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redbelles · 4 years ago

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@anthropologicalhands here you go! thanks for the ask ✨

hilariously, i p. much can’t write unless i have a title in mind? it seems to shape the story as i go, so i typically end up stealing song lyrics as soon as i have an idea, if only to put myself out of my misery. anyway! atla, twd, rdr2, ac: origins, dc, and pitch under the cut!

in our bedroom, after the war

post-series atla zutara au wherein i geek about politics and reconstruction and consequences, and also break zuko into tiny sad pieces before katara gets to smooch him. also there is a dragon.

and wept for break of day

twd au: post-coda, (loosely) inspired by the short story “bullet in the brain”; eventual bethyl

Mass hallucinations, one broadcaster said. String theory. The collective unconscious. Just a whole buncha scared fools, grasping at straws while the world reels, trying to understand something too big and too ugly to ever understand.

She sits there in the dirt, numb and shaking, hands clenched so tight that her nails bite deep into her palms. She presses harder, carving sharp little crescents into skin that’s not nearly as callused as it should be.

The world feels like it’s falling away beneath her, spinning out wildly, carrying her someplace foreign and strange. Her skull throbs and aches. There’s no scar on her wrist. Beneath the dirt, her nails are painted cornflower blue, bright and vivid as a summer sky. The dead don’t walk.

But they did, didn’t they?

I lived it. I remember.

it ain’t no sin

twd au: beth wakes up during her abduction and it gives daryl time to reach the car, and then daryl and beth bang about it

She doesn’t hear the familiar twang of the bow, but when the word chokes off into a gurgle of blood and the graceless thump of a body hitting the ground, she knows.

Daryl comes sprinting out of the darkness, quiet as a hunting cat. The driver’s side door swings open, the cop’s buddy stepping out to try and salvage the situation. Daryl fires, reloads, and fires again, so fast her eyes can’t follow it. She’s so dizzy that it seems like one smooth motion. One breath, just long enough to aim, and then the arrows are gone and Beth and Daryl are alone in the night. The men are dead.

Good, she thinks fiercely, angry and shaken and still unable to stand. Good.

He goes straight to the bodies as she finally hauls herself onto the grass, listening as he yanks the bolts free. Three awful squelches; visceral, obscene. She gags again, and then Daryl is there, dropping to his knees beside her.

“Y’alright?”

late for the sky

rdr2 au: arthur/sadie, set immediately after the massacre at hanging dog ranch

“You didn’t have to stay,” she calls. There’s an ache in her voice he doesn’t know how to parse.

“Sure.” He leaves it at that, no fuss about letting Freyja rest, about needing to catch his breath, though neither would be a lie. There’s no room for chatter; the air between them is full up with grief.

“Sure?”

No meat on that bone, but he can see her chewing it over all the same, worrying at it. Sadie Adler, shaken. If he held a mirror up to her face, he’s half-afraid he’d see fire. Smoke, ash, the orange blaze of a cabin as it burns to cinders.

The memory sends a chill skittering down his spine, a cold knife that lodges somewhere near his heart.

He ain’t the only one held hostage by that particular cruelty. Still knee-deep in the river, Sadie shivers. The water keeps running red around her, blood flaking off her hair and skin, melting into the current, soft as snow.

this loneliness won’t last

rdr2 au: arthur/john/abigail post-game fix it fic

There was heat pouring off John. A droplet of sweat trailing down his cheek. He smelled like salt and sunbaked earth. The thought skimmed through his mind like a water on a pane of glass, crystal clear and out of reach all the same. Then John’s mouth crashed over his, and Arthur had no thought left.

He couldn’t help himself. He bent into John like a windswept tree, looking for shelter. Looking for relief. John pulled him in, held him close, hands fisted in the worn fabric of Arthur’s shirt. Need kindled in his blood, bright and sharp and burning, and he stiffened. Pulled away. John wouldn’t have it. He pulled him back in, nipped at his mouth, trailed fire over his skin, kissed him like Arthur was his to keep.

He wanted to run and hide. He wanted to stay right where he was and live in this moment forever. But then it was over: John stepped away, breathing hard. His fingers were still wound in Arthur’s shirt. He let go like it hurt.

“Don’t leave,” he said, staring at Arthur like he could sear the words into him. Make him stay through force of will alone.

And then he was gone, just like always, just like before.

pieces rendered

ac: origins post-game, post-dlc bayek/aya fix it fic

Amunet, he reminds himself, wincing at the cool bite of aloe against raw skin. It is hard to remember in moments like these, alone in the twilight dimness of the cave mouth, safe from the eyes and ears of those who have only ever known her as a Hidden One.

She is Aya in his thoughts, sometimes, no matter how well he guards his tongue. When the world slips and the ache of all he’s lost will not subside, that is the name that rises in his heart. Wife, lover, friend. Mother of his child, the woman he once thought would walk beside him in this life and the next. Aya.

Amunet is the shadow of a wild wind, always blowing away from him. “North,” she told him once, “to set the sea aflame.”

She did. She does.

Perhaps someday he will come to terms with that.

stolen car

sprawling fic series that explores the batfam universe through the lens of jacy petra todd, the second robin. the bad robin.

She holds a gun to a rapist’s head and presses the muzzle into skin hard enough to leave a mark, hard enough to make the piece of shit kneeling in front of her whimper.

They’re in a warehouse out by the docks, in the corner of a shadowy park, in some shitty back alley, trash piled up in careless heaps and the rats ignoring them. It’s nothing they haven’t seen before. There’s blood on the ground. There is always blood on the ground.

“Please,” they say, “please, don’t do this.”

“Come on,” she says, laughing. They hate it when she laughs. The helmet distorts her voice, turning it harsh and metallic, until the sound of it is like a knife under their skin. It is a weapon like any other; she is not afraid to use it. “Beg some more. See where it gets you.”

They cry, or retch, or shake, big tough men learning what it feels like to be powerless. Sometimes they piss themselves, the sharp odor of urine burning against the stink of blood and gunpowder.

The Bat may rule Gotham, but Crime Alley is the Red Hood’s haunt, and her lines are hard and fast. Everyone in the city knows what happens when you cross them.

“Please,” they say, staring up at her, searching flat red metal for an ounce of mercy. They never meet her eyes. Instead, they look where a mouth should be, and beg, just like she tells them to. “Please, please, I won’t do it again, I’ll never do it again, please!”

The gun doesn’t waver. Gotham beat the softness out of her wayward daughter years before Batman ever found her, before Robin ever fluttered into the Joker’s path, before she seared and burned and screamed her way back to consciousness in the Lazarus Pit.

“No,” she tells them, voice like a knife, gun steady in her hands—

stone by stone

sequel to no burden that will not float away featuring shitty coffee, former robins being bad at feelings, and the current robin judging them for it

[fire from fire]

[redacted] au where [redacted] dies and [redacted] snaps

She walks through the streets like a reckoning. She does not sing.

with a hawk above you crying

wonder woman fic inspired by emmylou harris’s michelangelo

last night i dreamed about you / i dreamed you lay dying / in a field of thorn and roses / with a hawk above you crying / for the warrior slain in battle / from an arrow driven deep inside you long ago—

Diana finds Antiope, and loses her, and finds her again.

you know the time is now

pitch, mike/ginny, mid-season onward au where they actually have to deal with their feelings

after all the bullshit surrounding the all-star game, mike decides he needs to take a step back, distance himself a bit from the ginny baker madness. so of course the first thing he does after the all-star game is get into a brawl. he can’t even blame it on some sort of convenient rage blackout. he makes a calm, rational decision to follow the fucker up the first base path, and calmly, rationally punches him in the face while ginny watches, stunned, from the mound.

varitek a-rod brawl whomst???

ask me about my wips!

#dash games #writing: best worst hobby #rape tw #rape mention #blood tw

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joybooth · 6 years ago

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Vogue 73 questions with Mike Lawson and Ginny Baker

“Hey Mike, what’s going on?”

“Not much, lookin’ forward to doing this interview.”

“I am too. Are you guys ready to answer 73 questions?”

“Sure, let’s go find Ginny.”

It turned out they found her sitting on a lounge by the pool in leggings and a t-shirt.

“So, you guys just finished playing in the World Series, any regrets?”

“No, we were excited to get there again this year,” Mike answered sitting next to Ginny.

“I mean, I hate to lose, but we played hard and that’s all you can do.”

“How many baseball games do you think you’ve played in your life?”

“For me? I have no idea. I’ve been playing since I was 5. That’s 35 years, between little league, AA, AAA and the majors? Let’s just say a lot,” Mike laughed.

“Same, minus 10 years,” Ginny added.

“Which of your competitors has helped you improve your game the most?”

“I would say Aaron Judge, a great hitter always makes me work that much harder for a strike.”

“Nolan, Nolan Arenado. I like to steal, but he keeps me honest.”

“If you could play any other sport, what would it be?”

“Tennis?” Ginny shrugged.

“I’ve always liked hockey.”

“Past or present who would you love to play with?”

“I gotta say Babe Ruth,” Mike said.

“For me, Cy Young or Yogi Berra.”

“What’s are you superstitious about?”

“I like a certain practice cage. I don’t know if it is a superstition, but I always go for that one if it’s available, and Mike used to sleep with his bat on game days.”

“Where do you go when you need to relax?”

“If I told you that, it wouldn’t be relaxing anymore,” Mike joked.

“We spend a lot of time at home, but we just took a vacation to Baja and that was really nice.”

“What is your nickname?”

“I call him old man.”

“And I call her rookie.”

“Who is the funniest person you know?”

“Dwayne,” Ginny answered after a moment of thought.

Mike nodded. “He is great. We were at a fundraiser for his foundation the other day, and everyone at the table was laughing crying.”

“Wait, do you mean Dwayne Johnson?” the interviewer asked.

“Yeah, we met at the Espys and get together every now and then. He throws a great BBQ every year.”

“OK, what is your go to karaoke song?”

“Baker loves anything by Beyoncé or Katy Perry. I stick to the Eagles and Duran Duran.”

“What song always makes you want to dance?”

“He is right. I love Katy Perry and Beyoncé, but Uptown Funk is my jam.”

“I don’t dance much, but no one can resist Love Shack.”

“What is your walk out song?”

“I have a mix I listen to, it’s mostly instrumentals to help me clear my head.”

“I go for the classic, eye of the tiger.”

“If you could only read one book from now on, what would it be?”

“Treasure Island has been my favorite for a long time. I’ve read it 5-6 times, and I wouldn’t mind reading it again.”

“That is really hard for me, because I don’t read things more than once very often, but… I’m going to say Esperanza Rising. I know it is a kid’s book, but I still have the copy I read in 5th grade. Someday I want to be able to share it with my kid.”

“Most absurd rule in baseball?”

“It’s not really a written rule, but there is this thing where everyone must be involved in am on-field fight. When Gin went after the Mountain, our assistant coach had to walk out there and hold onto the other coach. These guys are in their 60’s hugging on the field so it is nice and even numbers. I mean I get it, but it can look pretty silly.”

“Describe your style in one word?”

“Comfy?” Ginny ventured.

“If you could raid anyone’s closet who would it be?”

“David Beckham,” Mike answered quickly.

“Serena Williams.”

“Any hidden talents?”

“I love to knit.”

“No kidding. I can’t tell you how many times she got me with one of her needles on the bus.”

“On purpose?”

“No, he is just clumsy and doesn’t look before he sits down.”

“I did get some cute hats and that blanket over there out of it, though.” He gestured to a knit blue and white blanket with a Padre’s logo on it draped over a leather chair.

“Looks nice, now for a hard one. What is love?”

“Baby don’t hurt me?” Mike joked, Ginny batted his arm. “No, seriously, love is different for different for different people but for me, it is a commitment to something that you care deeply about.”

“That and finding someone to see the best in you even when you can’t see it in yourself.”

“What is the most romantic thing you’ve done for each other?”

“He leaves me notes in my locker on days when we don’t work together.”

“She rubs my back.”

“Best or worst pick up line someone has ever used with you?”

“I thought it was funny when this guy said, I was so distracted by you that I ran into that wall over there. So, I am going to need you name and phone number for insurance purposes.”

“Who said that?” Mike asked.

“Never mind, what’s yours?”

“A girl just walked up, put her hand out and asked me I could hold it while she went for a walk.”

