#@ that dude who watches ginny get married to another just to realize that dude was harry and the husband was draco fic

[nuatthebeach]

y’all ever just read well-written fics you know you’re not going to enjoy just to get surprised about…how much you didn’t enjoy it

[sarahlovesharrypotter]

Hinny Post-War Headcanon

Buckle your seatbelts my dudes.

harry and ginny immediately get back together immediately after the battle of hogwarts (obviously)

harry becomes and auror right away and ginny goes back to hogwarts

there's this ministry ball and winter 1998 (first one after the war) kingsley shaklebolt personally asks harry to attend because he's 'the chosen one' and harry refuses until he's allowed to bring Ginny as his +1 (ron & hermione are obviously invited too)

ginny asks harry to let her move in with him (because boi has no idea how to ask) so post-hogwarts she moves into his flat in muggle london

of course ginny is signed to a pro quidditch team right out of hogwarts because she is super good

in november 1999, harry makes an impromptu proposal to ginny, and she accepts, on the condition they get married quickly and with little fuss, so they have an "andy & april's fancy party" esque wedding and then go on a honeymoon, returning to announce it when they attend the ministry ball

flask forward a few years of adorable young married life where harry is a hot auror and ginny is a hot quidditch player and they are a power couple and head over heels for each other

in the summer of 2004, ginny finds out she is pregnant and is shocked but they're happy. she takes one season off for quidditch, and james sirius is born jan 2005, then ginny returns to pro quidditch aug 2005

by the fall of 2006, harry is unhappy, but has no idea why. he's a high ranking auror, has an amazing wife and son, but he feels all discombobulated. ginny, who knows him, tells him that he's not happy as an auror because he's been fighting for too long and harry's like nOo and he's being super angsty and drinks a lot and it all cumulates in ginny leaving him and moving back to the burrow and taking james with her

harry is distraught and has no idea what to do with himself and it takes like a month and a half for him to sober up enough to realizes that ginny was right and even though he wasn't fired (because who fires harry potter?) he quits and in early december to goes to the burrow to tell apologize to ginny for everything and they make up

on christmas day, ginny tells harry she is pregnant again, albus arthur is born may 2007

shortly after albus (or albie as they call him) is born minerva mcgonagall offers harry the DADA professor posting and he starts teaching the following september and he rocks at it because if we learned anything from OOTP it's that harry james potter was always meant to be a DADA professor (and let's be real he's so good at it that later he gets asks to give lessons to new auror recruits)

ginny return to quidditch in aug 2008 but decides to finally retire in spring 2009 because she would rather be at home with her babies and sometimes helping george with his shop

she ends up helping harry with odd DADA lessons because it's just an excuse to watch her awesome husband be a sexy professor

aug 2010 twins lily ginevra and ruby minerva are born (harry insisted on naming one of them after ginny who he is #obsessed with)

a couple years later ginny becomes hogwarts quidditch coach and she loves it and the kids are secretly super thrilled their parents teach at hogwarts because their parents are rad

and even though harry and ginny lived and fought in a war they came out the other side with so many issues but okay because they had each other and they have a good life together

--------

Wow that was wild. If you read it all I applaud you and thank you <3 <3

*If any of this sounds like another headcanon you've seen elsewhere or bits for different fanfictions it's probably because I spend to much time on the internet and things have been amalgamated in my mind to form an entire story that I really love, and I promise I don't mean to claim credit to anyone's ideas, it's just all been in my head for so long that I don't know where it all came from.

If anyone wants any clarification on these pints or is just why things pan out the way they do in my head drop me an ask!

xoSarah

[pagesoflauren]

A Thousand Years (vampire!Jack Lowden x reader AU) - Part 9

Part 8 Masterlist

Y/N sits at the dining table, fake flowers and leaves, a hot glue gun, branches and wire littering the entire surface as Socks plays with a fake flower on the floor by her feet. She’s mostly passing time as Jack naps upstairs.

Vampires don’t usually nap, but every once in a while they need to lay down and rest to recharge. She had laughed when he told her this, asking if he slept in a coffin like Dracula. This brought out his signature grumpy face, which she kissed away before she ushered him to bed and tucked him in.

“What do you think, Socks?” she asks, showing the feline the flower crown she was making for Halloween.

He blinks at her and she laughs.

“I was thinking the same thing, it does need more leaves.”

