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astroboots · 1 month
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"Kiss me again" is absolutely EVERYTHING to me. I want Marc to be happy and spoiled and treated well and the way you wrote that is just so !!!!!!!!
I loved Love Bites and this follow-up exceeded my wildest dreams... I am also very curious about whether this means Steven in this universe now knows about Marc and everyone is cool with each other??? Also did Steven explicitly ask for the lipstick marks (and if so what was that conversation like do you think? 👀)
Thank you again for blessing us with the deliciousness that is your writing
Aaaah thank you baby!!! I'm so glad you liked it.
So this one shot is set post red flags where Steven knows about Marc 🥰
And yes Steven has definitely got his own thing for lipstick marks which you can read here in cherry lips
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astroboots · 1 month
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I recently reread EYEM again and Cici!!! I thought I would be fine, I’ve been here before. Nope, full on ugly crying. 😭 How does it feel to be sososo ridiculous talented? 😭😭 Do you have any future plans for one shots with Cielito? I hope she’s eating all the donuts in whatever universe she is. 🥺
Hello lovely 🥹😊☺️😍😍🥰
Thank you so much for this kind comment it made me smile so wide when I read it. I do have future plans for cielito and Miguel I just need to find some free time firstly 🤣🤣🤣🤣 hope to be able to share with you a few fun epilogue stories of what happens after when I do.
Of her and miggy in nueva York where there is no junk food (or donuts, gaaaasp)
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astroboots · 2 months
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Immediately upon finding this on Etsy, my brain went, “Hamsteven says gay rights!” Lol! Tho, can you imagine how cute it would be to see him holding/posing with random tiny things in your flat? 🥹🥹😭😭
I can't see the Etsy link but I'm loving hamsteven says gay rights regardless 🤣🤣🤣
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astroboots · 2 months
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haaiiii!!!! i read ur fic 'every you every me' on ao3 and i think it literally changed my life😭 i love ur writing sososoooo much...do you have anything for miguel coming up??!?! anyway just wanted to pop in and say i am in love with ur fics sm, hope u have a fantastic week ahead!!!!!! <3
Helloooo lovely thank you so much for this wonderful ask!!! While there's a few things languishing in the WIP folder atmim.having a crazy busy time at work due to an unexpected promotion, but fingers crossed we'll see what I can do.
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astroboots · 2 months
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omg Cici I had my first boxing class today just for funsies and it was literally the most fun I've had in a workout (I HAAAAATE HIIT workouts and I loved this) and I am now back on the Miguel Punch Out Love train. I see what the hype is about. Can't wait for the follow up!
Aaah that sounds so much fun I just joined classpass and am hoping to get better myself and get a fun class to join next week!!
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astroboots · 2 months
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Welcome back and happy new year 🥳
I have a request/headcannon slash whatever you want to do with it but I just need to get it out of my head.
Miguel x Jobu Tupaki Reader, just think about it it’s like an unstoppable force meets and immovable object. he obviously wants to control the multiverse and the reader just doesn’t care because it’s all random and nothing matters.
I just think the tension is where it’s allllll at.
Omg hai lovely thank you so much for sending this ask in. It sent me and twp into a frenzy!!! And we were up all night talking about ideas. It's such an insanely fun and good idea especially because EEAAO is a huge inspiration for eyem. Thank you for sharing there's now a new doc in my WIP folder.
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astroboots · 2 months
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Kiss Me Again
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CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS
Summary: You discover that Marc has a thing for lipstick
Content: Marc blushing -- Oh mai, domestic shenanigans, lotsa yearning, creampie, explicit sex babeh.
Credit: Inspired form Leslie's gorgeous Love Mark series and in particular this beautiful image. Part of the @moonknight-events Bingo scorecard Challenge: Morning After.
Word count: 3.5k
ASTROBOOT’S MASTERLIST | THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMS’ MASTERLIST |MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST
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There is something about waking up in the morning to the sight of Marc standing in the kitchen.
The sight of that wide back turned to you. His firm shoulders fill out that t-shirt oh-so-perfectly, and you can make out the rounded curve of his bum practically bursting out of his jeans. The familiar rigid stiffness that is stitched into every nook and cranny of his frame while he's standing in front of the stove cooking you breakfast.
