Claire Keane
h
noise dept.
will byers stan first human second
Cosmic Funnies
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Product Placement
Jules of Nature
JVL
Misplaced Lens Cap
tannertan36
taylor price
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Love Begins
Kiana Khansmith
Sade Olutola
cherry valley forever
ojovivo
shark vs the universe
Cosimo Galluzzi
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Italy
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
@venus44us
I am having the worst day but scrolling through your art has made it so much better !
Could you maybe do a ghost doodle?
of course!! i hope you’re feeling better these days anon 🫂🫂
thought it’d be nice to share my simon interpretations with this!
i may be projecting but he is a HUGE magnum eater
aaron taylor johnson from anna karenina bc he looked so finnneeeee
john call-of-duty price experiencing the horrors, again.
messy Simon sketch
wip
idk how to color idk how to sketch and I hate how this looks but I want to post it and be able to look back at this and be like damn… I improved so much
Top secret
König.
boxing 2009 Simon Riley
dada
Trial and Error - Chapter 12 - venus4us - Call of Duty (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own] ---
He stayed and brought you breakfast. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving you. If not by your side, he knew he'd be constantly thinking about you, so why not stay? Price gave him the okay, a couple more days off and privacy. Your relationship was coming to light, but Simon didn't know if that was what he wanted.
It was after you finished your last blueberry that you asked, with small purple stains on your lips that Simon wished you'd let him softly wipe off, if you could leave the base. Not permanently, but as time passed you began missing the outside world that you never really knew.
The movies you watched and the books you were reading didn't help with lessening your imagination either.
"I'd have to ask Price and Kate," Simon started, his eyes locked on the paint left on your lips by the fruit. Just the stain, he totally wasn't just admiring your lips.
"Oh please!" You exclaimed, sliding the empty plate to the edge of your bed. "Can you ask, please? I have to get ready right now, I have to wash my hair, I have to pick cute outfit, I have to…" You rambled into the warm air and Simon watched, a gentle smile crept on his face. He still had the mask off and was letting you see every piece of him.
"Alright bug, I'll go ask," he stood from his chair and grabbed the empty plate, "Is there anything you want to do specifically?"
You shook your head, cheeks blushed with excitement.
"I want… I want to go shopping, and go to the library, and…" you thought for a moment, "Everything, Simon. I want to do everything."
His lips twitched when you said his name and he nodded. He announced his departure and said he'd return with, hopefully, good news.
At his absence you jumped out of bed and skipped to the bathroom. You quickly discarded your clothes and took a nice, warm shower. You washed your hair, de-tangling it with one of the brushes Kate had gotten you, and washed your face with a fancy wash that Kate (also) got you.
You didn't know what caused your sudden urge for adventure, perhaps the conversation of your past and having to retell memories that you never wanted to think about. Regardless, you were excited.
With your hair and body wrapped in towels you emerged from the shower and stared at what you could make out of yourself in the foggy mirror.
You wiped it with your free hand, and stared at yourself. You were free, you've been free. You found a home, and people who care about you.
You smiled.
—
You stood, mesmerized by the lights. Price and Kate had agreed to your wishes as long as they, Soap and Gaz could tag along as well, and Simon of course. Something about them all needing fresh air.
"This is our little town," Kate said with a gentle smile, "It's not much but it has everything you could need."
She was right, it was small. Most shops looked locally owned except a chain cafe or fast food spot, but you didn't care. Some still had on holiday lights, and you couldn't imagine how beautiful it would look at night time. You'd have to ask for that next.
"I'm goin to the pub," Soap grinned, "Gonna watch me the football game."
Gaz nodded and chased after Soap who had taken off in a sprint towards the bar that proudly waved the UK flag on its front.
"Those two…" Price shook his head with a chuckle, and then turned to you. "Kate and I are going to walk around, it's been a while for the both of us. Don't worry about the cost of anything, Simon has our card. Give us a call if you need anything, okay?"
You nodded, and Kate bid farewell too, walking next to Price. Simon stood next to you, black balaclava around his face and his hands stuffed into his cargo-pant pockets as he stared at you.
"What do you want to do?" You asked, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"This is about you."
You thought for a moment before turning around and looking at the streets in front of you.
A group of teenagers passed laughing loudly down the street, carrying shopping bags and cups of coffee. Someone rode by slowly on a bike with music playing faintly through cheap speakers. A couple sat outside a cafe beneath outdoor heaters despite the cold. Life moved around you in small, ordinary ways, and Simon noticed how your eyes followed every bit of it.
“There’s a park,” you said suddenly, pointing toward a small green space further down the road.
Simon glanced toward it. “Thrilling.”
You ignored him completely and immediately started walking.
The park was small, but charming in the way old towns tended to be. Bare winter trees stretched over winding stone paths, and a fountain sat frozen near the center beneath a thin layer of ice. Children ran across the grass despite the cold while exhausted parents watched from benches wrapped in scarves and heavy coats.
You slowed near the fountain, staring at it quietly.
Simon stopped beside you. “What?”
“I’ve never been to one before.”
His eyes flicked toward you.
“A park?”
You nodded absently. “Not like this.”
You crouched near the frozen edge of the fountain before looking back at him. "Do people really come here just to sit around?"
He hummed and nodded.
"And feed the birds?" You noticed them in groups before.
"Unfortunately."
Your laugh slipped softly from your lips, and Simon found himself staring again. He was doing too much of that lately.
A small flock of pigeons wandered nearby, and before Simon could stop you, you crouched lower and extended your hand toward them with complete sincerity.
