#i was fully prepared for a a press conference about a whole lotta nothing

[allpromarlo]

GREG ROMAN IS NO LONGER THE RAVENS OC

[regrettablewritings]

Dios Meme-o! (Rafael Barba Mini-Series, Pt. 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Pro: The Internet allowed for information to travel fast. Con: The Internet can cause unwanted information to travel fast. Too fast.

Rafael knew better than to be surprised that the rest of the SVU crew had learned about his newfound notoriety online. With chatterbox Carisi and none-too-shy Fin, it was only a matter of time, with or without the Internet. But it was still a deep-seated hope that they would at least be more discreet about it. At the very least, Rollins and Carisi would be over it by now, Fin would crack maybe one or two jokes before dropping it, and Liv would just be passive about it after maybe a single attempt at a joke. And that would be that, hopefully.

Unfortunately for Rafael, his hope was a little too deep-seated for the squad to fully fulfill it. Especially so soon after the “rise of the Raphiles”, as Rollins had taken to calling it. The day after it had all begun, Rafael entered the precinct with every intention of doing exactly as he had before: Listen in on the interrogation, draw up some conclusions, hear what everyone else had to say (if anything), and leave. Nothing more, nothing less.

“So, Barba,” Liv began. The ADA slowed his departure to turn around. The moment he registered the inkling of a smirk on the woman’s face, Rafael knew that he had made a grave mistake. “I take it that you’ve gained a new title, right?”

He could feel his cheeks beginning to subtly burn. He was preparing to open his mouth with an objection to Liv’s claim, but it was too late: “Counselor Cutiepie, right? You think Carisi will remember to call you that from now on?”

From his desk, the man in question all too eagerly waltzed up beside his lieutenant.

“Might be a challenge,” Carisi grinned, hands cockily poised in his pockets. “I mean, I’ve been hearing that it’s ‘Pretty-Boy Barba’ now.” Inside his own head, Rafael was thinking about how Carisi’s extra three inches on him meant squat, and that he could most definitely manage to find a way to discreetly elbow him in the gut and get away with it. Outside of his head, his expression maintained exactly those feelings. Nevertheless, the chiding didn’t even so much as reduce in the slightest.

“At least he’s got a name,” Fin spoke from his own desk, pretending to still be preoccupied with his computer screen. “Last I checked, he was just ‘that one hot attorney.’ At least, according to Twitter.”

At the mention of that site, Rafael’s burning face nearly paled. He may not have had much knowledge of Tumblr, but Twitter? He knew far too much about that site.

“I’m . . . on Twitter?” he sputtered. He had to remind himself not to clutch at his heart, lest he worsen the already embarrassing situation. Fin nodded, forcing the obvious smile he’d been nursing down into as much of a neutral expression as he possibly could.

“Mmhm,” Fin nodded. He then clicked over to an already-open tab, something that told Rafael that the seasoned detective had just been waiting in the wings to pull this one out. “Whole lotta lusty men and women after you, Counselor.”

The curiosity was far too compelling. Rafael had to at least catch a glimpse of what was being said:

The image of Rafael being addressed by the press, decked out in his usual attire, plus a theme of indigo in his tie and the lines streaking along his shirt: “Ngl ADA Barba can get it,” @Boysenberryivy admitted.

A different picture, but of his retreating form, caught in between footsteps so that his backside had a certain curve to it: “Move to strike dat ass 👀👋💥🍑” @GhostiewiththeToasty proclaimed.

A photo from a while ago, wherein Rafael stood to the side as the DA spoke at his own press conference. He personally thought he looked rather unassuming, wearing a rather unextraordinary suit with a typical blue tie and pocket square. But apparently some people on the world wide web thought otherwise: “uh objection: not in my bed!!!” @PJJigggler69 exclaimed, as though using a legal term would have made them seem any better.

@bellybean included a gif not of Rafael, but of a close-up on a perplexed-looking blonde woman: “This man ain’t got no business looking this fine and being a cotdamn lawyer dafuq.”

“Suits got me shook,” @MochaChinna said, referring to a photoset that documented at least five screengrabs of Rafael in various suits from the press conferences and court cases of the past.

And those were just the tip of the iceberg. His shock didn’t allow for him to notice Rollins’ appearance at his side.

“Oh, hey, look at this one,” she said nonchalantly. She extended a finger to point both Fin and Rafael in the right direction.

“ ‘Prosecutor Papi!! In-dick-t me!!! I’ve been a bad girl 😣”

Rafael’s open mouth began to open and close like a goldfish. To be fair, he was feeling just as lost as one. He wanted to scream.

“. . . That . . . That isn’t . . . That’s not how ‘papi’ should be used,” was all that managed to be processed in that time.

Fin crooked a finger over his lips in a poor attempt to hide his amusement. “Well, maybe you can start another press conference, Counselor,” he offered. “I’m sure they’ll hang on to your every word.” Rafael shot him a reproachful look.

Before he could even muster up the energy to compose a response – how pointless it would have been to do that, the stupidity of even humoring such an idea at all – Rollins cut in once again.

“Yeah. Or they’ll hang onto your suspenders.” She eyeballed yet another godawful tweet. Rafael barely had the time or patience to read it for himself (though he did manage to make out that it had something to do with, yet again, plucking his suspenders or making him out to be a stripper – one or the other).

He offered a glare (that was far too pouty due to his rampant blushing), huffily gathered his things, and shot the SVU squad one last glower as he began to depart. “If we’re done here, can we please act like adults and do our goddamn jobs?” It was only after that sentence’s delivery that he realized how much of this he was allowing to effect himself. In an effort to at least pathetically roll the dial back, he forced a sense of calm: “Thank you.” There was a hint of quiver in it. Probably from tension born of holding back his irritation.

His walk to the elevator was notedly stiffer than usual. The doors hadn’t even closed completely when the sound of Sonny’s laughter cut through the air, making the quiet, boring ride down uncharacteristically frustrating in more ways than what Rafael was used to.