#steve mc

[the-pyooster]

steed and ax :)

[glitchedlad-art]

•°. *࿐ momento mori ignore how fucked up the flowers are btw

[minecraft-meep-edition]

steve, alex, matt, and bonnie

[r0tt3nc0rps]

the fact that the new minecraft trailer genuinely put this in with steve yearning for the mines is so fucking funny and i like the movie like .71 percent more

[ozzyeelz]

Happy yaoi day for those who celebrate…

[the-barefoot-hatter]

pediatricians are hard to find.

you aren't broken and other important things a triangle needs to hear

[rizzager]

The miner, the adventurer, and the H̴͓͓͒̔͝e̶̦̅̓r̶͔̱̲̀o̷̲̖̹͌͋̓

[sleepysheepytea]

Random lil thing my hand did

I’m sick and i was in bed all day with nothing to do so i drew a bunch of doodles in my sketchbook of Steve and Alex and giving them my own headcanons/lil touches

And ofc it made me want to draw tks HEHEe

[dabiconcordia]

"Strangers are just friends waiting to happen." ― Rob McKuen

[seazico]

What I'm more concerned about, rather than the nosebleed, is...

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[struck-by-the-rain]

fuck it making my own post about this but when these screenshots of the minecraft movie came up on my dash i unironically thought they some fuckass ai shitposts or smth??? what the hell?? i swear to god.

[tellioari-misc]

just enjoying absolute cinema

[wilmvandrr]

day 9: childhood video game ft. Steve (mc)

[ronearoundblindly]

Hideout (Interlude)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!reader (see series)

Written for @whiskeytangofoxtrot555's birthday from her premise ask 💜 but also serves as a wee prezzie for @blogbog710, @targaryenvampireslayer, @navybrat817, and (belatedly) the lovely @ellethespaceunicorn! (What the heck is in the water?? So many bdays I didn't know about!)

Summary: Your birthday ritual is interrupted.

*You do not need to know anything about this series to enjoy this blurb.* Warnings for suggestive eating, a sweet kiss (literally), cuddling in minimal clothing, but otherwise, just fluff and feels! WC 1.2k

Of course, you don’t always do this. Sometimes you’re out with friends. Sometimes your parents make a huge deal out of late dinner. Sometimes you draw the short straw and have to work the front desk, but not tonight.

The searing red of the digital clock counts down for you (or up depending on how you look at it). Soon—very soon—it will be midnight, and you can wish yourself the first ‘happy birthday.’ To some that might seem sad, but it’s become a ritual of you putting yourself first. Birthday parties may be for children but celebrating YOU should never go out of style.

The red flickers. New numbers. New you. Older, wiser, and alive. It’s a beautiful thing.

Your eyelids fall heavy after your long soak in the tub, the lingering scent of the bubblebath still warm on your skin. You’re content and tired. You hum as a smile tugs the corners of your mouth.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Why you aren’t startled is a hope you don't admit aloud, a greedy, gluttonous vice that piles on to a reality you cannot share with a single living soul except…

Steve Rogers, the fugitive Captain America, crouches outside your window, nimble and stealthy, having climbed to the slant of roof without you noticing.

But you wished for him. You always wish for him to come back.

Your smile grows as you slide off the edge of your bed and press your hand to the pane of glass. He mirrors the gesture, unhurried, soft. It’s just a moment more before you lift the latches and invite him in.

Whispers of ‘hey’ are exchanged while Steve crawls through, but he only answers your surprised “what are you doing here?” with a kiss to your forehead and a long hug.

You taught him how to hug like that. He's taken it to another level as anxiety melts out of you faster than it did in the bath.

His warm skin smells of pine and leather, likely from wearing his decrepit Cap suit to sneak around the woods behind your house. It fits his mountain-man vibe these days--full beard, hair curling beneath his ears, desperate loneliness he uses you to brighten.

You're not sure Steve comprehends how much light he brings to your life in return, but you soak up what you can.

He stands tall, still grinning, and drops a small, structured backpack to the floor. From it he pulls a pastry box, a little pack of candles, and a lighter. He goes through the entire process of preparing your cupcake in his palm before stretching out his hand.

The tiny, flickering flame shimmers in his twilight eyes.

“Happy birthday, Tops.”

As you gently take your treat, it occurs to you that you’ve never told Steve Rogers your birthday. 

“How did you know?”

Technically, the question is casual, but you’re still curious.

