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it’s not a WIP anymore :)))))))))))

me opening the WIP I haven’t touched in 6 months.

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sometimes you need to go through a cuba beach divorce in order to get your paris chess proposal.

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I arrive here from ao3 after binge reading your bad times in Brooklyn series and applaud you for making me feel. The characters are *chefs kiss* and now my standards are too high for other fan fiction. I also (slightly guiltily) wonder if you may one day write the last chapter of the 4th work? As a writer myself I know that motivation falls short, so you don’t have to, but just know that I loved it anyway.

hello hello! thank you for reading, and thanks even more for moseying on down here to leave such lovely compliments! 🥳✨

the short answer is: yes, the final chapter is coming, just at a very slow pace.

now the long answer, if you’d like to hear me ramble: I’ve been doing that writer thing where I stare at the open document, reread the previous chapters, try to write, write one sentence, and close the document for another few weeks before touching it again.

it’s slow going, but I’m making progress. I’ve reached the point where I have most of the major scenes done, but now I need to string them together in a way that makes sense.

should things change, I’ll be sure to update the tags to reflect that the work is abandoned & incomplete, but until that day comes, you can definitely consider the series an active work-in-progress!

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wow, thank you! album cover art is now included in the google drive link :)

🖤 audio gift 🖤

The Phantom of the Opera - London - August 11, 2022 - Tracked

Killian Donnelly, Holly-Anne Hull (alt), Matt Blaker

Keep reading

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If you don’t mind me asking, were there any understudies on for the Ensemble parts of The Performance of Phantom you saw on August 11, 2022?

hi there! unfortunately I was not able to find a full cast list for the performance, but I do know that @littleeliza-lotte was at the same performance and posted this video of the curtain call. you may be able to recognize some faces!

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🖤 audio gift 🖤

The Phantom of the Opera - London - August 11, 2022 - Tracked

Killian Donnelly, Holly-Anne Hull (alt), Matt Blaker

Full Cast: Killian Donnelly (The Phantom), Holly-Anne Hull (alt. Christine), Matt Blaker (Raoul), Kelly Glyptis (Carlotta), Adam Linstead (M. André), Matt Harrop (M. Firmin), Greg Castiglioni (Piangi), Francesca Ellis (Mme. Giry), Ellie Young (Meg)

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/110hm2sJDtoF94Lb4AIibYplDbTYaVgBM?usp=sharing

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saw phantom live for the first time ever earlier this week... truly a surreal experience.

I did manage to get an audio recording of the performance, so here’s a little tidbit for you all to enjoy until I have time to track the rest of the show! :)

**please do not repost this audio outside of tumblr**

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Hatstand has had many lovers since then, but none have managed to make them feel the way that he did... Flowerstand reveal fix-it. One-shot.

tags: hatstand x throrgan endgame, past hatstand x everyone, implied hatstand x chandelier

100% crack fic dedicated to @wheel-of-fish saturday streams and the philly phanatic

Hatstand stroked a hook down the grand old mirror gently. Though the humans were largely oblivious to the matter, just past this mirror there lay a world of wonder and heartbreak and mystique, a world which Hat had found themself unwittingly thrown into nearly three years prior when the human male had first appeared to the girl whom Hatstand guarded. That world… that dark, swirling world… it seemed like a lifetime ago. Though, Hat supposed, it wasn’t all bad. It had been in that world, after all, that they had found the greatest pleasure of their life, fleeting as that splendor may have been.

Throrgan hadn’t been like the furniture Hat had been with in the past. Throrgan had been passionate and eccentric and caring and surprisingly sweet under his dark and moody exterior, and, though small, Throrgan had certainly known his way around his keys. All 154 of them.

Their time together had been short but blissful, and Hatstand had been foolish enough to believe they might have had something real, especially when Throrgan had introduced them to his litter of energetic young candelabras and the children had enthusiastically accepted Hat as a guardian and parent.

But it wasn’t meant to be, Hatstand supposed, because the passion had died in the end: the stretches between visits growing longer as Throrgan’s charge spent more and more nights composing, the nights of true romance growing rarer as Throrgan’s energy waned, the sweet nothings he had once whispered in Hat’s ears turning strained and out-of-tune.

Still, what Hat wouldn’t do for just once more chance to hold Throrgan in their hooks and kiss each of his decorative skulls.

