#THREAD; ( RAFAEL )

[aquamanandfriends]

Professionalism [Rafael/Carmen]

@thestoriesincoffeestains enjoy

He'd been overly confused when she pulled him side to talk to him in private, thinking at first that it was about a routine or practice. Raffy had been doing his best to not think about her, to try and move on like she'd asked him to do but this? This was not what he expected. He stayed quiet, his brow tight with confusion, as she reamed into him about the girl he'd been hanging out with lately. “What? Carm, you can’t tell me we need to stay professional and just be friends, then get mad at me for doing exactly that!” Rafael countered finally speaking up.

[iamsigningmylifeaway]

am I the only one who’s insane about how in 12 final days when roger is at his anxious peak about the beginning of the laver cup, apprehensively approaching and greeting the group of players in the event center, djokovic is the one to let him know impartially that he is wearing a tux shirt and not a suit shirt, wherein roger still has the time to go change which he does, and this is right after the movie frames the still remaining tense dynamic between the two and djokovic’s vaguely inexplicable and ambiguous reason for showing up today

​… …. like it’s the fact that is showing up for roger and being friendly and sympathetic and in moments like these, roger visibly awkward and not knowing where they stand, he is almost tender and all signs point to positive relationship, but he also somehow holds a relaxed almost pleased air throughout the flurry of everyone crying and mourning …

[radicalrascals]

Open: Rafael has a weird sense of humour. That's it. That's the whole plot. Looking for: friends, colleagues, partner (f 30+), basically anyone that fits Muse: Rafael da Silva, journalist | fc: Wagner Moura

"Oh! Oh! This is a good one!" Evidently it had to be one of his best stories for Rafael could barely reign in his laughter at this point. "You know, in my line of work death threats are kind of a merit badge." Another laughing fit was stifled and masked with a fake cough. "I know, I know. Death threats aren't funny, but-"

An unnecessary pause followed. For dramaturgy's sake. Then he continued, chortling: "This one didn't get the memo that death threats are sent anonymously. You should've seen his face when I recited it back to him." He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "Priceless!"

[electric-lights]

(un)welcome visitors

Rafael Barba x gn!reader

"I didn't know every coffee maker between here and the DA's office mysteriously combusted."

He purses his lips in a humorless smile, leaning against the wooden sideboard and tapping his fingers impatiently as the machine heats up. "Carmen's out sick," he explains, his voice clipped. "The coffee stand's closed, and even I can't make myself drink the courthouse sludge."

Rafael may be using you for your coffee maker, but when a personal issue arises he offers some unexpected support.

tags: established friendship, fluff, mutual pining, hint of family angst on the reader's side, gender neutral reader, no y/n, no reader physical description

word count: 1400

note: it's only vaguely alluded to but reader is a law librarian at the county law library, which happens to be located right across from 1 hogan :) essentially you research, gather, and analyze legal materials for the public, courts, and recently a certain ADA

read on ao3 here

You lean back in your office chair with an amused grin. "Nice to see you too, Barba."

The man currently beelining it to your office's single cup coffee machine doesn't have the good grace to look chagrined. Rafael shoves his thermos underneath the spout, drops a pod in the machine, and slams the lid without even looking at you. "Yes, hello, you look good, how've you been," he rattles out dryly.

"You talking to me or the Keurig?"

The withering look he shoots you is mostly without teeth. It's not enough to deter you.

"I didn't know every coffee maker between here and the DA's office mysteriously combusted."

He purses his lips in a humorless smile, leaning against the wooden sideboard and tapping his fingers impatiently as the machine heats up. "Carmen's out sick," he explains, his voice clipped. "The coffee stand's closed, and even I can't make myself drink the courthouse sludge."

You raise your eyebrows.

He glances over, then does such an utterly offended double take that you have to turn your surprised snort into a cough. "That was under duress," he warns, raising a finger in your direction.

You can't help it.

"I come to you in my time of need and you mock me," he deadpans as you laugh.

"Right, except I was your third choice."

He opens his mouth to deliver what promises to be a scathing retort, but the machine chooses that moment to finally hiss to life and the aroma of vanilla beans starts to fill the office. Rafael sighs, and some of the bristling tension seeps out of his shoulders. You decide he's probably suffered enough.

"Look, not that I don't appreciate the visit," you lean forward on your elbows against the desk, "but have you ever thought about just buying one for yourself?"

You knew he rarely used the old drip maker collecting dust in his office, preferring to buy it fresh - or, when he's particularly desperate and can't get away, send Carmen out with his card. In fact, you weren't even sure the damn thing worked until you'd found half of SVU camped out in his office late one night, going over the details of a difficult case with the carafe passed around the table. But surely, when caffeine-withdrawal was at stake...