She sets to work, clicking away from the reference picture to another webpage with a list of coffeeshops in Liechtenstein, scrolling through the list as she pressed a leaf into a dot of hot glue. She had been calling coffeeshops for the past few weeks, ever since Lotta told her Thomas’s previous occupation. It had proven to be very difficult; apparently Liechtenstein had a lot of coffeeshops within a very small vicinity of each other. She had been calling shop after shop, talking to different managers and employees who had never heard the name before. She finds the next shop on the list and dials the number, listening for any sign of movement from Jack before pressing the call button.

The phone rings for a few seconds before someone answers.

“Hallo?” “Hallo, sprechen sie Englisch?” “Warten sie mal.”

Y/N recognizes warten as “wait”, so she settles the phone between her shoulder and ear, continuing to work as she hears some chatter on the other end.

“Hello?”

The man that answers has a slight accent and sounds quite young. The chances of him knowing Thomas are very slim.

“Hi, my name is Y/N, and I wanted to ask about a person who may have worked at your coffeeshop a few years ago?” “Sorry, Y/N, but it’s likely I don’t know this person you are talking to. Let me get my manager. I will have to stay on and translate for her though.” “Okay, that’s fine.”

She hears more chatter before the man in on the line again.

“What was his name?” “Thomas Morrison.” “Thomas Morrison,” he repeats. “How long ago did he work here?” “He should have left in 1995.”

He translates for his manager and she replies. “She has only been working here for a few years. The manager that…would have worked with this Thomas Morrison is retired.” “Is there a record of him somewhere? Something you can use to confirm that he did work there?”

There’s more discussion on the other line and Y/N can only pick up a few words.

“She said she will check, please give her a minute.” “Okay.”

She finishes the last touches of the flower crown and surveys it before setting aside to dry completely. She adjusts her phone to rest in her hand and leans her elbows on the table, rubbing the sore spot on her neck that developed from her neck being bent uncomfortably.

“Miss?” the boy says on the other line. “Hi, yes, I’m here.” “We do have record of this Thomas Morrison. He left to go to medical school in Belgium.” “Medical school?” “Yes.” “Do you know which one?” “I do not, I’m sorry. That’s all he said in his reason for resigning.” “Okay. Thank you so much.” “You’re welcome. Goodbye.”

She hangs up and sighs, looking down at Socks, who’s still occupied with the fake flower.

“Why can’t he be easier to find?” she mutters to him.

Socks meows and walks to his food bowl, looking at her expectantly.

“I wouldn’t expect you to sympathize,” she laughs, getting up to make his food, “You are a cat after all. And you only use me and Jack for food, don’t you?”

He meows again, rubbing against her leg as he watches her work.

“That is why, dear Socks, you are an imp for Halloween,” she says, mashing the wet food so that she can mix it with his dry food, “and Jack and I will be Hades and Persephone. I would dress you up as Cerberus, but an imp is much more suiting.”

“You can say that again,” she hears Jack say from the entrance to the kitchen. She sets Socks’ food bowl on the floor for him to eat before rushing over to hug him. He holds her as if he hasn’t seen her in days. “Did you have a good sleep?” she asks. “I did. What did you do while I was asleep?” “Worked on my Halloween costume. Do you dream? Did you dream?” Jack nods, smiling to himself. “What’d you dream about?”

Jack settles his back against a tree, sitting contentedly in the shade as he bites into an apple. Y/N leans against him and runs a hand up and down her swollen belly. She’s due any day now, the doctor said. He fiddles with the strands of hair that frame her face and she turns to face him, pressing a kiss into his cheek.

It’s 1878. Jack married Y/N immediately after finishing school. They live in a cottage not too far from his childhood home.

Their children run and toddle about the open field, the boys looking after their two-year-old sister as she runs into her eldest brother’s arms, giggling as she does. She squeals happily when the ten-year-old picks her up with both his arms.

“Andrew, be careful,” Jack calls to him, “make sure you support her!”

Andrew adjusts his arms to have one rest under her thighs as the other holds her back.

“Good lad,” Jack smiles to himself, “Junior! Fix your sock, it’s falling!”

The boy that’s inherited the most of Jack’s features looks up at him before looking down and pulling his sock up to cover his knee. He’s eight, the oldest of their middle children, three years older than his other brother and five years older than his sister.

