chubby chin

heres to all the fat nonbinaries!!! this goes out to all trans people generally but because im nonbinary and don’t see a lot of posts about fat nonbinary trans ppl i dont want to forget us!

you aren’t a boy or a girl or anything or nothing based on your fat, and you aren’t NOT a boy or a girl or anything or nothing based on your fat! fat doesnt have anything to do with gender! if someone tells you that your fat makes you more or less of your gender, they’re wrong!

you can nonbinary with a fat tummy! with big arms! with or without boobs or a butt or a waist or thighs! you can be nonbinary with chubby cheeks and double chins! you can be nonbinary if your superfat too! you can be nonbinary with ANY body! you can be nonbinary at any size, height, or weight too!

you might feel dysphoria because of your body, even because of some of your fat. but i promise it isn’t the fat thats giving you dysphoria, it’s what people pretend that it means! its ok to transition while you’re fat! it’s ok for your transition to make you fat - in fact, it can be a great thing! it’s ok if your transition causes you to lose fat too (there might be a whole surgery about it :3), but please try not to lose fat on purpose, it’s not healthy. transitions should make you healthier by changing your body to what makes you feel euphoric as yourself! it’s tough, but try to recognise what makes you feel euphoric vs what makes you feel more “correct” by others’ standards - the former is what your transition should look like, not the latter!

whether you feel big, strong, weak, fluffy, soft, hard, heavy, chubby, big, or just plain fat, your gender is awesome and unique and your body is awesome too! it’s good how it is now and its good how it will be if you transition! any size, weight, or proportions are good! 

and, if you’re ok with this concept, fat nonbinary people are sexy too! you can be sexy however you want! your gender is what it is no matter how you have sex or feel sexy or with whom your have sex. and your fatness makes you sexy, because it is your body and you are sexy! you are desirable because you are fat and because you are nonbinary! i promise.

and finally it’s alright if it’s hard to believe me. i know i often feel like my fatness invalidates my gender and makes me ugly and worthless. but it should be okay for us to love our bodies and our genders and our selves! i want to try.

-love, a fat nonbinary person (still figuring out labels) who wants to transition but doesnt know how, who’s loved passionately by another nonbinary person and who loves them passionately, and who wishes there was more love for all my fat transgender family out there!

deathhrxse  asked:

hey! was just wondering if u had any tips/tutorials/anything on drawing plus size ladies! I saw your space princess allura and I fell in love. I'm rly trying to break away from defaulting to thin girls! pls help me, an amateur 😩😩😩 tysm ur art is so beautiful 🌠✨✌

Thank you! I;m sorry for the super late reply, I tend to sit on asks meaning to answer them, and then I don’t know how to answer them properly. So they usually sit in my inbox for a while.

I’m not heaps confident when it comes to drawing chubby/plus size ladies, so I don’t know if I’m the right person to ask, I’m also pretty sure there are so many other people who have explained that sort of thing much better.

I;m going to say the annoying tip and say, use references, they help! When practicing how to draw bodies, look at pictures and try and draw them, don’t worry about making it look “pretty” or “nice”, the stylistic stuff comes after you get the hang of drawing bodies (everytime you learn a new way of drawing something, its another thing to add to your style).

Experiment with not making the waist the centre of the picture, or drawing the arm super thin.

Though I do realise I do do this, but learning to draw figure without necessarily having the gap between the arms and waist is a good exercise.

Also, look up the pin up art character of Hilda, she’s so cute, and while her poses are more or less sexy, they are not exaggerated or fetishized. I mean, all pin-up art is objectifying, but shes really cute and one of the more natural looking pin up illustrated characters out there.

She has rolls, and a chubby chin! 

So this may have been an unhelpful answer, but hey, there’s a puppy in the bottom pictures so, silver lining.


“Your too fat.”

“I didn’t know [insert character] was black!”

“Why don’t you do more black cosplays?”

“Cosplay to your size!”

“I don’t think that looks right on you, why don’t you cosplay [insert character] instead?”

“Why is [insert character] black? They’re not black in the show.”

“You shouldn’t cross-play, it looks weird on you.”

“Your boobs are too big for [insert character].”