They’d had flings since them, certainly, but none had ever managed to make Hat feel the way Throrgan managed to: regal, special, loved.

Countess Dress had been quaint and lovely but fussy and demanding. Mirror Bride had been brazen and witty but cold and stiff whenever she fell into a mood. Moreover, she lived mere feet from Throrgan’s own domain, which always made visits to her home tense and awkward, and things had quickly fizzled between the two. And the others—Cane, Cloak, Angel—couldn’t even compare.

Hatstand sighed, their hooks drooping ever so slightly. The hats they held bounced and settled with the new position.

“Hatstand?” Asked an echoing voice tentatively.

“Darling!” Hatstand pulled back in surprise, though the end of their hook still lingered on the cold glass. “I was just—”

“Thinking of him again, weren’t you?” Cut in Chandelier, though not unkindly.

Hat swallowed, their hooks winding into self-conscious curlicues.

“I know it’s foolish,” they said, “It’s been years, Chan. I shouldn’t be so hung up on a centerpiece I was only seeing for a few months.”

Chandelier’s warm light intensified, engulfing Hatstand in it’s golden glow.

“Yes,” she agreed, “It has been years. Yet your passion for him hasn’t waned in all that time. You still think of him often. That must mean something.”

Hat’s empty hooks twisted together in an anxious knot, much like their human charge might wring her fingers in a fit of nervousness.

“Do you suppose he still thinks of me?”

Chandelier twinkled knowingly. “If half the things you’ve told me about your relationship are true, then I don’t know how he could ever forget.”

Hat suppressed a small giggle at the memories of nights drunk on varnish and kerosene spent gossiping about past lovers with Chandelier. They turned toward the mirror once more, thoughts sobering with yet another daydream of that fantastical world below.

“I think… I have to go, Chan,” Hatstand said quietly. Chandelier’s lights flickered softly, flames growing dim and tiny.

“I understand,” she whispered, “You belong down there. With him.”

“You aren’t upset?”

Chandelier brightened. “Oh, Hat,” she said, “You know I love you. You know we all do. You’ve been the backbone of our little family since the moment you first arrived. But you’ve never been truly happy up here, not since you met Throrgan. You deserve to find someone who can make you just as happy as you’ve made us all these years.”

Hat softened at Chandelier’s words, but hesitated still, one last thought lingering in their mind.

“If I leave… who will watch over the girl?”

“Flowerstand will take your place,” Chandelier assured gently, “You know she will. She wants only your happiness, just as I do.”

The flicker of her lights turned low and conspiratorial, then, flames dancing wildly as they licked through the air.

“Besides,” she continued, a bit of humor bubbling in her voice, “The Prima Donna’s been unbearable ever since your girl took the stage. Flower’s been dying to get out of that room.”

Hatstand chuckled. Yes, the human diva had been a handful as of late, storming through the opera house’s halls and demanding attention from everyone she crossed. Though Flower had resided in the Prima Donna’s dressing room for quite some time now, she’d confided many times that to suddenly see the human in such a raging flurry had begun to take its toll.

“Okay,” whispered Hat, “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Chandelier’s glow was nearly blinding as she swelled with emotion. From her position high above the stage, it was easy for Chandelier to spread the word to the rest of the sentient furniture, and soon enough all had gathered in Hatstand’s dressing room to bid them farewell.

Flowerstand was the last to approach Hatstand, her flowers in full bloom. She took one of Hat’s hooks warmly in her petals.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Hat,” she murmured sweetly, the scent of her pink and white bulbs swirling in her breath.

Hat’s wood darkened to a cherry shade as they blushed. “Me, too,” they murmured.

The two embraced, and as she pulled back from the hug, Flower tucked one of her blossoms into the top hat on Hat’s hook.

“Go get ‘em,” she whispered with her teasing, tinkling laugh.

Hatstand took a final glance around the small dressing room they had come to call home. Behind them, Flowerstand pulled herself into position in the corner that Hat once filled. Hatstand drew themself high, straightened their delicately carved hooks, and with a deep breath, crossed the threshold into the hidden lair.

                 • • •

There were no humans around as Hatstand wandered the winding halls of the Opera House’s underground system.

“Throrgan?” Hat’s voice carried swiftly through the dark, echoing abyss of the human’s lair.

