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regrettablewritings · 6 years

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Dios Meme-o! (Rafael Barba Mini-Series, Pt. 6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8

Frankly, it had to have been when Lucia got involved that Rafael knew things were going too far. Even Carmen of all people was beginning to join in on the fun! (While Rafael really did appreciate the cup of coffee waiting for him when he came into work that morning, but did she really have to include the receipt bearing the name “Abo-guapo”?) And all at once, it appeared that the dam keeping his cohorts in SVU at bay had buckled under pressure – and the typhoon of fresh, new memes.

The initial, unspoken agreement had been to not bring up memes around Rafael or to laugh about them in his presence. But it didn’t take long for Sonny to throw caution straight into the garbage and use the technical loophole of sending him his latest finds (though, always making sure to precede them with at least one contribution to the case). It didn’t take long for the likes of Fin, Rollins, and even Liv every once in a while, to follow suit in some way shape or form.

By the end of the third week of this madness, Rafael swore he’d seen it all: Gifs of him from the press conference, pastel edits (causing him to wonder what the significance of flower crowns even was), more crude comments about his hand veins and midsection pudge, photo compilations of himself in his attire from previous acclaimed cases. Every once in a while, he’d even receive a screenshot wherein somebody had clearly photoshopped themselves into a picture with him. These were interestingly enough some of the images that caused Rafael the most concern, seeing as they weren’t even using decent photos for their apparent intentions: Were they really supposed to look like a power couple, with him so clearly focused on the press and not by their clumsily Photoshopped-in figure standing behind him? They looked more like prosecutor and client than anything.

What, more gifs of him before the press? Wait, these ones had captions edited into them. Oh, hell, what do they say?

Rafael Barba: I am here to address the rumors that have been circling about. I’ll be upfront: Yes, (Y/N) and I have been seeing each other. No, we are not dating – we’ve recently become engaged. I’ve loved her for many years in secrecy, and it shouldn’t be a crime to want something beautiful in this harsh life –

“Ugh.” Rafael all but retched as he x-ed out of the newest link from Rollins. He glared once more at the message she’d written in the email:

When were you gonna tell us that you were betrothed, Barba? I’m sure we would’ve understood the harshness of your life ;).

The lawyer sighed heavily through his nose as he pressed against his forehead. Rollins had given him some crucial information yesterday, so he couldn’t completely hound on her for slacking off. Yet. But god, was his already thin patience eroding at a rapid rate.

By noon, just as he’d calmed down from the eerie feeling of being shipped with other real-life people, another message came through. This time, to his surprise, from Liv.

He rose a brow. No words; just a link. This could’ve gone one of two ways: Bad, or very bad. He knew better than to do anything about the message, and honestly should have just deleted it on site. But alas, curiosity was such a destructive trait of man, enough so as to overwhelm his sense of self-preservation out of grotesque intrigue. With the click of his laptop mouse, Rafael at least had an answer as to which direction this would go down in: It was a Buzzfeed article, so that meant very bad.

“ ‘Check Out the Attorney Everyone Wants to Call’ ” it read. Before he could stop his eyes from searching the page for more info, he found himself reading the embarrassing excuse for an article:

The NYPD’s specialized squad, the Special Victims Unit, has had more than its fair share of rough roads. But luckily, they have a secret weapon:

Below lay a gif of Rafael stepping up to the podium on that fateful day where his looks would break the Internet. Inside of his own mind, Rafael screamed for gif-Rafael to retreat and run away before it was too late. Obviously, gif-Rafael persisted, over and over in an endless loop that would reset itself the moment he settled himself at the pedestal.

Meet ADA Rafael Barba. He’s been with the 16th precinct for four years, and he’s managed to make quite a splash for all of them. But let’s be real, it’s not just his smarts and courtroom prowess that the Internet has been talking about these last couple of days . . .

