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Tagged by the wonderfully talented @abubblingcandle

RULES: post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence

This is from my slow horses big bang as well

Louisa leaned against the counter, breathing through the latest reminder of her injury and forcing her face carefully neutral as River appeared in the entryway.

I don’t think I know 25 people that haven’t been tagged yet lmao but no pressure tagging @tenderlywicked @tenderhooked @needafantasyforthis @hr-twink @timrousbeastie @louisaguy @lord-owlsnake @altschmerzes

Last Sentence Tag Game

RULES: post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence

Thank you to @lowkeyed1 and @aurorawest for the tag.

Let's see...

Loki played translator, which was…tedious.

That's 6 words, so I shall tag...........

@nostalgia-tblr @adrift-in-thyme @nildespirandum @clawedandcute @cenobitic-anchorite and @villainousshakespeare

And there are plenty of people I almost tagged, but I wasn't sure if they are currently writing.

[cartwrong]

☀️july fic roundup💦

ok because of the delay im probably missing something but oh well

[-----MADE ME INSANE-----]

🥈where you end by @no-way-0ut

🥉pussy indulgence by @im-being-so-normal-about-this

Bite Into Me Harder [chapter 2] by @countessrivers

The Descent by @gingeragenda and @admirably-abhorrent

[ch11-13]

🥇 👁️🔨🚬🎀Break a Leg by @cakebatteronabrickwall [ch4-6]

[-----😳🤭🫡(WHOREADS)-----]

🏆 soggy cereal by @thestarmanfrom1975

bad idea, right? by @im-being-so-normal-about-this

👆where you end by @no-way-0ut

🏆 👆 🦫pussy indulgence by @im-being-so-normal-about-this

🏆 🏆 The Descent by @gingeragenda and @admirably-abhorrent [ch11, ch12, ch13]

Break a Leg by @cakebatteronabrickwall [👆🥩ch4, ch5]

[-----POOR BABY(WHUMP)-----]

🔨☹️where you end by @no-way-0ut

just slip out the back by @im-being-so-normal-about-this

Pain Is Cold Water by @im-being-so-normal-about-this

Would You Even Want Me?  by NoxFox03

[-----INTRIGUED-----]

into the trees with empty hands by @cartwrong

The Descent by @gingeragenda and @admirably-abhorrent

👁️(unlike men) the diamonds linger by @thelastdeadletter

[-----CUTE-----]

🐶soggy cereal by @thestarmanfrom1975

Stranded by Narni

Bite Into Me Harder [chapter 2] by @countessrivers

Splashes and Smiles by @im-being-so-normal-about-this

[----LMAO (crack)----]

Turmoil by NoxFox03

Would You Even Want Me?  by NoxFox03

Awards and Medals (i have no methodology and fully make up new awards)::

Medals of Insanity: 🥇🥈🥉 Slut trophy: 🏆 Fingers in His Mouth Friday Award: 👆 Beefcake Awareness: 🥩 Dog🫵:🐶 Beaver Rehabilitation Award: 🦫 The golden cigarette award: 🚬 Bias award (beta or was parasitic to the author): 👁️ BARBIE DOLL :🎀 tummy hurt: ☹️ 'He can't keep getting away with this' award for excellence in Lore Building: 🔨

[cartwrong]

Jack Lowden as River Cartwright Slow Horses, Season 4

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[cartwrong]

I was tagged by the talented @cartwrong but was tardy with my Six Sentences Sunday post, so by way of compensation I present:

More sentences Monday

He couldn’t be that much older than herself, Diana thought, but he had a lot more field experience, already feted at the Park.

She knew Charles Partner had been his handler until a few years ago, when Partner was promoted out of the handlers ranks and into management, on his way to the Second Desk he had recently come to occupy. How David Cartwright, a middle-ranking Suit, fitted into all this she hadn’t yet worked out. She’d barely heard of him and being summoned and ordered to do this job, no questions asked, had been an abrupt introduction to the man.

Still, he might be a useful connection, if she impressed him. If the op went well, it wouldn’t hurt to be known for being handy to have in a tight spot amongst field agents like Lamb either.

No pressure but very excited if mutuals join in!

[cartwrong]

Six Sentence Sunday

I was tagged by the wonderfully talented @disappearinginq

The kid was safe.

