good boyish

I hate when people try to pretend that all the Batboys look identical. I dislike it when comic book artist, purposefully or not, draw them all so it looks like they’re all actually Bruce’s kids. The best part of Batman is that they’re not related, they’re all a bunch of lost, weird kids who somehow have made an awkward family together. By drawing them the same look and body type, it negates the individual aspects of the boys and their highlighted talents.

Dick is smaller than Bruce in both height and weight. He’s not very buff, he’s incredibly lean and flexible, able to move in ways Batman can’t. His skin has a lightly dusty quality to it, a remnant of his Romani heritage he’s never quite forgotten. Most people mistake it for a perpetual tan, he doesn’t elaborate that he comes from mixed parents. He’s handsome in a very conventional way with his boyish good looks being appreciated by most everyone he meets. He’s not trying to impress anyone except he is so he takes good care of himself and covers any visible scars he has. His hair is floppy, a little long at his bangs and neck, thick dark black with a light wave to it. He has wide, smiling eyes of a deep midnight blue color. In the right light, they can be as black as night or shine like sapphires.

Jason is tall and as big as a house. He’s incredibly strong and durable and his body reflects that. He can’t move as well as Dick but he’s learned to use his large size to his advantage. His skin is medium white, covered in scars and calluses. If he’s out in the sun for too long, a splash of freckles appear across his nose and cheeks. He’s handsome in a dangerous way, like how a coiled snake carries it’s own elegance. If he put more effort into it, he could use his chiseled good looks but doesn’t bother with such things. His hair is thick but more wiry, it never lays perfectly on his head and is always sticking up somewhere. It curls slightly on the ends. His eyes are lidded and a confused blend of blue and green with some brown in there too, as if they couldn’t decide on a color. After his resurrection, he swears his eyes are much more green than before, it could just be his imagination.

Tim is short and not overly muscled, but he is proportional. He is the smallest of the adult boys and he knows it, instead of beefing himself up, he hones his muscles to be more accurate and graceful. He can move incredibly fast and twist his limbs in seemingly impossible manners. His skin in very pale, no matter how much time he spends in the sun, he burns rather easily and is constantly putting on sunscreen. His face is taunt and angled as he’s just finishing the last of his adolescence. He’ll eventually grow into it but he won’t have Dick’s attractive features. His face is always marred by dark circles with his brow perpetually wrinkled in thought. He keeps himself tidy and neat, not so much for himself but for appearances. He appears as nicely as is required, he doesn’t mind that people note how absolutely exhausted he looks. His hair is softer, more fine than his brothers’. It falls in soft waves when he goes too long without a cut. His narrow eyes are a steely blue-grey, strong and piercing.

Damian is still in the midst of childhood but eventually already his body is showing signs of being tall and well built. He won’t be as heavily built as his father, taking more after his mother’s lean muscled form. A nice balance between Dick and Bruce’s body type. His current size means he has a great number of advantages and disadvantages, he tries to fight like a bigger man until he is forced to adjust to his small physique. His skin is dark and tanned, a mark of his mother’s heritage, he very clearly stands out against the other bats. His face is still rounded with youth but already is beginning to hollow out from his exercises. He’ll grow into his father’s strong jawline and become effortlessly attractive, though like Jason, he pays no mind to it. His hair is short and cropped, thick and coarse so it look ill-kempt if he lets it grow too long. His eyes have an Asian fold to them, highlighting his foreign features. Deep forest green eyes, the exact color of Talia’s, gaze imperiously at the world.


This is technically for the @xfficchallenges dialogue prompt - but it’s under the required word count, and I can’t submit things from a sideblog. Whomp whomp. So it shall live here instead! 


“Dammit, Mulder, how did you know?”

“You’re easy. All you think about is cutting up dead people and rescuing yappy dogs. And pasta, maybe. And my boyish good looks.”

“I miss the poor little guy.”

“I know, sweetheart. C’mere.”

“Don’t let me catch you calling me that anywhere but this bed.”

“Oh, come on, I think Agent Sweetheart’s got a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

“Ow - you’re on my hair - it’s your turn.”

“Hmm…. alright. Hit me.”

“Is it a person?”

“Not exactly.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Yes or no questions, only, Agent Sweetheart.”

“Hm… not exactly a person. A creature of some sorts?”

“No. Getting colder. It’s definitely human in nature.”

“Yes or no answers only, Mulder.”

“It’s kind of complicated to narrow down, now that I think of it. It doesn’t exactly have a physical form.”

“You’re supposed to choose something simple, like an actor or food or something.”

“Mmmm. Let’s start again. Okay, I’m ready.”

“Hey, no fair, what were you thinking of?”

“Alien Hand Syndrome.”

“Alien Hand Syndrome? Seriously? How was I supposed to guess that in 20 questions?”

“You’re a smart cookie, you’da gotten it.”

“I don’t even know what Alien Hand Syndrome is.

“It’s a condition in which a person has little to no control over their limbs - extremities act seemingly of their own accord, grasping, feeling, touching things without the brain giving it permission to…”

“Are you hiding a slideshow somewhere? Is it rigged to play on your ceiling?”

“Mmmm, I’m hiding something, alright. Oo-


Agent Sweetheart, you’re far bolder than that lovely little name of yours would suggest.

Must be Alien Hand Syndrome.


Happy Trans Visibility Day! Be yourself and be happy!