“When can I carry Ginny?” the youngest boy asks, looking up at his brother. “When you’re big like me, Tommy,” Andrew says simply, “but she might be big then, too.” “Don’t worry, loves,” Y/N calls, “you’ll have another baby to carry, soon enough.” “Will it be a boy or another girl?” Junior says, stumbling over to his parents on the picnic table, bright blue eyes fixed on the bump. “I don’t know, darling,” Y/N says, “we’ll find out soon.” “When?” he asks impatiently. “Could be tomorrow, could be next week,” Jack answers. “But I want to know now!” “Patience, my love,” Y/N says, kissing the little boy’s nose, “It’ll happen before you know it.”

Jack Jr. huffs, pouting and furrowing his eyebrows.

“C’mere lad,” Jack says, the boy climbing into his lap, “You’re just like me. Far too excited for this.” “I just want to be like Andrew. I want to help you and mummy. He carries Ginny when we walk because you have to hold mummy and mummy’s got the baby in her tummy and-and Tommy and I carry the other stuff—“ “Oh, love, you and Tommy already help us. You take such good care of Ginny and you all make us so happy.” “But when that baby comes, I carry it, right?” “Mummy might carry ‘em for a little bit. Then when they’ve grown a bit you can help.” “Promise?” the boy asks, sticking a pale pinkie between him and his father. Jack laughs hooking his pinkie with his. “Of course, I promise.”

The afternoon carries on, Jack joining his children as he rolls in the grass and feels the sun on his skin. When they all head home, he embraces his wife, her head settling on his chest as his heart beats.

Jack’s eyes open as he exhales. He feels refreshed, albeit a little groggy and he rubs his eyes as he sits up. The blanket Y/N had laid over his chest falls in a heap on his lap. He thinks back to the dream. Y/N as his wife and five children. He loves the idea.

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears her talking.

“I wouldn’t expect you to sympathize. You are a cat after all.”

He chuckles to himself, getting out of bed and pulling a shirt over his torso as he heads downstairs.

“Just…just us,” he says, leaving out the part about children, “We were having a picnic in the summer.” She looks up at him, worrying that he might feel bad that they can’t do that. “Jack…” “Don’t worry about it, lass. So, how’s the costume coming along?” “Well yours is done, it was literally just a black piece of fabric fastened with a skull brooch. Then I just finished my flower crown.” “What time are we supposed to get there?” “Around 10:00.” “TEN!?” Jack says incredulously, startling Socks. “Yeah, the club doesn’t open till then. And it’s got a lounge upstairs for vampires according to Ash. It’s the club he and Garrett met at.” “How long are we going to be out?” “Why are you so worried, you don’t sleep!” “That’s just…so late.” “Come on, old man,” Y/N chides, “live a little.” “Oh shut it,” he laughs, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. “Just promise me you won’t drink too much.” “Alright, I’ll try,” she laughs.

“WHERE’S JAAACCCKKKK,” Y/N cried, a beer in her hand and her flower crown sliding off her head. “Oh, jeez, babe, get yourself together, you don’t wanna look like trash,” Ash said as he fixed it for her, laughing and hiccuping as he took a swig of his own beer. “But I don’t look anything like you? I’m wearing a dress and you’re Gary King.” “No, I said trash,” he yells over the music. “OOHHHHH I THOUGHT YOU SAID ‘ASH’ LIKE YOUR NAME.” “No, but I do need to get on your level,” he says, downing his beer and ordering another one.

“Persephone,” a male voice booms over the music. Y/N turns to him, smiling at first because she’s expecting her boyfriend, then scowling when she sees it’s someone else. “You know Persephone’s daddy was Zeus, right?” he smirks, holding up his lightning bolt.

Y/N looks at Ash, he looks at her before they burst out laughing.

“You also realize Persephone’s m-married, right?” Y/N laughs, “to Hades.”—she hiccups—“Quite frankly my Hades would kick your ass.” “I’m sure Hades wouldn’t mind if Zeus had some fun for a night,” the man continues, his confidence dampened a little. “Bruh, trust me, I know her Hades,” Ash says, chugging half his beer, “don’t mess with him.” “Seriously, dude, things aren’t looking good for you,” Y/N says, “byeeee.”

They wave him off together and he’s visibly deflated, but soon enough he’s going after some other girl in a Greek-looking costume. “What an idiot,” Ash laughs. “Whatever,” Y/N says, “wanna take a shot with me?” “Hell yes.”