It's Sunday today, which means the familiar warm and breadlike smell of pancakes permeates the attic flat. It also means that Marc has let you sleep in.
God, what time is it?
Judging from the brightness of the sun, blinding your eyes, he must've let you sleep in late.
You glance at your wristwatch on the bedside table, squinting your eyes to make out the time.
Fuck! Eleven Twenty-Seven?!?!
You grumble, dragging yourself out of bed, grabbing the neatly folded clothes next to you and pulling them on haphazardly. "Why didn't you wake me? It's nearly noon."
Marc is unmoved by your accusatory tone. He flips the pan with a flashy move, flinging the pancake into the air before catching it with ease, right back into the pan.
"You were tired from last night."
He doesn't turn around, but you don’t need to catch the expression on his face when you can hear the playful smirk in his voice.
And he's not wrong. Marc did wear you out last night. The soreness between your thighs as you're making your way to him would prove as much. As does the state of the bed and its rumpled sheets.
You're practically hobbling your way to the kitchen when you  finally manage to join him and perch yourself on a stool near the counter.
From the corner of your eye, Marc turns ever so slightly until you finally catch the amused wry quirk of his lips in person.
"What?"
He doesn't answer you. Just slides the pancake onto a plate, pouring in more batter into the pan, before he brings your plate over to you. Then he looks at you with that same amused expression.
"What is it?" you ask again. Have you suddenly grown horns on your head? Why is he looking at you like that.
Your confusion only adds to his amusement. A huff (that is borderline a laugh) escapes him as he looks at you with a fond expression.
"You're a mess."
Wow. Rude.
You shake your head, your boyfriend never was known for his manners... This boyfriend at least. Steven has the manners of an angelic saint.
Scanning the space, you spot your handbag that's conveniently sitting on the counter and reach for the small pocket mirror, flicking it open.
A deranged Alice Cooper impersonator looks back at you. Mascara running halfway down your face.
Shit.
Okay, Marc might have a point. Your hair looks like a runaway freight train blazed through it, mascara has run halfway down your face, and your lipstick is smeared all over, vivid red splotches and smears dotting your chin and cheeks. How did you even manage that?
You grab a wad of face wipes to take care of the worst of it. Then you glance back up at Marc. He is in considerably much better shape than you are. Hair combed back, already dressed in his regular t-shirt, with his grey jacket and fitted jeans like it's his designated uniform.
That's Marc for you. Unfazed. Un-rumpled. Untouchable. 
Your Mr. Tidy, who needs everything to be in its proper place, no matter the time and place. It leaves you craving to achieve the unachievable, to make a mess of him.
Always put together. Always in control. Always has the upper hand on you.
Well… Your eyes drift to his honed cheeks and you can't help but grin at the sight. Almost always.
Today, there's a chink in his tidy armour. A red smear on his throat, matching the ones you just removed from your own face. Unsurprising perhaps, given the way you mauled this throat last night.
"You're a mess too," you counter.
He tilts his head questioningly, and you flip the mirror back at him to let him see the damage. 
You expect him to frown. Expect him to grumble and reach for a wipe or scrub off the offending mess with the back of his hand. 
Marc does none of that. Instead he freezes, eyes growing wide as he just stares into your pocket mirror. 
You don't know how long he just stays like that, frozen in place, and you can practically see the little spinning wheel icon indicating that he brain has stalled out over this new input. It’s fascinating. You have half a mind to just leave him be, curious to see how long it takes his mind to reboot, but then you smell something off in the kitchen. Burnt, like smoke.
"Uhm, Marc? I think... the pancakes are burning."
That snaps him right out of it. 
"Shit!" 
He leaps into action. In a split of a second, Marc is back at the stove, yanking the offending pan off the heat. He seems a bit off kilter, grumbling to himself as he carries the whole thing to the bin and starts scraping the burnt remains of charcoal pancake off. 
The whole scene takes you aback. You don't think you've ever seen Marc just freeze like that. What could have happened?
Was it the mirror? Mirrors serve as a neat conduit for communication between the boys. Perhaps Steven or Jake said something that distracted him? 
