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Não faz sentido olhar para trás e pensar: devia ter feito isso ou aquilo, devia ter estado lá. Isso não importa. Vamos inventar o amanhã, e parar de nos preocupar com o passado.
—  Steve Jobs

Com os pés juntos em cima da pequena escada, Changwook se esforçava para organizar os livros do carrinho na última prateleira da estante, e perdeu o equilíbrio quando um dos livros de capa dura praticamente voou e acertou a cabeça de alguém que passava pelo corredor.
— Ah, desculpe! — Desceu os degraus da escadinha e expressou olhos preocupados à pessoa desconhecida. — Minha nossa, eu sou muito desastrado mesmo, desculpe novamente. Está doendo?

Concept: Lesbian cowgirl rom-com. Because honestly, A job that allows for/requires wearing leather boots and plaid flannel, and spending more time among animals and wilderness than other people is some of the most lesbian shit I can think of.

madgalriri  asked:

Hey!!!! I remember a while ago u mentioned this website with updated fashion job openings for magazines etc. and I forgot the name, could u remind me??


http://ed2010.com/whisper-jobs/ (you have to make an account now to see everything but its free)


https://freefashioninternships.com (this is more for internships / paid + unpaid, also it sounds fake but I’ve gotten paid freelance jobs off of it lol) 

Não faz sentido olhar para trás e pensar: devia ter feito isso ou aquilo, devia ter estado lá. Isso não importa. Vamos inventar o amanhã, e parar de nos preocupar com o passado.
—  Steve Jobs

i don’t think i’ve ever formally met Roberto but i just found out that when he works the greeter desk he adds nice little notes to consultants on people’s appointment forms!!!!! some girl asked to have two hours w me to get math help and this is what Roberto put on the form……………… i literally cried

The 501st held their position on a ridge overlooking the darkening plains of Qadiish. Shelter erected and vehicles staged, they were biding their time until the 212th joined them for a joint assault. And with nothing to do but wait, the encroaching, thick purple-tinted clouds snuffing out the setting sun caught everyone’s attention.

A peal of thunder shook the ground; lightning indiscriminately scorched the plains behind a curtain of rain steadily marching closer. Captain Rex eyed the impending deluge as he wove through the camp ordering his men to safety. The wind soon swept away his commands so badly that he switched to in-helmet communication just to talk to the soldier in front of him.

He reentered the command tent to another ground-quaking clap of thunder. The GAR, notoriously cheap with equipment, at least made sturdy tents— decent enough that Rex could speak freely with his Jedi leadership who lacked the advantage of clone trooper helmets.

General Skywalker fiddled with the clunky communications terminal trying to establish a connection through the incoming storm. The coms officer whose job Skywalker stole stood helplessly off to the side. Ahsoka sat by the wall, her montrals in her hands and her pinched expression displaying her gritted teeth.

Rex took a knee next to her. “What’s wrong, littl'un? Afraid of storms?” He laid a hand on her shoulder as another threatening grumble shook the earth. Ahsoka winced.

“Not fear— pain,” she said. “The thunder’s giving me a splitting headache.”

Rex didn’t know as much as he would’ve liked to admit about Togrutan montrals, but so far he grasped that they were much more sensitive than human ears and enabled a sort of echolocation. Loud sounds in addition to the building weather pressure would affect her the most out of anyone in the company.

He gave her shoulder a beckoning pull. “Here, come with me.”

The wind whipped Rex’s kama and even Ahsoka’s lekku around as she followed him to the staged LAAT/i gunships. He opened the side door to one and nodded inside to the empty deckplate, but she just looked at him with quirked eye markings.

“If you shut yourself in, you’ll barely hear the thunder!” he shouted over the howl of the looming storm. The wind made a valiant attempt at snatching his voice right from the vents of his helmet. “They protect us from space; they’ll certainly dampen the noise!”

Ahsoka stepped into the gunship in a lurch, as if pushed by the elements. Her wide eyes fell on Rex, eye markings bent nearly as helplessly as her shoulders.

“All alone?”

Every once in awhile it surprised him that his fierce little commander still had reservations like the rest of them. So it surprised him less that he climbed onto the deckplate after her and sealed them both in.

Inorganic red light bathed the two occupants as they stood silently. The raging wind was barely a whisper now; the thunder sounded as far away as the horizon. The only telltale sign of the storm was the occasional shiver of the LAAT/i as it rested on the ground.

“This is better,” Ahsoka decided with the faintest smile sparking on her face. For some reason, that alone made his effort worth it.

Ahsoka sat with her back against the door before motioning for Rex to take a seat next to her. He obeyed, and they waited out the storm together. 

How I imagine the opening scene of Queen of Shadows (ToG #4) will go
  • Aelin: [gets off boat]
  • Aelin: [sees Dorian under the Kings control]
  • Aelin: [to Chaol] Oh come on, you had one job!
Para quê alcançar os astros?! Para quê?! Para os desfolhar, por exemplo, como grandes flores de luz! Vê-los, vê-os toda a gente. De que serve então ser poeta se se é igual à outra gente toda, ao rebanho?… Eu não peço à Vida nada que ela me não tivesse prometido, e detesto-a e desdenho-a porque não soube cumprir nem uma das suas promessas em que, ingenuamente, acreditei, porque me mentiu, porque me traiu sempre. Mas não choro, não, como os portugueses chorões, não tenho nada de Jere­mias, pareço-me antes com Job, revoltado, gritando impreca­ções no seu monte de estrume. Não gosto de lágrimas, de fados nem de guitarras, gosto das belas coisas claras e sim­ples, das grandes ternuras perfeitas, das doces compreensões silenciosas, gosto de tudo, enfim, onde encontro um pouco de Beleza e de Verdade, de tudo menos do bípede humano, em geral, é claro, porque há ainda no mundo, graças a Deus, almas-astros onde eu gosto de me reflectir, almas de sinceridade e de pureza sobre as quais adoro debruçar a minha.
—  Florbela Espanca | Gosto das Belas coisas Claras e Simples.

anonymous asked:

Do you think you can do one where Stiles is being v grumpy or irritated and it's getting on everyone's nerves so Derek has to calm him down, like fingering him until he's crying and calm? Thanks: x

Your wish is my command sweet anon :)  

“Are you going to tell me what’s your problem now?”

