#I. WRITING ; ALEXANDRA CABOT

[wild-fleurs]

Lately I sometimes think about how Calex could happen if Alex still ended up in Witness Protection but Casey didn’t move to SVU (this is ignoring/au of my totally canon theory that Alex & Casey knew each other before she went away & were at least friends if not dating)

I don’t remember if this was canon or just my brain randomly filling in gaps or misremembering but wasn’t “Emily” an insurance agent or something like that? I know nothing about that kind of work entails day to day but also no real knowledge but a vague feeling I learned somewhere that mafia/money laundering types used to use small companies like that to clean dodgy money or do those fake injury cons? Or ensure stuff then oops it burnt down or got stolen collect payout type of schemes?

So “Emily” could have definitely stumbled into evidence of a white collar crime (to be honest again I don’t know much about what either except thinking of it as crimes to do with money) & in reporting it somehow end up getting to know Casey that way (I get that different states makes that less likely but shhhhhhh just go with it, that’s the least of our worries… or quick work around the company is considered a New York company so Casey has the case “Emily” is just in the Wisconsin office)

So Casey & “Emily” obviously fall in love (Calex are inevitable & perfect for each other) over building the case so mainly phone calls & emails & occasional weekends away whatever is halfway from Wisconsins & New York lol (because adorableness & hotness!)

I feel like Casey would think “Emily”/Alex was hiding something or knows stuff she’s not telling her (Alex’s lawyers smarts & debating & reasoning would definitely come out to play with Casey haha) but decides it falls under the whole if I don’t know I’m not obligated to officially acknowledge it type of lawyer logic

So if anybody else wants to come live in this bizarre scenario I heavily (desperately) encourage it & if anybody also wants to write it PLEASE DO & send me a link

Imagine Casey one day transfers to SVU or just sees a photo of “Emily” but it’s Alex Cabot… oooooo drama

[maximoffcarter]

Okay so…I’ve decided to give it a try and I’ll open my requests for Casey and Alex🫡 We’ll see how this goes and we’ll see if I get to write more about them cause it’s honestly nice to do so🫢

Part 2 of ‘One step forward’ might come tonight or tomorrow.

[cybernecromancer365]

The Way Things Are--Final Chapter

The last chapter is here: Ao3

Summary: A strange message from Amaro sends Alex rushing to the precinct. She turned her back on Liv before, but she won't do that again. They need each other but Olivia is keeping her at a distance. Can she get Olivia to trust her again?  

Chapter word count: 2,351

Rating: T

[aubvrns]

would you be up to write for alex based on your fav songs maybee

Gold Rush — T.S

| SVU & Stories

Sypnosis — The struggle of loving Alexandra Cabot from afar, who everyone wonders what must it be like to love her.

Note — Fluff, Light Angst, Admiring from Afar, Alex being a tease but oblivious, and avoidant Reader.

(Female lawyer centered, pronouns used!)

———————————————————————

!!

Gleaming, twinkling Eyes like sinking ships on waters So inviting, I almost jump in

“Y/N? Come down here, captain’s requesting your presence for the debriefing.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in 10.” You said, tying your hair up in a ponytail before dropping the call.

You grabbed your briefcase and complied all the documents needed for the case you were working on, organizing them by size.

John usually called you whenever you were needed in the precinct right after your arraignment, but you managed to arrange your time just in case. It took you exactly ten minutes to get there by taxi, thankful for the considerate couple who let you ride before them.

Upon your entrance, you paused mid-step, a frown forming as you spotted Alex seated across from Olivia and Elliot. Your eyes swept the room, taking in the scene. "Who died?"

"Y/N, sit, no one died." Olivia chuckled, gesturing towards the empty chair beside Alex.

You sat beside the blonde and slightly moving the chair at a distance, putting your briefcase beside the chair. You can feel Alex’s gaze on you and you could only clear your throat.

"Atleast not yet." Elliot placed a file on the table and you both leaned forward to read it, although you didn’t get much far. You felt as if your heart was beating out of your chest when you saw what it was about, looking at Olivia and all she could do was shrug.

"You want us to work together?" Alex questioned, her tone derisively condescending.

Elliot crossed his arms, "For this case, yes. We’ve got serial killing syndicates across Manhattan to Harlem, and we’ve processed none."

"Okay, but why me? You’ve got Casey." You asked before turning to Alex. "Not that I have anything against you, it’s just that—"

Oh my god, her blue eyes are so pretty.

Alex pursed her lips as she stared at you, "So you basically hate me? Okay, that’s alright."

You rolled your eyes, instinctively looking away before she could see your rose tinted cheeks.

"Casey’s on a well-deserved vacation. She isn’t coming back in a week, give the poor woman a break."

The brunette uttered, "Besides, you guys are best suited for this case. Together."

You sigh, fixating on your watch before Elliot touched your shoulder to get your attention. "Y/N, c’mon."

"When do we start anyway? So far, your evidence is still circumstantial." Alex asked, crossing her arms.

"Fin and Munch called from Bellevue. Estelle Bauldelaire was overdosed with Hallucinogens. Guess who was indicted for running an underground drug cartel?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, reading the file once again when he added,

"Her con girlfriend."

—

I don’t like a gold rush, gold rush I don’t like anticipating my face in a red flush I don’t like how anyone would die to feel your touch

Alex groaned at the columns that was messily distributed on the carpet. Her hands folding the papers, clearly frustrated. "This is sickening."

You sat on the floor with her, leaning back to the edge of the couch before helping her categorize the files.

"Don’t be so dramatic, Cabot. We haven’t even started yet."

She dragged an exasperated exhale and composing herself together. This wasn’t the first time you both worked on a case. The last case you’ve worked on together was successful at most, winning effortlessly.

Unfortunately, the only disadvantage was that you have had a something for her in forever.

A feeling in your chest that you couldn’t shake off everytime she was ever near you. How your cheeks heated up when she gives you the minimum of attention.

It was ridiculous. The way you couldn’t make eye contact when she was talking to you. You honestly felt like a teenager obsessing for sweaty basketball players during Field Day, that was exactly how it was with Alex.

"How can we work on our arguments when we don’t even have an indictment yet?" The blonde reasoned as she sipped from her coffee mug.

You played with the brim of the paper, "Well, Estelle is bound to go to trial. All we can do is sit here and wait."

A moment passed and the silence was deafening. You two were skimming throughout the textbooks following the Bauldelaire case, writing on colored sticky notes.

Then, a knock came onto the door, disrupting the adequate peace.

"Lex?" An unfamiliar man seeps in the door. Alex smiled and stood up, walking over to him.

With her hand on the side of the door, they talked together remotely which leaves you with your lonely, forlorn self. You wondered what on earth could be so funny that you heard Alex laugh, the soft sound warming your heart.

Alex welcomed him to her office, introducing him to you. "Y/N, this is Dr. Huang. If you don’t mind, he’ll stay here for awhile."

The doctor waved his hand to you, offering a warm smile before reaching to shake your hand.

You accepted, shaking your head in response, "No worries, I was about to leave anyway." Your nails dig against your palm, fixated on the documents you reviewed before uncluttering the mess.

Really, when you said we haven’t even started? Alex thought and watching you clean after yourself. She didn’t want you to go so soon, but assumed it was because of the unfamiliarity.

You wish you hadn’t made such a disorganized space. It was awkward to crawl on the floor as the two chat in front of you. You saw how he fixed her hair, tucking it behind her ears, making you want to crawl out of your skin.

Fortunately, you finished putting all the documents and notes inside your briefcase. With a simple glance, you take in Alex once again. Looking at her smile as she talked to the doctor made you wish it was you she was talking to.

Bidding goodbye, you exit the office with a heavy exhale, alongside a heavy heart.

—

Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush I don’t like slow motion, double vision in a rose blush

A few days later, you had finished practicing, done reviewing, and gone to the precinct.

You stopped at a local bistro to order coffee, from a very pleading request by the captain. They forgot to restock their needs, and luckily, you were patient enough to buy some.

You got out of your car, firmly holding the cups as you press the buttons on the elevator.