“Did you?” the interviewer asked.

“I did,” Mike smiled, then he reached out and squeezed Ginny’s hand.

“Who was your childhood crush?”

“This guy.”

“She finally admits it. She had my poster on her wall, but now I have hers too.”

“What was the last show you binged?”

“We just got done rewatching all of Brooklyn 99.”

“He was a thing for Rosa.”

“She does too.”

“I mean, doesn’t everyone?”

“Name one thing you can’t live without.”

“Air?” Mike joked.

“A good wifi network,” Ginny groaned. “I hate when I’m on the road and we finally get to a hotel and they have super slow internet. I just want to relax and watch Youtube or scroll tumblr.”

“Name something you are terrible at.”

“Bowling,” Ginny answered.

“I suck at word games, scrabble, boggle, all that stuff. She usually beats me by at least 100 points.”

“What is the most nervous you’ve ever been?”

“My first game in the majors.”

“Same. Mine, not hers. I wasn’t really nervous for her because we didn’t know each other, but I remember almost blacking out the first time I walked onto the field.”

“Name one bad habit you just can’t break.”

“I bite my fingernails, so I have to keep them super short, but that’s fine, because I would have to for pitching anyway.”

“I am an emotional shopper. When things aren’t going well in life, I use retail therapy way too much.”

“He is not kidding. The good thing is he cleans his closet out once every six months and donates a lot of impulse buys to charity.”

“Craziest fan moment?” “A lady told me she named her baby after me and asked me to sign her. I signed her little shirt, but it was a little weird.”

“What is one phrase you use too much?”

“I’m just sayin’. She keeps reminding me how much it annoys her, but it just rolls off my tongue.”

“That’s ok, I always say my bad, and he hates that, so we are even.”

“If you could be any animal, what would it be?”

“I want to say something bad ass, but really I’m a house cat.”

“I can totally see that. I am a… a bear, but mostly because I just want to sleep and be left alone sometimes.”

“Can you say something in a different language?”

“Que bola? Its Cuban for what’s up. I picked it up from Livan.”

“I speak some Indonesian, from my mom. Tidak apa apa is no worries, which is what I use most in like everyday conversation.”

“What is one cause you care deeply about?”

“It is hard to name one, but I work a lot with our local children’s hospital,” Mike answered.

“I support NAACP legal defense fund, Equal justice initiative and the African wildlife foundation.”

“How do you celebrate your wins?”

“Ice cream or beer depending on the day.”

“How do you deal with loses?”

“I try to figure out what went wrong, so I can do it differently next time,” Ginny said thoughtfully.

“How do you deal with haters?”

Ginny laughed, “You just gotta block’em out.”

“If you could redo one game which would it be?”

“The game where I messed up my knee the first time.”

“Yeah, when I almost got the no hitter and instead messed up my arm, that was pretty bad.”

“Besides baseball what would you like to be remembered for?”

“Being a good person.”

“If you weren’t baseball players, what else would you be?”

“I would do something with cars.”

“I would do something with history? Teaching or maybe be an anthropologist?”

“Do you have a pregame ritual?”

“I have a pump mix but mostly I like to meditate and mentally prepare. I usually go over the lineup one last time with Mike.”

“How many MLB teams can you name in ten seconds?”

“The Padres, the Braves, the Dodgers, the A’s, the Rockies, the Yankees, Sox, Cubs, Phillies, Astros, Mariners…”

Mike took over, “Jays, Giants, Angels, Brewers…”

“And that’s time, good job. Name the best baseball player who ever lived.” “Babe Ruth.”

“Willie Mays.”

“If you could only eat one thing forever, what would it be?”

“Pizza?” Mike answered.

“Burgers, but they have to come with fries,” Ginny chimed in.

“What movie always makes you cry?”

“Field of dreams.”

“The Lion King.”

“What movie makes you scream in terror?”

“My friends dragged me to the Omen once, which was pretty scary, but mostly I don’t watch scary movies.”

“I watched the exorcist way too young, and that pretty much put me off scary movies for life.”

“What is the most inspirational sports film of all time?”

“I always liked Cinderella Man with Russel Crow.”

“I really liked the Life of Pi.”

“Who do you want to play you in the movie of your life?”

“I don’t know that they would make a movie of my life, but when they make hers I think Ryan Gossling is a good choice, or Ryan Reynolds, or any of the Marvel Chrises.”

“If they made a movie… I would say… Letitia Wright maybe?”

“What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”

“As a kid I broke my ankle trying to do a skate board trick,” Mike scratched the back of his neck and flushed slightly.

“What is one skill you wish you had but you don’t?”

“I am trying to learn to cook, but Mike still does it most of the time.”

“If you were a super hero, what would your name be?”

“Black Diamond.”

“Beard-Man.”

“Who’s your most famous follower on twitter?”

“I don’t have a twitter.”

“A lot of people follow me to hear about Ginny, I would say Anna Kendrick is the most famous.”

“You travel a lot for work, what are three things you take with you everywhere?”

“My headphones, a neck pillow, and my phone charger.” “Same.”

“Do you have an pets?”

“We have a dog,” Ginny whistled, and a mini pie ball dachshund call running out. “This is Chip. I named her after the cup from beauty and the beast. She is a super sweet girl.”

“What’s your zodiac sign?”

“I am a Libra and Ginny is a Leo.”

“What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?”

“He likes coffee or half-baked and I like Cherry Garcia.”

“What’s one household chore you hate to do?”

“We both hate the dishes, so we do them together, so we can get it over with quickly.”

“Do you have any collections?”

“I have a snow globe collection, and Mike collects baseball memorabilia.”

“Who is more competitive?“

“Me!” they both said quickly, then looked at the other and laughed.

“What is your go to date night?”

“We like to go see comedians.”

“He just got us tickets to see Ali Wong for our anniversary.”

“If you could go anywhere on vacation where would it be?”

“We are going to Kenya next month, and I am really excited about that,” Ginny answered.

“Me too.”

“What is your love language?”

“I like acts of service and words of affirmation,” Mike answered seriously for once.

“and for me, it is quality time.”

“Sleep in or rise early?”

“Sleep in!” Mike grinned.

“Read a book or watch TV?”

“Watch tv,” they agreed.

“Kiss or hug?”

“Kiss,” they both snapped.

“Strength training or cardio?”

“Cardio,” Ginny answered automatically

“I like strength training,” Mike added.

“You guys recently got married, what was the biggest change?”

“Not really anything? We already lived together.”

“Calling him my husband, is weird sometimes.”

“What was your favorite part of the wedding?”

“When we left?” Ginny laughed.

“What kind of cake did you have?”

“Just plain yellow cake with chocolate frosting,” Mike answered.

“Who caught the bouquet?”

“My agent, Amelia.”

“What song was your first dance to?”

“Unforgettable.”

“What are you doing today?”

“We’re going to the farmer’s market, then coming home for dinner with some friends.” Ginny answered, walking toward the door.

“Can I come along?”

Ginny made a face. “No, thanks for stopping by though.”

#and my homegirl Ginny B #Ginny Baker #ginsanity #pitch #pitch rewatch #pitchwithdrawls #pitch fic #bawson #bawson fanfic #bawson fic #mike lawson #missing mike Lawson

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chaos-weekly · 3 years ago

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Micah looked at the note again, the translated version that had everything in English. Thorn had printed off a copy moments after Zion pledged his fealty. The man grunted and walked off, returning with the printer seconds later.

“Atticus couldn’t save Tom Robinson, but he could avenge him.” Micah studied the words, analyzing them. Donny always joked that she was as wise as Atticus. He was smart like Scout, but she was the wise one. Ginny had always been Dill. Now it seemed that Donny was Tom Robinson.

The system had slaughtered Tom, even if they didn’t do it themselves. Racism, judgment, xenophobia, ableism, and so many other horrible brands of hate had killed an innocent man. Except Dante wasn’t innocent. Micah knew he dealt weed to the biker gang. She knew he was also in league with some powerful people, but he’d never said more than that. On the few occasions he gave any details, it was when drunk. And when Dante was drunk he mostly talked about Indy.

But now Dante was dead, and he wanted Micah to bring him to justice. Except with the information shared in his note, he didn’t want justice. He wanted the system to change. He wanted the world to correct its misdeeds. And he wanted Micah to do that for him.

This wasn’t just about avenging her brother. This was about making sure it never happened again.

“Donny wants us to redo the system,” Micah said, voice weak and scratchy from all her crying. Zion pushed her sweetened, creamy coffee towards her. Usually, she’d offer him a smile in thanks, but all she managed was a brief moment of eye contact.

“How?” Thorn asked, leaning back in the booth with folded arms. He was gruff and grumpy, but he seemed to have taken an interest in Indy. Even now, his gaze constantly flickered back to Micah’s best friend.

“Bring it to the media. Undeniable, solid evidence. Videoed confessions. Recordings can be proven altered, but a video recording is much more difficult.” This came from Indy, who met Thorn’s gaze with a challenging stare. He stared back at her blankly, and Micah took the chance to glance at Zion, with his sharp cheekbones and sweet eyes.

“How well do you know your brother-in-law?” Micah asked. Zion gestured to her still ignored coffee cup, and so she took a sip. Her voice must have been bad.

“Better than I’d like to. Enough to know he’s not a good guy. Dirty cop at best. Hates bikers ‘cause of Jimmy and Eden. Hates most people. Always on a power trip.”

“We need to find out how Dante was involved with the cops,” Indy said, still staring Thorn down. He never looked away from her. While he studied her, she was challenging him to speak. Neither of them would win at this. They were both far too stubborn. Rather, Thorn was too stubborn, and Indy was too competitive.

“I’ll have Dylan bring the flash drive over,” Micah mumbled. She dialed her other best friend’s number and waited for him to pick up. Dylan was Dante’s roommate, but Dylan had always been closer to Micah than to Donny.

“Micah? Hey,” he greeted. Dylan’s tone was unusually gentle. Made sense, considering the circumstances. At least he didn’t ask about her condition.

“Dyl, Donny left a flash drive somewhere in his room. It’s probably the neon one he always used for important things. Bring it to Jimmy’s ASAP. We’ll wait here for you.”

“We? Who are you with? What’s going on? Why are you at Jimmy’s?” Micah hung up before he could ask more questions. Dylan always reminded her of Ginny, despite their many differences. She couldn’t handle another reminder of another dead sibling.

Another sob choked out of Micah’s throat, and Indy finally broke the intense eye contact to wrap her arms around her. Micah leaned into her friend’s touch and warmth, but it only gave so much comfort. There was only so much comfort to be found. Her siblings were dead, the cops had murdered Dante, and now Donny expected Micah to bring them to justice.

“Have y’all eaten yet?” Zion asked, looking among the group. They all shook their heads. Micah had lost her appetite before she’d heard the news. It hadn’t surfaced since then.

“I’m going to make us dinner. Once we have the flash drive, we’ll go to my apartment. I have a good wine selection that helps everything feel better.” Zion looked over to Micah; she saw no pity in his eyes. Concern, care, worry, but not pity or judgment. No, “Oh poor girl, half her family is dead.” Just genuine concern and care. Micah hadn’t seen someone look at her like that when she was upset since before Ginny got sick. It was strange how refreshing it felt.

“Okay,” Micah whimpered, sniffling and wiping her eyes on her damp hoodie sleeve. The sleeves were practically drenched now, but she didn’t have another jacket, and she got cold too easily to take it off.

////

Dylan entered Jimmy’s and walked over to the booth where the four of them sat. Micah scooted out and held her hand out for the flash drive. When Dylan put it in her hand wordlessly, he closed her hand and used it to pull her into a hug. As usual, his hands went dangerously low on her back, grazing the top of her butt. He’d also squished her chest against his. That was Dylan for you, though. He knew Micah would never see him as anything other than a friend, and he wasn’t going to push her on that, but he would like and prod the boundaries. Micah had given up scolding him for it long ago.

“Thanks,” she whispered, dropping her arms from around his waist. It took him a few more seconds to do the same, his hands grazing against her waist as he pulled away.

“Are you good, Mike?” Dylan looked at her like Zion did, except he did pity her. He had red eyes, too, and not just from crying. He and Dante got along well for more than one reason.

Micah shrugged and sat back down in the booth across from Zion.

