#i giggled the whole 15 min it took to make this lmao

[yallmighty]

Average day in the Forger household

[touchmycoat]

I LOVE YOUR PORN AU!!!!! LIKE SO MUCH - and i'm just. if you don't mind me asking, how - the way you flesh out the characters, their motivations, and feelings in every scene in such an eloquent way, and just little things here and there, a habit or an activity that adds dimension to who they are, and - your prose is wonderful. you achieve this addictive, engrossing narrative space that readers just absolutely melt into, and i have to ask - how did you develop your writing style? 1/2

what books did you read that formatively shaped the way you write? or you know, what did you do to improve your writing? i'm so in awe of how you world-built and established the porn au - like lqg & hc being national taolu champions?? how do you come up with that stuff? i cannot comprehend the amount of research and effort that must've gone into porn au, and i'm just so deeply thankful that you decided to share that with us. i apologize if i'm coming on too strong, but wow. thank you 2/2

--

oh my god please don't apologize, when i saw your ask i rolled on the floor giggling hysterically for a solid 15 min, bless your heart

part of the answer to your question—i've taken like, 8 years' worth of creative writing classes/workshops! there was also a transnational literary component to my degree so whenever possible, i took literature classes fksjdfksd so whatever you see and like is definitely the result of a lot of work. My writing from not even 10 years ago but like, 5? horrid, ridiculous, wild, cringe. The Porn AU itself is the second draft of a MUCH more lackluster piece.

about my writing style. gosh, you really know how to make a writer blush. "I like your writing style" is literally an instant kill LMFAO okay okay, the useful answer: my primary criteria for choosing what to write is, don't be obvious, be interesting. Fiction tells us to show, not tell, right? Poetry is about concretizing the abstract. Screenwriting says cut all useless lines. A lot of writing rules and advice—never start with the weather, avoid detailed descriptions of the characters, don't use adverbs, etc.—are all really about this exact sentiment.

I once took a seminar on writing for horror movies. The golden rule of the horror genre is Never Show the Monster, because whatever the audience is imagining is always going to be scarier than what you actually show them. There are obviously exceptions to this (to all writing rules), but in my mind, it's all the same principle.

LONG answer under the cut

So you start with building a scene. I approach it like essay-writing—I state my thesis for the motivations/main propulsion of the plot. "In this scene, LQG and SY are motivated to save Cang Qiong's porn production, so they have sex on camera." Then you build the sub-motivations: "LQG is also doing this because he's pining after SY."

I learned this "thesis-writing" from theater, specifically from writing 10-min plays. Theater is all about characters being driven by their wants and needs, and the reason I say 10-min plays in particular is because longer forms of writing will give you more leeway, but in 10-min, you pretty much need your character motivations established from their very first line. That's why you need that very clear thesis for yourself—if you don't even know what the character wants from the get-go, then you can't establish who they are, what they want, and where they're going to go in a dynamic and interesting way.

So this thesis drives EVERYTHING that happens in your scene, just like an actual thesis for an essay, just like topic sentences for your paragraphs. Once I do this, I have the emotional direction & narrative scope of how much this scene will cover, I have a sense of where it begins and ends. "Begin with the dynamics of their sex. LQG starts showing signs of his feelings. Reveal LQG backstory for exactly what those feelings are and why he isn't telling SY. The rest of the scene implies that LQG's feelings may not be so unrequited, but also sets up the fundamental problem at the heart of the whole fic—SY's inability to comprehend his own feelings." This is kind of my new thesis now. They're having sex; LQG pines; SY doesn't know he himself is pining.

Now it's time to manifest. This is the "storytelling" part, and the hardest lmfao.

Personally, my approach is largely shaped by my very cool screenwriting teacher, who hammered into us: don't fucking waste lines. The Golden Rule of screenwriting is that every line should reveal something new. I found my old writing kind of repetitive, especially on the emotional front, so this is kind of my editing mantra now—is this line either propelling the story or revealing character? If it's revealing character, is it a revelation that has to happen right now, or is it slowing the momentum of the scene?

