wallacepolsom
Discoholic πͺ©
I'd rather be in outer space πΈ
cherry valley forever
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Jules of Nature
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
oozey mess
β£ Chile in a Photography β£
RMH
Kaledo Art
Peter Solarz
Claire Keane
@theartofmadeline
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
NASA
PR's Tumblrdome
seen from United Kingdom
seen from India
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Belgium
seen from TΓΌrkiye
seen from Netherlands
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from TΓΌrkiye
seen from TΓΌrkiye
seen from Netherlands
seen from Switzerland
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Germany
@hartattck
julien hart. thirty. he/him. manager for portal movie rental & bassist for 2nd heaven.
β― HARTATTCKΒ βΈΊ a dependent exploration on the consequences of a lonely childhood, being a born and bred hater, and how a fear of change responds to newfound success. penned by aura.
β½ β± βΎΒ Β INTRO.Β Β β½ β±β± βΎΒ Β MUSINGS.Β Β β½ β±β±β± βΎΒ Β VISAGE. β½ β±α΅ βΎΒ Β PINTEREST.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
setting : soaperstars laundromat ; march 3rd, morning status : closed for @cherrieswave
on tour, one of the things julien missed most was routine. it was probably one of the least rockstar things about him β apart from the loafers and corduroy, of course ; that he couldn't gel with the chaos and mandatory flexibility that came from being on the road, never knowing exactly when the next meal would be or when he'd get a chance to wash his clothes. when things got especially bad with noa, with birdie, with... all of it, the lack of consistency would drive him to borderline meltdowns where he would grip and scratch the sides of his arms, insisting that none of his clothes felt right anymore until someone finally sighed and found a coin laundromat for him, forcing them all into an awkward proximity for an hour and a half that left him feeling itchier than he did before.
all this to say : he's glad to be back.
wednesdays were the laundry days, each having their own little routine-within-the-routine of julien flitting around the apartment in the morning before work to gather his own clothes and soaps and favorite fabric softener while berating his hungover / high / half-asleep ( the variable changed depending on the day ) roommate about doing their own because julien really wasn't going to do it for them this time. of course, he inevitably would anyway, if only because he couldn't stand looking at the pile growing in the bathroom anymore.
rolling through soaperstars with his usual, overflowing bin towards his go-to washer β the one that doesn't thunk against the wall quite as heavy β julien stops short, this part of his routine ruined by the presence of another individual standing in front of it, piling their own armful of clothes in. already he's frowning, and not just because that's his washer or the fact that they're mixing their whites and colors ( horrifying ! )
β logan, β he acknowledges her with a clipped tone, completely negating the politeness of greeting her to begin with. really, he just wants her to have to be burdened by his presence as much as he now has to be burdened by hers. β since when are you here on wednesdays ? β
for @hartattck at the stone's, sunday 2am
"Can I talk to you about something?"
The question was posed with no shortage of uncharacteristic hesitance, almost lost behind the bass that was shaking the entire house. Birdie's high tops scuffed against the wood grain of the Stone's front porch in time, their eyes trained down at the spot they were wearing at.
They raised the cigarette idling burning down in their hand to their lips, as if it might buy a little more time between now and the moment when they would actually have to broach the subject they'd just brought up.
The asking was the easy part. Talking about the actual something was harder.
Even Julien answered in the negative, Birdie didn't hear it. They barreled forward, afraid they'd lose their nerve if they didn't just ask it.
"Things feel different now, don't they? With all of us."
birdie gets a soft hum in response from julien, his head lolled back, eyes closed as he lounges on the steps while they take their cigarette break. even out here he can still feel the thrum of the bass from the music inside, but it's dulled, buried, a background sound to the cricket song he's been focusing on to decompress.
he can't stop thinking about it : him and noa in the dressing room after the show, fighting, truly fighting, and not making up right after for maybe the first time in their lives. it curdles his stomach, makes his hands shake. it's such an unknown, julien finds that he's not sure what to do with himself. being at a party feels wrong in a way, definitely overstimulating, but if the alternative is being completely alone while the moment repeats over and over in his head ad nauseum, he'll take the borderline panic attack. at least he's got birdie to tag along with.
at their words, julien sighs, pushing himself upright to hang over his knees instead. they're right. he knows they're right. admitting it though ? they're much braver than him on that front. β it'll blow over now that we're back, β is the best he can do.
leaning back again, he props one arm on the top step and turns his body to look up at them. β on the bright side, until then, you're not the only one on noa's shitlist. β
setting : portal movie rentals, friday afternoon status : closed for @sentimntls
it was all hands on deck at portal preparing for the marathon that day, and that meant getting to work with people and pairs julien normally didn't get a chance to. right now, it's mila and easy, neither unknown to him as individuals but a new pair. a pair that has been interesting so far. or maybe julien's just not use to the fact that mila's newly single and technically considered a harmless target for easy's ... habits. it's hard to say for sure, but given that he sees easy like his own brother and is fond of mila the way one might be a puppy, he would at least like to have a clearer picture.
