#andy is writing a book

[dragons-in-spaceee]

Andy Weir is so so good at making a HUGE impact when a character cries or breaks down. The rest of the novels are usually pretty light hearted and suddenly BAM. TEARS. and it just really gets me. It suddenly reminds me of the massive impact those kinds of situations would actually have because these people are HUMAN. The reality of what they are going through. Amazing 10/10

[mirandapriestlyswife]

I JUST FOUND OUT THAT THERES TWO BOOKS THAT ARE LITERALLY BASED ON MIRANDY FANFICS?? HELLO??

Books are “Truth and Measure” and “The Brutal Truth”

[pjshermann]

advertising post for my upcoming/in progress A Little Life fics bc im so excited about them and need to talk about them :D

just what the doctor ordered (title not finalized)

Fic about Andy and Jude meeting for the first time when Jude is seventeen and has a terrible, sustained episode that makes his friends take him to the campus hospital. Fic follows Andy and Jude through their relationship up until Jude's death

I won't put my child in the dark

Fic about Harold and Julia in the days and weeks and months after Jude's death. enough said about that ;)

Scones

A lighthearted, no angst A Little Life fic???? can you believe it. If you've ever watched Derry Girls you will love this one. I'm taking the scones episode from season two, and putting the Boys in the Hood in a similar situation. College shenanagins involving corpses and weed

Gnossienne

Remember when Jude said his worst nightmare would be for Harold and Julia to find out about his past through a doctors report, a photograph, or a film still? Yeah, that's EXACTLY what happens. woops

No title yet (relatively new idea so yk)

Fic about Harold and Julia meeting for the first time, with Harold finding happiness again after grieving Jacob's passing and his divorce from Liesl. First dates, wedding, and general love !

[andiwriteordie]

into the daylight | part 1/6: lines that i’ve crossed, unforgiven 

It’s quiet for a few moments, before Mike finally whispers back, “What kind of story do you want me to tell?”

Will considers this for a moment. “One about hope,” he murmurs, and he closes his eyes heavily, resting his head on Mike’s chest. “About how things could be different.”

Again, Mike goes quiet. His heart beats, a gentle thumpthumpthump, in time with Will’s own, and he holds Will closer, staring up at the endless sky above them. Then finally, he begins to tell his tale.

“Once, there were two princes,” Mike says softly, “born in countries at war with one another…”

Or:

Four years after being freed from his possession, Will is relearning his identity—who he is, now that he’s no longer the Shadow Prince. But when the new treaty with Corazzia calls for Will’s betrothal to their prince, Will must not only work to reconcile his differences with Mike and all of Corazzia, but also finally move forward—away from the shadows of his past.

—

byler. princes. enemies to lovers. arranged marriage. fantasy au.

but make it will’s pov. 

if you read the heartbreak prince and enjoyed it, you’re in luck! have a will companion fic. :) 

[macinthecaac]

I will genuinely never understand how people on twitter think Ryland Grace DIDN'T undergo a character arc. Did we even read the same book???

[thepursuitofunderstanding]

Sometimes people let the same problem make them miserable for years when they could just say, 'So what.' 'My mother didn't love me.' So what... 'I'm a success but I'm still alone.' So what. I don't know how I made it through all the years before I learned how to do that trick. It took a long time for me to learn it, but once you do, you never forget.

Andy Warhol

[andromedaexists]

IT'S PUB DAY 🗣️‼️

HAPPY 10/10 ΔΆΙΟΣ (my baby) IS OUT IN THE WORLD!!! Δάιος is the first book in the Call Me Icarus trilogy! It is an Anti-Establisment retelling of the fall of Icarus.

It's also what I've made my entire about! The whole reason I joined writeblr! It is my everything, I have chronic CMI brainrot at this point. Icarus is a rotisserarie chicken in my mind

Are you a fan of trans men being the worst? Queer people making bad decisions? Blood?? Good, ΔΆΙΟΣ has it all!! Just check out this nifty little graphic I made:

ANYWAYS I just got confirmation that the Hardcovers and paperbacks are on their way to me so that I can do some signed editions with ✨goodies✨

Hopefully that means hardcovers will be available on like amazon and b&n soon (idk how these things work), but at the very least paperbacks are available on amazon!!

idk what else to say here, i'm just super excited that my word baby is out in the world. Have some links i guess?