But these aren't rhetorical questions! "Momentum" doesn't just mean tumble forward as fast as you can, it also means taking the time to draw the bowstring back further, so your next move has even more propulsion. That's why you get the little "LQG has been in love with SY..." cut scene in the middle of the fucking (at least, that's my reasoning for putting it there). Every line has to bring a fresh revelation that "proves" your thesis further.

That brings me to the details. You said you like the details I inject into the world-building, and honestly that's so gratifying to hear, because that means I'm successfully manifesting my intentions, y'know? "Every line has to bring new info" kind of sounds like a tall order, but the most effective way I've seen it done in books and onstage/onscreen is with these hyper-specific details. If you're writing a scene in which someone feels dirty, never have them just say that—have them say they want to take a shower. Show them running out of bleach again as they scrub down the stall after they wash. Begin the scene like "Steve always washes his throat first now." Then pack the scene with even more revelatory details: "Soap in hand, he heard the pipes above his head groan for a half note on adagio, and readied himself for the blast of icy water that always followed." Shitty shower, probably not rich, is likely a classical musician.

By the same token, I want to build LQG's character. The "Liu Qingge has been in love with Shen Yuan" section is the first insight we get into his background and perspective, right, so: I need to establish LQG's emotional context for filming this scene -> I can characterize him as a nut for martial arts in the same stroke -> so this takes place at a gym, beating up sandbags is a classic way of showing manly emotional distress -> so give me more details on this gym -> Puqi Gym, XL the martial god is obviously the owner -> how do I have XL & LQG a relationship beyond gym owner & client? They spar together -> I want XL & HC's position in this AU to mirror their god/ghost king statuses in TGCF canon -> how can I concretize their fighting prowesses in real-world details? -> they're martial arts champions -> what's an actual competitive martial art form that involves weaponry? -> wushu -> wikipedia Wushu, find taolu weapons sparring

(I just realized that in my songxiao daycare AU, Hualian are Olympic gold medalists by the same narrative logic laksjdnflaksjdnflsd)

So, that's the flow of logic behind my world-building lmao. It's all in the details. Leverage is one of my all-time favorite TV shows and the way they build their stories is super inspiring. If their thesis is "the rich and powerful take what they want, we steal it back for you," they manifest it in the most specific and concrete narratives: mine workers who like the work but are fighting for workplace safety vs. the money-grubbing mine owner who will blow up their livelihoods if it means a bigger payday; the little girl from Iraq with refugee status forced to be an accomplice to antique smuggling vs. international smuggler with a fetish for British royalty.

Last pieces of writing advice I've gotten: pay attention to the real world. A writing exercise we did was just sit in a public spot and make concrete observations on our surroundings. There are stories in everything!!! I learned to observe things like weird holes in the concrete (earthquake? drilling accident? bullet mark?), odd patches of moss or bird shit (look overheard: it's an AC unit dripping water for the former and nesting swallows for the latter), ladies in flipflops walking alongside ladies in high heels (excited mother walking her antsy daughter to the bus for the daughter's first job interview—the daughter's shirt collar is unfashionable and she's taking the bus, so there's a good chance the shoes were passed down, maybe from an office lady aunt. Maybe she's even overdressed for the interview, so will her outfit be an unintended source of tension once she gets to the interview? Is it a group interview, to make the comparison more stark?).

Also, write what you know. You know why SY is a video editor in porn AU? Because I'm a video editor. One of my more popular MDZS fics is set in a plant shop 'cause I worked in a plant shop. SL was First AD in Bachelor!AU 'cause I was First AD on a set once. Concrete details like the editing software having a split-screen, always answering questions about how often to water plants, and being up until 3AM editing call-sheets are the ones that will fully immerse your readers.

And if you can't do the actual things, just watch someone who is, listen to them talk, pick up lingo, and fake it. I watched like a 15-min vox video on fencing for the fencing!AU and a 45-min music theory video on the hospital pianist!AU (also I started learning piano sklfjnlsdjlfkjsd). Of course, I just finished reading a wangxian fic that had me going, "holy fucking shit, the author is literally getting their masters in a music program" so my 45-min youtube video ain't shit, but if you just need a little bit of character establishment, then it's enough to do the trick.