When you arrived to the floor, you were swarmed by alot of civilians. They kept yelling, being strided away by the detectives.

Because of the cramped area, you were pushed by the people backwards causing you to spill a cup of coffee to a woman’s shirt.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" The lady barked, causing you to flinch slightly at the volume of her voice.

"I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

The next thing you know, a hot, searing pain came running down your shirt. You wince in affliction, dropping the rest of the cups on a table before escorting yourself out of the room. You were truly sorry, but you couldn’t handle the embarassment of it all.

Thankfully, the bathroom was empty.

You locked the door, taking your blazer off. Luckily, you have always brought an extra shirt in your briefcase.

But your smile quickly falters when you realize you left it in your car.

Closing your eyes, you accepted defeat. You should have been more careful, and if you were, you wouldn’t have been drenched in coffee.

A knock came to the door caught your attention. You hands frantically put on your blazer, "Wait a second!" You exclaimed, unable to hook the buttons properly.

"It’s Alex. You okay in there?"

You slowly opened the door, revealing the concerned woman. You bite your lip in unease and let her inside the comfort room.

"Can you give these to the woman and tell her I feel sorry? It should be enough to dry her shirt."

You handed her a packet of wipes. But instead of accepting it, she took a wipe and rubbed it on your what-was-once pristine shirt.

"You shouldn’t feel sorry, Y/L/N. What she said and did was so out of line. It was just an accident."

You slightly panic, feeling her wipe your skin. Out of the awkwardness, you gently take the wipe from her, "Thank you. I really think I should get home, though,"

She gave you this sorry look, taking your hand in hers before opening her mouth to speak. "I’ll tell the others you had an emergency. But why did you buy coffee?"

"Captain called me asking if I had time to stop by. Why?"

"I already bought the squad coffee with Huang. Olivia asked us before we left my office."

Oh.

You’ve been waiting for twenty minutes for their order, swarmed by half the population, and drenched in caffeine. In conlusion, you went through the depths of hell.

You let out a breathy exhale, exhausted and uncomfortable. Your eyes stared to prickle, and you knew you had to leave.

"I have to go."

As you walked out of the bathroom, the feeling of your hands leave hers. Alex called out, "Y/N, wait—"

Alex followed after you, only to be called out by Dr. Huang. She stops, her eyes drop apologetically and watching you walk away.

She saw your eyes glance back at her, with George beside her. Your tired eyes, closing with the doors of the elevator.

She didn’t want you to go.

If only you knew.

—

But I don’t like a gold rush What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes My mind turns your life into folklore

The evening passed fairly quickly, a storm brewing in the sky. You had took a long shower, yet the sting left a bruise. You applied ointment on your chest, squirming at the desolation. You were unsure if it was just the sting that hurt you, or the fact that you were jealous.

You had no right to, anyway. It’s just that you and Alex once picked up coffee for the squad, and hearing her do the same with someone else hurt your feelings. But you weren’t special. You were just a colleague.

Her warmth remained like the sun. So tender, yet so far. You could only watch as she shines her light for others, dreaming you were her favorite flower.

When you came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around you, the doorbell rang.

It was late in the evening, who could be outside your apartment this behind?

You walked down the stairs, the towel secured around your body. You look out the window, and you saw a familiar blonde.

You open the door, close to ajar. "What are you doing here? It’s raining, Alex." You opened the door, a gesture for her to come in.

She was damp, assuming she ran from her car to your doorstep. You rushed to give her fresh towel, placing it over her shoulders.

"We aren’t dating."

"What?"

"We aren’t dating."

You narrow your eyes in confusion, "What do you mean, Alex?" You close the door before the rain seeps into your apartment.

"Me and Huang, We aren’t—"

She was crying.

You stood there, unsure what to do. You have never saw Alex cry, let alone infront of you. You quiver in silence, letting her proceed.

"We aren’t dating, okay? So stop running away from me like you hate me!" She blurted, her composed mask slipped away.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What do you mean I hate you? I don’t hate you, Alex!"

Even if I tried to.

She wiped her eyes, breathing uneven, "Then why do you keep avoiding me? Why do you keep bolting away when I’m trying to be there for you?"

"It’s because I like you, okay!"

Alex stared at you in shock, her attention was drawn to your nails digging your palm. A habit you did when you were tense. She noticed. She always had.

"I liked you from the moment I met you, and the feeling never went away. I tried to convince myself that I didn’t, but I couldn’t. How could I possibly do when simply seeing you makes my heart beat out of my chest? It’s—," You breathe, your heartbeat quickened as she looked at you.

"It’s ridiculous, and I avoid you because of it. I know you don’t feel the same way, Alex. But I told you because I don’t hate you. I really don’t—"

Alex cut you off with a soft kiss and Oh, Her lips are so soft- She brought her hand to cup your cheek as your hands went up over her neck.

You traced her jawline with your thumb as you kissed while her other hand was at your waist delicately digging your fingers into your towel, holding your body close.

You pulled away, breathing heavily.

She stared at you, her hands remained on your waist. In her eyes, with ever so adoration, looked into yours.

"How do you know I don’t feel the same way? Are you psychic? Because I do, from the moment I met you."

Quoting your words, you were lost for any. You expected her to let you go, but her arms stayed where as they were.

"I won’t let you run away again, ever." Her head found its way to the crook of your neck, feeling her inhale your scent.

"But what about Dr. Huang? Doesn't he like you?" You softly said. Remaining still as you savor the moment between you and the blonde, she pressed a kiss to your shoulder blades.

"God, I forgot your gaydar was so bad."

!!

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Mommy... Master List

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Taking Care of My Girl ~Dom!Rafael Barba xFem Sub!Girlfriend!Reader

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~~~

That’s all for now, ciao ciao lovelies! 💞💞

[lizdonnelly]

Second Circle, Ch. 1

Pairing: Elizabeth Donnelly x f!reader, shades of Alex Cabot x Olivia Benson Warnings: Smut, violence, references to alcoholism Summary: “We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.” Based on a request for Liz/f!reader's first time, and my own desire to write a series about Liz navigating romance amidst chaos. Loosely inspired by the events of 2x21 'Scourge' and a few details from 10x8 'Persona'.

---

Although the wind rattled against the windows of the banquet hall and the pinprick lighting of the chandeliers overhead flickered, the murmur of the gala continued on.

The air vibrated, alive with the weight of the tension that had wracked the city in the past few weeks and no doubt fueled by the media machine cranking out headline after headline, each more sordid and gruesome than the last.

Melinda's grip tightened on your elbow as another group approached. Your heart quickened at the sight of short, gelled back blonde hair and the heady perfume that wafted over. Anxiety tore at your stomach with molten claws.

"Doc Warner, glad to see you've made it," a bloodhound of a man said, leading the pack. He gestured towards you with his whiskey glass. "Elliot and Olivia give you enough time to make friends outside the morgue? I must not be pushing them hard enough."

Melinda patted your back. Heavily lined brown eyes scoured you from behind the bloodhound, appraising the manner in which Melinda had touched you. A cold bead of sweat slid down the back of your neck.

"Always glad to see you on the right side of the concrete, Captain," The medical examiner teased. "Especially these days. But yes, believe it or not, I do have time to run in other circles." A man with a voice as calm as the creek that ran beside your childhood home piped up. "Pleased to finally get the chance to meet you," he said with an easy smile and a tip of the head. This man carried himself with a centeredness that was hard to come by, even across the crowd of New York City's top professionals that had congregated that evening. "I've heard about your efforts at Mercy General. I can't imagine what you've had to deal with as of late." It was a line you'd heard plenty of variations of recently, but his sincerity seemed completely genuine. Although his eyes were warm, inviting pools of black ink, you couldn't shake the feeling that somehow he knew. Melinda turned to you with a smile, oblivious. "As you can probably tell, Dr. Huang is our resident psychiatrist," she said. "And a fed, at that," came that harsh, staccato voice you had become attuned to. You bit at the inside of your cheek. The psychiatrist-fed's gentle smirk grew. Thankfully, a pasty, bird boned blonde intruded, reaching out past Huang. "Alexandra Cabot, assistant district attorney," she said, wasting no time.

