#and then they aired the new season and I saw rollins and carisi together and I was like. what. when did this happen. how.

[boyapologist]

my goooooood I hate hate hate 5 am flights

[therandomfics]

All’s Well - 4

The emptiness that you found with your newly vacant apartment was more suffocating than it was freeing. With no one to report to - for lack of a better term - you found yourself staying up later but waking up earlier, and surviving on dinners of frozen vegetables that you ate directly from their steamable pouch. You kept the television on at all hours to fill the void of silence that had begun encroaching on your comfort and slept with the lights on in the bedroom as well. You never truly realized just how much you needed Sonny in your life to feel safe, and you were beginning to feel like an asshole for not cherishing his presence.

Co-workers and family members expressed their concerns, but you felt it was more of an attempt at prying into your life than it was an actual offering of sympathy. Everyone hinted around at not understanding why such a beautiful, happy couple could just split up so suddenly. Was he cheating? Did he hurt you? What was it?

And how, you wondered, could you answer that without screaming? “My husband and I are no longer together because he stopped finding me attractive. He stopped touching me. He stopped loving me. He stopped making me feel beautiful and wanted. He stopped responding to my touch.” Surely that was exactly what everyone wanted to hear, and that was exactly how the rumor mill started hiring on seasonal help.

As you stared into the freezer, mulling over the ice trays, the half-eaten containers of ice cream, and the absolute lack of nutrition, you grumbled to yourself and slammed the door shut. The blast of icy air struck you and made you shiver despite the heat that was radiating from the kitchen window. You could either order take out or go shopping for long term solutions, and while you were usually one for a quick fix, tonight was begging for a chance to get out of the apartment and get some fresh air.

Bruno’s Market was a few blocks away and always had the best selection of vegetables and fruits, so you locked the apartment and set off. Sonny had bought you a heap of reusable bags after he caught you crying over a wildlife commercial one night, telling you that you were doing your part to save the environment, doll. Oh, how you missed hearing him call you doll, or beautiful, or anything really. You missed his voice. You missed him.

Down aisle 4 you pondered the different recipes you could make with the varieties of pastas and sauces they had for sale. Sonny Carisi would have scolded premade sauce, but Sonny wasn’t there to make you his famous pesto or his life changing Alfredo. You were on your own, you had to keep telling yourself. A few boxes of bowties and a few jars of sauce later, you were on the way back to the meat wall for some kind of protein, set on finding something to make immediately when you got home. Your stomach growled and made your cheeks glow red despite the hustle and bustle that drowned out even your footsteps.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called your name, prompting you to turn around.

Amanda Rollins stood with her two children in front of you, a smile could only be described as indifferent on her lips.

“Oh, hey Amanda. How are you?” you questioned, offering a smile to the two small girls took up the space around their mother.

She shrugged gently. “I could ask you that same thing.”

“Ha. Yeah, I guess you could. Well, I -”

“Just one question, Y/N. Why would you throw away something - someone - as perfect as Sonny? You know he’s been the best uncle to these girls and he’s been there for you through some really aw-”

You held your hand up to silence Amanda. “I’m sure Sonny is thankful for your concern and I am thankful that he has friends he can confide in during this difficult time that we’re going through. I wish him well. Have a good night, Amanda.”

She let out a low chuckle. “I’ll let him know when I get home.”

You pivoted on your heel, torn between leaving the conversation and facing Amanda again. “New roommate?”

She flashed a smile and pushed her cart past you, turning the corner and leaving your view.

With a scowl, you set your basket down and headed for the front of the store with a purpose - to get the fuck out of that store if it was the last thing you did. The mugginess slapped your skin the moment you stepped out onto the street and you fumbled with your crossbody purse until you found your phone, unlocked it and selected Sonny’s name.

It rang once.

“Hello?”

“Was it her all along?” you demanded, one shaking breathless voice exposing your misery.

He sighed. You could hear him out on the street somewhere, maybe still at work. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“I just saw Amanda at the store and she said she would tell you when she got home. So, you’re living with her? Was she the reason for all of this?”

“This isn’t the time or place to talk about this.”

“When IS the time, Sonny?”

He sighed again. You were frustrating him. “I don’t know.”

“Fuck you, Sonny. I can’t believe I wasted so much time with you,” you hissed, before you threw your phone face down onto the sidewalk. The pieces that crunched under your feet were the most satisfying thing you’d experienced in months.

[svucarisiaddict]

Could you write some general pregnant fluff for the autumn series? Cute things that sonny does like getting u the food ur craving @ 1am or going to find out the gender :)?

First trimester

Another morning. Another day with your head hanging over the toilet. You moaned after another dry heave raked your body. “Why is it called morning sickness when it lasts all day?” you mumbled to yourself.

“You okay, doll?” Sonny called from the shower.  A little too cheerful for your liking.

“Yeah. I’m great. Our unborn child is just protesting the single saltine cracker I ate,” you replied.

Sonny shut the water off and pulled back the shower curtain. “You need protein doll.” He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out on the bath mat.

“I need to stop puking 20 hours out of the day,” you replied looking up at him from where you were sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Sonny held his hand out to you which you accepted. He hauled you up from the floor. “I’ll get you some ginger ale to sip on okay? You go back to bed.”

You nodded your head as you brushed your teeth.

A few minutes later Sonny brought you a glass of ginger ale and a piece of toast with peanut butter. “Nibble and sip,” Sonny instructed.

“I’d rather nibble on you,” you responded with a smirk.

He chuckled. “I think that’s what got us here.” Sonny put his hand on your belly.

Second trimester

By the fourth month of your pregnancy, the morning sickness had passed and your appetite became voracious. Not just for food but for Sonny as well.

“You’re gonna kill me, Y/N,” Sonny panted and rolled off you. It was the third time that day the two of you made love. One of those being in the back of the car when Sonny had a quick break at work.

“Sorry, babe.” You rolled onto your side and ran a finger down Sonny’s chest. “Sonny? How much do you love me?”

“Considering its almost midnight it depends on what you want.” Sonny slid his arm under your shoulders.

“Deep fried pickles.”

Sonny sighed. “Get dressed. There’s that 24-hour diner a few blocks up the street. Might even spring for a chocolate milkshake,” Sonny said.

“Ohh…wine me and dine me, Dominick,” you purred.

“You know what it does to me when you call me that.”

Kissing up his jaw you stopped at his lips. “Remind me.”’

“What about your deep fried pickles?” Sonny asked as he ran a hand down your back.

“It’s a 24-hour diner remember?” you replied swinging your leg over Sonny to straddle his hips.

“Hey, Carisi. Today’s Y/N’s ultrasound right? You guys going to find out the gender?” Amanda asked. She passed him a coffee.

“Thanks.” He sipped from the cup he was handed and made a face. “What’s is this crude oil?” Sonny sat the cup on his desk and leaned back in his chair. “Yep. She was four months yesterday. Appointment is at 2.” A wide smile crossed his face. “Felt the baby kick for the first time the other day.”

Amanda smiled back. “It’s so good to see you happy. Stop back afterward and share the news?”

“Sure thing,” Sonny replied.

“Hello. I’m Sabrina. I’ll be performing your ultrasound today.” She smiled kindly at you and Sonny. “It’s an anatomy scan to be sure your baby is developing appropriately. Are we finding out if you’re having a boy or girl?Sonny took your hand in his. “Yes, we are,” you replied.

“Little warm gel,” she said as she squeezed the gel on your belly. “This is your first?”

“Yeah.” Your eyes were glued to the ultrasound screen.

“Nice strong heartbeat. Well developed heart and lungs,” she said. She continued to move the transducer around on your belly taking pictures and identifying body parts. “Okay. Here’s the fun part.”

You turned to Sonny. “Are you ready?”

Sonny nodded then leaned up to kiss your forehead.

“Better get stocked up on pink. It’s a girl.” She pointed to the screen.

“A little girl,” you whispered. One hand went to your mouth as tears filled your eyes. Sonny’s grip on your hand tightened. When you looked at him his eyes were glistening with tears.

“We’re having a little girl.” Sonny stood and kissed your lips. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, babe.”

Sabrina wiped the gel from your belly. “Congratulations. Here are you pictures. Now the hard part. Picking a name.” She handed the strip of pictures over to you and left the room.

“A little girl,” Sonny said in awe.

“Yeah…” you ran your finger over the ultrasound pictures.

After you and Sonny left the doctor office he called his parents who were excited to hear about their granddaughter. Sonny’s Mom cried and his Dad joked that someone needed to have a boy.

“Hey. Mind if we stop by the precinct? I kinda promised Rollins we’d stop by after the ultrasound.”

“That’s fine,” you said. “I haven’t seen Amanda since Mike’s…” you stopped and cleared your throat. “Sorry.” It had only been a couple weeks since Mike passed away after being shot.

“No. It’s okay.” He kissed your knuckles giving ya ou smile that didn’t convince you that he was okay. You didn’t push the subject, not today. Today was a happy day.

A few minutes later you and Sonny were walking into the squad room. Amand’s head perked up and she jumped from her seat. “So…” She looked expectantly between the two of you.

Sonny scratched the back of his neck. “It’s a girl!” he exclaimed putting his arms in the air. Fin clapped Sonny on the back, Amanda hugged you, then Nick gave you a kiss on the cheek.

Olivia came from her office to see about the commotion.

“Hey, Lieu! We’re havin’ a girl!” Sonny called to her.

She smiled wide giving Sonny giving him a big hug. “Congratulations, guys. I am so happy for you.”

“And Jesse will be so excited to have another little girl to play with,” Amanda piped in.

Fin clapped his hands together. “My place tonight, 7pm. I’m makin’ dinner to celebrate the new addition to the family.”

Third trimester

You sniffled again as “The arms of an angel” played while the TV showed pictures of shivering, starving animals.

“Hey. Hey. What’s goin’ on. Why are you cryin’?” Sonny looked at you then the TV. “What did we talk about huh, doll? Turn the channel when this commercial comes on.” Sonny took the remote and changed the station to the news.

“Yeah. I know. It came on. Sucked me in…” you muttered. You accepted the handkerchief that Sonny gave you. “This is not hormones either. So don’t even go there.”

Sonny held his hands up in surrender with a smirk on his face. “Wasn’t gonna say a word.” He came to sit beside on the sofa. Sonny’s hand rested on your knee and he gave it a little squeeze. “How was your day at work?”