Anyways, tl;dr. Find the details, find the tension. Never tell outright what the tension is supposed to be, manifest it instead. Make the manifestation as interesting as possible, and if it's meant to be funny, make it funnier.

Sorry this turned into a fucking lecture lskjnflskdjnflskd but last thing, someone asked me before if I had formative authors, and this was the list I wrote at the time:

Angels in America (play) by Tony Kushner

The God of Small Things (novel) by Arundhati Roy

The Penelopiad (novel) by Margaret Atwood

“Litany in Which Certain Things are Crossed Out” (poem) by Richard Siken

Night Sky with Exit Wounds (poetry) by Ocean Vuong

Giovanni’s Room (novel) by James Baldwin (and then Go Tell it on the Mountain and then his essays)

Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger

And, ooh, now that I have this list I think I can even roughly sort it as such: Kushner, Atwood, Siken, and Salinger I really latched onto for their dialogue and very present narrator voice—same is true for Go Tell it on the Mountain. Roy, Vuong, and Giovanni’s Room, I think, are texts more representative of the kind of saturated figurative language I like, and emulate. Of course they all do imagery and voice and overall structure amazingly, but that’s the rough dividing line I’d draw.

But yeah James Baldwin is my fucking hero.

[nonstoplover]

some kind of beautiful ~ Tom Holland (song drabble)

my masterlist │my song drabbles

song used as inspiration: tyler ward ft. lindsey stirling ~ some kind of beautiful

words: 3.3K

approximate reading time: about 15 mins

a/n: i listened to this song and got struck by a wave of inspiration lmao i love tyler and lindsey (and oh my gosh that music video o.O), this song is just adorable and i immediately imagined this with my baby Tom so here you go. i hope you enjoy xx

The headlights cast a warm yellow beam on the road ahead of Tom as he drives in complete darkness. Earlier it was probably raining as the asphalt sparkles underneath the ray of light, something that doesn't surprise him anymore. Whenever he's driving north to see his girlfriend, it's almost always like this. In England, rain is something that comes a permanent part of your life, Tom learned that early.

He suppresses a yawn, raising a hand from the steering wheel for a moment to rub his eyes, then changes the song that's playing from the speakers. A familiar tune immediately fills his ears, and his lips curve into a wide smile. It's their song.

His mind fills with memories of her and the previous exhaustion he felt is long gone. It doesn't matter anymore that he just attended a premiere of his newest movie last night. It doesn't matter anymore that he got up early to jump on the first plane and fly home, then got into his car right away and set off towards Liverpool immediately without a single moment to rest.

He just has to see her. He has to tell her that he wants them to move in together. It's all that has been in his mind for the past week or so, and he knows he has to tell her about it before he goes absolutely crazy. He prepared all the most perfect reasons in his mind, so she just can't say no. And it's way more important than something that could be talked about in a text conversation.

Whenever he's away from her - and for some unknown reason, especially this last time - he misses her non-stop. Her scent. Her touch. The glimmer of her eyes whenever she looks at him, and only him. The way her lips curve into a smile. The sound of her angelic laugh in his ears. The taste of her lips against his. The delicate, feather-like touches of her fingers against his skin. How peaceful she looks when she's asleep in his arms. How happy she makes him just by existing.

He remembers clear as day the first time he saw her, three years back in a café in London. Looking at her made the entire world fade out in his eyes and he still can't comprehend how on Earth he got so lucky that the only empty table was right beside hers. He accidentally heard what she and the other girl at the table - her sister she was visiting, as Tom later found out - talked about and apologetically joined in the conversation with his opinion on the matter. Two and a half hours later Tom left for a meeting with her number saved in his phone.

Within fifteen minutes he had already asked her if she'd wanted to meet with him with a bold and cheeky text, which then led to them spending as much time together as possible throughout the following eight days she stayed in London - with Tom's job and (y/n)'s primary reason, being with her sister in the way. Then she went back to Liverpool and took a part of Tom with her.

They kept in touch, texting every waking moment, driving everyone around them mad with the constant typing and smiling at screens. And a month later Tom drove up north for the first time, visiting her for the weekend. He asked her to be his girlfriend. She said yes. And they have been in a long distance relationship ever since. It was hard, but whenever they could see each other, it made it worth it.

