#julian 001.

[silascody]

silas 📲 julian.

Silas: [screenshot of Julian's face from an episode of The Hunt] Silas: Dis u? @julianxpark

[auggievillanueva]

Auggie let out a flattered, maybe a bit bashful chuckle, a hand moving to the nape of his neck and he tried to tamp down the heat rising into his face. God, he felt sort of pathetic. Was an off-handed compliment really all it took to get a blush out of him these days?

To be fair, most of the compliments he got about his appearance in the last year or so had come from his cheek-pinching aunts or his daughter, since the word "handsome" had entered her vocabulary.

He regrouped and tried to say in the least pathetic way possible, "Well, thank you. You're not too hard on the eyes yourself."

He chuckled as he turned to the bartender and gave a half-hearted, two-fingered salute to the bartender who, to his credit, winced sympathetically and gave them a wordless nod before quickly pouring out the two shots and leaving them without asking for a card.

"Well, there we go," he said, picking up both of the shots and holding one out for the stranger. "I guess sympathy does work."

He held up his glass for a toast. "To the savior of my Saturday night. I'm Auggie."

@julianxpark

Julian had to agree, although he wasn't sure he'd ever experienced such a blatant reject like that. He'd been rejected in many ways, just not that one. Luckily, he wasn't ever really one to take it to heart, there was always plenty more fish.

Listening to the stranger's story, Julian's face pulled into a pained wince. "Ouch," Julian hissed. "Well, at least you know it's not because they took one look at you and decided you were ugly." A hand waved upwards to gesture towards the man's face. "Because obviously you're not." It wasn't even a come on, Julian was simply stating a fact.

"So I can only reason that it's got everything to do with them," Julian concluded. "Sounds like they actually did you a favor of not wasting your time getting to know them." As it turned out, that person sucked.

As the drink was placed in front of him, Julian chuckled as he reached back into his pocket to grab his wallet. Once the bartender was in the general vicinity, the man beckoned them over. "Two tequila shots please. My friend here got ghosted," he added on the end for context. Maybe spelling it out for the bartender would elicit some sympathy.

( @auggievillanueva )

[scientistyaoi]

[bodexjames]

closed starter for @juliansdamico

location: somewhere in midtown

"Sir! Yeah, you! I think you dropped something." Bode called out as he almost rushed to the other man and then laughed when he realized it was Julian, who he'd met a few weeks ago. "Oh, Julian. You dropped your keys, dude." He handed them over to his friend and grinned. "Where are you rushing to?"

[archiemorgan]

Who: @julianxhawthorne and Archie

Where: Julian's Yacht

When: Julian's birthday

Archie loved going to parties. He also loved yachts. And he especially loved parties on yachts. Plus he liked to celebrate those he considered to be part of that very small circle of people he cared about. So of course he had to go all out for Julian's birthday. Ordering a set of sipping glasses for an array of liquor, Archie had it gift wrapped with some nice fancy paper. He felt as if he couldn't walk into the party empty handed, so he figured a nice set of glasses would be appropriate. Walking in, he scanned the room before settling on the man of the hour. "Julian my man!! Happy fucking birthday dude!"

[keolalagaaia]

"Woah," Keo says like he's been stopped in his tracks, which he was very much still in motion. It's a good point but an opposing one to the one that was slipping through his fingers like wisps of smoke in the night air, and he tries to grasp for it in an endeavour that would be equally as pointless.

"I don't know it, but I feel it. And feelings count for something."

He's not sure exactly for what -- but something.

"That's what I'm saying. This face should be in print. It was once, in Surfer. It was when I won a surfing comp at sixteen. I sent about thirty copies of that to Samoa to my dad's fam. That's probably not that impressive to you, you've been on actual billboards."

@julianxpark

Julian nods along, half paying attention to what Keo was saying while also trying to work out if his high had kicked in yet or not. Considering the buzzing sensation in his ears, it was likely. "If you don't remember them," Julian says slowly, like he'd just had an epiphany. "How do you know that they were worthy?"

Speaking from experience, sometimes ideas under the influence were less inspiring in the light of day. Julian's Notes app proved as much.

"You'd look so good on the cover of 30 Under 30 though," Julian adds as an afterthought.

