#in BIG fandoms you usually get some heavy hitters and you can sort fic down to what you're looking for

[curls-cat]

nothing like a medium sized fandom to make you realize that the most popular fic isn't usually the best written

[flowers-creativity]

Fic: The One Bed Job

Fandom:  Leverage

Characters: Eliot Spencer, Parker, Alec Hardison

Warnings: None

Summary: A rainstorm forces Eliot, Parker and Hardison to take shelter in a cabin in the woods. There is only one problem ...

Notes: Written for Spud (@callipygianspud) for the @leverage-secret-santa-exchange with the prompts “Parker/Hardison/Eliot, oh no one bed?!?!, slice of life bickering”.

There are a lot of firsts in this story for me, most notably that it's my first Leverage fic ever! It was a lot of fun working on it - thanks to the mods of the Leverage Secret Santa Exchange for organising this 😊.

I’m late in posting it because I missed that the authors had been revealed but finally, here it is on my blog, too.

AO3 link

Eliot threw the truck into park and stared out the windshield at the desolate view: a cabin in the middle of the woods, looking small and forlorn in the wind that had been picking up speed over the last hour. Rain was driving diagonally across the picture, and he didn't want to make any bets on how long it would be until it was going fully horizontal. “Damn it, Hardison, that's the best you can do?”

“Hey man, you wanna try finding a place to stay in the middle of nowhere during a rainstorm, with no advance warning?” Hardison twisted in his seat and stabbed a finger at him. “I'm not freaking clairvoyant, couldn't have known it woulda hit so hard!”

“Yeah, well, always actin' like you are,” Eliot growled as he unbuckled his seat belt. There was no use arguing, they were out of other options. Not that it would stop him from doing it anyway. “C'mon, let's look at that rat's nest you found for us.”

“No appreciation, man,” Hardison mumbled. He took off his seat belt, then twisted around and nudged the lump that was Parker on the backbench, just a shock of blonde hair peeking out from under the blanket she'd wrapped herself in. “Hey mama, we're here. Time to wake up!”

The lump protested sleepily but finally uncurled to reveal the thief who stretched and yawned mightily. “Where's here?” she asked.

“Cabin in the woods,” Hardison said. “Storm's getting pretty bad, so Eliot wanted to stop driving. Never mind that we're in a Faraday cage,” he added, raising his voice so the hitter just about to close the driver's side door could hear him, “but apparently the only thing frightening big bad Spencer is some lightning. Can't hit that, eh?”

“Hardison,” Eliot said grumpily, pulling the door open again, “you wanna wrap the car around a tree 'cause you can't see with the rain comin' down so hard, be my guest.”

Parker snorted and leaned forward to give Hardison a quick peck on the nose. “He's got a point there,” she pointed out.

Eliot flashed her a quick look of thanks, fighting down the incongruous urge to have a corner of his mouth tick up. It wasn't a smile; it wasn't. And it wasn't a problem that his face constantly wanted to do that around those two lately. He finally slammed the door shut and switched on the heavy-duty flashlight he kept in the truck's cabin at all times. He more sensed than heard the passenger side's door opening and the other two hustling after him as he made his way towards the cabin, the rain soaking him down to the skin within moments.

The door was locked; he contemplated it for a moment, then stepped aside. “Parker, do your thing,” he commanded, directing the beam of light onto the lock. She gave a quick sound of delight and dove forwards with her lock picks appearing in her hands like magic. That lock wouldn't take her more than five seconds, he knew, but even that was probably a treat for her after an exhausting job that had her do most of the grifting. No matter how much she had grown and learned since they had become a team, coming into her own in both the grifter and the mastermind role, she would never love it as much as she did the jobs where she could be what she really was, a cat burglar and safecracker.

It was maybe eight seconds until the lock clicked and Parker stood back up. She frowned a bit at the door as she pocketed her lock picks. “Sorry, I'm off my game,” she said.

Hardison huffed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Don't be ridiculous, babe, you're fine. A bit tired, that's all.”

Eliot nodded and gave her a quick pat on the back before he pushed open the door and went ahead into the cabin. “Stay here,” he told them as he swept the flashlight's beam through the room.

Hardison rolled his eyes so hard Eliot could hear it even though he had his back turned. “No need to unpack the guard dog routine, El,” he said, and another flashlight beam joined his. “It's a cabin in the middle of the woods. If there's anything dangerous, it'll be a bunch of spiders or a raccoon at best. C'mon, I wanna get inside and get dry.”