“Bye, Dyl.” She handed the flash drive to Indy, not making eye contact with Dylan. Usually she’d laugh and push him away or slap his chest. Usually she’d threaten to tell Dante, who would surely try and beat Dylan up. It wouldn’t end well for either of them, since they’d break more objects than bones. But usually Dante was alive. Usually Donny was still there.

Zion took the top of Micah’s hand in his and squeezed it with a gentle smile. Again, Micah nodded in reply, her only way of thanking him.

“Go.” Thorn’s rough voice brought Micah back to reality. Dylan hadn’t left yet.

“Not until Mike’s okay,” Dylan insisted.

“She’s fine. Now leave,” Thorn growled, standing to his impressive height of six foot something. Micah knew her friend was only five foot ten. He was muscular, but the skinny kind of built. Thorn was tall and broad. He would shatter Dylan’s brain with one punch, more likely than not.

“I’m fine, Dyl,” Micah insisted in a shaky voice that made it very clear how fine she was not. Dylan didn’t move, so Thorn stepped closer. It took about five seconds for the front doors to close behind him.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Zion asked, earning Micah’s attention. She shook her head.

“Does he know that?”

“We’re not too sure,” Indy answered, saving Micah from having to delve into her complicated friendship with Dylan. When it was just the two of them, they broke down into fits of laughter or screamed at each other while playing video games. He made her happy and free again. And the flirting was kept to a minimum. Then, when they were around others, the flirting surpassed the minimum. It was like he was trying to claim her as his own. And now Dante wasn’t here to stand between them. Micah sniffled again.

“Okay, we’re going back to my apartment. Anyone need a ride?” Zion looked among the new friends, all shaking their head.

////

The drive over to Zion’s apartment was short. He lived in the cheaper end of town, but it wasn’t the sketchy part of town, either. Micah was the last to arrive, and she hurried up the steps to Zion’s apartment and through the open door.

“Here,” someone said. Micah looked up to see Zion holding a hoodie out for her.

“Yours is wet. Figured you might want a new one.”

This time, Micah almost grimaced in her efforts to smile. It was a sweet gesture, and it was progress to being okay. Or it was progress to faking being okay. Either way, it was good. Zion was good.

#Salemsville Shenanigans

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macaroni-rascal · 8 years ago

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a hard-won lesson: a married bawson smut fic

As promised, my dear Jennifer @magicinhermadness , who is my face and also just the best ever. They are married in the fic but Mike still calls her Baker, I think of them as like the baseball Jim and Pam.

Basically: Ginny is a little shit, does something on purpose to rile Mike up and he tries to teach her a lesson.

(There is some spanking and a little bit of dirty talk, just as a warning – and this gif is purely for the hand porn…and the neck porn…and the arm porn…and beard porn…and…)

(cross posted on ao3)

Mike walks into his house and immediately understands why people are sometimes driven to commit murder.

He takes three deep breaths, rolls his neck, and calmly closes every cupboard that Ginny has left open. Mike cannot count the times he’s chided her, made fun of her, outright begged her to stop leaving the fucking cupboards open.

It’s one of his pet peeves, just one of those things that makes him want to scream into a pillow with rage.

Ginny knows this, has seen him rant to her while she stands to the side, barely trying to hold back her amused smile at the obvious torment she’s causing him.

He doesn’t know if she’s doing it on purpose, but it feels a little cruel. If she knows it makes his blood boil, why in the world would she continue to do it? She’s not that inconsiderate or unaware of herself.

So, why is his wife doing this to him?

“Ginny!"

"Up here, old man!”

Her voice carries down from the bedroom and he debates asking her to come downstairs but decides to go to her. He’s always loved seeing her in their bed, she loses tension, spreads out, is at her most vulnerable.

Christ.

She’s laying on her stomach, reading a book on top of the covers. She’s wearing a pair of Padres boy shorts, a personal favourite of his, and a dark tank top. Her hips bounce a little on the bed and she stretches, lifting her ass into the air.

His hands itch with a need to touch her.

Once again, she has to know what she’s doing.

She must.

Ginny turns her head and smiles, rolling over and rising to her knees, crawling to the end of the bed and waiting for him to walk over. She opens her arms expectantly, a warm smile on her face.

When he stays where he is, her head tilts and her arms drop. He squints at her because she looks confused, but there is something off about it; something underneath he can’t quite identity.

“You know I love you right?"

Her face screws up a little, "That sure is an ominous way to start a conversation, Lawson.”

“I just wanted to remind you before I started yelling, Mrs. Lawson,” even when he’s mad he can’t help but flirt.

I mean look at her, he thinks.

She settles back onto her haunches, lips pursing ever so slightly as she raises her eyebrows in question.

Once again, there is something in her expression that he can’t place and it makes his gut tighten.

“The cupboards, Ginny.”

Her expression stays the same but he could swear there’s a twinkle in her eye and the briefest smirk crosses her face before she goes back to looking innocent and confused as can be.

“Did I leave them open again?” Her eyes go wide and she tilts her head ever so slightly. He glares at her and she just bites her lip, trying to stop what looks to be the makings of a shit-eating grin from taking over her face.

“Ginny…”

“Mhm?” Her lip is firmly in the clutches of her teeth as he slowly stalks towards her; her head tilts back to maintain eye contact and he feels his pants start to tighten uncomfortably.

That little shit.

She did do it on purpose.

He reaches out a hand when he gets within touching distance and cups her cheek, thumbing at her lip until her teeth let go. She kisses the digit before opening her mouth and sucking on it, eyes teasing and playful.

In an instant he runs his hand down to her neck and makes her tilt her head higher.

“That’s the only thing you’ll be getting in your mouth today, Mrs. Lawson,” his voice is rough, low, full of promise.

She lets out a small broken whimper and he sees her squirm underneath his palm. He, whoever, is going to have fun putting his mouth wherever he likes.

Her pliant mouth is open and waiting for him when he leans down, sighing happily at her taste as she lets him dictate the speed and intensity of the kiss. Her arms come up to try and keep him close as she raises back onto her knees so they’re level.

His hands run down her back, feeling the flex and play of her muscles as she settles more fully into his body. Her own intrepid fingers map his chest, run up his arms, locking around his neck again and pulling him as close as possible.

Ginny rubs against him insistently, no doubt feeling the consequence of her teasing against her belly. It feels wonderful and Mike sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, biting like she had, nipping just on the point of too hard as she groans happily.

So, she’s in that sort of mood.

Okay then.

He digs his fingers hard into her hips to cease her movement and Ginny stills in his arms immediately.

Good girl.

He must murmur it out loud because he feels her shiver ever so slightly and hears her breath catch. Open, trusting eyes meet his when he pulls back to take her in. He doesn’t mind her leaving the cupboards open so much anymore.

“Mike…,” she goes to lean in again but he evades her, she groans and twists her fingers into his hair, “oh, fuck me,” she murmurs it, desperate and pleading.

“I don’t know if you deserve it after what you did,” he feels himself grow harder, watching her reaction. She tries to grind into him again but he’s holding her hips too tightly.

“Please, I want you, I want you inside me,” her voice is so raw, he hasn’t even fucked her yet and she sounds mindless with want. Mike feels a bone deep need to thrust inside of her and give her everything she’s begging for, but something holds him back.

She is loving this and he wants to indulge her. He wants to give her anything.

“Are you wet for me?"

She nods, a small whimper escaping her.

"And how do you want it? Do you want my hand?” He curls a hand down from her hip to cup her through her shorts, feeling the heat and moisture through the fabric. He holds back a grown at how easily she’s ready for him.

“Or my mouth?” As he kisses his way down her throat, biting at her left nipple through her tank top.

“Or something else?” She’s shaking like a leaf in his arms, she always does when she’s past turned on and fully out of her mind with lust.

Mike hears her mumble something, low and indistinct. The hand that’s still cupping between her legs moves back and forth over her, giving her pressure and something to grind down on, as he prompts again:

“What was that? You have to tell me what you want, otherwise…,” he makes to pull his hand away and that shocks her into a clear response.

“You! Mike, I just want you, touch me, please just touch me,” her fingers are flexing where she’s clutching him, the desperation in her voice making his arousal bump up a few notches while his ego inflates along with it.

Goddammit, his wife sounds so fucking beautiful when she begs.

“I am touching you,” he pointedly slides his free hand under her shirt.

Ginny lets out a small, frustrated cry than makes him smile.

She always takes a little bit of coaxing until she feels comfortable enough to be honest and open with him like this. He doesn’t mind, he’ll wait as long as she likes, he’s in no rush. In fact, she seems to be the more impatient one of the two.

“Your mouth, I want your mouth on me then I want you dick inside me, I want to be able to feel you later, please…” it all comes out in a rush and somehow, he becomes even harder, finally hearing her let go for him.

He shoves her back onto the bed, she goes willingly, languid and perfect.

“I can’t fuck you with your panties on,” his hands go to his belt and he all but preens when she gets distracted as he pulls out his erection and gives it a few pumps, teasing her and giving himself a little relief.

“Panties off, Baker,” he orders firmly and she scrambles to remove them, her eyes never leaving the movement of his hand.

“Good girl,” he praises, the wet fabric is disregarded carelessly and she bites her lip in anticipation when he crawls onto the bed beside her. Mike climbs on top of her, loving how warm and perfect she feels underneath him.

He kisses her, licking into her mouth, plundering, swallowing her helpless moans and choked whimpers.

Mike takes a slow, teasing path down her body, sucking marks and biting hard enough to make her gasp and writhe. When he reaches his destination, he gives her one long lick, delighting in how her hips buck under his mouth.

“Don’t move,” he orders and she stills instantly.

He decides he’s not going to help her, not going to hold her hips or legs, it’s going to be up to her to keep still. Mike settles back into the task at hand, licking into her, nipping at her lips and nosing at her clit while she tries in vain not to squirm.

“I said, don’t move,” he speaks into her wet warmth, kissing over her softly and slowly as punishment.

“I need…more…. I-I! Mike!” He sucks on her bundle of nerves while his chin and beard rub into her. She thrusts into his face and he pulls back completely.

“No, don’t stop! I’ll be good, please, Mike, oh please…,” she’s all but sobbing and he just grins savagely when she finally focuses enough to look down at him.

“Turn over and up on your knees,” she complies instantly, only letting out a small whine at needing to move and knowing he’s going to make her wait longer.

He runs both of his palms down her back to grip her ass firmly. Without warning he spanks her left cheek, more playful than anything but she moans loudly and wiggles under his hand so he settles in to punish her in full. He spanks her a few more times, harder each time until she can’t form words anymore, only high pitches groans and loud gasps.

He can see the evidence of how turned on she is, her wet thighs and glistening entrance, so perfect and tempting. His dick is almost painfully hard and he wants to slide into her so badly.

“Do you think you’ve earned it yet?” He asks, voice so gritty and turned on he barely recognizes himself.

She sags into the bed, muscles going lax then tensing as he slaps her ass again when she takes too long to answer.

“Yes! Please! I’m good, I need you inside me,” she’s talking into the pillow, her words jumbled and desperate and he can’t help the swoop on his stomach at how fucked out she sounds.

He doesn’t warn her, just drives into her body fully, only pausing for too short a second considering how hot and perfect she is around him, before pulling out and setting a punishing rhythm.

All Ginny can do is try and hold on as he uses her body, small moans escape her every time he bottoms out and he can feel how close she is, how close she’s probably been ever since she left the cupboards open, knowing this was going to be the end result.

Fuck, he loves her.

“So good, oh fuck, oh! Oh!” He reaches under her to circle her clit before rubbing over it hard. He wants to overwhelm her, for her to have nowhere to escape to, so she has to give in, give him everything.

Two more thrusts and she explodes around him, letting out hoarse and broken moans, her back contracting as she milks his dick, chasing her orgasm unashamedly.

Mike follows her a few seconds later, her velvet soft walls clutching him perfectly, making him feel at home, out of his mind, almost divine with rapture.

They fall onto the bed together, breathing heavily and slowly coming back down to earth.

When Mike can feel his limbs again, he shuffles down the bed and spreads a hand over the hot skin of her ass, sensitive from his attention.

“Feeling okay?” He asks, because he always does after they do anything like this.

Ginny only lets out a long, satisfied moan, pressing back into his hand and if he hadn’t just come he’d flip her over and take her again.

She’s insatiable.

