rose-colored boy

Truman Kim. Professor. 30. 1 year in Bone Hill Here is a church and here is a steeple. Open the doors there are the people, and all their little hearts at ease. For another week's disease. And eagle, eagle, talon, and scream, I never once left in between. I was on the fence and I never wanted your two cents.Down my throat, in to the pit, with my head upon the spit. Oh Reverend, please, can I chew your ear? I've become what I most fear. And I know there's no such thing as ghosts, but I have seen the demon host.

[trumanwtf-blog]

elizamcrquis:

“ i hope this means i’ll get invited to the wedding. “ the girl lightheartedly replied, mistaking the heirloom for an engagement ring. eliza pressed the item of jewelry into his hand, tilting her head in thought. “ well, there is that new prada bag that just came out. “ she responded jokingly, though there was still a hint of hope glittering in her azure eyes. “ seriously though?? i’d be happy some food- even street fries would do at this point. “

“ oh... heh, there’s n-no wedding, just an an..an old family heirloom,” he mumbled, blush rushing to his cheeks as he slipped the ring onto his right hand. “ ah, w-wouldn’t we all love th-the new p-p-pr-prada bag.” truman joked, shaking his head at the girl before him. “ dinner though, th-that i can do. i’m t-truman, by the way. ” the stutter was out in full force, mainly because he was face to face with someone he didn’t know. he hoped that it wasn’t a detriment to getting to know the face before him. he could use some friends in the town. 

[trumanwtf-blog]

elizamcrquis:

“ hey, hey wait up!! ” eliza called, hurrying after the other. “ you dropped this. and i doubt the local pawn shop will take much for it, so i thought i’d a good samaritan just this once… even though my rent’s due in a week. “ she said, extending the item towards them.

truman turned stiffly around, wondering what he could of dropped. before him, the girl was holding out his grandfather’s wedding ring - it was passed down each time the male heir to the family died, and he had it from when his father had passed away a few years ago. “ wow. thank you. i don’t...even know what to say. this is special to me. is there anyway i can repay you?”

[trumanwtf-blog]

seblvcroix:

Sebastian woke up to the repetitive sound of his alarm clock, resisting the temptation to throw the bastard thing at the wall he clambered out of his bed and made his way into the kitchen where his coffee machine had already poured a satisfying black liquid. He poured the liquid into his favourite mug and added cream and sugar. He needed to fuel this addiction before he could carry on with his day. 

He donned his gym gear next. Putting his earphones in and click play on his favourite workout playlist, he made his way out of his apartment and started jogging in the direction of the gym. 

He was in the zone, running to the beat of music that pounded in his ears. Further down the road he saw a collection of police cars accompanied by a   cacophony of sirens. They’d pulled over and seemed to be questioning an individual. Sebastian approached, not being able to look away.. 

“Oh? what’s going on then?” Sebastian questioned- the person he saw looked oddly familiar. 

Truman was out walking Reggie, his brown pug, when he heard the sirens. Being the nosy person he was, he wandered over, wanting to see what was happening. From what he could gather - it was just a small and local drug bust, but he was sure it was going to end up in the local paper. 

The professor heard footsteps behind him, but made no move to greet whomever it was, still attempting to focus in on what was being said between the officers and the arrested. It was only when he heard a voice that he turned to face it. 

“I think it’s a drug bust..” Truman answered, shrugging his shoulders. “I haven’t been able to catch much, just snippets of the conversation here an there.” 

[phs-enthusiast]

[trumanwtf-blog]

vehemena:

               ❝ JESUS. ❞

       four years really did a number on her baseball skills.

       a frown pulled at the edges of Anastasia’s mouth as she watched the orange ball fly from her hand, soar upwards in a soft arc, to veer and land at the edge of the park. the quickly setting sun offered no assistance in spotting the ball as it rolled under an unruly bush. Bon, who watched the object’s sad descent, sat simply by her feet. her chin was tucked underneath a thick scarf, eyes squinting against the biting cold as she walked to retrieve it – the dog would be no help today.

       when she reached for the ball the sudden rustle was hardly registered. already the wind had picked up. as she straightened it was difficult to bite back a frightened yelp at the body over the other side of the bush, jolting at the quick shuffle of her steps.

