If it comes back, it's yours
I'm writing a fic (I am writing many fics) and it is starting to come together! So I'm going to ruin that by talking about it.
It's a five things fic: "Five Times Elliot Stabler Lent a Hand" (because "Five Times Elliot Stabler Gave Olivia Benson a Totally Platonic Handjob" would be gauche). The last couple of days, I've been thinking about making it a 5+1, but the +1 ("(And One Time He Gave Her the D)") doesn't work unless I stick both their names in the main title ("Five Times Elliot Stabler Lent Olivia Benson a Hand") and that's just too much. No, I don't like it without his last name and no, I am not interested in workshopping it further.
Anyway, I started this fucker on October 25. It started with: The call pulls Liv away from the good part of a date; Elliot would know that even if she hadn't huffed at him, blowing her bangs off her forehead, when he'd asked, "Bad time?" He gets paid to notice things, and it's hard not to notice her dark lipstick is gone.
She changes at the precinct, fidgets nonstop with the clingy white top that doesn't hide her lace bra. Fidgets next to him in the car, too.
He curls his fingers around the top of the steering wheel. "If you have to pee--"
"I'm fine."
"--we can stop at the--"
"Jesus, El, I said I'm fine."
Horny Liv's got a short fuse, and there's a reason he's not with FDNY. He's never held a lighter he didn't instinctively flick.
-
They trudge back into the precinct, snow and slush on their shoes. "We got a couple hours til that place opens," Elliot says, with all the forced offhandedness of someone who's been snapped at too many times. "Should grab some rack time."
He figures it's more polite than telling her to go stick her hand down her pants, rub one out for everyone's sake.
"What about you?"
He shrugs. "I caught some Z's at home."
And then it sat there until November 12, at which point I deleted everything and started fresh.
With the fourth, not first, of the five times.
Wild.
But it's working. "How did they get here?" has been driving the rest of the fic. I had the general concepts for the remaining scenes worked out, although not quite how they brought us to #4.
But two nights ago, you know what happened? III.
The third time, work pulls her away from a date.
Yeah, the original idea came back around. (Different POV, different events, but same winter, same characterization.) I hadn't been expecting that (but I'm glad it usurped my new idea for #2, which was about to be forced into the #3 slot where it didn't quite fit). Nor had I been expecting it to provide a fix some issues I was having with time #1, but it did.
I have also realized that as much as I wanted to write a PWP, this isn't it. Is there graphic sex? Yeah, but it's not there to be hot. It's there, like Elliot, to get the job done.
And that's making this a lot easier to write. Dreamwidth: Comment | Read Comments
It's a five things fic: "Five Times Elliot Stabler Lent a Hand" (because "Five Times Elliot Stabler Gave Olivia Benson a Totally Platonic Handjob" would be gauche). The last couple of days, I've been thinking about making it a 5+1, but the +1 ("(And One Time He Gave Her the D)") doesn't work unless I stick both their names in the main title ("Five Times Elliot Stabler Lent Olivia Benson a Hand") and that's just too much. No, I don't like it without his last name and no, I am not interested in workshopping it further.
Anyway, I started this fucker on October 25. It started with: The call pulls Liv away from the good part of a date; Elliot would know that even if she hadn't huffed at him, blowing her bangs off her forehead, when he'd asked, "Bad time?" He gets paid to notice things, and it's hard not to notice her dark lipstick is gone.
She changes at the precinct, fidgets nonstop with the clingy white top that doesn't hide her lace bra. Fidgets next to him in the car, too.
He curls his fingers around the top of the steering wheel. "If you have to pee--"
"I'm fine."
"--we can stop at the--"
"Jesus, El, I said I'm fine."
Horny Liv's got a short fuse, and there's a reason he's not with FDNY. He's never held a lighter he didn't instinctively flick.
-
They trudge back into the precinct, snow and slush on their shoes. "We got a couple hours til that place opens," Elliot says, with all the forced offhandedness of someone who's been snapped at too many times. "Should grab some rack time."
He figures it's more polite than telling her to go stick her hand down her pants, rub one out for everyone's sake.
"What about you?"
He shrugs. "I caught some Z's at home."
And then it sat there until November 12, at which point I deleted everything and started fresh.
With the fourth, not first, of the five times.
Wild.
But it's working. "How did they get here?" has been driving the rest of the fic. I had the general concepts for the remaining scenes worked out, although not quite how they brought us to #4.
But two nights ago, you know what happened? III.
The third time, work pulls her away from a date.
Yeah, the original idea came back around. (Different POV, different events, but same winter, same characterization.) I hadn't been expecting that (but I'm glad it usurped my new idea for #2, which was about to be forced into the #3 slot where it didn't quite fit). Nor had I been expecting it to provide a fix some issues I was having with time #1, but it did.
I have also realized that as much as I wanted to write a PWP, this isn't it. Is there graphic sex? Yeah, but it's not there to be hot. It's there, like Elliot, to get the job done.
And that's making this a lot easier to write. Dreamwidth: Comment | Read Comments