#guiltdad

[hawkinsown]

╰     *     guiltdad  !    ╱    PLOTTED.

*           STRUCTURED TOLERANCE CRUMBLES      the   minute   the   front   door   closes   shut     .       ENTER HUMAN PIÑATA.     he's   fed-up    ,       exhausted    ,       and   will   kill   for   a   hot   shower     .       agonized   curses   spill   from   lips    ,       glossed   with   oozing    ,       bright   blood     .       it   paints   his   skin    ,       his   face    ,       skimmed   across   his   arms     .       as   if   a   malicious   artist   dipped   a   brush   in   crimson   paint   and     absentmindedly     scattered   strokes   across   paled   skin     .

          it's     CURIOUS,     how   he's   managed   to   even     GET   HOME     .       he   can   barely   see   through   swollen   eyes     .       he   can't   remember   passing   through   the   dining   room   to   enter   the   kitchen    ,       or   anything   past   that     —     but   now   he's   holding   open   the   freezer   door   and   feeling   for   frozen   corn     .       he   finds   the   chilly   packaging   and   closes   the   door   with   a   toughened   sigh     .       he   doesn't   remember   shutting   his   eyes    ,       but   reopens   them   to   a   blurred   figure     .       lips   shape   a   name   that   promotes     A RIDICULOUS THOUGHT PROCESS,     only   to   be   hushed   by   a   conscience     —     something   he   does   have    ,       really    !!

                                        ❛    DAD   ?       ❜

[fathcrhearted-blog]

@guiltdad 

          The bar he’d been sitting in wasn’t a very popular one, a few stragglers every now and then. If he was being honest, these were Hopper’s the places he would much rather be. They were quiet and peaceful. They were perfect for RELAXATION after a LONG day, or to meet with someone, who’d stayed in his past, despite living in the same small town. He waited, nursing a drink that was nearly gone. He knew he’d definitely would need at least one more before he was able to get through this conversation. Just as he was about to wave the waitress, the bells of the bar door chimed. Blue hues met the familiar man that had clearly aged like fine wine. 

[trustcop]

@guiltdad ♥’d for starter

There was never a good reason for George Harrington to be in his office before him. In fact, there was never a good reason for George Harrington to be in his station. “George.” Jim curtly nodded and removed his hat, tossing it onto his file strewn desk. “What can I help you with?” 

[quiritis-blog]

‘Are you crying?”

crying? pfft nah- no way. // accepting !!!! // @guiltdad

-    hands shook and ran into his hair, nancy had called it BULLSHIT…maybe she was right, maybe love was utter bullshit. but it hurt, it really fucking hurt !!! fuck. his mind was still buzzing from drink, the numbness of crying had gotten to him and right now he could feel the tears ( if there happened to be any. ) hearing his dad made him groan, teeth dug onto his lower lip; eyes fixed onto the floor. in this moment he didn’t have the energy to snap.   “what gave it away?”

eyes rolled      his nose wrinkled up, his thumb tabbed onto his hip, “just got into a fight with nancy is all, not a big deal.” he was sure that would get a laugh from his father, but steve rather that than people at school he could deal with his dad laughing. “anyway..i’m headin’ to my room, night.”