And now he's going to take it to the next step - asking her to move to London.

His cheeks are hurting from the wide smile that stays fixed for the entire drive as he now drives down familiar streets, leading to her. He pulls into the first parking spot he catches sight of around her apartment block, stops the engine and rushes out of the car, right towards the front door without even glancing at his watch to see how late it is.

Tom takes the stairs two at a time, not slowing his speed for one second until he's right outside her door. He presses the switch of the doorbell, then leans forward, supporting himself with his palms on his knees to catch his breath. From inside he hears the soft padding of feet growing louder, then the key clattering in the lock and eventually the door opens.

(y/n) gasps as her eyes take in those very familiar soft, brown locks. "Tom?" She lets out in question.

The mentioned boy raises his head and their eyes connect right away without difficulty and the dark brown sea of his irises sparkle with a new excitement.

"Hi," he breathes out, getting lost in her sight and smell and sound. She's wearing a plain tank top and a pair of pastel sweatpants, no makeup covering her natural beauty, her hair up in a messy bun, and Tom just knows that he made the right decision driving here first thing after landing.

"What the hell are you doing here?" (y/n) crosses her arms in front of her chest, suddenly overly aware of the fact that Tom is wearing a suit whilst she's in her comfiest clothes, looking messier than ever. "You were at the premiere in LA just last night!"

"I know," he lets out a chuckle. "I drove here as soon as I landed."

"You what ?!"

"Now are you going to let me in or am I gonna spend the entire night out here in the corridor?"

"Sorry," the girl's eyes widen in realisation and she takes a step to the side to let him in.

Tom waits until the door closes back behind him, shrugging off his suit jacket in the meantime and stretching his arms as (y/n) secures the lock again. Then as soon as she turns back towards him, he grabs her waist with both hands, pulling her flush against his body.

"I missed you," he mumbles, lips almost touching hers.

"I missed you too, crazy," she whispers back, a small smile lighting up her whole face as her arms slowly snake around his shoulders and neck.

Tom wastes no time to dive in, catching her mesmerizing, inviting strawberry coloured lips in a searing kiss. Then another one. And another. He just can't get enough. And when (y/n) finally tries to move out of his touch, placing her palms against his chest to gently push him away, his raspy voice breaks the silence again.

"I know I've already kissed you like, ten times, but just like another ten, please."

As that sweet, heartwarming, angelic giggle leaves her mouth, he goes right back in, continuing to pepper her with kisses, this time not stopping at her lips, instead moving all around her face.

"Stop! Tom, stop!" (y/n) wiggles to escape from the ticklish touch of his lips against her skin, but the muscles in his arm tense and keep her there effortlessly.

A minute later Tom eventually stops and leans back, arms loosening around her torso, but it's not like he already had enough - quite the opposite actually, but he knows she's getting overwhelmed.

"Come on, you big teddy bear, let's get you changed, then I'll give you some food," (y/n) moves a hand behind her back to lace her fingers with his, then makes her way further inside the apartment.

Arriving to the bedroom, she lets go of his hand so he can swiftly go to the bathroom whilst she rummages out the hoodie and the pair of sweatpants he left at her place during one of his stays from her closet, and then when they meet up again, Tom pulls (y/n) in for yet another lingering kiss.

With a playful roll of her eyes (y/n) moves out of his touch again, then helps him undo the buttons of his shirt, pushing it down his shoulders before reaching out for the newly found hoodie and handing it to him.

"Get dressed, I'll be in the kitchen," she pecks Tom's cheek before placing the white shirt down on the chair on her way out, trying to leave it as smoothed out as possible.

She swiftly moves around the small kitchen, starting to make a couple sandwiches and a cup of hot tea for Tom - eventually finishing it with his help -, then they sit down on the couch in the living room and she watches him eat. At first she asks him questions about the premiere and he tries to answer, but given that his mouth is almost always filled with food, they soon give up and change the topic so instead of Tom, (y/n) tells about her past two days.