That was all that mattered, the kid was safe, long gone. Louisa looked down the barrel of the gun pointed at her face, taking comfort that the last thing she would do was save someone. She was going to die as a slow horse, but she wasn’t going to die a complete failure.

I’m sorry, she offered a silent apology to her parents, her sister, to Catherine, to Shirley, to Lamb, to River.

Louisa closed her eyes and waited for the end.

No pressure tagging @timrousbeastie @cillmequick @hr-twink @thewildballyntynesgrow and @tenderhooked

[cartwrong]

I was tagged by @cartwrong (if you haven't read their work, go check 'em out!!! It's good stuff, especially if you're a fan of River whump!) to post the last seven sentences I wrote. Thank you!!!! Here's a lil sneak preview at my Outsider POV fic I'm doing for the Slow Horses Big Bang!

(Don't count the sentences. Just pretend it's seven. Sssh.)

"Gemma," River repeats. "Are you doing okay?" "I should be asking you that. You're the one who looks like Carrie at the prom. Carrie is a movie." River looks indignant. "I know what Carrie is! I mean, haven't seen it. But I know the reference!" "Well, you don't know who Jason Statham is," Gemma points out.

As per usual, I don't know who to tag in this thing. So if you're interested in participating, consider yourself tagged! And if you'd like to be tagged in this kind of post in the future, lmk! (:

[cartwrong]

I was tagged by the amazingly talented @jamiesfootball to post the last seven sentences I wrote. Thank you 🤍

(Also offering bit more than seven because it didn’t make much sense without a bit more lead up)

“And we’re trusting Roddy?” River asked.

“Against my better judgement, but we don’t have much of a choice,” Louisa answered.

“What’re you worried about?” Shirley questioned, eying River. “Isn’t this kind of your thing?”

“My thing?” River echoed.

“Yeah, you’re thing. The hero thing.”

River huffed a noise of objection before eying Louisa in the rearview mirror. She shrugged. She couldn’t bring herself to object.

“I don’t have a hero –”

“Helena said their accents were German,” Louisa interrupted.

No pressure tagging @disappearinginq @whumpdoyoumean and @tenderhooked

[cartwrong]

ice that

prompt: "brace yourself"

whumpee: river cartwright

fandom: slough house/slow horses

heya here's a little sh fic for ya tonight! i'm currently rereading the series following a rewatch of the show and the idea for this one just settled into my mind. it's set around book/season 3 i suppose just cause that's what i'm currently on. hope you like!

He knows it’s broken from the feeling of the punch alone. The crunching sound that accompanies it and the near-immediate flow of hot blood down his face add to his certainty about what’s just happened. 

He’s on the ground, the force of the hit having taken his legs out from under him, and his nose has just been broken by the man he’d been tailing–he shouldn’t have been tailing him at all, but there you have it–who has already disappeared into the thin, but not insubstantial, late-night crowd.

Pedestrians step around River as he struggles back to his feet, not a one of them offering a hand or even anything more than a glance. 

Typical. 

He leans his head forward, pinches his nose and then immediately takes his hand away. 

“Fuck,” he groans. That hurts. 

Abandoning his nose to freely bleed down his face and onto his already ruined shirt, he orients himself in the path of the first place that comes to mind.

Slough House.

It’s going on two in the morning, and–River hopes–there’s little chance of anyone, save perhaps Lamb, who he isn’t entirely sure doesn’t live there, being around. 

He’ll be free to mop up his blood in peace. 

The lights are off when he arrives, which is promising. He kicks the door harder than usual upon entry, an outward expression of the sharp pain radiating out from the center of his face, and steps into the silence of Slough House. 

The air is musty and faintly mildewy, same as always. River could navigate the building blind, but flicks on a lightswitch and immediately regrets it. His head hurts. He switches it back off and navigates on muscle memory.

He means to go up to the bathroom and tidy himself up, then stop by the kitchen to make use of the first-aid kit, but he doesn’t make it that far. 

A distinctive thump echoes from above. It’s fainter than he’s accustomed to hearing, not being on his own floor, but in case there was any doubt about the source, it’s followed up by a, “Cartwright!” 

River sighs, which makes his nose hurt and sends a fine spray of blood flying through the air. Of course Lamb is here. He’d probably been passed out at his desk. Perhaps on the floor. 