Δάιος on Amazon Δάιος signed copies on my website Goodreads page! The most beautiful image of my book in existence (and a review of it) a secret 5th link

[kiltongrammarwriter94]

*Yells out into the Void of AGGGTM Bookfans and fans alike*

Anyone interested in some Pippa Fitz Amobi x reader? Specifically Sapphic? I know a lot of Emma Myers fans who have been waiting for this moment. If so, any ideas would be appreciated. (Also PipRavi Ideas are also welcome)

[justabooklovingmetalhead]

Ough the parallels at the end… beautiful. I do wish Ryland got to go back to Earth so that he could punch Stratt tho :/

[citnamora]

I'm reading the Raggedy Ann book series written and illustrated by Johnny Gruelle. Yesterday I watched Raggedy Ann and Andy: A Musical Adventure. Immediately after, I stayed up watching Raggedy Ann: The Musical Adventure [the bootlegs of the show that were previously lost media(?) from what I recall].

...I think I have a new hyperfixation, LOL.

[mirandapriestlyswife]

Mirandy fanfic- Apocalypse Au; Chapter 3

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────

Hiii! This chapters not that great since I’ve had some things to do but really wanted to get this part out! Enjoy :)

Prologue- https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747204446805704704/mirandy-fanfic-apocalypse-au-prologue

Chapter 1 https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747303362291286016/mirandy-apocalypse-fic-chapter-1

Chapter 2 https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747419492186996736/mirandy-fanfic-apocalypse-au-chapter-2

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

Here she sat. Face to face with Miranda Priestly in her Old Navy sweatshirt she bought on sale 5 years ago that was two sizes too big as the two of them dined over a “feast” of canned beans, canned apricots, and beef jerky that she was sure expired last year.. She took a bite of the jerky as she watched Miranda eat. The woman somehow managed to look regal as ever even when eating food that looked like it could be from a 1950s fallout shelter.

“You know.. It’s funny- before I found you I was honestly thinking of leaving New York..” Andy chuckled as she took a bite of a canned apricot covered in sugary syrup.

Miranda made a noise of disapproval which made Andy look up from her can, confused. “What?”

Miranda poked at her Jerky which she had made Andy serve to her on a plate, “Well where on Earth were you planning to go?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know? Maybe somewhere fun? California? Florida? Gasoline expires in about 4 years give or take, so I kinda got a time limit on my traveling.”

Miranda scoffed at that and finally reluctantly took a bite of her food. “Ridiculous..” she muttered.

“Well.. I just.. I don’t know if I want to spend the rest of my days in the City where I kinda lost everything, you know?”

“While I can agree with that on some level..” The older woman straightened her back and sighed, “You do realize how troubling it would be to travel across the country? Where would we even get a car?”

Andy was about to answer when she noticed Mirandas use of ‘we’. Did the former editor think of them as some sort of team now? She smiled at the idea. “I was thinking we could raid old cars left on the streets? Like how they do in those zombie apocalypse movies, you know?” She took a bite of a spoonful of beans.

“Those are movies, Andrea.”

She sighed, “Yeah. I know.” She put down her empty plate and got up off the chair to start turning on the electric candles she had around the apartment to keep it lit at night. In all honesty she hated the dark. It just reminded her of how empty the world really was. She heard Miranda put her plate on the end table by the couch and move to lay down on the pullout couch. Andy turned on the last few candles so the apartment was slightly lit. She shut the curtains and awkwardly sat on the chair opposite the pull out.

Miranda didn’t seem to take notice as she grabbed a newspaper off of the end table, a copy of the Mirror. One she’d read a million times amidst quarantine. She watched as Miranda squinted to read the pages, she seemed to be blind as a bat without her reading glasses. She smiled fondly at the image in front of her, ignoring the weird circumstances of their situation.

“I like it when you say my name.”

Miranda looked up from the paper and squinted, “What?”

“I like when you say my name, Miranda. Its.. Nice. Ive missed hearing you-“ she quickly corrected herself, “-someone say my name..” Andy gave a nervous smile, hoping her mistake wasn’t too obvious. “You okay reading in the dark? I have a flashlight around here somewhere..”

“Please- it’s hardly dusk.” The older woman flipped a page of the paper and held it away from her face, trying to read.

“Yeah.. But there isn’t much to do besides sleep. This is usually when I turn in for the night.”

Miranda cocked her head towards Andy and scoffed. “Too much sleep is just as bad as too little sleep.”

Andy laughed, “That’s coming from you! I once heard from Emily that you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep since ‘85!” She smiled as she saw Miranda roll her eyes and figured it was as good as time as any to get into bed. She got off her chair and slid under the mountain of blankets she had piled on the bed to protect her, and now her and Miranda, from the freezing November air. She lay on her side facing away from the editor, stiff as a board, a bit fearful of touching her and scaring her away, even though this was Mirandas idea in the first place.

