#trott's face 😂

[the-countdown-seconds-tick-by]

the hats vs. marmite

[biteofcherry]

Morning menace

alpha!Steve Rogers x omega female reader

warnings: none; unless we count early morning (basically night) rudeness

Author's Note: This is a short, silly thing inspired by my own "eagerness" to get up in the morning 😂 Shout out to the always amazing @buckets-and-trees, who often has to hear my grumpiness in the wee hours 😆

Grain of Truth Masterlist

Main Masterlist

There’s an annoying beeping sound that spears through the sweet, comfy clouds of slumber and you clench your eyelids shut harder, hoping that some bird of prey would swoop in and swallow that shrilling monster. 

Your pillow moves, adding to the growing annoyance as your subconsciousness tries the hardest to hold onto sleep. 

Finally, that irritating sound ceases, but your pillow continues to slip away. 

So you tighten your grip on it and move your leg further around the wide, hard breadth of it; clutching it both with your arm and your thighs. 

“Come on, babe,” a raspy, deeply masculine voice enters your sleep. 

The sound of it is very pleasant, making you hum in delight and snuggle into the warm pillow. Unfortunately, his words are far from what you want to hear.

“It’s time to get up.” 

“No.” Your reply comes instantly, your nose scrunching up in detestation. 

A low chuckle follows your refusal. Then an arm, which was cradling your back, moves along your spine. A big, strong hand gently grips the back of your neck; his thumb rubbing up and down. 

“I’m afraid it really is. We need to leave in an hour.” 

“No leaving. Staying. An’ sleepin’.” You grumble and though your eyes are still closed and your mind is keeping you halfway submerged in sleep, you recognize that the pillow you’re partially draped over is in fact your Alpha. 

To emphasize your stance on getting up, you roll your body fully on top of him. With a huff, you press your head under his chin and twine your limbs around his massive body. 

“I know you hate early mornings, Sweet Brat.” Steve laughs, palming your naked ass with his free hand. “But we’re about to go for vacation, if you remember. Two weeks away. And then you can sleep even till noon. But to get there, we agreed to leave early.” 

“I would never agree to such idiotic idea.” You protest, growing more annoyed as your sleep starts to truly fade away the longer you continue conversation with the very rude Alpha. 

Steve only snorts. Then attempts to move. To which you respond by clinging harder and giving a small, displeased whine. 

The way he instinctively gives a short purr to soothe you has your lips curving in a smile and your cheek pressing against his sternum. 

“Ten more minutes,” Steve sighs. “I’ll start a breakfast for us. But not a second longer, grumpy brat.”

You whine again, more petulantly this time, as Steve manages to gently roll away from under you. Your body sinks into the warm spot on the mattress that’s soaked with your mate’s scent. 

You instantly bury your nose into it, your body dropping back into a fully relaxed state, so eager to trott back into the dreamland. 

“What kind of vacation requires getting up at this ungodly hour? I don’t want a vacation like that.” You try to reach for the covers, but they seem to be too far away. You’d have to open your eyes to find them, but you really don’t want to. 

“I’d rather stay here. In bed. And rot.” You mumble into the sheets. “You go on stupid early vacation yourself.” 

“You’re worse than Bucky.” Steve gives an exasperated sigh. “And he’s really insufferable before 9AM.” 

Giving a little kick with your leg, you turn your face to the other side and reach for a pillow to cover your head with. In case your bossy Alpha decided to lift the blinds and scorch you with morning sun. 

Though you were pretty sure there was no sun yet on the horizon. There couldn’t be. It was too fucking early! It was basically still night.

“Then maybe go on this mid-night vacation yourself and send Bucky here to me. We’ll be grumpy together and sleep like normal people do.”  

You shriek aloud, your eyes opening instantly, when a brutal sting burns your asscheek. Then another one lands, on the other side of your butt. 

Before you get a chance to react to the spanking, Steve grips your ankles and pulls you across the mattress in one, swift move. Your legs dangle over the edge of the bed, feet kicking above the floor. Then strong hands are gripping your hips and you’re lifted into the air. 

Steve turns you in his arms, with the skill of a man who’s done that plenty of times, so you’re facing him. It’s body memory, or whatever cognitive reaction, to wrap your legs around his hips as he carries you. 

The light in the bathroom turns on, causing your eyes to squint in protest. With another huff, you hide your face in the crook of Steve’s neck. He really smells good in the morning. Damn  him! 

He eases you down, until your feet touch the tiled floor. He cups your chin and tilts your head up.

“You have fifteen minutes to get ready, Sweet Brat. And if you even try to sneak back into bed, I’ll make sure that sitting through the few hours drive is going to be a real pain in your cute ass.” 

You scowl at him, but either your sleepy, straight-out-of-bed look doesn’t help with the murderous effect, or your Alpha simply isn’t bothered by your non-verbal threats. 

