ApolloAttraction

Queer + 27 + USA I'm writing my heart out and sending it off into the void, hoping for good things.

[apolloattraction]

The Chengsey CNC Fic.

I can never miss a moment to imply Gansey is the most fuckable person in TRC.

“It’s crass to ask, you know.” Gansey doesn’t sound like he minds all that much. “Even if it weren’t, it would still be rude of me to tell.” “Of course,” Henry concedes. “Was it Ronan then?” Gansey’s fingers pause in their work. “He is not the only amenable man I know.” Sure, Henry thinks. He doesn’t point out that Gansey could have amenable men wrapped around the corner of every street in the world, if they only knew it were an option. The problem is that most don’t know it’s an option… If not Ronan, then who? The possibilities only become stranger the more Henry thinks about it. Gansey finishes wrapping Henry’s second wrist and caresses the tape with his thumb. “Does it make you jealous?”

[ofchaosgoddess]

help I’m having ideas beyond my available free time

[nothereforthedrama]

help I'm having ideas beyond my available energy levels

[apolloattraction]

The Chengsey CNC Fic, arriving at the point of the CNC (finally)

“Alright, let’s try it this way…” Gansey rubs his thumb down Henry’s neck, tracing a line that only he can see. “Do you remember the name of that bar we were at? The last night in Argentina, I mean.” Henry nods. “Say that – the name – if you really want me to stop.” In the silence that follows, he drags his thumb across Henry’s neck again. This time, it stings. It’s the cut, Henry realizes. With all his other aches, he’d forgotten that the knife had clipped him during his abduction. He’s reopening it. The thought makes Henry’s head spin, even before Gansey lowers his mouth to the injury. Gansey presses his lips to the cut in a closed-mouth kiss. “Tell me if that’s alright,” he says, face still to Henry’s neck, breath curling warm and pleasant over his skin, “And if it is, I’ll stop asking.”

[cadaverpilled]

my excessive use of commas and my love of run on sentences is alluring and attractive to my readers

[apolloattraction]

a bit more from the Chengsey CNC Fic. It has a name now but I'm still deciding if it sounds stupid and might change it later. I am sooo close to finishing it and I'm angling to get an extra day off this week. Inshallah I'll do it and be able to write more ^^;

As if plucking this thought from Henry’s mind, Gansey huffs. “I would have called, but you changed your number.” Henry hears the way his voice goes tight, tone straining to stay neutral. He looks at Gansey’s ducked head and folds his arms over his chest. It wasn’t that he’d changed his number; he’d just started using a different phone with a different sim card. It was one of the old burners his mother had given him. He still has the old phone – the line is still active, even – but he’d been afraid of what he’d see if he turned it back on… read the call log… looked at the pictures. His fingers tap against his arm in an inaudible rhythm. “I didn’t change it… exactly…”

[recurring-polynya]

me (crazy eyes, covered in blood): I NEED to finish writing my fanfic. so I can start writing a different fanfic.

[apolloattraction]

Now that it's hit 3 chapters, this PWP is really coming together 🫠

The Chengsey CNC Fic:

“Do you ever think about how ungainly fabric can be?” Henry shoots back instead. “The things we do for a good silhouette…” For a night out in places we shouldn’t be… [...] “I’m fine,” Henry backtracks. “Just about to get in.” As if to prove this, he reaches for the shower knob and turns it on. When he’s sure he won’t be heard, he plants his hand to the counter top for balance to get the rest of his clothes off. The movement puts his weight on his wrist; the rush of the water covers up the pained whine that climbs up his throat from it. He should have asked for Gansey’s help.

[apolloattraction]

I'm still finding the best time to get writing done at this job. Until then, I'm just plucking away at these fics and waiting until my dayoff (currently thursdays) so I can go to 'town,' but an $11 coffee (yikes) and hope their internet it working (it is not today, but I've got enough signal to relay my hotspot for now. Yay :) )

Anyway, here they are, my unruly children:

The Chengsey CNC Fic

Right, he thinks, Can’t sleep, and turns his attention back to the scenery to keep himself from watching Gansey work through the gears between them. At the corner of his eye, he can see tanned knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. The hotel sign looms ahead. There’s a joke about this. He’s sure of it, but it’s in English, and in bad taste. He keeps it to himself and they turn into the empty lot before he can think of anything else to say. Gansey helps hims from the car again. Now that some time has passed, Henry’s legs have got enough feeling in them that he can walk on his own, but he lets Gansey take his weight, anyway.