“Tired?”

“Huh?” She still didn’t turn to face her.

“I asked if you were tired, I don’t like repeating myself.” She heard Miranda set the paper back on the end table.

“Yeah.. I guess- my bodies not used to getting up at 7. It was the first time Ive used my alarm clock since..” She chuckled slightly, in a sad manner. “I can’t remember..” She felt the bed shake slightly as Miranda laid down and felt herself freeze when she felt the older woman’s back against hers. The two laid in silence for what felt like hours..

“Im sorry about Paris.” Andy suddenly spoke, she doubted Miranda was awake anyways to hear her. But she felt the older woman shift beside her.. ‘Shes probably awake.. Just too stubborn to hear me out’.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you..” She said softer this time. It was true, she never meant to hurt Miranda. She even considered reaching out after the whole ‘finding a new job’ ordeal, but she doubted that the queen of fashion would give a shit what she had to say anyways. She sighed shakily. “Im really glad you’re alive.. Really glad..” She felt tears welling up in her eyes again and promptly wiped them away before they would start. She took a deep breath and turned on her side, only to see Miranda staring wide-eyed at her.

Andy froze up, not knowing what to do and acted as if she didn’t see Mirandas stare, burying her face into her pillow.

“Andrea..”

“Hm?”

Miranda sighed and shifted her pillow down slightly so she wasn’t directly face-to-face with Andy but more face-to-neck. Andy didn’t mind. It felt.. Nice. Amazing even, to be this close to another person again, especially Miranda. She put an arm around the older woman and sighed deeply. She felt Miranda tense then relax under her touch.

“Andrea..”

She sighed, trying to act like she definitely was not just crying and opened an eye. “Yeah?”

Mirandas frosty blue eyes practically pierced through her soul, causing Andy to gulp.

“I.. Paris is in the past.” She watched as the older woman took a deep inhale, “I.. I’m glad you’re alive.”

Andy stared at Miranda, her mouth having slightly fallen open. “Oh Miranda.. I-“

“Im not done.”

Andy smiled slightly, “sorry, sorry”

She watched the small smile form on Mirandas lips, “Im happy to be here. In bed with you. It’s much better than the office couch.” Andy grinned and couldn’t help herself as she inched closer to Miranda, which the older woman did not seem opposed to.

“Maybe tomorrow we can do something other than just sitting around Elias-Clarke all day?”

“Oh? And what do you propose we do?”

Andy chuckled and sat up as she spoke, looking down at Miranda.

“Well.. We could go raid some boujee clothing stores? Maybe hit up Chanel? Dior?” Miranda hummed in approval. “We could break into the Natural History Museum? That could be fun. Or! Or- we- I mean.. We could do anything we want really..” She smiled down at Miranda, “Ive never really thought of it like that.. For months I just.. stayed in. Then one day I realized I hadn’t seen a single person walking in the streets for weeks.” She sighed deeply, “I just figured it was just a really bad outbreak of some shitty extreme-flu. That they’d come up with some vaccine or miracle pill and boom, Id be back to work within a month.” She laid back down, this time closer to Mirandas warm body.

“My parents died.. Well, my mom died when the virus was just being talked about. When they were saying it only really affected people with pre-existing conditions. Then my dad died right after they initiated national lockdown. I couldn’t even travel to Ohio for either of their funerals..” her voice was a near whisper at the end, cracking slightly. It hurt to talk about her parents in the past tense. It was like a reminder that she would never see them again. She felt Mirandas hand snake its way around her waist and begin rubbing her back.

“…im sorry.”

Andy let out a small sniffle, “Thank you.” She snuggled closer to Miranda, putting her arms around the editor. This time Miranda didn’t tense, just simply relaxed and let out a deep sigh.

“You smell good.” Andy said softly, before realizing how weird that sounded. But for some reason Miranda laughed. “Thank you..” She smiled and scoffed, “I haven’t had a real shower in months.”

Andy chuckled and buried her face into Mirandas hair ever so slightly. “I usually just wash my hair by using a few jugs of water and shampoo I grabbed from Walgreens.”

Miranda hummed in approval, “Well. Im not that barbaric to use products from Walgreens..”

Andy laughed and cuddled even closer to Miranda. The two relaxing into a comfortable silence.

“Good night Andrea..” She heard Miranda murmur, though the woman seemed half asleep already.