You shook her hand, surprised at the strength of her grip. Studying her gaze, you got the sense that events like this were easier for her to navigate than they were for other members of the party. She sipped at her champagne lightly and looked around, her stare lingering on the elevators as if she either wanted to leave or wished for someone else to arrive.

"Can't forget her royal highness," the bloodhound Captain joked, gesturing to the woman you'd been struggling not to address.

Dr. Huang spoke again in earthen tones and an air of alacrity. "There's no need to bother, Melinda. The only reason the Bureau Chief wouldn't have led the introductions," he paused, "is if this isn't a stranger to her." Liz rolled her eyes. You subconsciously tugged at the sleeve of the sweater that hung a little past your fingertips. "If you're so perceptive, Agent, then why did a sixth girl show up gutted like a fish at Grand Central this morning?"

---

Liz Donnelly hated courtroom restrooms. She had since the 70's, in fact.

On this occasion, though, she tolerated the lavender soap and the lukewarm water as she used the mirror to study the other woman.

The younger woman next to her scrubbed underneath her nails with a precision so adroit it had to be practiced. "If you're trying to scrub away evidence," the Bureau Chief piped up, "do me a favor and be less obvious." The woman's eyes widened, eyebrows rising. Liz leaned over and tugged playfully at the name tag dangling from the pocket on the woman's scrubs. The woman paused. "If you're trying to flirt with me," she finally whispered, "do me a favor and be more obvious."

The bathroom door swung on its hinges and in strode Olivia Benson, the SVU detective clearly in a tizzy and blind to the way the Bureau Chief and her conversation partner jumped apart like two opposing magnets. The strands on the back of her glossy brown pixie cut stuck up. As the detective ran a nervous hand through them again, Liz understood why.

"Got tired of listening to Cabot try to grill a child? Don't tell me she needs me back in there." Benson shook her head, slumping against the paper towel dispenser. "He got another one."

The detective muttered a quick apology, shifting aside to let the woman in scrubs dry her hands. Liz swallowed thickly.

"Sexually assaulted as well, I take it?" Benson eyed the prosecutor. The detective nodded exasperatedly. "She was an architect. Single, wasn't a user, friends are all model citizens." Benson sucked in her bottom lip and bit at it. "No vengeful ex-boyfriend, at that. Seems she had a gambling habit, but I've know plenty of girls who play the ponies, and all of them are still very much alive."

"However disparate these murders seem, there has to be a connection. Better make good use of that overtime, or you'll have more blood on your hands," Liz jabbed, gesturing towards the sink. The detective's brow furrowed.

"So this is the support we're going to get from our new Bureau Chief? How the hell are-"

Benson paused awkwardly as the woman in scrubs shuffled out the door, paying no mind to the quick finger waggling wave she threw at the prosecutor.

Liz managed a brief smile.

Benson looked towards the door, then back at the wiry woman before her in the starched black pantsuit.

Had there been a window in this particular courtroom restroom, Liz had half a mind to climb out it herself.

---

The bloodhound, whom you now knew as Cragen, thumbed the facets of his whiskey glass at the sound of the announcement.

A gentleman in a well-pressed suit and white gloves had called out across the banquet hall. The gala wouldn't be ending at its scheduled time, due to "inclement weather conditions", meaning the whole ordeal was to proceed for who knows how long. Fortunately, the waitstaff were headed back with fresh bottles and hor d'oeuvres as an apology for the inconvenience.

"I don't mean to pry, but does this have anything to do with-"

He cut you off with a somber shake of his head. He turned to face you, the capillaries webbing along the corners of his eyes swollen.

"This is news to me."

Cragen turned and headed back to the bar with a sniffle.

"They're doing a reasonable job of keeping everyone occupied, at least," came an even voice from behind you. Huang joined your side. Jet black pools still held a mirthful twinkle.

"Tell me something. How long have you and the prosecutor been involved with each other?" "This is the first time Ms. Cabot and I have met," you stammered. "You know that's not who I meant," he countered with a soothing grin. "Forgive my intrusion. You don't have to answer, if you don't want to."

The psychiatrist's musings were an unexpected relief to you. You felt the dam within your chest begin to burst, allowing you to finally speak on something you had kept locked up to yourself these past few weeks. "I'll forgive you, but only if you tell me how you knew," you laughed, tension evaporating from the edge of your voice. Huang nodded to himself.

"That's not your sweater."

You lowered your glass. "It's too long in the arms," he said, gesturing freely. Huang was one of the few who had not been drinking.

"It's not like I have much time to see a tailor," you tried to riposte. "True, but the odds that you and Donnelly wear the same perfume are not favorable," he said with an air of one revealing a royal flush. "My guess is that either she gave the sweater to you, or you're wearing it out of convenience. Alternatively, she could've asked you to wear it, knowing you'd cross paths tonight. She appears to be rather domineering, so that would not surprise me if it were the case."

It took everything in you to fight back the heat that rose in your cheeks at the bounce of his eyebrow.

"You make a hobby out of judging women's perfume?"

"I was a profiler in another life. It was more than a hobby to judge everything about a person." Huang's gaze followed Cragen as he made his way through the crowd across the room.

"Makes for a good party trick, I'll give you that."

Huang paused before turning back to you. His expression held an odd seriousness to it now. "I get the sense that I'm not the only one playing party tricks tonight."

---

Alex Cabot hadn't known Elizabeth for long, but she already didn't care to know the woman much longer.

The younger prosecutor checked her Cartier watch once more, eager for any distraction at this point. Somehow, neither clock hand had so much as budged. She squeezed her eyes shut amidst the bubbling conversation of the crowd in the godforsaken hall and thought of wide, chocolate brown puppy dog eyes and pixie cuts, of handcuffs and coffee cups.

"Alexandra, that look is not becoming on someone like you," an airy tone wafted over.

Lena Petrovsky, New York Supreme Court judge. Fuck. At this rate, she half expected Barry Moredock to round the corner and lecture her about some constitutional disservice she also happened to be encouraging this evening.

"Running all-nighters with the SVU shouldn't be taxing on someone from Harvard Law. But really, you look like hell, try to get some rest after this circus," Petrovsky said, gesturing around them. "You won't be of any use to the city if you keep burning the candle at both ends."

Alex opened her mouth to speak, but a harsh voice speared through her.

"From what I've seen so far, Ms. Cabot is no stranger to circuses," Donnelly jeered.

Alex was certain some snide joke about her courtroom performances was incoming, but she paused, shrieks cutting through the crowd behind them.

---

"This just in: at approximately 11:07 tonight, NYPD discovered the body of a young woman in Central Park. The cause of death? A large wound along the victim's neck, a similar M.O. to the recent string homicides that have shocked the city this past month. Although signs of sexual assault were present, no information is available yet as to the identity of the perpetrator. Investigators have identified the victim as local self-portraitist..."

Liz looped her arm around your shoulders, tugging you out of the bar and onto the street.

"I am not ruining one of the rare nights we both have to ourselves with more of that fear-mongering," she said. You shifted under the weight of the fur coat she shared with you, pressing yourself against her side. Although her voice was firm, you could tell she was rattled. She led you past throngs of men and women in pressed shirts and cocktail dresses, club promoters, and a man stumbling toward you with a box of pamphlets.

"They didn't call me in," you mused. Your brows knitted in confusion. Liz grabbed hold of your chin.

"And they won't," she seemed to command into reality through sheer force of will alone. She brushed her thumb across your lips. Rain gently began to fall overhead. The lights of the cabs clogging the street blurred.

You leaned forward, slipped her thumb into your mouth, and lightly sucked on it.

The prosecutor smirked. You were pleased with the fact that she appeared slightly taken aback by your boldness.

"Come on," she said with a gaze that told you she was a thousand miles away already.

You felt her breath hot against your ear as she tugged you into the back seat of a nearby town car.

"I have something else for you to suck on."

---

"Top her off," Cragen said to the bartender, tilting his glass across the counter.

Across the room, the band still played. The peeling notes of the saxophone reverberated across the inside of his skull. A dull throb continued to pound at the back of his eyes.

