Stolen from ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rydra_wong and I'm not sure whether I'll have anythingt o say or not, but I figured I'd give it a go:
Give me a character and I will give you some kind of meta about their relationship with their physical body (and/or how that relates to their sex life).
rydra_wong and I'm not sure whether I'll have anythingt o say or not, but I figured I'd give it a go:Give me a character and I will give you some kind of meta about their relationship with their physical body (and/or how that relates to their sex life).
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She loves that she looks good in her dress uniform, that it makes her feel strong and accomplished and part of something important. She loves the way her hair brushes against her bare shoulders in the summer.
She loves the way her muscles feel relaxed and elastic after she's been working out or running (or having sex). She loves how her bare feet feel in the sand with the waves running over her toes, she loves the way she feels warm and soft when she wakes up in the morning. She loves the smattering of freckles at the bottom of her spine that she can't even see, she loves the faint pink tinge her skin gets if she's out in the sun too long, she loves how her skin feels when her lover's curled up with her, cuddled close and happy.
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He's heard every short joke there is, every 'got it where it counts' and 'just on the right level to-' and 'easy to dodge flying bullets.' Some of them are true, and some of them are why he has the best suggestive eyebrow raise of anyone in Atlantis, and none of them matter. He's who he is, short guy, brown hair, scars and old broken bones and a piercing that's long closed up.
And also: yeah, he does got it where it counts.
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Elizabeth Weir
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So, Elizabeth: in school and college, she played a lot of sport. Tennis and skating and lacrose, hockey for the semester her school ran it. She swam, she ran, she did ballet, she learned to ballroom dance. It was part of how she made sense of herself, how she understood who she was.
By the time she got to Atlantis, she was down to just running, maybe some yoga if she was somewhere she could find a class, or swimming if there was a pool. She got some looks from the marines when they passed her, only ever admitted the length of her route to John. She felt like part of the Atlantis running fraternity, one of only a handful of non-military personnel who ran regularly. By that point, she's not sure whether the running is about her mind or her body or her little space where she's just one more person running. It feels good, that's all that matters.
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But that's okay! Because this is lovely! I like athletic!Elizabeth, which I rather imagine she was.
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Again...sorry...
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If Jack wasn't based in Washington, missing out on the excitement and adventure, buried under paperwork and having to wear his dress uniform to work every day, he might say that his body is a constant reminder that he's getting old. Unfortunately, he doesn't really need the reminder, and it's not like he isn't fit.
For his age, as his doctor never refrains from mentioning.
But he notices: when he doesn't run as far as he used to, when old broken bones ache with the cold, when he needs his glasses for more than just reading. When he's lying in his bed, lights off, alone with his hand on his dick and he can't get there. Or, worse, can't get it up in the first place. Then, his body's as much a reminder that he's alone as anything else, and a poor case for the fear that he's going to die that way too.
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I think Daniel and a bit of viagra could do his 'old bones' a ton of good!
Thanks Chica. *hugs*
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Chin thinks about his body in relation to the things it touches, more than anything else. The feel of his bike under him, of the water around him when he's spear-fishing. The way his gun fits in his hand, the burn of hot oil splashing up from a pan when he's making dinner. The heat of the sun, the cool dampness of unexpected showers.
Kono's presence at his shoulder, right where she's been all her life. Danny's back slaps. Malia curled against him in the night, warm and snug in the dark. Steve next to him in the water, more often than not. Lori's arms around his waist when he gives her a ride on his bike. Himself, defined in the space between the people and the things that he loves, the ones he wouldn't know what to do without.