“Don’t,” he warned immediately.
“Why?”
One of the pigeons flapped aggressively toward you. You got your answer.
You yelped and stumbled backward straight into Simon, who caught you automatically by the waist before you could slip on the icy pavement. Your back rested against his chest, close enough where he could smell your shampoo and conditioner from this morning.
He gently let go of your waist and watched your eyes track the birds as if you hadn’t just been pressed against his chest. Maybe he was lucky, and you hadn’t felt how fast his heart had started beating.
Eventually you continued down the street, stopping at nearly every shop window you passed. Simon followed behind with the patience of a man who'd already accepted defeat. He wouldn't admit it, but he was enjoying himself.
You dragged him into a tiny cafe next, where the smell of coffee and baked pastries wrapped around you both the second you stepped inside.
The girl behind the counter nearly dropped a cup when Simon walked in behind you.
You, however, looked entirely focused on the display case.
“There’s so many choices,” you whispered like it was a serious crisis.
Simon leaned one elbow against the counter. “Thought you wanted everything.”
“I do. That’s the problem.”
You ended up ordering hot chocolate topped with a generous amount of whipped cream, while Simon got black coffee. You sat near the window afterward, watching people pass by outside while warmth slowly returned to your fingers around the paper cup.
Simon watched the whipped cream cling to your upper lip after your first sip and his gaze lingered there a second too long.
You caught him staring.
“What?”
“Nothin’.”
“You’re staring at me.”
“Am not.”
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously before taking another drink anyway.
Simon looked away first.
Coward.
After the cafe, you found a pottery shop two streets over. Simon made the mistake of mentioning that he'd never tried it before, which somehow resulted in the two of you sitting side-by-side in front of spinning clay wheels less than twenty minutes later.
“This feels wrong,” Simon muttered while glaring at the lump of clay in front of him.
“You’re doing great.”
“It looks like a failing organ.”
You looked down at his misshapen attempt at a bowl before biting back a smile.
“It has character.”
“It has internal damage.”
Your own attempt wasn't much better, though significantly less tragic than Simon’s. Clay coated both your hands and part of your sleeve by the time you gave up trying to shape it properly.
At one point you laughed so hard at Simon’s destroyed pottery attempt that you accidentally smeared clay across your cheek. Simon stared.
“What?” You asked, a small head tilt.
Without answering, he reached over carefully and wiped the clay away with his thumb. The touch was gentle, but it left both of you strangely quiet afterward.
By late afternoon the sky had turned softer, clouds painted pale gold beneath the setting sun as the town lights slowly flickered on around you. Your excitement still hadn't faded despite the hours of walking.
When you spotted the bookstore tucked between a flower shop and an old tailor, your entire face brightened again.
“Oh,” you breathed immediately. Simon followed your gaze, and then you as you made your way to the store front.
The bell above the bookstore door chimed softly as you stepped inside. Warm air smelling faintly of dust, paper, and something else you couldn't name wrapped around you instantly. The place was narrow and cluttered in the comforting way independent bookstores always were, with uneven stacks of novels piled beside old wooden shelves that looked ready to collapse.
A sleepy orange cat barely lifted its head from atop the register as you entered.
Your attention moved everywhere at once. Simon watched you drift slowly through the aisles, fingertips brushing lightly across worn book spines as though touching them alone was enough to make you happy. Every few minutes you’d pull something from a shelf to inspect the cover before quietly showing it to him.
Simon followed behind at an easy pace with his hands buried inside his jacket pockets. He found himself paying less attention to the books and more attention to you. The way you tilted your head while reading summaries. The little crease between your brows when you concentrated. The quiet excitement that seemed to brighten your entire face every time you discovered something new.
It struck him suddenly how little it actually took to make you happy.
Near the back corner of the store sat a small section dedicated to local history. Old scrapbooks, newspapers, and archived photographs were piled carelessly across a long wooden table beneath a dusty lamp.
Curiosity immediately drew you toward it.
Simon leaned casually against a nearby shelf while you flipped open one of the old binders. At first you smiled faintly at the contents. Small-town festivals. Charity events. Local election scandals from years ago. The sort of harmless history nobody outside the town would ever care about.
But, your movement slowed and Simon instantly noticed when your fingers stopped against the edge of a page.
"Bug?"
You didn't answer.
Your eyes remained fixed on one particular newspaper clipping near the center of the page, and something about your expression made Simon straighten immediately.
He stepped closer.
The article was old enough that the paper had yellowed around the edges.
LOCAL CHILDREN STILL MISSING AFTER THREE WEEKS
Below the headline sat a photograph of five young children. Simon's eyes scanned across the faces automatically before stopping completely.
You.
The version of you in the picture couldn't have been older than eight. You stood in the front row between two other girls, smiling brightly into the camera with a backpack on one shoulder and a flower clip in your hair.
Children reported missing after failing to return home from school. Police investigation ongoing. Authorities urging residents to remain vigilant.
Your hand trembled faintly where it rested against the page.
“No…” you whispered, though it sounded less like denial and more like confusion.
Simon’s attention snapped toward you immediately. The temperature in the room dropped another degree. A thin layer of frost crept slowly across the edge of the newspaper beneath your fingertips.
You stared at the photograph like you were trying to force yourself to remember something that refused to come clearly.
“I know them,” you said quietly.
first drawing on the new ipad
havent drawn on my pc in years. need practice
🤨🤨 i like his back
im on 09x22 ghosts stuff btw and im having fun thanks for the vote
some fresh arts with Ghost
(I completely forgot to show the first one here, it's about two weeks old)