( @keolalagaaia )

[likestvrlight]

*  JULIAN  RHODES  (  @violentdesires​  )

DOING  ANYTHING  PRODUCTIVE  has  stopped  after  she’d  been  dragged  into  actually  stepping  away  for  a  lunch  break  by  a  call  from  one  of  her  cousins  in  france  followed  by  another  long  call  with  her  mother  .  even  after  she’d  tried  telling  both  of  them  she  was  at  work  .  now  ,  she  can’t  concentrate  ,  mind  too  busy  coming  up  with  outfits  and  activities  for  when  her  cousins  visit  .

        she  eventually  closes  her  laptop  and  steps  out  of  her  office  ,  having  gotten  as  much  done  as  she’s  going  to  for  now  ,  and  she  had  completed  anything  that  was  time-sensitive  ,  at  least  .  she  lets  herself  into  julian’s  office  ,  dropping  into  a  chair  across  his  desk  from  him  .  “  i  can’t  focus  any  longer  so  we’re  getting  ice  cream  .  ”  

[crownsparrow]

➤  CONTINUED.

it’s a regular occurrence that emily finds herself arguing with bashir over one thing or another.  truly,  more often than not?  she’s starved for entertainment.  the nobility she’s surrounded by on a daily basis are extraordinarily dull  —  it’s only when wyman’s in dunwall that emily’s able to hold onto some sense of entertainment.  unfortunately,  it’s all too rare that they’re in gristol,  let alone dunwall.  with a heavy sigh,  gaze drifts idly around the room…  at least she’s faced with hints of entertainment now.  

“sokolov may be growing older,  but he’s still entirely capable of accomplishing plenty,”   of course,  emily’s too fond of anton to push him beyond his limits,  so there’s a hint of annoyance in the fact that the physician is so entirely correct.   “though i suppose you make a decent point,”   a concession offered begrudgingly as the empress’ eyes roll,  and a moment later she does as he’d asked,  her leg lifting to allow an examination.

    “A decent point,” he echoed with a grin. But he looked over her wounds, brows ticking together as he tried to surmise how deep they might be. She’d still been able to walk, so that was good. Some stitching and then monitoring in the coming days to ensure it wouldn’t become infected. He’d hate to see what ‘got the Empress’ leg hacked off at the hip’ did for his medical career.

“This will sting, feel free to hit the pillow, not me, Your Majesty.” He got to work, applying something for the pain (though it was far from a perfect concoction) and began the slow process of stitching. “If you’re wondering, however, I believe the answer to your tailor’s disposition is along the lines of "peeved”.“

"don't let it go to your head," the warning fired in @dimensionalspades' direction a lighthearted quip more than a genuine warning -- truth be told, bashir is one of those surrounding her with whom emily finds herself least annoyed with... though she'd never tell him that. he's kind, gifted, and most importantly? he's not afraid of going toe-to-toe with her. he doesn't back down where so many others cringe away at the mere idea of having a bit of fun with her.

of course, not every aspect of their encounters is pleasant -- and the fact that, more often than not, she's injured when they cross paths puts a bit of a damper on things. this will sting -- and it does, the scowl on her face deepening as emily attempts to keep quiet. a matter of pride, perhaps, in looking more annoyed than pained, though she's too distracted to say for certain. "i believe my tailor will live," she manages shortly, eyes rolling in a further attempt to appear nonchalant.

[jamesmorrisondgaf]

closed starter for @julianxheywood

James' phone indicated 6:00 am when she woke up with a massive headache and the breath of a 60 year-old alcoholic smoker, in a backyard she didn't know. She remembered getting to a party in Primrose Heights yesterday night, and she remembered these glasses people kept bringing her. She remembered the dancing, and the singing, and the games in the pool even though it was freezing in the middle of the night. However, she could not explain how she got here, at the back of a gigantic house. What got her up is the thought of her daughter, who was with the babysitter all night long, instead of just the few hours James had paid her for. "Fuck." She sighed before looking around. Where was she exactly ? God... It was also right at this moment that her phone died. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." She yelled, before walking towards a tall window, on which she knocked vigorously several times, before someone arrived. "Hi, sorry. I am definitely lost, and my phone died. Is there anyway I could borrow a charger to call a taxi or something ?" James asked, making sure she stayed at a safe distance so you couldn't smell alcohol on her. After all, she could just be a lost traveler who had a beer on the way. What was the big deal ?