No,” Stiles’ groaned, his face was buried in Derek’s neck. It was embarrassing for him to be this close while only sitting on Derek’s lap while the older man held him. “I-I don’t have a pr-ahhh-blem”

Derek snorts, continuing to hold the boy down by his waist and massage the nerve that has Stiles close to tears. “You’ve been a brat this whole week what’s wrong with you?“ 

"This is foul play,” Stiles moaned,  he tightens his arms around Derek’s shoulders and rocked his hips forwards. “You’re doing this to get information out of me and it’s not going to work." 

"If you want to think that,” Derek whispered as he licked Stiles’ neck. He started nibbled at his pulse, biting the skin while his fingers continued to fuck in and out of Stiles’ hole. He could hear the boy’s heart rate pick up faster and continued his job. “Com’ on Stiles, tell me what’s wrong." 

"You’re teasing me.” Stiles choked out, the tears pricked his eyes as he felt Derek go back to rubbing his prostate. He let out a wet sound that got caught in somewhere in his throat when Derek started kissing his shoulder. “Why are you teasing me?" 

The sound of Derek’s small laugh made Stiles’ chest warm, it was always a sound that made him feel good. "Why were you acting like an ass this week?" 

"You -fuck Der, please don’t stop. Please, please, please,” Stiles started babbling. It was getting too much, he couldn’t even think about how good it all was. “I’m sorry for acting like a brat but please don’t stop." 

It was the sobbing that caught Derek’s attention. Stiles started crying as his hips rocked trying to meet with Derek’s fingers. Derek held his hip down tighter, causing Stiles to be held right where Derek wanted him. He started rubbing the bundle of nerves relentlessly. 

Stiles couldn’t take it, his arms kept spasming since he didn’t know what to do with them.  He was whining in Derek’s ear, calling his name and fuck Derek, please. He could feel his orgasm start off fast but continued on slow as Derek kept going.

"Nghhh,” Stiles dropped his head back into Derek’s neck, lazily mouthing at his skin while the man kept going. “Der." 

Derek took in Stiles’ scent, now washed with calm, pines and happiness. He tapped the prostate twice before he slowly pulled out and gently maneuvered Stiles until he was on his back on the couch. The boy looked so much calmer and younger. His lips were red bitten raw and his Bambi eyes were huge on his face. 

Stiles stared back at Derek, the elder raising his judgemental eyebrows, and sighed. "I didn’t get into the program.” He mumbled. “The director said that my scores were excellent and that I was one of the best people that they ever perceived but when he was going over my application and noticed my sexual orientation it seemed like all that wasn’t good enough anymore." 

Before Derek could even let the smell of hurt fully hit his nose, he captured Stiles’ lips in his. He kissed the boy soft and with purpose. There was a soft whine from Stiles when he bit the boy’s bottom lip and tugged on it gently. 

"Don’t let that stop you,” Derek said after he pulled back. He captured Stiles’ face in his hands before the boy could even tuck in his shoulder. “Don’t. You’re one of the smartest people I know, always thinking and proving himself. Don’t let some fucking homophobic prick make you think any less of yourself.” Derek kissed Stiles’ lips again but then moved to his nose, his cheeks and then his forehead. “You’re a brilliant person, Stiles, don’t let this stop you from achieving your goals." 

"You have to say that, you’re my boyfriend,” Stiles said, but the wobble in his voice gave him away. 

“You’re right, but I wouldn’t lie to you” Derek looked into the brown -fuck maybe hazel, coffee- eyes and smiled. “there’s no reason for me to lie to you." 

Stiles looked at Derek like he was searching for something. When Derek think he found it, he was pulled down onto Stiles and held there tightly. He let Stiles hold onto him with a vice grip and bury his face back into the man’s neck. He ran his hands up and down Stiles’ side softly, taking in the soft breaths from his boyfriend. 

And if that Monday afternoon after Stiles’ last class, he got a phone call from the director of the program saying that Stiles was admitted and when he got home to see that Derek had his favorite cake waiting for him in the kitchen. 

Derek acted clueless on the thank-you-my-protective-alpha-boyfriend-i-love-you blow job he got that night. 

Business Insider Went Inside a Business
That business was Tumblr. Witness the offices of Tumblr!
By Madeline Stone

“We essentially wanted it to feel like Tumblr the site,” Megan Leet, Tumblr’s head of office experience and events, said to Business Insider. “We like simplicity, but we really wanted to capture Tumblr’s eclectic, fun nature.”

Experience the physical sensation of tumblr dot com: tumblr.com/jobs.

Não faz sentido olhar para trás e pensar: devia ter feito isso ou aquilo, devia ter estado lá. Isso não importa. Vamos inventar o amanhã, e parar de nos preocupar com o passado.
—  Steve Jobs