Jack and Garrett are surprised to find the upstairs lounge very overcrowded with other vampires. There’s a good amount of them around the bar waiting to order drinks, some of them on the dance floor and others on the couches with feeders on their laps. Jack stares at the seating area a bit too long, catching Garrett’s attention. “You think Y/N’d be okay if you had one tonight?” he asks, pointing to a group of young men and women waiting for a vampire to invite them over for a drink. “What?” Jack replies, snapping out of his daze, “Oh, no. I don’t do that anymore.” “Ah, not since you’ve met her?” “No, I haven’t done it in a couple years. I hunt out in the countryside.” “Bears?” “Deer, mostly.” “I see. Why’d you stop? With feeders, I mean.” “Got a little too attached, I guess. I couldn’t really bear it,” Jack says simply, summing it up without complications. “Ah, I see.” “You think it’s gonna take long to get our drinks?” “Why?” “M’just worried about Y/N.” “Nah, don’t worry mate, she’ll be fine with Ash.”

They eventually make it to the bar and order their drinks, deciding to go back downstairs to rejoin Y/N and Ash wherever they were. Jack almost stumbles over the piece of long cloth hanging from his costume, nearly dropping his drink and tumbling down the stairs. “Christ,” he breathes, “How did people wear these back then?” “Beats me,” Garrett shrugs. “You’re lucky you picked a modern costume. Y/N wanted to be Persephone and Hades because I’m grumpy like him and she’s all flowery and stuff.” Garrett snorts a laugh, “It’s kinda true, mate,” he says, sipping his whiskey. “Bleh, too much whiskey.” “What, bad proportions?” Jack asks as he sips his own drink. It’s not that bad. It’s the first time he’s had a cruento, and he’s enjoying it. He likes the idea of being able to drink again while also satisfying his craving for blood, though the taste is a bit foreign since he’s gotten so used to drinking animal blood.

“Do you see them anywhere?” Garrett asks, his eyes searching for their partners. They must’ve been somewhere dancing in the crowd since they’re no longer at the bar when they left them half an hour ago.

The time was creeping to midnight; it had taken the group nearly an hour to get into the damn place despite arriving before 10 and forty-five minutes for Garrett and Jack to get their drinks. It’s obvious Ash and Y/N had gone to town with the drinking because the two vampires can hear them screaming Britney Spears lyrics over the shouts of the crowd. They weave in and out of the group of sweaty, dancing bodies, denying people who ask them to dance. “No, sorry lass, I’ve got a girlfriend.” “Excuse me—nah I’m good.” “M’good mate, not much of a dancer.” “No thanks I’m gay.”

When they finally find them, they don’t know how to react.

They’re in the middle of the dance floor, with traffic cones on their heads, empty glasses in their hands and screaming the lyrics to “…Baby One More Time.”

“Uh…” Garrett stammers out, “Yeah, you were right to worry. Y/N, ASH WHAT IS GOING ON?”

“GARRETT!!!” Ash exclaims excitedly, rushing to him before throwing his arms around his shoulders, “We’re listening to classics! But that might mean something different to you since you’re”—he hiccups—“like 500 or something.”

“I’m only 224,” Garrett says, steadying him by his waist, “How much have you had?” Ash holds up his arm; there’s only two lines drawn on it. “Oh we-we stopped count’n after two but I think it was…Y/N how much have we had?” She’s too busy giggling at Jack and stroking his beard to answer. “Dunno, maybe ten?” Ash answers instead. “Alright, that’s too much, let’s go home,” Garrett says, beginning to pull him out of the crowd.

“Y/N, love, where’s your crown?” he asks, pulling the traffic cone off her head and letting it fall to the floor. “I dunno. Why are you holding me though? I have a boyfriend and he’s dressed like—hey! He’s got the same costume as you!” “Darling, it’s me,” Jack explains. “Ohhhh really?” she asks, her hands coming up to stroke his cheek and feel the scratchy texture of his beard, “it is! Jack, I missed you!”

Jack hears Garrett begin to pull Ash out of the crowd and starts trying to coax Y/N into his arms to do the same. “Come on, love, let’s get you home.” “But I want food!” she whines, hanging off him as he practically carries her by her waist. “We’ll get you food, alright? Don’t you worry love, let’s just get outta here.” “Okay. You’re kinda strong, aren’t you?” she giggles.

He laughs, remembering how she said the same thing to him the first night they met. “Yeah, just a bit, love.”

Once he’s pulled her out of the crowd, he finds Garrett and Ash slowly making their way out of the club. The two vampires guide their partners to the car, Garrett and Ash climbing into the backseat as Jack lifts Y/N to sit in the passenger’s side. He buckles her in and she’s looking at him. “What, what’s wrong?” “I want a kiss.”

He huffs a chuckle, pressing his lips to hers and feeling his nose wrinkle at the taste of alcohol on her lips.