Quite the opposite, he flashes you a bright smile. Then, still holding your chin in his hand, he seals a short, but rather intense kiss on your lips. 

You watch him leave, still glaring. And maybe - but only a tiny bit - ogling. 

“Next year I’m gonna opt for staycation,” you mutter under your breath.

[ghostgirl19posts]

Falling in Glove with You, part 5

This was inspired by the aftermath of my favorite ejection which you can watch here. In my opinion, it’s the funniest moment in baseball history and no one can change my mind 😂 

Also, Bludo’s freak out was inspired by one of Billy Martin’s, which you can find here. 

Summary: In which Bludo devises a genius scheme and Link can’t help but laugh

Rating: T (contains some cursing)

...

This umpire is stupid.

Link watched the scene unfold from his place on the bench in the dugout. He screwed his mouth shut into a scowl, letting anyone who looked at him know how he felt about the whole thing without him having to say it and risk getting ejected.

It was a routine grounder. Trott, in spite of his name, was running as fast as he could to first base. He’s the kind of player that always hustles no matter what, a quality that a lot of other ballplayers should emulate.

He ended up beating the throw to first and everyone in the Knights dugout cheered and starting clapping, naturally believing him to be safe. However, their enthusiasm was dashed to bits when the first base umpire declared that Trott was out, citing that he ran outside of the base line.

Bludo, team manager, went ballistic. Understandable, given that it was the bottom of the seventh and they were trailing by two runs. Time was running out for scoring opportunities. He ran out of the dugout in a speed Link didn’t think the stout man was capable of, shoving Trott out of the way who was trying to plead his case to get in the umpire’s face.

After about 2.5 seconds of Bludo’s enraged screaming, the umpire had enough and threw his arm in the classic motion of an ejection. This only seemed to encourage Bludo; since he was already ejected, why not get his rupees’ worth?

He yelled until he was red in the face, cursing up a storm with perfect mouth movements that Link knew the announcers would have trouble explaining to the viewers at home. Bludo pointed at the umpire’s face, screamed some more, and then took a few steps back. Not to retreat of course, oh no. He simply needed room to kick a cloud of the infield dirt onto the umpire’s once pristinely shined, black shoes.

The fans went wild, absolutely loving it. A manager getting ejected always makes for good entertainment, no matter which team they’re rooting for. And when that manager decides to put on a show? Pure comedy.

Bludo had his leg reared back, ready to kick some more dirt at the umpire, but when he heaved his leg forward he suddenly froze in his tracks. His eyes and nose scrunched up in familiar agony, his teeth bared in a pained hiss. His body was twisted in an odd angle, arms frozen in the air and fingers twitching.

Uh oh.

Bludo abruptly lurched forward, his right hand going to the small of his back in an effort to support it. He glared up at the umpire, eyes crackling with malice.

“Now, look what you did! You made me throw my back out!”

The umpire leaned his head back and rolled his eyes, said something Link couldn’t hear—but if he had to guess he’d say the umpire was defending himself against the unjust accusation—then finally backed up as the other umpires began to surround Bludo, hopefully trying to placate him. Whatever they said must have worked, because soon enough his manager was hobbling back to the dugout.

The third base umpire escorted him there, gently touching the older man’s elbow. Assisting him, but not quite assisting him, wary of setting him off again.

He threw off the umpire’s arm the moment his foot touched the first dugout step. Link had to admit he felt a little bad for the guy for having his help thrown back in his face, whether it was wanted or not.

Bludo paused to hand the lineup card to the bench coach before making himself scarce. Link could hear his grumbling about back medication up until he got to the clubhouse at the end of the tunnel.

The first base umpire shook off the dirt on his shoes, the others retook their positions, the next batter stepped into the box, and the game commenced.

…

Although, it would appear that it would not be without antics.

It’s the bottom of the eighth and they’re still down a run, although there are men on first and second. On the other hand, there are two outs, and the guy who hasn’t had a hit all night is due up at the plate. Link has faith in his teammates, but he can’t deny that he’s nervous.

Suddenly, Fin’s head whips back towards the corner of the dugout. His eager smile abruptly dips into a disappointed frown, his shoulders rising and lowering as he heaves a sigh. Then, resigned to the order and powerless to stop it, he hefts his bat over his shoulder and turns around. Russ passes him up the stairs on the way to take his place in the batter’s box.

The announcer telling the fans that Russ is pinch-hitting for Fin falls on deaf ears for Link. He’s leaning forward in his seat, head craned to peer at the corner that Fin was looking at. His eyes narrow, suspicion filling the blue depths.

He’s not easily visible with the bench coach and pitching coach flanking him on both sides, but if Link leans back and lifts his chin, he can get a good angle on the guy’s face. He towers over both men, although he appears to be hunched over a bit. His face has some wrinkles, showing his age, but the twin eyepatches covering his eyes distract from them and-

Wait.