The next image was a photograph of Rafael mid-speech and even he had to admit: The angling was just right. The lighting and shadows worked together to properly define his profile in such an appealing way. It was a photo capable of damning a man.

It turns out that ADA Barba is actually one Harvard-educated hottie!

The accompanying picture came from one of Rafael’s previous cases. One wherein his stance atop the courthouse steps looked artistically posed. With one foot still planted on a step higher than the other, briefcase clutched in one hand, suit tailored to fit, eyes looking elsewhere. Amateur modeling photographers would’ve been proud. To anyone else, he would have looked like those grand oil paintings depicting a conquering hero, the gleaming sunlight only serving to further this victorious suggestion. Even the tweet that the image came attached with went as far as to say, “LOOK AT THIS MAJESTIC MF.”

While visually this might have been the case (especially assuming he’d just exited the courthouse after a victorious trial), the reality was more likely that he had been contemplating getting pho for dinner and was trying to remember the name of that one noodle house a couple of blocks away. The article went on:

No, seriously, if sexiness was a crime, this man would be guilty as charged!

Rafael couldn’t help but lift a brow at this. A law pun? Really? Hadn’t there been enough of those? He scrolled down further, his eyes first catching the image of him being surrounded by the press.

Because of the nature of his job (and hopefully single personal life), there aren’t too many photos of him for us to draw on. But don’t worry: The press has given the Internet just enough fodder to work with.

The image of him at arraignment court prior to the prolific AJ Martin case was posted, courtesy of the blue hellhole that was Tumblr. It was taken predominately from behind, given the position of the press at the time but from the way his head was turned, Rafael’s profile was made just noticeable enough for the original poster to freak out: “He could peck my eye out with that nose and I would thank him for it so long as he left me the other eye to still see him with.” The hashtags visible, aside from his name and title, included #dat profile doe, #LAWD, #such a noble nose, and #seriously tho that profile is perf i need to use it as reference for my art project.

Rafael could feel his teeth digging into his lips as they tucked themselves into his mouth. For a split second, he wondered if he was subconsciously trying to swallow himself.

Some people are drawn to him for his eyes, the article read, offering an example in an enhanced photo of Rafael that managed to capture his eyes just enough to show that they weren’t an expected brown, but an enchanting green. Having been a tweet, the post’s source expressed that Rafael’s eyes “made them weak.”

Some just can’t get over this guy’s designer duds, it went on. Beneath the text was a small photoset of four pictures: Each one of Rafael, of course, but each one also had him sporting vastly different color themes. In this one, springtime pink accessories stuck out against the darkness of his pinstriped suit. In that one, yet another dark suit . . . But orange was, in the grand scheme, quite the unusual color to be seen on most lawyers. Even in tie form. The third photo had been taken as he was leaving the courthouse, the billowing wind allowing for the yellow streak of his tie to flutter about, as well as to showcase that even his suspenders were brightly colored. And in the fourth one, purple. Everywhere. Maybe not in the charcoal grey of his suit jacket, but definitely in the primary color of his polka dotted tie, the lines running up and down his dress shirt, and the lightly-checkered pattern of his pocket square.

To say that these were mighty unusual colors to be found in the courtroom (and on an attorney for such horrific situations, no less) would be an understatement.

And others? They’re finding completely different assets to be won over by! (All perfectly wonderful in their own right, of course.)

These “assets”, apparently, were his stomach and hands (surprise, surprise). Or, perhaps more specifically, the pudginess of his stomach and the veins that lined his hands, as suggested not only by Rafael’s own experience, but by the corresponding images for that particular line: Some of the very same posts he’d seen at the very beginning. The post about wanting to slurp up his hand veins, enthusiasm over his tummy-embellishing suspenders . . . It all came rushing back to Rafael with an internal shudder.