“Alright,” he says as he pulls away, “what would you like to eat?” “I want garlic fries.” He wrinkles his nose again. “Are you sure, love?” “Mhmm. Garlic fries and a milkshake.” “What does he want?” Jack asks Garrett, who repeats the question to Ash who’s playing with the zipper on his jacket. “I want garlic fries too.” “Alright,” Jack concedes, “let’s get you two some garlic fries.”

At almost 1:00, Y/N and Ash’s craving is satisfied and Jack has dropped off Garrett and Ash at their place before bringing Y/N home. He carries her upstairs before sitting her on the bed. He helps her take off her costume, unpinning and pulling the fabric off her figure and folding it to place on top of the dresser. He takes her shoes and leggings off and is about to go grab her a glass of water when she grips his shirt.

“What is it?” he coos. “Want…want this,” she says simply. “Okay,” he laughs. He unpins his own costume and lets it pool at his feet before taking his shirt off and placing it on the bed next to her. “Arms up,” he instructs her. She complies and he pulls her tank top over her head and unclasps her bra. He puts his shirt on for her, smiling as she practically swims in it.

“Wanna take off your makeup?” he asks. She nods and he turns to grab a makeup wipe for her. She wipes her makeup as he goes down to fetch a glass of water for her. When he returns, she’s occupied with the yellow blanket they had brought out from the basement. She’s running the fabric between her fingers and staring at it intently.

“Y/N, darling,” he calls softly, bringing her attention to him, “come drink this for me.” “Okay,” she says quietly, bringing the glass to her lips and gulping the water down.

When she’s done, he takes the glass away and sets it on the bedside table before opening his arms for her to cuddle into him. She wraps whatever appendages she can around his body, clinging to him like a koala and Jack can’t help but laugh, so endeared by her. He imagines this is what would’ve happened if he stayed the first night they met, her holding onto him as if he’s going to disappear and him feeling nothing but pure adoration for her.

Tagging: @albionscastle and @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff :)

[megaphonemonday]

Prompt Request: it would be greatly appreciated :) Ginny plays a game of "never have I ever" with Evelyn and some of the Padre's WAGS. And learns that one WAG had a fling with Mike.

Okay, so I’m actually really interested in when Ginny realized that her teenage crush/idolization of Mike had become something more. Because I don’t think there’s any way that she walks out on a first date with a guy she seems to like a lot without having realized that she feels something more for him than she does her other teammates. 

Also, I couldn’t figure out an organic way to get them all playing “Never Have I Ever,” but if that’s important to you check out guys like you (which has lots of smut as a bonus if you’re into that)

just like a ring of fire | ao3

“C’mon, Ginny,” Evelyn practically whined. “You have to be in need of some serious girl time. You’ve been cooped up on a bus with just gross boys for too long. I can’t even imagine how that bus smells.”

“Like too much Axe and Drakkar Noir.”

Her friend’s nose wrinkled and Ginny had to laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. It was only half true, but she liked how easy it was to gross Evelyn out. 

And it wasn’t as if Ev was wrong. She had been stewing in a lot of testosterone lately. Just, Ev’s alternative didn’t seem much more appealing.

Sensing Ginny’s ambivalence, Evelyn wheedled, “You haven’t even met most of them yet.”

“Do I need to? It’s not like that many of them liked me back in San Antonio or El Paso.”

Evelyn flapped her hand. “That was the minors.”

“You’re telling me the stakes lower for WAGs when y’all hit the big leagues?”

Evelyn, though clearly stumped by that, refused to retreat. 

“Ginny,” she pleaded, doing a remarkable impression of Gabe and Marcus begging for another piggy back ride. “I already told them you’re coming. Don’t turn me into a liar!”

“That sounds like a you problem, Ev,” she replied, cursing the fact that she could already feel herself softening. Evelyn might be immune to guilt, but Ginny was not. Especially not when her friend asked so little of her. 

“What did you want me to say? They were driving me nuts asking about you!”

Ginny narrowed her eyes. “Asking what exactly?”

The innocent expression on Evelyn’s face could’ve earned an Oscar it was so earnest, but it still didn’t fool Ginny for one second. She waited until Evelyn broke. 

“Ugh, fine!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air for good measure. “There may or may not be a few—just a few!—worries about their husbands and boyfriends suddenly spending all this time with a pretty, single girl.” At Ginny’s outraged look, she hurried to continue, “I tried to tell them there was nothing to worry about—you’re not that cute.”