“It sucked,” you said in a small voice. “I got moved to recovery until after I have the baby.” Sniffling you wiped your nose with Sonny’s handkerchief. “Which reminded me we don’t have a name picked out yet, the crib is still sitting in a box in the nursery along with the changing table. If our daughter is born today she’ll be nameless and have to sleep in a dresser drawer.”

“Oh. Hey. Don’t cry. C’mere.” Sonny wrapped his arms around you. “We can take care of that in one day.” Sonny stroked your hair and kissed your temple. “I have an idea for a name.”

“Yeah?”

“It came to me this morning on the way to work. Autumn. Autumn Juliet Carisi.”

Your sniffling stopped. “How’d you come up with it?”

“Well, it’s your favorite season and it’s also when we started dating. And Romeo and Juliet was the first play we saw together in the park.” He shrugged his shoulders.

You said the name a few times in your head then repeated it out loud. “It’s perfect,” you said looking up at him.

“You are so cute,” Sonny said as he watched you tug your T-shirt over belly as you sat on the couch.

You scoffed. At eight months pregnant cute was the last way you would describe yourself.

“Hardly. I can’t even see my feet and if I could I can’t reach my toes to paint them,” you replied holding up the bottle.

He pushed off the doorway discarding his jacket and tie in the chair and sat on the coffee table. “Here.” He motioned for the bottle of mauve nail polish. Sonny placed your feet in your lap then untwisted the cap.

A smile crossed your face. Sonny’s brow furrowed as he concentrated. One by one he swiped the color onto your nails. Once he was done he gently blew on the polish. “There,” Sonny said proudly beaming at you.

“I’m impressed,” you said admiring his work. “You are a man of many talents. Thanks, babe.”

Sonny jumped up quickly. “I got something today. Be right back.”

Sonny was bringing something home almost every day. It was either an outfit, toy, or random baby item that he read about or someone recommended. Sonny was already a perfect Dad and your little Autumn wasn’t even here yet. It made your heart swell. When Sonny returned to the living he had a shopping bag in his hand. The smile on Sonny’s face let you know he was excited about whatever was in the bag.

“It’s my Christening gown,” he stated as he pulled the small, white garment from the bag. “Ma brought to me when we had lunch this afternoon.”

“That is so sweet, Sonny,” you said as you fingered the cotton gown. “I was going to buy her one, cause mine is long gone. But this is much more special.” You pushed up from the couch then put your arms around his neck.

Sonny put the gown down and snaked his arms around your waist. “I can’t wait to meet our little girl.”

“Me either,” you said. “Just a couple more weeks and she’ll be in our arms.”

[hawkland]

Flower Power (Munch/Fin mini-case fic)

This was written for @svucharacterappreciation for John Munch, for “Past and Other Characters” week. It was inspired, firstly, by a comment from someone on Tumblr who thought my Munch icon there should be wearing a flower crown, and conversation that followed with @thedoctorishereguys. There’s also a bit of a tip of the hat to her story “Singing”, as far as John’s musical tastes are concerned.

It fits into the fic-verse of my Spaces In Between Series, which you can find at AO3. Rated PG for some adult language.

John hummed a cheerful song as he reveled in this fine Spring morning outdoors. He hummed instead of sang the words he knew by heart, for Caleb—wide awake in his stroller, also taking in the world surrounding him—was far too young yet to understand them.

That, and John didn’t want to get odd looks (or worse) for singing “Poisoning Pigeons in the Park” out loud…while in Fort Tryon Park, of all places. Tom Lehrer’s lyrical genius was not always well-appreciated by those not in on the joke, or lacking a sophisticated taste for satire.

So, he stuck to humming.

He’d volunteered for baby-sitting duties today to help out Ken and Alejandro, for it was as good a reason as any to get out and enjoy the change of seasons. And he wasn’t playing hooky, despite it being a weekday; he’d cut his hours at the DA’s office to only part-time since the boy’s birth last November. The job had been more to keep himself mentally occupied than anything else after retiring from SVU. But after four years as a Special Investigator, dealing with cranky ADAs and the sort of messy police paperwork he used to hand in himself, he found it more important now to spend time fussing over his and Fin’s grandchild. The novelty of being a grandparent brought him new challenges and delights—something which didn’t happen often when you were approaching the end of your seventh decade on this planet.

John followed a turn along the tree-lined path that took him down a gentle slope, where spring flowers presented a cascade of blooms and colors in a garden overlooking the Hudson River. He no longer lived in this neighborhood—hadn’t for years, not since he and Fin had finally found a place they could agree upon sharing—but it was still his favorite park in the city. He liked the dramatic views, the relative peace and quiet, and the Cloisters to visit if he wanted to reflect on some art and history. He looked forward to sharing these things with the young boy as he grew old enough to appreciate them.

“What do you think, Caleb? Good place to sit and take a rest?” After close to an hour of walking, John could use a few minutes off his feet.

The infant had no answer for him, save gurgling noises and flailing arms. “I’ll take that to mean you have no objections.” John steered them toward the benches up ahead that looked out over the garden.

Perhaps because there was still a slight chill in the air, the park was even quieter than he recalled it usually being. Few other parents or nannies were out with strollers and only the occasional joggers rushed past, earbuds in place as they tuned in to their private little worlds.

Maybe that was why no one had noticed the small child sitting on the edge of the flower garden until John did. The girl sang to herself and seemed content and unafraid, contemplating the cascading bells of a grape hyacinth between her fingertips.

It would have made for a picture-perfect scene, save for the fact that the child appeared to be completely alone, with no one nearby watching over her.

This can’t be right, John knew, his mind instantly switching into detective-mode.

He surveyed the surrounding area with eyes long practiced to observe detail—and risk. He saw nothing. Most worryingly, he saw no sign of a parent or guardian in the area paying any attention to the girl. So he wheeled Caleb over to where she was sitting, bent down on knees that didn’t particularly appreciate the effort, and greeted her with a gentle, “Hi there.”

The girl peered up at him, curious, then responded with a shy, “Hello.” John gauged her to be no more than four or five years old. She wore clean clothes and looked well-cared for, not dirty or malnourished, her dark hair neatly swept back from her face with a colorful headband.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She hesitated. He almost wanted her to say she wasn’t supposed to tell that to or talk to strangers. But instead she said, “Sofie,” and then went back to fussing with the flowers.

“Sofie. That’s a nice name. My name’s Munch.” She gave him a funny look, as he’d hoped she would. He’d learned long ago that kids got a kick out of his last name, and a smile or a little laughter could go a long way in getting a child to open up. “What are you doing out here today, Sofie? Are you with someone? Is your mother or father nearby?”

“Mommy left me here. She told me to stay by the flowers. I like flowers.”

“I like them too. Especially these.” John pointed toward a group of tall red tulips. He looked around again, alert for any trouble, particularly as he had Caleb with him and didn’t want to put either child at risk. He remembered Fin telling him about Liv being in the park with Noah last year, how a boy discovered by himself in a sandbox had pulled a gun on them both. That wasn’t a predicament he cared to stumble onto, so he remained cautious.

But Sofie had no belongings with her that he could see, nowhere she could be hiding an unexpected weapon. “Do you remember how long ago your mommy left you here?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I hope he comes soon. I’m hungry.”

“‘He’?” John repeated. “Who’s that?”

“The prince. Mommy said if I stayed here and was a good girl, I might meet him. Then he would take me to his castle and make me his princess. And we’d have a dog and two cats and eat pizza and ice cream every night.”

John smiled. “That sounds really nice. So…what does this prince look like?”

“I don’t know!” Sofie blurted out, impatient and as if he were stupid to ask such a thing. “I haven’t met him yet!” She frowned and focused her large, dark eyes on John’s. “You’re not the prince, are you?”

“I don’t know, Sofie. Do you think I might be?”

“I think…I think you’re too old to be the prince. And you don’t have a crown.”

“A crown?”

“Like on tv, or in the fairy tales. A prince should wear fancy clothes. And have a big gold crown.”

Well, he didn’t think his present casual attire was that shabby, but she did have a point. “You’re right, Sofie. I don’t have a crown,” John said sadly, spinning a story in his mind to keep the girl’s attention. “I lost it. I was taking a nap earlier, under the trees back there, and the squirrels stole it. Ever since then I’ve been looking all over the park for it with my young friend Caleb here.”

“I’d help you look for it,” she said, “but I’m s’posed to stay here.”

“I understand. What if you helped me make a new one instead?”

Sofie giggled. “How do I do that?”

John’s thoughts went to what was right in front of them. “How about with these flowers? They’re pretty. Not as fancy as gold, to be sure, but I bet they’d make a real nice crown.”

“Hmm…” she contemplated, and then brightly said, “Okay!”

“Why don’t you pick out some flowers that you like the best. Not too many, though, just what you can hold in your hands. Then we can sit on the bench over there and work on it together.” His knees wouldn’t abide this crouching on the ground for much longer.

She nodded and sprung to her feet, excited to have a mission—and permission from an adult to charge into the flowerbed.

He hoped he wouldn’t get busted for vandalism, but he did have his identification from the DA’s office on him. That should get him out of any potential hot water. And if he stayed with Sofie here by the flowers, he could watch if anyone was planning on coming soon to collect her—either her mother, or whomever else was potentially going to take her. John would love to have a word with this so-called “prince”, if he was more than a figment of the child’s imagination.

But in the meantime, while Sofie gathered up her flowers, John sent a fast text to Fin about what was going on. This situation had SVU written all over it and he knew his husband would agree.

Indeed, Fin wasted no time heading to the park as soon as he received John’s message. Liv had offered to come with, since Rollins and Carisi were busy with a case of their own, but he’d insisted he could handle this solo. He was sergeant now; he could manage a lost or abandoned child without Liv holding his hand. Especially with John on the scene, who would be a lot better than the typical reporting witness when it came to describing what had happened.

Fin knew exactly where John meant when he’d said he was at the flower garden in Fort Tryon Park. They’d walked this path many times on relaxing Sundays past. A number of times on cases, too, which hadn’t been nearly as relaxing. John was no doubt doing a good job of keeping the child calm and entertained until he arrived—at least, Fin figured as much given John’s natural talent for handling kids. And he hadn’t heard back from John since acknowledging Fin’s message that he was on the way.