Looking down into the amber liquid, Cragen studied the panes of glass that stretched across the ceiling. More rain, more wind.

He couldn't kill in this.

Cragen took a swig.

Elliot and Olivia were still at the station, sifting through tips and folders full of supposed eyewitness accounts. Munch was no doubt trying his best to hold down the fort, but even his endurance, battle-tested over years in Baltimore homicide, was waning.

The brass thought maintaining appearances would comfort the public, although the Captain wondered how all of this pomp and circumstance could reassure anyone but those New York elites with the most fragile of egos.

He took another sip, turning back to watch ADA Cabot and Dr. Huang engaged in what appeared to be a heated argument. At least, heated on the blonde's end. Nearby, Doc Warner was caught in Judge Petrovsky's line of fire. He chuckled into his glass, thankful not to be in the good doctor's shoes.

Further off, Donnelly and the woman Melinda had introduced the group to were headed towards the restrooms. Cragen squinted. The Bureau Chief, with all five foot something's worth of bluster, was leading the other woman hand in hand. Something Arthur Branch had told him once made him chuckle.

Cragen went to take the final swig of his whiskey to finish off the glass, but noticed it was still full.

---

You stumbled through the doorway of Liz's brownstone, her hands quick to pull down your skirt. The door slammed shut. Her mouth pressed hot kisses up the side of your throat. Deceptively strong hands gripped at your ass.

"Upstairs," she husked.

Something fluttered in your stomach. Although you had gotten used to the feeling of the prosecutor's clever tongue in your mouth after a couple coffee dates, the two of you had yet to cross the threshold, so to speak.

Her hands guided you around the corner and up the flight of stairs, toying at the back of your bra. The sensation of her fingers trailing down your spine broke your brain. There could be no anxieties at this point, no thoughts for that matter, only Elizabeth Donnelly and her teeth at your throat and her pillows now pressed up against the back of your head.

The prosecutor leaned over you, nudging your legs aside. She began to drag her knuckle up and down the rapidly dampening fabric that clung to your slit. Heavily lidded brown eyes met yours.

"God Liz, I need you...I need it..."

You were embarrassed at the whine, embarrassed with how wet you already were for the woman.

"Need what?" her voice came coolly. She paused her ministrations to press a finger up against your hole. "This?"

You squeezed your eyes shut. "Please..."

Liz chuckled and hiked up the sleeve of her blazer.

"Since you beg so pretty," she said, "I guess I'll have to oblige."

You felt her tug your panties to the side, the sensation of her pressing a few quick kisses all across your mound and lips sending your heart into a spiral. Shortly afterwards, she helped you kick out of them, and her hands slid up to caress the insides of your thighs. Liz dragged her tongue up through your folds, praising how good you tasted. You moaned unabashedly now, desperation rising to a fever pitch.

"So impatient," she teased from between your legs as she lapped at you. You fought back another whine, the cry dying in your throat as you felt her climb up the bed and tug your body against her. She snaked a hand between your legs and slid a finger into you.

"Fuck, you're tight," her voice strained against a few strands of hair matted against your ear.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to reply. "Speak up, sweetheart," she cooed, easing another finger into you.

"I want you to stretch me," you panted, clinging to lucidity.

She bit at your earlobe with a growl, a third finger slipping inside you now. Your head spun at as you felt yourself adjust to take even more of her. The air was now thick with the wet, wanton sounds of her pumping inside you. With each thrust, she stroked at a spot inside you that brought you closer and closer to your peak.

"I-I can't last much longer," you sputtered. You pressed back against her, hips rocking up into her palm. She sucked at a patch of skin underneath your jaw.

"Then cum for me," Liz said, beginning to stroke her thumb along your clit. She curled her fingers inside you and allowed you to roll your thighs against her hand.

The tension gripping your body snapped, your mind careening into the darkness as waves of pleasure rushed over you. Liz kept up her pace, pressing light kisses across your face. She talked you through your orgasm in crisp, honeyed tones in a manner you'd spend the next few days dwelling over.

When your heart finally calmed, she withdrew her hand, savoring the taste of you as she rose up off the bed. You watched her with a confused look, eyes straining against the shadows that cloaked the bedroom.

Her hand threaded into your hair, cupping the back of your scalp. Suddenly, she met you from the side of the bed.

You felt her pull you towards her, your face soon nuzzling up against the fabric of her slacks.

She tugged her zipper open with her free hand.

You wasted no time in starting to cover her panties in kisses, rewarded with a groan as she lolled her head back.

"That's a good girl," she said, voice straining. "Keep it up."

You reached up and tugged them down, lips wrapping around her clit. She laced both hands in your hair, pulling you closer. You leaned up, catching a glimpse of her through heavy lashes.

A thumb caressed your cheek.

"I can't wait to cum all over that pretty face."

You sucked harder.

---

Liz led you towards the restrooms, which were just outside the banquet hall in a hallway not so generously lit. The darkness served the mood well, though. Her mind wandered to thoughts of herself draped over your back, your legs parted wide enough for you to try taking her strap, her hips rutting into you with a ferocity that'd leave you with bruises she was proud to give you.

She wasn't sure if it was the booze or the fatigue calling the shots at this point, but neither prevented her from noticing your hand tugging free from her grasp.

The prosecutor turned in time to catch sight of a white glove cover your mouth.

[loverofallthingssarah]

Just a cup of coffee

Alex Cabot x reader

Based off an anonymous ask but a little different spin

Word count: 700+

A/N: just my terrible writing and mistakes as always

Everyday, like clockwork, you rounded the corner to none other than ADA Alexandra Cabot’s office with a scalding cup of coffee in one hand and an iced cap in the other. If anyone asked, it was just convenient to pick up Alex’s order it was on your way, right? Not quite. Little did anyone know what you would give to spend just one more second with the beautiful blonde who stole you heart with just one look. For God's sake, you didn’t even work for the bureau, and trust the gang at the bull pin never let you forget it.

Today was different, Olivia called you in early and your first thought was getting Alex her coffee. Today she was just going to have to get it early. You hurried to get ready and make your way to the Starbucks across the street from your apartment, and BAM… a rogue bicycled road right over your foot racing off to work. A quick ‘sorry’ was yelled over their shoulder as you yelped.

“Shit!” you yelled out in the crowded streets of New York. You limped off to a bench slinging every surge work in the book as you did.

Your cell started ringing, “Hello?” you asked.

“Where the hell are you, Y/L/N?” Liv yelled.

You explained your situation and she called over a bus to pick you up to take you in for x-rays to be on the safe side. It hadn’t even occurred to you that a certain unobtainable blonde was on the other side of the city waiting for you.

Alex sat in her office tapping her pen away at the stack of paperwork sat in front of her. Every noise she heard outside her door she looked up in disappointment when it wasn’t you. After the 20th time, she began to worry. It wasn’t like you to just not show. Even if you were in a hurry, and it was just a quick hand off. You always showed up.

“Hey, Alex. How did the arraignment go?”

Alex huffed at Liv, “Fine. Have you seen Y/N?”

She replied, “No. She’s at Mercy with a sprained ankle. I asked if she needed me to go by but she said she was fi-,” Alex didn’t even wait for her to reply as she rushed to grab her things and flew out of her office.

You were grumbling on your hospital bed angrily waiting for your release. The door to your room was pushed open and you looked up about to yell at the nurse again to release you, but the woman before you was not your nurse.

“Alex?” you asked as she rushed to your bedside and buried her face in your neck in a tight hug. “I was so worried about you, Y/N! Don’t you dare do that to me again! Do you hear me?”

“Alex, I twisted my ankle. I didn’t burst my ear drum. Please, calm down.” She rolled her eyes as she leaned up to look at you without dropping her arms from around you. “I’m serious, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you,” she looked down blushing, refusing to elaborate further.

You took your hand and lifted her chin to look at you, “Hey, I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

She nodded and smiled the most genuine smile you had ever seen. She pulled you closer and held you until a nurse finally brought in your discharge papers.

