... 𝑏𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡 , dependent single muse blog affiliated with stonehavenfm, featuring tristyn ' buck ' buckley, as the stoner. written by foreign, twenty - six, she / they, est tmz.
... G-G-GETTIN' HIGH, YOU'RE UNBELIEVABLY HIGH !
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@buckshct
... 𝑏𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡 , dependent single muse blog affiliated with stonehavenfm, featuring tristyn ' buck ' buckley, as the stoner. written by foreign, twenty - six, she / they, est tmz.
... G-G-GETTIN' HIGH, YOU'RE UNBELIEVABLY HIGH !
[ ♱ ] : NEON CACTUS SALOON was not the type of establishment deirdre tended to frequent. she could probably count the amount of times she had stepped there in one hand—always under someone else's invitation, of course, one that rarely gets repeated when they realize how bad she is at darts plus her the look of surprise when they order more than one alcoholic beverage. while the entire town was frozen mysteriously in place, there was something particularly EERIE about the west side. the bustling streets now overtaken by an empty stillness, save for the carousel that seemed to still run on some sort of schedule. or at least that's what deirdre would like to think. the alternative theory—that the carousel was a bridge to the other side, where everyone else is—was something even deirdre wasn’t desperate enough to consider. yet.
the bar was a good enough place as any to look for clues. search for abnormalities ( outside of the glaringly obvious ), maybe a note left behind... anything that could explain WHAT HAPPENED to stonehaven. what deirdre doesn't expect to find is tristyn, standing behind the bar as if he owns the place, shameless in the way he can't even pretend to offer a lie about his actions. she furrows her bow at him. "you shouldn't be doing that." a phrase that has spilled past her lips only to uselessly land in his ears more times than either of them would care to admit. she doesn't move to close the distance between her and her cousin. instead, she follows the wall over to where the pool tables are, trying to suppress the shiver that threatens to crawl up her spine at the way the billiard balls are positioned... as if someone was in the middle of a game. she turns towards him once more, "seriously, tristyn. shouldn't you at least... leave money behind or something? i mean... what if they come BACK?" it's only been a couple of days. and while it seems that most of her peers have accepted the fact that they were stranded, deirdre couldn't help but hold out HOPE. as ridiculous as that may sound.
* of course she's the one to catch him. it always seems like she's on speed dial whenever he's up to no good, swears there has to be a sign over his head that reads ﹕ WHEN IN DOUBT, CONTACT DEIRDRE WU! she has witnessed his random acts of mischief more times than one, seemingly eager to be the chastising voice in his ear that tells him you're doing it all wrong! even through the calm that has settled over the abandoned bar, she is out of place. eyes drift back and forth between her and the bottle he still holds in his hand. it's a weird sight. a girl like her is far too good to even THINK of stooping to his level, even through their circumstances. that thought is enough to coax a laugh out of him, prompts his next words ﹕ ❛ why are you even here? ❜ cerulean hues narrow at deirdre as she scolds him from across the establishment. it's not the first time she's looked down her nose at him, he's certainly aware that it won't be the last. poor him, thinking he could saunter off to a small town and suddenly become a new person. REDEMPTION. as if he's not still the same person at his core, parading around like he's completely uprooted the foundations that built him into the guy he once was. the guy he still kind of is. the guy he's trying not to be? it's all the same anyways, because that's how the world views him. knows that's how deirdre still views him, like he's still that same wide-eyed boy who'd sneak beers with his older brothers ━ the boy who'd still tell her to shut up! and cut her hair if she got too close. he always felt akin to a SPECTACLE when around her ━ even in here and there moments spent together before contact stopped completely ━ he can still remember the way she'd tiptoe through their trailer, around their land, him and his family were animals put on display at the zoo to be gawked at. even as kid he could feel it, the contempt and disgust. until she and her mother had abruptly turned into distant strangers. heard from his mother that they had fucked off from florida to go one some EVANGELICAL WORLD TOUR, an exaggeration that tristyn was young enough to miss the sarcasm in. they became the side of the family no one really talked about. her dad, too, not like he was around much, seemed far too uppity to embrace the gaudiness of the buckleys. this continued far past jace's funeral, where he remained a no show even through the tragic circumstances. and tristyn has always hated him for that, just a bit. so in a way, that hate is extended to deirdre, trickles down onto her like a toxic substance. the hope that she seems to bare so brazenly has him laughing again, richer this time ━ like there's actually some humor to be found in her religious fueled delusions. WHAT IF THEY COME BACK? funny. ❛ so you're telling me that your bible - reading - ass really believes that the people who are mysteriously not here are just gonna ... mysteriously turn back up again? ❜ raises a single brow, as if he's actually inquiring. ❛ there's a ━ SCRIPTURE, about that, right? ❜ ❛ isn't this like, uhhhh ... the rapture? ❜ a scoff. ❛ shouldn't you be on an escalator to heaven right now? ❜
location ﹕ neon cactus saloon status ﹕ open to anyone. capped. [ 5/5 ]
* he can easily recall fragments of his recent memories in the bar, the once bustling vessel reduced to less than a fraction of what it previously was ﹕there is no more chatter and live music to be heard, only the constant droning of an electrical buzz insisting to be heard in the foreground. he is alone. no longer graced with the warm presence of a smiling face behind the bar, a chatty regular who relentlessly babbles about a story from their youth, none of the familiarity he's become accustomed to in the past year to be found. only ounces of alcohol left abandoned without a second thought. as beautiful as it may be, the warm rustic design he's grown to love offers nothing to the atmosphere when he's faced with the existential dread of loneliness. bars are supposed to be SOCIAL places! and that's made evident by the half-finished glasses of cocktails left scattered across the bar top, the ghostly reminder of the previous guests, guests who have strangely disappeared ━ leaving tristyn to soak in their absence. but it's not so bad. there's something that makes up for the freakishness of it all. free booze. he realizes that as he tentatively snakes his hand around the neck of a nearly full jack daniel's bottle, left discarded and barren on the shelf behind the bar. he instinctively wets his bottom lip as if he holds the world's most prized possession beneath his fingertips. not like stealing from his favorite bar is the GREATEST idea, but who's really around to stop him? no one, is what he'd believe, if not for the faint rustle to be heard from the other side of the bar. he was so close. if he had any ounce of shame if things were normal, this all would be embarrassing … at the first sight of apocalypse, he's off to steal liquor. typical? his head whips around, attention turning from the shelf onto whoever seemed to have caught him in the act. ❛ whatever you THINK is happening … probably is. ❜
... introducing : TRISTYN BUCKLEY , a once mischievous rascal and country boy turned culinary student in hopes of redemption & being everything his brother wanted him to be. ©
NEW DAY, NEW MONEY TO BE MADE.
Never Goin’ Back (2018)
“Jessie, get up. You have to get up now because I have something really, really awesome to show you.”
St. Elmo’s Fire (1985) dir. Joel Schumacher
Anthony Bourdain, from Les Halles Cookbook
BILL FARRAH + tattoos
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