So yes, Fin expected to find a scene that was well under control. What he didn’t expect was to come upon a scene which left him struggling to contain his laughter—and reaching for his phone to take several photos, even shoot some video, before his husband noticed.

That might not be the most professional conduct for a sergeant, but these were unique circumstances.

For John was seated on a park bench with the girl on one side, Caleb’s stroller on the other. The girl was singing and trying to get John to join her, to teach him the words to the song. At least it wasn’t the other way around, Fin thought, John and those nutty songs of his he’d tried teaching Noah until ’Liv had found out.

But none of that was the remarkable part.

No, that honor was reserved for the crown of flowers encircling John’s head, woven together by what appeared to be dried tall grass and twigs. If Fin had ever seen a more ridiculous sight, he couldn’t think of it—certainly not while caught off-guard like this. The girl had several matching blooms tucked into her headband, and even Caleb’s stroller was now decorated with a small bouquet of daffodils wrapped around the handle.

Rollins is gonna scream when I send her this. Fin chuckled quietly as he saved the video and messaged it to her. Someone needed to retain proof of this moment, in case John caught him filming and immediately demanded Fin delete the pictures.

John eventually turned his attention away from the girl, noticed Fin, and smiled. That set off another wave of laughter from Fin, and the girl asked, “Who’s that? Is he the prince?”

“That’s my prince, Sofie. And now he’s here to help us get you home.”

“Hi, Sofie, I’m Fin,” he said, still grinning. He looked to John and asked, “Who are you now, Cinderella?”

“I always fancied myself more of a Jiminy Cricket.”

“In a flower crown?”

“Just roll with it.”

“I gotta, to put up with you every day.”

“You won’t believe how the rest of today went down.” Fin hung up his coat and started to get comfortable, glad to be home from work at last. “And what ended up being the story with Sofie.”

“Oh?” John came out of the kitchen to greet him with a quick kiss hello. He carried a plate of spaghetti and said, “There’s plenty more on the stove if you’re hungry.”

“Yeah, in a few.” Fin followed John into the living room and sat down at the dining table with him. “Took a little while to find out Sofie’s home address and locate her parents—Maria and Chris Delgado. Sofie couldn’t tell us where she lived, but she knew the name of her preschool. We were able to get the information from them.”

“So why wasn’t Sofie in school this morning?”

“See, that’s what started this mess. School was closed for teacher training and staff meetings. That was gonna put a cramp in Maria’s plans for the day. Turns out, she’s been havin’ an affair with this other dude for a while. Guy who works overnight in a bakery in her neighborhood. He comes over to see Maria and get nasty every day after the husband leaves for work and Sofie’s dropped off for school.”

“Getting it on with the baker? He must be quite the stud muffin.” John waggled his eyebrows.

“I’m gonna ignore you just said that. Anyway. Maria somehow got it in her fool head that Sofie would be fine for a couple hours if she left her in the park, since she likes the flowers so much. That way she could keep her ‘play date’ with bakery boy.”

“You’re kidding.”

“C’mon, man, you worked the job how many years? It’s far from the weirdest or stupidest shit we’ve seen.”

“True. But what was up with that whole ‘prince’ story Sofie was telling me?”

“That’s what Maria told her to make her stay in one place instead of wanderin’ around the park. That she had to stay right there if she wanted the prince to find her. So she’d run back to the park after having her morning rendezvous, pick Sofie up, and act like everything was business as usual.”

John let out a sigh. “Well, I suppose that is, at least, less sinister than some of the scenarios I’d been imagining.”

“Yeah.” Fin’s mind had been full of possibilities, too—child trafficking, some kind of fucked-up pedophilia ring…they’d seen and investigated it all before. Pure human stupidity hadn’t been high on his list. “Still, it could have turned a lot uglier if someone else had come across Sofie. Someone other than you.”

“So where is she now?”

“In foster care, for the night and until DCS can investigate the home situation. Sofie’s mother’s under arrest for child endangerment. The father’s already talkin’ divorce and kicking her out, but they want to make sure he can take care of Sofie first, and that there’s no other abuse goin’ on.”

“What a mess.”

“I swear they oughta make people pass a test, get a license before they’re allowed to breed—and yeah, I know, personal freedom and reproductive rights and all that shit. I don’t need the lecture tonight,” Fin warned. John closed his mouth and shrugged, going back to picking at his pasta.

Fin’s phone vibrated, so he pulled it out of his pocket, read the message from Amanda, and chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” John asked.

“Rollins says hi.”

“Is that all.”

“And she wants to know if you’ll wear that flower crown for Jesse next time you babysit for her.”

“Of course. You know, I always wanted to be a detective with flowers in my hair.”

Fin shook his head and with teasing affection told him, “Babe, you always were.”

[vintagemichelle91]

A Little Lesson in Joy: Part One

Authors’ Note: The time has come for Trevor and Alessia’s wedding!! I hope everyone is having a fabulous weekend, especially with the happy news of SVU coming back for a 19th season!!! Hooray!!! @rauliskafan and I hope you enjoy this latest little lesson!! We so look forward to your feedback!!!

           “Are you sure you’re alright, hermosa?” Rafael kept fussing around her as they walked towards the lobby for Alessia and Trevor’s wedding ceremony. Natalia felt as if everyone was waiting for her in this the final stage of her pregnancy with the twins already “running late…”

           …and her parents unable to put off their big day for a third time.

           Waving her worrying husband off, Natalia gave him a small smile. “Atticus, I’m perfectly fine,” she stated as they made their way to the elevator, Natalia wearing a flowing, single shouldered light blue dress.

           “You definitely look it,” Rafael said as he winded an arm around her waist and placed a chaste kiss on one of the ringlets framing her face. “As beautiful as the night I met you.”

           “I’m at least three sizes bigger,” she quipped with a sigh.

           “And every inch of you is all mine.”

           For a second he seemed to relax, and Natalia stroked his face, hoping that he would remain this way until her parents were pronounced---

           “Now remember; if you feel any discomfort at any point, you need to---”

           “Let you know,” she said, finishing the thought for him and cupping his chin in her hands. “I promise.”

           “I’m going to hold you to that,” he said. Whatever state his nerves were or were not in, he still smirked, and Natalia leaned in to him kiss him softly in the hope of banishing any lingering stress to parts unknown.

“You are sweet. But you worry too much.”

           “Can you blame me, hermosa?” he asked.

           “No. But I had a long talk with your youngest daughters,” Natalia said, patting her tummy. “They know how important today is, and they promise to keep the backflips to a bare minimum.”

           Smirking again, Rafael guided his wife through the sliding doors of the elevator of The Plaza Hotel, the sight of a once magical New Year’s celebration and now this most special of days.

            “I’ll be on my best behavior, too, hermosa,” he swore. “Wouldn’t want to spoil the mood of the day… or later tonight.” His tone was seductive as the elevator doors closed, and Rafael’s fingers gently traced a small path down the length of her arm.

           “Guess you really will take me any way you get me,” she teased making him blush. “You are something else, Atticus.”

           “I am many things, mi hermosa flor.”

           “Oh? Care to elaborate on that?” Natalia took hold of his hand and brought it to her lips.

           “Now?” Rafael’s voice was low and full of sweet seduction, the challenge of the brief time needed to move from floor to floor one that he would obviously rise to…

           …but the loud ding followed by the swoosh of the elevator opening broke the heated spell surrounding them as newly arrived guests filtered in to make their own way to the main lobby.

           “To be continued, Atticus,” Natalia assured him, squeezing his hand. “Later tonight.”

Alessia paced back and forth before the golden doors that would lead her to the love that she had lost for so long, the man whose fate would now intertwine with hers once again.

“I still can’t quite believe that this is going to happen,” the bride-to-be said in a shaky voice. Natalia smiled at her mother knowingly as Violetta glanced back and forth between the two.

           “What you mean, Nana?” the little girl asked. “You plan this day. Not like it some surprise.” Violetta fluffed out her tulle skirt, and Alessia bent down to her eye level to pinch her cheek.

“Quite right,” she said. “I’m just very excited, sweetheart.”

           “As you should be, Mommy,” Natalia said encouragingly as her smile grew wider. Her parents reuniting and rekindling their love for each other after all this time brought with it a new sense of hope that happily ever after would always appear as the final sentence in any story no matter what.

           “I can’t help but think that maybe… maybe all those years ago…”

           “Mommy, don’t look back.”

           “But we could have been together. It’s just… his life scared me. And with you…”

           “Everything is as it’s meant to be now,” Natalia told her. “I can attest to that.” She placed a gentle hand over her swollen belly, her babies on their best behavior even as she swore that she could feel them smiling.

           “Funny how life leads you down the right path,” Natalia whispered as she fiddled with Violetta’s curls, not wanting a single strand of her honey-colored hair out of place for her march down the aisle.  

           “Not without some challenges here and there,” Alessia pointed out.

           “Part of the ride, Mommy. Makes the end of the road even more beautiful,” Natalia said, her mother’s smile mirroring her own.

           “Can we get this show on road, already?” Violetta demanded. “Harold getting heavy now.” Violetta adjusted her little basket filled to the brim with white rose petals while holding Harold under her other arm. A blue bow the same color of her Mami’s dress adorned the hippo’s ear, and the two older generations of women laughed at the little girl standing before them in ivory silk matching her grandmother.

           “Good thinking,” Alessia said. “We better get going before your grandfather gets anxious.”

           “Along with your Papi, sweet pea,” Natalia agreed.

           “I all ready!” Violetta said determinedly, adorably so as she considered herself an expert on all aspects of being a flower girl, prepared to leave a trail of petals with every step.

           Which she did with skillful ease when passing by the other guests, their family and friends in attendance wearing smiles along with their finest clothes.

           “Are you ready?” Natalia asked her mother.

           “As I’ll ever be.”

           Extending her arm to give her mother away, Natalia practically floated down the flowered path to the sweet strums of violin strings. The ballroom had been transformed into a whimsical scene straight out of a fairy tale with white flowers galore and streaming, sparkling lights suggesting stars, a moment so exquisite that no one watching would ever forget. As Natalia kept walking in time to the music, she saw her father’s smile, the hint of regret in his gaze so like Alessia’s. But when Maggie, serving as something of a “best woman” for the proceedings gently nudged his ribs, Trevor seemed to calm, his cheeks blushing and his smile broad.