You watch as he moves back to the sink without so much as a glance in your direction.  Hoping for some insight you hop off the stool and walk up next to Marc, but he stiffens unexpectedly at your presence, ducking his face towards the sink, and avoiding your gaze.
Something is off with him. Something is definitely wrong... and-- 
You don’t see it at first. His head is tilted down, casting a shadow over his cheeks, but you think you see… 
Wait wait wait. Is Marc... blushing? 
You lean in closer, peering over his shoulder to stare at his face. 
"This is distracting. I'm trying to clean," he mutters, tilting his face away from you.
Oh wow!
He is! 
Marc is blushing! 
Your veins buzz at the revelation. You're so excited by this new development, you don't even connect the dots at first.
He's blushing! Why is he blushing? God knows!
But it’s adorable! You need to know how to make this happen again.
Mirror. You need to get the mirror– Or wait, no. That doesn't make any sense does it? It's not the mirror that made him blush, why would it?
You retrace your step. Not the mirror, must've been something he saw in the mirror. It could have been something Steven or Jake said, but…
You think back to the night before. The way Marc’s dark eyes had gone darker, deep and bottomless, as he watched you get ready to go out. The way his eyes never left your face as you talked, always circling back to… your lips.
Excited to test your new theory, you leave Marc at the sink and head for the corner of the counter where you left your bag, fishing around until you can locate the tube of lipstick. 
Yanking off the cap, you nearly end up mashing the red tip with how hard you press it on your lips. That done, you recap the tube and drop it back into the depths of your handbag, and rejoin Marc at the stove where he’s already poured another round of batter into the newly cleaned pan.
He's not looking up at you, eyes glued to the bubbling forming on the half-cooked pancake with strained concentration. But you bet you can change that now that you know what you know.
You tip-toe forward, reaching up to press your lips square centre on his cheek. You keep the contact soft and brief. Just enough pressure that you can make sure you've marked him in red with the shape of your lips.
Marc freezes again bound in shock. His eyes are so startlingly wide, for a moment you could almost mistake him for Steven.
Bingo.
You're grinning so widely it almost physically hurts. "Sorry, I think I got some lipstick on you."
He doesn't respond. If you didn't know better you'd think you'd turn him into stone with that small kiss. But you can see the way his fingers are wrapped so tight around the handle of the pan, the cast iron could crumble from the pressure. 
Oh my, this is fun.
Leaning up you do it again. Pressing your lips to his cheek again, inches from where you had before, just as soft. Just as brief, and watch the red mark join the other one.
Marc tenses up all over again. Slowly but surely, you see that gorgeous crimson spread across his cheeks. It's a fascinating sight. And god, it makes you want to paint every inch of his skin in lipstick red, like a blank colouring book.
It takes him entirely too long before he gathers himself again. Eyes blinking rapidly like trying to wake himself from a drunken stupor, before shock is replaced by that familiar grumpy scowl.
"I'm–" he pauses to clear his throat, "I’m trying to make breakfast here."
"So do it," you respond cheekily, leaning in to kiss him again, "Don't let me stop you"
You keep pressing little kisses to his skin, leaving red lip prints all over and delighting in the fact that his face gets hotter with each one. More than a little bit smug to see the pink flush deepen and spread over his cheeks and down his throat.
For once, Marc-nothing-can-faze-me-Spector is struggling to keep his cool, and you are taking entirely too much joy in being the cause of that. 
You reach up again, hands cupping his cheeks to tilt him to your mouth and press a kiss against his lips until they are stained bright lipstick red. 
Marc remains still, but you can feel the frustration vibrating off the surface tension of his skin.
This time he lets go of the pan, and it clatters loudly back onto the stove. 
You step back to the sight of that familiar irritated glare in his eyes even as he's blushing an unfamiliar bright barbie pink on his cheeks. His thumb hovering over his lipstick smeared bottom lip. 
At first you think he's going to wipe it away. He doesn't. Instead his thumb just lingers over the mark, hand trembling slightly.
"Stop teasing," he grumbles.
It’s meant to be a warning, you’re sure, but all you feel is excitement of what's to come.