To everyone who as ever posted a comment or question like this, my answer:

I am a black plus size female cosplayer, if you don’t like it… well honestly I don’t care. The more you comment like an idiot, the more it feeds my will power to prove I’m an amazing cosplayer, not matter what you say. I may have days, or even weeks when I feel down about myself, but that will never stop me from doing what I love. I may have large boobs, chubby stomach, double chin, hair on my face, dark spots around my face and body, and a flat butt, but I rock any cosplay I put on. So grow up, and get out of my face. <3

anonymous asked:

I think I has a prompt regarding Bruce and Selina: Selina is stuck taking care of someone's infant for the weekend, but she's has no idea what to do... fortunately she knows someone who has raised/cared for plenty of children.

Selina narrowed her eyes, lips pursed as she stared at the tiny human sat in a high chair in front of her. It blinked up at her with deep, round almond-shaped eyes that seemed more mesmerised by Selina’s pearl necklace than anything else, reaching out for it energetically with little grabbing motions.

‘Not for you,’ Selina told the baby, leaning forward with her arms crossed and speaking in a low, vaguely threatening whisper.

‘Selina…’ Bruce’s strained voice was tinged with practiced disapproval as he returned to the Manor kitchen with a small pot of baby food. ‘Please don’t hiss at the baby.’

‘…Why not?’

‘You might make her cry.’

Selina blinked at him and glanced at the baby, who seemed to be perfectly fine and was now distracted by its own hands. She shrugged with a non-comital huff as Bruce sat down next to her and opened the small pot. She leaned over to sniff the orange mush and made a face at it, pulling back in disgust.

Eugh. What is that?’

‘Carrots,’ Bruce responded simply, using a small, colourful plastic spoon to scoop some out and hold it out towards the baby’s mouth. ‘Babies like-’

The baby made a sound somewhere in between a squeal and a cry and immediately waved its hands around, head twisting away from the spoon. One of its hands made contact with the spoon and sent it flying, along with a spray of orange mush, into Bruce’s face.

Selina cackled, collapsing into a pile on the kitchen table as Bruce sat there in stony silence, too stunned in the apparent betrayal of the moment to say anything.

‘I’m sorry,’ Selina grinned mischievously. ‘Did you want to finish that sentence?’


Bruce stood and left for a moment, coming back with some wet-wipes that he used to methodically clean himself, then the high chair, then the baby. The baby whined and Bruce murmured in a gentle, low tone as he wiped the baby’s mouth, the white cloth coming away in neon orange.

‘What’s your name, kiddo?’ he said, tickling under the baby’s brown, chubby little chin and eliciting a string of high-pitched giggles.

‘Elisa,’ Selina answered on behalf of the tiny person, watching Bruce with a curious look in her eyes.

‘Elisa…’ Bruce said, smiling as he tested out the name.

She had seen him with kids before, of course. Dick had only been nine when he had been taken in by Bruce, and Selina remembered how strange, but right it had been. It was as if Bruce had been born to raise Dick. As if his entire life had led to that moment in the circus when his heart fell with the Flying Graysons and then reached out to catch their son in a safety net of his own making.

And now, as she stared at him with this little baby, making airplane noises with the spoon of carrot much to her unbridled delight and joy, she couldn’t help but remember that feeling of rightness, her lips twisting with the beautiful irony of it all.

The mysterious and brooding Dark Knight of Gotham who struck fear into the hearts of criminals everywhere… was good with babies.

‘You know I have to return this one, right?’ Selina mocked gently.

‘Contrary to stipulations of the press and mass media…’ Bruce said distractedly as he fed Elisa and used the spoon to scoop the dribbles of mush up off her chin. ‘I do not keep a stack of ready-to-sign adoption papers in the Manor.’

‘Says the man who picks kids up off the street and at circuses,’ Selina quipped, unable to keep the warmth out of her voice. ‘So. The baby has been changed, fed… now what?’

‘Now, it’s nap-time.’

‘Are you sure this isn’t just an excuse for you to sleep on the job?’

‘We both resent that statement, don’t we?’ he said, making a face at Elisa as he swung her up out of the high chair and held her aloft above his head like an airplane, muscles flexing. Before Selina could ask him if he was actually referring to himself and the baby as “we,” he brought the baby down and continued. ‘Do you know how much sleep babies need?’