But apparently, not all of the images were of him: The next textual segment (But whichever physical attribute people have found themselves drawn to, one thing is for certain: They help make one clean-cut counselor) was followed by the image of a tan, cartoon fist popping out of a yellow sweater sleeve. The tweet it had come from included the words, “When you catch feelings for the perfect man but he’s a goddamn lawyer.” Rafael almost wanted to feel upset by the comment, but there was just too much about it to figure out what all to be peeved with.

Many are willing to risk it all for this Manhattan heartbreaker, the article proclaimed, their evidence coming in the form of a Twitter post stating exactly that. It was a photograph taken at a gala (God, it had to have been long ago, then), and Rafael just happened to be in just enough of the photo for the dapperness of his appearance to pop. In the background, however, was a man (whom Rafael recognized as a judge) with an expression that could easily be mistaken for subtle lusting. Of course, Judge Khachaturian was actually probably looking in Rafael’s general direction and likely at a woman off camera. But the Internet didn’t know that. Or rather, the Internet didn’t care to consider that.

The caption lining the top of the picture stated that “old man finna risk it all for Barba 😂😂😂.” This, of all things, caused Rafael’s mouth to hang open with shock. The idea of his superior (and much older superior at that) lusting after him left a bad taste in his mouth. But with one last line to go . . .

But don’t worry: We’re sure he can use his smarts to get you out of it.

Simple, yes, but considering all that Rafael had to go through just to get to it, the cocktail of feelings within him was still quite present.

“Oh . . .” Rafael whispered shakily as he watched the gif version of himself raise a hand and retreat from the podium at the press conference. Despite the ridiculousness of the suggestion, his mind screamed at the gif, Now you leave!? His ever hungry but scowling eyes couldn’t help themselves from scanning the comments section below. Lot of Spanish terms being thrown around there by people who probably only knew them from the Latin Lover craze from the early 2000s. Like June Madoff’s comment on how he was such a “precinct papi”, or Barbra Cassahan, with her suburban mom-ness, having the creepy, middle-aged audacity to call him a “papi choulo.” (Which, Rafael thought in his tempered bitterness and attention to the misspell, was probably the most out of her comfort zone she was willing to travel.)

There was also Celia Esposito calling him “Barbaro Barba”, but he really wasn’t sure how comfortable he was being called a badass under such circumstances by a high schooler, creativity behind the nickname be damned.

But then . . . there was Julia “JuJuBean” Parson: “My friend’s sister sat in the gallery during the Jocelyn Paley case where ADA Barba was defending Jocelyn against Adam Cain. Y’all, she said Barba won the case by letting Cain choke him with his motherfucking *belt*!”

And, for the first time since this entire escapade began, Rafael couldn’t help but feel true a hint of pride. After all, it was by letting Cain choke him at all that he was able to convince the jury to plead guilty and send that bastard to jail where he belonged. He was honestly quite pleased with that little daring stunt, considering how worth it it was to experience such a dangerous discomfort. But even more so, he was just glad that someone had looked past the more superficial traits that everyone else was adoring in order to focus on something more important: His job and the crazy things he did to perform it.

. . . But then he read the replies to it: “OMFG” and “choke me, daddy 😩😩😩!” And those were just the ones he could see without clicking “see more replies.”

At that, Rafael’s eyelids practically retreated back into his skull as his eyes popped more than he even knew themselves capable of doing. The loud clap of his laptop being shut closed resonated within the office, followed by huffy breaths of embarrassment. He could feel his face burning. Of all the implied fetishes and kinks he’d seen centering about him, the use of the belt to choke him was an entirely new one, and one that he could very easily proclaim he had no desire to try again.

ENOUGH!!!

A ragged sigh was released into the air as Rafael pinched the bridge of his nose. Probably harder than he even needed to, anyway. He regarded the time ticking by in the corner of his laptop screen. It was still too early to start sipping bourbon like tomorrow was a dream, but not too early to grab a bite and pop a tablet or two of ibuprofen. Not necessarily what he was in the mood for, but it was a start. Anything to get away from his laptop, which he now deep down felt had been completely sullied by now from all the meme trash he had to view upon it.