Parametric/Bedroom Hymns V

“Stop.” Ronan says, voice firm. Kavinsky lifts his eyes up to him in a startle. “What?” “I know you’re trying to think of a way to pervert this.” Ronan says dryly. “Stop.”

Parametric Epilogue I

Kavinsky swipes the back of his hand against his nose. He expects to see blood and blinks twice when it isn't. Like painted night, black and glittering, is the evidence of a little bit of himself unmade. He wipes it off on the side of his jeans. He looks up to Adam; Adam looks back. "What did you do?" Adam asks. Kavinsky shrugs and turns his eyes up the drive to where the corner of the house peeks out from the cover of the trees. "Made it easier on him. Probably."

Declan Genfic

(Declan, in a decade’s time, could pick at a memory – a sunny day at home, carried high up on his father’s shoulders, laughing like a giant through the fields – and worry it ragged. Did it matter how young he was then? When he’d been picked up and put down for the last time, did it matter to him that Ronan had been carried for so much longer? It wouldn’t be long until he felt a weight like that on his shoulders, too.)

[apolloattraction]

More from the Chengsey CNC Fic

“Wait!” Gansey’s hand lands on Henry’s chest and shoves him back to the wall. “Just wait a second, Henry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Henry doesn’t know what Gansey didn’t mean; all he knows is that Gansey’s hand is still on his chest, holding him to the wall. The difference between them had always been significant; Henry had noticed. Henry thought about it a lot, in fact – even when sharing tiny motel rooms and crowding into tents and sprawling at all angles in the Pig made it a dangerous thought to have.

[apolloattraction]

Quick update:

Im still working on all the stories and fics ive been talking about, but working on them all at once makes me slow

Additionally, i'm at my summer job and this

Is the internet the whole campus is sharing

🫠

[singersargentboi]

*makes gansey deal with the mental issues that comes with being subjected to the predatory lesbian stereotype* yay 💓 suffer 💓

[apolloattraction]

Early Wip Wednesday because I will be traveling on actual wednesday and will probably be using my time tuesday to Freak Out :)

The Chengsey CNC Wip has gained a wordcount... It also may end up with a nice lump of whump to start it...

Henry’s bound wrists and laced fingers shift to cover his lap. “How’d you get here?” he asks, enunciating the words over his headache, trying to buy himself a distraction. “What?” Gansey’s brows furrow. He catches the shift. “Your wrists.” There’s a movement, a tiny flick. “Jesus, Henry, doesn’t that hurt?”

[apolloattraction]

Okay. So. I want to start this out by saying that if you're waiting on any of these updates/fics, I love you (lots) and also I'm going through Something right now and I'm not sure when any of them will actually be done.

I am running on very little sleep, less money than that, so much caffeine (insert vibrating skeleton meme), and I will once again be traveling about 2000 miles next week to get to my next job...which is in a fairly remote area with questionable cell service and wi-fi. (thumbs up, melty face -> i'm on desktop and don't want to waste time on emojipedia)

Anyway, I am slowly but surely working on these, (among others.)

Final Parametric Chapter (Bedroom Hymns V)

Ronan holds his fist out to Blue, but she shoves it aside to hug him instead. Her arms cinch so tightly around his ribs that it seems like he is the one leaving her behind instead of the other way around. "Calla's coming to check on you at the end of the week and --" She pauses when Ronan's arms come around her in return. There's a silent second of them appreciating the gesture before each looks embarrassed and mutually pulls away. "If she doesn't tell you; you call me."

Parametric Epilogue I

Ronan's feet dangle over the edge of the loft. He kicks them idly as he watches Kavinsky and Adam inspect his... Charge? Recruit? Foster? Declan says, "They're looking for him and they're going to find him." Ronan says, "They were looking for me, too." "And they found you," Adam reminds.