I was a little nervous about posting, since exploring my gender and really thinking about what makes me happy within how I identify myself and express myself is a more recent thing! >0>

Goodnight ✨

Why are all of the Zutara stories I’ve seen about “innocent Katara” and “experienced Zuko?” I mean, Katara found a different guy in practically every place they went. Zuko only had, like, two girls at the most (Mai and that earth girl whose name escapes me). Katara maybe sweet, but she’s not all that innocent, and Zuko maybe considered the “bad boy” type, but he’s actually just a huge dork.

I want Zutara fiction about Zuko asking Katara out but being really awkward and stuttering and Katara interrupting with, “I’d love to go out with you, Zuko.”

I want Zuko to plan the perfect date, but things to get ruined so Katara just smiles and says, “It’s not that bad!” Then they take a walk and she tells him about her worst dates and he tries to share too but it’s literally about Mai so his stories aren’t quite as crazy as hers. She still loves them, though, and he’s surprised that she’s actually laughing.

I want Zuko to be swept off his feet, unsure and constantly questioning himself because “It’s Katara. After all I’ve done, I don’t deserve her.”

I want Katara to worry about Zuko, constantly going out of her way to make sure he’s alright. I want her to assure Zuko who he is now is not who he used to be. “I mean, you’re the Fire Lord and you married a water bender! If that’s not a sign of the nation’s new start, then I don’t know what is.”

I want her to be a constant reminder that the Fire Nation is no longer a nation of war, but one of peace. I want their bond to symbolize the newfound bond between the lands. I want their relationship to be one of forgiveness, balance, and harmony.

I want silly and awkward Zuko. I want Katara to find him, not rough and hot, but charming and cute.

I want understanding and experienced Katara. I want Zuko to find her, not innocent and childlike, but dependable and mature.

I want motherly Katara and boyish Zuko. That is all I want in life.

Thoughts on today’s hockey game that are somewhat coherent, but are really in no particular order:
  • bob you are salty again, critiquing reimer’s foot position.  i love it.

  • omg jagr CUT YOUR FUCKING HAIR.  you used still have boyish good looks, now you look like a scary hermit that lives in the woods and eats raw squirrels  and appears on the edge of people’s property, just creeping like a creeper.  you’re like five days away from whiteboy dreads and no one wants that.

  • “go hit someone” “Yeah!” potash, it’s not like honry needs encouragement to hit people, but good for reminding him that he should totally do that.

  • me, on the second intermission, “today would be a great day to get number 40, sid.  then we can make puns about your middle name.”

  • me, five minutes later: “SIDNEY HATTRICK CROSBY!!!!!!!!111111!!!!!”

  • sidney you are filthy.  your line is filthy…  i just, i can’t even.

  • when trocheck was hugging horny during that little spat, it seriously looked like he was saying, “please, horny, keep me.  i just want to come home to pittsburgh where there’s snow and play for the pens and go to the playoffs, i know that you can do it, horny, please, you’re my only hope, i will babysit your kid.”

  • i don’t like the name ‘sid and the kids.’  they are the demon line, as named by bob during the edmonton game when bob was drunk.  DEMONS.

  • nothing is better than happy gleeful flower.  nothing.


“Now I think we should have some music,” Mary said, recovering herself as Francis took her hand. “I feel as though I should like to dance.”

Francis bowed low as the musicians struck up their instruments. He had always looked young — his good looks were boyish in a way — but over the last few months, a maturity had come over the king. His blue eyes remained crystal clear and full of love for Mary, but the stresses of the crown showed on him physically. No one else would notice, Mary thought as he took her in his arms and began to move about the room. No one else would see the beginnings of creases around his eyes, around his smile. But Mary saw them. And she loved him all the more because of them.

“That’s a singular expression on your face,” he whispered as they spun across the ballroom, their dance as easy and natural as breathing. “Whatever are you thinking about?”

“You,” she said. Mary was trying terribly hard to make honesty her only policy with Francis. “And how handsome you look tonight.”

“I could only ever be a frame to a piece of art such as you,” he replied, smiling at his own compliment as Mary laughed. “I haven’t heard that sound nearly often enough lately. I should like to hear you laugh at least once a day.”

“Let’s make a promise,” she said, watching half a dozen other happy couples join them in the dance. We will make each other laugh every day.”

He buried his face in her hair and inhaled, taking in her delicate rose scent. “Sometimes it’s hard to find things to laugh about, isn’t it?” he said.

“It is,” Mary replied. “But that’s why we have each other, to remind each other of what is important.”

“How about this,” Francis said. “I promise never to forget what is important.”

“It’s officially a promise,” she answered. Francis grabbed her by the waist and lifted her high above his head, spinning her around before bringing her back down to the ground and pausing to press his lips quickly against hers.

anonymous asked:

Ardyn's phone suddenly vibrates. When he opens it, he'll see a text from an anonymous source with a picture of him and Kefka together attached to it.

Wonderful picture. Disgruntling angle, however. His best features are not nearly bright enough to show their true worth. Though the initial inspection captures a smile; it quickly fades upon a closer look. 

So he had a stalker? Not the first. The chancellor rolls his eyes upward as he considers a response. He wets his lips with the back of his tongue and smirks to himself.

[Text@ 16;32pm] : I would advise in future you snap your photos closer. Otherwise, you fail to capture my boyish good looks.

so there are new pictures of colin for an interview of bridget jones’s baby in london.

source of pics is from CFAddicted on facebook, twitter, and instagram.

he looks good, right? yeah, until @harttwin decides to fight me by pointing out how his boots (fucking good boots) are brown and that his outfit is blue/grey/black. but she said again that his pants are brown instead.

but the point is, he looks good. and LOOK AT THAT FUCKING HAIRCUT. i feel like he’s been getting fashion advice from taron again.