A little while later, after all the sweat had cooled and they’d climbed under the blankets, Ginny scratches at his beard and throws him a playful smirk.

“So, you don’t mind if I leave the cupboard open, then?”

He doesn’t answer, just growls playfully and pins her underneath him.

Guess she didn’t learn her lesson the first time.

#bawson #pitch #bawon fic #my fics #the first fic ive written that is gonna be rated E #ive come so far lmaoooo #also for my pockets friends #and anyone else who loves a firm handed mike lawson and a little shit ginny baker #<3 #the plastics

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quitefancyou · 8 years ago

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Why did Pitch get cancelled?!? I just started watching it today omg

I AM HEATED.

Basically the ratings were really low. But not like Scream Queens low. The ratings weren’t low because the show sucked, they were low because it basically got a death slot competing against Thursday night football. Also, Fox did jack shit to promote it.

The ratings by NO MEANS matched the fan reaction. Opposite ends of the spectrum entirely. I was one of the first people to post in the tag the night of the Pilot and it BLEW UP. Within 24 hours my post was SEVERAL pages back. I couldn’t find it. Before you knew it, by episode 2, there was a full fledged fandom. It only kept growing. The characters were all amazing and the show gave what so many people asked for; diversity, dealing with real issues, and a strong POC female lead.

NOW I WONT KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO BAWSON. DOES GINNY MAKE IT BACK ON THE MOUND. DOES MIKE HAVE ANOTHER SEASON? DOES AMELIA COME BACK? DOES RACHEL ROT IN HELL?

FUCK FOX. I’m bitter.

#pitch #mike lawson #ginny baker #bawson #Anonymous

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megaphonemonday · 8 years ago

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"eyes" for the wip meme

I’m not sure if I should laugh or cry. you clocked me. why you gotta do me like this? literally every wip i have has this word multiple times. too many times. for those of you playing along at home: 13

draft: lose inhibitions/give exhibitions“Anyone know how much she’s had to drink?”

There are shrugs and rolled eyes all around. Nanny Lawson at it again.

“You weren’t counting?” Dusty jokes, turning back to the table.

Mike won’t dignify that with a response. Because they’ll definitely make fun of him if he does.

draft: a habit worth forming or she’s overboard, self assuredFor their part, the twins drag her past the kitchen island and into the living room, eagerly jabbering about the new video game they have and how their dad hasn’t let them have a turn yet.

Sure enough, Blip leans intently forward on the couch, eyes tracing the sword-wielding elf man on the screen.

“You nerd,” Ginny teases. “You would love Zelda.”

draft: another chance for us to get it rightOut on the dance floor, though, her dark skirt swirling around her thighs, she was lit up. Dark curls bounced with her movements, whipping into her face and catching on her ears. Her head tilted back and Mike could hear the echoes of her laugh rattle through his mind even if there was no way he could actually hear it over the music.

From clear across the room, Ginny’s sparkling eyes connected with his.

draft: baseball is pretty good too“Do you know how many times Evelyn’s called me in the past three hours? Nine times! I don’t think I’ve talked to her on the phone nine times before…”

The barrage of words died off as Mike’s eyes trailed over Ginny, at first to check her over for life-threatening injury as Evelyn apparently feared, but then to take in Ginny’s choice of pajamas.

draft: way more than you hate itThe little girl nodded solemnly, eyes wide. Her gaze flicked up to Mike and he did his best to give her a friendly smile. She didn’t run off screaming, which he counted as a win, but also turned her attention back to the woman before her, clearly deciding Mike wasn’t worth her time.

Mike couldn’t fault her logic.

draft: untitled bed sharing fic“Right,” he managed, turning towards his suitcase. It wasn’t as if he traveled with pajamas, mostly just stripping down to his boxers before hitting the hay, but he had to have something she could wear.

Finally, he offered up two options, figuring Ginny could pick. Her eyes darted between the Under Armour t shirt and his worn in flannel.

draft: guys like you ch. 2“Noah and I have decided we’re better off as friends.”

“You axed his benefits?” he smirks.

Ginny just rolls her eyes, but doesn’t disagree. Instead, she forces herself to turn back to her homework spread on the table. She’s supposed to be prepping a history essay that’s due next week and Noah had already distracted her.

draft: easy as 1, 2, 3Apparently, now that she had a better vantage, pointing wasn’t enough. Instead, she curled her fingers into his beard and tugged, like it was a set of reins and he was her noble steed.

“Ow! Mads, gentle,” he reminded her, still moving to the right the way she’d wanted. Immediately, his eyes went to the handiwork of his daughter, what she must have been pointing out all along.

draft: why do the yankees always win? ch. 6“I just think you should have told me that you were seeing someone, Ginny Bean,” comes Janet’s worried voice over the connection. Ginny suppresses the urge to roll her eyes before remembering that her mother’s all the way in North Carolina and can’t see her. She rolls her eyes. “I mean, to find out from Mrs. Hutchinson down the street because she’d been reading Us Weekly...”

draft: untitled smut fic“C’mon, Mike,” she said, skewering him with an unimpressed look even as her smile wouldn’t fade. She gestured up and down her long, lean form, “Have you seen me?”

He smirked at that, settling into the mattress and tucking his hands behind his head. There was no way he would ever get used to seeing Ginny walk around in his clothes. “Kinda hard not to see you, babe.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, but Mike could see the dimples threatening to make an appearance.

draft: anything you can doShe shrugged, the hitch in her shoulders sending her sliding over the edge of the mattress. Just before her head hit the ground, Ginny caught herself on her forearms. Mike snorted. In retaliation, she heaved herself into a flawless tripod, years of yoga training kicking in to keep her balanced. With a little effort, Ginny lowered one leg enough to wriggle her toes right in Mike’s face.

He rolled his eyes and gave her ankle a sharp tug.

draft: men of actionHe couldn’t say with any certainty when the dreams started.

Probably too soon. Before he even knew or respected her. But he knew what she looked like and the way her eyes went wide when they first made eye contact. He also knew how much he enjoyed that reaction from the women he slept with, although it usually came when they were both wearing far fewer clothes. It wasn’t that big of a leap for his brain to make.

draft: untitled fic 1“Gin?” he breathes, hushed and a little dreamy.

“Shh,” she murmurs back, taking the opportunity to press in closer, “go back to sleep.”

Mike doesn’t listen, rolling so he’s halfway on his back, face tipped towards her, eyes still closed. “Missed you.”

leave a word in my inbox and I’ll tell you if it’s in one of my WIPs!

#excitedcity #replies #qs and as #i wrote something #bawson #bawson snippets #that's too many drafts glenn #long post

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tv-will-kill-me · 8 years ago

Text

It’s All In The Pitch Pt. 5

A/N: Welp, I'm a dumb liar who lies all the time. I don't even have an explanation for the ten years it's been, just that I'm the worst! Hopefully this extra long chapter makes up for the terribleness that I've been, and hopefully, hopefully, I'll have a chapter done before the next ice age. But don't me, again, sorry I'm gross!

Ginny wiped at the corner of her eye, her stomach cramping painfully as another bout of giggles raked through her. Her laughter didn't die away until she straightened, a lone chuckle passing through her lips as he grimaced.

"Wait," she pressed her hand down onto the counter, "what?"

"Move in with me," he repeated, his voice uncertain. "Although I guess I should take that as my answer."

"Mike," he arched an eyebrow, and if Ginny squinted just right she could almost see exactly when he began building his walls. "Okay, maybe the laughter wasn't great, but you've got to understand where I'm coming from here. This is all new to me."

"Right," he shook his head, "it's fine. It was a stupid idea." He stepped back and over to the sink, his knuckles white as he gripped one of the frying pans.

She came up behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder and craning forward until she caught his eye. "It's not, really. It's just…it's been weeks."

"It's felt like more and you know it."

"It does," she answered, her voice insistent as she spoke, "because I cared so much about you from the moment I first saw you play, but I never thought that some stupid crush could lead to anything. And then I spent so much time trying to convince myself that this couldn't work."

"Spare me the history lesson," he grunted, "I was there."

Her gaze skated over his face, her mouth brushing along the curve of his jaw. "Yeah, which means you know how long it took for me to realize that this was something I needed, and even when I did, I couldn't admit it because I thought if I let myself want something so bad, it would hurt."

"I would never hurt you," he mumbled darkly.

"No," she agreed, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a soft smile, "but it'll hurt us both if we rush this. So, maybe you clear out a drawer for me, I stop stealing your clothes, and you stop pouting."

He tugged up an eyebrow, casting a quick glance over to her before letting his bottom lip slip out. "I'm a grown ass man, Baker, I don't pout."

He twisted, his hands falling to her hips, and she barked out a laugh, nipping at his lip until she felt it curve into a smile. "You're one hundred percent pouting, and honestly, it's sort of hot."

"Yeah?" He murmured, his eyes crinkling as his smile grew.

She hummed, sagging into him as something that felt a lot like relief coursed through her. She wasn't sure when exactly she began to live for these quiet moments when those cracks in Mike's walls tumbled around them, leaving her with the man who's stare made her knees quiver and her heart thud. But she didn't question it, welcoming the warmth that pooled in her cheeks and radiated from his palm.

"You won't move in," he finally said, "but how about something smaller?"

"Smaller?"

"Smaller," he echoed, "let me take you out."

"Right," Ginny snorted, perching her chin on his chest.

"I'm serious, Gin. Tonight, you wear a dress, I put on a tie, and we actually leave this damn apartment and act like we're together. In public."

"Okay," the word popped out before she had the chance to leash it, taking them both by surprise as she blinked. "Give me a time and place, and I might actually show up."

He watched her, his eyebrow curving up as her lips spread into a glittering beam, slow like molasses and doing wicked things to his stomach. "What?" She asked, a giggle carrying on the current in her voice.

He shook his head, letting his hands drop from their place on her hips. "Nothing," he said, "you just – you never seize to amaze me."

With a roll of her eyes, she reached up and yanked on his beard. "Why don't you do the dishes before you start crying, Old Man?" She teased, whipping around and heading towards the room. "And how about you save the flattery for our date?"

He bit back a laugh, his attention moving away from the sway of her hips and over to the sink and his burnt kitchenware. Pushing away from the counter, he turned on the tap, letting the scalding water run over his hands and startling when he heard her squeak.

"Our date!" She squealed, her face open and shining with a quiet joy that he saved for later when he laid in bed and remembered to thank whoever or whatever was up there past the stars for bringing Ginny Baker into his life. "Okay," she said, forcing her smile away as she tried to contain her bubbling excitement. Still, he could see it brimming in her eyes, desperate for an escape as she shoved her hair from her forehead.

"Yeah, Baker?"

"Sorry," she threw out, looking anything but, "I'm just gonna – " she gestured vaguely behind her, backing away from him with her dimples out and in full throttle.

"You do that," he smirked, his skin bright red and smarting as he grabbed at the sponge. "Eight, this living room, don't be late."

Evelyn opened the door on the second insistent knock, her phone pressed to her ear and amusement sending her eyebrow skyrocketing. "Hey Mom, I'm going to have to call you back."

"Help," Ginny shouldered past her, her arms full and her earlier excitement giving way to agitated panic. "I don't have anything to wear." Ginny skirted around the toys littering the floor, the corner of her lips perking at the sight of the half-finished Ginny Baker puzzle. "I'm burning that, by the way."

"The clothes or the scattered pieces of your face on my hardwood floor?"

"The latter, but if you don't figure out what I'm leaving this house in, then it could definitely become both."

Plucking the make-up bag from Ginny before it had the chance to tumble to the ground, Evelyn nudged Ginny down onto the couch. She rolled her weight onto her left hip, cocking her head to the side and considering Ginny with a thoughtful expression. "First of all, the puzzle is Blip's, and it's the only way I got any peace and quiet this weekend."

"Weird, but I'll ignore it."

"And second, what's got you all…" she fluttered her fingers, letting Ginny fill in the blanks. "The last time you showed up like this, your mother was in town and wanted you and Kevin to do some 'family bonding'."

"And you picked my outfit without the inquisition," Ginny countered, nodding over to the pile of dresses she'd lugged over to the house with her. "And, just to sweeten the deal, I stopped by the mall before I came here and got all new make up," she sang.