[laureljacobs]

Laurel put her pack back in her pocket with a tiny, self-satisfied smile. She chuckled, her arms crossing over her chest as a breeze rolled through. "Little motherfuckers and their fucking Elf Bars. I tried it for a week and I will concede that those bitches have a kick. But it's just not the same." She looked down at her cigarette. "There could be something kind of fun about being a cool, old lesbian who owns a smoking bar. But no, no, I don't know the first thing about running a business. By all means, though," she gestured toward him. "Steal it and run with it."

Grinning, Julian helps himself to one, lifting it in silent thanks before putting it in his mouth and using her lighter to get it going.

"So why don't you open one?" he says. "You're not wrong, obviously a shit ton of people would be into a bar that lets you smoke cigarettes inside, especially if it's catered to younger people. You'd have to weed out the vapers though," he adds, "those clouds of noxious blue raspberry bubble gum flavored gas would swiftly ruin the atmosphere. Put a sign on the door, people with weak pink lungs who can't handle real tobacco not welcome."

[fadiingstarliights]

As much as Stefan was new to the island, the fact that it was a safe haven for many of his friends and family meant he had no problems settling in. He had after all, learnt to adapt over the many years he had spent traveling and it didn't take much for anywhere to feel like home to him. Of course meeting Julian again was a whole other thing. He was one of the very few people who knew what he was like when he had turned and that was not something he liked to talk about often to most. Nevertheless, he had kept in touch with the other, even meeting him occasionally over the years. Knowing he was on the island meant he had to go see him come wind or high water. Except, before he could find the time to do that he managed to come across him at the local bar, Stefan walking to him as soon as he recognized the other. "Well, well, look who's here." he said with a smile on his features as he walked up to the other. @spxxkygays

[laurieellingham]

✧･ﾟ— CLOSED STARTER @berkeleys

— CHARITY EVENT IN LOWER MANHATTAN ; EVENING

Laurie didn’t go to them as much as he would have liked, but charity events and galas were often the highlight of his social calendar. All sorts of members of high society- actors, business owners, politicians, philanthropists- all in one place putting their names and cheques to good causes.

Laurie had donned one of his finer suits. Nothing fancy, just plain black which was classy enough for him. He’d seen several men that had glittered lapels and jackets made from a fabric that looked like it belonged as a curtain in the Palace of Versailles. He thought that, to those men, he looked incredibly underdressed. But it wasn’t about the outfits, it was all about how much money they would all give to a good cause.

He was leaning against the back of the bar, a glass of scotch in hand, observing the crowd. He only knew a handful of people personally and was an acquaintance to many of the rest. But one familiar face, not even ten feet away, was Julian Berkeley: the Governor of New York himself. Eleven year old Laurie would never have believed that he would grow up to know someone as powerful and as prominent as Julian let alone be friends with him.

“Hey, Julian!” Laurie called. “Good turn-out tonight, huh?”

[full-tiltboogiearc]

@draconisa // julian x dany

It was a vice he’d been working to give up, but Julian had a long weekend, and the first thing he wanted to do after leaving the Christmas party was have a cigarette. Don’t get him wrong—it was a fun time and it made him feel good to be around the club. There was just something about having a smoke that felt like a nighttime routine for him, sort of like the bow placed on top of a good, but exhausting day. He waved goodbye to the last of the Vipers as they left the bar, then headed to the alley nearby, pulling out a pack of smokes.

Then, he heard the chatter of a group of guys—most likely wasted—in the distance. Furrowing his brows, he peered out to spot them, and approaching them was the familiar shape of a blonde's head of hair. Didn’t he just say goodbye to this girl at the party? Wasn't she on one of the other guys' arm all night? Sensing her nervousness as they approached the rowdy group, Julian shoved his cigarettes back in his pocket and emerged from the alley, wrapping an arm around the girl and patting her shoulder as they walked.

“Hey, thanks for waitin’ up for me,” Julian said, loud enough for the group ahead to hear. They noticed him, likely recognized his cut, and began walking the other direction. Turning to look at the girl now, he added, but in a lower voice: “That happens, just stare straight ahead. Keep walking strong.”