As intended, Ginny rolled her eyes, some of her annoyance draining away. Some, but nothing close to all. 

“What about my code?” she demanded. “Didn’t you tell them about that?”

“I tried, G,” Ev replied, gentle. “But since you never slept with my husband, despite your many chances, I’m apparently not a trustworthy source. Or I’m trying to keep your options open so you don’t move onto Blip? I’m honestly not sure what the thought process is.”

A few humorless chuckles escaped Ginny’s mouth. “Figures,” she muttered, tugging at her lip in frustration.

“You know why it’s gotta be you. It doesn’t matter what I or Amelia or even your teammates tell them. These women aren’t going to relax until they’ve assessed the threat for themselves.” 

“Threat? Ev, I’m just here to play ball!”

“You know that and I know that, but they don’t. Yet. But you come in and set their minds at ease, tell them how much worse sharing a clubhouse with 24 guys is than sharing a bathroom with your brother growing up, and they’ll realize that you have no interest and chill out.” 

Ginny sighed. Unfair as it was, she really did need the WAGs on her side. The more of them that liked her, the less chance there was of stupid, unfounded rumors spreading. Both around the clubhouse and into the league. The last thing she wanted was TMZ running gossip from “unnamed sources close to the team” about how she was blowing her teammates to make up for blowing a game. 

“Fine,” she agreed, reluctant but willing to admit her friend was right.

“It really won’t be that bad,” Evelyn smiled encouragingly. “Honestly, it’s only a couple who have said anything. And besides, I’ve seen you charm the chaps off a bar full of bikers, Ginny; a few WAGs should be no problem at all.”

She nodded in reply and tried not to think that she’d take that bar of leather-clad bikers any day.

They settled on a night that the guys had their own form of bonding. Even though Blip and even Lawson had told her to come along, Ginny declined. Even when Lawson raised one cocky eyebrow and asked, “Why? Hot date?” to goad her into admitting—what? That she planned on going back to her hotel room and pigging out on ice cream sundaes? Or that she really did have a date? 

Sometimes, she just didn’t get him. Which only made her want to know more.

“I guess if you think Evelyn is hot, then yeah,” she drawled, rolling her eyes. 

Mike’s eyes glazed over a bit at the thought, his jaw hanging open just wide enough to put his wad of gum on display. Ginny felt a flush crawling up her chest, embarrassed and maybe—just a little—intrigued at what was going through her captain���s mind right then. 

It wasn’t until Blip warned, “Think very carefully about how you answer, man,” that Mike snapped out of the daze. 

“Well, uh,” he practically stuttered, gaze flicking to Blip’s glowering face before it bounced away in a blink. At no point did he look anywhere near Ginny’s direction, but that just made it easier to see his ears burning a dull pink. “Out of all the happily married women in San Diego, you couldn’t do better, Baker.”

“Damn straight,” Blip muttered, though it was hard to make out over the force of Ginny’s guffaws.

God, they were easy.

Both men bore her laughter grumpily, sitting in nearly mirror images of each other at their respective lockers: feet braced against the ground, arms crossed over chests and frowns planted on their faces. Every time she looked at them, the urge to stop laughing died a quick death. Soon, other Padres were glancing over, even chuckling themselves, though Ginny was sure none of them really got the joke. 

Finally, having taken enough abuse, Mike pushed to his feet, rolling his eyes. He wandered off, probably to have Kiki realign his back so he could actually enjoy his boy’s night. 

Ginny watched him go, giggles finally fading away. 

It wasn’t until Blip cleared his throat that Ginny realized she’d been staring. As cooly as she could, she turned her attention to Blip. He watched her with an inscrutable expression on his face and she did her best not to fidget under the scrutiny.

Finally, he shook his head, spinning back towards his cubby. 

“Tell Ev I’m not bailing her ass out of jail if things get outta control tonight,” was all he said. 

Ginny remained rooted to the spot for a moment, sure he wasn’t going to let her off the hook this easily. But Blip didn’t turn back around and she wasn’t about to look this gift horse in its mouth. 

“Will do,” she replied, hoisting her backpack higher on her shoulders and beating a hasty retreat.

Slowly, but surely, Ginny was winning over the group of uncertainly suspicious women gathered in the Sanders house. It helped that Evelyn had been right, there really only a few women who’d actually been worried about what her presence on the team meant, maybe three or four out of the twelve Ev had invited. They were pretty easy to single out in the group of happy chatterers. 

So, while Ginny only had to win over a few, they were all curious about her. 