"Then people would ask to use it." Rafael's nose wrinkles at the thought as he watches the thermos fill.

The stunning lack of self-awareness doesn't seem to register.

"Hmm," you hum, "says the man raiding my coffee stash." He blinks, pausing as he screws the thermos lid on. "The man with his own snack budget at the 16th."

He rolls his eyes. "They should consider it payment for goods and services." He says it with no small amount of smarm, but as he turns towards the loveseat you managed to cram into the corner of your small office, you watch him cradle the warm thermos in his hands like a prized possession.

"Speaking of," you say slowly, reaching down into the bottom drawer of your desk and tossing the contents to him. "Here."

He deftly catches the bag, and you feel inordinately pleased when you see his eyes light up at the chicago-style popcorn. "What's this for?"

Because you see how hard he works. Because you like that your office has become a place he frequents. Because you want him to stay a little while longer.

Because you're starting to like him more than the professional bounds of your positions, even the personal warmth of your friendship, and a small, foolish part of you can't help but hope he might feel the same way.

You clear your throat a little, shifting under the way his observant gaze turns thoughtful at your silence. "Let's just say Sergeant Benson isn't the only one with a snack budget."

He huffs a laugh, murmurs his thanks, and just like that any moment you imagined is gone.

With warm drink and food in hand, he finally collapses into the old, worn loveseat. He settles, sinking into the cushions and letting his eyes flutter shut as he tips his head back with a sigh, the long line of his neck and hint of scruff bared above his slightly loosened tie. You give him a moment, quietly shuffling some papers around, trying not to think about the warmth in your chest at seeing him so comfortable in your own space.

It isn't until he sits back up, taking a sip from his thermos with a pleased hum, that you speak, your voice quiet. "So how are you Raf, really?"

"Tired." He breaks open the popcorn. "Sick of fighting off motions for this case. You?"

You grimace, thinking about the pile of work growing in your inbox. "About the same."

"Well aren't we a pair." He gives a little crooked smile as he says it, and you try not to look too pleased with his choice of words.

You settle into quiet conversation - about his mother (she's doing well, and he talks about her work at the charter school with no small amount of pride), about the latest inter-office gossip (there's at least two affairs going on but he only complains about O'Dwyer's latest promotional pet project), about the request his office sent over yesterday (you're already working on the case analyses).

He's just explaining what details he'd like you to look out for when there's a light rap at your door.

Rafael pauses. You unconsciously straighten in your seat before you call out. "Yes?"

The door creaks open and one of the front desk assistants steps just inside the threshold. "I'm sorry to interrupt." She looks between you and Rafael, then turns back to you. "But your father is here to see you."

You blink.

"That can't be right," you frown. "My parents don't even live in the city."

She glances again at Rafael - who's watching you intently over his thermos - before she turns back to you with a strained smile. "Just passing along what he said," she says, her voice apologetic.

"Did he give a name?"

When she says it you sigh, cursing internally. "Alright, I'll... I'll be down in a minute. Thank you."

And with that, she nods at you both and closes the door behind her. In the ensuing silence, the easy, friendly air from before seems to have been sucked out of the room after her.

"Should I go?"

"No." Your reply is fast enough that Rafael'e eyebrows raise in surprise. "No, I'll just see what he wants and send him home. He shouldn't even be - I can't believe he's - fuck." You trail off into a groan of frustration, burying your head in your hands.

"One of those, huh," he says softly. It's not spoken as a question.

"Yeah," you mutter into your hands.

"Want me to scare him off?"

You know he's just trying to lighten the mood but your heart still jumps when you look up at him, foolish and half hope. "Would you?"

It slips out before you can stop it but you can't regret asking, not when he holds your gaze with a kind of warmth and sincerity he usually can't afford to show.

"For you?" he murmurs, "Of course."

You're proud that your next breath comes out relatively steady.

"Thank you," you say softly. "But you really don't need to get in the middle of my family drama."

His lips twitch into a wry, crooked smile. "I'm paid to get in the middle of family drama all the time. Yours is no trouble, trust me."

Your chest shakes with a laugh despite yourself, and his smile softens, his eyes crinkling. In the light of the setting sun from your window, it makes him look younger. Lighter.

It looks good on him.

"At least let me walk you down."

He never was one to give up on a tough case. If you're honest with yourself, you never want him to stop.

"Alright, alright," you cede with a small smile. "It's a deal, counselor."

Looking entirely too pleased with himself, Rafael pushes up from the loveseat, thermos in hand. He takes his overcoat from the rack by the door and holds out your own, and your elbows brush as he steps out of your office behind you.

