oshyoideum - Tumblr blog

[oshyoideum]

i watched one (1) video on how to draw hands that changed my life forever. like. i can suddenly draw hands again

these were all drawn without reference btw. i can just. Understand Hands now (for the most part, im sure theres definitely inaccuracies). im a little baffled

[oshyoideum]

The best part about having a boyfriend in the military was having him home with you again after a long mission.

Simon was panting softly over you and his broad shoulders blocked your view, pumping in and out of you slowly to let you both savour the moment. You quiet whimpers and gasps echoed through the room as your legs remained wrapped around his waist and hands pawing at his back. When his movements stopped, his head dropping to your shoulder, you had to stop and focus on what was happening.

you thought that he had finished - if he did, that was okay! But it was just quicker than usual. “Simon? Honey, did you cum? It’s okay if you did, I can just-..”

your words were cut off when he shook his head against your shoulder. Your hands went into his hair and gently scratched at his scalp, pressing gentle kisses to his cheek. Inside, you could feel his cock soften slowly, his body still on yours as he kept his head on your shoulder.

“M’sorry, lovie…” his soft words echoed through the room as he went to try and continue his previous actions. Your hand went to grasp his, shaking your head as you wrapped your arms around him to hold him closer.

“Shhh…don’t worry, Si. Okay? Let’s just cuddle, yeah? We don’t have to have sex.” Your words were comforting, allowing him to relax completely with you. His body was pressed against yours as you kept scratching his scalp.

who needs sex when you have a big bear to cuddle?

[oshyoideum]

thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.

when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.

when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.

when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.

“sorry, love”

he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.

when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.

when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.

when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.

“in here, my love”

as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.

that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.

even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.

minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.

(and you are)

[oshyoideum]

what if we had Viking Soap ..?

[oshyoideum]

Horniness is not intrinsically less pure than any other human motivation

[oshyoideum]

soaps 🧼

[oshyoideum]

@roach-works // Melissa Broder, "Problem Area" // Mary Oliver, "The Return" // @annavonsyfert // Koyoharu Gotouge, Demon Slayer // Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance // David Levithan, How They Met and Other Stories // Tennessee Williams, Notebooks

[oshyoideum]

Mumma's boy

[oshyoideum]

Would murder for a whiskey

[oshyoideum]

they hate me for my slut waist and recurring self harming behavior

[oshyoideum]

My three girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.

[oshyoideum]

GOLD RUSH MASTERLIST

the woman from the picture. the woman from the late night movie he was absentmindedly watching on a late night. you. or: you have a stalker. Ghost is your bodyguard.

PAIRING: BODYGUARD!GHOST x ACTRESS!READER CW: MENTIONS OF STALKING/THREATS. PINING, OBLIVIOUS & PROTECTIVE SIMON. IMPLIED PTSD. adding info as i write!

1. Simon has a new assignment. 2. Simon lives up to the nickname. 3. Simon travels with you. 4. Simon takes you to the museum. 5. You're going out.

[oshyoideum]

[oshyoideum]

the self care industry will sell you face masks and teas and whatnot so i'm here to remind you not to forget the most important self care activity which is masturbation

[oshyoideum]

[oshyoideum]

I just think johnny could convince simon to wear a kilt

[oshyoideum]

IT'S (NOT) JUST SEX ft. SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

Warning(s): Sexual Content, AFAB!reader, (Sorta) Daddy Issues, Half&Half Proofread idk

Author's note: Guess I'm drowning in Simon right now, I just have so many ideas for him and honestly this is not original but fuck it I think it's cute mwah

"It's just sex."

But he's literally paying attention to every staccato of your moans, as he angles his hips perfectly to hit your sweet spot every fucking time. The way you arch your back, and your whimpers are elongating with every stroke, adding just the right amount of pressure to have you cumming all over his dick. And he doesn't even care if he's finishing anymore, as long as you're getting yours he's more than satisfied enough. And he's definitely not flipping you over on your back every time without fail just to see your pretty "o" face.

"It's just sex."

But he's waking up before you with your coffee exactly the way you like it, down to the milk preference, brand and roast. Your eggs perfectly fried, and a tender kiss to your temple asking you,

"How'd ya sleep, love?"

"It's just sex."

But he's always fixing your hair when it's out of place, the collar of your shirt when it's tucked in incorrectly and making sure he's holding your hand when you're crossing the street together.

"It's just sex."

But he's talking you down over the phone when you get into a catastrophic argument with your dad and moments later he's showing up at your door with your favorite snacks and beverages. His arms are enveloping you in the most snug bear hug, kissing your temple and rubbing your back while you cry it out. And then you're watching reruns of your favorite tv show and until you're passed out in his arms.

"It's just sex."

But he's letting you in. You're seeing all the sides of him that he never shows to anyone else. The scars under his mask, the way his lips curve up into a smile when you're doing you're little dance to oldies on the radio, and the genuine, hearty chuckle that effortlessly escapes his now loosened sternum.

"It's just sex."

But then you're under the steamy water coming out of his showerhead, as he sings in his off-key baritone while he suds up his loofa to clean you up after he fucked your brains out on his loveseat. Memorizing every mole, stretchmark, and crease in your skin as he's exfoliating your pretty skin.

But,

It's not just sex.

Because he's sitting there on the sofa, wondering how the fuck he ended up with the prettiest, vintage engagement ring you pointed out when you two were antiquing (antiquing? he doesn't bloody go antiquing) between his stout, scarred fingers, glittering in the moonlight and all.

"Si?"

He turns from the ring to the most stunning woman that's ever graced his miserable presence, leaning against the doorframe with his shirt hanging loosely over her thighs, hair disheveled in the cutest way humanly possible. Her playful smile etching into her dulcet features as she sucks in her bottom lip. Oh yeah, she's a fuckin' stunner.

"Are you coming back to bed?"

His eyes visibly softening as he drinks you in.

"Ya, dovie, I'll be right there." He murmurs, licking his dry lips, and you're already padding back to his room, making sure you sway your hips provocatively. That causes his lips to kick up into a genuine smile and a chuckle to escape his chest. And then he's up, carefully putting away the precious metal in a false bottom drawer under the utensils, and then he's jovially treading back to you. Face first into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, natural musk. He could bathe in this shit.

Fingers carding through his hair and he's oblivious to the knowing smirk on your sly face. That fucker thinks he's so slick.