"Please Gin, you can't distract me with Sephora." Still, her fingers brushed over the glossy plastic, wistful longing lighting on her face. "What's going on?"

Ginny squirmed, her eyes fluttering shut as Evelyn uncapped an eyeliner and began to drag the pencil along Ginny's eyelids. "I might have a date." She confessed after a moment, earning a stilling hand dropped onto her bouncing knee.

"Stop moving," Evelyn ordered, her tongue peeking out as she bent in closer. "Might?"

"Do," Ginny amended.

Evelyn chewed on her cheek to keep from shrieking. "With a man?"

"Yes with a man," Ginny shot back, huffing out an exasperated sigh.

"And…?" Evelyn prodded, her breath warming Ginny's cheek as she tucked a finger underneath Ginny's chin and tilted her head up.

Her lips fought to tug up into a smile at the image of Mike dancing through her mind. "And, I'm happy," she admitted, chewing on the inside of her cheek, "and sort of excited."

"That's all well and good, but I need details." Evelyn stepped back, the eyeliner dipping from her grip and a tube of mascara flipping between her fingers. "Is this the reason you've been impossible to pin down?"

Ginny's shoulders bumped up, another answer that she couldn't give, not really. Even if a part of her screamed to pull Evelyn to her side and let it all come rushing out. To let Evelyn explain how Ginny had allowed Mike to chip at the pieces of herself that she'd put up to protect herself from the very feelings coursing through her, wild and singing.

"Don't worry, you'll tell me," Evelyn promised. "I'm thinking a smoky eye."

"Sounds good," Ginny sighed, shoving past the lump of guilt that had settled on her tongue, tasting of all the words she longed to say but couldn't seem to get out. "Amelia's back." She said after a few minutes of quiet, her nose crinkling at the powder that Evelyn brushed across her cheeks.

"Like back back?"

"Like looking for an apartment as we speak."

Evelyn paused, eyes narrowing. "Since when?"

"Since it turns out that being the first female pitcher in the MLB just isn't what it used to be for my bank account." She quipped, fingers twitching at her side. "I don't know, a part of me doesn't even care, you know? Let someone else do the shoots and the spreads and the interviews. I just want to play ball, right?"

"Right," Evelyn stepped back, her eye critical as she studied Ginny's face. "But?"

"But, at the same time, it feels sort of like I'm moving backwards." She quieted long enough for Evelyn to paint her lips with red lipstick so bright she almost wiped it off. "Like, if everyone stops wanting a piece of me then – "

"Then you stop being the Ginny Baker and start being just you again?"

Ginny exhaled, gaze flashing up to Evelyn's. "I'm being an idiot."

"Yeah," Evelyn affirmed, "but that's why you have me around." Collapsing onto the couch beside Ginny, she peeked over at her friend, her expression twisting with wicked amusement. "What does Mike Lawson think about this?"

Ginny resisted the urge to stiffen, eyes trained to her nails. "Should he have an opinion?"

"Sure," Evelyn commented smoothly, "what with all his nighttime activities."

"You," Ginny declared, "have a dirty mind."

"Like you weren't thinking it," she laughed, tucking her leg underneath her as she twisted to face Ginny. "And you know he'll have something to say about who's got you all dolled up and giggly."

"Well, it's none of his business," Ginny shot back, her neck burning even as the lie slid out just as sarcastic and biting as if she'd meant it. "And whatever happens between Mike and Amelia isn't my business, or yours either."

"Right," Evelyn droned, rolling her eyes and pushing herself from the couch. "Come on, nothing you brought is right. We go through my closet fast enough and maybe I can do something with your hair."

Ginny let Evelyn wrap her fingers around her wrist and tug her up, her feet sluggish as Evelyn pulled her along. "What's wrong with my hair?"

Mike checked his watch for the third time in the last five minutes, a snort slipping past his lips. He should have figured he'd be kept waiting.

"Something funny?" He glanced up, his mouth drying as he drank Ginny in, surprised at how she still managed to catch him off guard. She shot him a sweet smile, her fingers tangling with the necklaces resting against her collarbone, and leaned back against the door, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"What?" He rasped.

"I asked," she started impishly, her grin dimming as his stare roved away from the mischievous glimmer burning in her eyes, "something funny?" He hummed, his gaze moving past the silken black material clinging to her torso and the golden mesh shorts hanging from her hips. She crossed one long leg in front of the other, and God help him, he forgot how to speak, how to breath, everything flying from his head save for how she looked and the way it would feel for those champagne heels to dig into his shoulders.

"Um," he blinked, hoping for a bit of clarity, "it's eight-fifteen."

"I know," she replied casually, "but it takes some time to look this good."

With his hands fidgeting at his side, he ground out a feverish, "right."

"Hot date?" She asked, cocking her head to the side, a mass of curled black hair tumbling over her exposed shoulder.

Clearing his throat, he stood. "You could say that."

"You could," Ginny hummed, each of her steps painfully, deliberately slow, "I'd also take gorgeous, beautiful…"

"Sexy," he rumbled, his voice buzzing down her spine and making her toes curl. "You look," he loosed a breath, scrubbing his hand across his forehead, "you look incredible."

"You have Evelyn to thank for that," she informed him, her face heating as his eyes cut a path down her throat as she swallowed, "didn't really have anything that passed her very high standards."

"And what does she think you're doing tonight?"

She inhaled, his hands warm as they slid along her waist. "She knows about the date, just not the who."

"So, she thinks you look like this," she wasn't sure if they would leave his house if he kept doing this, pinning her down with the fire raging in his gaze, threatening to consume them both, "for some idiot?"

"She thinks I look like this because I wanted to," she corrected him, "regardless of who I spend my time with."

"Course."

Biting back a smile, she shook her head and stepped out of his reach, the glide of his fingers against the slight sliver of skin he'd found setting her blood on boil. "You make reservations?"

"We can be late."

She lifted a finger, pressing it to his mouth before they found their mark. "You asked me on a date, and I didn't spend hours being poked and prodded to end up hanging out here." She huffed out a sigh as his lips parted, his tongue warm as it circled her finger. "L-lawson," she faltered, a warning in her voice even as her expression darkened. He smirked around her finger, nipping down one last time before letting her pull away.

"You're right," he purred, shoving one hand into his pocket and letting the rest against her lower back, "let's go."

He ushered her out, locking the door behind them with a chuckle booming through his chest as she grit out a stinging, "bastard."

He could feel as her mood shifted, her lips caught between her teeth as she tossed lingering looks over at him from over the gear shift. He trained his eyes to the road, his grip tightening on the steering wheel when she craned forward to fiddle with his music, her shorts skimming up her thigh inch by tantalizing inch.

"You have anything from this century?" She murmured. "No offense, but I can't listen to anymore Aerosmith"

"Since when do you have a problem with my music?"

She glanced over at him from over her shoulder, the smell of strawberries and chocolate wafting up from her hair. "Since just about always. "

"You want Top 40, you should have gone out with Drake."

"I still could," she simpered, "but your bed's too big for one person."

"We're here." He said, swinging into the parking lot and slamming his foot down on the break.

"Great," she grinned, the flash of her teeth so feral that it had his lungs gasping for air. "I'm starving."

Stepping out of the car on shaky legs, he watched as she rolled her shoulders back and tucked her purse in the crock of her elbow.

"Coming?" She tossed over to him, smiling as he jogged over to her side and offering him a hand.

"You're gonna be the death of me, Rookie, you know that?" He said, their fingers intertwining as they sauntered into the restaurant. She turned, a smartass comment resting on her tongue no doubt, when her eyes widened.

"Mike," she gasped, twisting as far as his hand would allow to soak in as much as she could, "it's beautiful."

He ripped his gaze from her face, trying to see the room as she did, from the soft, twinkling lights that glimmered from the ceiling to the notes that floated through the air from the singular violin player in the corner.

"Thanks," he murmured, something about the space dropping his voice to a gentle whisper.

They strolled between tables, littered with rose petals, warm from the glow of the red, crackling flames coming from the fireplace, and so full. Full of people laughing and drinking, their attention everywhere but on Ginny as Mike tugged her along. She frowned, her grasp on Mike tightening as a few glanced over at her only to look away, either unaware of who Ginny was or…or too absorbed in their own dinner to care. She felt herself relax at the thought even as it drew a perplexed grimace to her lips.

"I own it." He explained, hoping to smooth away the confusion wrinkling her forehead.

Ginny whipped around, her eyebrows drawing together. "Excuse me?"

He nodded her over to the seat in the center of the restaurant, sketching a bemused brow as she lowered herself into her chair, her amazement warring with the wariness creeping into her eyes. "I know how worried you were about people finding out about us so I wanted to show how much I appreciate this step."

"Flowers would have worked too," she breathed, giving the waiter a slight smile as he set a wine bottle down onto the table.

Mike shrugged, his finger tapping along the stem of his wineglass. "Don't see the point in them. Flowers die, figured this place would be here for a while."

She straightened, taking her menu and hugging it to her chest. "So you bought me a restaurant."

"Bought a restaurant that we can use," he modified, "and I figured it wouldn't exactly hurt my wallet in the long run. As for the diners, their dinner is on me tonight as long as they promised to mind their own business."

"You really didn't have to do all of this," Ginny said, even as that last slice of her heart, the piece that always seemed to whisper warnings in her ears, that told her not to fall, not too fast maybe not ever, seemed to quiet. It might rear its head later on, in the middle of the night when it could massage her fears and insecurities, but for now, with the light of the candle sending dancing shadows flickering across Mike's face, it was silent.

"Doesn't matter that I didn't have to," he said, his words like a caress deep inside her chest, "I wanted to."

She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. "Well," she said once she was certain the pressure behind her eyes was nothing more than that, "hopefully the food's good."

Mike threw his head back and laughed, something like relief ringing in the sound. "Come on, let's order."

Dinner went by faster than Ginny could have imagined, her cheeks straining from the strength of her smile. Maybe it was the way they seemed to fade to the background, the anonymity wrapping around her like a hug she hadn't known she'd needed. Or maybe it was how the biggest surprise of the night hadn't been the restaurant he'd handed her with a ribbon wrapped around it, but how a part of him that Ginny hadn't realized he'd kept hidden seemed to come alive as they sat there.

Perching her elbow on the table, she watched as Mike spoke, his lips wrapping carefully around words she'd never thought she'd hear coming from him. About the teacher in high school that seemed to have it out for him after he'd reared ended her car and how he still visited the woman that never stopped seeing him as the kid who talked too loudly in her classroom. And about the months it took to convince his mother to teach him how to bake, only for him blow up their microwave with inedible chocolate chip cookies. Even about the books he'd tucked underneath his pillow as a child, as if the words would twist into a dream as soon as he shut his eyes. He peeled himself apart, revealing layers and bits that she plucked up and saved in her heart.

"If I hadn't played baseball, I probably would have become…a gymnast," he decided, deftly stealing a piece of duck from her plate.

Her hand flew to her mouth, keeping her sip of wine in place as she snorted. "No."

"Oh yeah," he exclaimed, "you should see my handstand."

"I'd pay money to see that," she laughed, "like, really good money. You could stop investing in your pension plan."

He coughed, stroking his thumb along his bottom lip as he bit back a smile. "I meant you should've seen my handstand, when I was ten, the last time I did one without landing on my ass."

Resting her cheek in her palm, Ginny said, "I think you're going to have to let that dream go."

"I've found a way to keep myself preoccupied," Mike sniffed, inclining his chin as his gaze snagged on the waiter moving over to their table. "You finished?"

She glanced down at her near empty plate, popping one last cube of duck into her mouth before nodding. "I don't think my stomach could handle any more."

"Mr. Lawson," the waiter said warmly, his eyes kind as he smiled at Ginny, "will you two be having any dessert?"

"I could eat," Ginny beamed, ignoring Mike's chuckle as she waved away the menu the waiter tried to pass her. "What do you recommend?"

"The chocolate torte has always been a house favorite, and the personal choice of Mr. Lawson."

"Andrew, please, it's just Mike. Mr. Lawson was my deadbeat dad."

"It's that sense of humor that makes us forget your terrible tipping, sir."

Mike quirked an eyebrow. "You trying to embarrass me in front of my girl, Andy?"

"Of course not," he said, flicking a wink over to Ginny. "I would never."

"If you wanted to though," Ginny interrupted with a flutter of her eyelashes, "you could start with more stories and that chocolate torte."

