#resting day

[torais-life]

7ma aliya-Parasha Bereshit(español)

¡Shabat Shalom a todos!. Les comparto los últimos versículos de esta semana. ¡Que tengan un hermoso día de descanso, de cercanía con Hashem, la Torah y sus familias!.

7ma sección: (Génesis) 5:25 - 6:8

25Metushélaj vivió 187 años, y tuvo un hijo, Lémej.

26Metushélaj vivió 782 años después de tener a Lémej, y tuvo hijos e hijas.

27Todos los días de Metushélaj fueron 969 años, y murió.

28Lémej vivió 182 años, y tuvo un hijo.

29Lo llamó Nóaj, diciendo: “Éste nos traerá consuelo de nuestro trabajo y de la angustia de nuestras manos, del suelo que Dios ha maldecido”.

30Lémej vivió 595 años después de tener a Nóaj, y tuvo hijos e hijas.

31Todos los días de Lémej fueron 777 años, y murió.

32Nóaj tenía 500 años, y Nóaj engendró a Shem, Jam y Iáfet.

Capítulo 6

1El hombre empezó a multiplicarse sobre la faz de la tierra, y les nacieron hijas.

2Los hijos de Dios vieron que las hijas del hombre eran buenas, y tomaron esposas de quienquiera que eligieran.

3Dijo Dios: “Mi espíritu no continuará juzgando al hombre para siempre, puesto que él no es nada sino carne. Sus días serán 120 años”.

4Los titanes estaban en la tierra en aquellos días y también después. Los hijos de Dios habían llegado a las hijas del hombre y los habían engendrado. [Los titanes] fueron los más poderosos que alguna vez existieron, hombres de renombre.

5Dios vio que la maldad del hombre sobre la tierra estaba aumentando. Todo impulso de su pensamiento más íntimo era sólo para el mal, todo el día.

6Dios se arrepintió de haber hecho al hombre en la tierra, y Se sintió afligido en Su mismísimo corazón.

7Dijo Dios: “Borraré a la humanidad que he creado de la faz de la tierra: hombre, ganado, animales de tierra y aves del cielo. Me arrepiento de haberlos creado”.

8Pero Nóaj halló favor a los ojos de Dios.

[bookwyrminspiration]

I can behave normally around books

[kosmogrl]

I've been worried ever since I was born

[hunxi-after-hours]

"If rest becomes a form of recovery from work, as is the case today, it loses its specific ontological value. It no longer represents an independent, higher form of existence and degenerates into a derivative of work. Today's compulsion of production perpetuates work and thus eliminates that sacred silence. Life becomes entirely profane, desecrated."

—Han Byung-Chul, The Disappearance of Rituals (trans. Daniel Steuer)

[nicolegmattos]

Michael “acting choices” Sheen serving as always lol

[korwolfie]

Sleeping Black Cat

[hinamie]

yuuji smiling and sukuna making a face like That did u really think i wouldn't do a panel redraw

[shotmrmiller]

size difference where the one afraid to fuck you is simon. he thinks you soft. which is what you are. soft. fragile. small.

you're not like him. nothing like the guys. battle-scarred. muscles carved by relentless missions, scars that speak of duty.

your skin divots under his fingers, yielding to his weathered touch and if he squeezes hard enough, you'll have marks by morning. (he needs to be careful, he can't hurt you, won't—)

and so simon watches you touch yourself in the beginning, clever fingers swirling over your slippery clit with practiced movements even though his cock is straining against his trousers painfully. he can hear you mewl his name through bitten lips and it takes all of his self control to not tug his jeans off, slot himself between your spread, inviting thighs and push— stretch open your fluttering walls, so hot and slick, until he meets resistance, until he can push no more but—

he can't. you'd hurt. and he'd hurt because he hurt you. he won't.

after, when your eyes are heavy lidded, mouth slightly parted in exertion, you remind him that you aren't made of glass. that you won't break. you'll shatter— in the way you do when his tongue replaces your fingers— but not break.

"not a virgin either, for christ's sake," you groan.

maybe he's thinking too hard about it. he knows your teeth have edges, knows your bite is swift when deserved. but all he's truly good at is making things give. biology made it so with his bulky frame and raw mass.

his eyes trace the contour of your collarbone. delicate. then it darts to the pulse on your wrist. vital. his hands, the size of dinner plates don't coax. they demand. he'd snap you like a twig, leaving nothing but splintered remains in his wake.

you don't seem to mind, however. it slightly alarms him. where's your self-preservation? do you enjoy pain? is this some masochistic thing?

he looks at you, all glassy eyed and dewy skinned (ethereal; you're practically glowing under the soft light of the full moon that paints the room silver) and he thinks of how it's going to take work to make it work. his cock is large (he's seen the guys' eyes pop out of their heads in the showers once they caught a glimpse of what's between his legs) but you're persistent in the end. one too many nights of having him without having him.

he understands. simon knows better than most what it's like to yearn. to want and not have. he'd cause you pain by not giving in, and cause pain by giving in. damned if he does, damned if he doesn't.

so he caves. promises to go slow. careful.