There's a saying isn't there? About not poking a bear with a stick. Except in that scenario it’s because you don't want to anger it and have it maul you, and in the present, that's exactly what you want from Marc. 
You step in close again, tilting your face up to deliver another kiss.
All you can hear is a low growl, and then Marc is moving. His hand comes to the back of your neck and reels you into him, so close you can feel the embarrassed heat radiating from his cheek as if it were your own. 
Then his lips are on yours, and joy and love surge through you, blending in a dizzying concoction that makes your surroundings spin. 
You expect his kiss to be harsh and hungry, but Marc continues where you left off, pressing gentle, nearly chaste kisses to your lips over and over again. 
It could almost be innocent if it weren't for the way he's panting against your lips. The way his strong arm wraps around your waist. The way his fingers dig into your hip as he drags your hips against his, crushing you against him until you can feel him—all of him, the length of him hot and hard against your stomach—even through his jeans. 
His hand slides down over your hip to your thigh, one firm palm gripping and lifting to hook your leg over one side of his wide hips so he can grind against you. It's desperate and frenzied, the bulge of his cock slotting perfectly between your legs. Pressing forward until you’re so close that you can feel it jerking against you with each shuddering roll of his hips.
And through it all, he kisses and kisses and kisses you, gentle presses that grow just a little bit harder with each one. It sparks through your veins like an ember, heady and sweet until you think you could melt from it.
His lips drag against your own until finally, he parts them. The slight edge of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, like he wants to devour you whole. 
And you'd let him. You’d let him bite in and swallow every morsel of you without resistance, but for some unfathomable reason, he… doesn't. 
Instead he stills. Pulls back. Both of you gasping and shaking as you just look at each other.
He doesn't say anything. His gaze drops to your lips, his own parted and trembling.
You're just about to ask him what's wrong, when you realise that nothing is.
You've been together long enough now that you are finally starting to get the hang of hearing the things Marc leaves unspoken. Can read that hesitant look in his eyes and know what he’s thinking.
You know that in this moment all Marc wants is more. That’s what he doesn't know how to say.
Because Marc is still learning to ask for what he wants. And you know that the more he wants something, the less able he is to ask for it. (And the more you want to give it to him.)
And right now, the thing he wants more of is…
"Hang on a tic," you tell him, holding up a single finger. Your voice sounds throaty, but somehow miraculously calm despite the way your heartbeat is pounding in your ears. You reach behind you, scooping up your discarded handbag and plucking your lipstick from it as easy as you please. The small round tube nearly falls into your hand like it's guided by divine inspiration.
Marc's hands tremble on your hips, fingers gripping tight, tighter, tightest until it's almost painful. Somehow that only makes it better.
How many people on this earth can say that they've managed to make Marc Spector tremble?
Somehow your hands are still rock steady. Uncapping the lipstick, you feel his cock jerk hard against your thigh once, and then again as you twist the tube and begin to slick the bright stoplight red onto your lips.
You don't have a mirror. Don't need one. Don’t even have to look to know this is the cleanest application you'll ever manage, for all that your lips were already smeared to hell when you started. Your lipstick is perfect. You can tell by the way Marc is looking at your mouth. Staring at your mouth. Staring at you, like you're a goddess come to life. Every desperate desire he's ever had made flesh, made divine. 
Marc Spector makes you feel divine.
Twisting the lipstick back down, you recap it, barely managing to tuck it away in your bag with hands that are just beginning to shake. Then you reach for him.
Framing his face with trembling hands, you lean forward to press a single, perfect kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"There we go," you manage, before the need for him rises up to swallow you whole and your voice goes ragged, unspooling at the edges.
"Now, Marc. Please, now."
You don't need to say more than that. You watch the muscle in his jaw jump as he grits his teeth.
The ground beneath your feet vanishes in an instant, all you feel is Marc's arms wrapped around your waist as he hoists you up against the nearest kitchen counter. Firm, thick thighs framed against your sides as he presses you down against the hard surface. All you hear is the fumbling and swearing as he struggles to get his tight jeans undone and pushed down because his usually-rock-steady hands are trembling.
You’ve never seen him like this. All of him is shaking, every muscle in his body straining, so worked up he's practically vibrating with need. And you feel it too, his desperation seeping into you like a contagion, until you can barely breathe. Until you feel sick with want for him. 