Additionally, I have come to a decision on the Epilogues. I'm going to shorten what I've got to tie up the ends in the 3 epilogues as originally planned. And then, sometime later, I'm going to polish up the long versions and post them as mini-stories (if all goes well)

--

Declan Genfic, newly named: "The Stories We Tell Ourselves"

Declan’s mother had flinched. It had been almost reflexive: a slight wince whenever Ronan hugged her until he finally stopped trying altogether. Just his presence, too close, made her guards come up. It was a reaction she mostly avoided with Niall and Declan, though she wasn’t overly affectionate with them either. (Every smile and pet from his mother had been a coveted prize – Ronan would never understand it now that he’d been spoilt with cheap attention.)

[apolloattraction]

Not going to lie, y'all are probably going to get the Declan Genfic (title pending) before anything else because it's easier to work on right now. With it being the last chapter of the main parametric story, I'm being a bit precious with it ^^;

That said, a snippet from the polished portion of the Declan Genfic:

His parents look at him in a long silence. Despite an entirely self-imposed bedtime, he has a childish moment of panic at being caught awake. Somewhere in the house, a clock ticks off the hour. He’d never known the precise time – but it’s late. Late enough that, in stories, the fae and body-snatchers would be stalking the good people of the world. Yet, even with their faces illuminated and guilty, they don’t look like ghouls to him.

And another portion of Bedroom Hymns V

“Buzzkill,” Kavinsky pouts and turns to Ronan for support, only to find him solidly asleep. “Seriously?” “He didn’t go far.” Adam says in that eerie way that he says most of his psychic things. Kavinsky doesn’t need him to say it. He can feel Ronan’s dreaming like a tug on a fishing line. He wonders how far out the connection will carry; would there be echoes of it out in South America or is this the only line that ties them together? The mechanics hadn’t meant much to him before, but now he wishes that he’d had the same drive as Adam to figure it all out.

And another smidgen of Epilogue 1 of Parametric:

“Hey, can you give me a ride after this? The subway makes me feel like I’m getting hepatitis.” “Parrish?” Declan guesses. “We’re in the same time zone,” Kavinsky says by way of explanation. “Don’t you want to be part of a miracle?” Declan busies himself with a message on his blackberry before replying. “I don’t want to be a part of anything you two have going on.” “That’s hurtful, D,” Kavinsky says and pats his hand over his heart. “After I drove all this way for you, you can’t do me a favor? It’s only a couple hours.”

[ninjasmudge]

worlds slowest fanfic author tries really really hard

[ninjasmudge]

everyone in the notes we are all holding hands. everyone who hasnt worked on a wip in weeks or months or years, its okay. we are going slow but we are going

[ijustwannawritepls]

How to Write When You Don't Feel Like Yourself

There are going to be days (or weeks, or months) where you sit down to write and feel... disconnected. From your voice, from your characters, from your ideas. Like the person who used to write your stories just packed up and left.

They didn't. They're just tired. Here's how to keep writing anyway:

Lower the bar (Until it's on the floor) You are not here to write something brilliant. You are here to write something. A paragraph. A sentence. A single line of dialogue. Movement matters way more than quality.

Write around the story Don't force it. If you can't write the scene, try: ⋆ A character ramble / journal entry ⋆ A conversation that won't be included in the final draft ⋆ A list of things the character would never admit out loud ⋆ A messy summary of what should happen Engage with the story from a different angle.

Borrow a voice until yours comes back No, not with AI. Read something that feels close to what you want to write, or watch a scene that captures the tone, then write immediately after. Not to copy, to reignite your instincts.

Write the emotion, not the plot. What is your character feeling in this moment? What are they afraid of? What do they want but won't say? What's being kept from them? The emotion leads, the plot catches up later.

Stop trying to "feel like a writer" first. You don't write when you feel like a writer. You feel like a writer because you write.

You are still a writer, even on the days it feels distant. Especially then.

[apolloattraction]

Tfw you go to edit and realize youve (once again) written 1-2k of just Vibes instead of story 😮‍💨

[apolloattraction]

However, once this chapter is fully edited and posted, if anyone wants to see the vibes that become the scenes... i do actually find the conversion process to be kinda fun.