Alex reluctantly took you back to the precinct after much begging from you. She helped limp your way inside and over to the elevators.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” you said as the doors opened. Alex smiled, and as you turned to make your way onto the lift, you felt her hand pulling you back in. As you head turned back around, you felt her lips connect with yours in the most passionate yet gentle kiss you had ever received. Once air became necessary, you both broke away just staring into each other's eyes.

Alex whispered, “You can count on it.” She winked at you before walking off blissfully.

You yelled back, “Coffee, tomorrow?”

She giggled, “I’ll count on it.”

sfw taglist: @oh-mydarling @rainbow-hedgehog @peggycarter-steverogers @citizenoftheworld-stuff-blog @lanawinters-ily @lntlmate @sapphicforsarahh @strawberryshorttcakkee @dreamypqulson @goodeday2u @winters-witch-bitch

[tozierstache]

is anyone writing george huang & alexandra cabot besties fanfic or am i gonna have to open up a FUCKING google doc

[buzziightqueer]

Emily Fairbanks was in fact not Emily Fairbanks. She wasn’t from Tulsa, her true passion wasn’t working as an insurance claims adjuster, but you know what she was? Getting antsy. 

The Marshals frequently came by to calm her down, reminding her why she was here, why she needed to keep a low profile. She knew that they were right, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. She found herself going to the supermarket five or six times a week just to walk around. 

Just to smell the aromas wafting through the public– to feel the air on her skin. She missed New York. She missed the diesel fuel air, the loud honking horns, the Mister Softee truck theme song. She missed Alex Cabot. She was Alex Cabot. 

She longed to be a prosecutor again. She wanted to stand tall in a courtroom and feel ten feet tall after winning a case. She wanted to beat the defense and give a smug smirk to her SVU team before Donnelly kept her in check, making some snide yet loving remark. 

She thought about all the time she spent in her office–not wasted time, per se, but time she could've spent outside. Not literally outside–she wasn’t a nature person, but outside in the world. She couldn’t do anything with her title now. She had no connections, no friends, she even longed for one of those horrible office holiday parties. She’d always huffed at the thought, hating to schmooze with her co-workers who didn’t know the first thing about her. But now, she wished she had been more open. They didn’t know anything about her because she didn’t tell them. Now, she wished she could reverse time. 

‘I’m Alexandra Cabot, everyone calls me Alex! I thought Alexandra was too long and feminine. Sometimes when people read “Alex” on a form, they expect me to be a man!’ She’d pause to laugh. ‘It would throw them off their game! I love cats, I had one as a kid. A soft fluffy white one named Misty. I’ve always wanted a Maine Coon, they’re my favorites. My favorite color is blue; blue like the sky, blue like the ocean– we had a boat when I was a kid. I know, I know, rich white person stereotype,’ she’d pause for laughter as her co-workers nudged her shoulder playfully. ‘The boat was always so clean and pristine! I swear my father–’ 

Her thoughts were cut short by a knock at the door. She realized how pathetic that whole scenario in her head was. She was really going insane if it meant fantasizing about mundane conversations about her childhood cat with her co-workers– half of whom she couldn’t even name. 

She got up and walked cautiously to the door before hearing the three knock code rapped against it. The Marshals had set up a specific knock on specific parts of the door to let Alex know when it was them. She had refused a gun, even though Cragen offered, so they took extra precautions to ensure her safety. 

She looked through the peephole to see the two familiar bulky Marshals and a young woman. She opened the door, quirking her brow. 

“Did you bring me a sacrifice?” 

They didn’t laugh. The girl had deep red hair, full lips, and was about Alex’s height. She was in regular clothes, so it didn’t seem like she was a cop or involved with the US Marshals. She had slight bangs, greenish hazel eyes, and an awkward emanation. 

Finally, the bearded Marshal on the right continued. “This is Cassandra Price. Your girlfriend.”

So what if Alex & Casey didn’t know each other at all but met because they were both in witness protection & had to move together & pretend to be a couple because whoever is chasing each of them aren’t looking for 2 people just individual placements?

Yes I know it’s super campy silly romcom not at all how it would work in real witness protection idea but that’s just a minor detail to what could be the best fake dating while falling in love & wanting to real date your fake gf/wife Calex story we all want/need?!

Anyway think about it

[maximoffcarter]

just wanted to stop by to say that I’m getting done some requests and will be posting them in the next few days (said I wouldn’t post daily but here I am posting almost daily🫢) if you got any requests please send them my way, I’m nice to talk to, I take any ideas and requests🫶🏻

also…a new one is coming later today, Calex fic…I’m nervous about it and bestie @saurgaeee knows about it🫢 stay tuned😉

[world-cinema-research]

A Critical Analyzation of Tangerine (2015) with Comparisons to Reservoir Dogs (1992)

By Cris Nyne

From the opening scene of Tangerine by Sean Baker, the dialogue feels like a long string of firecrackers sparked by the lead character Sin-Dee Rella (Kitana Kiki Rodriguez) that doesn’t stop until the end of the film. Sin-Dee has just gotten released from jail after serving twenty-eight days and she is seated with her best friend Alexandra (Mya Taylor) in a donut shop. Both are transgender sex workers in West Hollywood. As soon as Sin-Dee mentions her boyfriend (and pimp) Chester (James Ransone), Alexandra interjects and states how she knew she was going to break up with him because of how much he cheats. This confuses Sin-Dee and throws her off into a tailspin of rage and determination to track down Chester, and they’re off! Interestingly enough, in Reservoir Dogs by Quentin Tarantino, the film opens up with the main characters sitting around a table in a diner, discussing topics like the true meaning behind Madonna’s Like a Virgin, and why Mr. Pink (Steve Buscemi) doesn’t tip waitresses. Both films revolve around people who are on the fringe of society and operate in the shadows of what is considered normal and accepted.

Sin-Dee Rella catching up with Alexandra during the opening scene of Tangerine.

Lawrence Tierney as Joe Cabot, a crime family boss who got the crew together to pull a diamond heist. This is the opening scene when Joe is counting the tip money and makes Mr. Pink (Steve Buscemi) throw in a dollar, despite his beliefs of not tipping servers.

Tangerine was filmed with an estimated budget of $100,000 and was shot with three iPhone 5s and an eight-dollar phone app. The film is based around transgender sex workers and the lifestyle that they live. This can hardly be considered a mainstream or conventional film. Although the film had an incredibly low budget, Tangerine generated more than $930,000 at the box office. It was picked up by Magnolia Pictures at Sundance after overwhelming praise for the film from critics and audiences alike. Rotten Tomatoes lists Tangerine with a critic score of 96% and an audience score of 76%. The film was also nominated for many awards, and co-star Mya Taylor won numerous awards for her brake out role as Alexandra.

Katherine Johnson for the academic journal The Conversation writes, “Given the marginal status of many transgender people, the mental health stresses they face and the likelihood of discrimination in access to health care, secure housing and employment, it is important that populist representations create realistic and non-shaming examples of trans lives.” Tangerine creates a narrative that expresses the determination and grit of the transgender community to thrive in a society that does not whole-heartedly accept them."

The official trailer for Tangerine.

A burgeoning new mind state was coming of age during the year of Tangerine’s release in 2015. RuPaul’s Drag Race and Caitlyn Jenner’s reality show I Am Cait pushed the idea of gender roles into the American lexicon and fostered a new mindset of understanding and acceptance from a swath of the public who only knew the concept of patriarchy. The Danish Girl was also released the same year. This was a film based upon a novel by David Ebershoff that told the story of an artist that is about to undergo one of the world’s first sex change operations. Collins dictionary runner up to the word of the year was Transgender in 2015. That same year also saw the Supreme Court federally legalize same sex marriage.

A monumental shift was happening. As we steamroll into the future, every family seemingly has a member that does not fit into the norms of society. Loved ones that we grew up with would keep secrets of their sexuality and desires, as to not be rejected or ostracized by those close to them. Seeing representations of themselves on screen facilitates acceptance and the related content is empowering. Roger Ebert concludes:

“That we rarely see transgender characters in movies who aren't prostitutes is an entirely separate issue that I'm sure will be discussed in months to come—but here, too, we have to keep such misgivings in context: American films rarely show us worlds like these, and when they do, the films don't tend to get much attention.”