Grabbing his phone and wallet, he exited his office and made Carmen aware that he was going on his lunch break. As he headed for the elevator, he could’ve sworn that he’d caught a glimpse of the Buzzfeed article on her computer. He fought against the urge to shake his head in somberness: He’d officially lost her; she was too far gone into the rabbit hole to pull her out of it. Exiting the Hogan Place, Rafael felt alone amongst the crowded streets of Manhattan.

#that bastard meme fic #regrettablewritings #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba imagines #barba imagine #barba imagines #svu imagine #svu imagines #law and order svu imagines #law and order svu imagine #law & order svu imagines

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backwardspalindrome · 7 years

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so here’s what’s been going on with me lately (this is a long post with a lot of rambling, sorry):

1. i haven’t been using this blog like at all. the last posts were from pretty early in my first semester at college. once i got through that initial hard part of getting used to the university environment, my life has been incredible. here’s a couple sub-points:

1a) i started hormone therapy (spiro tablets and an estradiol patch) in january. actually started on friday, january 13th which is beautiful and i love it. that also means that my 5 month anniversary is the day before my birthday this month. but that’s stuff you probably know from my tumblr and twitter.

1b) i really started to connect with a few people at college and now i have a better grasp of who i can trust and who i can turn to. that’s a weird and bad way of putting it, but it’s important that i know those things.

1c) i also started doing more with my online friends like cole and jack. in fact, i am now officially the Founder of something - i run a podcast network along with cole that’s shaping up to be pretty good. again, keep an eye on my twitter and tumblr.

1d) in the few weeks leading up to finals and summer break, i met a transfem person on okcupid in springfield. (she had “trans woman” on her bio when we found each other on the app, but i guess that’s no longer fully accurate. i haven’t asked her about labels or even pronouns yet because i’m a bad person.) her name is leslie and she is just stunningly gorgeous. we like a lot of the same things and we were kinda talking really vaguely about maybe having some kind of not-just-platonic relationship. i met up with her face-to-face for the first time just a couple days before i left for summer break. i like her a lot, but distance is hard and i get paranoid easily.

2. this brings me to the problem, and the reason i’m back on this blog after so long. i had to move back to tipton for summer break. i couldn’t find any internship or job or summer class to keep me in springfield so now i’m back in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do and no one to see. and it’s tearing me back down again. here come the sub-points.

2a) i came out to my parents about a year ago. the day before i moved to springfield, actually. my sister told me that it would help if i gave them some kind of expectation or directive - something they could do to show support. i asked them to use my name and my pronouns when we were alone. just in private, not a big task, and i made sure that they knew i wasn’t expecting perfection. my mother has used my name one time in the year since. my dad has not. neither have used my pronouns. i tried to confront them about this the other day. their reasoning boiled down to: well, we have some problems with how you act at home and so we’re not going to give you the basic respect of name and pronouns. fuck, i’m being reductive but they literally brought up how i don’t refill water jugs or how i don’t like eating with other people. during the conversation i was trying to have about my pronouns. they brought up other things that i feel are part of me being somewhat autistic (that’s a separate conversation). my mother said to me that when she thinks of trying to say my name out loud, it makes her want to throw up. she said that to my face. and i’m the one who has to change my behavior.

2b) there’s no one here. in college, i had easy access to my college friends (who are actually pretty good at handling heavy topics), my online friends, support groups, and my counselor. if i felt something and i needed to talk about it, 80% of the time i had someone willing to talk with me. now i have my online friends and that’s it. i can’t talk about anything with my parents, i have no friends in tipton, and there’s not a single community within 30 miles of here where i could actually belong. there’s no lgbt center in tipton, there’s no pride celebrations in tipton, there’s no group counseling in tipton, there’s no therapists in tipton. the only thing i can do with my emotions is let them fester in my head.

