#REFERENCE * ( olivia benson )

[senior-ada-novak]

Casey sipped on her coffee, glancing at Liv before averting her gaze away.

"He's a chemical engineer, it's better to be safe than sorry."

She pointed out.

"We also can't have anyone else stopping by your place, it needs to be executed as smoothly as possible. No casualties or anything."

She added shortly after.

Liv walked into the court room, she sat down on the bench and glanced across the room only to see Casey Novak. Her eyes widened slightly and she smiled.

The case , unfortunately, went to mistrial with the jury unable to reach a decision.

"Hey! Casey!" Liv called after her once they left the courtroom.

@senior-ada-novak

[teddykisser]

Protective & Possessive

Part 2 to Our Little Family

Beautiful Things

Captain Olivia Benson x Pregnant Female Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, Kissing, Fluff, Mean Remarks, Secret Pregnancy, Protective Rolline, Posessive Reader, Massage, Dead Bodies, Suggestive Themes, Horny Reader, Brief D/S Dynamic Mention, Slight Smut Towards End.

You were back at work the next day. Your lunch break spent in Olivia's office. You rested your hands on your stomach, in awe that there was really a baby in there.

Olivia sat at her desk, admiring you. A soft smile was present on her face as you touched your stomach. Olivia herself was still in shock that you were pregnant.

She gently turned your head back up to meet hers, giving you a sweet kiss before pulling away and looking at you. "Are you sure you're okay?" She asked softly, still holding your waist.

Her gaze fell onto you.

"Mhm, better get back out there.." You nodded, beginning to detach yourself from her arms.

"I'll see you later, sweetheart. Let me know if you need anything." Olivia added.

You closed the door behind you as you watched Rollins return from her break.

"Hi Y/N" She smiled, sitting at her desk.

"Hey Manda, what's new?" You spoke, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"There's been a break in the case" Munch interrupted.

As Munch briefed the team, Olivia focused on the work in front of her. She was only half paying attention to what was going on. She was still thinking about earlier, thinking about you being pregnant with her child. The thought alone filled her with warmth. She knew this would be something she'd be thinking about for the rest of the day.

The case required the team to go into the field. Olivia grabbed her coat and bag to follow everyone else into action. The case wasn't too bad, thankfully. She walked with the team, making sure to keep an eye on you throughout. She couldn't help but be a bit protective, especially knowing that you were now carrying a baby, her baby.

There was a dead body that had been dead for a few days so it had a rancid smell. You tried to resist gagging and keep your composure. This action didn't go unnoticed by Liv.

She saw your expression as you saw the body and inched closer to you. Olivia placed her hand on your back, rubbing it gently. "You okay, dear?" She asked. She didn't want you to be too stressed, especially now. She was a bit concerned for your health.

"Y-Yeah.. it's just the s-smell" You admitted, whispering in her ear. You didn't want the rest of the team to know the news just yet. Didn't wanna jinx it.

Olivia nodded and kept a hand on your back, gently rubbing circles with her thumb, trying to comfort you. "Oh. My love.. It's going to be alright. Just breathe for me, okay?" She knew the next few months wouldn't be easy for you but it will be so worth it.

"You alright, Y/N? It's not your first dead body, is it?" Munch remarked, his eyes judging you.

Olivia looked up, her eyes glared at the other detective. This wasn't the time or place for jokes. She moved her hand from your back, instead putting it on your stomach, rubbing it softly. "It's alright," she reassured you, ignoring the other detective's comment.

"You know she's one of the younger agents leave her alone" Rollins spoke, referring to your age. Rollins was very motherly to you, and protective of you so she came to your rescue.

"Thank you, Amanda" Olivia turned to Rollins, giving her a nod. She hated when her teammates made comments that were just insensitive. She knew they didn't mean to be rude, but now was certainly not the time. The captain kept her hand on your stomach, rubbing it gently.

"In public?" You mouthed, refering to Liv's hand caressing your stomach. You didn't want your team to find out and this was a dead giveaway.

Olivia knew what you meant. She couldn't help but feel a bit protective and wanted everyone to know, but she also wasn't quite ready for anyone to know yet. She knew it would only be a matter of time before someone put the pieces together. "You're doing so well, don't worry about the others." She whispered, trying to reassure you.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

The team had returned back to the office, wrapping up the case. You were in Olivia's office, relaxing. The team knew of your relationship with the captain but they didn't know that you two were trying to have a child.

Olivia's hovered behind you, her hands working the knots in your shoulder. "You're so tense, my love.." Olivia spoke softly.

You closed your eyes, lending your hand back slightly. A quiet groan escaped from your lips.

"That's it baby, let it all out" Olivia encouraged. Her lips ghosted your neck.

"You're such a good girl, my best girl" She praised.

You stood up, backing Liv against the wall. Your gaze darkened, you bit your lip as your hand found it's way around her neck.

"Shh.. Gotta keep quiet Captain.." You smirked, you sucked on the skin on her neck, taking it between your teeth.

"Mine" You whimpered against her.

Olivia couldn't lie, she was turned on by your possessiveness, and slightly curious of where it came from. She wasn't complaining though.

"B-baby.. we're a-at work" She reminded you, trying to keep her composure and not submit to you. She didn't want to give up her power but God you felt so good against her.

"Mmm.. don't you want this Liv.." Yiu mumbled against her, your other hand snaked down to her stomach, resting just below her pants.

"We're still at work, we'll have time for this later." Olivia added gently, pulling your face away from her neck.

"Benson! Y/L/N!" A voice exclaimed from the briefing room.

Olivia jumped, pulling away from you. She straightened her shirt and ran a hand through her hair to mess it around a bit so there wasn't as much evidence of what had just happened.

[iwoulddieforher]

Pondering Temperature | Casey Novak//&Alex Cabot

Author's Note:

First post ... I have absolutely no clue how tumblr works or how the tumblr social interaction is supposed to be, however, I am so obsessive about these two dumb gay lawyers I had to show up anyway.

No warnings & this is also partially a character study experiment for Casey ... I wanted it to feel like it was vaguely possible a scene like this could exist in canon.

Summary: One dumb gay lawyer has a rough time of it and the other dumb gay lawyer takes her for coffee and then they proceed to have a casual conversation with very gay overtones.

4.4k words, I think?

//Images stolen from either here or Pinterest

Like a breeze that exasperates an already cold New York winter, Alex Cabot made Casey Novak uncomfortable. Not outright agitated or irritable, but just enough of a nuisance that she couldn't push it out of her mind, and if she managed, she would be inevitably reminded of it shortly as the wind picked back up again, scattering snowflakes across her face.

For around a month, she and Cabot had been “sharing” SVU. She had returned from suspension, and Cabot had returned from wherever the hell she was, and the precinct wanted both of them so they just kept sharing caseloads. It should have made her thrilled- another ADA meant she could be even more hands-on in the active cases, be able to study each argument until she could perform all of her movements flawlessly. But with Cabot, it just didn't work right.

