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cricketnationrise · 43 minutes

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#dirty minds worldwide

#hi mj #cee #sara #evie #hattie #peaches #poutini #sheena........#i've been loving queue

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cricketnationrise · 1 hour

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some sentence sunday 24.6

thanks to @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @cha-melodius @kiwiana-writes @sparklepocalypse and @orchidscript for the tags so far!

as i have recently finished three (3!!!) different fics, posted one, and am waiting on scheduling for the other two, i naturally started something new so i could share something non-spoilery

for all my Tortall Girlies (gn, more than affectionate) out there, I started working on part two of my Kel College Hockey universe (Part 1 is here!)

Beads of sweat are threatening to drip into Kel’s eyes as she completes another lap of the hilly Corus University campus. Most of her team has scattered for the summer break, but Kel’s parents have a townhouse in Corus itself, and she was more than willing to stick around. The proximity certainly makes it easier to keep up with her training; Coach Cavall wouldn’t miss a beat dismissing her if she didn’t keep up with the guys on her team. If Neal could see her now, he’d give her one of his patented exasperated looks and berate her for her over-achievement. Kel can hear his argument clear as a bell inside her head. Just because The Stump suggests something doesn’t mean you have to do it! Unfortunately for Neal, her own response is ready: if Cavall was going to suggest adding a weight harness to her cardio routines to up her endurance on the ice, why wouldn’t she take the advice?

an open tag for anyone who wants to play and some below the cut!

@magicandarchery @thoughtsofthegirlwiththecurl @missanniewhimsy @tintagel-or-cockleshells @firenati0n

@inexplicablymine @cactusdragon517 @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @leaves-of-laurelin @itsmaybitheway

@welcometololaland @three-drink-amy @anincompletelist @indestructibleheart @tailsbeth-writes

@porcelainmortal @wordsofhoneydew @sherryvalli @iboatedhere @the-lincyclopedia

@celeritas2997 @everwitch-magiks @dumbpeachjuice @onthewaytosomewhere @anchoredarchangel

#cricket writes #some sentence sunday #tortall #keladry of mindelan #hockey au #wip: i'll rise like the dawn #a rare case of cricket having a title before she starts writing

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cricketnationrise · 2 hours

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Hiiii! for the ficlet fest c: 5:21am. Kensington Palace. Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor. Song Lyric: "Even though this white wall is unchanging. The morning sun shines on it, and the clock moves forward. I keep moving further away. From the seasons we spent together"

OH HELLO FRIEND. sorry in advance, this one is a bunch of arthur feels. you have been warned.

read the rest of the ficlets here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

5:21am, kensington

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

In the hours of false dawn, the only sound in Henry’s room is the ticking of the ornate, heirloom, and completely gaudy grandfather clock. Every swing of the pendulum marks another moment that Henry should still be asleep—another moment closer to his next event.

Another moment that his dad has been gone.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Henry’s insomnia didn’t appear until after the cancer had ravaged his father’s body, had hollowed out his mother, had transformed Philip into someone he didn’t recognize, and had sent Bea careening down a path Henry could not follow. Even now, months after he and Bea clawed their way back to each other and settled as much as possible into the new normal, it seems the broken sleep is here to stay.

He’s doing better, on the whole. Regular therapy appointments—despite the Queen’s disdain for the whole endeavor—and medication have gotten Henry to the point where he can get through most days. He can put on a media face (bland, inoffensive, stoic, proper) and get through whatever nonsense The Crown has sent him to attend without visibly crumbling to pieces. It’s at night, with no distractions or witnesses, that Henry can let the mask fade away—can feel.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It's still strange to think that his dad is gone. Every day is another one that Arthur won’t be there for. He won’t get to do another puzzle with Bea. He won’t see Henry graduate from uni. He won’t be there to see the next season at the Globe. He won’t be there when the Queen starts insisting Henry join the military. He just won’t be there, his absence a dark cloud over every triumph and fall, every mundane moment and milestone from here on out.

But Henry will be here, stuck in this gilded cage of tradition and expectations—staring at the white walls of his bedroom, unable to fall asleep.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The sun is actually coming up now—a wearily familiar sight. As much as Henry wishes he could sleep like he used to, the golden glow on his bedroom walls is beautiful. The sunlight is dappled today, peeking through the leaves of the tall trees on the grounds of Kensington, creating an intricate, ever-shifting pattern of shadows as the sun rises.

Henry thinks could write an entire anthology of poems about sunrises, actually. There’s something poignant about the juxtaposition of a new day while he’s still looking out of the chasm his dad’s death left inside him. He can see clear sky at the rim, but the light feels so far away.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

He knows Dad wouldn’t have wanted Henry to be so despondent, would have wanted Henry to be living his life as much as possible. Would have wanted Henry to find a way to move forward into his future. He knows that Arthur would have been the most excited to meet Henry’s therapy dog later today.