           “How are we doing?” Maggie asked once Natalia had guided Alessia to her groom’s side.

           “Perfect,” Alessia said, peering deeply into Trevor’s eyes. “Natty?”

           For a moment, Natalia was lost in thought, her eyes raking the crowd where Rafael and Dodds sat in the front row with Violetta and Harold nestled between them. A tiny twinge of sorrow tugged at her heart along with the wish that the twins were already here in the flesh to mark the occasion. Not in the cards. Not that she could complain. Natalia had so very much to thankful for and---

           “Natty?”

           Now it was Maggie asking the question, and Natalia’s head snapped back around to find her sister’s smile, and she quickly nodded her head.

           “All good,” Natalia said. “Isn’t anyone going to ask our old man?”

           Trevor beamed at the label, and Maggie straightened his boutonniere.

           “No second thoughts I hope?” Maggie asked to which Trevor appeared stunned.

           “Of course not,” he said, speaking fast. “Why would you even say that?”

           Maggie waved one hand in the air and shrugged her shoulders. “Standard question. Someone asked me the same thing on my wedding day…” Her voice trailed off as she smiled at Rafael. “… and I just want to be absolutely sure that there are no cold feet.”

           “None here,” Trevor said. “Quite the contrary; they’re rather warm.”

           “Good. Because even if you did have an escape route planned, there was no way I was going to let that happen.”

           Trevor chuckled, and Violetta turned to her Papi to ask how she looked coming down the aisle.

           “You did an incredible job, muñequita,” Rafael whispered into her ear.

           “Thought so,” she said, smiling in triumph. “But it very nice to hear you say it.”

           With that she settled in for the ceremony, sitting ahead of Liv and the Chief and Noah… …who Violetta just had to wink at. Carisi and Rollins sat with Jesse in their laps, all smiles. Finally, there was Fin next to Lucia. Everyone they loved most in the world present and accounted for.

           “It’s time, Trevor,” Alessia said.

           “Wonderful. We’ve waited for far too long.”

           Listening to the celebrant, their smiles never wavered, and they echoed the vows. Each time the words rang out they seemed more loving with each syllable. Alessia’s hand trembled slightly as the gold band made its way to her delicate finger, and Natalia shared a quick glance with her sister, happier than ever to have her, happier still when she thought of all the beautiful days that simply had to lie ahead.

           “You may now kiss the bride.”

           Trevor wasted no time pulling Alessia into his arms. Natalia felt her heart soar for her parents, and she couldn’t help but feel a little proud of herself for helping them come back together, to this moment. As they basked in the applause, Natalia glanced at Rafael, and blew him a quick kiss until the happy couple made their way to the other end of the room.

           Only then did he pounce with Violetta and Harold at his side.

           “Still feeling okay?” he asked.

           “If you keep asking me that, no cake for you,” Natalia warned.

           “Oh, Papi, you better be good,” Violetta seriously said. “The cake the main reason why people have weddings.”

           “Like mother, like daughter,” Rafael sighed as they followed the others out. Suddenly Natalia felt the twins twist in her tummy. At least they made it through the ceremony. And maybe once she sat down and had something to eat, she would feel so much---

           “Mami… did you have a potty accident?”

           The other guests turned to see Natalia’s eyes traveling down her frame, finding her dress drenched along with Rafael’s shoes.

           “Hermosa?”

           He could barely speak as he gripped her hand, and Natalia slowly met his eyes.

           “I… my water just broke.”

[poipoi1912]

(2/2) secondly, i havent seen the latest season yet, but i have heard talk about how the l&o twitter has been liking and retweeting a lot of barisi lately, and its officially the most written about ship. idk if its blind optimism or not, but a lot of the people i follow are thinking that itll either be canon or itll be hinted at. do you think l&o would be brave enough to actually go for it? or do you think its just something that the fans hope for but wont ever get to see?

I’m going to keep this real (fair warning).

Honestly, I do not think Barisi will happen. /Buzz Killington

(@nbcsvu feel free to prove me wrong though :D)

I do not think any ship will happen any time soon, at least going by the way the season is going, and I also get the (sad) feeling Tuckson might disintegrate as well. Ships require character development, and a personal touch, and a solid character voice, and humor, and subtext, and displays of actual emotion, i.e. all the little things this season has been lacking. I don’t feel there’s anything building up. It’s all about the cases.

Frankly, that’s not particularly new. Only Liv’s lovelife has received any attention in the last, like, 6 seasons. We also know about Rollins and her personal life, but those were all cautionary tales more than they were ships, lol. So, we’ll get more of the same, I guess?

I do think scheduling has messed with the continuity, if not the writers’ plans. They just aired episode 12 as episode 7. Next week, Tucker is back again. Which episode is that? When was it filmed? Before or after last night’s episode? Who knows? How can a ship survive this type of scheduling? An existing ship, like Tuckson, but also a budding ship, like *insert ship of your choice*?In my view, if Liv (the only character with any real focus and the only person whose feelings we actually get to explore) can’t be in a relationship, I don’t see how anyone else will manage it. Or, if you will, I don’t think the writers will bother writing anything juicy for anyone who isn’t Liv. (not that the Tuckson scene we got this week was juicy, by the way. What was that? Yikes. What happened to “I think you should try the bourbon”?)

I always used to joke about Rollaro, how it happened and we never really saw it, except that one (glorious, shirtless) time. If anything does happen this season, it’ll be like that. A ship reveal and then 5 episodes in which nothing is mentioned and the people involved act like simple colleagues. Remember how Nick left the damn show and he didn’t even say goodbye to Amanda? It’ll be like that. NEVER FORGET #justiceforamaro

As for twitter, I’m not active there (other than searching for, like, “carisi” and “peter scanavino” to find some news, lol) but, from what I gather, certain writers have certain favorites, and some writers seem to enjoy Barisi. For obvious reasons (because it’s amazing, and also because Peter and Raul are fantastic, individually and together). Realistically, I think we can at least hope that the episodes written by these particular writers will give us some Barisi quality content (as mentioned here). 

For the rest (i.e. for in-depth analyses of Sonny and Barba as multi-dimensional characters and for in-depth descriptions of them boning), there’s always fic :D

[spynotebook]

Ready for the return of the epic old-school recaps? Us too! We've started a crowdfunding campaign to make it happen. Visit the campaign page for The Return Of The Epic Old-School Recaps.

Guys! I actually can't wait to dig into this Law & Order: SVU season premiere in recap form! Over the last few seasons, the show has increasingly suffered from "especially heinous" writing and silent-movie acting, with the result that it's now a hate-watch for this correspondent -- but, to lean on another reference to the aughts here, I just can't quit it.

[fires warning shot of compressed air under caps-lock key] Aight, let's get this over with so we can get back to marinating in quality episodes from the past on USA Network, shall we? Chung chung!

Fade up on what I can only classify as proof that NBC is trying to penny-pinch SVU to death. You know in high-school productions of, like, South Pacific when a scene supposedly takes place on a beach, and the "sea" is two rows of blue oaktag cut into scallop shapes, with one of the theater kids who can't sing in the wings on each side, shoving them back and forth and seething because Mr. Ellroy SAID the spring play was Noises Off?

Welcome to the network equivalent, although a chyron is valiantly pretending it's "Havana, Cuba" and not a cramped corner of a Silvercup soundstage. When Will "Luke Wheeler" Chase appears with his pretty lady friend and adorable moppet, I almost expected him to have a plywood-and-suspenders "boat" on. He does not. Nor does he break into "Younger Than Springtime"; he merely bids his (we assume) little family adios and strolls off down the "cobblestone" "street."

Cut to another, verifiable street in the 212, where Lt. Olivia Benson and Noah are heading towards a corner, and Noah is whining about…well, I can't make it out over the loud whooshing sound generated by his Soap Opera Rapid Aging Syndrome. Unless that's the sound of that vein in my forehead swelling with rage-stroke blood because oh my God when is SVU going to stop with the Noah In Peril storylines -- NO! ONE! CARES! This is a police PROCEDURAL! Please proceed…TO NEVER SHOW NOAH AGAIN! …Why do I bother. As long as MarHar Superstar is an executive producer, I have better odds of Santa finally coming through with that pony than I do of getting anyone to listen to me on the Noah tip. More on why I find the child's storylines so terribly tiresome in a moment; first, let me note that, when last seen, Noah was a toddler with straight dark brown hair and brown eyes. This Noah is twice the height -- I'd guess the actor's age at seven, minimum -- and has light brown curly hair. I just…what?

At least he's also wearing black Chuck Taylors, my own Converse of choice, but before I can sew a cool-parenting badge on Liv's sash, Liv chooses to respond to Noah's whingy "I don't wanna go!" with an overly cheery "School is fun, right?" I just don't understand why the writers do this to Mariska Hargitay, I really don't -- or why she lets them, when she has kids of her own and should know that this fakey, hesitant dialogue she's always saddled with in her scenes with Noah is not how parents speak to their children. I don't have kids, so boulder of salt, of course, but I know parents, I had parents, and this is how people who don't know how to talk to kids, or who just met a kid five minutes ago, talk to kids. Exhibit B: Noah monotones that Lucy, his nanny, wouldn't make him go, and he wishes she were his mommy. Liv:

I mean, first of all, the fuck she wouldn't; Liv is always calling Lucy at all goddamn hours to get childcare coverage because God forbid she delegate anything to Fin, plus working for this stupid family has gotten Lucy shot at, menaced by William Lewis, and I've forgotten what all else, so there is no damn way she's letting Noah horn in on her cigarettes-and-crossword time when she can drop him at school instead. Second of all, and to my point above: toughen up, Liv. It's not your first day. Kids say bratty stuff. Get over it. But no, she's got to whip off her aviators and cry-voice, "What did you say?" This is where I start giggling because I'm remembering the time, SINGULAR, I observed that I would like to go live with my grandmother, who was a lot more permissive about things like sugar cereal and…most of the other things, because grandmothers, and my mother said, "What did you say?" and because I didn't want to get kicked to death, I chirped, "Nothing!" and ran off to do a loathed chore unprompted.