“Goodnight Miranda..”

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────

I hope you all enjoyed, again sorry for the short post. Im working on trying to make this a slowburn but I didn’t realize how hard that’d be!

[pjshermann]

my love is mine all mine (I love, mine, mine, mine) - A Little Life fanfic

After the adoption ceremony, everyone returns to the Stein-Altman household for a celebratory lunch. Harold and Andy walk away from the noise and the two of them talk about Jude.

[tracle0]

Man hates his god

[andiwriteordie]

Mike and Will get locked in the school library and have to wait until morning for the doors to open up, perhaps?

ok so not gonna lie, i am getting sleepy (lol me projecting by writing mike's sleepy self in the library), but listen, this one was SO fun. a little modern byler au here, set during their senior year of high school. featuring every byler's favorite poem by richard siken (starts at 19:54 on the link).

—

with a beautiful boy

“What if nobody finds us in here, Will?”

Will blinks, and he rolls over to look at his best friend in amusement. “There’s school tomorrow, Mike,” he reminds dryly. “First thing in the morning, Ms. Jean’s gonna come in and realize we’re in here, and we’ll get lectured or get detention or something for being stuck in here. But they’re gonna find us.”

Mike hums, and he lazily reaches for one of the books—one with a black and white picture of a man’s mouth and hand, titled CRUSH. He opens it up, absently thumbing through the pages; then, without saying another word, he sets the book on top of his face.

“Do you think if I just… let these books sit on my head I’ll absorb all their information through osmosis or something?” Mike asks, his voice muffled by the book on top of his face, and Will just snorts.

“I think you need to sleep,” Will corrects, nudging his best friend’s shoulder. “It’s 2 AM, Mike. If you’re tired, you should sleep. I told you I didn’t mind staying up alone.”

“And I told you,” Mike says stubbornly, “that if you’re staying up, then I’m staying up too. Besides, it’s kind of fun. You know I get stupid when I haven’t slept in a while.”

Once again, Will snorts, and he reaches over, lifting the book off Mike’s face. “You said it,” Will deadpans. “Not me.”

A soft laugh escapes Mike’s lips, and he closes his eyes, letting out a quiet sigh. “I know,” he murmurs, his voice a little sleepy. “I know I did.”

“Mike,” Will laughs softly, nudging his best friend again. “If you’re tired, go to sleep.”

Mike lifts his middle finger up. “Don’t tell me what t’do, Byers,” he grumbles. “I’m fine.”

Will rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

Mike just hums softly, and he taps his fingers absently against the carpeted floor of the library. “Hey, Will?”

“Hm?”

“Will you read to me?” Mike says, his voice soft, and Will blinks, looking at his best friend curiously.

“You want me to read to you?” Will repeats, just trying to make sure he heard Mike correctly. 

“Mhm.” Mike nods. 

“What, like a bedtime story or something?” Will asks dryly. “Is that what this is?”

“No,” Mike huffs, opening one eye and sticking his tongue out at Will. “I just… like your voice a lot. It’s pretty. So… you should read to me.”

Warmth rises to Will’s cheeks, and he looks away quickly, lest Mike see the stupid blush on his face. Yeah, Mike is definitely loopy right now, since he’s saying stuff like this. There’s no way in hell Mike would say any of this if he was in the right mind. He has no idea what he’s talking about.

Maybe a bedtime story would be good for him.

“Fine,” Will sighs reluctantly. “What do you want me to read?”

Once again, Mike hums. “Just read the book I grabbed,” he mumbles. “The one you’re holding right now.”

“Okay, okay,” Will sighs, and he sits up, absently flipping through the book and trying to find a poem that stands out to him. 

Finally, one of the poems jumps out to him, and Will swallows the lump in his throat. He… he can’t help but think back to the summer road trip he and the other Party members had gone on, just a couple months ago. The memory of sneaking away in the morning before the others had woken up and riding in the passenger seat of Mike’s car along the coastline feels burned into Will’s memory, and this poem feels like that memory—as if the poet tore open Will’s heart and mind and used his thoughts as inspiration.

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy,” Will begins to read softly, “and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you've done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you're tired.”

Mike hums softly, and Will glances at his best friend, a tiny smile on his face. “You’re in a car with a beautiful boy,” Will continues, “and you're trying not to tell him that you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist…”

Will’s heart pounds inside his chest, and he takes a shaky breath, staring down at the words. “And you feel your heart taking root in your body,” he murmurs, “like you've discovered something you don't even have a name for.”

