anywhere in the universe

as a lover of Women Fighting & Killing media it's so important to me when they actually let the women look like shit. you know what i mean. like im so bored when a woman is in what's supposed to be a brutal fight and her hair is just aesthetically tousled or something and her makeup is still pristine. fuck offfff. if she's beating the shit out of someone and fighting for her life she should be covered in blood n bile she should look like she got hit by a truck and the truck exploded

Sex scene as character study is so good. What is your relationship to your body? What is your relationship to your partner? What lessons have you absorbed from the culture about yourself as a sexual being? How much do you have to trust someone before being comfortable with intimacy? What fears and insecurities come to the fore for you when you take your clothes off? It's so good.

How do they communicate? How do they expect others to communicate? How well do they understand their body and their own capacity for pleasure? What do they tend to do to make their partner feel comfortable? How comfortable are they showing emotion in front of others? How much insight do they have into what their own emotions mean and are connected to? What are they focused on during the encounter? How conscious are they of exchanges of power and vulnerability? very very very good

it’s so special to me that so much of fan culture is textual analysis for the love of the game. like thank god there are people in my phone who are also thinking about this thing i love so much that they are writing transformative fiction as character studies and setting clips of the show to music with theme-relevant lyrics and writing long text posts analyzing every line of dialogue like!! yay!!!

thinking about how jane and lisbon were both traumatized people who protected themselves by leaving, but in each other, found someone worth staying for.

I love you, crowsfeet; I love you, gray hairs; I love you, sun spots; I love you, smile lines; I love you, crinkle between my eyebrows; I love you, crooked smile; I love you, visible signs of a life lived