Eliot flashed him a nasty grin over his shoulder. “You're the geek, tell me how many horror movies there are that look just like this,” he said. “And how the black guy usually does in them.”

“Damn, man, don't you use pop culture against me, that's just wrong,” Hardison complained.

Parker snorted a laugh, still leaning against Hardison's side. “We'll protect you, Eliot and I,” she told him earnestly, then slipped from his arm and had his flashlight in her hand a blink of an eye later. “I'll help him make the security sweep, and you find out if there's electricity.”

Hardison sighed in defeat and waved them off, shaking his head. “Then go do what you gotta do.”

“Nice to know we have your approval,” Eliot said with a smile that was all teeth and very little warmth (no matter that he wanted to put a lot more into it). Nevertheless, he didn't further protest Parker's joining him and sent her off to check one of the two doors leading from the main room while he finished sweeping its meager contents – a small table with two rickety chairs, a wood stove and an old cupboard that held a little bit of crockery, a battered pot and a few cans of soup. He left Hardison to poke around near the stove, mumbling to himself about barbaric conditions and using his phone as a flashlight, and headed for the second door.

It didn't take much time to determine that this was the bathroom, such as it was, and little more to check the shabby toilet and sink – they worked, which was probably the best they could hope for. When he emerged back into the main room, he found that Parker had just done so, too, and was now perched on the table. For once he could not fault her for her propensity never to sit on a chair like a normal person; the table looked like a much safer bet.

“That's the bedroom,” she reported immediately once she caught sight of him coming back, pointing at the room she had checked. “Nothing there but a lot of dust and spiderwebs.” She grinned brightly. “Only one bed, though. We'll have to snuggle close, it's not very big.”

“Wa---” Eliot was vaguely aware that he was standing there gaping like a moron but his mind was stuck on Parker talking about snuggling in one bed.

“Huh, what was that, Eliot?” Hardison had abandoned whatever he had been doing with the stove – couldn't have been lighting a fire, he severely doubted Hardison could do that – and came over, leaning against the wall next to the table with Parker on it, both of them weirdly illuminated by the display light of Hardison's phone.

Eliot finally marshaled his thoughts enough to grind out: “I'm sure you'll be fine for one night. I'll take the floor.” Parker must have been talking about herself and Hardison anyway, no reason to assume that she wanted to snuggle with him – even if his traitorous heart had done just that.

Parker frowned. “What? No, you won't,” she said with a shake of her head. “Not when there's a bed and no reason for you to be on watch. We'll fit in there the three of us.”

“Wha-- Dammit, Parker, you can't just get into bed with any man!” Eliot protested.

“Fine, then Hardison and you can take the floor.” She folded her arms over her chest and stared at him, the challenge more conveyed by her tone than by her expression he couldn't see too clearly in the gray light on her face. Next to her, Hardison made an outraged sound, just as Eliot sputtered:

“What? No, why should Hardison sleep on the floor?”

“Well, if I can't get in bed with any man, then I can't get in bed with you two, since you're both men,” she said with a shrug, in that tone that clearly said that she thought she was being perfectly reasonable.

“But he's not any man,” Eliot pointed out, “he's your boyfriend.”

“Okay,” she said, cocking her head to the side in one of those moves that made her look sort of like a bird, “but you're not any man, too. You're Eliot. My--” she broke off, gave a short sideways glance to Hardison and then continued: “Our-- You're Eliot. So you can come, too.”

Eliot sputtered again, and how did she always manage to have that effect on him? He was Eliot goddamn Spencer, he was always in control, but she stole it from him as easily as pick-pocketing a watch was for her, with nothing more than a few words and looks. He desperately looked to Hardison. “Back me up here, c'mon, man!”

Hardison, the son of a bitch, just shrugged, his teeth white in the dim light as he grinned. “You heard the lady,” he said, “you're not any man, so you can get in bed with her, I mean, with us, any time.”