Andrew nodded, a smirk playing across his lips. "Right away."

"So I'm guessing you've come here before?" Ginny asked, heat slipping up her neck as Mike shuffled his chair in closer to hers.

"Bout twice a week until I left for college," he answered, settling in beside her and dropping a hand to her knee. "My uncle used to own the place, then had to sell it after he made some bad investments. The old bastard loved running the restaurant, so I figured I'd buy it back when I had the money and the time to make it something better than the cheap hot dog place that took it over, but it sort of slipped my mind."

"Until?"

He stilled, his hand stopping its inching crawl up her thigh. "Until you made it clear that you were too humiliated by this ugly mug to head over to the deli with me."

"While in desperate need of a shave, your face is actually one of my favorite parts of the day."

"Don't get all mushy on me, Baker, I may barf up my dinner."

"All right," she replied, brushing the tip of her nose against his cheek, "as if you don't know you're cute." Her smile dimmed as his hand glided past the hem of her shorts, up and up and up and up in smooth strokes that had her legs parting.

"I try," he murmured, "although, if I'm being honest, I don't have to try too hard." His finger, blazing against her body, swept across her skin, teasing her like only he knew how.

"Mike," she chided, her back arching as he toyed with the lace of her panties.

"Hold still, you've got a little…" He bent towards her, catching her bottom lip between his teeth and sending his tongue across in a slow drag that stole the breath from her chest. "Wine," he finished, swiping at the corner of his mouth as he pulled back.

"Thanks," she exhaled, struggling to remember where they were, and that even though tonight was one of the first where she hadn't felt the sting of a hundred pairs of eyes on her back, she and Mike were still surrounded by people. People who were now…leaving?

Ginny shook off the haze Mike's gently probing fingers had spread through her head, frowning as her stare darted around. "What's going on?" She asked, shooting him a warning look as his nail scraped along the part of her that normally ripped a purr past her lips.

"They're taking their desserts to go." Dropping a napkin over her lap, he smiled benignly as Andrew walked over to them, his coat draped over his arm and a set of keys swaying from his fingertips. "Andy, this when we say goodnight?"

"Yes, sir. Kitchen staff is heading out and all the guests are gone, so the restaurant is yours."

Standing, Mike reached forward and slapped his palm against Andrew's. "Bad tipper my ass," he grumbled, Andrew's face lighting as he pulled his hand to his side and came back with a fifty.

"Have a lovely time, Mr. Lawson, Ms. Baker." He said, nodding to Ginny one last time before scurrying towards the door.

Mike waited for the jingle of the bells to quiet before turning to Ginny. "All right, Baker, hope you're ready to roll up your sleeves."

"Wait," Ginny said, jerking her chin down and trying to hide her surprise, "what?"

"Roll up your sleeves," he repeated, impatience rolling from him as he offered her a hand, "come on, we're got work to do."

"Work," she replied slowly, "exactly how I like to finish off every successful date…without dessert."

"Successful, huh?" He hummed, nudging her towards the double doors at the back of the restaurant. "You ain't seen nothing yet."

She pushed through the doors, casting her gaze around the tiny room. "A kitchen," she exclaimed, trying, and failing, to muster up some sort of enthusiasm.

"With loads of dirty dishes. I got them to close early with the promise of some free labor."

She peeked back at him, eyebrows furrowing and a frown puckering on her lips. "Shouldn't you have been able to do that without roping me into cleanup duty?"

"Probably," he agreed, "but a dinner this good needs to be worked for."

"Okay," she drawled, rolling her eyes as she pulled her shoulders back. She snapped her fingers at his arm, and he passed her the hair-tie he'd taken to wearing around his wrist for when she grew tired of the mass of curls tumbling into her eyes.

Tugging her hair back into a ponytail, she cocked a hip out. "I wash, you dry?"

He nodded, his gaze scalding on her skin and his expression darkening. She flicked the sleeves of her blouse up, and, spun around, letting the water run over the stacks of dirty plates. It wasn't lost on her that they'd been here only hours before, her lips on the back of his neck and his hands plunged in his kitchen sink.

"So," she started, uncertain of what to do with the energy swirling around in the pit of her stomach, "I know a little about your uncle, what about the rest of your family?" She loosed a gasp as his fingertips drifted along her waist, ghosting caresses that ended at the belt tied around her waist. "Or," she continued haltingly, "um, more about your uncle?" She offered, her voice so unusual in her ears, husky and full of an unnerving amount of want. "H-how'd he end up with this place? You talk to him much?"

"That's what you want to do?" His said, the breath tickling the shell of her ear and his fingers deftly undoing the button of her shorts. He pressed the pad of his thumb against the hem of her underwear, his jaw clenching at the feel of the lace. "You wanna discuss my uncle?"

"We're doing dishes," she puffed, wriggling her soapy hands at him just as his finger swiped over her clit. "This has…got to be…a health violation."

His mouth warm as he kissed along her neck, he said, "I don't think I can dry anymore."

She threw her head back and laughed, her giggles giving way to pants as his fingers dipped inside her, first one and then two in a lazy, languid pace. "You're. So. Corny," she grit out, her hips thrusting forward.

"No," he snarled, teeth scraping that spot behind her ear that made her vision blur around the edges. His hand tightened on her hips, keeping her still. "Not yet."

"Mike," she whined, the sound desperate, raw, pleading.

He fit his leg between hers, spreading her thighs apart, and rubbed his thumb along her clit, her heaving sighs dancing through his ears and tugging at his cock. Pushing his crotch against her, he ground against her ass as he plunged his fingers back into her, the swipe of his tongue over the pulse point on her neck matching the in and out of his fingers.

"Mike," she begged, her bottom lip caught between her teeth and her grip tight on the counter. "Please."

That aching moan was all he needed to twist her around capture her mouth with his own. She melted into the kiss, wet hands snaking along the collar of his shirt and tangling in his hair. Groaning, he pushed his hips against hers, the last of his restraint slipping as she shoved back, taking as much as she gave and then some.

It was why a frustrated growl slipped from his lips when Ginny shook her head, her hands pressing against his chest and pushing him back.

"Not here," she decided, her face twisting with mirthful hesitance. "You didn't buy a restaurant just so that we could shut it down."

"I won't tell if you won't," he protested, surging forward, only to be met with a look that was quickly becoming his least favorite; the one that dared him to argue after she'd made up her mind. "Baker," he ground out, frowning as he felt his control on the situation dissipate.

"I'm going to go," she dashed forward and grazed a kiss between his eyebrows, "and get some fresh air." Another on his nose. "And then we," she grinned, dropping yet another kiss to cheek, "will actually clean up this place like you promised all your wonderful employees." One last, lingering kiss against his lips, and then she was gone, making sure her shorts were in place before yanking the door that led to the alley open and stepping out.

"Mike," she barked underneath her breath, "motherfucking," she kicked at a pebble, feeling shaky, and needy, and everything all in huge, unbearable waves, "Lawson!" Resting her forehead against the wall, she prayed that the cool brick would extinguish some of the fire licking at her skin. And then she closed her eyes, suddenly back against the sink, saying yes instead of not right now like she wished she had.

Ginny sensed him before he spoke, the hairs on her arm standing at attention once his breath ruffled the back of her hair. Darkness seemed to swirl around him, matching the electricity batting between them, and it was all she could do to keep from gasping.

"How about here?" Mike asked, an inferno burning in his whisper. She twisted, cupping her hand against the back of his neck and tugging, sending him crashing down against her lips. She kissed him, hungry as his tongue stroked along hers. He groaned into her mouth, her back arching into his traveling hands, desperate in their search of her body: a brush against her hips, a caress on her waist, a squeeze of her ass, a pinch in the space where her thighs met.

"Mike," she shuddered as he yanked her shirt from where it was tucked into her shorts. He bit down on her lip, a teasing warning that had her swallowing her squeaks. He pawed at the hem of her shirt, the fabric rucked up over her chest and the chill in the air nipped at her hardened nipples before the warmth of his mouth chased away the cold. He let her squirm, considering her breast with that lethal focus of his, before he smirked.

"Right?" He mumbled, reaching down to tweak her nipple. She growled, and he chuckled against her skin, kissing a path down the valley between her breasts. "Left?" He sighed, his tongue darting over the mound of her breast and over to her pulsing nipple. "Right," he declared, shooting her an impish look before his head dipped back down and her breast was in his mouth. He sucked and licked, nibbling until she was a heaving, quivering mess.

"Stop," she hissed, hooking her leg around his waist and wrenching him closer, "playing with me." He glanced at her through his lashes, and she shot him a poisonous look, grinding her hips against his until that playful spark died in his eyes, only a manic longing left in its place.

Mike's gaze glued to hers, feeding into the glittering frenzy growing in her as he pushed her leg aside long enough to snake her shorts down. His pants followed suit and he hoisted her up, using the wall as leverage and feeling for the wet heat between her legs.

"Your back?" She ground out, interlocking her arms behind his neck and sucking in breath as he pushed into her.

He exhaled through his nose, a long stream of air that tickled her collarbone. "What about it?" And then he rolled his hips.

Ginny trembled, sinking down onto his cock only for him to slam into her again, the sound of their slick skin slapping together filling the air. She cried out and he swallowed the moan, surging his mouth against hers and swirling his tongue around hers. Her thighs quivering, she tightened her hands on his shoulders him a wicked smile, tilting her head to the side. He braced, and yet that still wasn't enough as she pushed off from the wall and sunk down on his cock only to pull up again, her breasts bouncing as she rode him within a near inch of his sanity.

"Gin," he grunted, his knees weakening as her pussy milked his cock, her hands splayed across his chest and her head thrown back. "I can't…"

She paused, concern flashing through the fog of lust surrounding the last ten minutes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he stuttered, even as a spasm of pain rocketed through his back. Squinting, she gave an experimental rock of her hips and his knees buckled, jamming his hand against the wall to keep them upright. "Fuck!"

Ginny's legs dropped, her toes pressing to the ground. "It's okay, we can head home."

"Really," he pleaded, "I'm fine." There was no way he would let this moment pass, Ginny Baker half naked with the moon at his back and the breeze cooling the sweat on his skin. He stroked his thumb along her nipple, but she smacked at his wrist.

"Come on, Old Man," she teased gently, a tremor passing through Mike as he worked to keep his expression neutral. "Hurry up and I'll show you how much better it can be with a bed."

He frowned, but she grasped his chin and tilted it down, a nod and a compromise that he was reluctant to admit he needed. "You drive a hard bargain, Baker."

Something deep inside her squeezed, and she fluttered around his throbbing dick. "Do I?" She asked innocuously, her lashes batting and her smile saccharine.

"Don't do that," he warned, feeling that familiar pressure building in his back, "and I'm gonna need you to hop off," the pain built, not unlike the surge of heat that had been cresting threw his abdomen moments before.

"Wait, just – " She wriggled, laughter in her voice.

"Agh, Ginny I can't – " And as Ginny pulled him out, his legs gave out, crippling agony rippling across his lower back and making his muscles cramp.

They went crashing down, Mike twisting to take the brunt of the fall and a grunt pulling from his lips as she landed on him. He let his eyes slip shut, saturating in the humiliation of what was supposed to be a romantic night as water soaked into his pants and Ginny's hair tickled the bottom of his nose.

And then the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard floated up to his ears, curling the corners of his mouth even with his cheeks hot with mortification. Ginny snorted, which turned quickly to a giggle that gave way to that peal of horsey laughter that shook her body all the way down to their intertwined legs.

"You think this is funny?" Mike asked, his eyebrow darting up to the night sky.

She perched her chin on his chest, her beam obnoxiously bright. "My shorts are around my ankles, I've got alley water in my hair, and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna have to haul your geriatric ass up from the ground, but yes. I think this is incredibly funny, and sweet, and probably the most ridiculous date I've ever been on."

"I've got things trying to slither up my ass crack, Baker, your point?"

She heaved out a sigh, hopping up and fixing her clothes before offering him a hand. "My point," she said, hoisting him up and yanking his pants into place, "is that you're sweet for trying," she continued, making sure he was tucked in before buttoning the two ends of his pants together, "albeit absurdly misguided." Swiping at the dirt on his cheek, she shook her head. "If this is what the woman of San Diego are getting, then I'm seriously going to have to fact check those rave reviews I've been hearing."