You reach down to help him with his fly, the material of his jeans sticky against your fingers, his cock jerking under the fabric at your touch.
"Fuck. Baby," his voice is a raw and ragged thing, dragging in his throat like the air from his lungs has been wrenched from him. 
Everything inside you tingles with excitement at his tone. It doesn't matter that you're still sore from last night. That your legs are still wobbly from the pure physical exertion of it. All you want is more. More of this. More of Marc.
Clumsily, you get his zipper down and reach inside. He's hot and hard, the skin velvety smooth and slick, his cock jerking under your touch as you free him.
He shoves a hand between your legs in return, drags the soaked crotch of your knickers to the side, and unceremoniously slides two fingers into you, filling you so perfectly that you gasp at the sensation.
Heat spears through you, your hips bucking forward so hard you nearly fall off the counter, but he's there to hold you down with his weight.
His hips pressing forward. His hand pulls back, knocking yours out of the way so he can grab himself. Line himself up. The slick, fat head of his cock pressing against you. 
It's hurried and frantic. Your head spins from the blood rushing through your head so fast your vision blurs.
Then Marc presses inside. 
His cock is hot. Slipping into you like a fiery brand. Like the missing heart of you coming home. Burning you from the inside out. You both moan, gasping into each other's mouths.
When did you start kissing again?
You don't know. Why did you even stop? You never want to stop.
You can't move. Can’t think. Can't fucking breathe, but it's okay. You don't need to. Don't need anything except this. His cock pressing into you. Lodging itself inside you until it's as deep as it's possible to go.
You gasp again, and your head falls back, breaking the kiss as pleasure spears though you, sharp and blindingly sweet. It’s too much. It’s perfect.
Marc says something as his hips retreat, but you don’t register what it is, barely realise that he’s spoken.
You don’t register he's talking to you, asking you for something, until he stops moving. You whine, clawing at his shoulders because whatever he wants, the answer is, 'yes.'  
"Again," he repeats, and yes, that’s what you want. You want him to fuck you again, but he’s not doing it. Why did he stop?
"Baby," he says, the word scraping its way out of his throat like it's made of broken glass, "Kiss me again."
Oh.
It doesn’t register with you then—not really—the significance of his ask. How unusual it is that Marc is asking you for something that he desperately wants. You’ll remember later. Notice later. But for right now, it doesn't matter, because you want to give him what he wants regardless. You always want to give this man anything and everything he wants.
You lunge forward, his stubble scraping against your lips as you glance off his chin leaving a red smear.
Hot pleasure blooms as he thrusts forward into you.
"Again," he says.
You whine as he pulls back, but you're quicker on the uptake this time. Kissing his throat and get to watch his Adam's apple bob under the red lip print you leave behind, before your vision goes fuzzy with the next overwhelming thrust.
"Again."
You kiss his jaw, and he barely pauses before fucking back into you.
"Again."
His throat, again. and you're rewarded with the hot perfect press of him inside.
"Again."
Everything starts to blur. His words slurring together; your lips barely leaving his skin. The heavy weight of him pushing its way inside you.
You're panting open mouthed against his shoulder, lips sliding and sticking against his skin.
"Again," he demands, even though there's no longer any lull in your movements, 
"Again."  No break in contact of your lips on his skin. 
"Again." No pause in his rhythm.
"Again." No respite from the way the feeling swells. Coils tight, right where his cock is pounding, relentless, into the very centre of you.
"Again."
You can't–
"Again."
Oh god, you’re about to–
"Again. Again. Aga–ngh"
The litany breaks off, words dying, replaced by a strangled groan, when you come hard, your body clamping down, clenching around him. 
Through the waves of overwhelming pleasure, you feel the sting of his blunt fingernails digging in too hard at your hips. Hear the tiny, ragged "Oh. Baby. Fuck." that leaves his lips like it's been punched out of him.
You swear you can feel the heavy weight of him swell inside your still-clenching cunt, and then the reflexive, aborted jerk of his hips, as his cock begins to pulse.
He holds you there, tight against him, or maybe you hold him or both of you hold each other, as you shudder there together for long, endless moments.
