#1000yd

[dbaa-a]

@1000yd

Barry’s a total sadsack. You just get this energy off him, like he’s never gonna be happy. And god, that’s so hopelessly fucking tragic to even think about for another person, but it’s making me feel better just sitting next to him, cos I feel like I have more of a chance now.

Not with him. With – being happy. God that’s depressing. Although, you know what, he’s tall, he’s got arms, he’s got a jawline, he’s got a not-unsubstantial arse. Potential rebound?

“That top looks nice on you.”

Don’t look at me like that. He was asking for fashion advice the other day.

[bunburie-blog]

@1000yd

     “So I just have like a couple notes.”

     “Like, it was great, so good. And like, inspiring and everything, definitely, for sure. Forsure-forsure.”

     “But also in a way I feel like it was bad? Like, it was a bad performance? In a way? And I was just wondering if that was on purpose.”

[jrbev]

@1000yd

          “Oh. No. This isn’t an acting class. It’s, uh, group therapy. The counselor apparently paid some, he paid some old man to use this space for an hour. Actually, I don’t even know if you can legally call this group therapy. He--the uh, the guy--only ever says, you know, ‘this is a life changing seminar’. Like, really, suspiciously careful with the language he uses about, uh, all this. Like, he may just be some guy? Uuuh. He’s a cool dude! Cool dude. I think, and I’m realizing this as I say it, he may, in fact, be an acting coach teaching bummed out people how to not be so, you know, bummed? Wow. That kind of sounds bad, right? You can totally join, though. In his defense, he runs good exercises.”  A beat as Bev’s eyes tick up while he briefly reflects on past session activities: partner mirroring, expressing feelings through interpretative movement, self monologuing.  “Yeah he is for sure some dude, some actor dude. Uh. I’m Bev, by the way.”

[quickdrawy-blog]

@1000yd​ liked

Tim gets a call. It’s near enough to midnight that he’d been halfway towards actually sleeping, so when he answers the phone he’s verging on groggy and blunt alongside it. It takes him half a minute to actually figure out what he’s being asked, if he knows a Barry Berkman. He does know a Barry Berkman, but his brain needs a few seconds to sort through itself and find that information.

By the time he gets up and ready and drives out to the local PD that picked Barry up, he’s collected himself enough that none of this makes any sense. Before he’d been clammed up with a dim, half-asleep acceptance, Barry being caught somewhere he shouldn’t be and dropping Tim’s name like a hotcake. Now, Barry being caught somewhere he shouldn’t be is a fact that’s snagged itself in him like a door handle around knit fabric, yanking him back a few steps.

He makes up some bullshit excuse to scoop Barry out without charges – something about calling in a few favours, and the lot wasn’t owned by anyone anyway, and there’s nobody to really press charges, and he didn’t actually break anything, did he, so really it was just the entering half, and isn’t this America, a free country – and walks him out to his truck. He’s running on a few beers, but with the exception of what he does during the day at work, he’s always driving on a couple. It’s fine – he’s used to it.

He’s a few minutes away from the building before he says, lightly, “So what the hell was that all about?”

[hydroxise]

“If I go home now and then I read in the newspaper tomorrow that you died I’ll feel like shit that I left, so I’m gonna stick around.”

meme night

‘Nice thought, wouldn’t happen. You wanna stick around, you’ll have to go down to the basement with the rest,’ it’s called playing hard to get and Tyler is a champion at it. Still, he could’ve slammed the door in Barry’s face and he hasn’t.

[hydroxise]

“I got a bunch of stuff. Pocket knife, tweezers, sewing kit, gauze. They didn’t have rubbing alcohol and they don’t sell hard liquor, so I got you this loverly Chard.”

meme night

‘You can keep the green smoothie shit,’ Tyler says, he won’t bother telling Barry not to try making one in this house. The blenders, all three, have been used for making soap and are clogged and dirty in the sink. ‘Keep the rest, too. Ought to wear anything you get here as a badge of honour.’

He thinks for a moment, distracting himself from Barry by lighting a cigarette. Tyler holds his hand out, ‘gimme the knife.’

[boldead]

@1000yd

It’s an awful cheap place but the quality doesn’t match that. Someone’s best kept secret. ‘Imagine if we hadn’t run into each other,’ Jim pops a piece of bloody steak into his mouth, ‘I expect you would have caught the first plane you could afford.’

[sacricide-blog]

“Can we just stay in here a while? Just you and me?”

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 · 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

     There’s not a cloud in the sky today and the warmth is oppressive, a dry heat. One of the last clear, hot days of summer, before everything yellows and turns autumnal. Barry was only supposed to be here for dinner, an invitation extended by his father, but bringing him here early made more sense, to get the lay of the land. Michael had been counting on the place being relatively quiet, but of course it never is. Fredo has been doggedly trailing around after them ever since Barry got through the gates, determined to show him a good time, wanting to ply him with drinks and snacks and show him the lay of the land. They lost him in the kitchen, although it’s been hard to find somewhere quiet with Sonny’s children running rampant and the steady buzz of activity increasing as people arrive. Verging on desperate, Michael finds himself leading Barry upstairs, conspicuously passing over the door to his father’s study which is shut in the face of the low rumbling of conversation behind the wood, to the bedroom he’d only had for a few years before he’d moved out for college. It’s plain, largely unadorned except for a framed Renoir original on the wall above his bed. He strides over to the window and opens it wide.

     “Fredo will get over himself. He just likes new things, people. He’s like a magpie that way, he likes things that shine.” Leaning against the wall by the window, Michael folds his arms across his chest and quirks his lips at one corner in a flat smile. It doesn’t offend him, that Barry is asking for a moment’s peace. He’s often wanted for it. “I bet you’re regretting coming.”