They said less than fifty words to each other per day, and none of them were ever in sentences. A quick, “another case came in- mine, or yours?”, “Olivia needs a warrant filled, so I’m going to the courthouse- did you need anything from a judge?” “Warner asked to see you,” “Olivia asked to see you,” “Cragen’s looking for you,” God. People were always looking.

The person giving the curt notice would never expect a response- if anything, a nod or a short “Yeah, on it”, and then exit immediately.

It felt ridiculously awkward. Warmer than greeting a defense counsel, because at least they were fighting the same fight, but compared to the warmth of connection shared by the rest of the squad- yes, okay, bickering was constant, but they cared about each other on a level hard for any outsider to understand- it felt cold.

Cold reminded Casey immediately of the teasing nickname the squad referred to Cabot with- ‘Ice Queen'. It didn't help that for the first months of becoming the Special Victims counselor, Casey was constantly fighting to fill the shoes of Cabot in the squad member's eyes- and now, that legendary blonde was perched casually in the office somewhere near her’s, her annoyingly cooperative naturally blonde hair flowing down her annoyingly straight, always squared back shoulders.

Fighting the squad's fiery rejection with her own fire of determination, setting everything ablaze in a stupid, unnecessary, inefficient inferno that Alexandra Cabot would never struggle with. Amazing.

“Earth to Casey.” Olivia broke through her thoughts, piquing an eyebrow at her and settling down at the chair across from Casey’s desk. The ADA casually slid her eyes down to the detective’s face, having mastered the art of not startling when people try to snap her back to active consciousness.

“Casey’s on Earth,” She hummed, tapping her pen idly on the desk.

"Sure you are." The detective snorted, shaking her head. "If you still had that red hair, I'd make a joke about you being a homesick martian."

Casey didn't have red hair anymore. She had blonde hair, like Alex. Except Alex's hair was a toned, icy blonde, while her own remained stubbornly warm no matter how much toner she tried to use to mask her original dark copper- at some point she quit trying, settling for a blonde so dirty it could possibly pass as light brown. That thought made her internally sigh with the level of rumination over that woman.

"What do you need?"

Benson dropped a case file on her desk, a grimace that reads of determined resignation on her face. "Could you get a warrant?"

Casey's brain clicked back over to work mode, sliding her finger along the side of the case file out of habit before freeing the pages from the bounds of a paperclip and skimming over the words. "This seems straightforward.. oh."

She blinked, slowly, glancing up at Liv without breathing. The police officer doesn't seem to notice anything wrong with her- thank god, sometimes Liv can be very unobservant- although she's very observant where it counts, so perhaps that's a rude musing to make- so she doesn't move to cover her hesitation.

"So, you want to pop the shrink?" She says, tracing the word 'schizophrenic' with the pad of her index finger.

Olivia nods, stiffening her shoulders in the sort of half-shrug motion that thinned her lips that Casey had come to identify with her. "We want to know more about his delusions to see if that matches up with what happened to this woman, but the good doctor just doesn't want to talk. He's also suspicious as hell, so..."

Casey huffs, squinting at a page. "I'll see what I can do."

"Well, that's your job, isn't it?" Olivia snarks, feisty but not overtly mean, just.. Liv-like. The toll of being a detective, Casey supposed, was her sense of urgency overriding politeness. That's fine. That's what she's grown used to, anyway. It doesn't stop Casey from gritting her teeth with a twitched eyebrow as Olivia stalks off.

It takes her a bit longer than she would've liked to prepare to take this into the judge on rotation's chambers. The affidavit was written, and sat unassumingly on her desk, while she tried to steel her nerves. If she's honest, she wished Olivia had chosen to take this to Cabot instead of her. Donnelly's leering eyes as she squinted at Casey around any mention of mental illness in perps made her immensely thrilled said judge was not likely to be inside said court today.

The judge who was inside the building, however, was not very sympathetic to the issue.

In all honesty, Casey doesn't really even understand how the argument happened. One moment she was walking up the steps into the polished, posh building and then she was walking down them, barely contained fury in her eyes and in the way she clenched her jaw.

"But you have to understand," she replays her own voice in her mind, the schooled, smooth tone, "doctor-patient confidentiality does not extend this far. If this man is genuinely a danger to himself and everyone around him, there's no reason this psychiatrist should be permitted to without vital information-"

The way the judge had raised a finger in her face, silencing her as one might a little irritated kid, "If this doctor thought that there was a genuine concern, then of course he would have. But these cases are sensitive, and I will not stand for the usage of these very personal admissions as shock value-"

"I assure you, any information found using this warrant will not be abused, Your Honor, and the detectives-"

"You don't have enough on him to guarantee him as a prime suspect, and could easily lead to a misdirection in the investigation and therefore in this court. Granting this warrant right now would be premature and lead too-"

"I understand and acknowledge what you're wary of, but I can assure you-"

"I don't think you can assure me of anything with a case like this, Novak." The judge had snapped, just shy of a scoff- but they followed it up quickly so it didn't come off too much like a personal jab with a "I see no reason why this is necessary."

Casey internally flared in response, standing utterly still for a moment as it felt like an engine ignition fumbled in her stomach, before exhaling and nodding. "Thank you for your time, Your Honor." She replied as a rehearsed courtesy and nothing more, turning to leave the judge's chambers.

The judge had raised an almost withered looking finger, denying her exit. "Novak, I want you to know, I'm watching your movements on this case. It's not your job to carry out personal justice as you see fit. I don't want a repeat of-"

"I'm aware I've made mistakes in the past, Your Honor, but I assure you I will not repeat prior incidents." Her voice had cracked almost imperceptibly at the end, a motion neither had acknowledged- perhaps the judge hadn't noticed, but Casey had- a sound like a wooden block in a fireplace.

The judge stared at her for a moment, and she had stared back, disguising the fire behind her green eyes with the practiced blanket of professionalism. The judge had then nodded, looking away from her, and she was finally released from the interaction. The sharp, curt sound of her heels on the marble floors as she stalked away had been her tether, fixated on the sound while schooling herself away from obsessing over the blazing anger.

And that led her to the stairs again, on the way out, where she stopped and stood blankly for a moment, staring into the street without registering anything. She ground her teeth against each other, trying her best to wrangle in her fiery temper before she impulsively sunk her teeth into something she could control-

"Casey?"

She jerked her head to the side, where a composed if not a bit concerned Alex Cabot stood, her head tilted just the slightest. Her cold blue eyes bore into Casey's face in a way that strangely was not uncomfortable.

When she didn't immediately grant that with any real response, Cabot followed it up with, "You okay?"

The beast of adrenaline-filled fire in her stomach flared out of her control again, pouncing and writhing in her organs. She wasn't exactly sure what about Alex at this moment had her infuriated, but god, she was.