When it's finally over, he presses one last, gentle kiss to your lips and pulls back.
You watch, heart so full of love for him that your chest aches, as one side of his red-smeared mouth pulls up in a rare, happy smile.  You trace the corner of it with one mostly-steady finger, and can't help smiling back.
“Well now," you say, once you're certain your voice won't betray you too badly, "I've made quite the mess of you, haven't I?"
Marc's eyes roam over your face. One warm hand comes up to cup your jaw, and you lean into his touch, letting him drag his thumb over your lips. You can feel it sticking slightly on whatever's left of your lipstick, but what does it matter? It's not like he can make it any worse now, is it?
"Yeah," he says. His thumb lingers.  His gaze too. Eyes gone soft and warm the longer he looks at your mouth. "Your mess."
Something constricts in your chest at the words. A deep-rooted, possessive protectiveness that takes hold, then unfurls, spreading everywhere, warm and sweet.  
"Yes," you agree, tightening your arms around his back to pull him closer to you. "All mine."
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A/N a sequel to the angsty Love Bites where Marc gets his yearning fulfilled. @thirstworldproblemss and I wrote this ages ago before Christmas but then we felt that there needed to be more ✨ yeaaaaarning✨ Hope you had fun reading.
Follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!
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astroboots · 2 months
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MS BOOTS I HAVE FOOD FOR THEE!!!
https://www.instagram.com/p/C1XyLv6PDgx/?igsh=MXBkMTlvOHNrcHZlMA==
OH LA LA! thank you for the food!
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astroboots · 2 months
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Me reading “Superhuman Stamina”: 🥵🥵🥵
Me after finding out it’s set before Nena’s death: 😭💀
Babe I am so sorry! Please accept my condolences.
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astroboots · 2 months
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> Her life is a lot lonelier because she never had the time or the opportunity to build a fuller life as a result
damn that’s so sad. shees me fr tho 😳🥲
She is also me 😳😳😳😳
Trust me when I say that Cielito's hatred for her work comes from a very real and personal space. 😆
I started writing EYEM in the same week that I was starting my new job. While I've never worked in insurance I have a lot of experience working in corporate jobs and there is a lot that is inspired from my experiences of that in the office scenes.
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astroboots · 2 months
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Giving Hamsteven a massage (he's had a rough day of no attention)
https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cz2rjAVPGuK/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==
oh noes!!! the video isn't available but that sounds absolutely adorable.
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astroboots · 2 months
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omg i know you’re on a hiatus but the thought of celebrating y/n’s first hanukkah with steven is so sweet. like him telling him his culture/religion and making cute memories of it ahhhhhh my heart. also i know i’m late too because hanukkah ended already but the thought flew in my head and i needed to tell someone - 🧚🏼‍♀️
🧚🏼‍♀️ nonny!!!! Hello!!! I've missed you.
I'm so so sorry this is waaay past the time when you wrote this! I love this idea and it's so beautiful!
I know that @softlyspector wrote this absolutely beautiful fic about spending Hanukkah with the boys that melted my heart. First light it's gorgeous and I cannot recommend it enough.
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astroboots · 2 months
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Hey Cici!
I know you’re on hiatus but this question sprang to mind, so I hope you see it when you’re back!
Are there any big differences between Nena and Cielito? After reading your one shots like superhuman stamina, etc, I got the sense that maybe Nena is more confident and has had a more vibrant life than Cielito. I don’t know what you think?
Oh and on that same train of thought, are there any differences between EYEM and ATSV Miguel. Obviously, I love ATSV Miguel, but EYEM Miguel has my heart in a chokehold! I’d love to know if you have any little random headcanons for him!
Hello!!! So sorry it's taken absolutely forever to answer this one!
I love this question! Yes there are significant differences in Nena and Cielito. Primarily because while the worlds they lived in are fairly similar (save for a few idiosyncracies) their lives are very different.
There's several factors to this.
Nena meets Miguel at a much earlier point in her life than Cielito (almost a decade earlier). They built a life together, had a whole crew of friends (both superhero and not-supers).