Alas, it is not Barb who is in charge here, but Liv The Helicopter Friend-Mom, so Noah reads off a cue card that is very obviously positioned 140 degrees away from where Liv is kneeling that he wishes Lucy were his mommy. Liv physically flinches, but pulls it together to quaver that it looks like he's stuck with her. She takes his hand and they continue on down the street, but at the corner, she gets a call and lets go of Noah to answer it. The signal changes from don't-walk hand to walk figure, and Ryan Buggle rather too carefully proceeds towards his mark in the crosswalk, and nearly gets grease-spotted by a taxi. Liv shrieks, "NOAH!" and grabs him out of harm's way as the cab -- and all the rest of the traffic on that avenue, like, is the light red for them or not? -- careens past, and then the ADR kicks in with a bleaty "Mom-meeee" that sounds like a kitten, so how old is Noah supposed to be, seriously?

Liv clutches him and repeats that he's okay about 150 times, and if she reams him for going ahead into the street without a grownup and/or scaring the shit out of her, we don't see it, because Liv is a saint who would never raise her voice to her child. I get that seeing the quotidian discipline and negotiations of child-rearing isn't necessarily great TV, but there's a simple solution to that problem in a cop show, to wit: refer to Noah without showing him onscreen. If you must incorporate him into filmed material, write Liv like an actual parent and not a weekend-dad kiss-ass.

Cuba Luke finishes an espresso, then gets kidnapped off the street and hurled into an ancient VW bus by two burly guys. In the back of the van, he's cuffed, then greeted by Fin: "Buenos dias, pendejo." You can say that word in network primetime now?

Hey, I wasn't complaining!

Cop shop. Liv gets another call, this one from Noah's school; apparently he's got some worrisome bruises, and after asking if he's in any pain, Liv theorizes that "maybe it was another student" and "maybe he just fell." Jesus H. Gambino, writers. Has any of you ever even met a little boy? I don't think my brother took a school photo without some kind of contact injury on his face until he was 12. There's no way a New York City school is going to call a parent who is a New York City cop over minor bruising, and there's no way said cop parent isn't going to be like, "Kids bang into shit, don't call me at work unless he's bleeding," and hang up. I mean, am I the crazy one here? Fortunately for us all, Liv is distracted by the entrance of Fin, styling a pair of black shorts and a little Panama hat, and his prisoner. Carisi and Rollins exposit that Willuke, who is going by "Byron Marks" here, raped three women "that [they] know about," then split before they could arrest him. Byron, unconcerned, greets Liv with "Detective Benson. How are you?" "A lot better now," Liv smugs, and I expect her to issue a snotty "and it's 'Lieutenant'" but she doesn't, just adds, "I hope?" by way of confirming with Fin that he took Byron into custody by the book. Fin claims he did.

In an interrogation room, Byron blah-blahs smarmily about the Cuban people. Rollins and Carisi are humorlessly offended by his bonhomie, to the show's customarily non-credible-for-veteran-police degree. Enter Liv; Byron twinkles that he missed her, calling her "Detective" again, and this time she does snap that she's a lieutenant, and if he missed her, maybe he shouldn't have run. He notes that, when "wanderlust strikes," a man has no choice, and blathers on about the verbal sparring, the "heave and ho" he so enjoys; even Liv's assertion that his DNA came up a match to all three victims doesn't affect his sunny attitude, so she leans down into his face to PSA that he ruined the lives of "three! innocent! human beings!" At that, Byron joins the rest of us in having had it, blaring, "And I suppose your sanctimonious crap fills their days with sunshine, and light!" I don't care to be siding with the perp here, but the writing has left me little choice, so: seeeeriously. Byron then bets that he can guilt Liv for not following up with the survivors forever, and snots that, after a couple of years, she stopped sending them Christmas cards because she got busy with conferences and co-op meetings -- but it's cool, because another victim will come along soon enough to let Liv pour out "that goopy stuff" overflowing her heart. Burn. Doesn't seem like he struck a nerve there, as Liv shrugs, "You done?" and suggests he confess and save them all some time, since they've got him cold. Byron's like, nah: lawyer. Rollins: "What happened to the old heave and ho?" Hee. Credits.

Barba's in the house, and he's skeptical of whether they can stick the landing, given the statute of limitations. When Fin's pressed this time re: whether the arrest was lawful, his answer is a dodgier "I thought we were all on the same team!" Encouraging! For now, we're briefed on Byron's m.o.: meet prospective victims at farmers' markets, carry their bags, then threaten to cut off their breasts "if they didn't 'enjoy their afternoon.'" Barba's like, yikes, then asks how the arrest went down. Fin's story is that he was on vacay in Cuba, saw Byron, tipped the local authorities, and pinched Byron without incident. Barba doesn't buy it,

but when Liv backs Fin's play, Barba tells them to "arraign the bastard." He leaves. Liv cuts Fin a "you better not fuck me up with this" side-eye.

At the apartment of Joyce Peterson, Carisi and Rollins inform her of Byron's capture. Joyce is visibly depressed and suffering from PTSD, but when she fails to evince a sufficiently gratifying reaction to the news, Rollins duhs at her that Byron "raped you at knifepoint," like, I think she knows. Joyce mumbles that nobody cares about her, including NYPD; that's why it took them six years to crack the case. Rollins protests that they never stopped looking for Byron. Carisi tells Joyce, albeit reluctantly, that they can subpoena her, but Rollins interrupts to thank Joyce and say they'll be going.

A playground. Keesha Johnson and Rollins watch Keesha's son shoot hoops. Keesha shrugs that she can't blame her son's dad for running off; who would want to be with a victim of sexual assault? Rollins reminds her that it was in fact assault. Keesha says that's what the doctor at the ER said, and Liv, but those are just words. "Things are good for" Keesha now, finally, so she's not going to testify.

Carisi bitches that they've finally caught "this prick" and now the victims won't take the stand. Rollins notes that Byron was one of her first SVU cases (NB: it was offscreen; we've not seen him before) and talks about his very real charm, and how she could have been "one of those women." Carisi joins me in giving her a "…k" look.

Karla Wyatt answers the door to Carisi and Rollins with, "Please don't tell me he's dead." Karla is played by Amy Smart, whom I've always liked and thought should have gotten more famous than she did. It's not like she vanished; she works, but she has star quality, and didn't turn into a star. Until recently, I guess I chalked it up to bad script choices or "just one of those things," but now I have to assume she got Weinsteined some kind of way. Anyway, here she's got a significant scar on her face, and a Jabba of a husband whose response to Karla's excited report that "they caught the bastard" who raped her is, and I quote, "whoop dee doo." He goes back to watching bowling -- okay, we get it -- but perks up, and not in a good way, when he hears that Karla has to testify. Carisi's like, it's not your choice, but Frank's like, she's my wife so it is too: "Like I'm gonna let her embarrass us in front of Mikey and Joe and the guys?" Yeah, we get it. Karla cringes, possibly because her living room just turned into a social-hygiene film about the stigma of sexual violence, as Frank goes on that the other victims can shoulder the burden of court. "Actually, Karla's all we've got," Carisi grunts. Frank's like, so "those other girls" have their heads on straight. Karla sighs that "Frank knows what's right"; Rollins's attempt to argue that testifying could bring Karla closure goes nowhere. Despite six years on the job in New York City alone, Rollins has apparently never been confronted with a reluctant witness or family member.

Back at the cop shop, Liv tries to de-Amish the proceedings by noting that the Wyatts' balking is "upsetting, but not surprising." Liv is wearing a pale-peach version of what is evidently her blouse of the season -- you know, for a couple seasons it was a lightweight v-neck sweater over a cami; another season, it was that gauzy floral under the v-neck?

Lately it's this tenty notch-neck affair. Not the most flattering, IMO. Anyway, Fin suggests using grand-jury testimony from six years ago, but Liv wearies that it's inadmissible hearsay; she'll let the Wyatts mull it over for a day or two and take another run at them herself. Fin doubts that's going to work. Liv snarks that she's sorry he ruined his own vacation, then, and he shrugs that he can only do so much fishing. Liv calls him aside and asks if he's still sticking with the coincidence story. No reason to change it now, Fin says. Hee. Liv is getting heated about how unlikely it is that, with the FBI and the Marshals looking for the guy, Fin's the one who happens to stumble over Byron in Havana. "I'd rather be lucky than good," Fin says, but Liv won't leave it alone. She's shocked Byron didn't put up a fight. Fin should know better than to admit that he "may-a had a little help," but admit it he does, and adds that it's better Liv not ask from whom. This gets a full-head eye-roll from Liv, but Fin is saved from a deeply hypocritical lecture by Liv spotting Karla at the precinct desk. She's going to testify, "screw" Frank. Liv and Fin exchange "…huh" looks, but because it goes on for like 45 minutes into the act-out, it's more like "…h…uhhhhhh…hhhhhhh."

Byron's arraignment, at which he's represented, scruffily, by Randolph J. "Taub From House" Dworkin. Dworkin takes issue with every single person in the state of New York arraying themselves "versus" his client, at length, and when Barba tells him to get new material and asks for remand, Dworkin objects not just to that but to "this entire proceeding," and asks for ROR. Judge Peck is like, "ha? defendant is remanded," as Fin slinks out the back. We're not the only ones who noticed that, as Barba catches up to him outside and asks since when he attends arraignments. Ain't you watched the show lately, Rafa? The whole squad is in court for everything, because nobody else gets assaulted until the current case is discharged. Keep up. Fin does not say this, just claims he wanted to make sure it stuck this time, and what's up with "that clown show" Dworkin? Barba would kind of like an answer to that himself, as Dworkin's usual bailiwick is federal court.

Oh, brother. So Liv is trying to back Noah's teacher, Mrs. Smiley (snerk), off with the "he's a kid" explanation for Noah's bruising. While I try to triangulate an explanation of Noah's current age based on the "Kindergarten, Here We Come!" signage in the room, Mrs. Smiley explains that the nurse interviewed Noah about the bruises, and Noah said Liv gave them to him. Liv does her now-patented Starman head cock and says she finds that hard to believe.

Exactly. Mrs. Smiley observes pointedly that Liv's job sounds very stressful. Liv doesn't see what that has to do "with anything," obliging Mrs. Smiley to explain to a veteran police officer who heads up a unit devoted to sexual and domestic assault that stress can cause people to act out physically. So Liv…acts out physically, rolling her eyes and grimacing and pacing and literally clutching her forehead.

