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@directorsheels-blog
( @handpiicked )
A FEW BRISK STRIDES TAKES her from the foot of the stairs to the center of the squad room; she stands at the corner of DiNozzo’s desk in Jethro’s central hub and looks around for a brief assessment of the current state of this team made up of her star agents. But none of them seem to be around -- that is, until Agent Todd rounds a corner. Jenny nods in acknowledgment, a small but professional smile flickering faintly across her features. Jethro had told her that Agent Todd is a good agent and she has not disappointed. But Jenny hasn’t had the chance to really talk to Todd yet, and, while popping by in the middle of an investigation is probably not the best place to strike up a friendly, workplace conversation, she thinks maybe she might chance it.
‘Agent Todd,’ she begins, taking a few steps forward, ‘how are things going with the case?’
but i am what i am. woman. alone amid all this noise.
Sonia Sanchez, from “Personal Letter No. 2,” Shake Loose My Skin: New and Selected Poems (via words-and-coffee)
directorsheels.
like this if you dig jen’s haircut and/or want a starter.
( @gemcityisms | starter call )
AT LEAST ONCE a week, that itch she can’t quite scratch makes an unwelcome appearance. Sometimes it’s not just an itch, but an ache - a longing - for some action. She loves her job, and she’s good at it, but she misses the excitement of the field. And this itch sometimes catapults her up out of her office and down to the squad room.
Once again, she finds herself checking to see if Jethro is anywhere to be seen and, finding his desk empty and the squad room Gibbs-free, she decides that it’s safe to stick her nose where it doesn’t belong, and walks down the stairs to stand directly in front of Agent McGee’s desk.
‘McGee,’ she barks, without prelude, and then orders, ‘Progress report on the investigation.’
If she can’t be in the field, she can at least let Gibbs’ team tell her about it.
( @fiiverounds | starter call )
IT’S BEEN SUCH a long time since she’s been in London, and even longer since she’s been able to have a few hours to herself; of course, those hours will come later. She’s already planning her afternoon - a trip to the National Gallery, maybe the Tate Britain, and perhaps a walk through Regent’s Park... First, she’s got to get through this luncheon.
After meetings and briefings all morning, this mid-afternoon gathering is testing her skills as a diplomat for her agency to the breaking point. But she retains a genial air and an amicable smile as she turns to the woman next to her in order to strike up a conversation.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve actually been introduced yet. I’m Jennifer Shepard, from NCIS.’
saving screencaps from hiatus pts 1 & 2 more like what fresh hell is this.
( @lovedtombs | starter call )
A SKEPTICAL GLANCE is thrown the woman’s way; Jenny can’t say for certain what it might be, but there is something that doesn’t quite add up. Call it INTUITION, or her gut, or the aftereffects of years spent in the field, but she’s not about to take things at face value. ‘Can you run that by me again?’
( @marinescoffee | starter call )
HOUSES ARE FUNNY THINGS. Oftentimes, they express something unspeakable about the people who inhabit them. And sometimes, they say things about their owners that their owners would rather left unsaid. Take hers, for instance: inherited, in the family for years, too ornate and too grand for just one person, but she insists on keeping it. Of course, it’s not her house that she walks through now. This one is just as quiet, just as empty, just as sad, and there are haunting memories that she can’t understand but she knows must be gathering dust in the corners.
She wends her way to the only place in his house that seems to have a semblance of life. She’s halfway down the basement stairs before she clears her throat to announce her presence. And she doesn’t speak until she’s standing above him and the skeleton of his boat.
‘The door was unlocked,’ she begins, explaining her presence, if not her purpose. It’s not exactly a social call. ‘I brought food. Chinese.’
like this if you dig jen’s haircut and/or want a starter.
MARVEL’S JESSICA JONES sentence meme. or, send ╳ for a random sentence that my muse will say to yours.
“I usually like a little more romancing.”
“Would you put day drinking under ‘Experience’ or ‘Special Skills’?”
“I’m scared for you.”
“I’ve been asking the impossible of you, I see that now.”
“Now, that sounded like flirting to me.”
“Don’t… have feelings, okay?”
“Hey, last night was fun, but that doesn’t mean I want your opinion.”
