There aren’t many people who love Mondays, and that is why we decided to share a list of couple of things we try to do every Sunday to prepare for new week and enter it in our best shape. Hope you find something here useful ^^ 


 1. Write down everything you need to do and everything you need to remember about this week. 

Planning is the obvious key to being organised, so we don’t need to explain why you need to do it. What you, however, need to remember about is to write down everything- literally everything, from birthdays and tests, to watering plants and taking out the trash. That way, it’ll be easier for you to create specific to-do-lists for each day of the week and not forget about the, seemingly, little, but not less important, things.

 2. Check the weather forecast and check if you have appropriate clothes in your wardrobe 

Although this might sound a little uptight for some, we prefer to believe it’s actually easier to do your laundry on Sunday when you have some free time (and even deal with ironing and folding) and have clothes ready, than to run around like a drunk gremlin on a Wednesday morning, looking for clean clothes, because it’s suprisingly cold and you don’t have any clean sweaters. 

 3. Pack your bag just before going to bed 

Chances are, at that point, you won’t take anything out of it, and you will have your bag ready in the morning, therefore avoiding the drunk gremlin situation mentioned before 

 4. Clean your room

 If you are only to clean your room once a week, do it on Sunday. Open windows, clean your desk, vacuum and throw out the trash. That way you’ll begin new week in a fresh and clean environment and there is nothing that’ll make you feel more productive.

 5. Try to finish your work

 Obviously. But remember that all-nighters should always be a last resort and that not so many things actually deserve them.

 6. Call your friends and family

 No matter how busy are, you should have sometime in your week designated only for contacting your friends and family, updating them on you life and hearing about theirs. It’s better to talk with someone once a week, than not talk to them at all (obviously), even if at that point you may only be able to have a 30 minutes conversation over the phone. And Sundays are great for that, mostly because most people are more able (and willing) to talk on weekends than in the middle of a busy week.

 7. Do something for yourself (don’t overdo it though) 

Pamper yourself a little. Watch an episode of your favourite show, or have a very nice dinner. You worked hard this weekend and you deserve it. But be real with what you can, and what you can’t do- if you’re really busy, going to a cinema and a dinner later may not be the greatest of ideas, and maybe this week, getting a coffee in a nice cafe will have to do. 

 8. Workout

 Workouts are important and super great and you should do them not only on a Sunday. But what makes Sunday workouts really great, is that usually you have time for a longer and nicer one and they give you a motivation boosts which last till Monday 

 9. Plan your meals for the week 

You don’t need to get them ready right away, but you should have a general idea what you’ll be eating this week. So you can plan you shopping and cooking and cleaning (and yes, we know, we get boring with this constant planning thing, but it really is crucial) 

 10. Avoid all screens 

30 minutes before bedtime It’s a general rule and you should do it every day, not only on Sunday. It’ll be easier for you to fall asleep if you give your brain (and eyes) some time to relax 

 11. Go to bed slightly earlier and wake up slightly earlier

 Try to go to bed 30 minutes earlier and to wake up 30 minutes earlier. It (for reasons unknown to us ^^) makes wonders for your productivity and motivation

 12. Take a nice, long bath 

You should never underestimate good baths abilities to wash away the whole week, and there is nothing nicer than going to bed on a Sunday with super smooth and moisturised skin, and waking up on Monday already clean and smelling nice ^^

 13. Do something that’ll help you improve yourself 

 Do one lesson on Duolingo. Write another page of your book. Stretch. Improve everyday, specially on Sunday

 14. If you have time, prepare yourself food for Monday 

 Mondays aren’t great, but having food makes them slightly better

 15. Try to relax

 There is a reason why we created weekend.You can’t (and shouldn’t try to) cram the whole weekend- try to relax and enter new week with rested mind

“It won’t hold!” Even says, mild frustration in his voice as he tries to get the yellow flower to hold in Isak’s hair.

“Your ears are too weird.” Even put his tongue in the corner of his mouth, eyes focused on the flower and hands moving away very slowly when he finally got it to stay in place.

“Excuse me,” Isak huffs offended “I have the best ears! My ears are made for flowers.”

Even lowers his hands to his side, shifting his gaze from the flower to Isak’s green eyes and raises his brows.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” there is a fond and wide smile spreading over Isak’s face. He grabs for Even’s hand without needing to look down. Interlocking their fingers.