“I-- But--!” Eliot raked his left hand through his hair, casting around for the right thing to say, to make sense of these words in a way that didn't make warmth spread through his chest and … somewhere else that had made a very specific sense of it and was sitting up and taking notice. In the back of his mind, another part was busy pointing out that in a way, any man was probably better to have in your bed than Eliot Spencer. It was surprisingly easy to disregard this voice, though, just as Parker and Hardison disregarded his words whenever he pointed it out to them. He had told them so a hundred, a thousand times, even had shown them glimpses of it a few times – the swimming pool, probably even the warehouse, despite Nate's promise not to tell anyone – and they had always sailed past it without the slightest worry despite what he had been, what he still was. And he knew it was true: whatever danger he presented, it never was a danger connected to his past. Only to a present that he held sacred in his heart like a talisman, like he had held preciously little since he had lost faith in God and the American flag and whatever else he had believed in once upon a time.

“Helloo-ho!” Hardison suddenly loomed up in front of him, his face just inches away from him. “Earth to Eliot!”

Eliot honest to God flinched and took a step back. “Dammit, Hardison!”

The hacker raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “You back with us, man?” He looked him over seriously. “Honestly, I'm starting to think you're getting sick. You're usually more with it than that.”

Eliot took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face. “I'm fine,” he gritted out. He let his shoulders slump down. Sleeping in one bed it was. “You had any luck with that stove?” he asked Hardison in a bid of hopefully redirecting the conversation.

Hardison shrugged. “Not really, there's some old ashes and half-burnt wood in it but I don't have a lighter. I'm sure you can get it going, right? Don't tell me you haven't been a Boy Scout, too.”

“Nope.” Eliot hoped the relief and eagerness with which he fell into their banter was not too obvious. “Army boot camp's better than that, anyway. Plus, y’know, spending lots of time in the actual wilderness, not some parent's backyard.” He dug into one of his pockets for a lighter and wandered over to the stove, angling the flashlight beam into the open compartment.

Parker had her chin in her hands as she watched him with her usual Parker intensity. “Backyards sound boring,” she agreed. “But you should take us camping some time! We can throw Hardison off a cliff instead of a building!”

This time it was Hardison who was sputtering, and Eliot couldn't resist, he laughed, a bark that reverberated deep in his chest. “That's a great idea, darlin',” he drawled, grinning at the hacker.

“Now that's just unfair! Two against one! And no one's throwing Hardison off any cliffs, are we clear? Are we clear?”

Parker pouted at him. “Aww. You went on that fishing trip with Eliot, didn't you? I want to do something like that with you, too, with both of you.”

Eliot scowled at the reminder of how their fishing trip hadn't happened after that stand-off with a white supremacist militia. “Not exactly like that, preferably,” he growled under his breath. Louder, he said, “I think Hardison had a problem with the cliff thing, not with going on a trip with you, Parker. We can keep that in mind, okay? For now, just let's get through the night.”

In the meantime, he had kept working on the stove, pushing the old ashes to the side and rearranging the partly burnt wood into a neat pile. He looked around for some old paper to start the fire, then reconsidered. The small fire would be pretty useless to heat or light the room.

“Any of you hungry? There's some soup in cans.”

Hardison and Parker exchanged a look, then shook their heads.

Eliot sighed and stood up, brushing off the knees of his jeans. “Then we don't need to bother with the fire. We'd need some candles or a torch for some real light. Don't think it would produce much heat to get the room warm, either.”

Parker shrugged. “I don't have any candles.”

Hardison grinned. “I guess if we're cold, we just need to snuggle close in our bed,” he said, and Eliot's belly did another backflip at the thought of the three of them in one bed together.

Parker laughed and dropped down from her perch on the table, grabbed Hardison's hand, then lunged and did the same with Eliot's. “Come on, I'll show you,” she said brightly and pulled them over to the door she'd discovered the bedroom behind earlier.

“Parker, that's --- Parker, I can walk on my own,” Eliot protested but it was halfhearted at best. He turned towards Hardison but found little sympathy there.

“Just go with the flow,” the hacker told him. “Relax.”

Eliot bit back a retort and instead just took a deep breath, his feet automatically following where Parker led. Relax. As if that was a thing he could do when he was about to get into the same bed as his two best friends. As the two people he-- He-- His thoughts kept stalling but he knew the word that should go there.

In the small bedroom, Parker let go of his hand, and he took in the room and the furniture occupying it, which was just one more of those rickety chairs, with Parker's flashlight on it casting a beam through the shadows, and the bed itself. It was small indeed, and short enough that Eliot guessed Hardison's feet would hang over the edge. Parker and he should be fine – for a certain measure of fine when he was intruding where he didn't belong. Never mind that they seemingly didn't see anything wrong with it, even though they were the couple…

Meanwhile, Parker had taken possession of the bed, pulling back the covers. She looked back at the two men contemplatively, then shrugged and quickly pulled off her shirt, sending it flying toward the chair. At Eliot's spluttered “Parker!”, she shot him an annoyed glare. “What? It's wet,” she explained as she unzipped her pants and shimmied out of them, then threw them after the shirt. Eliot averted his eyes and prayed for strength.