Her years of experience in court, especially her time with SVU where she'd needed to control her emotions with an iron fist if not to fumble her arguments out of anger and easily-placed personal attachment, had taught her enough to respond in a way that didn't indicate her fury.

To the average person.

Unfortunately, Alex Cabot was not an average person, and her own years of experience allowed her to see right through the younger attorney, which did absolutely nothing for Casey's misplaced anger.

"Peachy," Casey started, before realizing she didn't have anything to follow that up with, so she left it with a curt, overtly controlled nod.

"Sure you are." Alex smiled, jerking her eyebrows up to indicate her sarcasm that definitely didn't need to be further emphasized, and Casey felt like she could deck her. She briefly wondered what Alex would look like beneath her on her floor, pale skin on cold concrete, before deciding that's not exactly an appropriate pondering of her coworker.

Cabot clearly intended for her successor-turned-ally to elaborate on the source of her grievance, but Casey did not particularly feel like explaining herself, so she simply bit the corner of her lip out of habit and looked away from her, tucking her hands in her coat pockets and squaring her shoulders.

If she was honest to herself, she didn't really know what to explain, anyway. She knew that after returning from something as appalling as her Brady-violation-censure, she'd need to work five times as hard to regain the respect she had thus lost, and it was in no way surprising she had gained a reputation for being loose with cases that could relate to her more personally. Alex could understand that, but saying that out loud was not only pathetic but also did not accurately encompass the feeling swirling in the pit of her stomach. And part of her anger, now, was simply due to the presence of the other woman, which she definitely could not verbalize either.

Alex was cool, calm, composed, and her demeanor reminded Casey of the layer of ice built by cold weather on the surface of a lake. Glassy and honest, and in all ways beautiful, but in a way that concealed whatever lurked beneath all that. You could look through it, sure, see the color of the water, but until it melted what you were really standing above was something you could only wonder about.

Standing next to her made Casey feel rather inferior. She had always felt things more strongly than peers, always pictured her anger and her righteousness as altruistic flame, and in the beginning of her career this untethered drive to fight for justice had been a valuable asset, something that drove her to snarl at wrongdoers in white collar in a way other attorneys simply could not. But in special victims? Where everything was so personal, so connected, so intrinsically human? Every spark became an inferno, every morning harder to struggle to leash herself than the last. Once the wildfire was over, everything was laid bare and burnt on the floor of whatever hill Casey had so chosen to die on. And cold, ever-composed Alex Cabot knew nothing of that.

The roar of fire in Casey's heart had no similarity to the tranquility of ice displayed exclusively by Alex. Perhaps that's why Casey would never be able to live up to the legend Cabot was regarded as. It made her feel disgustingly human- something this job did not allow her room for.

"We're getting coffee," Alex says suddenly, snapping Casey out of her internal monologue to herself for the second time. The natural blonde's words were snipped but not unkind, but that didn't stop Casey from raising her eyebrows, trying to muster the icy attitude she just didn't really have in her.

Before she can retort with anything of sustenance, she feels Alex's slim fingers on the back of her coat, right on the curve of her shoulder blade, and the taller woman beginning to lead her in firm strides that she without thinking copied.

"Alex-"

"Are we going to a cafe- perhaps the one down the street, the one with all the monsteras in the windows, so we can sit down, or are we going to the coffee cart over there so we can continue this discussion in the office?"

"What are we continuing, exactly?" Casey bristled, shooting her a look, which Alex met without her proper smile faltering in the slightest.

"My vote," Cabot says casually, "is for the cafe. I like the atmosphere there."

Casey can feel her anger ebbing, but just for the sake of spiting her she indicated with her jaw towards the shape of the coffee cart a hundred meters or so down the street.

She internally groans when she reads through the lines of Alex's brisk side-smirk and behavior to realize the blonde had, in fact, also preferred the coffee cart and knew Casey was going to try to jab in like that- but Novak doesn't change her decision, nor does that realization add to any sort of negative emotion. The fire-monster in her heart growled a soft, "well played," before creeping back into a crevice in her ribcage.

They walk in an odd silence, Alex's hand on Casey's back never relenting despite her now willingness to follow the older woman's direction. Casey doesn't want to admit to herself how she's started easing into the touch.

She misses it just slightly when Alex finally does let her hand slide back to her own side as they approach the coffee cart salesman, but she focuses on reading and contemplating the menu, reaching for her purse before being rewarded with the feeling of Alex's finger brushing her wrist in a way that firmly dismissed the assumption Cabot was going to allow Casey to pay for herself. She raises her eyes in mild surprise, only to find Alex already looking at her, eyes showing a degree of knowingness that makes Casey's insides turn with mild discomfort. In an effort to resolve that, she resigns to allow Alex to cover her.

"I'll have an iced caffé mocha, please," Alex starts, then turning to Casey, who after a blank pause finishes with "and I'll take a cappuccino."

After Alex finds her wallet with a significant lack of fumbling that makes Casey again irritated at her inability to have the most basic human struggles, and after the salesman hands over two paper cups, Casey spins on her heel and begins back towards the DA's office.

"Iced coffee? Really? We live in New York, Alex, it's freezing already." She critiques, although more so simply because it's the only thing she can formulate to say. She finds that she doesn't regret starting with that, though, as Alex wrinkles the tip of her refined nose playfully.

"God knows with our job I need the sugar," Cabot takes a sip, then gestures at the steam rising from the mouthpiece of Casey's coffee's lid, "and I don't have the patience to wait for my coffee to cool enough for me to drink it."

Casey snorts. "You? Without patience? And I just sacrifice my throat."

With that, she takes a defiant sip, soothed in an odd way by the feeling of the too-hot coffee in her throat, although as she was already aware of from the feeling of it in her palm it wasn't really *that* hot. Alex responds with a furrowed brow.

"I'm- I'm not quite sure you should do that, Casey."

"I'm not sure you're in a position to question what I do, Cabot," she snarked, riled up again, before catching herself with a huff and then a slightly shameful, "Sorry."

"It's okay-" Alex starts, and then immediately echoes at Casey's scoff, "no, seriously, it's okay. I snapped at you when I was literally your client, back when you prosecuted my case- remember? So I'll let that one go now. And besides, I do sometimes question what you do, so that's not unfair regardless."

Casey turns her head briskly, an indignant almost-glare of confusion on her face, which Alex responds to with a puff of air that almost sounds like a giggle.

"Not in the way you're thinking, Casey."

The younger woman pauses in her steps, and Alex looks up in mild surprise to realize they've already reached the DA's office. A twinge of fear signals in her heart at Casey's silence, especially because the woman is facing straight and thus Alex could not read her expression, but then Novak briskly says,

"Well, lucky for you, you actually have started a discussion I want to continue. So as per your previous suggestions, we can take this to my office if that-" she turns, and Alex is met with an unreadable expression that doesn't exactly soothe her nerves yet replaces said anxiety with the momentary stun that comes from meeting the eyes of someone beautiful, "is still acceptable with you."