She shivered and Mike slung his sports coat off, draping it over her shoulder and ignoring the patch of mud clinging to the right arm. "Can we just forget about this?" He asked, nodding towards the door. "Please?"

"You know, there were whispers of you being cheap a while back," she replied, whirling around to face him as they walked. "Didn't think that extended to hotel rooms. Geez, Lawson, you could have let me know you were low on cash, I would have much rather gotten a bed than a restaurant."

He shoved the door open and she ducked underneath his arm. "You're never gonna let this go?"

"Nope," she said, hopping onto the counter and kicking out her legs. He glanced down at those same champagne heels that had taken up so much of his thoughts, the gold now flecked with mud. He reached for a glass, filling it with water and pressing it to her hand, trying to decide if he lied her shoes better that way.

"Even if I ask nicely?" He protested, cupping her cheek in his hand. She leaned into his touch, her hair straining from its ponytail and tumbling into her eyes.

"Even if you do all the dishes?" She offered, taking a sip of water before tapping the glass against his bottom lip. "And maybe answer a question or two?"

He groaned, burying the tip of his nose into her hair before ghosting a kiss against her forehead. "A question?"

"Or two," she repeated, her neck craning as she stretched.

"First things first," he said, examining the bump just underneath her hairline. "You flinched just now." Her forehead wrinkled as she frowned, watching as he grabbed a paper towel and wrapped it around a handful of ice.

"I'm okay," she protested, waving away the ice pack.

"Baker," he ground out, his voice leaving little room for argument, "hold this while I check out your arm, and no backchat, alright?"

"Aye-aye, couch," she grumbled, smoothing it limply against her skin and waiting for him to look away poking her tongue out at him. She quieted, considering him carefully as he eyed her arm, his gaze critical as he poked at her bicep.

"Seems okay," he proclaimed, setting it gently at her side, "now your questions."

She dropped the icepack to her lap, fingers tearing at the edge of the napkin. "You ever think about it, what you'll do after you…"

"Retire?" He supplied for her, his shoulders shifting as he thought of an answer. "Not when I don't have to. It's not as easy to ignore when my knees give out when I'm having sex with a pretty girl, huh?"

"For either of us," she added, Mike's hand itching to trace the edges of her dimple.

"Besides," he went on as if she'd never spoken, "I'm no better at sports casting than I was on first base, and that was always the plan."

"And now?" She cocked her head to the side, blinking up at him as his lips pursed.

"I'll let you know when I have it figured out."

She waited, counting out his breaths before her words found their way back out. "And you wouldn't want to coach?" She asked, reaching for his hand and brushing a kiss to his palm. "Wouldn't want to be the next Skip?"

He focused on the feel of her lips against his skin, warm and achingly soft. "I think about it sometimes," he admitted, "but I imagine some little punk like Livan coming up, thinking they know everything in the world, and all I want is to set them straight. To make them see that they can't be great, not on their own, not without putting the team first."

"And that's bad?"

"No," he shrugged, "it'll probably be exactly what those jerks need. But then they'd step on my field, and someone else would crouch behind my plate, sending calls to my pitcher," she ducked her head, her smile bashful, "and I would miss it too much."

"But it's not like you can just walk away either," she argued. "Being a ballplayers being the best, it's in your blood, just like it's in mine."

He tensed, the soothing circles she rubbed against his arm doing nothing with the fresh wave of anxiety rolling through him. "I don't really want to think about this right now."

"Okay," she said, "but when you do, I'll be here." She pat his cheek, sliding down from the counter before nestling against him, her arms wrapping around his waist and her forehead on his chest. "Oh," she cried, pulling back, "I'm not helping clean up, just, by the way."

"Dessert's in the oven," he grunted, a reluctant smile perking on his lips. "Chocolate."

"I'll make sure to leave Andrew a thank you card." She laughed, falling back against the counter as he inched away, his eyes trained to hers. "And hey," she added, tearing her gaze away long enough to go to the oven and pull out the tortes, "think you can manage to keep your hands to yourself this time?"

His shoulders shook as he chuckled. "Yeah, yeah," he scoffed, "we'll see."

#Bawson #Bawson fic #It's All In The Pitch #Ginny Baker #Mike Lawson #Ginny x Mike #Fay Writes Things

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bawsanity · 8 years ago

Text

Frustration Part 3 Preview

OK, I had to call it, so here goes…a preview of Girls Night from Frustration Part 3…hoping to have the rest out within the next few days!

Part 3 Preview

By the next time Cara had found her way to San Diego, Ginny felt like she had everything under control. Noah was happy, she was satisfied, Amelia could barely contain herself, and Al and the front office were none the wiser as to what had brought on this unexpected change in their second year starter. Mike…was inscrutable, but Mike was always pretty tough to read, and if the satiated smile on his face after a night together told her anything, he was fine with the arrangement.

So she went to Evelyn’s that night feeling calm, happy, truly content by the time she was laid on the floor of the Sanders’ living room, laughing at Cara’s latest story of a run-in with a cop that led to a phone number in her wallet and a direct line to LAPD, “You know, in case I ever need anything,” she fell into peals of laughter at that, Evelyn letting out a few screams of her own. The boys were out with Blip somewhere, the third bottle of wine had been sufficiently drained, and all three of them had settled into another ‘mandatory’ girls’ night.

“So, Ginny…” Evelyn turned on the couch to look down at her, and Ginny knew that voice anywhere. That was her ‘spill the tea’ voice. When she used that voice, Ginny rarely slipped away unscathed, and the grin Cara shot in her direction only proved she’d be getting it from both sides this evening.

She cocked a brow up at her tipsy friend, and refrained from rolling her eyes. “So…what?” She dared her, but it wasn’t as if she hadn’t known this was coming. Ginny was hyper aware that when the three of them got together, the topic of her love life was bound to come up. After all, she had overshared last time, allowed them in a bit too far, and they were almost contracted to want more. It was in the girls’ night handbook.

“Oh, you know what,” Cara chimed in, her wine sloshing a little but managing to stay in the glass, earning a reproving glare from Evelyn. “How’s the billionaire?”

“Noah?” Ginny let out stupidly. What other billionaire could she possibly be referring to? The wine severely limited her ability to stall as she tried to decide how to answer the question. “He’s good…great, actually, he’s coming into town next week.”

“We all saw the picture of that tennis bracelet he got you…” She continued, the low pitch a telltale sign of prodding for details. “I take it that means things are going better for the two of you? A little less frustrating?”

Ahhh, the bracelet. A $45,000 limited edition Bulgari Serpenti that Noah’d had specially made for her to celebrate their 6 month anniversary. (6 months? What are we, in high school? She remembered thinking, but it was rude not to take the gift). The uniqueness of the bracelet had made both the tabloids and Vogue, complete with a paparazzi shot (skillfully staged by Amelia) of Noah giving her the silver-wrapped box over dinner in LA before she took off for the next day’s home game.

The bracelet was beautiful, actually, and very much Ginny’s style, which only made her feel all the more guilty when she was slipping it off her wrist and placing it on Mike’s nightstand later that night.

“I am definitely less…frustrated,” she chose her words carefully. Ginny was a terrible liar, so any hope of completely deceiving her girlfriends was out of the question. But she still didn’t need to give everything away.. Especially to her teammate’s wife who had no hope of ever keeping a secret.

Ev’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, and she piled on with a question of her own. “You know, Blip did mention you were a bit…calmer, these days, in the clubhouse…” Ginny pressed a hand over her eyes, shaking her head at how they got there this fast. “Does that mean you’re finally getting the sex you deserve?”

Ginny dropped her hand and gave her a dark glare, rolling her eyes at the word choice. “If I tell you I’m definitely getting the sex I deserve, can we maybe drop this for once?”

She should have known better. Evelyn and Cara cackled with laughter, a fourth bottle of wine opening in the chaos. Ginny raised her glass for a refill, hoping for once her friends would get the hint and drop this before an uncomfortable conversation became an embarrassing confession session that she wouldn’t be able to slow down.

“Ohhhhh, that’s what I like to hear!” Evelyn somehow managed to screech out while also sipping from her glass. “So how’d you do it? How did you get Noah to give you what you want?”

Ginny froze, her own wine glass halfway to her lips. She hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t expected so pointed a question so fast, and she inwardly chastised herself for not having an answer ready for the occasion. It’s not like she hadn’t known they would ask about this, and she should have planned a way to talk about Mike without actually talking about Mike so her girls would be satisfied. However, she hadn’t prepared. Hadn’t thought that it would come up so bluntly, and she was at a total loss for words.

The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, and Ginny knew she had given herself away.

Cara figured it out first, her face a mixture of shock and pure, gleeful excitement as she sat up, crossed her legs, and leered down at her. “Gin…Noah is the one giving you this great sex, right?”

#my fic #preview #frustration #pitch #bawson

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lajoymechell · 8 years ago

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Part 7 ( PITCH FANFIC / BAWSON ) "Moment of truth " 😍

Thanks to everyone who actually takes the time to read these. I'm not really sure if I'm any good at this , so I'll be happy to receive any feedback , negative or positive 😌👌🏾 read. Enjoy . Reblog. With trembling hands and a fluttering heart to match , Ginny found herself at the sink , several life changing white sticks face down on a hot pink towel , which looked so out of place in their neutral colored bathroom . She asked Mike to grab one to keep the sink sanitary , and he met and grabbed the one Evelyn gifted her at their house warming party . Anything in this house that was pink or remotely close to frills and other girly things were gifts from Evelyn , in fact . Maybe all of that would change if they had a girl ? But first they had to find out if they were having a a baby first . She doesn't even remember the walk over here , but she was very much aware of the weight the short journey held . After arguing with Mike for a full seven minutes about her right to pee in private , and finally having to physically push him out of the bathroom , she was ready . She knew he was just as nervous as she was , but having him over her shoulder the entire time wasn't helping . This was the moment of truth . Her whole life consisted of small moments , some she wanted to relive and some she wished she could forget . Meeting Mike wasn't a moment she thought would happen , like , who meets one of their favorite players in the world , the same guy she had pinned to her wall when she was younger and goes and falls in love with him ? Ginny baker , that's who. She knew somehow that the guy that slapped her butt on the field on her first day was someone underneath all that playfulness. Who knew she'd unearth the man he is today . Or that change that he would have on her. She once believed strongly in her independence and thoughts relationships were overrated . Crushes were fun , but her first love would always be baseball . That's what she worked all her life for . Mike made her see a different life, one that revolved around more than a white ball held together by red stitches. Most of all he her smile and laugh so hard her stomach hurt . He protected her at all cost , well enough actually that she knew their hypothetical child would be in good hands regardless . "What does it say ?" Mike asked impatiently form his seat on the bathtubs edge , where she made him sit to keep from wearing a hole in the floor . She had turned over the first test moments ago , but produced no emotion and was confusing him to no end . Was silence a good or a bad thing ? Was she in shock ? Ginny had yet to answer him , her mind still in its on clouds as she turned over the other three test , her eyes going back and forth between the identical results . Have you ever experienced a moment in life where everything felt surreal ? Where you weren't sure if you were actually there or your surroundings were real . Suddenly the bathroom felt foreign and it felt like she was watching herself stars in shock. She didn't know how bad she wanted these tests to be positive until now . She dropped the last one back on to the sink, not even bite bring to see if it hit the towel , before letting a powerful sob, her shoulders shaking , and her lungs fighting to exhale . Mike shook his head , knowing he had to be there for her , even though he was bitterly disappointed . He had imagined a little version of ....suddenly her sobs morphed into laughter . Mike didn't know what that meant . Maybe she was just having a moment or maybe they having a ... Ginny's scream could have awakened the dead . She ran to Mike , nit even knowing that he'd catch her , still blinded by her own tears . "We're having a baby !" She exclaimed. Relief shot through Mike , as he hugged her closer , careful not to squeeze her too hard . Ginny was his dream come true , something wonderful he didn't know he needed until he saw her . He knew things weren't always going to be rainbows and sunshine between the two of them , but as long as she was apart of it , it didn't matter . Wherever she was , was where he wanted to be . She was home . And now the love of his life was carrying the light of his life . Before he knew it , he was crying just as hard as she was , all tears of joy of course . He tapped her thighs , signaling her to lift up . She immediately wrapped her long legs around him , holding onto him for dear life as he carried her to their bedroom , depositing her on the bed when he got there . She sat up against the pillows , land lifted her shirt , her hands encasing her still fake abdomen . He couldn't think of a sweeter image if he tried . "I never imagined being someone's mother , or that it was possible to be this happy . Thank you " she said reaching out for him . He closed the distance between , so caught up on the moment that he didn't question what she was thanking him for . "So , who do you want to call first ? Evelyn ? I'm sure she was waiting on these result too " he joked , reaching over for her phone . Ginny stopped his hand halfway , linking their fingers together instead . " I'll tell her she was right tomorrow. Right now the only thing I want to do is end this special night talking about baby stuff , and arguing over how protective you're going go be form now on " Ginny smiled . "Oh yeah , and what else ?" Mike asked , giving her a smirk that she knew meant trouble . Ginny pulled the shirt the rest if the way over her head and flung it across the room somewhere , not concerned about its location . "I want to wake up tomorrow sore from celebrating " Ginny added as seductively as she could without laughing at mikes change in facial expression . "How did I not notice these rookie ?" He asked , his eyes glued to her sports bra clad chest . "Whatever , you in or not old man " Ginny teased . "I'm all in for you and this baby . Our family Mrs. Lawson " Mike declared before tackling her So this is how far I've gotten . If you guys want to see anything else from this storyline , the pregnancy, birth , whatever, just let me know 😌👌🏾👶🏽

