I liiiiiive for seeing fat black girls prosper in their careers, education, love life, and in life in general. We are especially taken through a lot of bullshit in and out of the black community, so I loved to see my fellow fat sisters strive and concur.
[[ I liiiiiive! And I’ve returned to you with some writing! *distant cheering* I’m starting to work through my prompts, so if you’ve sent one in, never fear they have no been forgotten! For this prompt, @eclipseoftheheartandsoul asked for Deaged! Tony, Bucky and Steve, with Darcy calling baby Tony a stud. I hope you enjoy it, dear! ]]
The elevator lets out an obnoxious ‘ding’ as it arrives, the sound loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the room. The doors slide open to Darcy’s grinning face, “Okay, so it’s ass o’clock in the morning and there’s more blood than caffeine in my system. What’s the emergenc- whoa!” Darcy cuts herself off mid tirade and blinks as Natasha bears down on her. The usually immaculate assassin is now anything but; her hair in a riotous mass of curls around a pale face bare of makeup. There’s what looks suspiciously like a jam kiss riding high on her left cheekbone, and a matching chocolate one on the opposite cheek. Natasha’s clothes aren’t faring much better, covered in glitter and scraps of felt. “Okay, why does it look like a day care centre threw up on you?” Darcy wonders aloud, in the tone of someone who very much does not want the answer to that question. Natasha’s eye twitches worryingly, and Darcy spends a moment silently reciting her will, and then gets distracted by the thought of Thor carrying her coffin, alone and shirtless. The image is both morbid and hot, very hot. Muscles.
When Darcy returns to reality, Natasha is still staring at her, patiently, like she knows Darcy just briefly left the planet. “Children.” She enunciates carefully, when she realises Darcy is paying attention. Darcy blinks, and slides her gaze over the other woman’s shoulder to the disaster zone beyond. Bruce is sprawled across the couch, covered in glitter and snoring. Clint is dozing on the back of the couch, his hair spiked with an alarming green substance Darcy doesn’t dare identify. Even Thor looks exhausted, slumped on the floor and hugging Mjolnir like a particularly hard, hammer shaped safety blanket. Actually, now that she’s looking, the ends of his hair look a little singed. “Children did this?” Darcy finally gets out, and is treated to a repeat of Natasha’s eye twitch. “It looks like you were attacked by a horde of angry scrap bookers!” Darcy’s voice climbs in volume, and Natasha’s eyes go wide. She gets halfway through shushing the other woman when a soft ‘thump’ comes from another room, and Natasha goes still. “Oh, no.” She whispers, as Clint snorts awake on the couch and Darcy looks on in bemusement.“The young sirs are awake.” JARVIS says, in the same tones one might say ‘the bomb is about to go off’, or ‘the zombies are at the door and you just used your last bullet’. Darcy belatedly wonders if she should have brought her taser, at least for comfort since she can’t see herself tasering small children, no matter how demonic. And then the sources of terror enter the room, and Darcy forgets about the state of the other Avengers entirely.Bucky enters first, and is easily recognised for his tiny metal arm. He’s wearing Iron Man pajama pants and a Hulk shirt, looking tousled and sleepy-eyed as he wanders in. Steve is behind him, tiny and fey looking with his white blonde hair and impossibly blue eyes. He’s clutching a teddy in one hand and Bucky’s flesh hand with the other. Tony is the last, and his appearance takes the longest for Darcy to compute.
He’s wearing a suit. He’s a tiny, dapper, immaculate little gentleman and Darcy just wants to smoosh his fabulous little face. “Oh, my god look at them. Look at them.” Darcy whisper shrieks, and the kids blink at her with varying levels of suspicion. After a moment, Tony walks past the other two, crosses the room and holds his hand out to her. “Hello, ma’am. My name is Tony.” He says crisply, and while it’s adorable it’s also a little sad to see such perfect manners in someone so obviously young. Darcy grins and reaches down to shake his hand. “Hi, Tony! I’m Darcy.” She replies, like this is totally normal, and is treated to a shy smile. “You’re very pretty, Miss Darcy.” Tony whispers, like it’s a secret, and his little face goes all pink. Darcy almost swoons. Bucky barrels up next to Tony, Steve on the other side until Tony is smooshed between them. “M’Bucky, an’ this is Steve.” Bucky declares, glaring pointedly at Darcy’s hand where it still cradles Tony’s until she lets go. Bucky immediately links his arm through Tony’s and Steve does the other, mutinous blue eyes staring up at her until Darcy feels wildly uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you, boys.” She gets out weakly, and then can only watch as Tony is resolutely tugged away to a small table in the corner covered in art supplies. Evidently, the table is where everything started. Natasha stares mournfully after them, no doubt expecting another explosion of mess. “I told you,” She says softly, and Darcy nods dazedly. After a moment of watching the three boys carefully orbiting each other’s space, she grins brightly. “Dude, baby Tony is a stud!”