2c) i’ve always felt negatively about tipton. my entire life i’ve hated this piece of shit town and everything around it, about it, and in it. i’m starting to think that my attitude of hating the physical place of tipton also started to apply to how i feel about my experiences being in the closet. all of the worst things in my life - being closeted, my bad relationship with my parents, my inability to find friends, the lack of resources - they all are tied to this town. that’s why it was so easy for me to adjust to springfield. i was ecstatic to leave the town where i had to endure 17 years of psychological harm. that’s maybe part of the reason i felt so good for so long in springfield too. i left everything bad behind. and now, i’m back. and all those 17 years and all those bad experiences just sat here in tipton and waited for me. add to that the fact that apparently my parents were fostering more resentment than i thought about the fact that i never wanted to come home. for me, tipton is everything wrong about the world in one place. if you were to make a community built on willful ignorance, it would be named tipton, missouri. my primary goal in life is to never have to be in tipton ever again. but here i am.

i think i’m done with the points and sub-points now, but now we’ve made it to my big fear right now and the reason i started writing this post in the first place. i think i might be slipping back into the tipton headspace. i went back to dressing more like i used to (old t-shirts, sweatpants). my dysphoria - while thankfully not as bad as it used to be - is coming back. the ever-present fear that i forgot was part of the atmosphere of tipton is back. ever since i got here, i haven’t been able to stop comparing my life during college to my life now. the main thing is that in college, i was actually happy. i was happy most of the time. i was happy in a general way that touched every part of my life. i realized this sometime in second semester.

see, i used to do this obnoxious depressive-nihilist-millenial thing where every time i crossed the street i’d make a half-joke in my head about getting hit by a car. it takes different forms, but i think you know what i’m talking about. sometime in second semester i crossed a street, saw a car, and had that thought about getting hit. and then immediately, i realized that no - no, i don’t want to die. that was the first time i ever remember having the explicit thought “i don’t want to die”. i felt like i had a future for the first time in my life. when i began to fully understand what that moment was for me, it was one of the most terrifying and the most liberating realizations of my entire life. liberating, because i recognized that there was a possible future where i could live as myself and be happy. terrifying, because i realized all at once that i should have had that feeling before, and tipton stole it away from me.

i described it to my counselor like this: tipton is a bubble, and it has an insidious way of making the people inside it think there’s nothing else in the world but tipton. tipton contains everything, and it’s not possible for someone to need something that tipton doesn’t have. remember how i said earlier that tipton has no lgbt centers, no theatres, no therapy? when you’re in tipton, you can’t need those things. nobody needs those things. what even is it that you think you need? those things don’t exist. you don’t need therapy, you just need to suck it up. why aren’t you like everyone else?

that’s what tipton did to me. and that’s what it’s trying to do to me again. i noticed today that my brain seems to have gone back to being depressed more often than not. but now i know there are other things than this god-forsaken hellhole. tipton is what drove me two steps from attempting suicide. i will burn the entire god damned place to the ground before i let it do that to me again. i don’t know how i’m going to avoid all this shit. i just know that i can’t let tipton destroy me for a second time.

i don’t have a game plan. all i have is this. i’m writing this on thursday. tomorrow i work. saturday i’m coming out to my grandparents. sunday, i’m coming out to my uncle. these are the people that my parents told me i need to talk to in person before i can come out on facebook. my public coming out will be at midnight on my birthday - wednesday. i want every obscure relative and forgotten acquaintance to see this post when they try to wish me a half-hearted happy birthday. i’m gonna spend the following two days dealing with the aftermath. i have no plans after that, but i think once i come out publicly i’ll be able to fight back more effectively. i’m going to rip control of my life out of the hands of this town and then i’m going to be the most important force in my life again.

i started this post because i felt sad and helpless about what tipton was doing to me. but for the first time, writing shit on this blog has actually helped me. all of this post boils down to what could be described as my supervillain origin story: this town ruined me once. now, i’m going to make it kneel before me.

#long post #long-ass post

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