He climbs up the stairs and wishes he’d chosen to go literally anywhere else. Not that he’d had many other options. 

Lamb’s office is pitch-black, but as soon as River enters, the light turns on, clearly for dramatic effect. 

River winces and squints. Lamb makes a noise that could plausibly be one of mild interest, although odds are even it’s a fart gone squeaky. 

“What the fuck happened to you?”

River shrugs. “Got punched,” he says, the words thick with blood. 

“I can see that. Why?”

Another shrug. He doesn’t want to explain. Doesn’t want to say, because I was tailing that guy you told me not to tail, because I got bored of sitting around all day and reading his mail. 

“Went chasing after Hansen, did you?”

Lamb’s tone suggests he already knows this for certain. 

River nods, which makes his head spin, just a bit. 

“And? Learn anything?”

“...No.”

“Right.” Lamb looks at him, then shrugs and absentmindedly scratches an armpit. “Don’t suppose you know what to do with that?” He gestures to River’s face. 

“Uh,” River says, eloquently. 

“That’s a no, then?”

“No.”

Lamb rewards this admission with a very peeved sigh. “Come here, then.”

River blinks. “What.”

“What, did he hit you round the ears, too? Come over here.”

Left with little alternative save turning tail and running, River complies. 

Lamb shifts himself out of his chair with a movement that, despite his bulk, appears effortless. He scrutinizes River’s face, his own face entirely too close and smelling of stale take-out. 

“Brace yourself,” he says, and River scarcely has time to wonder what he means before he’s finding out. 

Lamb’s hands place themselves on either side of his nose, and he doesn’t have enough time to pull away, to shout a refusal to this surely awful idea, before they’re pushing in to meet each other. 

There’s another crunch. The pain spikes, then dulls. More blood flows down his face. 

“Mop that up,” Lamb says, tossing River a rag. 

River presses the rag to his face without thinking too hard about where it’d come from, sopping up the blood. After a few seconds, he’s pleased to note, the bleeding stops. 

Lamb scrutinizes him again when he removes the rag. “Not bad. Back to your usual ugly mug.”

“Thanks,” River says. He means it to come out sarcastic and biting, but the word lacks venom. 

“Uh huh,” Lamb replies, wiping River’s blood onto his pants and scratching his cheek like this sort of thing happens every day. 

“Right. Okay. I’ll just–I’ll just leave, then, shall I?” He feels like something is missing, and half expects to be told to pay up for services rendered. He stands around a few seconds more, waiting for something to happen, until Lamb speaks.

“There a reason you’re still here? Expecting a get-well-soon card, are you?”

River turns to leave, wiping his sleeve across the blood now dried to his face. 

“Cartwright?”

He turns around again. “Yeah?”

“Ice that.”

From anyone else, the command would be just that. From Lamb, though, River knows it’s as close to an admission of genuine care and concern as is humanly possible. 

“Yeah, alright,” he responds, and makes his way back out into the night.

thanks for reading!!! love ya <33

[cartwrong]

Seven More Sentences Sunday Monday

Tagged by @dragonnan and I'm not normally near a computer on the weekends, so as always, I am a day off. But time is a construct.

From a Slow Horses fic that I don't really know how to describe other than "awkward people find a way to awkwardly make friends":

Louisa didn’t say anything, which Shirley was grateful for. If anyone knew what it was like to lose someone, it was her, and Shirley secretly dreaded the possibility she would one day try and get Shirley to open up about their shared tragedy. It was about as likely as a kangaroo falling out of the sky and punching out one of them before it hopped out into oncoming traffic, but this was Slough House. The odds of one of her co-workers estranged, psychopathic family members breaking in and trying to kill them all in an effort to off a senile other member of the same family seemed equally ridiculous, until it happened. But Louisa did little more than nod her chin in the direction of Shirley when she entered the room to sit in the far corner atop a pile of stuffed-to-overflowing boxes while pretending to do work. River seemed not to notice her at all, but River didn’t seem to notice much these days. He went through the motions, much like she did, but the motions seemed to be literally it. Catherine was often in to gently berate him for not actually doing any of the assignments she doled out, and River would take it like he always did, making vague promises to do better, wouldn’t happen again, nodding like he meant it but Shirley could tell nothing was registering with him, and she suspected Catherine knew it too, because she never lost her temper when the same thing would happen the next day.

no pressure tagging for a "whenever you get around to it, should you be moved to do so": @thewildballyntynesgrow, @cartwrong @abubblingcandle @itsjustdg @abubblingcandle ....I don't know who is currently writing, so know this tag includes you if you want to share your work.