She also had Miguel and lived a much less lonelier life than Cielito. Cielito on the other hand, never meets Miguel until the start of EYEM. She spent the last 10 years of her life, consumed in a corporate work just to keep afloat and to earn enough money to be able to stay in NY (cause rent ain't cheap, nor is anything else in the big apple, not even apples). Her life is a lot lonelier because she never had the time or the opportunity to build a fuller life as a result.
As for differences between EYEM and ATSV Miguel Oh boy oh boy! I had at one point thought of writing a oneshot about this but it was too devastating and angsty.
The main difference is that EYEM and ATSV are the same up to a divergent point. That point being Nena's death. They both live through and EYEM/ATSV Mig is one and the same right up until the end of chapter 12.5. After that they diverge.
After her death Miguel shuts down emotionally hiding himself away from the world. Until our favorite A.I. right-hand woman, offers Miguel a glimpse into an "alternative" Nena, one where her and Miguel are together, and have a daughter, in her attempt to cheer him up.
This is where there's two options:
EYEM Miguel doesn't want to see it. He locks himself away to deal with his grief and tries to not interact with the world or any other universes, for years and when he does, he almost immediately runs into Cielito...
As for ATSV Miguel.... he watches and is consumed by this other world, showing himself a better alternative than the one he has himself face. Until of course... that Miguel is killed, leaving behind this other Nena a widow, and his daughter an orphan... And Miguel gets a misguided idea, and well... we all know what happens then.
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astroboots · 2 months
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I've completely forgotten I wrote this!!! Thank you so much for reminding me!!
The moon knight system leaving random love letters for their s/o when they're out on missions.
And they're so poetic and make you feel like melting bc of how sweet the letters are
Im sorry i just cant get over this
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Me reading this!!!!
That's so beautiful. Can you just imagine waking up in the morning when Marc's told you the night before they're gonna be gone for a mission for a while?
The note he leaves you on his pillow is in the typical Marc fashion. Grumpy, curt and short, telling you he'd packed you a lunch to take to work (because he knows you hate the M&S sandwich deals and have on occasion just skipped lunch altogether during busy periods) . He leaves a garish looking lunchbox, like it was made for elementary kids with cartoon fish decorating it and on the fish tank, next to it, there's a post it note in Marc's handwriting and all it says is: "Needs Refrigerator. Do not leave out!"
You're the envy of all your co-workers when you open it at work. Because fuck it's the most delicious packed lunch you've ever tasted.
A perfectly cut sandwhich, no crust. It's stuffed with deep fried katsu (how did he even make that in the middle of the night without waking you up?!). A mini charcuterie deal on the side with rolled up salami, parma ham, neatly cut cheese and pickles inside. The adorable grump has even made you a little fruit cup with strawberries, cut apples and kiwis.
You scarf down your lunch, when you notice there's a letter folded inside the napkin. The handwriting is too messy to be from Marc.
"Marc wouldn't really let me help, said I'd burn down the kitchen, but I wanted to send you off with something special" and on the other side, in his handwriting is an excerpt from his favourite poet and a cute doodle of a goldfish with hearts that makes your heart melt.
ASK ME ANYTHING
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astroboots · 2 months
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Hamster! Also hope you’re enjoying your several trips. <3 https://instagram.com/homuraham?igshid=MTNiYzNiMzkwZA==
AAAH thank you baby. I had an absolute blast! Malaga was gorgeous and Lisbon is such a fun city I crammed my backpack full of ceramics.
AND OH DEAR LORD this insta-account is gold! thank you so much for sharing with me.
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astroboots · 2 months
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I feel like if there weren’t any mirrors that reached the floor, this is how hamsteven would have his face-to-face conversations with Marc and jake. Just us clutching his little body and whistling (or trying to) and looking at the ceiling like it’s the most interesting thing ever to try and give them some privacy 😭😭 Would they be in hamster form too???
aaaah so frustratingly I can't access the page because instagram is saying it's no longer available!??!?!
But I love the scene you painted for me that sounds so cute and so funny! I love it.
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astroboots · 2 months
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Hamsteven going to work with reader!!
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C0O3lSavjUS/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==
instagram
OMG THIS CUTIE PAAAAAI look at his cute little nooooose!
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