Roger Ebert once again hits the narrative right on the head. It’s a positive step to see more diverse representation on screen, but how they are represented will remain a source of friction.

The official movie poster for Tangerine (2015)

As I mentioned earlier, Tangerine was shot with an iPhone and a film app. Perhaps that is harped upon all too often when describing the film, but fast forward nine years after the film’s release, a lot of us now experience a voyeuristic life through our smartphones. This has distinguished the film as unique upon itself and makes the style and feel of the movie relatable. It’s as if you are sitting in a rumble seat along for the ride. Tarantino’s film Reservoir Dogs, although created before iPhones, also lends itself to an up-close-and-personal style that is engaging to the viewer. Most of the film was shot in one room, almost giving the viewer space to look around the warehouse. Violence is evident in both films, although Tangerine does not supply the bloodshed that Tarantino submerges us in. Both films are dialogue-heavy, full of rapid-fire wit and over-the-top colorful street slang.

Another trait both films shared are the smaller production companies that financed the film that also did not have household name actors to help draw in an audience. Tangerine was a Duplass Brothers Production, along with Cre FIlm, Freestyle Picture Company, and Through Films. It was later at Sundance when Magnolia would assist with a wider distribution. The main stars Kitana Kiki Rodriguez and Mya Taylor were picked from an LGBTQ center and were virtually unknown. Since it was Tarantino's first film, he was not yet a name brand and most of the actors at that time were not that recognizable, except for Harvey Keitel, whose career was essentially at a standstill during this period in '92. Keitel wound up co-producer Reservoir Dogs, and paid for the studio to help secure the talent. Dog Eat Dog Productions Inc. and Live Entertainment were the companies involved with finance and distribution.

Sin-Dee getting into a screaming match while looking for her partner and pimp Chester.

A memorable scene of Mr. Pink (Buscemi) and Mr. White (Harvey Keitel) arguing over the next step after the cops threw their plans into disarray.

Although every country has its own distinct cultures and quirks, both Tangerine and Reservoir Dogs are international in their appeal to viewers who appreciate the representation of the underbelly of culture that is a shared common bond of anywhere in the world. They were both filmed in highly unconventional styles that exposed aspects of society that many mainstream audiences at home and abroad would consider best left in the dark. Reservoir Dogs was Tarantino’s first film, so he was virtually unknown during its release. Sean Baker had a few films under his belt, but they were independent films with low budgets that revolved around the lives of sex workers. Mainstream audiences would not be familiar with his catalog. Sean Baker’s latest film Anora was just crowned with the Palme d’Or at Cannes, and it also delves into the trivial life of a sex worker. Both directors have very distinct styles and references throughout their careers that build upon a cinematic theme.

Tangerine and Reservoir Dogs both came full circle by the movies end. There was nothing left for debate, and you could deduce that there was not going to be a part two for either film. All the gangsters were dead by the end of Reservoir Dogs, and Sin-Dee and Alexandra completed their mission, as both characters expressed resolve in the last scene.

Sin-Dee finally catches up with Chester (James Ransone) to confront him on his cheating.

Tangerine is a film that flew under the radar, but I believe will continue to find new viewers as Sean Baker continues to rise as a respected writer and director in the industry. Given the advances we have made in the last decade since the films release, the addition of genders up for debate and their roles in society, Mr. Baker will seemingly have a lot of content to sort through and create in an ever-changing world of self-discovery.

[aubvrns]

loved the alex hc!! i need more for her pleasee maybe about secret relationship but i would love anything tysmm!!

The Secret Of Us

| SVU & Headcanons

Sypnosis — What’s it like being in a relationship with Alexandra Cabot, when it’s only you and her that know?

Note — Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy!

(Female lawyer centered, pronouns used)

———————————————————————

!!

• — You met Alex when you were a replacement for the defense lawyer she was opposed to, who quit her case because it unjustified her moral.

• — Alexandra Cabot was widely known as the determined ADA who stays unyielding in each case she prosecutes. And you, an attorney she had never met before, comes waltzing to her tenacious self.

• — The arraignment started, and ended with you winning the case with a verdict ever-so positive.

• — Alex was furious, upset that she didn’t win a case she’s been working hardly for, yet her subtle expressionless face gives you a handshake.

• — And all at once, her heart was beating out of her chest as you flash her a genuine smile, feeling your soft hands linger against hers.

• — A year passed, and it’s all she’s ever held.

• — Both of you chose to keep your relationship a secret, or at least private. But it hasn’t stopped you from loving eachother deafeningly.

• — When you two meet at the precinct, it’s mostly playful banter between you two.

• — Occasionally glancing at her blue eyes as she talks to your client, as if you hadn’t left her apartment wearing her shirt in the morning.

• — She would totally be the type of girlfriend who leaves little sticky notes on your desk to remind you of your tasks, or to just write a compliment since she couldn’t talk to you during work hours.

• — And you would be the type to text her all the details about your day, even if you were going to tell her again at your rendezvous.

• — Alex would reach for your hands, holding them when no one is looking. Or placing her hand above your thigh, tracing circles.

• — Not to mention, the discreet meetings when the patience eventually ran out. (How’d you end up on top of the desk?)

• — But behind closed doors, all you’ve had was eachother. May the whole world never know how much clingy could the infamous Alexandra Cabot be, and how you were basically the cure to her insomnia.

• — It’s the subtle actions that make the hiding and pretending fun, you both liked the thrill anyway.

• — One time, you almost got caught.

• — In the café next to the precinct, you were talking about your agendas for the next pending case, when Munch walks in to order a coffee.

• — You notice, and widen your eyes. You assumed the detective preferred tea over coffee, you were wrong.

• — Meanwhile, upon the buzz of the brasserie, the blonde seemed unbothered. Not a single panicked tone in her face as she simply sips her drink.

• — "Well, well. What a surprise. You were this close to biting eachother’s faces off in court and now you two are having coffee?"

• — Alex laughs, "People change, Detective." Her hand gently stirs off yours under the table, taking her glasses off.

• — "Over coffee." You add with a sarcastic smile on your face, bumping knees with the taller.

• — John smirked, seeing the similarity of your highlighters that you used in your paperwork.

• — "Indeed, indeed they do." He chuckles, shaking his head before leaving the cafeteria.

• — Maybe it was best you stayed home.

!!

[serenasoutherlyns]

a gift - chapter one

Alex Cabot doesn't care about her birthday.

Calex/kind of an Alex character study two shot about her birthday. Olivia, Amanda, Munch, and Fin appear. Part two out soon. I write requests! This one was from @cabotlvr.

ao3

“Oh,” Her mom said from across the dinner table, “It’s your birthday today, isn’t it?”

Somehow, even Alex forgot this year.

“Oh, yes. It is,” she said, surprised. Today I am seven.” She barely felt excited. She never enjoyed other children’s birthday parties, so she hadn’t had her own since she turned four. It was really only another day. It was a Saturday, so she even got to skip everyone’s attention at school.

“We should sing,” her mom said, turning to her father.

“No, thank you,” Alex said, “May I please be excused?”

Her mom looked at her with a slightly downturned mouth.

“Of course. Happy birthday, Alexandra.”

“Thank you, mom” She said.

When Alex got to her room, she opened up her book, a new one: Ramona Quimby: Age 8.  She liked Ramona, even though they weren’t very much alike. Ramona was so naughty! But, she had a big imagination like Alex did. She spent the evening of her seventh birthday with exactly the company she wanted.

“ALEX!!!!” Heather yelled when she entered the classroom. It was buzzing with the excitement that always came with the last week of school. Alex startled. She looked behind her, then patted her skirt pockets. She didn’t see any threat or reason to be so agitated.

“What?” She said.

Heather pulled out a noisemaker and blew it.

“Happy birthday!” Heather said. Some of the rest of the class looked at Heather, annoyed, then turned away. Some of them stifled laughter, a sound all too familiar to Alex.

