#thebatman

looks pretty crappy because I haven’t really put much effort into it yet, just drawing for fun LOL

my favorite movies

Después de hacerle tantos diseños a bruce

Finalmente me gustó este.

Es que tenía ue verse como emo y antes no parecía emo 😭

~As a plus sized woman, I’m tired of the hyper sexualization of the chubby body & the lack of fluff for it on tumblr. I’m trying to not only fill the x chubby reader stream with real, genuine fluff, but also get better at writing and stay off my phone. Enjoy, Gorgeous!~

“Fine, you win.” Oswald Cobb x Reader - Any Oswald variant, but made with 2022 The Batman Oswald in mind.

Contents → Female! Reader, Chubby! Reader, Reader is late twenties, early thirties (No Y/N mention,) fluff, comfort, slightlyOOC!Oz, slight debauchery mentioned (Natural with the iceberg longue.) Word count: 684

---------------------------- “Doll, ya look fine. Come on, the cars waitin’.” Oswald leaned against the frame of the door, his voice tinged with amusement. He watched as you fussed over yourself in the bathroom, eyes roaming over the outfit he bought you– It looked better in real life than he imagined. “Gimmie a sec, Oz,” You muttered, lipspursed as your tongue poked out slightly between your stained and glossed lips. “Damn flyaways are gonna be the death of me.” You gently batted at your hair with a flyaway tamer, something you saw online and bought a while back. Trying to get that perfect balance of tamed split hair, and the precaution of not making the gentle poof of your hair flat or greasy. What a world to be a woman. Oswald let out a low chuckle, stepping further into the bathroom. His cane gently thudded against the floor with each fall until he made his way behind you. He set the cane against the ornate marble of his bathroom counter, wanting both hands to be free to touch his ever so soft partner. “Lookin’ good tonight, babydoll.” He started, the tone of his voice low and smug, like when he was dealing with the business ‘associates’ or elite of Gotham. Yet, this carried a warmth, a warmth that no associate got to see.

His hands settled on the fat of your sides, just above your hips. Large, calloused hands slowly drifting a short distance up and down along your love handles, squishing occasionally just to feel the warmth of your flesh through the dress that adorned your curves. “Fits okay?” He asked, hands drifting down to your hips as he leaned some of his weight on your back. That clubbed foot of his seemed to be a pain that could never be fully alleviated, but the soreness was only a dull thump in his mind when comforted with your beauty. “Yeah, Oz, you outdid yourself this time.” You responded with a gentle grin, screwing the cap and wand into the tube of the flyaway tamer. You lifted your arms, not taking support away from him, just to strike a bit of a pose for him, he bought you the dress after all. He let out a low whistle, hands going higher until they sat on the plush, gentle roll above your ribcage. “Well, hello nurse.” He jested affectionately, and you smiled. He had this casual way of affirming you, never so over the top it seemed fake. Just enough. It wasn’t that charm he displayed towards government officials or the polite yet slightly kiss ass attitude he took with Carmine Falcone. This was real. “Ya look better than the girls at the longue, I mean just look at you.”

“Yeah, okay. Now I know you're trying to butter me up.” *Your response was witty, but also instinctual. Be humble, not too confident. You didn’t look like the girls at the Iceburg, not a single one of them. All skinny, thin women with the flexibility of a bendy straw and the body rich women get surgery for.

You weren't smooth. Weren't skinny. Curved rolls cascaded down your torso under a heavy chest, some of that skin covered in stretch marks or cellulite. The natural marks of a woman of your size, and as confident as you were, decades worth of media influence telling you you were imperfect just doesn't go away.

“I’m serious.” He persisted, once more letting his weight off you and grabbing his cane. “Those broads are dime a dozen. I could fire ‘em all in one night and ‘ave a new menagerie by the next mornin’.”

“They ain’t got nothin on you, toots. Now, get in the car before that district attorney thinks I ditched him.” He reminded. As much as he would love to stay in for the night and hold onto you, he had business to attend too. But, he wanted you there with him.

You smiled fondly. “Fine, you win.”

You smoothened your dress, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Can you get my purse from the living room?”