[cartwrong]

Seven Sentences Sunday

From Quick Repairs to Cope

The months that followed had been relatively uneventful at Slough House. Things were progressing normally and that meant mind numbing drudgery and babysitting Lamb and a group of bored agents. She didn’t miss all the drama. All of the others trapped at Slough House apart from her and Lamb seemed to miss the high octane life and were constantly looking for something to stick their noses into. Catherine had lived through that and was more than happy to be on the other side of it now. River’s foray into being a rogue spy was enough for her for a very long time. Too bad River was incapable of staying out of trouble.

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I'm scared to death if I let you in that you'll see I'm just a fake

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it is my aromantic right to loudly and obnoxiously write one thousand love stories that are deep and complex and intimate and wrenching and life changing and not at all even a little bit romantic.

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the point of fanfiction is that you can write whatever the fuck you want forever and no one can stop you. #thepower

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surely that italicized word will be the one that turns my fic into a masterpiece

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WIP Word Game

Tagged by the incredible @jamiesfootball to post a snippet from a WIP that contains each of these words:

bruise, bask, burn, beat, back - Bonus word: butter

Back - Dead Weight Ch1

Every muscle in Louisa’s body is screaming at her to go back and save Sean. The bullets continued to come but each pause felt like Sean had breathed his last and the soldiers would be upon them in an instant. She should go back. But she couldn’t because then that would be condemning River. But River might not even survive at all. But Sean might not even survive if she did go back for him. Louisa cursed under her breath and kept moving when the gunfire started up again. She needed to keep moving to try and save herself and River; that was the goal, nothing could distract her from that. It was slow and unsteady and every nerve in Louisa’s body was alert with the need to run as fast as she could but then she couldn’t, not without leaving River behind. That was the only non-negotiable. Why was it her who was having to make these decisions? Why was it up to Louisa Guy who lived and died in this god forsaken bunker? They probably all would. Louisa kept moving. It was the only thing she could do.

Bruise - Quick Repairs to Cope

Darius slowly peeled off River’s t-shirt. It was stuck to him with the heaps of sweat that came from the slowly radiating heat coming off River’s body. How had he been fine and then this? The most logical explanation was that he wasn’t actually fine and he had been hiding how ill he was feeling from Catherine. That was a stab in her heart worse than the one when he initially collapsed. The shirt was tossed aside and Catherine physically recoiled. There was no part of River’s torso that wasn’t a bruise. It was a cacophony of colours and none of them were the colours that should be there. Darius lifted River’s shoulder and his back was the same Picasso painting. “A case?” Darius frowned as he slowly lowered River back onto the bed. “I can’t tell you,” Catherine muttered but all of her attention was on not throwing up. How was River even walking let alone the running he had been doing trying to evade the dogs? “Or what you’ll have to kill me?” he chuckled but the joviality was extinguished when Catherine simply stared at him. “I think it’s likely an infection that is heading towards sepsis which is bad but good that you called me as soon as the symptoms escalated,” Darius explained.

Bask - Fight the Shadow (will you be my light)

“The corruption lies under your skin brother,” Caldere comments, reentering the room what felt like second after he had left. Time had ceased to have any real meaning in this room. Abramm had stopped arguing when they called him brother; initially the certainty that Brother Eldrin was dead and was not going to be making a reappearance was comforting to Abramm and frustrating to the Mataians. Now it just washed over them and was a waste of Abramm’s much needed energy. Each attempt they made to break him was leaving cracks and Abramm’s energy was seeping out of those cracks. He didn’t know what would happen when that depth of Kalladorne will ran dry; he hoped that he would die. He would be able to join Eidon and Shettai and all the people he had lost in eternity and bask in the radiance that he had given everything for. But what if he didn’t, what if Abramm had failed in the mission that Eidon had given him and he had betrayed all that Tersius had done for him. Now that his eyes had been opened and he knew what he could have, Abramm wanted it desperately. It would destroy him if all he had sacrificed wasn’t enough. He had taken the shield. He had helped deliver the Dorsaddi. He had slayed the Kraggin. He had returned home and won the crown. He had been fair and lenient to his brother. He had earnt his reward. He couldn’t die here. He was the king. He was Eidon’s chosen. He was better than dying in some dingy dungeon at the hands of lunatics. Just lying there he was weak, he should be fighting not just surviving; this was pathetic, he was a Kalladorne. But that was the shadow talking wasn’t it.