Link squints his eyes, scrutinizing the sketchy man, unable to believe his initial deduction of his identity. But no. He may be wearing a different shirt, sporting a cap with a picture of a volcano on it, and have the ingenuity to put on a fake mustache, but the double eyepatches give him away.

It’s undeniably, without a doubt, Bludo.

Bludo, who is supposed to be in the clubhouse right now because he got ejected. Watching the game on the TV and cursing that umpire while nursing his bad back. Not coaching from the sidelines wearing a cheap disguise and using his bench and pitching coaches for cover.

Link can’t help but smile open-mouthed in amazement at the audacity and hilarity of it all. Does Bludo really think this trick will work? Anyone can tell it’s him after getting a good look; someone is bound to notice sooner or later. Nothing can prevent that, not even by changing shirts and-

…Are those eye black strips he’s using for the fake mustache?!

Link ducks his head and lifts his jersey up over it to hide his uncontrollable laughter. A manager going incognito after getting ejected…he’s never seen anything like it. Has this ever happened before? Baseball has seen plenty of odd occurrences…but this is something else.

Once Link has sufficiently calmed down, he picks up his head again, letting the neck of his jersey fall back in its rightful place. Unable to resist, his gaze slides over past the few other teammates on the bench to look at Bludo. His teeth sink into his lower lip, fighting back another round of laughter upon getting a good view of the disguise again.

He can’t believe it’s working so far. How has he not been caught yet? Are there any cameras trained on him? Have the TV announcers figured out what’s going on?

Link discreetly glances around, but he can’t see any cameras aimed in their direction. Coming up empty, he returns his attention back to his manager, but he has to rip his head away when Bludo, blinded by the eyepatches, steps forward and almost knocks over the bench coach.

His other teammates are persevering with their forcibly tight scowls. Everyone has caught on to Bludo’s scheme by now, but none of them want to be the man that gives the ruse away by outwardly laughing.

They’re pointedly staring straight ahead of them, and Link turns to follow their example. The amusement may still be evident on his face, but luckily (or unluckily) it vanishes when Russ swings and completely misses the ball.

That’s strike three, and with that, three outs, thus kissing their scoring opportunity good-bye.

“Dammit!”

Everyone freezes.

The loud, booming curse echoes out of the dugout. It’s unmistakably Bludo’s voice. Anyone who has heard him talk before can tell it’s him, especially after you’ve been screamed at nonstop for five minutes by the same voice…

“Bludo!”

The first base umpire is glaring into the dugout, a furious glower on his face. His eyes immediately zero in on Bludo huddled in the corner, not fooled by the pathetic attempt of a disguise at all.

“Get outta here, Bludo, you’re done!” he yells again, pointing right at the manager’s nose. “The league will hear about this!”

“Ah, fuck you!” Bludo snaps back, throwing his arm over his shoulder. For a moment, Link thinks there’s going to be a standoff. It wouldn’t surprise him if it comes down to that; Bludo is as stubborn as a mule and possesses the temper of a lynel when crossed.  

However, to his shock, Bludo does what the umpire demands, and retreats back into the tunnel. Maybe the promise of getting the league involved is what prompted Bludo to finally listen. This stunt alone will probably net him a hefty fine and definitely a suspended game or two. He’d likely rather take that than accrue a more serious punishment by refusing to leave a second time when ordered.

Link can’t help but grin in spite of watching the bench, pitching, and hitting coaches be thrown out as well for being accomplices. Pipit, team captain and the only one left that has any authority in the dugout, readily takes the lineup card and is probably already devising a strategy to win the game.

Hopefully Bludo is watching and will be proud…and hopefully the league will have a sense of humor and have a little mercy when doling out his punishment.

…

They won by the skin of their teeth. Their man on third scored in the bottom of the ninth on a wild pitch with two outs. Kind of a cheap way to win, but Link will take it.

In the locker room, he’s in the midst of zipping up his jeans when he hears his slate chime inside his bag. Taking it out, he smiles upon seeing Zelda’s name and her picture on the screen.

He doesn’t even get the chance to say hello before his ear is filled with her cackling.

“Did you see it?! After Bludo got ejected he came back in disguise!”

Link shakes his head, chuckling. Welp, looks like there was a camera panned on them after all. He can only imagine how the announcers reacted. He’ll have to catch the repeat of the game on TV when he goes home.

“Where did he get the fake mustache?!”

...

Sorry, not much Zelink here. But I hope you enjoyed anyway and got a good laugh ;)

[the-countdown-seconds-tick-by]

T: “this is a very wet staircase because, you can see above smith’s head, that used to be a bin liner there, it got filled up like a balloon....and exploded.”

[the-countdown-seconds-tick-by]

[unintelligible]. 

[the-countdown-seconds-tick-by]

“oh my god, where the....fuck have i gone?”