When he looked back, she had slipped under the covers, and Hardison was sitting at the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes and socks, his phone on the quilt next to him. Hardison looked up at him, and his dark eyes were soft in the beam of Eliot's flashlight. “Eliot, man,” he started, then stopped, then started again. “Look, man, you don't have to if you don't really feel comfortab-- Ouch, Parker!” The thief had straightened up and slugged him in the back of the shoulder. “C'mon, he should only do it if he really wants to!”

“But he does!” she hissed at him, then turned towards Eliot. “You want to, right? You want to be with us. Like, here with us.” She gestured between the two of them and then the bed as a whole, and Eliot's heart constricted in his chest. Yes, God, how he wanted to.

“Because we want you, too.” She looked at him hopefully, not bothered in the least that the blankets were pooling in her lap and she was only wearing a simple black sports bra in the cabin's cool air. He tried to look away but couldn't, not when her eyes were holding him captive like that. They wanted him? Just for snuggling in a small, unheated cabin in the middle of nowhere? Or… for something more?

Eliot pushed that thought way back in his mind. He needed to stay in the here and now. And maybe, just maybe, he could just be selfish tonight and take what they were offering. If that was all it was, he would deal with it. Would it be better or worse than never having had any of it? He didn't know.

Hardison was looking at him steadily. “Your decision, El,” he told him, “but we're here. Whenever you're ready, we'll be there.”

And that—that did actually sound like this was more than just a night of snuggling close for warmth. Eliot took a deep breath, closed his eyes and released it. When he opened them again, he nodded. “Yeah,” he said roughly. “Yeah, I'm--” He stopped and decided to give up trying.

Instead, he put his flashlight on the chair next to Parker's, then bent down to untie his boots and quickly stripped off his jeans and his soggy outer layers, leaving him in a mostly dry T-shirt and boxers. A few more steps brought him to the bed where Hardison had joined Parker under the covers, his torso bare. Both of them were looking at him with so much hope that it was the easiest thing in the world to lift the edge of the covers and slip in after them. He smiled at them and said softly, “Hey.”

“Hey you,” Hardison said and as if it was nothing, he put his arm around Eliot's shoulders and pulled him close. From his other side, Parker put her arm across Hardison's body until her small, strong hand rested on Eliot's chest. “I'm glad you're here,” she told him. Then she gave him a short whack. “So now, snuggling and sleep,” she ordered. “The rest can wait until tomorrow.”

Eliot felt his smile grow into a grin and turned it into the crook of Hardison's neck. “Yes, ma'am,” he replied seriously.

And as he crowded closer to Hardison and reached for Parker with an arm across the other man's stomach, Eliot did as any good soldier would do and followed the order given by his leader. It was probably his favorite order of all time.

[maryellencarter]

SO! A week or two ago I got the DVDs for both seasons of "Justice League: The Animated Series", which I hadn't seen in ten years and remembered loving a lot. Spoiler: I still love it a lot. I put off watching it for a while because I was scared I wouldn't, but then I watched it pretty much straight through without even stopping to liveblog.

So. THOUGHTS! ^_^ Any of y'all who've ever shared a fandom with me know I'm always around for one particular character. In this case, that's J'onn J'onzz, the big green guy, whose official comics codename (sensibly not used on the show) is Martian Manhunter.

(There's a bit in one of the tie-in comics where a parent is telling their kid "don't be scared, honey, he won't hurt you, that's the uhh... Martian Maneater..." which has never ceased to amuse me.)

Anyway, we all know I have a tendency to give reviews in the vein of "Good story but no werewolves", and it must be granted that I never did bother watching Justice League Unlimited because Carl Lumbly (J'onn's voice actor, Minnesota born and raised with Jamaican parents, which is apparently how you get a Martian accent I couldn't place to anywhere on Earth) wasn't a regular anymore. But y'know, it's a really good ensemble team too, even if I like Tim Daly's Superman (from Superman: The Animated Series in the same animated universe) a lot better than George Newbern's. Or, well, I did. I haven't heard *him* in ten years either. Anyway! Off topic.

