we tell ourselves stories to live

Well friends, it looks like we are coming to the true end of an era. Michael is leaving NCIS and with him, the chance for canon closure on our ship. Not that canon (or lack thereof) has ever stopped us from writing and rewriting the lives of our favorite characters, but now we know there will not be any new material to work with. I, for one, have been struggling with finding motivation to write for tiva, only made more difficult by that lack of new material. Opening my draft folder is depressing. Shari and I were discussing recently the hopeless state of our draft files and the insurmountable task of actually finishing those stories…likelihood: never. In that vain, we’ve come up with a project idea: FIC AMNESTY We’d like to challenge ourselves and all of you to purge your drafts. Surrender your stories. Post your unfinished work (*gasp!*). Every ficlet, drabble, headcanon, etc. Let’s post them all, with the caveat: WE ARE OK WITH THESE WORKS NEVER BEING FINISHED. Start today, start tomorrow, start 3 months from now. Doesn’t matter. The purpose is to give us each a closure in our work. Does this mean people who post their unfinished work will never write for tiva again? Maybe. Not necessarily. Yes. No. I don’t know. Not the point… But what it does mean is these works, whatever is posted, can remain unfinished without regret or guilt. Amnesty. Let’s do this, friends. Post. Tag you work: tiva fic amnesty 2016 If you want, tag me and @sharilynn87. Tag your friends or people who you know want to see your work. Let’s come together again as a fandom and give each other the absolution and closure we deserve. xo, Jenn & Shari   

Coinkydink?

reading fics in bed like

Need to be alone but need support too? Pocket friends.

Something awful just happened and there’s nobody around for you to tell? Pocket friends.

Need to let your feelings out but don’t want people to see you ugly-cry? Pocket friends.

Written as part of the Olicity Secret Santa 2016 and as a gift to @almondblossomme, original post can be found here: (x) and the masterlist of holiday fic/art/graphic/etc goodness here: (x) 

Special thanks to @mcgeekle, @sugarymaps, and @sharilynn87 for being my midnight idea catchers, real time beta beauties, and all around gold medal friendship winners. 

In the style of 5:1; five times olicity could have met during the holidays, and the one they finally get to celebrate. Loosely based on every cheesy holiday movie in existence.

i.

If there is one thing Felicity Smoak prides herself on, it’s her follow-through. Well, that and her hacking ability. She’s an excellent hacker. Not that hacking is her favorite word per se, but it’s not what it looks like in the movies – greasy-haired boys with equally greasy faces illuminated by LCD screens, Cheeto-covered fingers and Code Red–stained mouths, mumbling to themselves about nuclear warheads and whether Black Canary could take Green Arrow in hand-to-hand combat. Her money was on Black Canary, but that’s beside the point.

Felicity Smoak prefers to hack in a well-lit coffee shop with an endless supply of triple shot caramel of course I want whip, what kind of place are you running here? lattes, a carefully crafted mix of Massive Attack and The Bird and The Bee playing steadily through her headphones, and the finely honed ability to blend into the background she’s been perfecting since childhood. And yes, hacking may be just this side of illegal, but other than the one extremely unfortunate incident in college involving Homeland Security and a now intimate knowledge of the Patriot Act, Felicity is a hacker for good.

A hacktivist, of sorts.

Which is why she’s standing outside a Toys-R-Us on a particularly chilly Thanksgiving night, waiting for the doors to open and anticipated chaos ensue. Well, that and she has a plan she intends to follow through on.

Felicity’s hopping from one foot to another, rubbing her mittened hands together for warmth when she knocks into the man in front of her. Accident prone might be third on the list of things Felicity is excellent at being, although more a source of embarrassment than pride. Such as now, when the man turns toward her and oh, wow. She’s not sure she’s seen anyone that pretty up close. Or maybe she should say beautiful. Pretty doesn’t quite cover all of that . And woah doggie is it a lot of pretty.

The man’s confused puppy face clues her in that her other not-so-favorite attribute, uninhibited and generally not suitable for work babbling, has commenced. She’s 99% sure her inner soliloquy became monologue, and if the earth were to open and swallow her whole, well that would be just fine.