When Mrs. Smiley isn't having her histrionics, Liv fumes that this is all a big misunderstanding. Mrs. Smiley's like, riiiight. Then she asks about Noah's father, which doesn't strike me as relevant or appropriate; Liv is incensed, but confines herself to gritting that "he is deceased." Mrs. Smiley is sorry to hear that. She says Noah seems to like Lucy a lot. "She's his nanny, what's not to like," Liv cry-voices bitterly.

Mrs. Smiley 2020. Liv begs her not to go where Liv thinks she's going "with this," and repeats desperately that it's all a huge miscommunication. Mrs. Smiley is sure Liv's right. (Ron Howard: "She isn't.") She just "had to see it for [her]self." What does that even mean? If you think Liv is harming Noah, the hell good does a parent-teacher conference do? You're a mandated reporter, no? File the report. On another show, preferably, because I could not care less about Noah if I were in a coma. Liv has also had it with this scene, because she stalks off.

Cop shop. Liv is sloshing coffee everywhere. Rollins is like, maybe enough caffeine?, and asks if Liv needs an ear. Liv brushes her off, but Rollins asks again if she's okay, like, she's your boss so maybe leave it out. Alas, Liv only needs one follow-up question to start sharing, like, she's your employee so maybe leave it o-- ugh, forget it. She tells Rollins she got called into the school about "this mysterious bruise on Noah's arm," which, now that I think about it, should really not be all that puzzling since Liv commented in the previous scene devoted to this POS subplot that she thought she'd cleared "all that" up "yesterday" -- meaning she got the initial call about the bruise yesterday, then presumably picked Noah up from school, or at least saw him after she got home, and could have questioned him about the bruise or even merely looked at/for it when she was getting him ready for bed. But no, by acting like they don't live together or that Noah chills at home in a hazmat suit, the writing can amp up the threat to Liv's little family by making the bruise "mysterious." Rollins NBDs that he probably fell off the swings; that's what Liv thought, but Noah told the nurse "a different story." Rollins is gobsmacked by the idea anyone would think Liv hurt Noah. Liv doesn't know "if he's mad, if he's acting out…" You don't know if your kid is mad? Whom you live with? I fucking can't, people! Learn how humans who live together act, writers' room! And by the way, The Horror At The Corner occurred a fucking day ago; would not a veteran investigator DETECT that perhaps it's whipping the ankle-biter out of the crosswalk like a giant yo-yo that caused the bruising?

Giphy

Liv whispers that she just kept thinking while Mrs. Smiley was quizzing her, "I'm the one who asks the questions." Rollins reassures her that she's a good mom, and "if anyone says different, they'll have to answer to" Rollins. Because who's a better character witness than Amarofucker McGamblingdebts over here. ...Okay, that second bit is unfair, but I stand by the first part. Shut up, Amaro. Barba stomps in just then looking for Fin, because Dworkin has filed a motion to dismiss the charges, claiming Fin kidnapped Byron.

Hee. "What if he did?" Liv grunts, not caring as much about managing her staff as she probably could. "We're screwed," Barba says. Liv looks around and chews her lip for a week before someone finally says "cut."

Motion hearing. Dworkin asserts that Fin "invaded a sovereign country" and grabbed Byron up. Barba counters that Byron is a serial rapist. Dworkin rants that that isn't a fact until a jury says so. Great, Barba says, a trial is what we want. The Honorable Johnny Sack looks disgusted with both of them as Dworkin continues that, had Fin pulled this shit even in Jersey, the arrest would be thrown out. Judge Sack asks if Dworkin wants to put Fin on trial. Dworkin says this court doesn't have jurisdiction in the first place. Barba and Dworkin joust with precedents for a while before Sack announces he'll hear arguments tomorrow.

Fin, Barba, and Liv sulk in Liv's office. Fin swears he didn't torture Byron, so the case Dworkin cited to kibosh the arrest isn't relevant. Barba hopes Fin can make that case from the stand. Fin: "I'm a credible guy!" Ringtone! Fin can't believe it doesn't matter that the arrest was in a grey area; neither can Barba, actually. He leaves, and Liv clocks him for not looping her in. Fin can live with some "mud" on his face if it means he caught Byron, but Liv can't; she intenses that, as long as she's in charge, "we do things the right way -- the legal way!" [eye-roll] Okay, Atticus. Fin's over it as well and snarks that she wanted Byron as bad as he did. She stares moodily out into the squadroom and says they fucked up not arresting Byron fast enough the first time. Fin shoots her a "well…yeah" look. She announces that she has to go home and teach her son -- pointed stare at Fin as she grabs her keys -- "that lying is a bad thing." Fin pulls a "good luck with that" face that is probably not how Ice-T was directed, but is quite amusing, because shut up, Liv.

Oh "goody," we "get to" see the aforementioned lesson. Liv is helping Noah on with a supes cute pair of octopus pajamas. Examining an adult-hand-shaped bruise corresponding to where she would have pulled him out of traffic, she asks if it hurts. It doesn't. Liv lets him know that she talked to Mrs. Smiley, and what she said the nurse said. "She asked!" Noah shrugs. Liv's like, we talked about telling the truth, remember? Noah did tell the truth: she gave him the bruise when the taxi almost clipped him.

My tax dollars at work, ladies and germs. Liv forgot! She's so sorry! Big hugs, and a reminder to tell the whole story when he tells the truth! Rueful violins are rueful, because even though Liv is doing a great job picking out cute sheets for Noah's bed, the violins have watched TV before, and this is not over!

Motion hearing. Dworkin examines Byron, and notes upon learning that Byron's job is English tutoring, "That's admirable." Barba objects without looking up from his legal pad. Hee. Judge Sack sustains it. We learn that Mrs. Byron and the Byronlet are Cuban, not American citizens, before Byron testifies that two guys grabbed him and threw him in the van, Fin cuffed him, they "drove…someplace," and he was left in the back for four hours. Here then is the torture claim, as it was over 100 degrees that day. Hearing this, Barba chews the inside of his cheek.

Fin's turn on the stand. He walks Barba and us through tracking Byron down: Byron is a big jazz fan (pfft, figures) (don't @ me), and in particular a fan of a guy named Walter Smith. Fin checked Smith's website periodically to see if Byron might have commented, and when a "B from Havana" compared Smith to Coltrane, Fin thought he might have his guy. So, he went down there, he put Byron in a van, and he convinced the local cops that he was legit and Byron was a bad actor. But he didn't torture Byron. Dworkin begs to differ, confirming with Fin that if he found a dog in a hot car he would have to arrest the owner for animal cruelty. Fin's like, I checked every now and then, and Byron never asked to get out. "Could be because he was unconscious," Dworkin says. Fin glares.

Judge Sack rules that, while he doesn't approve of Fin's tactics, they don't descend to the level of torture, and the trial will proceed. Not so fast, says Dworkin, and introduces a Mr. Formosa, a representative of the Cuban government who objects to his country's borders and laws being violated. Now it's Barba's turn to glare. Dworkin tries to tell Judge Sack he's not competent to hear a political question such as this, but Sack thinks he can deal after he eats some lunch.

And now, to lose my own lunch as Karla stomps into Liv's office to complain about the handling of the case and that the cops don't care. Liv's like, that's not exactly what's up here, which is true, and then Karla is obliged to whine, "You told me closure's a good thing, that it helps in the healing process!" They sit on Liv's Empathy Office Couch so Liv can cheerlead that Karla hasn't let the attack stop her. Karla is not a hundred that her having gotten married is evidence of her indomitable spirit (cosigned), and shovels an exposition pass about politicians deciding whether Byron gets justice in Liv's direction. Liv dunks it: for Cuba to "have standing," they have to show harm to one of its citizens, in this case Mrs. Byron, who's set to testify tomorrow. If Karla doesn't also testify, well… Told that they need her to keep the case alive, Karla's like, maybe Frank's not so dumb after all, and stalks out. Wait so but isn't she upset that the case might not go to trial? And given that it's not the cops' apathy that's endangering it, but rather a presentation of related factors which she could directly influence by taking the stand, why is Karla against participating now? The show could conceivably be taking the position that a survivor's attitude towards testifying can be changeable and/or illogical, but this doesn't feel purposeful. It feels like this part of the script never got past a first draft because everyone's focus was on this dumb wiener Noah B-plot.

Mrs. Byron testifies breathlessly that she met Byron when he came into her store. They went to lunch every day "for weeks" -- during which time, it's implied, he didn't try to rape her -- and fell in love and got married. She wails directly to Barba that it's wrong what Fin did. If Byron doesn't come back, the Byronlet, Teresa, will be destroyed. Dworkin stretches his legs after the guilt trip with a motion to release Byron ROR. Barba leaps to his feet while Dworkin needles him about only charging Byron with one count of rape instead of three, and maybe Karla's testimony isn't so solid either, hmmmmm -- and by the way, if the court isn't "competent" to adjudicate this case, it's not competent to hold Byron, either. Not sure how that argument works if you're going ahead and calling witnesses in a proceeding you don't acknowledge the validity of, but in any case, Judge Sack releases Byron to Dworkin's custody with a stern warning that they both better show up the next day. The Byrons hug.

On the courthouse steps, Barba grumbles that he wants Byron followed. He's not keen on letting Fin of all people do it, but allows it until someone else can take over, and bitterly bets that the Byrons will be en route back to Cuba by the next day.

What looks like a JFK terminal too fancy for me to have set foot in. Rollins tails the Byrons and Dworkin. She loses them, but Carisi picks up the trio. Later, Carisi explains how Fin violated international law as he and Rollins watch their tailees eating at a diner. Byron gets up to use the head, and Rollins tries to keep an eye on him while Carisi is still banging on about Raúl Castro sending a federale to kidnap Fin. Rollins is peering around Carisi's noggin and grousing that she gets it, he went to law school. After about 12 seconds they decide Byron's taking too long, and head in to check on him. Dworkin brays, "This is harassment!" It's going to get way worse if Byron isn't back there struggling with his dairy intake, Rollins tells him (sort of), and sure enough, a search of the crapper and the diner's storeroom makes it clear Byron has bolted.

Cop shop. Fin's alerted all the area airports, but Byron can't leave the country because he doesn't have his passport…so where did he go? Liv gets that liquid-bowels look and calls Karla, begging her to pick up. Then she dashes out. Um, delegating?

