#julian / 001.

[silascody]

silas 📲 julian.

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

[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!"

[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 ?

[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.”

[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.

[detbell]

Starter for: @berkeleys​

Location: Dark Elite

From the moment he saw his face, William just knew he didn’t like Julian Berkeley. Something just rubbed him entirely the wrong way, and he certainly didn’t care much for the man’s politics. But still, as with many people Will didn’t like, he simply had to play nice. It was the reason he found himself shaking Julian’s hand, observing the Governor’s costume. “Between you and me, I don’t think many people in this room are going to get the reference,” he said, gesturing to the outfit. “The younger generations don’t have an appreciation for the classics.”

[jonahxrivas]

for: @julianrchandlerx​ time + location: puck’s luck, new year’s eve

Having already lost most of his quarters to the the slots, Jonah, for reason no other than simply because he was here and it seemed like a fun idea at the time, cashed out a crisp five dollar note for a stack of chips. And they held their structure as a stack until he sat in at one of the tables and saw them disappear as quick as blinks. “Ah shucks...” Was uttered far too often, except on the occasion he won a round, a rare sight but two loses seemed to follow for every win he had. Twirling the last chip between his fingers, he turned to the person next to him, “You think there’s a trick to it or just luck? Puck doesn’t seem to be on my side here...”

[maliaxwoodard]

CLOSED STARTER

LOCATION: The zoo TIME: Saturday afternoon FOR: @juliansdamico

Malia's heart did a little flip-flop when she spotted Leilani zooming off like a tiny rocket, heading straight for some poor unsuspecting stranger. Before she could even blink, her little girl had latched onto the man's pant leg, tugging away like it was a new zoo exhibit. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!" she said, trying to gently pry Leilani's surprisingly strong fingers from the fabric. "Leilani, sweetie, we don't grab strangers." She glanced up at the man, her eyes practically screaming, Please don't think I'm a terrible parent! "She's just so excited about the animals. I swear, I turned my back for one second and I hope she didn't startle you too much."

[blucfviry]

starter fechado para @circket ! › ❛ you owe me a dinner. a very nice dinner. ❜ — local: seren's herb & tea shop (área residencial).

Os olhos de Seren ainda brilhavam em direção ao cesto trazido por Julian, cuidadosamente colocado na bancada de sua cozinha. Andava extremamente ocupada. Era como se todas as pessoas da Floresta Encantada estivessem precisando de algo especial de sua loja naquela semana; ervas, especiarias, flores, poções, que não mantinha em estoque - ao menos desde que sua loja fora roubada alguns meses atrás. Não tinha tempo para todos, era fato, então, poder contar com Julian para lhe dar uma "mãozinha" com os pedidos acumulados era sempre bem apreciado. A missão da vez consistia em colher alguns exemplares de Semper augustus, florzinha rara e bem difícil de se manipular, caso não saiba o que está fazendo - felizmente, o ex-grilo era um excelente aluno.

"Já lhe devo múltiplos jantares, Julian...", um sorriso genuíno marcara seu rosto. "Você é sempre muito prestativo, e sou muito grata por isso", recolheu o cesto - o aroma das tulipas incensaram o ambiente - para levá-lo ao estoque da loja. "Porque não fica para jantar hoje?", ponderara, virando-se em direção a ele antes de atravessar a porta que conectava a área residencial à área comercial de sua loja. "Se não tiver outros afazeres, é claro."

[existentialterror]

Hiii I’m Normal about Dr. Iceberg (red flag, I know) but his name being Julian is complete fanon! Idk where it originally came from, but he’s never referred to as Julian Finn in any onsite tale. The only time he’s been named on the wiki, as far as I know, is when he is called Ellis Gill in a tale called “But We Do Not Talk About That”. While last updated in 2022, was originally written in 2015. Why that name never caught on, I don’t know, but I’m kind of glad. Despite Iceberg being a misogynistic piece of shit, I’m intrigued by the fact that so much is unknown about his character.

Giving him a name detracts from the horror of his story, someone who was once a person being filed down and reshaped to fit a role perfectly, only to snap under pressure and take his own life. And then, if you go with the Resurrection canon/the calm tale, he gets brought back as a cyborg (Cyberg?) that blatantly states it doesn’t have a name. He can’t escape the foundation, even in death.

I’ll cut myself off there— If I don’t, I’m liable to write an entire novel in your inbox.

Fun fish fact (since, if I remember correctly, that is the toll for sending an ask): Lampreys have been around for 400 million years, and haven’t evolved much during that time!

(I forgot about this for a while, sorry!) (In response to this exchange with @scp-l4-clef-alto-001.)