When he finishes eating and places the now empty cup and plate on the coffee table, they are finally able to cuddle, something the both of them have been waiting for ever since Tom has arrived. Their limbs are tangled and his arms are wrapped around her body in a way that makes her feel safer than ever. (y/n) clings into the material of the hoodie as if she's afraid this is all just a dream, one that she doesn't want to end. Her face is buried in his chest and his face is buried in her hair and they both feel like a whole again after a long time of not seeing each other.

The sound of two relieved sighs break the comfortable silence of the living room at the exact same time, signaling how they are still in sync. Nothing has changed.

"(y/n)?" Tom speaks up a couple minutes later.

"Yeah?" Her sleepy voice mumbles back.

"I've been thinking," he pauses, trying to shake the sudden nervousness that he can feel sweeping in his veins. "I wanted to talk about something."

"Yeah?" (y/n) asks again, but this time much more awake, and Tom can feel her body tensing up under a millisecond before she moves a bit further from him to be able to look at his face.

"I think... well, you know, it's not like we're rushing into anything, it's been three years already, but... I've been thinking and came to the conclusion that in my opinion you should move to London. To my place."

The last part of his speech comes out so rushed that it sounds like one long word, and as soon as his voice fades out he already feels much calmer and better. The tension in (y/n)'s body loosens immediately, a slowly forming smile breaking the worried expression on her face, but still she doesn't say a word which makes Tom fall back into the nervosity and he opens his mouth to continue.

"You know, actually, I thought about everything. You should quit your job," Tom jabbers before a frown appears on his forehead and he halts to think back to what he's just said. "Okay, that sounded pretty bad, but you've already talked about wanting to quit it and find something else because you don't like it, and so I thought maybe you should find that something in London so we could be together 24/7. Or maybe I can find some job for you to do on the set of my following movies, or whatever you like, really, I just-"

"Shhh," (y/n) raises her hand to press her fingers softly against his lips in order to stop his slur. "If you would just stay quiet for a moment, please."

She watches with a small grin as his eyes widen and he shuts his mouth, nodding and making a motion with his hands as if he's zipping his lips shut.

In the new silence, the girl can finally let her thoughts wander around in her mind, finding pros and cons to his suggestion. And it's not like she hasn't thought about moving to London so many times before. Her sister's there, Tom's there, and even her family lives in Birmingham, so it's not like she would be further away from them either. And she can't deny the fact that in London there are much more job opportunities for her to find, and a much better chance to find something she actually loves and enjoys. Now she just has to say yes.

What are you waiting for?!, the small voice shouts impatiently inside her head.

She takes a deep breath and looks back in the warm brown orbs that are still watching her with the same adoration as they have been the entire night. "Okay," she mumbles.

Tom's body goes rigid, the fingers that have been subconsciously caressing the small of her back freeze in place, pressed into her skin. His eyes widen even more than before, and he gapes like a fish that's out of the water. "Okay?" He breathes back, afraid that he heard something wrong.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about it too. It'd be nice to move in with you," she sheepishly answers, looking up at him through her lashes.

"Are you serious?" Tom exclaims - a bit too loud and high pitched to his liking, but he's just unable to contain his sudden excitement.

"Yes, I am."

They beam at each other, feeling overwhelmed with love before (y/n) lets out a giggle, shaking her head lovingly at the boy in front of her. "But you're still crazy for driving such a distance while being so exhausted."

"I might be, but I couldn't bare another moment without you," Tom shrugs and before the girl could exclaim against his cheesiness, he swiftly places his hands on her cheeks, pulling her in for a kiss.

When they both run out of breath, they go back to the previous cuddling position, staring out into the distance at particularly nothing as they discuss the new plan more rationally. Tom feels like his heart might burst from the joy and love he's feeling at the moment, he's sure he's the happiest person on the planet.

"What do you think, how long will it take for you to pack everything up?" Tom tilts his head, glancing down at the (y/h/c) haired girl.

"Uh, great question. I have no idea," (y/n) grunts as her eyes travel around the room, already dreading the amount of time it will take her.

"We can start it tomorrow. I'll help."

"Tomorrow?" She lets out a giggle. "You really want to rush this so much?"