…HA HA HA HA, because why keep it frosty in your office like our queen Anita Van Buren when you can go out in the field without backup instead and REALLY put your foot in it? Liv charges up the front walk of Chez Wyatt, gun drawn, yelling for Karla. The front door is open. Liv has her gun sighted, but has learned nothing from the home invasion she blundered into a couple seasons back, or from doing this for 20 years, because she fails to clear the doorway, doesn't have a vest on, etc. She finds Byron seated tensely on the couch, and Karla pointing a revolver at him. She tells Liv to go away. Smiley/Karla 2020. Karla knows Liv can't do that, so can she put the gun down? Byron eye-rolls, "Women," and I don't want to laugh, but that line reading is aces. Less so Amy Smart's screechy choice on "You think this is FUNNAYY?!", which gave the line a weird top note of Real World Tami that doesn't work so well. Liv doesn't want to see Karla go to prison, but what does Liv think Karla's been living in the last six years? She sees the scar every time she brushes her teeth, brushes her hair…Byron babbles that he didn't come there to hurt her, he just wanted to explain about his family and ask her not to testify. Karla's like, GTFOH with that. Liv then goes with a "point the gun at me" approach, and I kind of want to see her get shot somewhere non-fatal like in the ass to teach her a lesson, but girlfriend never learns so let's just get on with this.

The ploy fails. Karla orders Byron onto his feet and shrieks at him about having made her beg him to cut her face. Now she wants him to beg. Byron is frozen, so Karla orders him to his knees or she'll kill him. Liv undermines her with, "No, you won't," like, shoot her in the kneecap or shut up, but you're not helping. Karla and Liv then get in a spat, basically, over whether Karla's capable of shooting Byron and how Liv can't leave her alone with Byron because blah blah blah honor-cakes, and it looks like Byron is thinking that he can make a break for it while these two dummies debate the concept of closure, but in the end he decides not to risk it, and kneels. "Now. I want you to beg me to shoot you." Karla presses the muzzle to his temple. Liv, who in this shot is standing not eight inches from Karla, keeps fruitlessly pointing her own gun at Karla's…belt? and reminding Karla she'll have to arrest Karla if she "do[es] this." Just arrest her now, fool! She's right next to you! Byron begs. Karla isn't satisfied: "You call that begging?!" She cocks the hammer, then begins to decompensate, wailing about the contents of her farmers'-market bag and Byron taking her life away. Liv murmurs platitudes about the pain returning when Karla is behind bars, but at least she's putting up her own gun and making like she's going to grab Karla's arm, finally. Liv says she's just going to take the gun, but a weeping Karla resists, and as Liv is wrenching it away, it fires into the ceiling. Liv orders him onto the ground at the point of Karla's gun, and cuffs him. "You're okay," Liv pants, but a sobbing Karla very much is not.

Cop shop. Liv hurls her blazer at a coat rack, where it lands on a hook perfectly straight. Got it in one! Nice. Barba hopes Karla thought Byron was going to assault her, presumably so he won't have to charge her, but Liv doesn't think so; nor does she think Byron broke in. She's going to take Karla's statement "in the morning" while Byron cools his heels in a holding pen overnight for tampering with a witness. Karla's not there now? I sympathize with her, but: menacing? illegal discharge of a weapon? Liv sighs that this way they can guarantee Byron shows up for court tomorrow. "If only to file false imprisonment charges," Barba sighs back, like, thank you, as I said I stand with Karla but she didn't not do anything. Barba says maybe Liv should just have let Karla shoot Byron. Liv snorts. Barba has to point out that he was joking. After a moment, Liv cry-voices, "I told her to point a loaded gun at me." Barba makes a face like "Livs gonna Liv," and Liv says, "I have a kid, Rafael. What was I thinking?" Not paraphrasing; that's the line. Barba doesn't know what to say to it either, so he pats her on the shoulder and murmurs, "Anyway." Pretty much, yeah. As he's leaving, Liv wonders if there's any way to convince a judge this isn't a political matter. Barba's like, after poor widdle Mrs. Byron cried on the stand about having her hubby taken away? Unlikely. Liv stomps off to take Karla's statement.

Said statement goes into detail about the rape -- Karla remembering trying to get through it by counting crumbs from her breakfast toast is quite affecting -- and is taken in the presence of Mrs. Byron, Dworkin, and Formosa. No idea how that's supposed to be binding, what the timeline is, whether Karla consented to putting this on Front Street for Mr. Formosa...I assume they're flooring it in the A-plot because Bruisegate ate so much runtime, but let's just go with it. Mrs. Byron is crying; Dworkin complains that this is completely out of line (amen). Liv tells him he can leave if he doesn't want to hear it. Mrs. Byron can't believe it was Byron, but Karla presses on with her story. Prompted by Liv, Karla sobs that, when Byron was done, he let her drop to the ground, then urinated on her. Dworkin starts to herd Mrs. Byron out of the room, but Liv notes that they have Byron's DNA, so they know he's done the same thing to at least two other women. Liv then works the kid angle, talking about how Noah insisted on bringing Teddy to school so he wouldn't get scared at home alone. (Fine, that's cute.) Teresa, the Byronlet, used her allowance to buy her doll a dress so she'd look pretty at Teresa's birthday. Dworkin can see the effect this is having, but Liv talks over him to ask Mrs. Byron if she really wants a rapist raising her daughter. Dworkin's like, aaaaand scene, but now Mrs. Byron wants to know what happens if she changes her mind and her story. Liv says that's fine: "All you have to do, is tell the truth." Barba asks Formosa in Spanish what the Cuban government's play is. Formosa basically says they'll stand aside if Mrs. Byron changes her testimony. Is Byron going to jail? Liv assures Mrs. Byron that her soon-to-be-ex is going to pay. Mrs. Byron wants to go home. Formosa will put her on a plane. They leave. All better! ...Yeah, I know, but again, just going with it here. Dworkin knows he's beat and asks if Barba is willing to talk. "As long as he does double digits…and the first one is two," Barba says smugly.

Everyone else shuffles out, and of course Karla has to thank Liv, although Liv says that was "all you, Karla." Karla half-jokingly asks when the closure kicks in. Liv takes her hands: "You're gonna be good. That I can promise you." You…can? Because picking up trash as part of your gun-charge probation is cl…eansing? This show, ffs.

…THIS SHOW, FFS. Okay, so Liv is fun-mom sing-songing "Who wants ice creaaaam?" to Noah and teasing him about how he ate all the strawberry ice cream AND finished the chocolate syrup too, like they're roommates and he was supposed to put it on the list or something, idek. There's a knock at the door, because Liv lives in the Felicity dorm where you can just walk into the building, no doorman, no buzzer. She does check the peephole, for once, and given who's on the other side of the door,

I suppose you could fanwank it, since they were basically living together a few years ago and he could still have a key, or have badged her doorman, but it seriously happens all the time on the show and I simply cannot accept that a longtime SVU detective who has been stalked her own self would be this blithe about home security, especially not when she has a kid now. She gets doorstepped by Brooke Shields in the next episode, no? Writers: buzzer. Videophone. Something.

Anyway, Cassidy is still foine, and flirty about Liv owing him a cup of coffee. She allows as how it's not a great time, but doesn't invite him in, choosing to make chitchat in the doorway about Cassidy's moving to Florida, and this is totally me projecting because I own three cats but Liv just standing there with the door open is giving me agita. Invite the man in already, jeez -- especially since the rambling story he's telling about deciding retirement isn't for him and moving back to Gotham to take an investigator gig in the DA's office is taking kiiiind of a long time to get to any kind of point. As I'm wondering why he didn't bring his old partner Munch with him since he's also on DA-investigator detail, and whether Belzer passed on coming back or what, Cassidy edges up to why he's really there, saying he caught a child-abuse case. SVU had to recuse themselves, he says. "That's odd," Liv says, because apparently giving Karla purpose and meaning caused a selective amnesia concerning Bruisegate in The Best Detective Ever. Cassidy's like, sooooo it's not really that odd because we're investigating you. Liv gawps at him for what feels like a month, no doubt groping for something, anything to say in the face of the utter pointlessness and inanity that is this plot twist. Cassidy comes to tell her? Not a social worker or Child Services, or IAB? Not a cop from another precinct? Not Peter Gallagher's left eyebrow? And…now they come? Over a single bruise that she can credibly explain, and presumably did already? And seriously, truly, find me someone who cares in the first damn place. YOU CAN'T. NO ONE CARES. NO ONE! NOT ONE PERSON!

CREDITS! …God.

Dear Lord in heaven, how I love to hate this 25-car pile-up of a show. Thanks so much for coming on this journey with me, and for supporting us in our quest to return to old-school epic recaps. (I dare y'all to force me to recap the Vixy Platinum episode somehow. Hee.)

Cragen 4eva, Sars

[hawkland]

for the in depth fandom questions: svu

@adarafaelbarbas also asked for my SVU thoughts, so here you both go! 

And it got long, so I’m putting it all behind cut….

Top 5 favourite characters: Top 2 are no surprise to anyone: John Munch & Fin Tutuola of course. After that? At the moment I’d probably have to say Casey Novak, George Huang, and Don Cragen. But that can vary a bit depending on which episodes/seasons I’ve been watching recently.

Other characters you like: Hmm, well, I’d say I “like” most of the regulars through the years, or else I wouldn’t be a fan in the first place, would I? If I had to pick say five more to round out my top 10, though, I’d probably go with Melinda Warner, Alex Cabot, Olivia Benson of the early seasons, Nick Amaro, and Rafael Barba. 

Least favourite characters:  Chester Lake, any of the ever-changing ADAs from seasons 10-12, Dale Stuckey (you bastard you killed O’Halloran!), Elliot Stabler from about season 6 onward, Olivia Benson from at least season 16 onward (though she started annoying me at times far before that, especially in her attitude toward Rollins and Amaro in Season 13).

Otps: Munch/Fin, of course, before any others! I also ship Cabenson pretty hard; it was probably my first ship when I was watching the show originally. 

