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Weekend Challenge: SVU Edition!

Hi, everyone, and welcome to the Weekend Challenge!

With most of fall TV starting back up on Monday (who else is super excited and watches too much TV???), I decided to do this Weekend Challenge in honor of one of my favorite shows and also the longest-running show currently on TV — Law & Order SVU, now entering Season 20!

I have a list of every single SVU episode title. There are 434 of them. So give me some numbers, between 1 and 434, and I will give you some episode titles.

Fun fact, and also to help you out: The first 272 episode titles are all one word. Most of the rest of them are two words, with some one-word and three-word ones mixed in during the last few seasons.

For anyone who writes 200 words or creates a graphic inspired by any of their prompts by 11:59pm Pacific time on Thursday (September 27), I will reward you with your own drabble or graphic in return or words in your honor in one of my many, many WIPs.

So let's make some words this weekend! Who's in?

Comments

flipflop_diva
Sep. 22nd, 2018 04:00 am (UTC)
Masochism makes good writers. Or something like that xD

10- "Closure (Part I)"
15- "Entitled"
222- "Crush"

Good luck!!
agdhani
Sep. 26th, 2018 04:59 pm (UTC)
I've killed several prompts today...but for the life of me I can't figure out how to make the whole thing visible (my stuff is always too long for these reply boxes!) I'd put it in my journal, but since it doesn't have a public option, no one could get to it...

Anyhow, I played with the all three as part of the day's effort.

A little Daredevil in my RP world...no warnings or spoilers necessary.

But here's the clip:

Matthew couldn’t see the driver. He had not been in Tigh Ard the day the man had come to town, had never met him…so why did he recognize his voice? Why did he feel…comfortable? Familiar? Safe? Why did something about him smell vaguely reminiscent of HER?

“Thank you,” said the stranger, ignoring the skittishness of the four crushed into the backseat of his Silver-Arrow, barely fitting but not at all squeamish about the shared physicality of the intimate space.

Grunting, trusting his sense of this man based on nothing more than his voice, his smell, his aura, even though some small part of him wondered if he should, he said, “Take them straight home. If you don’t…”

“Of course.”

His smile was faint, and though Matthew could not see it, he could feel it. Feel it’s warmth like the most radiant star on a clear, cloudless night. The sensation threw him off balance and made him feel something he had barely felt in days.

Hope.

“You are entitled to closure,” the driver said gently, ‘but remember…nothing is over until it is over. The fight is not yours alone. She will come back; you will see her again.”

Then the car eased away from the curb, an expensive car, something old and yet pristine and coddled, leaving Matthew alone.

Something about the stranger filled him to bursting with the sudden need to weep.

Rather than give in to that weakness, however, despite the way it dragged at him like an anchor mired in quicksand as he faced the direction from which the girls had come, he gave in to the still underlying need to hit someone.

There was still a bartender to seek out.

Doing so was a much better use of his time then purging his straining soul would ever be.

It had to be. It was the only life Murdock knew.

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