SO ANYWAY. Obviously, spoilers hereabouts, although it's what, fifteen, twenty years old by now? But if you care about spoilers for somewhat elderly TV, you might not be following me anyhow.

So the meta premise, just in case anybody was unfamiliar, is thuswise: First there was Batman: The Animated Series, in which Mark Hamill was the best Joker while not being an asshole as a person, because he is a competent actor and not a dickwad. Then there was Superman: The Animated Series, which I remember as being a delight and I want to watch it again too someday. Then, because apparently if you have Batman and Superman the next step is the entire Justice League, there was this.

The actual premise is, that during an alien invasion of Earth, Superman and Batman rescue a prisoner, J'onn J'onzz, the last survivor of the Martian society the invader aliens wiped out. (J'onn and Clark get little bits of bonding over the last-of-their-kinds thing but I've always wanted more. In a fandom auction I once donated $60 for a fic on the topic, but life happened and I do not hold it against the person. Still a little sad though. It's not something I've ever quite been able to write myself.) J'onn has a whole grab-bag of superpowers including telepathy, with which he summons additional heroes The Flash (speedster, this one is twentyish goofball Wally West), Green Lantern (specifically John Stewart, a black ex-Marine), Wonder Woman, and Hawkgirl (a winged humanoid-alien woman with an energy mace). Together, they fight crime! Mostly.

Specific episodes: I'm going to use "episode" to refer to the runtime covered by a single title so I don't have to say "two-parter" or "three-parter" every single time, because this show had literally only one single-part episode out of the whole 52 episodes.

* Secret Origins, three-parter: In which the Justice League is formed and repels the invasion of Earth by the aliens who wiped out J'onn's people. A very strong start, good character intros. I will never be over the very small worldbuilding fact that J'onn is rescued by Superman and Batman, and has seen nobody else on Earth yet but invader aliens (these are what used to be called the White Martians but the show does not use this name either which I think was a wise choice), so when he shapeshifts from his more alien "natural" Martian form to the look which will be his default for the series, he chooses a briefs-and-cape look because based on the two examples he's seeing, that's what Earth people wear. It's not explicitly called out, but it's a great way to make it a little less... comic-booky that you have no less than three extra-beefy guys with almost identical costume silhouettes here.

I think the arc between Batman and J'onn is one of my favorite parts of this, the way Batman starts out being like "I still don't trust him" and winds up trusting him enough that it's their teamwork which saves the world this go-round. Also, speaking as a fan who likes me some whump, can we talk about the scene where J'onn is being mindprobed with all those tentacles under his skin? I have so fucking many feels about that scene, okay. God, that whole climactic sequence is so damn good. And his tiny lil smile at the end of the last episode! I do love me some microexpressions, nonetheless that they are animated. (I can't draw so I am constantly boggled by just the skill it has to take to draw a character so on-model that varying one line by a few pixels Says Things.)

* In Blackest Night, two-parter: The one where the extremely Kirby-designed cop robots frame Green Lantern into believing he blew up an inhabited planet. Introduces several alien members of the Green Lantern Corps. Flash trying and failing to act as GL's lawyer is fairly embarrassment-squicky to me; many of the things anybody does with Flash on this show are fairly embarrassment-squicky, although he does get some great moments. René Auberjonois does two voices, as a spherical Green Lantern and as the "witness" who helps frame GL. The climactic scene is great -- sometimes the Green Lantern ditty just doesn't work, but between the sound design and the animation and Phil Lamarr's voice acting, this scene blows me away every time. I feel like this one could have been shorter though.

* The Enemy Below, two-parter: In which (blond) Aquaman guest-stars, J'onn takes on the first of many roles where he acts as bait by impersonating a villain's target, and the thing where Aquaman cuts off his own hand to escape a manacle is very tastefully handled for a kids' show. I probably would have found that scene way too suspenseful and traumatic as a kid but I was an extremely sensitive small child. Opinions on this episode: I don't really have many. This universe's Aquaman is a *dick* who appears to live by the rule that you must always fight a superhero when you meet one on the street before explaining your business. I always squee when somebody turns out to be J'onn, because I've usually forgotten. (He usually is people and not animals or, like Odo more than once, a bag. I wonder if he has some conservation of mass thing going on or if it's just easier to animate when you keep your same basic arrangement of limbs.)