‘I know how little sleep bats apparently need,’ Selina replied, watching the baby as her chubby little hands patted Bruce’s stubbly chin with delighted shrieks.

‘A newborn needs approximately eight hours during the day, eight at night. By the time they’re six months, like little Elisa here, they need three hours during the day and around eleven at night.’

‘You’re a very informed babysitter.’

‘Isn’t that why you handed me a baby, said “you know what to do” and then tried to leave by the fourth-floor window?’

‘Actually, I did it mostly as a joke. And because, believe it or not, a lot of women have this thing about men holding babies.’

Bruce raised his eyebrows and turned to look at Selina with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, chin resting atop the baby’s head.

‘And is this… doing anything for you?’ he asked in a teasing whisper.

Selina’s eyes grew wide in mock horror as she let out an exaggerated gasp and put her hands over little Elisa’s ears.

‘Corrupting the baby with your foul mouth… have you no shame, Mr. Wayne?’

Bruce simply laughed.

‘I should have more,’ he said as he stood, holding the baby on his hip and reaching out for the pack of wet-wipes. Selina took a hold of his wrist, stopping him.

‘I’ll clean up, Bruce. Go ahead and take the baby up and I’ll join you once I’m done.’

She wasn’t sure he heard her at first, momentarily distracted by Elisa’s delighted peals of laughter and prodding fingers that were pulling at his mouth as if it were elastic. He screwed up his face at the baby and hefted her to his other hip.

‘Are you sure you’re not going to run away on me?’ he addressed Selina finally, wincing when Elisa caught ahold of his hair.

Selina was already daintily pulling wipes out of the packet.

‘I may not be a baby person Bruce, but I do have a sense of responsibility, believe it or not,’ she said lightly. ‘And I promised to take care of that baby, so I’m not going to leave her anywhere. Not even with you. After her nap, she’s coming with me on a heist and everything.’


She grinned, pleased that her teasing was getting under his skin as usual. ‘I’m kidding, Bruce. Go. I’ll be up soon.’

Bruce made a noise that sounded like reluctance mixed with doubt, but Elisa’s whines took priority in the moment.

‘C’mon, chum,’ he said. ‘Let’s go get you into bed, hm?’

Selina watched him leave with the baby and then sat there in the silence for a minute that drew itself out like grains of quicksand in a glass, thoughts and worries and feelings flowing through her mind in a pile.

She snapped out of her thoughts with a small sniff, and gave the high-chair a quick wipe-down. Then she started a cup of coffee.

By the time she made it upstairs, tiptoeing down the hallway to Bruce’s room, it had been an hour. Cautiously, she opened the door and poked her head in, squinting into the dim, curtained heaviness of late afternoon.

The baby lay on Bruce’s chest, supported by one of Bruce’s hands; its small body rising and falling as he breathed. Both were fast asleep.

Selina smiled fondly and walked over to the bed, carefully climbing onto it and holding her breath as she looked down at them. Playfully, she poked the baby’s soft cheek before leaning over to place a kiss on Bruce’s forehead, and then snuggled up beside him.

The words stuck themselves to the back of her throat, refusing to disappear no matter how many times she tried to swallow them down. They pressed forward against her tongue, bitter and sharp, the worry that had been with her ever since that first little Robin had swooped down and entered Bruce’s life.

I can’t give him what he wants.

She knew it was stupid, deep down. She knew that Bruce was going to tell her that it was stupid, that he loved her and didn’t believe in the antiquated, false idea that women weren’t women unless they had a baby. That he already had plenty of kids and was more looking forward to being a grandfather than a father to yet another child.

She knew it was stupid. But she also knew she had to hear the words come from his mouth to really believe them. 

So she took in a long, shaky breath.  

‘I’m not a baby-person, Bruce,’ she whispered, her voice quiet, almost childish as it wavered in suspended fear. ‘Is that terrible? Does that make me a bad person?’

She was met at first with silence. Then Bruce stirred, his free hand taking a hold of Selina’s, intertwining fingers, and giving it a firm squeeze.

‘No,’ he responded groggily from the depths of sleep. ‘No, it doesn’t.’

Selina bit her lip, burying her face into Bruce’s arm.

‘I love you, Bat,’ she mumbled into it.

‘I love you, Cat.’