Water dripped somewhere nearby, but just below that came a sound Hat would recognize anywhere. A melody that could only come from Throrgan’s keys echoed against the stone, playing something mournful and slow, and Hatstand’s heart stuttered.

Their pace quickened as they followed the sound, called by the music and lured through the darkness, transfixed by the enchanting way that only Throrgan could manage to bewitch a soul with his tunes.

Soon enough Hat found themself rounding the corner to a wide open space, and stiffened with what they saw. There lay Throrgan, in as radiant and pristine a condition as ever, stooped low over his music as his keys depressed in a heavenly tune.

Hat’s breath caught, struck mute with the beauty of the music, and they found themself standing frozen in the entryway, unable to even call out Throrgan’s name as the music and the memories overtook them.

The music stopped, then, damper pedal releasing with a thud, and Hat snapped from their trance with a sharp inhale.

“Hat?” Throrgan’s voice was fraught with disbelief, “Is that really you?”

“Throrgan,” breathed Hatstand.

“You came back,” said Throrgan, notes high and delicate like he wasn’t sure if Hatstand was a vision or a reality.

“I love you,” Hatstand replied, emotion welling beneath their dark brown finish, “I never stopped loving you.”

Throrgan’s keys were silent, the flames that decorated his exterior pulsing. “Hat,” he murmured, “I—”

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Hat hiccuped, closing the distance between the two as their hooks unfurled, dropping the hats they supported in favor of reaching out for their true love.

“I missed you,” gasped Throrgan, the notes exploding out of him, “I missed you more than my music could express. I never should have neglected you. You were—are—the most precious thing in my life, and I never should have made you feel as if that were not true.”

“Throrgan,” Hat said again, caressing each skull and each candle and each organ pipe, unable to get enough of the feel of their lover.

Throrgan’s notes turned bold and loud and romantic as the two embraced, Hat’s hooks winding tightly throughout Throrgan’s delicate handiwork.

Around them, the candelabras danced and swirled at a frenetic pace, and for the first time in nearly two years, Hatstand was truly at peace.

            - - - - -

Erik made his way deftly through the secret passages of his underground home. The day had been long, filled with hours of spying on Christine and the Vicomte and providing constructive feedback to the stupid managers on the way they were running things. As he entered his room, a strange new sight gave him pause.

“Where the fuck did this hatstand come from?” He mused.

Erik shrugged. Likely it was a gift from Madame Giry; perhaps an old prop that had fallen out of use in the opera house. With a sigh, he flung his cloak and hat over the hooks and crouched over his throrgan, prepared to write the horniest stage directions of all time.

~fin

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Just read your B99 fic where Jake gets two head injuries and a broken wrist and i just gotta say

AHHHHHHHH

I was literally screaming at him the whole time like dumbass (affectionate)

Anyway just wanted to say SUCH a good fic askjshsdh I enjoyed it so so much

oh god that fic was truly jake’s peak of dumbass… in his defense nothing after that first concussion can be held against him and he was trying his best okay.

honestly when I originally drafted the story it was supposed to be about a concussed jake working backwards to try and figure out the case he was working on based on the clues left behind and then it uhhhh. it really got away from me.

that was also the first times that I’ve written something where an oc was heavily incorporated into the plot, and marissa was actually supposed to be like a foil to jake by being the really smart and capable one in the whole situation and then she somehow ended up becoming just as much of a dumbass as jake, which is about 80% of the reason that things go as poorly as they do.

anyway, ahhh I’m so glad you enjoyed it haha and thank you so much for this ask because it has once again reminded me that I really do need to finish up that final chapter because it’s been uhhh *checks notes frantically* oh jesus 16 months since I updated 🥲

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writing on my laptop at my desk: boring, drab, cliché

writing in the notes app of my phone: furtive, sexy, inspired

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step 1: conceptualize fic

step 2: plot out intricate details of fic

step 3: avoid actually writing fic

step 4: eventually get bored of fic and abandon it for a new project

step 5: repeat.

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i can’t stop thinking about this.

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@wheel-of-fish’s saturday stream, but the context is taking a nap with piangi

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erik: “do not fear for miss daaé”

raoul: “well I wasn’t that worried until right now, the fuck??”

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I just really think that having christine daaé’s wishing dress would solve a lot of my problems.

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gotham citizen 1: dude did you hear the news?? bruce wayne is fuckin’ batman!

gotham citizen 2: bruce wayne is having sex with batman?!?