               ❝ sorry if i … woke you? ❞

Truman was curled up against a tree, watching the sun set as he wrote in his journal. It was simple poetry - nothing worthy of being shared with anyone, but it was an effective way to jot down his thoughts. The softness of the summer night was prevalent, and it sent small goosebumps up and down his arms. 

Knuckles relaxed, it was almost as if when he was writing he couldn’t feel the blood pulsing through them - as if the bruises that covered the knuckles weren’t there, that they weren’t painful. Fight club had taken a toll on him lately. He wasn’t sure how to explain the yellow-ish brown bruises covering his body like freckles, or how to explain the swollen eye to people - so he had been avoiding the town and wearing long sleeves in summer. That was grounds for questioning by itself. 

So when a startled yelp disrupted his peaceful alone time, a scream escaped his mouth as well. 

“No - n-no, you didn’t...w-wake me, just...just st-startled me. Th-that’s all.” 

[trumanwtf-blog]

thercsas:

well, surely dying as roadkill wasn’t in the brunette’s plans for the day ( or ever ), but thankfully the car stops before it even hits her – really, it’s about a good few inches away but the guttural sound that leaves her red-stained lips would have made everyone think she was actually hit. maybe this would serve as a wake up call, after all, crossing the street while she texted a hundred miles per hour wasn’t exactly…  safe. “jesus christ!” theresa manages to breathe out just as the male steps out of he vehicle, hazel eyes lifting to glare at the other. “yeah, i’m perfectly freaking okay, thank you for checking, i was this–” she gestures with her hand, index and thumb almost touching “–close to dying. i’m great.”

as the girl turned relatively hostile toward him, truman couldn’t do anything but completely understand where she was coming from. after all, his suv almost ran down the girl in front of him. he winced at her words, his face subtly cringing at the tone. “look - i’m really sorry, but...at least you’re not hurt?” he offered, attempting to send a soft smile her way. 

[phs-enthusiast]

[trumanwtf-blog]

saramasters

Clad in a flow-y floral swing dress, Sara had been weaving in and out on the gravel of the offbeat road, kicking stones and fighting the urge to scream at the top of her lungs for mercy. This life hadn’t been kind to her and this day had been no exception. Knees scuffed from a fall, she held her pale blue penny board at her side. 

Turning around, she noticed a car heading straight toward her, a high-pitched child-like scream escaping her before she could even stop herself. 

As the man quickly leaped from the vehicle to her assistance, she held her board out in front of her, a gesture of self defence she thought she might need to instil. 

“Get away from me,” she said. “I’m fine.”

The words came out harsh, unnecessarily so, and she had to take a wary step forward in order to apologize for it. 

“I’m sorry… Been hit before. Sets me on edge,” she explained. “Thanks for not killing me.”

Immediately, Truman backtracked when the girl spat out her words at him, his hands up in front of him as a defense mechanism. As his glasses started slipping off his face, he pushed them up hastily. His eyes narrowed at her words, but finally a soft smile slipped across his face. 

“No, n-no. It’s okay. I’m s-sorry you’ve been hit before.” 

His eyes scanned down to her knees and a frown overtook his small mouth as he saw the scrapes. 

“Are are y-you okay?” He asked, pointing towards the blondes knees. “I-I have a f-first aid kit in my t-trunk, if y-you want to use..use it.” 

[trumanwtf-blog]

Truman carefully closed his office door at the university and made his way back to his car. The drive from the local university back to the main part of Bone Hill was short, but pleasant. The summer air was soft and warm, and once in his car, he rolled down his window in order to feel the sunlight on his face. 

Absent-mindedly, Truman flipped on the radio, getting lost in the music and the sight of the mountains among the backdrop of the setting sun. Everything was going normally - Truman was strolling through Bone Hill, singing along to the latest summer-pop hit. He had turned in his last grade of the year, and for once, he wasn’t going to teach any summer classes. He was free. 

Suddenly, he heard a scream - a yell, something that jerked his head away from the setting sun and back to in front of him. He slammed on his breaks, mere i n c h e s away from the person who had let out the yelp. Truman turned off his car and ran out to the person, panic stretched across his features. 

“I-I-I am so sorry. Are y-you okay??” 

[abduction]