[solaadisa]

Sola's eyes narrowed as Julian went on his little mini-rant, continuing to scratch the cat under her chin as she tried to put together what he was saying. "Okay, none of that got through to me. Well, the first part did a little, and I, for one, think it would be cute if I stole one." She grabbed ahold of her latte in her free hand and took a sip. "So you're saying you wouldn't help me steal it, or…?"

"The usual amount for stealing things," Julian says, shrugging. "Maybe more maybe less depending on if they decide it's cute or fucked up you stole a cat from a cat cafe. I'm not a shoplifter myself but I do believe in their beliefs," he adds, "although it being a living thing up for adoption does kind of skew that a little bit into weird territory. How exactly does pet adoption fit into the anti-capitalism agenda is the big question, I guess."

[goldsilked]

@julicnn

Hands outstretched, seeping with jewels. Chin thrown backwards, another raucous rush of laughter escaping her, a magnificent smile dripping from her lips. Madeleine de Limeuil shone, pirouetting across the dance floor with white silks billowing about her like sails of a Grecian vessel, her step light, her demeanour graceful, brighter than the comets that soared above the English isle. It mattered not that this was not France, not Rome, but England –– dowdy, forbidding England, its people as dank as its palaces. Madeleine had a talent for making a room her own and infusing it with her particular brand of magic, of light, that Caterina demanded from her ladies, a charm that proved untaught, as she watched from the velvet-strewn dais, an air of approval wafting about her. Casting her gaze across the crowd, Madeleine's eyes sought to ensnare a familiar face within her trap and, no sooner had one turned up, did a devious smirk settle upon the bourne of Madeleine’s lips, smoothed with Moorish honey, the column of her throat reddened from hours upon hours of dancing, her skin glistening –– like the ripened curve of a cherry, shining moistly in the morning dew and drizzle.

‘You, Mon Seigneur de Vere, I choose you.’ Diana, goddess of the hunt, nearing upon her prey, her French tongue rolling with delight. Laughter poured and the smell of Parisian wine spilled from her; making light the swishing of a hand, swaying in Julian’s direction, coaxing him to her side, a finger crooked toward her breast. She leveled a mirthful grin upon him, the arch of her brow questioningly raised. ‘Shall you honour me with a dance, old friend, in the eyes of all Europe?’

Madeleine openly taunted him, relishing in the gawping of those around the pair, as her eyes scanned his for any hint of disapproval – finding, in its stead, only the vicious vicissitudes of time shaping the Englishman’s – now much older – visage: the lines stamped around his eyes, the creases furrowed between his brows, the silver bristles woven amongst the sable threads of his beard. ‘I would recognize you by voice alone, monsieur. The decade has been kind to you and I, let us dance whilst we still might.’ Finally, she believed, persuading him to dance, Madeleine released Julian from her gambit and glissaded coyly to his side, the picture of contentment – a woman in her element.

‘My passion for English dancing is not so very fine, do you remember still the volta? A favourite of ours, on the continent.’

[reina-santiago]

WHERE: Tonopah Medical Center WITH: @julianxnavarro

On one of those rare days when Reina picked up a day shift, needless to say she was running ragged hopping between this room and that. She might have been the float nurse on the schedule today, but that role had left her no shortage of work. Stepping out of the bathroom after finally getting two seconds to stop and pee for the first time since seven o’clock that morning, she immediately greeted by the triage nurse and chart being shoved in her face, “Rei, there’s a kiddo in room six– fell at school today and hurt his arm. Just looks like a bad sprain, but Dr. Gallagher will probably want you to wrap and splint it when you get a sec.” Taking the chart, Reina gave a doubtful hum– when you get a sec always meant right fucking now. There really was no rest for the wicked, but if she was being honest, Reina preferred it that way– at least it made the day go by faster.  She only glimpsed the chart long enough to take note of the kid’s first name scrawled at the top– Marcus– and knocked on the door to the exam room before letting herself in, “Hi, guys– my name’s Reina, I’m one of the nurses and who’ll be helping out today.” Setting the chart down on the counter, she crouched down beside the stretcher, hoping to get a little closer to eye level with the boy, “You must be Marcus– heard you fell at school. Was it the monkeybars? Gotta watch out for those, they’ll getcha every time,” she cautioned, offering up a small smile. Glancing over at the man beside him, Reina held out a hand in greeting, “And who do we have with you, Marcus? Is this Dad?” Seeing as the boy was the spitting image of the man, Reina figured it was a safe assumption to make.