"Of course, I've been dreaming about this for too long now, I just want it to happen like right now."

(y/n) shakes her head before leaning up to press a chaste kiss against his jawline. "We can start tomorrow, if you'd like..."

"Nice," he grins wide.

A minute of silence comes over the flat, both of them deep in their thoughts about the near future before Tom speaks up again.

"I have a couple things to do in London during next week, but on Friday I'll come back and help you finish packing and then we can drive back together. For the last time," he mumbles, dreamily staring off in the distance, possibly seeing his words form an imagined picture in front of his inner eyes. "So, during the week you should continue packing and arrange moving out with the landlord and I'm gonna properly clean my place so it'll be ready for you and your stuff."

(y/n) takes a breath and opens her lips to give some corny answer, but before any sound could leave her, Tom continues phrasing his thoughts.

"And then when you pack everything out, we can go and buy new things together. I mean, you can decorate the whole house any way you'd like to. And then it'll officially be ours..." Tom's voice swiftly trails off as he hears a quiet sniffle.

He leans back a bit, loosening his embrace on (y/n)'s body before placing his fingers under her chin to gently make her look up at him. With almost no resistance he can lift her head and his eyes are suddenly able to take in the teary, glistening pair of (y/e/c) eyes and damp stains on the skin of her cheeks.

"Hey, are you crying?" He whispers, worry filling his mind and heart.

(y/n) sniffles again and another teardrop escapes one of her eyes, rolling down before Tom reaches out with his thumb to stop it midway. "No, I'm impersonating a fountain," she snorts, a small giggle leaving her lips. "Yes, I'm crying, dumbass."

Tom just rolls his eyes at her sarcastic answer before pulling one hand back from her body so he could fish a tissue out of his hoodie's pocket and hand it to her. "And why are you crying?"

"Because what you just described is the exact thing I've been dreaming of since I was a kid," (y/n) admits while gently pressing the material under her eyes to dry them before blowing her nose in a clearly unromantic way that makes both of them let out a short laugh.

"Ahw, darling," Tom smiles at her, pressing a peck on the now dry skin of her cheeks. "I'm glad I can make it happen."

"Me too," she grins.

They stare in each other's eyes with intense adoration, communicating through the sparkling shades and colours.

"But like there's no need to plan everything in our future tonight, let's just cuddle for now and enjoy the moment," (y/n) speaks up after a couple minutes with a chuckle. "Though you can continue planning tomorrow when we'll be packing, if you want."

Tom responds with a chuckle similar in amount of happiness, only a bit lower in tone.

"Okay. I like the sound of that," he answers before snaking his hands securely around his girlfriend's body and standing up with her in his arms.

(y/n) lets out a small squeal, immediately gripping his biceps in hope of some kind of support as if it would help if she was about to fall. Tom makes his way to the small bathroom and places the girl down on her own feet so she can start her night routine. They can barely keep a straight face as they brush their teeth, knowing that it's actually going to be an everyday thing pretty soon now.

When he finishes, Tom leans back against the sink, watching the love of his life with an amused look in his eyes as she effortlessly makes her way around the small room, reaching to the different shelves for all the skincare products she uses. Their eyes meet every once in a while, making (y/n) blush and let out a giggle from the intensity of his eyes.

It eventually doesn't take long until she's ready to sleep as well and Tom moves his arms around her once more, lifting her up in the air. (y/n) instinctively wraps her legs around his lower body, placing the palms of her hands on the back of his neck.

Reaching the bed, Tom pulls the duvet back with one hand then gently places the girl down on the mattress. He climbs in right behind her after the shortest moment and immediately wraps his arms tightly around her.

"Good night, love," he mumbles in her hair, enjoying the feeling of its smell fill his nose and lungs.

"Good night, Tom," she whispers back. "I love you."

She only pauses for a second in-between the two sentences, but by the time the last word leaves her lips, she can already feel Tom's body going limp and his breaths become more steady and rhythmical as he finally let go and drifted off to sleep, exhaustion completely taking over him as soon as he lets it. Being beside her, he subconsciously knows that he can finally let his guard down again.

.::the end::.

my masterlist