, you can't wait to see what he wrote, but right now you need minimal distractions.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

9:00 PM

you've had a long shift, all you want to do is go home, greet your cat, eat something, and crash. You hang up your apron, greet Maci who is on her way in for the nightshift, and tell her about the day you've had, making sure to leave out the part where you have an encounter with a professional baseball player.

You leave the shop, and walk the cold, streets, some of the trees are wrapped with lights, there are shops that are closed or are closing, and you try to walk a little faster to get to your apartment, even though the cold is restricting much movement.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

9:35 PM

you've made it home, the warmth of your apartment, the smell of vanilla perfume and the candy cane candle you blew out hours ago hits your nose immediately, your once tense body, letting loose at the comfort of your home.

you sit on your couch, cat scurrying to your side, rubbing and rolling all over you. You make a mental note to refill the feeder, while taking out the twenty, and unfolding it.

at the top it reads, in small rushed letters

"you're beautiful." next to it a long line of numbers.

a phone number.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

thank you for reading! I will be making more this is just chapter one, if you want another player to go with this story just send a request with the players name. I also write for race neutrals! Id also love for you guys to send some asks, and to stay tuned for chapter 2 which will be coming out soon! lastly, giancarlo stays injured like it's insane.

[purityinsilence]

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meet.. the yankees dainty girlfriend!

•-•-•-•-•

- soulaan/black american and/or Afro-Carribean

- in her 20s!

-owns a bakery in the bronx <3

-ballet dancer!

-quite hardheaded..

-born in the south, restarts her life in NYC.

•——•——•——•

“yeah my boyfriends pretty cool, but he’s not as cool as me!”

•——•——•——•

list under construction, but I am taking requests!

headcannons - yankees dainty gf! who..

giancarlo stanton -

chapter 1 - the meeting.

[purityinsilence]

Thinking Of You

a baseball imagine

fav!baseball player x black!reader

the wind presses soft kisses onto your skin, raising goose bumps from your delicate flesh. The stadium is loud and smells of beer, hotdogs and whatever other food item that's being sold at the concession stands.

you wore the goodluck jersey that your husband tells you to wear to his games, his name stitched beautifully into the back, his numbers covering your spine. This is everything you've wanted and more, something you've yearned for since you were young, dreaming of the day you could be the wife of a man who swings bats for thousands of people almost every night.

your eyes scan the field, looking for the one person you've come for. You spot him, sweat clinging to his skin, veins protruding from all of the movement and blow flow he's worked up since the game has started.

you reach for your lanyard that states that you are family to one of the players, mindlessly playing with it not minding the jingle of the metals that attached the two main pieces of the lanyard together.

you can't wait to leave with him, the game is almost over, his team at the winning point, with multiple home runs. you smile to yourself, the stadium lights catching the glimmer of the gloss that you placed on your plump lips repeatedly.

the game is called for an end. you smile, cheer, and represent the man who loves you more than anything, the man that you wouldn't trade for anything else in the world.

you walk with him after he exits his locker room, smelling faintly of sweat, that's mostly over powered by the soap he used to quickly wash with before greeting you again.

he turns his head to look at you "what have you been thinking about this whole time?" he says, reaching for your freshly manicured hand.

you giggle softly, pursing your lips, catching your breath to speak before closing your mouth just to open it back up. "I was thinking of you, and how I have wanted this.. wanted a man like you for so long." you pause, ponder with a slight frown, the kind of frown the average person wouldnt be able to tell, but he could, he always could.

you start back up again, "I thought that I would never be a baseball wife, I'd never wear the family member lanyard, be close with the clubhouse staff, and go to the team dinners." you sigh softly, "I dedicated my life to my craft, and silently hoped a man like you would appear in my life and he did."

your husband, stops in his tracts, halting you with him as he holds you by the waist, looking down at you with the most genuine look of love and adoration. He opens his mouth with the crooked grin he gave you every day you've been with him "I do this not just for me, but for you. I make you proud and that means more to me than the money, the fame, and the constant nights under bright lights playing baseball. Every day, at every moment I think of you, my proud wife that helped me through the sleepless nights and heinous practices. The woman who helped me acknowledge my limits, but also encouraged me to do better."

you smile, the tingle of fluster creeping from your neck to your cheeks, the words coming up your throat jambles and crashes into each other, leaving you unable to form a sentence.

he leans down, slowly and effortlessly to connect his lips to yours, with no care regarding your lip gloss. The feeling is warm, it sends sparks through your nervous system, sending shivers down your spine and unleashes butterflies in your stomach.

he makes eye contact with you, the same kind of eye contact he gave you when he first told you that he loved you.

"you are my heart, my hope and my dedication." he says, hand rubbing your lower back. He takes your hands in his once more to lead you to the car.

the whole ride home his words echoed endlessly in your head until your mind slowly started to drift into slumber.

this imagine can be applied to any of your favorite baseball players, including.. giancarlo stanton, aaron judge, and cody bellinger. feel free to request an imagine for any of your favorite athletes! Until next time <3