Long bones. Long, long bones. The second most interesting long bones Jane Rizzoli possesses (can you guess what other interestingly long bones she has?). Did I feel you shiver. Well, you should because dayum, if you could have those legs wrapped around your head wait, what?
Although it’s not really in her character, it’s a shame that we don’t often see Jane wearing skirt ‘coz when she does… cf. picture above. BAM, legs pregnant. You want to lick those light milk chocolate tanned limbs from the bottom to the top.
I need a shower.
Tidy round your desk and chair, tidy tidy everywhere, tidy farts and whitey butts, I can see your underwear!,you quietly hum as you watch Jane The Rizzoli shake her thang to the silly melody. Maura Isles may have one of Boston’s finest derrière, but Jane Rizzoli is a close second, or a challengingly tied first place. I mean, you and I both have seen what those ass cheeks look like in a spandex, in a skirt, even in her slightly too large working pants.
I need another cold shower.
Let’s take a second to appreciate the badge and belt.
Haaa. The abs. ZE abs. The ones you would want to lick whipped cream on. The ones you’ve been dying to put your cheek against. The ones that nearly give you sudden death when Jane flashes them (extra bonus if badge on belt). The ones most likely Maura scrapes her nails against when… I need a cold shower.
(I need another cold shower.)
Although Maura has the undeniable Rack of God, Jane has no reason to be ashamed of her own chest configuration. I mean, look at them.
Look at them.
Plus Maura doesn’t seem to mind.
Arm porn is still a thing. You may or may not be familiar with Lindsay Boxer (Jane’s AU twin or younger self). Please allow me.
Feeling hot and bothered yet?
Bonus: finger pointing.
I could press about her scars, how they are a reminder of how strong she is and a constant proof of her wild survival instincts. I could hypothesis on how much flailing they would be if Jane were to ever play piano. But I’ll just stick to the most important.
If you know what I mean.
That splint chin. I want to put my finger (or my tongue) on it. Is it just me, or?
Face and dimples
*so so dead*
*dimples dying a million times*
Widely refered to as “chocolate brown eyes” in any fanfiction. Das because chocolate is delish.
Eye-sex alert: please be considerate with your surroundings. Passive eye-sex can result in widespread pregnancies and WE CANNOT TAKE ANY MORE BABY FEELS RIGHT NOW BECAUSE ASDFGHJKL.
Such dark mane. So capillary kuddos. Wow stud hair.
Thank you for your attention. You may return to a normal activity.
What happened to the human lie detector/genius brought in to analyze Hoyt’s minute and guarded facial expressions a few years earlier? Because that person would not fall for this. The only aspect of her genius that they’re really retaining lately is her shtick of cutting & pasting some medical dictionary entry into the conversation so Jane can go “lol wut”.
When I think about my ships in my head and talk about them on tumblr, all of my thoughts are organized and everything makes sense. But, as soon as I try to explain it to my friends in real life, I don’t even say real words and I end up just saying at the end “THEY ARE IN LOVE AND THEY BELONG TOGETHER”