Once Will finishes reading the poem, the library goes silent. Neither one of them says a word, and all Will can do is stare at the words, reading them over and over again.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you.

…

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him.

...

And you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.

“Hey, Will?” Mike murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.

Will swallows the lump in his throat, and he lowers the book, so he can look at his best friend. “Yeah?” he whispers back.

Mike’s eyes are still close, and he absently traces his finger across the carpet. “Have you ever felt like that before?” he asks softly, and Will’s brow furrows.

“Like… what?” Will asks hesitantly.

“Like how the poet did when he wrote that,” Mike answers without hesitation. His voice is still soft, and it grows even softer when he adds, “‘Cause… ‘cause I have.”

Will’s breath catches. He glances back down at the book. The words jump off the page at him.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you.

“Yeah,” Will whispers back, hesitantly looking back up. “I… I have too.”

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him.

A tiny smile forms on Mike’s face, and he opens his eyes, looking sleepily at Will. “You should tell me about it sometime,” he whispers. “And I’ll tell you too… when I’m less sleepy. ‘Cause I… I don’t wanna wake up and realize this was a dream.”

There’s something so tender in Mike’s eyes, and Will can’t help but smile. “Okay,” he says softly, nodding at his best friend. “We can tell each other about… about what we’re thinking about, when you’re less sleepy. Deal?”

“Deal,” Mike promises, yawning softly. “I… I’m gonna sleep now. ‘m sorry.”

Will can’t help but laugh. “It’s okay,” he reassures. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you up before school starts.”

The smile on Mike’s face grows. “G’night, Will,” he mumbles, and he closes his eyes once more.

“Goodnight, Mike,” Will whispers back.

Within moments, Mike is fast asleep, and Will exhales, looking back down at the poetry book in his hands. His eyes land on the last lines of the poem, and Will can’t help but smile.

And you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.

[stupid-lemon-eater]

i read fantine's descent for the first time last night - i had fallen behind on les mis by 10 days so i read it all in one go when i was meant to be going to sleep, and at several points i just had to Stop and stare across my dark bedroom at the mirror and the faint outline of my face lit up by my ipad and just Breathe for a second.

the thing i found most interesting while reading it was just how horrifying it was. as mentioned in the post i just reblogged, fantine had to choose every single time to carve herself away, to give up more and more of herself until she was unrecognisable, and she did it all out of hope and love for her daughter who she doesn't even know was being mistreated, that all her sacrifice was doing was lining thernardier's pockets while cosette still suffered.

and that would be interesting enough as is, but the thing that struck me the most while reading is how all of the actual horror of fantine's fate is stripped from her in adaptations (or at least in the musical/movie) in favour of the lurid idea of her having to go into sex work. the book itself treats fantine going into sex work as another tragic loss on effectively the same level as cutting off her hair, learning how to live in winter with no heat nor light, losing her modest lodgings for an uncomfortable attic with no bedding, her persistent illness or removing her front teeth — it's, "Let us sell what is left!" — what's one more loss on top of everything else, right?

(one could even make an argument that the tooth removal was treated as the most horrifying part of fantine's descent - it certainly was for me, as someone who had two wisdom teeth removed recently! the imagery of her bloody smile with the hole where her front teeth should be lit up by candlelight is definitely one that's going to haunt me.)

but in adaptations, we don't see that slow chipping away of personhood, of identity, of belongings and comfort. it's kicked out of the workhouse - hair cut off - prostitute - dead. bamatabois is changed from an arrogant, wealthy asshole with nothing better to do with his time than torment those less fortunate than him for the crime of merely existing to a potential customer who gets angry when fantine turns him down. by adding that dynamic to their interaction it softens bamatabois' cruelty, makes it less about an act of completely unprovoked dehumanisation and, well, cruelty against someone vulnerable that was answered by that person snapping and lashing out.

bamatabois in the book did not just target fantine because she was a sex worker, but also because her hair was cut, because she had no front teeth, because of how she dressed, how she behaved - in short, she was an acceptable target.

it feels as though the people adapting the novel don't understand that the tragedy and horror of fantine's fate was not the fact that she had to sell sex for money, but the fact that she had to give up everything of herself to the point where she was an unrecognisable wretch drinking brandy to keep the misery at bay with the only thing keeping her alive being her love for cosette. even the tooth removal, when it is adapted, is changed to her back teeth, making fantine's loss less visible and more palatable, and is oft ignored in favour of focusing on fantine's work as a sex worker in a way the book never does, not realising that the sex work was a symptom, not the disease.