β you seem distracted, β is how he chooses to start the conversation when easy has to step away for something, ignoring entirely whether she actually has or not.
closed starter for julien hart ( @hartattck ) -> portal, thursday 12pm
When Easy elbows through the front door of Portal, eyes wild and t-shirt rumpled, it's Frankie at the register. Definitely not who he's looking for. He directs a question her way - where is he? -which is asked and then ignored in favor of searching the racks. Then, like a wiry, stuck-up angel from heaven, Julien appears, a stack of returns in his hands.
( And Easy's affectionate, he really is, but the strength of the desire to surge forward and hug Julien like he's been off to war for years instead of weeks almost bowls him over. He doesn't, but it's a near thing. )
"Thank god you're back. I am never doing a morning shift again."
technically, julien isn't scheduled to work today. petey had offered him most of the festival off for some end-of-tour R&R. initially he'd agreed, but actually being back, relishing in the familiarity he'd missed so terribly on the road, the break in his usual routine felt wrong. what was then meant to just be a quick stop in to scratch the itch quickly turned into an impromptu, unofficial half-shift as 'just saying hi and making sure you didn't blow up my store' became 'no no, i can put those away. you still haven't learned how to display them right.' in his defense, they hadn't.
rounding the bend towards the aisle they keep the dramas, julien stops in his tracks as a disheveled looking easy mirrors him on the opposite end. the smile on his face is immediate but purposefully kept small and controlled, another mirror to easy's playfully feigned nonchalance.
β instead you're early for your afternoon shift. perfect, because i need to you to do something for me. β he picks up the movie at the top of the pile he's holding β a well-loved and too-often-rented copy of titanic β and holds it out for easy to take. β go hide this in the back somewhere. the less people subjected to james cameron's heavy-handed lust story, the better. when you get back i'll make sure my hands are free so you can hug me like a normal person, cool ? β
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
closed starter for julien hart ( @hartattck ) -> fight club dressing room, saturday, 9:45pm
"Sounded like you missed four notes in Stars."
Sweat, rapidly-cooling and well-earned, leaves streaks of shine down Noa's neck, behind his ears, across his furrowed brows. It isn't glistening the way it was under the heat of the stage lights, but Noa isn't thinking about how he looks right now - not with Julien, who has seen him through everything, including the parts of him he learned how to keep very, very well hidden. Noa tugs his tank top (also drenched with sweat) over his head, uses it to wick away what's left on his face before balling it up and tossing it on the dressing table.
Tension had long ago seeped it's way into the tour bus, wrapped its tendrils around the members before they'd even hit city number five, and though Noa might pretend like he doesn't feel the sting of its grip, he's starting to suffocate like the rest of them. It squeezes around his chest, makes it hard to breathe; Noa reaches for his bag so he can root around for something clean to wear.
"You gonna' tell me what the fuck is wrong with you tonight or are you going to make me ask?"
save only for his eyes which flick up to find his best friend in the dressing room mirror, julien goes rigid still at noa's words. β i was just following your lead. or did you not mean to come in late with the vocals ? β there's an attempt at a friendly tone. some valiant effort for his terse, immediately defensive words to resemble some kind of post show banter between them. julien's never bothered to learn how to hide his real feelings from others though, least of all from noa. it comes out too sharp.
it's not a lie though. or, well, okayβ he actually can't say for sure if noa had come in late. in the moment, he'd been too caught up in the fact that noa's attention seemed elsewhere to tell who in the band had messed up first. someone had though, and given what julien had seen when he followed noa's eyeline into the audience, it doesn't feel like a terrible leap in logic to conclude what had happened. unfortunately for both of them, they know each other too well.
julien looks to the balled up tank top as it lands beside him, following its trajectory back to noa and lingering on the slope of his back and shoulders. with a sharp swallow, he quickly looks away. forces himself to get back to mending the button on his favorite jacket that had come loose in the middle of the show. tries not to think about all the other things that feel like they're fraying lately.
still, he can't help but tack on, β fourth time's the charm maybe. β a pause. his brows pinch together contemplatively, then, β or was this one of those time's where you weren't officially together ? i've lost track. β
introducing ... julien hart as the snob. portal manager & 2nd heaven bassist.
a carefully curated collection of thrift store finds, a corduroy jacket here and a vintage button-up there. a roll of the eyes and a scoff while reading a customer's rental history. furious typing over an ibm keyboard in the dead of night. a sloped frame in the doorway, over a chair, leaned across a desk; grand confidence beneath a lazy posture. a dismissive wave in the middle of an argument.