* Injustice for All, two-parter: Lex Luthor, dying of kryptonite poisoning, puts together the Injustice Gang to try to destroy the Justice League. He didn't invite the Joker, but Hulk expy and heavy hitter Solomon Grundy is also voiced by Mark Hamill, so the Joker naturally turns up around the point where Luthor captures Batman, commentating on Luthor's misguidedness in keeping Bats alive and generally providing a running peanut gallery. Clancy Brown and Mark Hamill are both always fun, so this one is pretty entertaining.

* Paradise Lost: Wonder Woman backstory-ish episode. A sorcerer turns the other Amazons to stone, then blackmails Diana into stealing four artifacts for him, which he assembles into a key to free the god Hades from Tartarus. Notable mainly for the extreme mangling of Greek mythic cosmology into an aggressively Christian shape. Not good. It does have J'onn and Flash teamed for a bit, which is interesting, and J'onn gets to one-punch a giant magic brass cobra, but that's about all there is to speak for it. It looks like the writer also did my very least favorite two-parter of the whole series, unless this is some sort of Alan Smithee situation, because the name is Joseph Kuhr and I have a half-memory I can't catch that there is *something* more than coincidence in the whole, you know. "Joe-Kuhr" thing?

* War World: Apparently this one was pretty nearly universally hated. I do not hate it, because the concept "Superman and J'onn are accidentally blown across the galaxy together and sold to an alien gladiatorial arena" is something I am 110% down for, but I wanted a lot more interaction between them and possibly a lot more fic. I can't decide if I actually want to ship them, but they're obviously very close and I want to see more than snippets of that, dammit.

That's halfway through season one. Imma go sleep. more later.

[soldouthaz]

I really want to start writing fics because writing has always been a passion of mine, and what better way to use it than to write about and interact with a fandom i'm passionate about as well, right? the problem is that i'm a 'gifted kid' with both adhd and depression, which makes for both lack of motivation and lack of attention span, even if I'm mentally obsessing over what I'm working on, I'll have a lot of trouble actually doing it. (1/2)

On top of that, I tend to back away or give up completely if I don't have an immediate knack for something or if I hit a roadblock of sorts. Do you have any tips for me, and, more specifically, for how to explore your passions even when your brain chemistry is kicking your ass? (2/2)

hi!! what a good question!!! I've always struggled with some of this myself so I'll do my best to give some good advice below the cut!!! 

- just a quick tw for anyone who may be sensitive to topics including depression or other similar mental health conditions! -

(i’ll talk about a few things regarding the adhd/depression and then I'll include some advice at the end for you!!! this got kind of long (sorry!) but if you read anything, make sure it’s the end!)

so this was something I struggled with big time for a while when I first started writing! I don’t have ADHD but I do have OCD, which is also quite the cocktail with depression so I feel your pain! i understand how frustrating it is because writing is very two sided in my experience, meaning on one hand it’s cathartic and eases anxiety, but on the other hand it can induce those negative feelings just as quickly as it got rid of them if you’re too overwhelmed while doing so.

depression is always the heavy hitter for me personally. I can have so many ideas and so much excitement for them and yet when I sit down to write everything seems so overwhelming that I end up backing out of it and leaving it for later for the millionth time. mine is mostly seasonal as well, so i go through periods of time (like these past few months) where i get very unmotivated and don’t write much at all. it’s an annoying cycle to then feel unproductive and know that you want to do it but you don’t do it but you feel like you should etc. etc..

the ADHD (or OCD in my case) seems to always be more of an environment issue for me. I really can only write more than a few sentences once I'm alone in the dead of night, when everyone else is asleep and I'm in control of my surroundings -- for example, the volume (music, fans, tv, etc), position (where I'm sitting, what’s around me), and being comfortable (comfy clothes, blankets, etc). I'm a big sensory person so if something’s even slightly brushing my arm in the wrong way, I can’t get into what I'm doing.

but i also understand what you mean strictly focus wise, when you’re trying to plan out your ideas and just keep jumping from one thing to another! (by the way i love that you mentioned when you're not good at something immediately you tend to give up - i do the same thing!) this is where i’ll try to give you some of the tips that helped me personally!

not too get too sappy, but to me the beauty of writing has always been that there is no right or wrong way to do it. the most difficult part of it is nailing down the fact that you should write for yourself and not simply to get hits or kudos or comments or anything. it should be fun and ultimately rewarding, and if it isn’t, don’t try to force yourself!