Alex takes an extra millisecond to respond which causes a small crease to appear between Casey's eyebrows, but when she hears the older woman's, "gladly", she visibly relaxes and continues on her path.

They remain in silence, Alex allowing Casey to pave the way ahead of her despite knowing where her office was, until the door had clicked behind both attorneys and Casey was seated on the couch in her office with Alex perched across from her, mirroring the way they had composed themselves years ago when Casey was preparing Alex for trial.

"You said you question me," Casey began bluntly, prodding, "what did you mean by that?"

The younger attorney leans forward, elbow on her knee, short of entering Alex's space but enough that Alex's spine leans automatically backwards.

Alex clears her throat, rather enjoying the way Casey approached the given situation like a courtroom exchange, crossing one lithe leg over the other. Casey pretends like she didn't trace the motion over in her mind, keeping her eyes schooled on Alex's face.

"When you hear about the details of a case, your eyes light up. And I don't mean in the normal expression of, say, 'her eyes lit up in excitement', but your eyes look like a spark ignite behind them and it doesn't go away until you hear that guilty verdict."

"Alright, smooth-talker, that doesn't answer my question-"

"And I question that," Alex cuts in with a tilt of her head, "in the sense that I question how one can be that driven."

With that, the dynamic is suddenly shifted, Alex leaning forward intently while Casey, who is momentarily caught off guard, leans in the opposite direction, her back pressed against the couch, sharp eyes studying Alex's face.

"You sink your teeth into every case you prosecute like a lioness holding out for her own and there's something gorgeous about watching you pace in that courtroom landing blow after blow, until the jury is so sure of your own authenticity it makes every defense counsel seem subpar." Alex continues seamlessly, encouraged by the faintest flush on Casey's cheekbones.

Cabot lets out a sigh, then, "When I go out with the detectives to celebrate a case, I see something similar in their faces- that sort of fierceness, that... that fire. And if I'm honest, I.. I just don't relate."

Casey blinks blankly at her, and Alex shakes her head with a twitched eyebrow. "I'm driven to succeed, obviously. I'm not selling myself short, I really will do everything possible to ensure justice is served. But we're not only prosecutors, we also need to be politicians, and I know that especially because of my uncle being a judge- I ended up working in SVU as a strategic decision. I learned to love working here, to get invested on a deeper level that matters, but... somehow, in maintaining all of that in my head, I just- that personal enrapture with each case you have, I wish I had that. I question that- how you have that, when I can't. I think it makes you an exceptional prosecutor."

The younger ADA's jaw opened as if to respond, but then she bit down on empty air, eyes narrowing as she processed Alex's almost random confession.

"And, to my understanding," Alex started again, "in the beginning, you didn't even want this job. And yet you devour every hardship you encounter now regardless. So I watch you, what you do, how you approach things, and I question that, because I really want to understand."

They sit in silence for a short moment, Casey's eyes so harsh that anyone else would prickle, uncomfortable with the examination, but Alex barely shifts, still leaning forward.

"Jesus, Alex." Casey huffs, finally. "Here I was, jealous as hell of your ability to seem so... unfazed. Nonchalant, even."

Alex offers a small, apologetic smile. "Unfortunately that couldn't be further from the truth. I am very chalant- well, not as much as you, but I wish that I was. That I could be. Lose myself in the case and forget all about the facade."

"The fact that you don't," Novak murmurs, "is what makes you so admirable to me, though." Casey bites the corner of her lip, her eyes dropping to somewhere near Alex's knee, although it's obvious she's neglecting her sense of sight to focus on the mental weight of the conversation. Her voice, normally either curt or rough, sounds like a low hum that Alex decides she wouldn't mind hearing a lot more of.

Casey has the odd urge to divulge her struggles now onto Alex. Tell her about the constant comparison between them she had been faced with, tell her about the way exactly what Alex found interesting in her was what made her be known as a liability or a hazard, whine and ramble and lay herself bare. The last of the indulgent flames flickered to an end as she eased, the air she breathed out heavier as she felt tension leave her spine.

She doesn't really want to verbalize all that, though. And thankfully she doesn't have too, because stupidly attractive Alex Cabot is so perceptive that it's apparent to Casey the older woman had sensed not only the original stress but also the release of it, and Alex's demeanour shifted just slightly to reveal her own satisfaction with eliciting such a reaction from her compliments alone. It's enough, for Casey, though, to know now that perhaps her own scrutinizing comparisons may be more self critical than necessary- or, at least, that Alex seems to believe in her.

They sit there, in silence, for a bit longer than they could ever explain to anyone else, Casey still staring blankly off into space but in the direction of Alex while the latter woman stares very bluntly at Casey.

"So, the next time you get all fired up," Alex says slowly, watching Casey's eyes as they faze back into focus, "I hope you know that's something I appreciate about you. And if you wish, you can come find me, and we'll get coffee again."

"I'll pay, next time," Casey says hurriedly, glancing towards the coffee cups that had been more or less completely forgotten about on her side table. She hesitates, squinting as she tries to figure out which one of them had contained her's.

Alex picks up on the confusion and then becomes similarly conflicted on the coffee cup ownership, tentatively picking up the one closest to her and taking a sip before quickly shaking her head and putting it back down. "Sorry- the cup felt cold, so I thought it was mine. This one's yours, it must have just cooled while we were talking."

She slides it on the table towards Casey, who accepts it, taking a swig. Alex is right- her's had cooled down till it was room temperature, while Alex's had warmed up to meet it.

"You did that." Casey says softly, almost accusingly, using the coffee as an allegory for herself that Alex apparently does not understand based on the furrowed brow she got in response.

Novak waves her hand vaguely, and Alex shrugs to herself, choosing to resign herself from the confusion and instead internally celebrate the fact Casey had just agreed on a 'next time'.

"I've got arraignment, soon," Alex breathed, although something in her itched to stay just the slightest bit longer, to watch Casey's features for just an extra couple seconds, "but I'm glad we had this talk."

"It's given me a lot to think about," Casey responded smoothly, standing with a nod to herself. "Alex... thank you."

A small hint of rosy color graced Alex's smooth skin, and she smiled warmly in a way Casey would have previously doubted she was capable of. The older woman followed Casey to her feet, her hand finding Casey's shoulder again briefly as a goodbye, before Alex nodded kindly and turned to disappear out into the world once more, collecting her coffee cup before she left.

Casey watched her leave, green eyes studying her lithe figure for as long as possible before she really did vanish entirely.

In the back of her mind, she vaguely hoped that this arrangement would continue 'till the summer, because she could bet the cold breeze she had come to associate with Alex Cabot would feel wonderful in warmer weather.