Notps: Eeeeeh, I always sort of tread lightly around declaring NOTPs because there are a lot of ships I don’t particularly care for, but my reasons can be weird/personal and I don’t like stirring up wank talking about them or the reasons why. But I will say that I definitely never liked E/O as a romantic ship, only as friends. And I have a personal squick for shipping Fin with anyone but Munch because I just want them to be together (and yet I’ll ship Munch with pretty much anyone else, though maybe not as an endgame ship, so I’m kind of a hypocrite that way? IDK…) I didn’t care for Tuckson, and Barisi…I just honestly don’t really see it, and while I’ve tried reading it in fic I’ve rarely found a story that convinced me or felt in character to my mind.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Favourite friendships: Munch/Cragen, Fin/Amanda, Munch/Amaro, Munch/Benson, Bensler (early seasons before it all got fucked up)

Favourite family: I guess I’ll say Fin, because as messed-up as it may be, I do enjoy the episodes featuring Ken & I love the idea of Fin becoming a grandfather. I also really really want Ken & Alejandro to be together and be happy!

Favourite episodes: With so many seasons it’s hard to narrow it down to even a top 10. But some of the ones I will always rewatch when they’re on include Remorse, Nocturne, Legacy, Manhunt, Countdown, Denial, Careless, Painless, Haunted, Scavenger, Parts, Raw, Screwed, Alternate, Cold, Authority, Zebras, Anchor… ie, most of the very Fin and/or Munch-centric ones.

Favourite season/book/movie: Seasons 2 and 5 are my favorites—2 for the way the team really came together and so many of the cases/episodes featured ALL of the detectives working as a unit. 5 for some of the most interesting cases and the whole loss of Alex/introduction of Casey storyline.

Favourite quotes: Ah, so many but a few off the top of my head:

“If you don’t question authority, you lose your humanity.”

“I just know stuff.”

“That’s my Jew.”

“Once god gives you a uterus, then I’ll listen to your sermon.”

“Even a turd can float.”

Best musical moment: The final montage in Screwed set to Mark Isham’s “Sense of Touch”. The music is perfect and the ending of that episode always gets me emotional.

Moment that made you fangirl/boy the hardest: How do I even narrow it down?!?! Munch and Fin sharing a motel room in Manhunt, maybe, and finally having a bit of a heart-to-heart. That or when Ken has dinner with John to introduce Alejandro because I still insist there is no possible heterosexual context to that scene whatsoever.

When it really disappointed you: Oh so so many times but, probably one of the biggest disappointments for me was last year, all the hype about “Munch returns” when he ended up having all of about 2 minutes screen time—and really didn’t get to have any good interactions with anyone other than Benson & Noah.

Saddest moment: Munch’s retirement. You know, I still cannot watch that episode in its entirety? I’m not ready for the emotional gut-punch.

Most well done character death: Mmm…I might go with Sonya Paxton on that, because it was emotional and sad and yet she also was able to at least, in her death, provide evidence to catch her (and others) killer. Unlike Sister Peg and O’Halloran’s deaths which just felt cheap and unnecessary…and I won’t even go into how I feel about how they killed Mike Dodds (that’s why @ladyzootie and I are working on a story to set THAT right!)

Favourite guest star: Robin Williams in Authority, though I also loved Jeremy Irons, especially in his second appearance in Totem. As much as I love Huang, I would have enjoyed seeing more of Dr. Jackson as well; Irons was perfect in that role and brought a lot to the show with his character.

Favourite cast member:  Don’t make me choose between the Belz and Ice-T! I love them both too much to pick a favorite.

Character you wish was still alive: Mike. Dodds.

One thing you hope really happens: That the show either brings on a new full-time detective for the unit or starts using more supporting characters again: show the detectives going to the morgue, working with TARU, working with a psychiatrist instead of having Benson diagnosing and doing everything herself. But, I’m not holding out great hope for that.

Most shocking twist: Shocking in a not-good way: Tuckson. Sorry, I never bought it, I don’t see all this so-called evidence that the writers were “setting it up” for seasons before it happened. Total WTF??!?! for me.

When did you start watching/reading?: I actually vividly remember watching the pilot episode when it first aired in 1999. I’ve pretty much followed it on and off since then, watching regularly at least on thru Season 9 or so and I think that’s about when I lost at least some of my interest. But that said, I was mostly a casual fan until about 2 years ago when I really fell hard into it in a “fannish” way, after rewatching old episodes in reruns.

Best animal/creature: THE MONKEY IN THE BASKETBALL

Favourite location: The original squad room.

Trope you wish they would stop using: SAINT BENSON IS THE ONLY PERSON WHO CAN DO EVERYTHING IN THE SQUAD. ENOUGH ALREADY.

One thing this show/book/film does better than others: Errrr…hmm. These days I can’t think of anything it does better than other shows besides bore and/or annoy me, sorry. In the earlier seasons I’d say it was unique in the way it tackled messy, painful, and often controversial issues of sexuality and “sexually based offenses”. It wasn’t always perfectly PC but it did a good job of presenting complexity and showcasing how societal ideas were changing and being challenged—without just feeling like a soapbox.

Funniest moments: All of Wildlife is pretty hysterically bad but in an entertaining way. In fact Mr. Hawkland just saw it for the first time this weekend and was laughing hysterically at some of the lines in it. But also Countdown, for having such a dark plot, is one of my favorites for all of the great one-liners and funny scenes ( “I’m not tipping all of you”, Munch and the empty coffee can, etc.)

Couple you would like to see: Ha ha ha ha, well of course Munch & Fin, but I know that will never happen. And honestly, even if it did I wouldn’t want it to be acknowledged as canon until the very last episode. Because the writers would surely fuck it up otherwise the way they do every other romance on this show. Otherwise I do kind of like Rollisi, not in an OMG I LOVE THEM sort of way but I do see potential for chemistry, and that Carisi could be a good kind of stabilizing influence on her with her crazy family life. But, would she in turn be good for him? That I’m not so sure about.

Actor/Actress you want to join the cast: I would SO love to see more of Bayard Ellis. His character was great and such a good foil to Benson. I’d love to see Andre Braugher return to the role.

Favourite outfit: Any of Fin’s suits in season 2.

Favourite item: Fin having a picture of Spartacus and Maximus (Ice’s dogs) on his desk (which I never noticed until @sammael77 caught it!)

Do you own anything related to this show/book/film?: A few fan-produced t-shirts, magnets and other odds and ends, my MunchFin iPhone case, and seasons 1-15 on DVD

What house/team/group/friendship group/family/race etc would you be in?: My “squad goals” would be the team from seasons 5-8: Munch, Fin, Benson, Stabler, Cragen, Novak, Warner, Huang. That’s my all-time favorite team. 

Most boring plotline: Anything involving the Stabler family.

Most laughably bad moment: “Redchannit”

Best flashback/flashfoward if any: Eh, I think the few times they’ve done as much haven’t been very good. I know I really disliked the way they repurposed season 1 footage for Manhattan Vigil to change what those scenes were initially about.

Most layered character: All right so it’s maybe my bias talking, but Munch! Especially because I “cheat” and include all of his Homicide characterization too. But honestly…Munch really is a lot more than a sarcastic conspiracy theorist. I think where I really love the complexities of his character coming through are his struggles with issues like suicide and assisted suicide, which came through not just in Painless but also Mercy. On one hand he’s such a strong personal choice advocate and on the other, he knows first-hand how difficult it is for family members when a loved one commits suicide. And what about protecting those who are not being given the choice to end their life or live?

But also, I love that he’s one of the few (main) characters the show ever allowed to remain childfree, yet he was also shown to be incredibly caring and good with children (illustrating that not all childfree people hate or are bad with kids; they just know they aren’t meant to raise one full-time.) He has complicated feelings about women, sometimes (especially early on) seeming incredibly bitter and cynical but deep down he is a lonely romantic. 

Most one dimensional character: Honestly, at this point, St. Benson the Holy Redeemer of All Rape Victims. 

Scariest moment: Hmmm…I’m having a hard time pinpointing this or narrowing it down to a single “scariest” scene. In general I get freaked out any time they show a serial killer’s “work den”, like in Manhunt or Signature. Because thinking about what those victims had to go through before being killed just makes me really feel sick to my stomach and horrified.

Grossest moment: Hyena vomit

Best looking male: Dammit, don’t make me pick between Munch or Fin because I can’t.

Best looking female: Casey Novak

Who you’re crushing on (if any): Of the current cast, only Fin, who just seems to be getting hotter with every passing year. Of all years, of course Munch, but I also crush on Casey and early season baby!butch Benson. 

Favourite cast moment: I think I’ll just say all of the episode Countdown, because to me that was ensemble perfection.

Favourite transportation: Eh, doesn’t really seem to apply here to this canon, does it?

Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise): Still gonna go with the end of Screwed, because I love that final scene with Fin, Ken and Darius on the courtroom steps.

Unanswered question/continuity issue/plot error that bugs you: 

Hahahahahahahah so many so many….

Continuity/plot error: It still bugs the crap out of me (especially as a fic writer who is anal about canon facts) that in Season 2 they messed with Munch’s background from Homicide, and tried to make it sound like he grew up in New York. THAT IS WRONG WRONG WRONG. I’m not going to throw away the family/childhood details we got in Homicide just because the SVU writers were lazy. And it really pains me because it comes up in two of my otherwise favorite episodes (Legacy and Manhunt), so when I’m writing anything where that might come up I have to go through mental gymnastics to explain why he might lie. Or just ignore SVU’s “canon” on that

Unanswered question: WHATEVER HAPPENED TO KEN & ALEJANDRO’S BABY? THAT POOR SURROGATE HAS BEEN PREGNANT FOREVER. Unless that’s just something they’ve completely forgotten about and we’re just to assume Fin is a grandfather now and never talks about it at work while everything and anything Olivia or Amanda does has to relate to them being mothers.

Best promo: Well, I really liked USA Network’s recent “Fin-a-thon” promo…especially for Ice talking about Fin & Munch.

At what point did you fall in love with this show/book:  I’ve mentioned this before, but the funny moment when I went from being a casual viewer to developing my current obsession was in Spousal Privilege when Fin said to Amanda: “ I learned two things in my 15 years here at SVU. One: you can’t take this job home to you. Two: you can’t take anyone from this job home with you.” I hadn’t been watching regularly for a number of years so immediately I was like, “WAIT A MINUTE DID HE JUST ACKNOWLEDGE HAVING A THING WITH MUNCH?!” It’s weird the things that set my shippy brain off. Suddenly I wanted to catch up on everything I missed, and that made me then want to rewatch EVERY episode, and mild fannishness became a total obsession.