“Again, I don’t flirt, I just say what I want.”
“Yes, you are a paragon of mental health.”
“I’m tired of missing you.”
“You think you can take your shit and dump it one me? You don’t get to do that. So you take your goddamned pain, and you live with it, asshole!”
“Knowing it’s real means you’ve got to make a decision. One, keep denying it. Or two, do something about it.”
“We get it, you’re a real gift to humanity.”
“You still get points for doing good.”
“I want you to know, I forgive you for everything. I’ll say it every day. For as long as you need to hear it.”
“If this is a booty call, I like your chances.”
“God damn you. Just had to be a hero, didn’t you?”
“You are a hard-drinking, short-fused, mess of a person. But you are not a piece of shit.”
“When you wake up, I won’t be around to screw up your life anymore.”
“I don’t get asked on a lot of second dates.”
“I can’t risk you.”
“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?”
“You shoot at me, I’ll pull the bullet out of my ruined jacket and shove it up your ass with my pinky finger, and who do you think that’s going to hurt more?”
“Don’t apologize. I don’t want that from you.”
“I was never the hero that you wanted me to be.”
“You’re exactly the hero I wanted you to be.”
“I don’t give a bag of dicks about what kinky shit you’re into, just be into it quietly.”
“It’s people like you that give people like you a bad name.”
“I let you fight my battles for too long.”
“The way I see it, most people go both good and bad going on. Just depends on which part wins that day.”
“They say that talking about a trauma… that it helps.”
“You help people. That’s who you are.”
“I thought about you. I knew it wouldn’t happen. I couldn’t help it. Picturing us.”
“You’re the first person I ever pictured a future with.”
“They say everyone’s born a hero. But if you let it, life will push you over the line until you’re the villain.”
“I’m life threatening. Steer clear of me. Please.”
“You’ve never loved anyone. You’re not even capable of it.”
“I hate feeling this way, I don’t know how you handle it.”
“Do what you’ve got to do.”
‘i take it walking in my HEELS has presented a challenge.’ independent, private jenny shepard from ncis. written by kylie.
marinescoffee replied to your post
no.
that’s funny i thought you just said no but that can’t be right because i’m your boss
#KICKS IN THE DOOR
THERE’S A SUDDEN CRACK as the door of her office bursts open unceremoniously; she doesn’t even have to glance from the screen of her computer to figure out who it is. Her lips thin in tacit annoyance as she pointedly finishes reading a report from the agent afloat on the USS Shiloh without greeting her impatient visitor.
She can practically feel his stare boring into her brain, but she doesn’t look up. If he’s going to act like he owns the place, it’s the least she can do to remind him of who’s working for whom. Her eyes slide absentmindedly over the final two paragraphs of the report, not truly registering what she’s reading, because she can’t help but feel that familiar thrum in her chest whenever he appears unexpectedly. It’s the promise of something out of the ordinary. A problem, perhaps, that he can’t quite solve? A question about a case that needs clearing up? They never just chat ( although she’d be happy to oblige him, should he ever wish to strike up an innocuous conversation unrelated to their respective jobs ); it’s always something interesting. Dangerous, even. And sitting behind a desk has made her miss the field more than she had ever thought possible.
But finally, she figures that she’s made him wait long enough. She’s sure he’s rolled his eyes, maybe even grunted a time or two, but after all the effort she’d exuded when scolding him this morning for his bad workplace manners, it’s nice to see that he took the hint.
She removes her glasses with a slow, gentle motion, and turns her face towards him with a satisfied smirk. ‘Special Agent Gibbs. How can I help you?’
TAG DROP!
i. she lives in futures cities and distant memories; she speaks in rhyme and thinks in song (in hymn) (in psalm). ii. she sees mountains crumble and empires topple; she dreams of ruins and hopes for rain (for divinity) (for faith). iii. she believes in salvation and righteous indignation; she rages at gods and smirks at false idols (false prophets) (false disciples). iv. she loves as an afterthought and yet forethought; she worships heavens and appreciates you (accepts you) (forgets you). v. she saves sinners; you kill God.
nothing crueller; sr (via butbetheserpent)