#it's Jules!!

[vonlipvig]

WE NEED TO KILL HIM

[zegalba]

Etienne-Jules Mare: Vol de Héron (1883)

[clara-scintilla]

Captain Nemo

I drew this piece in 2019, and although I can see lots of mistakes and imperfections, it's still one of my favourite artworks

[zvdvdlvr]

imagine ur bd being out of the picture and your little girl running up to si ☹️🤍

   “Daddy!”

   Simon looked down, eyes wide at the little girl wrapped around his right leg. Johnny eyed him carefully. He was thankful none of the other café patrons paid any mind. “I’m not your daddy, love,” Simon said. He tugged his leg away gently but the strength of a child is hard to match.

     “Annalise, get off that man,” a woman cried. In the blink of an eye, she knelt near Simon’s leg and tugged the child away.

     “Dada!” She shrieked. Annalise’s chubby hands reached out for Simon’s. “Is dada, mama!”

     You shook your head. “I- I’m so sorry, sir. Her dad was in the military. Anna thinks everyone in fatigues is dada… Do you want me to get either of you a coffee to pay you back? I’m truly sorry.”

     Soap discreetly elbowed Simon harshly in the side. “‘M quite alrigh’ lass. Simon, here, would take a coffee if your serious. If you��ll excuse me, I got to go. Bye, little lassie,” the Scot rushed, face lightinf up at the way Annalise giggled as his parting.

     Annalise was still cooing and reaching for Simon. You just shifted her on your hip and rubbed her back. “Simon, yeah?”

     “That’s me, ma’am,” Simon nodded, feeling suddenly extremely exposed without the balaclava he had decided not to wear for one single occasion. “You don’t have to pay me back-“

     “Nonsense. I would feel like a bad person if I just let my kid latch herself onto your left and call you dad and then just swoop her up and leave,” you said, reaching for your wallet before walking over to the ordering counter. “What can I get you?”

     Simon ordered a small of his usual, watching you pull the money from your wallet without glancing at how much it costed. He observed you in that split second- a beautiful baby girl on your hip who thought any man in camo was her dad. So he had been in the service… Simon watched you smile kindly at the teen behind the counter who fumbled for your change. You murmured a quiet, “It’s quite alright, take your time.” A well-mannered, well put-together individual who was also very attractive. Simon knew what Johnny was doing when he left and Simon would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought you were a catch.

     “I seriously appreciate the coffee, ma’am, but it was unnecessary,” Simon said as you tucked your change back and waited for the drink. “As long as the kid’s alrigh’, I don’t need anything in return.”

     You smiled. You smiled at Simon and he swore his cold heart jumped in his chest. Clearly your bright smile disarmed Annalise as much as Simon because she let out a bubbly laugh and put her hands on your cheek. “What if I said I wanted to?” You asked coyly.

     Simon watched Annalise play with a baby hair near your face. “Then I’d say it’d be a cruel thing to tell a gorgeous woman no.”

[uhhgoodd]

Young Woman With Sword by Jules-Élie Delaunay (1828-1891)

[life-imitates-art-far-more]

Jules Joseph Lefebvre (1836-1911) "Psyché" Oil on panel Currently in a private collection

[bruscled]

[the-evil-clergyman]

Judith by Jules Joseph Lefebvre (1892)

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

i love it when they let jules be insane too

[submattenthusiast]

public - christopher sturniolo

"y'feel me rubbing against your ass mama" chris whispered into your ear. the raspiness of his voice made the hairs on your neck stand and sent chilling shivers down your spine. plus the subtle neediness that came out with the casual use of the pet name. textured fingertips pressing into your hips as he rubbed his dick against you shamelessly. not caring that there was people around and you were in the middle of the crowded store. disgusted stares were shot his way but he gave no fucks, as he expressed strongly. "have some decency" you scolded, pushing his grabby hands away from your body.