Intensely curious.

“So, Ginny,” smiled one of them. Lauren, she thought, though there was also a Laura somewhere around, too. “How are you settling in? It wasn’t too hard to leave El Paso behind, was it?”

She heard the insinuation behind the words. Did you leave a boyfriend behind? Still, Ginny smiled pleasantly and took a sip of the margarita Evelyn had pushed into her hand as soon as she walked in the door. Not the exact one, of course, this had to be her third. At least. 

“It’s an adjustment,” she replied truthfully. “Not just the city, but getting used to a new team, their weird, gross habits.”

An appreciative laugh went up around the group. 

“I’ve said it before, Ginny, and I’ll say it again,” Evelyn announced, “I don’t know how you put up with all of them at once. God knows I love Blip, but sometimes he’s such a dude.”

“It helps that I get my own dressing room, now,” Ginny allowed with a grin. 

“So you don’t—” that was Laura, though she cut herself off with a flush. Ginny knew what was coming next. Hell, Evelyn had asked her this exact question herself. She waited for Laura to get over her embarrassment and finish, “you don’t see anything?”

A few stray giggles went up around the gathering, but Ginny knew they’d all be hanging on her every word. 

This was it. This was where she set their minds at ease. Honestly, she was just relieved it hadn’t taken longer.

“God, no,” she answered, definitive and immediate.

“Never?”

“Not up here,” she replied, knowing that honesty would get her further than trying to seem entirely innocent. “I mean, down in the minors, I barely had a curtained off area to change in, but it’s not like I was looking, you know?”

“I told y’all,” Evelyn said, a little smug. “Ginny’s got a code.”

“Yep. Don’t date ballplayers.”

“Not even once?” That was Sandra, who, if Ginny remembered correctly, was dating Widener. She couldn’t blame the woman for being a little leery, having seen the third baseman in action. Still, she didn’t have to act like Ginny was the problem. 

“Well, there’s always a reason for a rule,” she hedged, hoping they would leave it alone. 

Thankfully, someone turned to the woman next to her, “That sounds like a rule you should have.”

“What can I say? I have a type!” the blonde—Jamie? Jenny? J-something-y.—giggled. Ginny thought she remembered her waiting for Hanan at the player’s entrance a few times. 

“Baseball player’s not a type, Jessie,” her friend sniffed. “I mean, how far apart can you get between Sam and Mike Lawson?”

“Lawson?” 

The name was out of Ginny’s mouth before she could stop it. 

“Oh, yeah,” Jessie replied with a shrug. “That was in his serious hound dog phase—and before I even met Sam. Believe it or not, he’s gotten way better than he used to be, right after the separation.”

Ginny nodded and was glad the conversation moved on. 

Mike’s reputation was no secret. Ginny had heard more than enough locker room talk to know that the man was no Boy Scout. And even though she vividly remembered the brunette who dropped him off before her first road trip, she’d never been confronted so… personally with the evidence of it. That was the only reason her stomach turned at this bit of information. That was the reason she felt like her lungs had shrunk, making it so hard to breathe.

It had nothing to do with the fact that when the guys talked about this stuff in the clubhouse, it was always accompanied by jeering and hoots of laughter. It had nothing to do that she could pretend it was all a joke.

It definitely didn’t have anything to do with the how it had to be a joke. Ginny didn’t want to consider the alternatives. 

That she was jealous of this woman. For getting that with Mike, even if she hadn’t been smart enough to hold onto him. 

Given a shot, Ginny wouldn’t make that same mistake.

A buzz in her pocket mercifully pulled her out of those thoughts. When she saw its sender, though, she rethought the meaning of mercy. 

MikeIvy’s on Vine

Her heart began galloping along in her chest, just at the sight of his name. (Which she now realized happened every time he called or texted, as had happened with surprising regularity since the All Star Game last week.) And with the slightest provocation, that galloping transformed into a veritable stampeded. The memory of his smile. The fact that he was inviting her out again. That he wanted her there.

For a million reasons, Ginny knew this wasn’t her shot. That her shot with Mike, if it ever came, if he ever ended up feeling anything for her, was way down the line. Certainly not within her first season in the majors, and probably not even her second or third, not until Mike was out of the game for good. And who knew how long that would take? 

But none of that stopped her from feeling like maybe, in spite of it all, it could be. 

A flush began to spread up her neck, and sucking down the last of her margarita did nothing to help. If anything, it just made her thoughts swirl faster, spinning right out of her head, out of the house even, and into the night. Zeroed in on one person. 