His eyebrows shoot up, dramatic and comical shadows cast across his handsome features.

“Well, see, in my…position—” Wax drips onto the towering icing while Steve rubs his neck, guilty and avoiding your eyes. “I have to take certain…precautions, and I was just—” 

“Did you look me up? Online? Do some research, huh? Check up on me?” 

You’re teasing him, but it is fun to see the huge man kneeling at your bedside squirm. His blush is crimson in the candlelight.

You poke his burly shoulder. “You were checkin’ me out…”

“It’s not like that,” he whispers. “Anyway, make a wish, birthday girl.” Steve pushes the cupcake higher in your hold, encouraging you with a wry smile.

Your breath is swift and precise, your desire so clear at the forefront of your mind that picking a wish—another wish, since he’s already here—takes no time at all.

Steve maneuvers himself to sit up on your bed, pulling you to into his lap.

“Good surprise?”

“The best,” you whisper.

You remove the candle and hold the bottom to Steve’s lips. “Lick.”

He sucks off the icing slowly, keeping his eyes locked with yours.

You playfully run your finger through the frosting and taste it, too. If you ever told him your favorite cake flavor, you can’t remember that either, but he clearly knows.

“Tasty?” he asks, a swipe of his tongue wetting his lips.

“Uh-huh.”

You take another dollop and offer your finger to him.

He chuckles. “It’s all yours. I’m not fond of super-sweet things.”

“Oh?” You let the whipped, buttery sugar dissolve in your mouth, thinking. “You’re fond of me, so…are you saying I’m not sweet?”

Your concern is overly dramatic, but Steve stares, biting his bottom lip. “No.”

“Then what do I add to the flavor?” You pull down a corner of crimped paper to try the cake itself. He’s still pondering when you clean lingering stickiness off your thumb.

“Clarity,” Steve finally says. “You offer clarity in a very blurry life.”

His hand on your back shifts to cradle your head, bringing you closer until you’re captured in an intense but chaste kiss. He cups your cheek in his other palm and licks across your sweet lips until you open for him. Steve devours you like you are the real treat, uncaring if his offering splats on the floor. It’s not on fire anymore, so who cares?

Something else occurs to you, jolting you to break away.

“How long can you stay?”

Steve pets down his beard, restarting his brain. “Till morning, I guess, but then I should go. I don’t want to ruin any of your other plans.”

Unbidden, you inhale swiftly and are overtaken by a yawn.

He’s wildly amused by that. “Tired, Tops?”

“No,” you lie, feeling another one coming on. “If I eat the rest of this, I’ll have energy.”

“Or—“ Steve plucks the confection away before you can slam it in two bites flat “—you can finish this for breakfast and get some sleep.”

You whine in protest because every minute you sleep is a minute with him wasted. He senses exactly that.

“I promise to stay right here all night. Come on. Get comfy.”

He repackages your cupcake to keep it fresh while you crawl into bed. You’ve never seen Steve have to remove his suit, and to watch, it looks tedious and involved.

“Took a second to master, I tell ya,” he mutters once the top is off.

Another minute and he’s shuffling under the covers beside you, aligning his body to snuggle yours, keeping you facing him.

Again his hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin gently. He’s purposefully lulling you, placing the most delicate kisses over your forehead, his beard tickling your nose and making it scrunch up.

“Sorry,” he breathes.

You tilt upwards to steal the apology right from his lips. Usually, your time together is dictated by his needs, even if he doesn’t ask for the attention. It’s uplifting to have no worry of caring for him explicitly. This is just you with him, zero pressure, tons of love, nothing between.

“Hey, Steve?”

You wait for the deep rumble of a hum from his chest

“Thank you. I don’t think I ever said that.”

He smiles against your mouth, breaking away with a swift double peck.

“My pleasure, sweetheart.” He pulls you flush to his chest, sighing happily when you toss your leg over his hip. “Happy birthday,” Steve whispers into your hair. “Thank you for letting me in.”

You fall asleep with him everywhere, in your arms, in your lungs, and in your heart. Your wish is that he never leaves, and for tonight, he’s doing the best he can to make your every wish come true.

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries 

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

@mrsevans90 @lemonadygirl @umadirectioner @mrschandlerbing @as-white-as-snow-love

[buggee22]

herobrine has been occupying a lot of brain space as of late so i had to draw him to keep me sane!

+a less red & less crunchy alt