why not

[americanleaguer]

I'm working on two different fics right now, and I'm not happy with either one of them. I was sort of feeling one, but I had to stop working on it for a while due to Real Life Work and various holiday shenanigans, and now I've lost it. Don't you hate it when that happens? Now I'll probably get frustrated trying to recapture it, and I'll have to

Comments

[lastcatastrophe]

Soooo freaking aggravating. I was all pumped to write this long story, then I got drunk and told friends about it, and now I'm like... totally blanking. I've written four different starts and it's just not. clicking. sigh.

As for the prompt...

Eric Chavez, mirages.

deleted and reposted for FUCKING TYPOS

[americanleaguer]

It's extra annoying because if I had been able to just keep working on it, I probably could have banged out most of it in one go. But of course real life prevents that. Why do I have a life again?

---

His least favorite place to play, come July, is Texas. The heat in Arlington is so intense that it's like a kick in the face when he leaves the air conditioned clubhouse, and when he squints out at the field, all he can see are heat lines shimmering off the stands, warping the people there in ripples and waves. It wreaks total havoc with his eyes. If he's not careful, it'll fuck up his ability to field the ball cleanly.

Sometimes if he's unwary he'll glance at the mound and see Zito there, thin and translucent, green and gold and white like he never left. Never when he's staring right at the mound; this is strictly a corner-of-the-eye phenomenon. He knows it's just a heat mirage, a trick of the weather and his unconscious mind, but it still socks him in the gut every time.

He really hates Texas.

Re: deleted and reposted for FUCKING TYPOS

[lastcatastrophe]

<3<3<3 hurts so good.

[littlestclouds]

I was sort of feeling one, but I had to stop working on it for a while due to Real Life Work and various holiday shenanigans, and now I've lost it. Don't you hate it when that happens? Now I'll probably get frustrated trying to recapture it, and I'll have to scrap the entire thing and just start over.

That happens to me all. the. time. Ugh. Although, well, not recently since I've been working on rpf_big_bang pretty much exclusively since April . . .

Throwing out all of these in the hopes one (or more) sticks:

Max Scherzer/? + outlier
Max Scherzer/Justin Verlander + summer
Brennan Boesch + grace
Austin Jackson/Brennan Boesch + dynamic
Miguel Cabrera/Brennan Boesch + faith
Phil Coke(/?) + tree
Phil Coke(/?) + water
Armando Galarraga + luck
Armando Galarraga/Alex Avila + perfect

[americanleaguer]

When he was a kid, summertime was all about the return of a chance to put on his brown leather glove, the one he kept under his mattress all winter so that it would be extra-broken-in. Some of the guys played every position and were batters in Little League, but Justin never was-- he was always a pitcher, fastballs as much a part of him as his skin, the blood in his veins.

In the dugout now, he likes to sit on Scherzer's left. That's the side with the brown eye. It's a hell of a weird thing to notice, but that eye is precisely the color of Justin's old Little League glove. Sitting there, casting glances at Scherzer all game long, it doesn't matter how cold Comerica is in April, how rainy it gets in the midsummer thunderstorms. He's got his summer.

[littlestclouds]

Oh, I love that! I wouldn't mind seeing more of this Justin from you at a later date, hint hint. :P

[americanleaguer]

I need to get unstuck on at least one of these other things first. Grrr.

[tangleofthorns]

Billy Beane, meditation.

[americanleaguer]

His fingers down Chavez's side render his mind blank in a way that all the drugs and booze in the world could never quite manage. Lord knows he's tried. If there's a substance he's tasted it; if there's a hotline he's called it, using a fake name; if there's a book on tape, it's been in his car.

His tongue pressed flat to the dip of Chavez's throat calms his ever-jangling nerves. He's always on edge these days, tiny jitters in his extremities, but the warm salt taste of Chavez sends some signal down his nervous system, settle on down, quiet, quiet.

His knee pressed to the center of Chavez's back takes him right out of the timestream. The first push into Chavez brings him cleanly back. And when it's all over, when he's gone as high as he can and dragged Chavez up there with him only to throw the both of them off a cliff, tangled together--

After all that, why, then he's ready to face another day.

[tangleofthorns]

aww, crazy billy.

[americanleaguer]

It's why he needs to meditate!

[owllover711]

Brandon Inge, habits.

[americanleaguer]

Every Tuesday, when they're playing, he has to have an ice cream cone by 4 pm. Doesn't matter what flavor, although he usually goes for something minty or chocolate-chip-y. None of that fruit shit. And it doesn't matter how cold it is outside, how wet and raw and awful Detroit may be early and late in the season. He's got to have it. It's just one of those things.

When he's in the field, he's got to adjust his cup between every pitch. Sometimes just a quick tap to make sure everything's aligned, if the pitcher is working quickly. Sometimes a full grab-n-shuffle, for the slower guys. Half the time he doesn't even notice he's doing it anymore.

Every time he gets ready to head out of the clubhouse, minutes before the anthem, he pulls his socks up, cuffs his pants at the knees. When he's not hitting very well (which happens-- hey, he's not Miguel Cabrera, ok), Laird teases him gently about it. Don't you wanna try mixin' it up? Maybe pants down, just for this game? But Brandon can't even imagine it. He practices with his

[owllover711]

:-D :-D :-D

LOVE. You captured everything I love about Inge. LOVE IT.

[littlestclouds]

I love this view of Inge!