As the two of you walk down the hallway towards the elevator and whatever unpleasant surprise awaits you in the lobby, you realize that somehow - with Rafael beside you - you don't dread it.

[jcksonfields]

Who: @rafaelcb and JD

Where: Marina, Haunted Boat Ride

When: October 2024, Hallo-Week

"Ready some s ary stuff Rafael?" JD asked, turning to the other as they walked towards the line for the haunted boat ride down by the marina. "I promise not to grab into you man," he teased, elbowing Rafael gently with a laugh. In fact JD liked the scary and spooky stuff associated with Halloween. He enjoyed the movies, the haunted houses. All of it. "Though I would not have thought of you as a guy who liked all of this stuff to be honest."

[etxrnaleclipse]

Closed painful starter for @radicalrascals

It was a beautiful day and that was why they had chosen to head out to the park. Packing up a picnic, Isabella had prepared everything for them to have the perfect time together, a date of sorts that they didn't always get to experience due to their busy lives. Their little angel was with Isabella's brother for the day, allowing them to have some peace that was well deserved. Having found a spot atop a hill, far enough away from anyone else, they had sat with their food and drinks with the warm sun beaming down upon them, hands linked and Isabella's head resting on Rafa's shoulder.

"I love you, vida mía." Isabella whispered, smiling softly as she looked up to meet his gaze, brushing her lips across his. "But I need to get rid of this trash before I get too comfortable." She motioned to the empty containers and tissues that they had used and quickly gathered them up. "I'll be right back." She slowly got to her feet, smiling down at her love for a moment before walking away, heading down to the base of the hill to the bin. They had the whole rest of the afternoon together before they would have to collect Alicia from her brothers, so she intended to ensure that they made the most of this time.

But that was not to be, as it seemed the universe had other ideas. As Isabella turned to walk back to her husband, she spotted a hooded figure approaching him from behind, face hidden and a large item in their hand that looked sickening like a blade.

"Rafa! Rafa, olhe!" She began to sprint up the hill towards him, desperate to get there.

[sawyermarshall]

who: @rafaelmoldonado

where: rafael's porch

Sawyer sits on the little bench, her eyes focusing on the street in front of her. It's been hard to feel much lately, which should have been terrifying but for the first time in months it was a relief. To know she already disappointed the one person on this Earth who stood by her side for all these years. She places her hands on her knees as she lifts her eyes up when she sees Rafael walking up the path. "Hi... Thanks for letting me come."

[youllalwaysbemyporcelain]

@devilsmenu

Max was so excited to hang out with his brother. He'd gotten him to agree to do some training with him, since he was still determined to have some shadowhunting training, even if he could never truly be one. He tries hard not to think about that. "Rafe! I can't wait! What are we doing first?"

[pcrdidcs]

( closed ! ) starter -> @yczmin location: valparaíso centro médico, blood donation day

she looks really familiar. like. really really familiar, and not in a good way, either. if people look familiar to rafael and they're not in his phone contact, it can only mean one thing . . . he had ghosted her before. good god, what kind of universe was this that he would suddenly meet her at the edge of the world? this wasn't fair at all. he had just started his "new year new me" routine ( five months after the new year began ). he isn't ready for this moment! this is too much like a final exam; he's gone to the gym once. he'll crumble under this pressure easily! his brain is wracking ways to get out of this situation, but he's currently hooked up giving blood . . . right next to her . . . there's no way out unless he wants to painfully rip out the needle. which he doesn't, of course. god, maybe this is a test. maybe this is a pop quiz and he's supposed to talk to her. rafael glances over to yazmin beside him and looks away. he really really really doesn't want to. but, he clears his throat, glances over at her a couple of times and pretends to have suddenly noticed her. "oh, oh? oh ! hey ! uh . . . . hey . . . . ! wow. long time no see . . . you . . . what a coincidence, the both of us seeing each other again, here, of all places, ahahah . . . "

[leschanceux]

@firstscn asked “the room's spinning.” -

yeah, the room's not supposed to do that. rafael catches alex by his elbow, steering the kid towards the comfortable chair in his office, lest he trip and fall and raf has to call oscar to come take his kid to the emergency room. "have you been drinking?" he can't smell anything on alex's breath, but that really doesn't mean shit these days. "alex?" patting the younger man's cheeks, raf bends to check his eyes, presses the back of his hand against alex's forehead to check his temperature. "focus on me, okay? have you been drinking? when was the last time you ate?"