And for now, apparently, she could count on her gorgeous coworker to warm up her day's experience with coffee.

[wily-one24]

I am intrigued by your liking Casey more. So character break down for her to, if you want.

Okay, but like... I did SAY I understood it was unpopular opinion. I know everyone loves Alex. And I like her too.

I can't explain why, I just... I really liked Casey. More so than Alex.

Why do I like salty chips more than sweet chocolate?

I'm just made that way, I guess. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

CASEY NOVAK:

--> How I feel about this character:

Casey was just fun. Like, c'mon, she was balls to the wall insane. From the get go. She had life, she had fire, she didn't give a shit, she played baseball with Elliot and joked with them all, she wanted to get a judge disbarred/arrested, she went to a judge's private home during his poker game and threatened to stay there all night untess he signed her warrant, she took on the entire US army, she got violently assaulted and came back to work the next day expecting to remain on the case and was OFFENDED when they took her off.

Think about all the shit Olivia saw/did/put up with when it came to Elliot, and then look up at that gif, THAT is where Olivia is all "Girl, you're pushing it". When OLIVIA BENSON is holding you back from getting justice, you know you've obliterated a line or two.

But she was also vulnerable and emotional. She cried over little girls in coolers and questioned whether she could remain in SVU, she mourned the boy who committed suicide, she pled out the daughter of the drunken mother because it made Olivia sad. She was scared when she woke up in the hospital. She felt regret over her ex-boyfriend with a mental illness because she had to prioritise herself and he lost control.

She was human.

In a way that, unfortunately, Alex was not able to be, because Alex was created in the year 2000 when police procedural women had to be "professional" and less "emotional". Alex had a very strong hold on her emotions (though they came out on occasion).

Casey? Casey had a hold on ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. And I enjoyed it.

--> All the people I ship romantically with this character:

I don't really ship Casey with anyone. She's a friend. I'd go out drinking with her. But I'm not gonna think about her sex life that much.

--> My non-romantic OTP for this character:

I'm really sitting on the fence here with this ask. I don't know? Like, she got on really well with Olivia and Elliot...

--> My unpopular opinion about this character:

Apart from the one already mentioned?

Is there really that much to opine about Casey? She did her job well (a litte/lot crazy, but she did it). She got results. She had really good chemistry with the entire team.

Perhaps my unpopular opinion is that I would have liked her to either stay or return. Which is a difficult ask, because I also loved Barba.

--> One thing I wish would happen/had happened with this character:

I would love to see Casey return.

If they could ever make up their minds if she was disbarred or not. One episode she is, then she returns to say she was only censured, and then the next time she's referred to, she's been disbarred again.

I mean, knowing Casey, it's also possible she was disbarred for a completely different reason that happened later.

[ocstabler]

Law & Order SVU S1E4: Hysteria

Work Life: A prostitute is found dead with a bag over her face.

Work Relations: A cop (D'Angelo) asks a crime scene photographer to get two sets of pictures he's taking of a dead prostitute for the bulletin board and Stabler scolds him. The cop refers to the victim as a NHI meaning No Human Involved. Both Benson and Stabler are unhappy with his attitude.

Olivia comments on Elliot being in a bad mood and he says he got no sleep & informs her of Kathleen's pregnant friend. Olivia encourages Elliot to talk to Kathleen. Elliot intends to call Vice to pick up one on the prostitutes because he doubts she's of legal age. Olivia asks him not to because they promised they wouldn't but he counters that 'she's a baby'. Elliot and Olivia run into D'Angelo again as they ask if he knows where a certain prostitute might be. He's unhelpful and then asks if they're late for a sensitivity class. Cassidy and Munch mock Elliot for getting slapped by the mother of the victim. When Olivia and Jeffries talk about how the victim as dressed, Elliot says he'd never let his daughters out dressed how she was and Olivia tells him 'just wait' and he asks 'what does that mean?'.

Family Life: The episode starts with the Stabler family having dinner. Maureen tries to convince her parents to let her get a piercing but Kathy says no and Elliot backs her up.

Kathleen tells her parents her friend quit school because she's pregnant. Kathleen then leaves the table, upset. At 3am, we see Kathy and Elliot together in bed, but only Kathy is asleep. The phone rings and Elliot answers straight away. The call is on the landline rather than his mobile. Olivia says that Kathleen is 12.

Olivia pushes Elliot to talk to Kathleen and reminds him of the damage it can do if they leave it too long. He does explain that she freaked out when they tried. Elliot has a alarm set to go home and do soccer practice with Kathleen. Olivia tells him to tell her to aggressively protect the goal. During his talk with Kathleen, she tells him that she's a virgin.

Trauma: Elliot is pretty upset about Kathleen's 14 year old friend who is pregnant and the consequences it might have on his daughter but besides from a sleepless night and a little bit grumpy the next day, he copes pretty well with everything.

Anger Issues: Pretty calm, considering he has some family issues on his mind and is lacking sleep.

Stability: 10/10. Even with the Kathleen drama, he's solid.

Flirty behaviour: None.

Damage Control: Elliot is slapped by the mother of the victim when he says that they believed their daughter was a prostitute.

Anything else: When Kathy and Elliot are together in bed he is on the right side of the bed, and she sleeps on the left.

When Elliot finishes his shift but Olivia stays, he tells her he's taking the egg roll as he leaves.

[vivaciousoceans]

The worst thing I can think of is poor Noah having to be (partially) raised by the bald-headed cop. Even just having him in close proximity. Like please, Noah Benson doesn’t deserve that!

No same. I’m a Noah stan, I do love the kid, and I think he’s underutilized actually, but that’s neither here nor there. Elliot Stabler is still that anger issues having cop he always was, and Noah has no frame of reference for that kind of man. Noah hasn’t spent the last 10 years being raised by an angry man, there hasn’t been an angry man in his house. Olivia allowing Stabler to step into that fatherhood role will be putting an angry man in Noah’s house for the rest of his life.

“if you're raised with an angry man in your house, there will always be an angry man in your house. you will find him even when he is not there.” - Catherine Lacey

[theshelteredbrat]

intro post!

hi I'm charlie:) but I'm good with brat or whatever.

My pronouns are they/them i think...

My parents are homophobic and transphobic. So if you know (somehow) who i am plz don't out me.

I am a minor, don't be weird

I have many tumblr mothers, siblings, and children, but I'd always love some more!

I have fantastic moots, too many to list (love yall)

I'm a biromantic asexual(?)

I probably have a mental illness or depression or smth.