Oh. Alex had noticed that when she crossed today off in her calendar at home. She should’ve guessed it would be a big deal at school. Against her will, her face turned pink and she started to cry. It made them all laugh louder. Alex ran to the bathroom, the tears in her eyes rolling down her cheeks now. Sixth grade was the worst and she never wanted to step foot in that stupid school again. And she never wanted to see Heather Montague again either.

When she stopped crying, she went to the nurse and said she had a stomach ache and she threw up in the bathroom. When her nanny arrived to pick her up, Alex didn’t say a word. When they got home, she went straight to her room. She missed soccer that day, and she missed French class the next. When her parents asked what was wrong at dinner, she told them it was nothing. She didn’t talk to Heather for a week.

She hated her stupid birthday.

CONGRATS GRADS — CLASS OF ’92 read the banner in front of the auditorium.   There should’ve been two parties today. Graduation meant a lot to Alex, as did her 4.0 and her acceptance letter from Wellesley. Still, she didn’t see a need for much fanfare. Everyone she loved had congratulated her already, so what was the big deal?

18 was just another year. She didn’t want to buy cigarettes, or go all the way to Montreal like some of her classmates were.

No, she wanted to spend the day with one person and one person only.

After the ceremony, they drove out to Heather’s uncle’s country house, still in their graduation dresses, polaroid camera in tow. They stole a bottle of champagne and laid a picnic blanket out by the lake. As the night got chillier they got closer. Alex’s heart pounded when they finally kissed.

“Happy birthday, Alex,” Heather whispered a centimeter from her lips. Alex started to cry.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“I’m just going to miss you.”

Heather kissed her again, and Alex wanted the night to last forever.

Year two was over, and Alex truly felt like celebrating. While she did have an internship looming over her head, at least there were no more classes to go to. Anne, Cecilia, and Thomas were going out so Alex was going out, the three of them were attached at the hips these days. Thomas had found a guy, and Anne and Cecilia were all over each other, but Alex didn’t mind being the fifth wheel.

“Alex!!” Thomas slurred from the dance floor. “Alex, come dance with us,” he continued. “Aaaaaalex!”

Alex did as she was asked. Thomas was very compelling, she loved that about him. He was very charming and he always had some guy or another on his arm, whether they were at a school event or a jam-packed dance floor.

 She was just tipsy enough to dance her whole heart out. She saw someone she recognized sitting at the bar, the cute redhead she’d only seen in passing at the library or in faculty talks. They must be in different years. She was with a big group of girls and guys; some of whom she recognized as classmates, some of whom she didn’t. She was wearing a pair of black overalls and a baggy white t-shirt, she had her somewhat short hair tied back in a sensible ponytail.

Alex thought she would make an excellent dance companion.

“Can I buy you a drink?” She said when she walked up to her. She smiled back when she turned to face Alex. It was a pretty smile, big and genuine. It made Alex smile too.

“You can,” she said, “But don’t ask me to dance with you unless you want an elbow to the eye.” Alex laughed and shrugged. She didn’t know how the woman would manage that, since they seemed about the same height, but the conviction with which she said it made her think that it had happened before.

“Deal,” she said, making eye contact with the bartender. “What am I getting you, um,” Alex trailed off, realizing she’d forgotten to ask her name.

“Casey,” she said, “Gin and tonic.” Alex ordered them two. She took the time to really notice Casey, her toned arms and rosy cheeks: she was pale, and it was hot inside the bar. Casey licked her lips and Alex noticed them, how plump and soft they looked. She liked everything she saw, very much.

“Alex,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Casey said. “I think I’ve seen you around.”

“Yes, I recognize you from the library.”

“That’s it! You’re the one who’s always sitting on the couches with your papers spread out,” Casey said. Alex must’ve blushed, because Casey reassured her, “It’s very, um, intriguing.” She squeezed Alex’s arm and ran her hand down to Alex’s, touching her thumb and thigh before she pulled away.

“You’re the one who always has an iced latte,” Alex said in return.

“Caramel,” Casey said, nodding. “I guess we’ve noticed each other,” She said, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Happy Birthday to me, Alex thought.

It was her birthday. Or, the day that wasn’t her birthday anymore.

It was hard to keep it all straight. She was already on her second round of names, birthdays, towns, backstories. She should’ve counted on running into someone she knew, but she didn’t think it would be so soon. So a month into being Penelope Greyson, office manager for the county clerk, she still felt like Alex Cabot. She was clinging to feeling like Alex Cabot, holding out hope that one day it would be safe to return to her. Maybe she could even work for the DA again, maybe even in SVU. Maybe Olivia would still be there. She wondered who they replaced her with.

She could never have imagined it would be like this. Not in law school, not when she started in the DA’s office, thinking it would just be a stepping stone to politics. Not even while she was trying cases for SVU did she think things would rise to this level. Protective detail sometimes, sure, but not losing her entire life this way. Sometimes she thought it was only a few steps better than death. To lose it all: no friends, no family, none of the work she cared about, just numbers and schedules and meetings. She went to the park sometimes, brought a book. She watched TV, the news; all the dramas and comedies she’d never had time for in her old life. It bored her to tears. Alex found herself wishing she’d had all those birthday parties she skipped.

When she got home from work, Alex dropped her bag on the floor. Then she picked it right back up. She was craving birthday cake, though she hadn’t had one of her own in 26 years.

The store was busy: it was the only supermarket in a half hour radius from most of the county. It seemed like the whole population was there, women with full carts carrying babies, men in jeans picking out steaks, teenagers with baskets full of candy. Before, Alex hardly ever went into a supermarket. She found it so funny and so foreign how kids hung out in the parking lot, driving out there just to sit in their cars and make trouble.

In the baking aisle, Alex stared at the millions of options in front of her: funfetti, angel food, yellow cake, dark chocolate, not to mention the brownies, cookies, and muffins. Alex didn’t know what kind she wanted. Other people seemed to mostly pick yellow cake, so she guessed that was what made the most sense. She picked up the box and read the instructions. She had eggs and vegetable oil. She’d slowly, very slowly been learning how to cook.

She made it all the way to the cash register before realizing she didn’t have a cake pan. The foil ones seemed like her safest bet. And frosting, people had frosting on birthday cakes. Alex picked chocolate.

Alex mixed the cake in the pasta pot. She liked how it looked while she poured it into the foil pan, how it flowed. She smoothed the top like the box instructed, and she liked how the batter felt under the metal spoon. She liked how it smelled as it baked, the whole house was filled with vanilla. When a knife inserted in the center came out clean, she pulled it out of the oven.

Somewhere, somehow, Alex remembered that you shouldn’t frost a cake before it cools down. So, she let the cake cool all the way down. It was almost 11:00 before that happened, but she didn’t care. She spread the frosting on top of the cake (she left it in the pan, she wasn’t that brave). She forgot the candles, but she didn’t care. She hummed herself happy birthday.

The cake was delicious. Alex Cabot made a cake. It was her birthday.

[waiting4winnie]

Welcome To My Sapphic Serenades.

All my work is 18+. You can make requests. I am a twenty-five year old black woman who is Hispanic. Who I write for is listed below.

Winnie • Miller's Girl

Gabi Mosely • Found

Olivia Benson • law & order svu

Casey Novak • law & order svu

Alexandra Cabot • law & order svu

Sarah Cameron • Outerbanks

Amy Dunne • Gone Girl

Bella Swan• Twilight

Rosalie Hale • Twilight

Clarice Starling • Hannibal

Dr Vera Gorski • Sucker Punch

Dani Nunez • The L Word: Generation Q

Shane • The L Word

[storiesofsvu]

🎉✨Requests Open!✨🎉

My ask box (and thus requests) is completely empty!! Send in some of your favourite characters with a prompt/idea!! 👀👀

(But pls specify which character & fandom. Dont make me make choices lol)

BONUS POINTS FOR ANGST!