[batmanbeyondrocks]

Rafael Leão and Moise Kean

Credit: Footballer Fits (@footballerfits)

[aquamanandfriends]

City Sights [Rafael/Carmen]

@thestoriesincoffeestains

Raffy couldn't help but smile so brightly as he recorded Carmen dancing by the fountain. They had one day off before they needed to really practice and then compete, so he'd convinced Carmen they could borrow coach's rental car and explore. When else would they have the chance to really see Japan? "And now the spin," Raffy directed with a chuckle.

[damianesco]

STATUS: closed for @rafaelmoldonado LOCATION: jason's house, evening

That’s the tenth movie Damian hasn’t had the attention span to finish today — keeps adding to the Netflix queue, which he knows is only going to annoy Jason. He hates it when Damian’s indecisive. Says it’s not attractive for a grown man not to know what he wants. Last time Damian had said ‘whatever you want’ to Jason’s posed question of what they should have for dinner, he stopped speaking to Damian for three days.

He’s Googling how to delete titles from the ‘continue watching’ list on the television when the doorbell rings. Glancing up in surprise, Damian can’t help but hesitate for a second — he hadn’t ordered anything. Jason hasn’t said anything about expecting a package. It could be a salesman, or a neighbor. He doesn’t have access to the Ring camera — the notification will have gone to Jason’s phone, but he doesn’t immediately text Damian about what to do. He’ll either be angry if he opens the door, or be angry if he doesn’t; he figures it makes more sense if he does the latter after the doorbell rings again, and Jason still doesn’t reach out to him about it.

Standing from the couch, he makes his way to the front door, leaning in to gaze through the peephole — only to feel his stomach sink at the sight of the man standing at the door. It’s Rafael, looking as solemn as ever, yet far more put-together than Damian is. He looks down at himself — a red tank, sauce-stained sweats, mismatched socks — never mind that he doesn’t think he’s brushed his teeth since his last meal. He’s lucky he hasn’t had a drink yet; he was going to, as soon as he found something to watch, and, fuck, fuck — how did Raf even find him?

He twists both locks to the left and opens the door, extremely aware of the Ring camera pointed right at Rafael. He thinks it’s a bad idea to start with how did you find me — that’d be an immediate red flag, if Jason watches this later. He sets all motion interactions to record. “Raf,” he greets him, a little stoically. Any more emotion in his voice, Jason’ll surely pick up on it and pick it apart. “Can I help you?” 

[radicalrascals]

Open: y/m has to bail Rafael out of police custody; maybe he was trespassing for a story or got in a fight with someone or got too drunk Looking for: friend, lover (f only), colleague, enemy who wants Rafa to owe them a favour, anything (can be mundane or supernatural) Muse: Rafael Moreira da Silva, journalist | fc: Wagner Moura

"Oh." All of a sudden that last glimmer of relief that he felt upon being released from police custody evaporated into shameful nothingness. Rafael tugged at the collar of his crumpled shirt in a vain attempt to regain at least a sliver of his dignity, before he addressed his saviour: "I didn't expect you here. Please. Just let me explain."

[inxspacetime]

❝ I just killed off what was left of the optimist in me. ❞

｡:*STATS<>

NAME: Rafael Vito D'Amico NICKNAME(S): Raf AGE: 28 BIRTHDAY/ZODIAC: December 1st, Sagittarius BIRTHPLACE: Harlem, NY CURRENT LOCATION: Santa Monica, NY OCCUPATION: Barista HAIR COLOR: Dark brown EYE COLOR: Brown HEIGHT: Five foot eight (5'8'') OTHER NOTED FEATURES: A tattoo going down his spine, as well as one under the right side of his ribcage. +: Calm -: Reclusive ｡:*<TRIVIA>

Loves to art. He’s (for the most part) self-taught on various mediums, but prefers to paint.

A fan of horror, the occult, and just about anything unusal and/or spooky. And almost always has been.

An introvert. He’s quiet, normally keeps to himself when he isn’t behind the counter. He doesn’t completely isolate himself, but it does take a bit of effort to drag him out of his apartment. He’s sensitive, but not overly emotional (not because he bottles his feelings up or anything…).

Owns a black cat named Luna that he treats like a princess.

Faceclaims are Zach Tinker and Santiago Segura.

｡:*<>LINKS

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[taliah-tezel]

Location: Firehouse Tag: @rafmorata

"You did good today," walking over to Rafaele at the end of the shift, she offers a smile. "It's good to see that scaffolding didn't compromise your skillset." Taliah shrugged on her jacket. "Jokes aside, I'm really glad you're ok. You had me worried for a while." It had to be said, she wanted him to know she valued him as much as the other team members, caring about each of them like she would her own blood. "I'll swing for a couple drinks and plate of nachos if you don't have other plans?" She was going either way and so, thought it would be nice to extend an invitation.