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“All I need to know is when I can take him home.” She’s tired, stressed out. She doesn’t have time for this shit. But she isn’t going to leave him here either. She’ll have to pick up some extra shifts - after having to dip into the squirrel fund for this. Now, if only they could cooperate and just give her some fucking information, she could get shit done.

#starter #v: svu #miisterbarba

// @miisterbarba is getting the thing

It had, for all intents and purposes, been a very rough night. His rent was overdue, the usual money having been blown on hard drugs, an attempt to NUMB himself to his own misery. Fin’s landlord had been threatening eviction for almost two weeks now, and he’d been trying to make fast cash the only way he knew how: selling his body to strangers. He’d never enjoyed doing it, but he was quite good (he probably undercharged, too- the prices Fin went for were rather cheap) and it brought in money when he needed it badly. Of course, though, tonight of all nights, the cops had found and arrested him. To make matters worse, Fin had had almost three hundred buck’s worth of ecstasy on him. If it hadn’t been for the drugs, he probably could have talked his way out of this situation.

They kept asking his name, and Fin kept refusing to say a word. The last time he’d been in a police station, it had been after he’d attempted to murder his stepfather when he was fifteen. Just being in this position again, wrists in cuffs, bright lights hurting his tired eyes, had Fin in shut-down mode. He wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t make eye contact. He just wanted to go home and sleep, really.

Maybe this would be easier if he carried identification in his wallet, but he didn’t. Maybe, you know, if he did he could be IDENTIFIED. He wasn’t even sure why he never had. If he wound up dead, it was unlikely that anyone but his dealer, his boss and maybe his landlord could identify his body- Finley barely saw anyone else. Instead of ID, the contents of his wallet were simple; two hundred in cash (payment from an earlier customer tonight), a coupon to a pizza delivery hotline, and a worn business card for one Rafael Barbra. Even though he was no longer in contact with the man in question- in fact, Fin wasn’t even sure if Rafael was still in business, much less at the number on the card- he always had it with him. Perhaps out of sentimentality. Either way, though, it was the only thing that Fin had on his body that the police found potentially useful, and he watched helplessly as an officer outside of the room he was in dialed the number.

#miisterbarba #(here's the thing! lmk if you want anything changed)#(sorry it got a little bit lengthy; i wanted to set things up)

Happy Munday! I’m Victoria, but I go by Tori. Nursing Student. British. Don’t be a git, be a friend!

#miisterbarba #multiiitasked #fallingonbrokenarrows #carisiisms #lostcausex #preciousendings

"I'm sorry, have we met?"

“Not formally,” Elliot answers, looking the man over. “You’re the new ADA that works with Manhattan SVU, right?”

#miisterbarba

jay’s life was always filled with ups and downs -- the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. with rafi, he experienced those highs. jay was in love and it filled him with a sense of happiness that he never knew existed and as much as he tried to hide his demons, they always had a way of sneaking back up on him. he was just coming off a high; he won his first fight since his devastating loss against ryan. rafi had been there to watch him and he felt like he was finally on a good path in life. an unexpected path but one that just felt right.

a few days after his fight, he and his dad started to go at it. they were the last two at the gym and the sun had gone down. jay was eager to get back home to rafi but one snide, veiled remark from his dad pressed that hot button inside of him. low blows were thrown left and right until it came to physical blows. the appearance of lisa diffused the situation but jay was already spun out. he’s been trying to battle his own addictions and in his head, he’s done so well but all of that came crashing down.

problem was, jay had a little too much and he knew it. he could feel that something wasn’t right when the intensity of the high hit him. he sat there, slumped against ryan’s bathtub, feeling his heart pounding so quickly and he knew he fucked up. this wasn’t something he could recover from, he thought. rafi would see what a fucking mess he really was -- the mask would be gone and he’d see jay for what he really was. a junkie dead beat, just like his dad said he was.

“ you’re just like your mother... ”

jay pulled out his phone and looked at his background; rafi was smiling back at him and tears came to his eyes. in the background, he could barely hear ryan pounding on the door, telling him to let him in but jay couldn’t move.

“ you’re pissing everything away like you always do. ”

the phone slipped from his hand and jay was out like a sack of bricks, seemingly dead to the world as his heart rate started to decrease.

@miisterbarba

#// * rafi | miisterbarba #miisterbarba #drug tw

have you watched Craig's new stand up "Tickle Fight" on Netflix? Because it's balls to the wall amazing and I know how much you love C-Ferg. (StphnTyrnClbrt)

Yessssssss! 😍

Craig’s stand up basically gives me life, he’s so suited for it. I actually saw him do that set in NYC earlier this year (NYC so I could also go to a taping of LSSC lmao I’m so weak) and he was sooooo amazing

#ask #lovely people #miisterbarba