Any character I write for, but including;

-Amanda Rollins

-Alexandra Cabot

-Liz Donnelly

-Rita Calhoun

-Rafael Barba

-Peter Stone

-Tara Lewis

-Derek Morgan

-Heather Dunbar

-Alex Blake

-Abigail Borin

-Anthony DiNozzo

A collection of prompt lists:

A Shit Ton of Angsty Prompts

A Shit Ton MORE angsty prompts

105 Comfort Prompts

Hit ‘em Where it Hurts

Betrayal Liners

Hurt Comfort Dialogue Prompts

100 Prompts- Angst edition

100 More Angst/Argument Prompts

Heartbreak Prompts

Whump Dialogue Pt 1

Whump Dialogue Pt 2

100 Prompts to break hearts

50 Ways to Say I hate you

Angst Prompts

Angst Dialogue Prompts

Angsty Conversation Starters

Fluffy One Liners

Fluff #1

66 Fluff Prompts

Early Morning Prompts

50 Ways to say I Love You

50 More Ways to say I love you

35 Fluff Prompts

Staying the Night Prompts

100 Prompts to Swoon Over

140 Smutty Prompts

100 NSFW Dialogue Prompts

NSFW Dialogue Prompts

100 Smut Prompt

100 Smut Dialogue Prompts

100 Smut Dialogue pt 2

150 Mixed Prompts

Mixed #2

Mixed #3

Mixed #4

Mixed #5

Mixed #6

200 Mixed Prompts

100 Fanfic Prompts

50 Prompts Pt 1

50 Prompts Pt 2

Drabble Challenge 1-150

160 Writing Prompts

210 Writing Prompts

[aries-rising-on-an-aquarius-tide]

Evocations: XII

Alexandra couldn't decide what was worse - that she was jealous over a perfect stranger openly flirting with Olivia, or the fact that she knew it was irrational. It wasn't like her, to be either jealous or irrational; her reputation was for being calm to the point of coldness under pressure.

But nothing, when it came to Olivia, was cold.

Alex ran a finger through the condensation on her drink's glass, glancing up for what seemed like the hundredth time at the woman having a smiling conversation with Liv. The strange blonde giggled and found an excuse to touch Liv's forearm, causing Alex to deathgrip her glass as her eyes narrowed.

It didn't help that Olivia's gaydar was piss-poor. She was an incredible detective, smart and intuitive when it came to victims or chasing sex offenders. Flirting, though, sent the brunette into a foreign land where she seemed to lack both language and direction. Unless she stripped her clothes off and made an obvious move, Alex assumed Liv wouldn't even realize that this aggressive blonde was interested.

Is it because it's a woman? Alex wondered, scrutinizing her jealousy. She had never been jealous in the past, with other girlfriends. Perhaps, without realizing it, she had been unconcerned about losing them. Olivia had never given her reason to worry about infidelity, never - and they had been together over a year and a half.

Tipping her drink to her mouth, Alex looked over at the two women again, finding the nameless blonde now gesturing in the direction of the bar - likely offering to buy Liv a drink. Alex sucked an ice cube from her glass and crunched it between her teeth, her jealousy simmering in her belly.

She wasn't oblivious to the amount of attention that Olivia constantly drew. Alex was well aware that her partner was stunning, and usually, seeing others stumble over themselves like stuttering, blushing fools just made Alex more proud that she was hers. This time, this night . . . everything seemed off-kilter.

Sighing, she drained the glass, chewed more ice, and looked over again. But they were gone.

Not just the stranger - Liv, too. Both gone.

Alexandra startled to her feet off her bar stool as her chest was gripped with blazing anxiety and anger. She forced herself to take a breath and swept her gaze all around the room, sure that she was just panicking over nothing. But her eyes weren't deceiving her - Olivia was nowhere in the room.

Grabbing her clutch purse, Alex left her glass of melting ice and started in the direction of the restroom, as it was the most logical assumption. Beneath the surface of her skin, she could feel her irritation buzzing like a live wire.

While there were people in the restroom, Liv nor the blonde was among them. Alex took the time to splash cold water on her wrists and back of her neck in an attempt to think clearly. In spite of this attempt, she felt her anxiety tip over into real upset, and her stomach cramped.

She charged back through the bar - as best a tall woman in heels can charge - and plowed through the double glass doors into the cool evening. Her gaze scanned up and down the sidewalk among the people milling about, first left and then right. The second look to the right, Alexandra finally spotted them, down the sidewalk away from the others.

Liv was laughing as the other woman tossed a cigarette to the pavement and stamped it out. Alex swallowed dryly as the two women hugged, and Olivia held open the door to the taxi at the curb, ushering the blonde inside. For just a breath, Alex's heart stilled completely, imagining her lover getting into the cab with the woman and driving away, taking her entire life with her.

Then she blinked, her heart started again, and the cab was pulling away as Liv was coming back down the sidewalk in Alexandra's direction. When she got past some of the people, Olivia noticed Alex where she stood, arms crossed over her chest, still strangling her clutch bag.

"Hey! What're you doing out here in the cold?" she asked Alex with a curious grin.

"Who was that?" Alex's voice was flat, and controlled. It was her about-to-cross-examine voice.

"We went to college together," Liv answered, glancing back in the direction of the long-gone black and yellow. "Just an old acquaintance."

Alex rolled her eyes, exhaling heavily. Liv raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"An acquaintance. She was flirting, Olivia."

A laugh bubbled out of Liv before she could catch it. "What?! Al, don't be ridiculous," she shook her head.

"That's what you always say," Alex returned, "but just because you're oblivious doesn't mean no one is flirting!'

"It doesn't mean everyone is flirting, either!"

Alex threw her hands out in front of her and huffed, then opened her clutch and rooted for keys. They had been renting an SUV for a few weeks, toying with the idea of jointly buying a vehicle, and it was parked in a lot behind the drink club.

"I'm going home. You can come, or not," she tossed off, and turned in the direction of the parking lot.

"Alex, you - " Liv started, but the ADA was already moving, and she had to lurch forward to hurry after her, "You can't be serious!"

"I'm perfectly serious."

"We hardly spoke!"

"Imagine, the concept of body language," Alex deadpanned, "playing a part in flirting. A novelty."

"'Lex. You were drinking and I wasn't; give me the keys," Olivia tried, changing tactics.

"Are you accusing me of being drunk?"

"Not at all, I would just prefer to drive."

They had made it to the vehicle, and Alex stopped within a foot of the driver's side door. "Would you really? Like to drive?" she asked.

"Yes," Liv nodded, and moved to take the keys, which Alexandra pulled away and up at the last moment, dangling them in her hand above her head.

"Then you'll have to arrest me. Detective," she taunted.

Running out of patience, Liv sighed and moved into Alex's space, their bodies aligning as she pressed her into the cold metal of the SUV, reaching for the keys.

"Is that what you want? Me to handcuff you?" the brunette chuckled, making sure to brush against the sensitive inside of Alex's wrist. But the look in the blonde's eyes was still heavy with nerves, making Liv still.

"Alex. Why were you so worried? Have I ever given you reason - "

"Of course not," she said immediately. "But . . . "

"But what?"

"Everybody always wants you," Alex said quietly, blushing faintly, feeling ridiculous now that her fear was fading.

"Oh. Mm," Liv acknowledged. "Well, you know who I want?" she murmured. The blonde met her gaze, but didn't speak. She pressed Alex even harder against the door, leaning toward her mouth. "I want you."

Alexandra suppressed her grin and tipped her head up, forcing Olivia's kiss to land on her neck instead of her mouth. "Only me?"

"Only you," Liv confirmed.

"I want you, too," Alex sighed, melting into the press of warm kisses down her neck. She slipped her arms around Liv, pulling her mouth up to kiss her. "To myself," she added, "just mine ."

"Yours," Liv nodded.

Alex cupped a breast through the brunette's sensible button-up. "Mine?"

"Yours."

The hand curved around and down, gripping her ass through her pants. "Mine?"

Olivia nodded again. Alex's hand slid gently between Liv's thighs, sending a shock of desire through her. "And this?"

"Of course."

Finally, Alex brought her hand back up, pressing it firmly against Olivia's chest over her heart.

"Yours," Liv said, without hesitation.

Alex felt like she could breathe again as she nudged the keys into Olivia's palm. "Drive me home," she murmured, "so I can show you what's yours."