hartirons-blog

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Garrett Hedlund for Flaunt Magazine / February 27th

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You Are Not Alone

A reminder to myself, and others, to not succumb to fear, loneliness, sadness. Wonder is out there, capture it. 

Deviantart

9x12in acrylic painting on acrylic paper

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Damn, I’m a dad.

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What is your guilty pleasure? Roller skating

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mira-leroux·:

“Trust me, don’t order it.” She talked across the table, shaking her head. Mira worked at Grace’s Diner. That meant she knew all the tricks, and what was actually decent to eat. Today was her off day, and usually, you wouldn’t catch the blonde eating there when she wasn’t working. “Their burgers are good as well as their sandwiches and wraps. Salads are too bad either– honestly, it depends on who the cook is for the day.” With that she cocked her head over her shoulder, trying to see who she could spot through the open window of the kitchen.

“Why do I get the feeling I should be eating somewhere else entirely?” Hart glanced up from the menu back towards Mira. She was nixing just about every item on the menu that had stood out to him, and now he was wondering if she was going to tell him the pie was horrible too.

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charlie-blanc‌:

Charlie rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink to fortify himself against Hart and his… Hart-ness. “Yes, yes, I know. You’re such a fuddy-duddy, you know.” More alcohol for him, then. “We’re celebrating life. Isn’t that enough?” he mock toasted Hart. “Now tell me what I’ve done for you to be here, since last time I checked I was in the clear.” 

“Coming from you, I will take that as a compliment.” There was a time when Hart would have been insulted by what Charlie said, but that time died along with wife. “Just papers for you to sign,” Hart said as he reached into his bag for the documents, “Unless you suddenly decided the museum doesn’t need five new paintings?”

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nicolasdanvers·:

Nic shook his head, horrified at the thought of someone recording it.  “I do not want to be the next meme. Dumb Coffee Guy.” Nic nodded at Hart’s suggestion, wanting to stick his tongue out at the teasing tone, but new he didn’t have a leg to stand on there.  He had just spilt coffee over the both of them.

He glanced around the Promenade and spied a tourist T-shirt vendor. “Do you want…” He squinted trying to read the kitschy logos, “’I left my heart in LA’ with the outline of Louisiana or the one with the alligator eating the tourist boat?”

“You say that like you’ve been a meme before,” Hart remarked. Though the remark was rhetorical he wouldn’t be surprised if Nic had in fact had that happened to him before and had a story to go along with it.

Hart glanced in the direction Nic was looking and answered immediately, “Alligator. Definitely. I’ll get cool dad points with Zach for the gator. The LA one would give me lame dad points.” Hart would rather have the cool dad points. Even if that meant he’d more than likely need to buy Zach the shirt too. But he liked being his son’s hero. Someone the boy looked up to and admired. At least someone looked at him that way.

“I’ll go grab the coffee while you buy those.” He turned around, but stopped short. “Nic, how do you like your coffee? Or espresso?” He realized that he didn’t know and figured it was best to get it right. Plus it was information that could come in handy.

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charlie-blanc·:

“Whatcha want? I’ve got scotch, wine, and whiskey, which frankly, is the only booze you’ll ever need. Want something else and I suggest you look elsewhere,” Charlie said to the person who materialized beside him. “Pick your poison.”

“Charlie,” Hart warned with a soft tone, “We go through this every time. I don’t drink when I’m on the clock unless its means of celebration. And last time I checked we weren’t celebrating anything.”

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rochellebordreaux·:

“I could, but that would involve actually talking to them. So no thanks.” She said, making a face. She would much prefer to just give a tour with no questions or comments or any reason whatsoever to actually speak to the people in the boat.

Hart shrugged his shoulders. “I have to talk for a living so...” He left the comment fall short. There was no real point he was making. “If you don’t want to talk to them you could always give them a really informative contract that they need to sign before the tours that answers any and all questions. And then if they try and ask a question just point to a sign that says ‘Read the contract or talk to our lawyers’ in bold letters.” He chuckled mostly to himself.

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nevada--saunders‌:

Clover gave the man a toothy grin before leaning forward to hide her face into his coat. Today, Nevada had managed to pull the little girl’s hair up into two buns on the top of her head. Bear ears are what the little girl called it. “She’s very curious all right,” he chuckled. The three-year-old eventually peeked out from behind the fabric, holding up four fingers before switching to three. ‘Three– I ‘three.’ Clover cooed. “Yes, that’s right. She had a birthday, not too long ago.”

“Three?” Hart pretended to have more astonishment than he really had at the girl’s revelation. “Really? You’re a mighty impressive three year old. I’m thirty- four and I don’t think I was that impressive when I was three. You must have some pretty awesome parents.” Hart looked back up at Nevada. You could clearly tell he was thinking ‘cute kid’ in his head. “She take after her mom?” He meant in looks. Hart’s son took after him when it came to his looks. The only thing the boy was given was his mother’s eyes.

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Thanksgiving with the Danvers Pack

Keep reading

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nevada--saunders·:

You thought terrible twos’ were bad. Oh, threes’ are even worse. Nevada watched his daughter scream her head off in the store because he had told her no. It did break his heart to say the little girl that she couldn’t have the toy, that she could wait until Christmas. In the end, he bribed Clover by offering to get ice cream after. It made her calm down and go about to looking at everything, pointing to them and asking ‘what’s that.’ Being a game to every aisle, they walked into. Just as she was about to point, a person walked into the direct line of her finger. Nevada couldn’t help but laugh, “Honey, it’s not polite to point at others. Sorry about that,” he apologized to the other.

Hart hadn’t even realized the girl was pointing at him since his gaze had been above the child’s head, but when he heard the father speaking to him he clued in. He glanced down at the girl and smirked before switching his gaze to her father. “It’s all good man,” he assured him unable to hide his Texan roots as he said it, “Can’t help a kid’s curiosity.” Zachariah was older than the girl, but the boy still pointed at people from time to time.