YOOOO Nice research! Today I learned. Thank you! I don't think I'd heard "Finn" before, but I believe you that it's out there. Also thank you for the fish facts. The fish facts are not necessary to send me an ask but are MUCH appreciated. The hagfish is the relative of the lamprey and is another old jawless fish. It has two powers: producing LOTS of mucus, and tying itself in knots, both overhand and underhand. I'm gonna have to read more about ciguatoxins. ❤️🐟

Hey, in exchange for the nice ask and the research, here's a snippet I wrote a long time ago about Sophia Light and your guy. (I like him too! I think he's really interesting.) It's set in the Resurrection canon but back in the past, not long after Dr. Light was recruited to the Foundation. (Might end up on the site eventually but I hate to promise. If nothing else, you know, have this.)

-------------------

1997

Light shows up to her appointments on time. She’s trying out this business of being a person again, really giving it her all, and that’s one of the things she decides: she shows up on time. 

She’s at the entrance to Research five minutes before her assignment today. There are other two people there: a pretty woman with waves of black hair in business casual behind the receptionist deck, and a pretty man in a labcoat whose spiky hair is bleached at the tips. They’re flirting.

No, that’s not true. The man is flirting, voraciously, draped over the desk to get closer. The woman is listening, and looks bored, and tired. She catches Light’s eye, and rolls her eyes.

Light recognizes this situation from the before-world. She knows what to do. She squares her shoulders and walks right up to them. With the energy of a woman who realized yesterday that she has permanent institutional access to every academic journal ever, and has not regretted any sleep- or non-sleep-related decisions made since then, she says, “So do you know about sail jellyfish?”

She proceeds to tell the man about them, at length, for five straight minutes. The man is confused and unhappy but apparently transfixed. The woman restrains herself from laughing and drifts back to her computer screen.

“ - So that’s why the asymmetry is actually a fitness advantage,” she says, “So that they react differently to the same wind patterns and they won’t risk washing ashore. But because that’s basically random, the evolutionary pressure maintains a 50-50 balance.”

“Cool beans,” says the man, whose eyes have glazed over. “Hey, I gotta go, I’ve gotta meet up with someone - uh, Dr. Light, I think - ”

“I am Dr. Light,” Light says. 

The woman doesn’t bother muffling her guffaw. The man - Dr. Iceberg, presumably - looks uncomfortable and then flustered. Light mentally congratulates herself.

“You two are in the dissection room today, right?” the woman says, checking her computer. “Should be set up. Use the cart to move samples, do not lift large samples yourself, I do not care how strong you are, please and thank you. Decon’s ready, just go through the back. One at a time. Ice, you first.”

“Isn’t it set up for multiple people? There’s all the showers and everything - ”

The secretary shrugs. “New policy. Now get out of my sight, Ice.”

“Always good to see you, Break.” Iceberg shoots finger guns at her, as he heads to the decon room entrance.

“Drop dead,” Break calls after him.

They wait for the sounds of the door opening and closing. Break grins at Light. “Thanks for the spiel,” she says. “You got one of those locked and loaded all the time?”

“Usually you have to ask nicely first,” Light says, automatically, because affected confidence was sort of her go-to before, and it seems to be working for her so far. Then she remembers that the last thing this poor woman needs is someone else ambiguously hitting on her and feels bad. But Break just laughs.

“You know that guy?” Break asks.

“I’ve seen him around, I think? I’m - I’m bad with faces.”

“Yeah. Dr. Iceberg. He’s like that. Been a thorn in my fucking side for years. You know, the Foundation is usually pretty good about this kind of thing, in my experience. But Ice, he’s like, Gears’ special little boy, so he can get away with murder.”

Light is confused. “He’s Gears’ son?”

“No, god no - like, you know, he’s… he’s Gears’. …Doesn’t matter. I thought Ice got better for a while there, but it looks like he’s back on his bullshit.”

“Ugh,” Light agrees. 

The bulb over the decon chamber entrance turns green. Break tilts her head at it. “You’re doing, like, an autopsy, right?”

“A necropsy - uh, yeah.”

“Well, that’ll probably bring the mood down, you’ll be fine. He’s not the worst, honestly. But if you need, just say the word ‘Ice’ into the lab comms and I’ll fake an evac drill or something to get you out.”

“Thanks,” says Light. She tries to figure out how serious Break is. Break’s permanent wry plausibly-deniable customer service smile offers no hint.

Maybe Light’s overconfident. Maybe this whole business of being a person again has made her cocky. Perhaps she’s been away from a normal social fabric for so long that she’s lost sense of real implications and rules. But she finds she’s not too worried. “I think it’ll be fine,” she tells Break. “I have a lot more jellyfish facts.”

Break laughs, loudly. “Attagirl.” She waves Light into the decon chamber.

[comicwaren]

From Amazing Spider-Man Gang War: First Strike #001

Art by Joey Vazquez, Julian Shaw and Bryan Valenza

Written by Zeb Wells and Cody Ziglar