The idea was brought up by his therapist a month ago, and today it is finally happening. Henry was going to meet the dog that had been picked out for him. Hopefully he and the dog will be a good match or the whole process will start all over again. Henry would be stressing about it, but—

With bright sunlight climbing up the walls, the gentle ticking of the clock, and the memory of his father’s smile at the forefront of his mind, Henry has a good feeling about the day ahead.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

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cricketnationrise · 2 hours

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@cha-melodius re: my crimes--

Hiiii! for the ficlet fest c: 5:21am. Kensington Palace. Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor. Song Lyric: "Even though this white wall is unchanging. The morning sun shines on it, and the clock moves forward. I keep moving further away. From the seasons we spent together"

OH HELLO FRIEND. sorry in advance, this one is a bunch of arthur feels. you have been warned.

read the rest of the ficlets here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

5:21am, kensington

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

In the hours of false dawn, the only sound in Henry’s room is the ticking of the ornate, heirloom, and completely gaudy grandfather clock. Every swing of the pendulum marks another moment that Henry should still be asleep—another moment closer to his next event.

Another moment that his dad has been gone.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Henry’s insomnia didn’t appear until after the cancer had ravaged his father’s body, had hollowed out his mother, had transformed Philip into someone he didn’t recognize, and had sent Bea careening down a path Henry could not follow. Even now, months after he and Bea clawed their way back to each other and settled as much as possible into the new normal, it seems the broken sleep is here to stay.

He’s doing better, on the whole. Regular therapy appointments—despite the Queen’s disdain for the whole endeavor—and medication have gotten Henry to the point where he can get through most days. He can put on a media face (bland, inoffensive, stoic, proper) and get through whatever nonsense The Crown has sent him to attend without visibly crumbling to pieces. It’s at night, with no distractions or witnesses, that Henry can let the mask fade away—can feel.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It's still strange to think that his dad is gone. Every day is another one that Arthur won’t be there for. He won’t get to do another puzzle with Bea. He won’t see Henry graduate from uni. He won’t be there to see the next season at the Globe. He won’t be there when the Queen starts insisting Henry join the military. He just won’t be there, his absence a dark cloud over every triumph and fall, every mundane moment and milestone from here on out.

But Henry will be here, stuck in this gilded cage of tradition and expectations—staring at the white walls of his bedroom, unable to fall asleep.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The sun is actually coming up now—a wearily familiar sight. As much as Henry wishes he could sleep like he used to, the golden glow on his bedroom walls is beautiful. The sunlight is dappled today, peeking through the leaves of the tall trees on the grounds of Kensington, creating an intricate, ever-shifting pattern of shadows as the sun rises.

Henry thinks could write an entire anthology of poems about sunrises, actually. There’s something poignant about the juxtaposition of a new day while he’s still looking out of the chasm his dad’s death left inside him. He can see clear sky at the rim, but the light feels so far away.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

He knows Dad wouldn’t have wanted Henry to be so despondent, would have wanted Henry to be living his life as much as possible. Would have wanted Henry to find a way to move forward into his future. He knows that Arthur would have been the most excited to meet Henry’s therapy dog later today.

The idea was brought up by his therapist a month ago, and today it is finally happening. Henry was going to meet the dog that had been picked out for him. Hopefully he and the dog will be a good match or the whole process will start all over again. Henry would be stressing about it, but—

With bright sunlight climbing up the walls, the gentle ticking of the clock, and the memory of his father’s smile at the forefront of his mind, Henry has a good feeling about the day ahead.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

#right there on the box #f;uagfhe #love you sara

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cricketnationrise · 2 hours

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#i've been loving queue

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cricketnationrise · 4 hours

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I have to admit. I am not living la vida loca

#i've been loving queue

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cricketnationrise · 20 hours

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Hiiii! for the ficlet fest c: 5:21am. Kensington Palace. Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor. Song Lyric: "Even though this white wall is unchanging. The morning sun shines on it, and the clock moves forward. I keep moving further away. From the seasons we spent together"

OH HELLO FRIEND. sorry in advance, this one is a bunch of arthur feels. you have been warned.

read the rest of the ficlets here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

5:21am, kensington

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

In the hours of false dawn, the only sound in Henry’s room is the ticking of the ornate, heirloom, and completely gaudy grandfather clock. Every swing of the pendulum marks another moment that Henry should still be asleep—another moment closer to his next event.

Another moment that his dad has been gone.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Henry’s insomnia didn’t appear until after the cancer had ravaged his father’s body, had hollowed out his mother, had transformed Philip into someone he didn’t recognize, and had sent Bea careening down a path Henry could not follow. Even now, months after he and Bea clawed their way back to each other and settled as much as possible into the new normal, it seems the broken sleep is here to stay.

He’s doing better, on the whole. Regular therapy appointments—despite the Queen’s disdain for the whole endeavor—and medication have gotten Henry to the point where he can get through most days. He can put on a media face (bland, inoffensive, stoic, proper) and get through whatever nonsense The Crown has sent him to attend without visibly crumbling to pieces. It’s at night, with no distractions or witnesses, that Henry can let the mask fade away—can feel.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It's still strange to think that his dad is gone. Every day is another one that Arthur won’t be there for. He won’t get to do another puzzle with Bea. He won’t see Henry graduate from uni. He won’t be there to see the next season at the Globe. He won’t be there when the Queen starts insisting Henry join the military. He just won’t be there, his absence a dark cloud over every triumph and fall, every mundane moment and milestone from here on out.