I like the Magnus Archives, Marvel, Keeper of the Lost Cities, the Song of Achilles, Conan Gray, AURORA, Hozier, Girl in Red, Cavetown, Chappel Roan, Olivia Rodrigo, Benson Boone, Mother Mother, Star Wars, anything Holmes related (like Sherlock holmes or enola holmes. I haven't seen the Sherlock shows or movies yet, but I have read the og books), purple, some greens, some blues, flowers in the not feminine way, the Iliad, the Odyssey, legos, dragons, dinosaurs (im not too educated but I think they're neat), art (I suck at art but I'm working on it), music, henna(I'm ok at this), i js started Welcome to Nightvale, and probably a lot of other things I forgot about

Also my notes think that I'm trying to get myself to do

Things/people I dislike (also a dni)

Terfs, anyone who hates the lgbtqia+ community, anyone who uses slurs when referring to others, people who force me to do things, most dresses, cybertrucks, racists, homophobes, body shamers, people who are js mean and rude in general, people who think genocide is okay, people who judge cross dressing unless its your own, people who dislike others depending on their religion(why tf does that matter?), and people who think they won't get along with me bc of the things I stand for

Please give me asks!!! I love them.

Warning there's no telling how much ill be online. Sometimes I'll only check once every day or so and other times I'll be on here forever.

Rest in power Leelah Alcorn, Zander Mahaffey, and Nex Benedict.

[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.

[foxes-that-run]

Can you confirm Benjamin Button was a gift from Harry?

Hi, Taylor adopted Benji on the set or Me! there’s a special BTS just for him.

However, his role/scene is a reference to internet speculation which Taylor has acknowledged that Olivia was a gift from Harry.

Olivia Benson Swift(-Styles?)

Olivia was adopted on 18 June 2014. Harry and Taylor had started dating again after the red backstage haircut, writing Style around Valentine’s Day 2014 and the anatomical heart tattoo. The date is a potential anniversary:

15 June 2011 Taylor had temper trap arm lyrics in St Paul, 1D in America, Harry MIA and on the 17 June she wrote she was blissfully happy in the lover journal.

16 June 2012 Harry got lyrics from the same temper trap song tattooed on that anniversary.

18 June 2014 Taylor adopted Olivia wearing pink. model Steph Smith was there, posted to IG and started following both Harry and Taylor. Harry MIA but seen in Europe the day before and after.

What led to speculation that Olivia was a gift was that Harry can be heard laughing in the first video Taylor posted of Olivia a week later. This TikTok has Harry laughing and this laugh. Harry’s sister Gemma liked this post and later named her own cat Olivia also.

Olivia is a Scottish fold so it’s unlikely she was able to be adopted same day, my guess is the “first roar” where Taylor wears black, Harry laughs and Olivia looks slightly smaller was before she was picked up where Taylor wore pink. That tracks with clothes and how purebred cat adoptions work, famous people probably have options but kittens new all the time “first roar” means first met. This first roar video is still in Taylor’s instagram stories under “Ladies and Benji”

Harry also wrote Olivia the same year and famously said “Is Olivia even a person or is Olivia an emotion” Olivia being something that sounds like “I love ya”, a response to Say don’t go’s “I said I love you and you say nothing back.

Tumblr went with it which Taylor was aware of as keen user of Tumblr then and she has hinted of Harry as Olivia’s dad on the Reputation tabloid, in the End Game video (black/rep cat rather than Olivia) when she sings she doesn’t want to be just another ex-live you don’t wanna see.

And it was seemingly confirmed in the me! When Brendan presents Benji as a gift while Taylor wears a pink dress

(Side note on the Me Video: Brendan wore Harry’s Live on Tour Suits throughout, she called Olivia and Meredith young daughters (in French, Harry was dating Camille) and the paint at the end match’s the unreleased Two Ghosts video)

And finally on his birthday hits from the streets called Harry a cat daddy in 2019, the year Me! Came out. Well he is a Cat daddy in a double meaning, 🍉 and also Olivia’s real father.

[dannygpino]

There's something I don't understand, many people refer to Nick as Rollins' partner, but he was mostly Liv's partner/she was his first partner. And not many acknowledge that fact.

That's very true.

Their partnership was so fascinating because they butted heads, got into arguments, called each other out in not really constructive ways, but they still had each other's backs. I'm mainly thinking about "Manhattan Vigil" when things were clearly icy between them but when they found Hector's body, they reached for each other's hands.

They obviously were able to work past their differences and become strong partners. They had to open up to each other; her because she was mourning Elliot when Nick arrived and he because he had lone wolf syndrome and was used to being on his own. Of course, they may have disagreed but they still respected and heard each other. They made good partners. They had a close relationship.

Kind of unrelated, I will always love that Cragen said "Find him" to Nick in "Surrender Benson". Of course, the entire squad was going to look for Olivia but I'm sure Nick felt an extra responsibility because she was his partner. He had to look out for her and have her back more than anyone. Cragen knew that. Cragen knew his detectives.

I do hope they reconcile on screen at some point, lol. She called and left a voicemail apologizing but we didn't see his response. Olivia's bridge with Barba is burned, which is another story, but it isn't with Nick. Danny has left the possibility of returning again open. I hope he does. "Hotel Cocaine" just ended, he can do it.

Also, you know what else could happen if Nick did come back?

[hocuspocusbabyy]

‘Never enough’ Part 1?- Alex Cabot x Olivia Benson.

“Young Alex and Olivia, the first time Alex left.”

Olivia sat on the edge of vanquish, her body bent across her knees, clutching upon the flesh of her thighs. The burning sensation of her nails grating into her skin, the only grounding factor.

The day had been relentless, every moment had felt as though she were grappling for breath.

Cragan had been insistent on the entire squad attending the benefit, all the different branches joining them, in celebration of the year ahead.

Olivia adored her team however the constant questions and what felt like childminding had left her mind with little space to spare. This followed by a bombardment of press at the door, constant poking and interaction with members of the general public and later what by Fin referred to as ‘Small gathering’, complete with the attendance of every eligible bachelor in the northern hemisphere. Olivia was well and truly spent.

She was glad to have booked a room at the hotel.

Cabot’s presence throughout the day had only plagued her more.

Alex was to leave for Africa in late February, duration unknown to work with Doctors Without Borders providing legal aid to those in need under Liz Donnelly’s guidance and coin. Apparently the philanthropic expeditions have been written directly in Alex's contract upon arrival at the SU almost three years ago.

Though it was less about her departure or the fact she couldn’t breathe in this fucking dress (Kathy) but rather…

How she had embodied the doting debutant, perfectly put together and oh so reliably plain in her encounters- her future employers had been glutinous with her attention. Few and far glances offered in the other woman’s direction.

It wasn’t merely the way one Ms Cabot walked, talked or played but rather a plethora of abundance. How she moved, calculated, buoyant yet undetermined with clumsy, ill timed head turns, missteps and discrepancies only Olivia would care to notice. Only watching with care would reveal such truths. The curve of her lip as she concentrates on her pen. How her voice lifts at the slightest hint of muddling, the panic that shifts within her. Dear in headlights, moths on flames and waves at shore would fall short in comparison to such a striking resemblance of humility. How anything more could reside within Olivia’s mind when Alex Cabot existed was far beyond even her.

