•wake up early in the morning
•do some kind of activity - go running, walk your dog, etc.
•drink lots of water to boost your productivity
•read more books
•listen to inspiring music
•clean your home/apartment for 15-20 minutes daily
•consume fresh fruits and vegetables every day
•prepare your own food - read more about healty eating, check out new recipies, cook with love
•reward yourself, celebrate little victories - you’ve made it out of bed today, you washed your face and you had the strength to wake up and embrace the new day
•go out, make new friends, be social
•pick a diary and a beautiful pencil to write down how your day has been before you go to sleep
•go to bed earlier
•make plans for the next day - do something you’ve never done before. When was the last time you tried something diferent?
Tech giants in Silicon Valley have intensified income inequality, displacing low-income and working-class families —
but some high-earning engineers want you to know they’re suffering too.
They helped create a bubble, and now they have to buy $8 bagels in it.
published a story on Monday illustrating the woes of wealthy engineers
in Silicon Valley who feel they are just “scraping by” due to rising
rents in the area.
For the piece, a handful of tech workers discussed
their struggles to achieve the “American dream” due to an increase in
housing prices. Concerned about rising property prices, they’ve had to
make sacrifices — like ditching their daily $12 fresh-pressed juice. Read more (Opinion)
this is my first smut ever, so, i’m sorry if it sucks ass, lmao. this was mainly requested by @writing-obrien so bam, here’s some rough tommy for you. please tell me if you want me to continue this or keep it as is!
Folding the final rag neatly, you felt your eyes drift away from your work. This was the fifteenth time, the fifteenth time you had done this. You were just so distracted, so bored by your duties, because with the sight you had in front of you right now, there was nothing more you desired to do than to rip the rag to shreds and ditch your chores. You groaned, knowing that there was plenty more to do, feeling repugnant at the idea of doing the daily chores that would’ve otherwise been no hassle at all. But, you looked at him, you gawked at him, from afar, almost offended at how he knew he was doing this to you. He was nothing short of entirely aware of the things he was doing to you, the things he was making you think. Memories of last night flashed through your mind briefly as you lifted the browned water, the metallic scent of iron filling your nostrils distastefully.
“Give it to me.” He grunted through gritted teeth, his hands clasped bruisingly firm on the curve of your hips, his hips jerking forward at such inconceivable strength and speeds, pounding into you relentlessly. Thomas edged you closer to the edge, thrust by thrust, your legs going numb from the awkward positioning of the uneven ground, your fingers digging into the rough bark of the tree for leverage. “Fuck.” He spat from beneath his rough pants, concentration riddled all throughout his voice, hoarse and scratchy.
You arched your back into him, his palm coming down onto your left cheek as soon as you felt the skin of your backside touch the flexed, hard surface of his abdomen. “You like that, babygirl?” He probed, mirroring the same actions on your right cheek, much more rigidly than the first. “Yeah you do.” Thomas answered himself, his hand now resting onto one of your cheeks while the other trailed up your spinal cord, coaxing cascades of shivers to follow after it, his fingertips barely skimming over the hot skin as he did so.
You were so close, your heart skipping beats as it thumped heavily within your chest, leaving you short of breath and puffing out stiff breaths from your nose. “Oh God.” You heaved, your head suddenly being yanked backwards, some strands of hair being ripped from your head, a burning sensation buzzing on your scalp. The hand that had been traveling up your back had a fistful of your hair, allowing him to work rougher onto you and hold you still while he fucked you. You felt him suddenly shift; Thomas’s warm, repetitive pants of air hitting your ear and flowing down the side of your neck. “I don’t want you to ever forget the way I’m making you feel, right now. To never forget that you’re mine, no one else’s. If you do, I’m taking you right back here, and I’ll give you a reminder of who you belong to. Understand me?”
Too constrained by his rapid movements, he suddenly ceased all of them, simply gripping onto your hair and leaving his hand on your ass. “Do you,” He paused, going to land another blow atop your cheek, your skin stinging with all the tingling sensations from his hand as you felt the blood rush to the surface of the soft skin. “understand me?” His tone, authoritative and gruff, made you whimper out in response. “Say it.” Thomas demanded, his teeth leaving tiny nibbles across the open plane of your neck, already riddled in dark purple and red marks. You bit down on your lip, and he removed himself from you, only to slam right back in. You gasped. “I said, say it. I want to hear you say it.”
