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[hesa-tramp]

       truman had been leaned against the wall for a good fifteen extra minutes waiting for delilah to finish getting ready, and so he was inclined to agree with her, “you’re always flashy, doll.” pushing himself off the wall, he playfully rolled his eyes at the girl, “what’s that they say dee? when a girl keeps sayin’ how somethin’ isn’t when it is? the lady doth protest too much?”

APPLYING A FRESH LAYER OF LIPSTICK, delilah smacked her lips together, satisfied with the way she looked in the mirror and more than happy with her outfit. gorgeous. just gorgeous! no doubt that she had the confidence to make up for whether or not she didn’t look picture perfect ( which in her eyes, she did ) but that was simply what made her herself. “i hope this isn’t too flashy. i’m sure it is, and if it is, then who cares! what do you think? too much, too little?” she blabbered on, shooting a glance at her male friend who so patiently waited for her to get ready. “on second thought, why am i asking for your opinion? none of its for you in the first place.” she shot, sending him a wink and a cheeky smile. 

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     truman paused the sip of the ale he was drinking to look over at georgie. standing about half a foot taller than her, it was no surprise that he was blocking the light, but he laughed, shaking his head. “oh, so sorry, princess,” he replied mimicking her attitude and moving to her other side. “is that better for you?”

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Georgie was actually excited for the festival, her followers loved anything she posted about events around town. That and flowers make any picture look good. She was about to take a selfie with a beautiful floral arrangement when a shadow made her picture look less than perfect. “Um, excuse me? You’re blocking my light, I need direct sunlight here,” she told him with an attitude. 

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     “you really think i’d say no to free food?” truman laughed, grinning as he took the muffin from her hands. “thanks, kate.” truman grinned as he unwrapped the pastry, taking a large bite immediately. “now, what’s a girl like you doin’ in a place like this?” he joked.

         ❝  hey , do you want this ? ❞ arm extends , offering up a brown pastry bag. ❝ it’s a chocolate chip muffin. i don’t know why they gave me an extra - - probably because i’m not a little demon during the morning rush , but still. i don’t really need two muffins , & i’m not big on food waste so … ❞ she waves the bag a bit , smiling at her companion hopefully. ❝  here. happy thursday ! ❞

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JUDE HAWKINS‌:

“don’t get too crazy. i’m pretty sure i could do it just fine one my own. might take a little longer…” he trailed off with a smirk on his lips. “i could probably cut out a little early, we’re not busy.” he reasoned, more hopeful than anything.

     “don’t go pissin’ off your boss, jude,” truman lectured. though he had done the same when he had worked for other people, he knew that he should encourage jude to stick it out for his shift. “car’ll still be there when you get off your shift, alright? i’m gonna go ‘n pick up some more stuff for detailing anyways.”

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One million BBQ pork buns please!

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JUDE HAWKINS:

jude didn’t hesitate before making his way outside when he saw truman. it wasn’t like he was particularly busy at the moment, and if he was out of sight, he could keep it that way. “hey, boss.” he grinned back. “a ‘69? is that even a question. you know i’m in, how’d you do it without me?”

     “figured as much,” tru laughed, “i could very easily do it without you, kid, but i figured i’d extend the invitation because you wouldn’t be able to do it without me. whenever you get off work for the day, head on over to mine, she’s parked in the garage, alright?”

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@judehawkins

     truman’s oil-stained hands knocked on the window of the inn, catching jude’s attention and motioning for him to come outside. “hey kid,” truman grinned, “y’know how i finished my bike? well i’ve got a new project. a ‘69 boss mustang. could use a bit of help fixin’ her up, you in?” 

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Jordan Connor in Vessel by ROYAL

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[ text to truman 🎺 ]

eric: omg you own the shop

eric: im so sorry

eric: now that you OWN the shop but like im sorry for not ?? knowing ??

eric: anyway yeah that would be great thank you

eric: also what was the name of the movie you told me to watch? bystanders?

truman: nah, it's good

truman: and no, not bystanders lmao

truman: the outsiders

truman: it's with c. thomas howell, ralph macchio, rob lowe, patrick swazye, buncha people that became pretty big names

truman: i recommend st. elmo's fire too

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MARINA PYLE‌:

“Oh, w-well I’m not sure it’s a tragedy, but it is what it is.” She noted with a shrug and a chuckle. At his question, she shook her head while holding up her latte. “I’m afraid I’m only passing through back towards work. I’m the owner of the Sleepy Hollow Inn and this is my first bit of sustenance since the wee hours this morning. Spring Break surely knows how to keep me and my staff busy.”

     “oh yeah, sleepy hollow? i crashed there a few times before i got my own place here in apple peak. nice gig you’ve got, yeah? do you get a lot of out of towners over there?”

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WOLFGANG LUPIN‌:

“Are you sure you can handle… whatever the hell this is?” he said, gesturing to the party.

     “what? a small-town rager?” truman laughed and shrugged, “this is pretty standard. i’m sure it’s been quite some time for you, but this is pretty standard for college-aged kids.”

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[ text to truman 🎺 ]

eric: holy shit you work at one man's junk ?!?!?!?

eric: im not a stalker btw i just walked past and saw u putting stuff away

eric: unless u were just shopping there lmao sorry BUT STILL

eric: do u know how to value old things

eric: like ... my mom has a bunch of old stuff and i dont wanna say somethings $3 when its worth $3000 bc its old

truman: i mean something like that, yeah

truman: i own the shop 🤷🏻‍♂️

truman: so short answer yeah i can appraise stuff if you want, just bring it on over whenever

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WOLFGANG LUPIN:

Lobo rolled his eyes at him. He really was a puppy. “You should definitely be worried about hearing loss at your age.”

     truman snorted in laughter, a grin present on his face, “my hearing is fine man, it’s just selective.”

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[𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊]

ella: you know me, sick of bad intentions, and all that

ella: looking forward to it!

ella: that's the plan unless the step-monster changes her mind about letting me off

truman: honestly ella you need to get out of there

truman: she treats you like shit

truman: i'm tired of seeing people like that being allowed to raise children

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[𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊]

ella: whoa, good afternoon to you to?

ella: just make whatever you're in the mood for! trust me, when there's poor intention, people can taste it.

truman: 🙄🙄🙄

truman: you and your intentions

truman: fine then i'm making pasta

truman: you're still coming over, yeah?

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ERIC ANKER‌:

“i’ll put it on the list. is it gonna make me cry?” they added, half-joking, half-serious. then eric laughed. “all-righty then, medium rare it is. don’t hate me if it isn’t exactly medium rare, though. i usually just try the hand test and that’s…a hit and miss, at best. and we’re lucky these aren’t fully frozen.” eric poked a finger at the steak. “back to the kitchen! i’m eric, by the way –”  

     “i usually go by the three minutes on each side method, that usually does the trick,” truman shrugged. “truman tsai. constantly surprised by how many people i don’t know in this small town.”