the cute vintage looking ed hardy shirt caught your eye, distracting you momentarily from the visions of his dick running through your head. you immediately stopped at the rack to squeeze it out from in between the bigger clothes beside it. interrupting your shopping again, chris snuck up behind you. placing his head on your shoulder he complimented, "like that shirt, you'd look hot in it". brown hair and stubble tickling your neck and cheek as he talked. leaning into his firm chest you sigh, "yeah i like it too but it looks a little small y'know?". with a dirty smile he responded, "the smaller the better, your tits will look amazing". as if his statement wasn't vulgar enough, he gave the tits in question a quick squeeze.

putting on a front was a specialty of yours and it came in handy in this moment. his blatant boldness and horniness was soaking your panties. but he didn't and wouldn't have to know that. smacking his hands away, you groan. "do you have shame?". it was a rhetorical question really but you still expected a response. a chuckle is all he mustered up. "the shirt, yes or no", "yes. it's got my dick hard" he mumbled. the security camera above caught all of this lewdness, catching his dirty comments, catching his pink lips as they kissed up your neck, catching his eager hips grinding against your ass.

the minor acts voyeurism caught the attention of others, easily. the staring and scoffs made you slightly insecure and ruined the fun—at least for you. chris was still dry humping you with no care in the world. "people are staring jackass, stop" you whisper, breaking away from him. your break away attempt was short lasting unfortunately. soon as you stopped again, he was back on you. this time just pressing his dick against you. "i don't give a fuck, let em watch" he nonchalantly states. though the idea turned you on, you weren't that much of a slut to fuck him in the middle of a thrift store.

the metal colored his palms red as he caught the assortment of keys. his raised eyebrow questioned you before he could. "go jerk off in the car since you're into people watching" you state, walking away from the horny boy. his loud cackle brought more attention onto you both—annoyingly. jerking your head to the side you waited for him to leave, so you could finish your shopping. turning to the other shoppers he boldly stated "i'll film it for y'all, so you won't miss out on the show"

[frodo-a-gogo]

Thought Project: Relapse [pt 1] [pt 2]

Buy Ly Ri a Coffee. ko-fi.com/lyriordan

[vonlipvig]

the severed pregnant lady side plot in severance is so crazy like. if i think about it for a second my brain explodes.

[mrtequilasunset]

Jules treating harry the kindest of all his colleagues is something that isn't talked about enough

[mournfulroses]

Jules Laforgue, from Modern Poets of France: An Anthology; "Lament on certain displaced Times,"

[zvdvdlvr]

thinkin about emotionally strong reader falling apart into bf’s arms… :,)

     He knows it’s bad when you can’t bring yourself to say anything: no witty remarks to play it off, no humble shrug to show that it didn’t phase you- not even a weak joke that you’d heard from passerby during the previous week. He would have known anyway but he knows how bad it is when you can’t hide the wobble in your chin when you meet him at the door and melt into his arms.

     The sound of your stifled cries weaken his heart because he just knows how long you’ve been trying to hold it all together. You don’t know that he sheds his own tears at your sorrow. You don’t know that he feels his own pained heart grow just a touch because you trust him enough to be able to comfort you- to run to him when there is something you really can’t make better.

     When you finally stop trying to smother out the sound of your cries, it breaks his own heart into pieces because your grief is his. He doesn’t know what to do in this pile on the floor- your arms wrapped tightly around him in fear of him leaving with one hand resting at the top of your head and the other one of his hands supporting your neck as you weep into his shoulder- so he just holds you.

     And later, when your cries turn hoarse and the tears run dry, you let him pull you to your feet. He carries you to the dark bedroom because he knows you get headaches after crying. When you still don’t say a word he goes to the kitchen and scavenges some Tylenol and a cup of water.

     He knows you don’t like to feel helpless- to feel like you need to rely on someone. But if he’s being honest, he likes being able to care for you. He likes how you curl up with your head on his chest and your hands wrapped around him. He likes how you let him draw shapes on your back because you secretly love the physical touch. He likes how you let out soft sighs throughout the course of the movie because he knows you’re still awake.

     But most of all, he likes the intamacy of being the one you run to when it’s all too much because damn it all to hell if he made you feel like you weren’t free to be vulnerable with him.

[weirdlookindog]

Martin van Maële (1863–1926) - vignette from Jules Michelet’s ‘La Sorcière’, 1911 edition