Beat - I won't be the one to let you down anymore

“I’m broken Roy,” Jamie sobs, tears mixing with the foul bile in the bottom of the bin yet he can’t bear to lift his head up from it. “I’m broken and I can’t, I can’t keep pretending.” “Not broken,” Roy argued, slumping down to the floor next to Jamie with a horrific crack coming from his knee that nearly set Jamie off throwing up again. “Maybe a little dented but not broken. We can beat this.” Jamie shook his head and clenched his jaw tight in a vain attempt to hold in the sobs. All it did was turn the sob into a whimper and make more bile rise in Jamie’s stomach. His grip on the bin tightened in cruel anticipation. “We can beat this,” Roy repeated with the lack of anything more wise to add. “We …” Jamie spat, “can’t do anything.” “How’s facing this on your own been going?” Roy asks simply, one eyebrow raised. That silenced Jamie efficiently. Because Roy was right; Jamie had been facing this on his own since he was eight. All that effort, all that fight, all those horrible days had lead him to this point with his head in a bin and Roy Kent sat next to him on a dirty boot room floor.

Burn - Something Just Out of Reach Ch1

River’s veins started to burn. Now he wouldn’t say he was an expect on substances, they had not been a part of his upbringing either on the road with his mum or in Tunbridge Wells, but he was pretty sure that nothing good was supposed to make your insides feel like they were on fire. “Sharpest tool in the shed aren’t you?” Spider scoffed, leaning against the wall examining his nails dismissively. River turned to glare in his direction but even that slight movement unleashed another wave of pain through him. His body arched in the chair, only the restraints holding him up, when the fire intensified. “I think it’s finally working,” the brainless henchman laughed as River’s body twitched and shook violently, mindlessly trying to do anything to chase away the pain. But there was nothing to be done. “Secure the fucking line then,” brainless henchmen two snapped. River hadn’t even felt the IV jump and the blood oozing out of where the needle was plunged into his arm. The tape stung but that paled in comparison to the metal digging into his limbs and the waves of the drug that was trying to pull him under.

Butter(ing) - A Treatment Room Doors Moment Ch7

That was not what Roy was expecting but he should have known better to assume anything when Jamie was involved. He was unhappy at City as much as he tried not to be, surely any offer was worth humouring unless it was insulting to his talent. Jamie had shown everyone what he was capable of at Richmond, even with the disciplinary issues and Pep’s silent condemnation, Jamie should still be hearing good offers if he opened himself up to the market. It was at an odd time as a transfer wouldn’t be able to go through until January but that wasn’t unheard of. “Who’s calling?” Roy asked. “Lust Conquers All.” “Fuck no,” Roy snarled. “Roy,” Jamie sighed. “No fuck that. You are not quitting to go on some reality tv show just because you ain’t getting minutes. Fuck. That!” Roy yelled. “I’m done Roy. I can’t keep giving my everything to jump through every hoop and still languishing on the bench or waiting on campus to get the call that I’m travelling and finding out that I’ve narrowly missed out. At least if I do this people will fucking watch,” Jamie yelled back. “You are a footballer not some damn reality peacock,” Roy growled. “Barely a footballer,” Jamie muttered spitefully. “No, I hated you so much when you were at Richmond …” “Thanks for reminding me.” “… because you were so much better than that club. So much better than me. This is basically quitting Jamie and I will not allow that. You sign this contract I will drive to Manchester and rip it up before personally driving you to training tomorrow.” “You don’t need to keep buttering me up. I don’t want to quit football,” Jamie countered meekly in the face of Roy’s anger. “Then don’t.”

No pressure tagging @nativestarwrites @disappearinginq and @tenderhooked

Your words are: middle, keep, door, light