Me and @treelsprouts are making marble sky oc
(In the teens ages ↓ ↓ ↓)
Here's mine! His name is Mars.
Mars is a junior\Sub commander in Marmor forces.
Also, he's Kraz's caretaker(?) Since Kraz is a lil piece of shit and a trouble maker, everyone made a decision to give him someone who could look after him. (Plus, Cass didn't really tell us about Marmor families, but let's just say that these two are siblings)
Being the literal army junior commander doesn't stop him from absolutely adoring teegatdenians. He really often visits them in the prison to listen about their culture, life, people, fauna, flora and give them some medical care. (he makes excuses for others that he is just wooing them so that they do not die from injuries and in that case, mire information can be extracted from them)
He even had a tree friend - Tulip! (Or Daffodill, i can't decide) But... No matter what...
Social pressure is way too strong...
Also @somerandomdudelmao , hello :3
Yeah, one more thing. I have a hc that Marmor's "eyes" widening when they're feeling anxious, scared or just very uncomfortable and vulnerable, to increase their "echo location" Senses :]
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@hinnymicrofic prompt 26: Home
As they say, home is a feeling, and a house is a building. Some people get it, some people don't.
Ginny knew the feeling though.
The moment she entered her and Harry's new flat, she knew she had to adjust to the quietness rather than being woken up by Ron or by her Mum calling her down for breakfast.
But the flat was beautiful and everything she had wanted.
The bonus is Harry.
"Do you like it?" He asked her as if her big smile didn't say enough.
"It's perfect!" She immediately started looking around and Harry chuckled at her.
A few days later, when everything in the house was set up, Ginny woke up and looked to her side and smiled. Harry was sleeping and the blanket was covering half of his face.
She gently ran her fingers through his hair and knew home was a feeling.
And Harry was her home.
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WIP Wednesday - Hot Chocolate
Here. Have some unconventional family dynamics 🖤
“This place is adorable,” Padme remarks, not for the first time since they sat down at the little round cafe table, bathed in light from the large bay window, “How did you find it?”
“Apparently, the hot chocolate I made last week was ‘sub-optimal,’— ” Anakin explains, shooting a sideways glance at his very opinionated daughter, who raises an eyebrow in response, “—I still want to know who taught a five-year-old that term—,” he knows it’s just from hearing Padme on work calls, and the way she laughs makes him smile, “—so I went on a search for the best hot chocolate in the city. Almost every list had this place at the top.”
It’s obvious to see why, aside from the bustling crowd and buzzing atmosphere, the menu boasts over a dozen different hot chocolates, each more indulgent than the last — The way the twins are practically vibrating in their seats, waiting as patiently as possible for their treat, their eyes widening every time they see another sugary concoction pass their table tells him the search was well worth the effort.
Big-time dad points right here.
“Well, it’s an excellent find,” Padme smiles, giving his arm a quick squeeze and muttering something about how much she likes the wall sconces.
It’s a bit eclectic, a handful of tables scattered throughout the space with several vignettes of comfortable-looking couches and chairs that look as if they were bought from various garage sales, but the place is so warm and welcoming it feels as if every last thing was chosen with intention and purpose.
The books that line the shelves along the back wall all look well-loved, their spines cracked and dust jackets removed. There are vines snaking along the walls that Anakin assumed were fake until he followed the path back to the little terra cotta pots from which the greenery originates. Twinkle lights and paper snowflakes litter the ceiling and it’s hard not to feel in the holiday spirit sitting in a place like this.
Anakin used to hate Christmas Eve.
The excited anticipation was always lost on him as a child, preferring to fast forward to the part where he got to find out what was in all those boxes. He would lay in bed with his eyes squeezed shut, willing time to move faster, desperate for morning to break.
Now he finds, he likes to hold on to the bright buzzing energy of the night before Christmas — festive and frantic with last-minute errands and cheerful expectation — now he loves to watch the way two small perfect humans smile and shine with all the promise tomorrow brings.
For them, tomorrow brings treats and toys and twinkle lights.
For them, magic and wonder replace reality for a day.
For them.
For Anakin—
Luke lets out an excited little gasp and Anakin turns to see four spectacular mugs of hot chocolate heading toward their table. He smiles, looking back at the twins just to watch the way their eyes grow wider and wider, sparkling with sheer excitement as the mugs draw closer and closer.
“Who wants some hot chocolate?” A smooth voice asks, the twins responding in affirmative screeches, waving their hands in the air for emphasis and Anakin can’t help but join in, answering “Me!” as he turns to look at the man who’d asked the question.
Anakin’s heart stops.
The shrieking children go silent in his ears. Padme’s soft laughter a million miles away.
The first thing he notices is not the full Santa suit the man wears or the way the kind smile fades from his lips half a moment after his gaze scans over Anakin’s face.
No, the first thing Anakin notices is his eyes.
Not how bright and beautiful they are.
Not how they appear to shift and swirl even in the seconds they stare at each other.
No.
Anakin notices how familiar they are.
Except the last time Anakin saw those eyes, they weren’t looking down at him with startled shock.
Last time Anakin saw those eyes they were staring up through copper lashes from the floor of a dirty bar bathroom as the man currently holding a tray of hot chocolate swallowed Anakin’s cock.
“These look amazing.”
Padme’s words seem to shake both men from their shocked stupor and Anakin finally notices the red hat on the man’s head and the way the big white pom pom sits on a strong shoulder.
He’s just as handsome as Anakin remembers.
“They— they really are something,” the man agrees, his eyes flitting quickly around the table, trying to make sense of the situation, concern and guilt and horror flooding his gaze with every passing moment and Anakin knows he should say something but he can’t figure out what. Cozy cafe Santa clears his throat and shifts his weight, mumbling a quick, “Right, yes, chocolate—” and setting the tray on the table before asking “Who ordered the white chocolate?”
The words tumble out of Anakin’s mouth before he can stop them.
“My ex-wife!”
Everyone looks at Anakin.
[Well, everyone but Luke, who is still fixated on the four mugs in front of him.]
“Uh— Padme,” he corrects, motioning to the woman sitting by his side — he doesn’t dare look at her — as if that would explain his sudden outburst, “Padme, right here, she— uh— she’s my— she ordered the white chocolate.”
He’s chewing his lip and rubbing the back of his neck and Santa is blushing as he places a tall glass mug in front of Padme — luscious and creamy, topped with thick whipped cream and pretty chocolate curls — but the horrible guilt seems to be draining from the man’s beguiling blue eyes.
“Thank you,” purrs Padme, her tone teasing and Anakin knows the exact smile she wears before he shoots her a pleading look, to which she only chuckles.
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