The blonde had unfortunately, irrevocably made an impact on her in the back 900 or so days. Not that she was counting, not in that direction at least.

The faint thrum of the grandfather clock wreaked havoc upon her nerves. The pores of flesh subsided as her hairs stood on edge. Silently wagering, in the most agonisingly pathetic way that her thoughts and Alex’s were one in the same. Light footsteps approached the door, a tall shadow cast upon the ground dimming the mist of Olivia’s memory. Alex across the bar, in the garden, below the chandelier as variations and lighting masterful upon her flesh.

Olivia half hoped the other woman would just keep walking, to be spared of their audience for one evening. The other yearned to her, pandering to every motion as the brass door handle twisted beneath her touch.

What was the point in having paid for two rooms?

The hinge screeched as the lawyer’s form slowly grew, clouding the room, insisting error upon her judgment. Olivia’s head rose to greet her. Watching as the blonde worked to unhook the heavy strand of pearls from around her neck, stretching either side as they fell upon the entry table. Directly beside the perfume she had opted for this evening.

Alex turned towards Olivia .

The greeting expression is all the more disappointing, her usually hubristic posture replaced by one riddled with defeat. A tight-lipped grimace, and nod as she took a seat beside the brunette. Their thighs pressed together, arms brushing in the same familiar, repetitive fashion.

A tension looms across them, traditional and warm, the essence of themselves rolling together. The day's weight heavy upon the room as Alex reached to run her pale hands through the back of her hair - a nervous habit. Deft fingers tugging at short strands of gold that escaped her elaborate do.

“Turn around.” Olivia whispered after a moment, the blonde merely gazing over her shoulder as a brief moment of communication. The brunette's thumbs swiped across the span of her shoulders as she faced away. Nimble, talented digits gently pulling pins from the nest of creation. Swirling soft spools of hair between her fingers, scratching lightly at the other woman’s scalp - taking solace in the sight tilt of Alex’s head against her palm. Her cheek turned to kiss at the calloused flesh.

“We were careless today.” Alex says causticly a prolonged breath followed as Olivia’s free hand reached up to work against her scalp also. The blonde's stance visibly weakened at the attention. “Liz is growing suspicious, there are only so many excuses, I can’t keep pushing back my departure date.”

“I am aware; though it is hardly anything we haven’t gotten away with before.” Olivia whispers as Alex scoffs. Her hand reached to pull the other woman’s away, yet she did not move. Simply grasping the hands around her, settling them upon her clavicles and leaning back against the brunette.

“And if there is no resolution? If I am to stay we cannot be together, if I leave I am gone. How is that fair?” She replied, Olivia’s chin falling to rest against her shoulder. Their cheeks pressed flush together.

“Life’s often unfair, Ace.” Olivia shrugged, the numbing sensation of trepidation aged within her chest suddenly revived as she lent to kiss the blondes cheek. Her mouth moved gently against her flesh as they spoke.

“I knew this was a mistake.” Alex vows quietly, her hands stroking across the metatarsals that lay at her chest.

“What was a mistake?” Olivia asked her tone suddenly defensive, rigid her arms reaching to squeeze the other woman closer. Kissing at the shell of her ear.

“Allowing ourselves to corrupt one another.” The blonde says, clenching her jaw; the flesh bobbling as the brunette draws her nose across it.

“Corruption?” Olivia deadpanned, pulling back from the blonde. Line of hair still present upon her skin as Alex refused to back away, merely turning towards her. Shapely shoulder flat against the brunette's chest. Shallow breaths warm and soothing as they spoke.

“You cloud my judgement.” Alex whispers , her eyes focused upon the other woman as her hand rose to cup her face. “You taint my thoughts. This is all I’ve ever wanted, all I’ve ever worked for and now? How am I to leave when my every notion is in ode of you?”

Olivia fights the urge to roll her eyes, yet couldn’t help the welcoming feeling that set ground in her chest. She reached forward gently working to unclamp the blonde’s earrings.

“I cannot speak for you sweetheart, I can only translate what I am offered.”

Alex pouts lightly, her thumb brushing bruising paths across the underside of Olivia’s eye. As though raffling through a cabinet, unable to find exactly what she was looking for. Tears pooled along the blonde’s waterline, stunningly blue orbs suddenly stirred.

“I cannot continue to threaten my reputation like this, nor yours.” Her voice faltered, underlined with every syllable. A gross expression of displeasure set upon Olivia’s face.

A quaintness consumes them, unease flooding the room as Olivia escapes the blonde's attention. Standing to pace before the bed.

Alex’s head fell dejected, her breath dropping as though marbles upon sand, Shells at low tide, stuck and buried beneath the weight of the world.

Olivia reached back to tackle the ties of her gown, a sordid attempt to maintain any semblance of composure, lunging, clawing back to remove the garment. She would not share this moment of discomfort, if Alex wanted to leave her…had to leave her, she’d have to leave every ounce of her behind and Olivia had to prove it.

“You—“ Olivia gasped tugging harshly at a particularly stubborn area of lace, “You speak as though you never entertained us. As though you did not make excuses to see me at the precinct, you wash your hands of me, is that it?”Olivia avers heavily, sighing as she gave up on the clothing and simply perched her hand at her waist before laughing slightly. The other reached to press its palm against her sore eyes. “God how could I have been so stupid.”

Alex Shook her head reaching and hand towards the brunette, becoming her forward. Olivia begrudgingly reached out, turned at her command and faced away. Artisanal hands working their way across the corset till it fell away from the other woman’s chest. Simple and rehearsed - revised. It wasn’t till those same hands turned to run along the brunette's waist, pulling her hips back towards her knees. Olivia struggled to control her gasp at their spreading across the span of her exposed ribs. Lulling her into the false sense of entrapment she had so gladly fell for.

Olivia wanted nothing more than to be ensnared by her. Though her bones grew tired of shortcomings. Yet something in her knew whatever it was they felt towards one another, it was one and the same. No matter how it was enforced, communicated, regardless of the outcome. Alex andOlivia shared a thread from the cloth of existence.

The blonde's head fell, pressed into her back.

The gentle tweak of her nipple, forcing Olivia to step away. As though a flower opening. The blush coursed over her chest. Alex Whispered “A part of me is to always be tainted by you.”

“The feeling is mutual” Olivia says flippantly, her voice louder and miles more incensed as Alex rose to reach her. Pulling the other woman flush to her chest, the ruffled material scratching against her exposed skin. Her hands encapsulating, clutching at the brunette.

“What are you thinking?” The blonde whispered her nails scraping at the alpine of Olivia’s collar bone. Thumb dipping into the junction of her throat, pressing gently as her palm spread to grasp her neck. Pushing her head back against her own.