“I-I understand.” You breathed, and he bottomed out, immediately going back into his previous rhythm, till you felt yourself topple into your release, his following afterwards, hot shots of cum hitting along your backside and hips, both of you breathing heavily in unison.
A dark chuckle made you jump slightly as Thomas wiped off his mess from you with the bottom of his shirt, adjusting his grip back onto your hips as he kissed along the side of your neck, soothing over the biting love-bites and hickeys he adorned your tanned skin in. “Oh, babygirl, this is going to be fun.”
You were suddenly ripped from your thoughts as you felt your ankle bump into something hard, falling face-first into the patiently waiting hard surface of the grown below. “Shit.” You gasped, feeling the dirty water slosh onto your shirt some. A gag rested in the back of your throat, looking up as you noticed you have wondered off into the middle of the Glade, a yard away from your real destination. “I’m a fucking idiot.” You whispered your scold to yourself as you quickly jogged where you were supposed to be, ignoring the weird looks from the other nosey Gladers.
Letting out a small huff, you finished cleaning out the bucket of dried blood and dirt, running your freshly-dried hands through your messy hair. You had it tucked back into a ponytail, the humid air of the Med-Jack hut making your shirt feel like it was sticking to your skin. You plucked at the thin material, your chest rising and dropping quickly as you finally managed to peel it off you, revealing the noodle-strapped tanktop underneath, the straps of your black sports-bra much wider. You let out a sigh of relief, raising a hand to your forehead and tucking your shirt in your back-pocket and heading outside. The sun was merciless against your skin, making you feel grateful you had gotten yourself out of that torturous shirt. Everyone was busy with their own work, not paying you a wink of an eye, that is, until you passed them. Then, you could feel their eyes burning against your back, and you tensed, before spotting Thomas, still shirtless in all his glory, his muscles bulging as your eyes followed the vein that traveled from his forearm to the middle of his bicep.
Shaking your head, you sighed, finding yourself too occupied by the heat to pay any further attention to him. You didn’t look at him when you felt his attention become spiked to you, simply heading back to your own resting-quarters, quite a long-distance away from the rest of the Gladers. The reason? You’d rather not talk about it, nor think of it. The disgusting temptations some of these boys had was certainly ridiculous; you still slept with one eye open each night after it had happened, even if it had happened about a year ago, glad that Alby gave those assholes what they deserved.
Running your hands along the temples of your face, you let out another groan, your skin finally being able to breath as you stood in the shade. You still had to clean the showers, patch up some of the complaining Builders and talk to Newt about your tedious, ever-changing schedule. You see, you had been chosen to be a Runner after seven months in the Glade, which was very short. When you had asked Minho about it, he simply said that some creep had watched you on one of your morning runs and was impressed. Part of you thought it was to keep you away from the boys, but, you put trust in Minho’s word. Training was difficult, the real job was even worse. Your legs felt like rubber, pulsing and hot, but having no relief to the cool air of sundown, since you were so sore, you couldn’t even change clothes without wincing in pain. But you had gotten used to it, and the job shapened your body quite nicely. Assuredly you wouldn’t think your body was anything to drool over, but, after such hefty exercise from running daily, you grew a fresh layer of confidence of being free to show some skin since you were comfortable enough to.
Then, something terrible happened, and you never set foot in that blasted Maze ever again. George, your first friend in this Glade, dead. No, not because of the Grievers, or an accident in the Maze. But you.
It was because of you.
Shaking the thought off, you didn’t feel like dwelling within your gutter of self-blame, instead rolling up your jeans higher on your ankles and adjusting the straps of your sports-bra. You stood like this, relaxing and preparing yourself for the rest of the day. You turned around, and you saw him again, swinging down at the poor slices of wood as if it just insulted him. Your teeth found itself tugging on the bottom skin of your lip, gnawing and chewing, as Thomas suddenly met your eyes from his work, and you could see the surfacing smirk rising upon his lips. Everything was tensed on his sweaty body, his hair matted across his forehead, but still swept in a way that make the ends curl just a bit. His raven hair was sticking in awkward directions, wild and flat at the same time. Beads of sweat dripped between crevasses of his muscles, showing off his incredible form. He kept eye-contact with you, making a firm expression that said more than he was concentrated on cutting wood. Something in you told you that his mind was elsewhere, as so was yours, and that he wanted to rake his eyes down somewhere else on your body. You turned around, an idea popping up in your mind.