But Henry will be here, stuck in this gilded cage of tradition and expectations—staring at the white walls of his bedroom, unable to fall asleep.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The sun is actually coming up now—a wearily familiar sight. As much as Henry wishes he could sleep like he used to, the golden glow on his bedroom walls is beautiful. The sunlight is dappled today, peeking through the leaves of the tall trees on the grounds of Kensington, creating an intricate, ever-shifting pattern of shadows as the sun rises.

Henry thinks could write an entire anthology of poems about sunrises, actually. There’s something poignant about the juxtaposition of a new day while he’s still looking out of the chasm his dad’s death left inside him. He can see clear sky at the rim, but the light feels so far away.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

He knows Dad wouldn’t have wanted Henry to be so despondent, would have wanted Henry to be living his life as much as possible. Would have wanted Henry to find a way to move forward into his future. He knows that Arthur would have been the most excited to meet Henry’s therapy dog later today.

The idea was brought up by his therapist a month ago, and today it is finally happening. Henry was going to meet the dog that had been picked out for him. Hopefully he and the dog will be a good match or the whole process will start all over again. Henry would be stressing about it, but—

With bright sunlight climbing up the walls, the gentle ticking of the clock, and the memory of his father’s smile at the forefront of his mind, Henry has a good feeling about the day ahead.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

#cricket writes #read-and-write-#ficlet fest 500 #rwrb #pov henry #arthur feels abounding

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cricketnationrise · 22 hours

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Practical Magic (1998) dir. Griffin Dunne

#i've been loving queue

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cricketnationrise · 23 hours

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shitposting today.. choose your fighter

#i've been loving queue

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cricketnationrise · 1 day

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20 questions for fic writers

Thanks to @cha-melodius, @kiwiana-writes, and @happiness-of-the-pursuit for the tags!

How many works do you have on ao3?

253

What's your total ao3 word count?

481,635

What fandoms do you write for?

RWRB, Check Please!, Tortall, verrrry occassionally The Parasol Protectorate

Top five fics by kudos:

Going Platinum - camboy!Alex AU

Burnin' Through the Sky - speed dating meet-cute

Set in Platinum - camboy!Alex sequel

warm from the inside out - some stuff happens under a desk 😉

Downburst - In The Shadow of Two Gunmen/West Wing AU

Do you respond to comments?

I have responded to every comment so far!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't tend to write angsty endings. That being said, this Check, Please! ficlet I wrote for @shygryf is very angsty: Hotel Room, Mar. 1 (I did fix it with a later ficlet, but on it's own...)

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of them tbh. I'm an unrepentant happy ending lover.

Do you get hate on fics?

Nothing that comes to mind--I've been extremely lucky. I've gotten some baffling ones and some with a strange tone, but I think that's more down to English not being their first language, not hate.

Do you write smut?

Yes.

Craziest crossover:

I tend toward fusions/AUs rather than actual crossovers. Although there are Check Please! easter eggs in the Going Platinum universe.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of, although I would hope that any translator would have let me know so that I can flail in overwhelmed gratitude.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet, although there's one that's been sitting for a year-ish that I'm gonna be really excited to finally get to.

All time favorite ship?

I won't choose and you can't make me.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Not right now. All the wips I've got that are more than just like, one line or a title, I'm really excited about writing and sharing.

What are your writing strengths?

Immersive descriptions, humor, and metaphors. This bitch loves a metaphor.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes. I'm getting better, but any time I have a particularly big action scene I beg on my knees for @cha-melodius to get into the doc.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Only If I feel confident about the translation. I'll usually get a native speaker to check it over if it's more than an easy phrase I already know/can google, especially if it's a whole conversation.

First fandom you wrote in?

Check, Please!

Favorite fic you've written?

You're so mean to me making me pick. Le sigh, fine.

Check, Please!: How Delightful if that Were True - Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society AU (100% homegrown epistolary baybee)

RWRB: More Than Brick and Mortar - sentient Brownstone AU, magical realism

Tortall: i'll rise up in spite of the ache - hockey AU of First Test

Parasol Protectorate: No Small Matter - 5+1 pranks on Conall that I wrote for @homobiwan

(narrowing these down was absolute agony, btw. hope you're happy.)

Tags under the cut, but if you wanna do this, who am I to stop you? Aka consider this your open tag.

@celeritas2997 @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @anincompletelist

@firenati0n @missanniewhimsy @montrealmadison @doggernaut @parvuls

#cricket writes #writer games #20 questions #rwrb #omgcp #tortall #parasol protectorate #check please #personal faves

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cricketnationrise · 1 day

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oh my god i was LITERALLY just thinking about clem the other day and how it had been a long time since i'd seen a picture of her. so when i saw the video of clem with her scratcher i was so fucking excited, so thank you for that, it made mt entire week 🥹 ANYWAY hi clem !! hope all is well 💖🍊

Aww yay!! Have some more recent(ish) Clem pics!