“What a shame expiration is.” Olivia gasped at the feeling, Alex’s teeth flat against her jaw. “How easily life is left unlived”

“Some things last.”

“This is volatile.” Olivia stated, turning within the blonde's arms, raising her own to hold her as she whispered, holding her cheek, shaking fingers brushing across her lips. “My only hope for you is that you did not live to regret this Ace. I would despise that to happen.” The brunette faulted, her eyes wet as she looked up at the other woman, a path within her so achingly forward as she urged to pressed her lips together. Alex’s knees weakened at her words, resolve disatered at the benign tone. Nobody had ever cared to be as clement with her, demure and forbearing. “If you are to leave, then leave, so I may start my mourning.”

The frown Alex wears resembles that of an apology, tears stifled as she pressed her forehead against the brunettes. “I fear that I am in love with you.” She admits slowly. Their breaths conjoined and telling upon one another - uneasy and amicable.

“What a burden.” Olivia says with a short laugh, closing her eyes and huffing at the sheer impiety of those words.

“Never.” Alex deadpanned, an iced look gracing her features as to prove a point as her lips pressed up against the other woman’s. Seeking passage to the grave on which they both stood. “Knowing is all the more frightful, I have escaped this long enough.” Alex begged her tongue soothing ballads upon Olivia’s lips.

“I have known of you since the very moment of existence Alex, you have never been lost upon me. There is no question in how I feel about you, yet you continue to examine me. Where is the fondness in that?” The brunette barked her teeth suddenly planted upon the other woman’s delicate flesh - tugging her lip between her own. “I will not ask you to stay, that is not my right. I wouldn’t hold you back in such a way.”

“You hold the part of me which can express such things, it is a sickness I do not wish to be returned. Take these moments and store them for me, I cannot carry them as I go.” Alex cried out the coppery flavour welcomed and grounding as they spoke.

“You cannot ask me of such things, decorate me as a house to which you never lived? That you will never return to? What home is that?” The tears ran across the span of the brunette's cheek, trickling down her neck till the blonde bent to follow them. Lapping at the heated flesh of a love she could never truly claim.

“The only one we could afford.” Alex whispered upon her veins, the thrum of her pulse against her tongue the only signs of life she cared for. They knew it wouldn’t last when they started, that one would eventually leave, walk away. Though knowing is not as comforting as one would think, as comes the finish line.

“There are no sorrows left, the walls are painted with them.”

“Then pull up the floorboards and let the light sink in.”

“It will be awfully cold without you.”

“Summer will come, as every season does - I cannot think of a moment in time that has not agreed with you.”

“Except for tonight?”

“Except for tomorrow.” Alex corrected walking backwards until the pair fell upon the bed. Clinging to one another in the same way flames still lingered upon charcoal.

“I will surely rot without you.” Olivia whispered, her half dressed body curled into every inch of the other woman’s existence.

“I do not believe you have the ability to decay my love. All that is good of me rests within you.”

“Alexandra I love you.” The brunette whispered her face pressed against the other woman’s neck as they simply lay together. Alex’s hand drawing upon her bare back, all the mantras that would not… could not be said. They bathed within the sacrilege, unsure of what the morning would bring.

“Baby, it is not enough.”

[kit-just-kit]

"Hey I heard you're a ..uh..sex therapist. Are you taking clients?" ( @Olivia-rbf-benson)

(Jo mun)

Anons

"I am.....was rather. I haven't taken any private clients for a while now but, I can cetainly try and help, even if it's only to refer you onto a colleague who might be better placed to assist. Why don't you come on in, take a seat? We can maybe have a coffe and chat, see how things pan out, yes?".

@captain-rbf-benson

[rahleeyah]

It frustrates me a little when people are like "anyone can draw" bc like I can't, and I can't bc a) my hands are unsteady and often do not do what my brain tells them to do (playing piano was also not for me, my hs bf (theater kid) used to put my eyeliner on for me before plays bc I would stab myself in the eye, etc) and b) I do not have good spatial reasoning and cannot seem to grasp how to construct a drawing, that is like "put a line here, and another line here, and one here, and you'll build up an image" is beyond me (bro I don't even know how far away 3d objects in the real world are I am bouncing off counters like a ping pong ball. Permanently bruised) like no!!! My brain doesn't work that way!! I do not think in clear images - when asked what my OCs look like in fic I do not have an answer unless someone else has suggested a face claim I like - and I simply cannot grasp the steps involved to craft an image with my hands. You can sit me down and try to teach me things - I've taken drawing and painting classes! I'm decent at very simple pottery. I make jewelry but almost always off reference images - and I understand general concepts like scale and perspective but putting it together myself? Nope that's where it falls apart. Don't even get me started on color theory once years and years ago when Tumblr was only on desktop and everybody was using custom themes I painstakingly built one for myself and someone came on anon and told me it looked like the Easter bunny threw up on my blog and my gf at the time, who had my Tumblr password for Reasons, got on my blog in the middle of the night while I was sleeping to rebuild it so it didn't look so heinous (for which I was very grateful) like!! I've gotten handwriting books and I can't even trace the damn letters. Visual art is not my wheelhouse and no amount of theory is going to change the fundamental way in which my brain works and I'm fine with that, actually, bc we cannot all be good at every single thing, that's just not how it works, and I like the things I'm good at and even occasionally play around with the things I'm not (painting, extremely ugly but earnest bullet journaling) bc it's fun but I am under no illusion that what I'll make will be like. Good. And I don't push myself to try to draw bc I know how it'll go, I'm grown enough to recognize my limitations, however. If I had even just an ounce more visual capability, if my hands just did what I told them to, I would try. And when I developed my skill enough to share it with other people, I would be posting drawings of Olivia Benson's titties every day of the week.

[sassyfrassboss]

Well could be that Olivia Benson could be a MentalMeg type character, who knows, but if she been meddles quarter of what MM did & does, I really reallyyy hope that Grosvenor divorces her! They all have a live glorious example of Meghan in how not to let your spouse degrade you & destroy your family connections. They would be COMPLETE fools to not use this as a warning.

I don’t actually know if MM truly does believe she’s better than C, or that’s just what she wants & wants everyone else also to believe b/c her Narc ego cannot take being seen ‘less than.’ I mean b/c no-one (besides the SS) has ever believed that MM is better than PoW, Catherine, in ANY WAY. 🤣🤣

It also really gets my goat that MM always refers to C as “Kate.”

Her referring to Catherine as "Kate" when everyone else calls Catherine "Catherine" is just Meghan's way of condescension.

[agent-troi]

olivia benson reference on only murders in the building!!

[mistandshcdow]

the law and order svu cast except it’s how i refer to them in my head:

olivia benson (questionable icon)

psycho stabler

ICE TEAAAAA

munch munch munch 😋

gay psychologist (does nothing gay ever)

captain crunch

ADA of the week

sexy mortician