Oh, hell. 

What had she gotten herself into?

Eventually, after another two or three drinks and dishing out all the best gossip she had, Ginny’d succeeded in winning most of the WAGs to her side. More than a few of them won her over, too. Which was a good thing. She could always use more friends. 

Still, for the back half of the evening, most of her thoughts were occupied by one friend in particular. 

Which was why she didn’t direct her Uber back to the Omni, but rather Ivy’s on Vine. 

She was allowed entrance easily enough, even taking a selfie with the bouncer. 

Like he was North, and her eyes a compass needle, Ginny tracked down Mike within moments of stepping inside. 

He sat at the bar, though he faced out into the room, no doubt surveying his teammates and making sure no one was getting too rowdy. A beer bottle dangled between the fingertips of his free hand while the other arm propped him up. 

In no time, Ginny was slipping onto the stool next to his, though she couldn’t quite remember crossing the floor to get there. She knew Mike had seen her, though he waited until she’d ordered a beer of her own to say anything. 

“Girls night packed it in early?” he asked, taking a swig from his bottle.  

“Yeah,” she breathed, unwilling or unable to take her eyes off of him. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d seen his face, it was nearly as familiar as her own, but suddenly it was like she was looking at him with fresh eyes, or, at the very least, through a new lens. With new information she couldn’t deny any longer. The bob of his throat as he swallowed, the way he couldn’t quite keep his head from nodding along to the music, his eyes scanning the crowd, no doubt cataloguing the positions and status of each of their teammates: it was all suddenly so fascinating. 

How hadn’t she really realized before what she was feeling? This was no hero worship, no six-year-old crush. This was far more dangerous than that.

His attention slid back to her and he raised an eyebrow. “What?” he asked, “I got something on my face?”

It was on the tip of her tongue, this realization. Like it had a mind of its own, she wanted to blurt it out, get it out into the open, hating the way it crowded against her teeth like a mouthful of marbles. Fuck the consequences, she didn’t want to be the only one bearing this stupid, stupid feeling threatening to detonate her whole life.

Before she could, though, Mike’s eyes slid to the side. Just for a second, but long enough for Ginny to register the way his gaze trailed appreciatively over the pretty redhead making eyes at him from a nearby table. 

By the time he returned his attention to her, Ginny had beat back the tide of disappointment that had swelled up her throat, into her mouth. At least it washed away the words she’d nearly let spill. 

“Yeah,” she finally replied, fingers curling around her glass, “but I’m pretty sure a razor and some shaving cream will take care of it.”

He shook his head, despairing. “When are you gonna come around on the beard, Baker? This thing kills with the—”

“Okay, ew!” she laughed, hoping the churning of her gut didn’t show on her face. “If you finish that sentence with ‘ladies,’ I’m basically obligated to throw my drink on you.”

Mike laughed, too. “What if I was gonna say ‘fans?’”

“Ugh,” she groaned, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t know why, but that’s somehow worse.” 

 Her captain just shook his head, cheeks appling under the thick cover of his beard. “Don’t try and pretend you’re not my biggest fan, rookie,” he teased. Ginny froze for a moment, wondering if he somehow knew in spite of the fact that she hadn’t said anything. “I know all about your posters.”

She thawed, chuckling a little nervously. “Oh, it’s posters now? You’re really letting your imagination run wild, aren’t you?”

He nodded absently, but his attention was back on the redhead. She’d moved a table closer, talking to a guy there, but the way she was leaning, that put all her—very generous—cleavage on display. Pointed right in their direction. Well, in Mike’s direction. 

Ginny swallowed and clambered off her stool. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, just enough confusion in his voice to prod right at the ball of disappointment she’d swallowed down. 

“I’m calling it a night,” she replied, signaling the bartender for her check. As she paid, she couldn’t help but add, “Besides, I think there’s someone who wants your attention more than I do.”

When she finally brought herself to look at him, his eyes were narrowed. Ginny rolled hers and jerked her chin towards the woman, who was now watching them with open interest. 

Lawson frowned, “Baker, I’m—”

“Nah, go on,” she said, unwilling to know how that sentence was going to end. “Make a fan’s night.”

Before he could say anything else, Ginny was walking away. Not once did she give into the impulse to turn back and look. There was no scenario where she’d feel better by looking. Either he’d be wrapped up in that pretty, available woman or he wouldn’t. 

Ginny was fine not knowing. 

She just wished she could go back and not know some other things, too.