so, normally i would be super fucking excited (and a bit skeptical lmao) about seeing snart anyway. but i’m going through a manic episode rn, and this trailer has me BUZZING and i am ALIVE this is Too Much
You want to know how to destroy me and turn me into a useless puddle of feels and tears? Use the cs move kiss. Use that against me and I’ll be at your mercy.
Like…I have never seen anything more perfect in my whole life.
It still makes me weak in the knees. Their lips chasing, like they can’t get enough of their kisses. The perfect mix of softness and passion and the incredulous, lovestruck expression on their faces as they part. THEIR SMILES growing even more when they see the other smiling. HIS FUCKING HAND BEING EVERYWHERE…under her chin, cupping her cheek or tangled in her hair, always touching her like she’s the most precious, delicate thing of the world. SERIOUSLY, WTF IS THIS? ARE YOU FOR REAL? *SLAMS KEYBOARD* LET ME LIIIIIIVE TT___TT
3. Make a sim with the opposite CC you normally do
Never used these eyebrows, eyes, hair, baby hair, or freckles before! The eyes are super alpha and I don’t think I could play with this sim in game and make it flow, but I am liiiiiiving for her in CAS.
a little prompt on how Child!Reader and Child!2Ps met, please?
((not sure how to approach this one but sure–
btw, i’m feeling tired today so i’m only gonna do the 2P Allies if ya don’t mind))
Ages 7 - 9
2P!America: “What are you looking at, dummy?” The young boy glared at you as he perched on the sidewalk and nursed a scraped knee. “It’s all your fault I got caught,” He rubbed away the blood and pouted. “And it’s all your fault I fell when I was running away from the bakery man– huh? What do you mean I can’t steal? I can take stuff if I want!” He stood up and faced you, crossing his arms. “So, to pay me back, you have to get me a Band-Aid and do everything I say for the rest of the week. ‘Kay? No backing out!”
2P!China: “But you’re so cuuuuuuute!” He cried out joyously as he chased after you on the playground. “Just gimme a kiss! One little kiss and I promise I’ll leave you alone for the rest of our liiiiiives~!” He laughed giddily as he finally caught up to you and hug-tackled you to the grass. “Hehe, got you!” He grinned boyishly, “I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you! One day me and you are gonna do the sex thing, ahahah!” He had hardly any idea what he was talking about, but that didn’t stop him from kissing his fingertip and pressing it to your cheek as he straddled you on the field one summer afternoon.
2P!England: “Allen, stop being such a meanie-head!” He scolded and then turned to you, an empathetic look on his freckle-covered face. “I’m so sorry, poppet! Don’t listen to any of the rude things Allen says to you! He doesn’t mean them, so please don’t cry!” He stepped closer and gently wiped away one of your tears. “I promise he won’t hurt your feelings anymore…” He smiled apologetically at you, then bent down to pluck a few flowers. “I can make you a flower crown if you’d like; would that make you feel better, dearie? Ooh, we can make them together and have a picnic tea party~!”
2P!France: “Stop talking so much.” He laid his head down on the desk, attempting to block out the noisy classroom. “We’re in the second grade, why does everyone have to scream so much?” He mumbled grouchily from the crook of his arms. “And why did I get stuck with you for the project? Ugh… I hope you’re one of the smart kids.” He didn’t speak to you much afterwards, but once he discovered you were less annoying than he first believed, he began to show subtle hints of respect and friendship. “So maybe you’re not so bad… um… w-wanna have a sleepover next weekend or something…?”
2P!Russia: “…hm? Why are you here…?” He’d been sitting alone at recess, playing with the ladybugs and roly polies. “Oh? You’d like to play with me…? But, why?” His tone sounded genuinely confused. “No one ever comes near me… They think I’m scary, am I scary?” When you said no, his expressionless face didn’t change much. “Ah… then that’s good. I could use a friend… Say, why don’t we go around the blacktop and look for people being bullied? If we save them, then maybe people will believe we’re nice. Oh, and bullying is super stupid, anyway!”