"i can take it," you bravely say but he's barely pressing himself to your entrance and you're already making noises that tug at his pathetic little heart. the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip-- you look so pretty, how'd a twisted creature like him get someone like you to come home to-- as his cock fills you has him feeling lightheaded. it takes every ounce of self control to not sink into your heat, to hook your legs around his thick waist and let gravity do the rest.

an unsteady hand weaves its way down to your stuffed cunt, fingers splitting into a vee, feeling how he splits your puffy lips, and the view makes him buck his hips involuntarily.

his hands tighten around your calves when you keen, a high pitched noise that swells the lust he feels burning white hot at the base of his spine, tips of his fingers, deep within his loins. he feels ready to burst.

and he's only halfway in.

your voice cuts through the ringing in his ears. "m-more, simon, c'mon," the n is low and drawn out.

his fingers bite into your flesh as he pushes slow, oh so slowly, until your vise-like cunt envelops him completely. the sibilant hiss you let out makes his hair stand on end. (shame pricks at his nerves like a thousand tiny needles when his cock twitches at the sound of your slightly pained moans)

simon doesn't move, feeling your swollen walls around his cock ripple, tighten and slacken, like it's got a pulse of its own. he could be here, in you, cock deep in paradise for the rest of time.

"fuck me," you warble out, hand rubbing your swollen clit to well up the pleasure that's being smothered by the searing pang of discomfort.

when simon cants his hips back, he watches his cock come out of you, glistening with slick. his jaw aches from how hard he's clenching it. control. got to keep it slow, gentle. slow, simon, slow, slow--

"harder."

he feels the sudden sharp sting of your nails and jerks forward in surprise, filling you completely in one fast movement.

your moan this time is needy, thick with want, arousal dripping from your voice as it does your pussy, coating him in creamy white, a frothy ring at the root.

simon can see the barest of bumps below your navel, or maybe he's seeing things, your hot cunt putting him in a state of delirium but the way you take all of his cock and continue to beg for more, beg him to fuck you like he means it even though he's twice if not thrice your size well...

you'll just have to forgive him on the finger-shaped bruises they're going to be on your body after.

(you'd looked so cheeky before he flipped you onto your knees, grabbing onto your delicate neck like a lifeline as he pulled your hips to meet his. you'd taken him easier here, cunt sodden with slick but the angle had him reaching a devastating depth no one else could ever dream of reaching and even though it'd sprung tears to the corners of your eyes at the pinch, "mama ain't raise no bitch.")

[stuckinapril]

Sometimes you just have to look at someone who’s being unnecessarily rude or unkind or hostile towards you & wrinkle your nose & go “it’s not that deep. you’re so weird for thinking it’s that deep” & then go back to your happy fulfilling life that will forever be independent of how people perceive u

[aiburr]

monsters can go to the surface (twitter), but the night vale residents cannot/don't want to get out of town (tumblr)

[marisatomay]

there should be an oscar category called “movie my dad completed without falling asleep on the couch” and it’s more prestigious and contentious than best picture

[ash-and-starlight]

The world needs more Yue and Zuko friendship, I squeal just thinking abt the parallels. They deserve a life changing field trip together and if u have abt ideas I’m all ears 👀

Hiii anon this ask fermented in my inbox and in my brain for so long,, so take this??? Post canon yue lives/no war au arts?? Anyway aside from the Parallels and their political position & their duty before hoes grindset I think they could learn a lot from each other. With zuko learning the gift of patience & diplomacy from yue & Yue learning that allowing yourself to feel anger and speaking up can actually be Good.

anyway hypothetical life changing trip outcome: zuko takes an intro gender studies class and yue says fuck

(oh and also must not forget the crush on sokka)

[lonicera-caprifolium]

can I interest you in some conversation hearts? 💗💗💗

[eggsdoodz]

eggsdoodz 🤝 comfy bed doodles

[ghost-bxrd]

Let’s amp up the “Jason says ow and the batfam thinks he must be gravely injured” headcanon.

Jason calls Bruce or Dick for fun and says nothing but “goodbye” before hanging up (maybe it’s a dare by Roy who TOTALLY suspects the reaction Jay is gonna get).

Ten minutes late the entire Justice League is scouring Gotham, on the hunt for Jason.

[florbe-triz]

Finally!! let me share with you the Trigun playlist I made! It's called NoMan's Land and you can listen to it HERE It's an evergrowing playlist, hope you enjoy!