#pitch #fanfic #ginny baker #mike lawson

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gosselaars · 8 years ago

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bawson prompt - something inspired by the song roses by james arthur pretty please

Love is in the little things. Ginny never quite realizedthere wasn’t a big moment or declaration of feelings. Too many episodes ofFriends and romantic comedies featuring middle aged actors, combined with alack of actual romantic experience outside of those small moments she managedto sneak for herself – all managed to create this delusion that love, romanticdeclarations… their big things. Said to a woman as the rain is pouring down andshe’s facing some kind of identity crisis.

(It takes six months with Mike to realize love is in thelittle things.)

The first time she realises she loves him, is the night shewakes up, soaked with sweat and in the throes of one of the worst panic attack’sshe had to date.

She can’t breathe, feeling as if the world is closing in onher and like this – this is it. She’sinjured, on the DL list for the next three to six months, with everyone aroundher treating her with kid gloves. She’s the superstar that pushed herself toofar and this is it. This is her moment. She’s never gonna be better than this,and this will forever be her legacy.

But Mike’s there.

One of his arms loops around her waist, his foreheadpressing to the back of her neck, warm breath coasting

“Match your breathing to mine.” He grumbled, voice thickwith sleep and exhaustion. (He’s been going hard as her with the rehab, eventhough Ginny’s told him countless times he doesn’t need to be there. They spend90% of their time together anyway, ever since the day he held her hand in thedoctor’s office.)

Ginny does what he says, inhaling when his chest movesagainst her back, exhaling when his breath coasts over her smooth skin. “I gotyou.”

I love you. Ginnythinks silently, I love you, I chooseyou, again and again and again.

The second time she realises she loves him; he’s just playedhis last game for the Padres. (It’s his knees that get him in the end. Hisdoctor says if it wasn’t his knees it would have been his back and Ginny –Ginny is just thankful he’s still going to be able to walk, let alone play afinal game.

The game is called in their favour – a win by three, she’sproud to note – and she’s the first one Mike hugs when he emerges from behindthe plate, hat clutched in his hand.

She traces the words into his back when he hugs her on thefield, fans screaming and tears in their – also her – eyes. (If Mike noticesthe word she traces, he doesn’t say anything. Ginny isn’t sure she should begrateful for that, or horrified he’ll never truly know the depth of thefeelings she has for him because she’s shit scared to label what’s between them.)

The third time she realises she loves him, truly so, he’smeeting her Mom for the second time. It’s not a big deal, Ginny tries to tellherself as she fusses with her dress for the fifth time that evening, pullingthe hemline down and adjusting the shoulder straps. (It’s not that she’sworried about the length or how she looks, she’s perfectly comfortable withinher right to where whatever the hell she wants as a 23 year old woman, but – shejust knows that her Mom is gonna lookover with that look of hers and her mood will go down the toilet.)

But Mike merely takes her hand under the dinner table,laughing along at the story Blip is telling, smiling as he jokes around withEvelyn, nodding along at whatever her mother says.

The whole time, he never lets go, merely holds her hand,squeezes occasionally, and that’s that.

(“He’s… something else. Changed since I last met him...” HerMom says as they’re leaving the restaurant.)

“You okay?” Mike asks her in the car, driving back to hishouse.

Ginny glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “Fine.” Shemerely replies, her throat closing around Ilove you.

She speaks those three little words on a Sunday morning,dirty breakfast dishes in the kitchen and half-full mugs of coffee on thelittle table. She’s got a practice later today and Mike’s got plans to finally fixthe leaky showerhead in the spare bathroom.

There’s no big declaration of feelings. There’s no rain. There’sno identity crisis.

(She knows who she is, where she’s going, what she wantsfrom her life. She knows that she wants everything she’s offered and she wantsit with the man sitting beside her.)

“I love you.”

Three simple words.

(Love is in the littlethings.)

Mike smiles.

#*gets back into the swing of writing with a bad prompt draft*#bawson #pitch #my writings #goodbyewrites #q and a

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youngerdrgrey · 8 years ago

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perks of being a regular // a pitch smoothie shop au

written for day 10 of 30 x 31, prompt: your job au. Part of my job's making smoothies. sO HERE'S A SMOOTHIE AU! (just accept it) -- [read on ao3]

Ginny starts going into the little smoothie shop because Will gets a job there. It's an easy way to say hi to her brother, get what she needs for the day, and keep on moving during her workouts. But her brother's not exactly consistent with actually showing up to his shifts, so most of the time Ginny winds up talking to his co-workers. He's got a manager, Evelyn, who'll walk from the back of the shop to sit with Ginny if they're there at the same time. And the whole place is decked out with baseball stuff because of the owner. He used to play, but when that didn't work out, he opened a smoothie shop and offered coaching advice in between whirls of the blender.

He likes to say that the blenders are just loud enough to drown out the screaming fans outside. Ginny hasn't seen many though.

"Hey, Lawson!" She drums her hands on the counter in front of the register. "You gonna take my order or keep watching your old plays in the back?!"

He cackles from the back of the shop. The set up has the main counter facing the door, the line of blenders and everything behind the counter, and then a back of store area where all the other business stuff happens. Mostly cash counting and hiding out from paying customers since apparently ex-MLB players don't care about looking professional.

Mike heads her way anyway, and his phone's still lit in his hands. "I'm not watching my plays, Baker." He drops the phone beside the register. It's paused on a youtube video, some iPhone video of her last game in Texas.

"You're watching mine." She tugs her headphones the rest of the way down so they wrap around her neck. "Isn't that a little...." Much? A little creepy? A little bit like he cares what she's doing and how she's doing?

He scoffs. "A little what? You should be happy I took the time to find this. You're really starting to blow over." He says it with a straight face, but #Ginnsanity doesn't seem to be going anywhere. People normally leave her alone if she's running, but the simple fact that she's set to play for the Padres in a week has her social media pages flooded with new followers.

She settles forward into her shoulders. Dumb habit, stupid way of closing off her chest and making herself seem a little smaller. "Can I just get a drink please?"

"Sure. Don't know why you're trying to hide though. We're a great team."

"We?" She shouldn't repeat it like that, but she has to.

He points right at her eye. Seriousness all in his. Practically speaks through gritted teeth. "Hey, once a Padre, always a Padre." Then, because he's apparently incapable of not being inappropriate with his customers, he says, "You never forget your first."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm building my own." Smoothie, she means, though he should know her order by this point with how often she comes in.

"Of course you are."

She rolls her eyes again. "Give me banana, kale, some carrot juice--"

"Whoa, wait, we've actually got a new drink we're starting up. Seasonal. Evelyn's writing it in when she gets in today. How about you try that?"

She sort of freezes up. "I drink the same thing every day. I don't really like to switch it up that much."

"Trust me, you'll love it," he says, but that fear in her eyes doesn't go anywhere. "Come on, Baker, when have I ever steered you wrong? You've been coming here since you found out the news. Will told me, you've trusted me since I was but a poster on your wall."

"I'm killing him."

Mike fake-winces. "He'd have to show up for you to kill him."

She adds, "Or for you to fire him."

Mike shrugs. "He does what he can. So, can you just trust me? Please?" He even leans forward with his forearms braced on the register. He's pitched right at her, so they're almost face to face. Just the small space of the counter between them. That and every single part of her self-control.

"Fine." Almost every part. She can try the drink and then toss it a block down if she doesn't like it. She reaches for her wallet, but he walks off without hitting anything into the register. "You didn't--"

"I'll put it on your tab." He grabs a blender and heads for the juicer. He throws on some gloves and starts piling ingredients in. Fresh oranges, fresh carrots, fresh apples. Then he scoops in some frozen bananas, some kale, a scoop of pineapple. Adds what she knows to be the energy boost and about half a scoop of the protein powder. He sets it to blend and glances back her way. "Stop watching me. It's weird."

But she had to watch him to know what he was making, and now that's he making it, it's -- "That's my drink."

He clicks his tongue. "It's better than your drink. I added pineapple and fresh apple juice. I wanted to add some pumpkin, but it's seasonal, so check back in if you make it that far."

The customizations don't really matter though. The point that she's trying to make still stands. "That's my drink, Lawson."

He barely blinks at her. "Yeah." He grabs the blender and shakes it a bit to make sure all the parts blend all the way, then sets it on again. "And before you start thinking this is some big romantic gesture to prove to you that I still have a heart, or some nice token of friendship from Evelyn, or -- I don't know -- some dumb ad campaign set up by your ballbuster of an agent, just stop. Okay. This is a money thing. Ginny Baker's favorite smoothie? Kids are gonna eat that up."

She nods, but the warmth spreads through her chest anyway. The smile builds on her cheeks.

He starts pouring the smoothie into a cup. "I'm serious, Baker. You're gonna make me an even richer man than I already am. Maybe help me remember why I bought into Evelyn's idea for a smoothie shop in the first place." He lids the drink and slides it around the register to her. "Stop giving me that look."

That look meaning misty, affected eyes and a bottom lip that won't quite meet her top one even when she tries to set her jaw. That look meaning the one she's pretty sure she's only shown to maybe two people in her whole lifetime, and that was her ex-boyfriend Trevor and now, Mike.

But he doesn't want to wind up doing this with her. Doesn't want to get roped into the madness any more than he already has. It's not a love declaration; it's a business move. And besides, Ginny doesn't date players, even ex-players who sometimes watch her like they'd come out of early retirement just to catch for her and sit next to her in the dug out.

She forces her jaw closed. Forces the water from her eyes and fakes some semblance of strength to her voice. She can try to be normal. Nonchalant. "Shouldn't I get a cut if my name's on it?"

He breathes easier when she tries. "I'll tell you what, this one's on the house."

She sips so she doesn't say something stupid like, thank you, or do you give all the pretty girls free drinks, or I've had a crush on you since before I even knew what crushes were and every time I come in here now I wonder if maybe you might like me too and if maybe it was fate that Will got this job at your shop and-- just other stupid stuff. She takes another sip, actually tastes it, and honest to God, she does not moan on purpose. She just never thought to put pineapple in the smoothie until now.

"You're a smoothie genius," she tells him.

He laughs, but his eyes are hooded over and he licks his lips a little too languidly. "Not the worst thing a woman's ever called me." He blinks though. Blinks and swallows, and his next look doesn't look quite so turned on. He's got too much control over himself. Too much he holds in instead of showing to the world. "Shouldn't you get back out there?"

She nods. "Yeah, I guess I should." The smoothie feels a bit more like a weight then, rather than a gift. "I'll see you around then." She turns for the door.

"We're launching it tomorrow," he says. "If you want to tweet about it, or pop in for a cameo."

She smiles to herself before she glances back at him. "It'll cost you."

He shrugs. "I'm good for it."

Yeah, he is.

#ginny x mike #bawson #pitch fic #pitch #ginny baker #mike lawson #smoothie au #this probs will never be expanded jsyk #mine #30 x 31

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