I just have to tell you, you have such a gorgeous way with words, and I am in love with the ways you describe Dean. First it was freckles in leather, then it was whiskey-and-pine eyes (I'm obsessed with that phrase), and in Pure it was "eyes that looked like deep-afternoon sunlight filtered through August leaves." These descriptions just take my breath away! You are a very talented writer, and I will read everything you write!
(I’m publishing this so I can keep it FOREVER AND EVER !)
THANK YOU! I love Dean, I love him so so much. And YES, let us discuss all of the pleasing physical attributes of Dean shall we?
Let’s talk about those shoulders. (The dark angel gif was made by the amazingly talented canoncanoff. It’s from Dark Angel, but ARE ANY OF YOU COMPLAINING? I think not.) Look at little Wee!Jensen. Even as a teenager he has these broad shoulders, even the BONES of his frame are wide and strong. As an adult, he has these amazing shoulders, shoulders that would make Michelangelo itch to pick up a chisel and do a Study Of Dean. Dean has shoulders wide enough to shoulder responsibility of the whole damn world, wide enough for someone to find shelter in, strong enough to rebuild a car and behead a vamp and dig a grave. His shoulders are perfect, and make my brain go hnnng.
And just LOOK at his obliques! As many (many) have pointed out, Dean/Jensen does not have a chiseled washboard six pack. I love it. He is slightly soft (NOT chubby, just… soft) but look at the outside of his abdomen; that upside-down U shape is the outline of his obliques, and they are unf. This is the belly of a man who likes beer more than cardio, but is still incredibly active. This is the body of a man who could piston his hips into yours over and over and over until your brain is mush and your body is a tight instrument that is playing whatever tune Dean pleases.
These are thighs you could bite. These are thighs I would pay to bite. Again, while these aren’t the lean thighs of a swimmer or a distance runner, these are the kind of thighs that would be really great at supporting a hot, fast bout of up-against-the-wall nooky; a girl could wrap her legs around his waist and let him take care of the rest. These thighs can outrun ghouls and other creatures that stalk the night; these thighs can help kick though solid wood doors, these thighs would be PERFECT to snuggle between and watch the night sky. I have feelings about those beautiful thick bowlegs. Feelings.
And finally, his PERFECT, PER-fucking-FECT face. It’s weathered over the years and ONLY BECOME BETTER. He has little crows feet forming at the corner of his eyes from worrying about Sam and laughing at whatever he could; these are wrinkles earned through living life to the fullest. He has freckles, little sun drops kissed across beautiful high cheek bones. His jaw, OH GOD HIS JAW, it’s tough enough to take a hit or three, beautifully accented by a little bit of scruff, and almost as tough and determined as Dean himself.
Dean’s lips (especially that sinfully full bottom one, Jesus) look like porn when wrapped around a beer bottle, would know just what to do with a lady’s legs bracketing his ears, and make me want to nibble on them.
Dean’s eyes… really, the word “green” is not an accurate description of these eyes. His eyes… they’re the gold-flecked moss of a fairy pool in the sun, the amber color of Tennessee’s finest, they can shift to the hue of a midwest sky right before a twister hits, or the warm buttery depths of Indian Summer sun filtering through broad oak leaves. His irises can shift between a deep whiskey gold to almost pine colored, and god do they have depth. They’ve seen what goes bump in the night, they’ve seen hell and blood and death and the end of hope. And yet they can sparkle and laugh still, after everything, and usually they are laughing while looking at Sam, because that’s the focus, that’s what this is about.
lizblogging, thank you for giving me an excuse to objectify Dean. Mmm. I just love this man.