this is where the flip side of the adhd/depression + writing debate comes in -- finishing a piece of work can be one of the best feelings in the world, no matter how big or small or if other people enjoy it or not. because now you’ve got something that you can point to and say hey, i did that! i created this thing and put it into the world regardless of the challenges i might have encountered along the way or anyone else’s judgement! and that’s a wonderful feeling, especially if you’re like me when you feel lazy or unproductive half the time and the other half of you is constantly restless, full of energy with no other outlet for it.

so my advice to you would be to start small. it took me months to finish the first fic that i published because i split it up into portions and didn’t force myself if i truly didn’t want to write that day. to elaborate about ‘small’, there’s several different options!

before i got into fandom writing, poetry was the holy grail for me because it didn’t require much effort! i used my phone or the nearest notebook i had to just scribble down my feelings in just a few lines. it helped me feel better quickly just to get it off my chest, it wasn’t time consuming, and there was no planning required so it wasn’t overwhelming to me! poetry is fun to just play around with and you can kind of make up your own rules, so feel free to try that as a warm up or experiment as well!

but you mentioned specifically fics and fandom writing, so there are some options for that as well!

drabbles are a great idea as an intro to writing in my opinion! they’re wonderful practice for finding your ‘writing voice’ and learning which genres and topics you enjoy writing about before diving headfirst into a long fic! if you plan on publishing it, they’re also a great way to set the tone for readers of what your future works will be like! (another exercise similar to this is word prompts, where you choose a random word and just try to write and see what comes out!)

WIPs are fairly controversial, but who cares? if you’ve got something you want to write and you want to publish a chapter indefinitely throughout the year just when you feel like it, go for it! it’s still a creative outlet and it’s still you expressing yourself, which means it’s fully worth it.

that being said, my entire world changed after i started outlining. if you want to write a full fic to be published at once, the most helpful thing is to have a plan. it doesn’t have to be nailed down or perfect, but even just scribbling down some random scene ideas or plot points can help! from there, if you feel like it, you can go as detailed as you want and add things like goal word count, character bios, etc. until it begins to take the shape of a full story!

while keeping all of this in mind, i know i’m stressing it but it’s so important to remember that how you view this can be the change in how all of this pans out. writing for yourself is the goal here -- getting attached to hits or kudos or reblogs only provides temporary validation. it’s nice but it’s not going to give you that emotional payoff.

you mentioned that writing was a passion of yours and writing can be extremely cathartic, especially when you’re writing about an interest or something you love! no part of it should be extremely stressful or make you more anxious than when you started. i honestly can’t recommend it enough, even if you don’t share your first drafts or if you end up scrapping parts of it later on. no matter how long or short it is and no matter if it’s something you think people will read or not.

with depression and ADHD especially, writing is the perfect mix of pushing yourself and achieving goals without going too far, and it’s helped me in my own mental health journey immensely. (most of my works are just emotion-dumps where i use my characters and storylines to cope with whatever’s going on in my current life!) it’s a type of therapy in itself, and to be able to share it in a community of people that view it the same way is just an added bonus! 

speaking more generally regarding your point about trying to enjoy your interests while also dealing with mental health conditions that limit your ability to do so, my go-to method is always just to take it as it comes, or break it down into easier sections to deal with. if i’m doing something and i’m aware of and actively trying to fight an OCD tic (or in your case ADHD behavior), it’s only going to make me more anxious. so my advice would be to take a break and do something comforting to calm down, then return to what you were doing before. we have to remember to be kind to ourselves, especially in this weird time!

conversely, with depression, i try to push myself just slightly. my brain usually wants to give up and shut down and sometimes that’s okay too, but it usually pays off for me if i bargain with myself to keep going or keep trying, like promising myself a nap or some relaxing time if i can finish x amount of whatever i’m working on, if that makes sense. a little bit can go a long way!

ahh sorry, this one kind of got away from me! i’m sorry it’s so lengthy but i hope some part of it resonated with you! the ask touched on a lot of different things so if you need me to clarify anything or elaborate or if you have any more questions, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me again! i also made a post about my writing process a while ago if that’s something you’d be interested in, and this post from the other day has some other tips on dealing with grief/anxiety that may also be helpful for your situation! 

(also, I'd just like to point out that just from your ask alone I can tell you write really well! I would be very interested in reading something of yours in the future!) 

I'm wishing you the best of luck with your first venture into writing and fics, and I'd be more than happy to help you in any way that I can! I can’t wait to see what all you do <33333