You bent over, pretending to have gotten something caught in your hammock, your tanktop rolling up on your back some as you rose one leg slightly off the ground, arching your back while you continued to search for the invisible item you had dropped. The pool of heat between your legs pulsing as you thought about the way he must be looking at you, about what he must be thinking about doing to you as you did so. He wanted to play games? He wanted to test you? Oh, he had no idea of what was coming to him. You hummed a chuckle, straightening as you brushed your hands on your tanktop, shrugging as you walked back into the Med-Jack hut, a sharp swing of your hips as you did so, allowing your hips to cut through the air to give him a nice view. You heard a faint growl, and your heart jumped at the sound.
You had grabbed a bucket of clean water, the same rag you had folded previously, and an extra hair-tie to wrap around your wrist, just in case your pesky hairs decided to come loose from your ponytail. About to head towards the showers, two rough hands on your hips stopped you, and you flailed until a familiar voice spoke. “What the fuck was that?” He questioned, digging his fingers into the parts of open skin where your shirt had rode up. You smiled.
Thomas leant over you, forcing you to bend over as he grabbed onto your ponytail, his other hand snaking to gently move over your neck, your breath quivering as he did so. He held a light grip, but the rough sensation of it left you buzzing. “You know what I’m talking about. What was that, hmm? Babygirl likes to play now, does she?” The petname he had grown so accustomed to using made you lick over your lips, a wet sound being made from the quick gesture, causing him to raise you to press you against his bare-front side, the back of your shirt dampening from his sweat. Any other day, this would’ve made you cringe, but, with the way he was handling you, it only made it hotter. “You know I don’t like being teased, sweetheart. You know what happens when you tease me.” A hand suddenly soothed over your bum, and you whimpered lightly, being fully knowledgeable. “Turn around and get on your knees.” Thomas growled, biting on that special spot behind your ear.
“I have to do work.” You spoke again, speaking against every roaring temptation inside you. His light grip on your neck tightened slightly, and you gripped onto the metal handle of the bucket.
“Yeah? I don’t care.” He retorted, turning you around and glaring down at you through his eyelashes, something dark and desiring residing in his honey-golden irises. “You think you can just get away with teasing me like that? Bending over like that, when you know I can bend you over that counter over there right now and fuck you till you can’t walk straight?” Rushes of electricity zapped to all corners of your body, but, you only smirked right at him and pulled from his strong hold, patting him gently on the head. You didn’t even take knowledge of the sight of him shirtless up-close, which took the most effort not to do.
You only chuckled, though with the look he was giving you, made you drop the small laugh real quick. “Sorry Tommy. Next time, okay?” He wanted to play this game, he better come up with better moves than that. Because you had a lot up your sleeve. But something about that lustful look in his eyes said that he had just the same. You walked out of that hut with the same alluring stride as before, knowing where his eyes were. Oh, he was so in for it.
You couldn’t wait to show him just how teasing you could be.
Easter season gets me so fucking heated about neglectful rabbit owners, we already have people calling every day at work asking for rabbits and i just want a pre recorded message that I can play that says “rabbits live for 10 years, need expensive vet care, have a special diet requiring fresh veggies daily, cannot live in a cage, must be spayed or neutered to prevent cancer, and cannot be released when you get tired of them. Happy Easter!”
If you absolutely have to have a rabbit “for Easter” adopt one from a shelter where people constantly dump their rabbits when they’re no longer the size of your hand and become boring and messy.
I’ve had Apollo for 4 years this month and he is my best friend and he is very messy and his vet bills are very expensive and he is smelly and can be destructive and has eaten many of my belongings and you just have to accept those things when you have a rabbit because that’s inherently how rabbits are. I can’t stand the thought of someone buying a baby rabbit too young to be away from its mother, sticking it in a tiny cage, feeding it seed mixes and whole carrots, and then not interacting with it after a month… It makes me feel sick.