Even’s lips turn to the side with a smile as he tries to keep a straight face, nodding his agreement. Isak belly fills with warmth at the way Even looks at him. He moves half a step closer to Even (more was not possible, with every breath their chests now touched then and again) and tilts his head back to keep looking at Even.

Isak leans in for a quick but soft peck. How the hell do you make even monday mornings great? They keep smiling at each other for a minute, until Isak voices that question out loud.

Even laughs, turns his face away and back again the way he does, dipping a bit in the knees as he does. They are alone at the tram stop so Isak wraps his free arm around Even’s waist, nuzzling his recovered nose with his boyfriend’s. Even lets out a pleased hum.

“Hmm I missed that.”

Isak smiles even wider at that, cheeks almost hurting from it, bc me too. He nods, which bumps their noses together again. 

“Evi?” He asks, swinging their entwined hands gently back and forth. At the inquisitive sound Even lets out he continues: “I love you.”


Pairing: Wonwoo - You

Summary: Wonwoo is an art student that hates drama class until his homework gets a little bit exciting.

Originally posted by wonwoowho

As much as Wonwoo loved art he just couldn’t stand his drama class, most of it was because of his annoying teacher, her voice was always filled with pretentiousness, her comments were always filled with judgement, she could never say ‘good job’ or ‘I like what you did there’ instead she said stuff like ‘that was nice but you got this wrong’ there was always a but and he hated it; she was also always late since she was a teacher at another school. Everyone else was really into this class because she was a director and a very good one, or that’s what everyone said, he had never seen her work, he rarely went to the theatre, just a few times as a kid with his parents but never on his own.

“Today I’m excited” His teacher said, he almost rolled his eyes at her comment ‘Now what?’ He thought “My favorite actress is doing a different monologue for three weeks and I want you all to go” He stopped listening after that knowing that she would email them the details later, she always did, he wasn’t excited at all but at least that meant no real homework for three weeks.

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Ok folks!

This is a super hastily written and barely edited ending to this, with just a little ta-kill-ya thrown in for Cinco de Mayo. :)


Mulder stepped out into the post holiday chill and proceeded to hike it home, to hell with the cab, he just needed to get out of here. He adjusted the collar of his over coat  to cover his neck. No need though, really, the flush of embarrassment that had flooded his cheeks was plenty enough to keep him warm. Damnit! Stupid stupid stupid. What the hell were you thinking?! Great. Monday’s gonna be fu-

“Mr. Mulder? Wait!” The unfamiliar call stopped him just long enough for Charlie to catch up. Charlie stood just about Mulder’s height, with a well-trimmed goatee and shoulder length, thick strawberry blonde hair kept into a neat ponytail, and a set of very familiar crystal blue eyes. Professor, Mulder assumed. He’d been so busy answering Charlie’s enthusiastic questions earlier, he’d hadn’t gotten much time to learn about Scully’s youngest brother much.

“Listen, sorry I-“ Mulder began.

“No, no, it’s fine. Bill’s an ass. I just uh, wanted to apologize for my brother and assure you there’s no hard feelings. At least on my end.”

Mulder would’ve been touched by the man’s offer had he not been in such a hurry to make his exit.

“S’ok. Really. She’s his sister, I get it. I really do.” He extended a hand, hoping to bring the conversation to a close. “It was nice to meet you, maybe we can do it again some other time.” Charlie brought a hand out from his leather bomber and gave Mulder one firm shake. “Sounds like a plan. I’m going to get Bill home, you take care.”

Mulder nodded quickly and turned, attempting to resume his get away.


Damnit. Shit. Fuck.

“Mulder wait!” He froze, unable to blow her off so publicly or pretend to not hear her. She strolled past Charlie on his way back into the bar, stopping only to squeeze his arm and kiss his cheek. She nodded something unintelligible, and Charlie made his departure with a quick hug.

Scully trotted up next to him pulling her wool london fog tighter around her frame, tiny puffs of steam marking each warm breath as her gate became more and more purposeful.

Here it comes.

But it didn’t. Once she got to him, it was clear she hadn’t really thought much about what to say. Her eyes pleaded wth him for answers, tiny lines of confusion marking her inner brow. Her irises flitted back and forth, searching his own for answers.

“Mulder what are you doing? It’s freezing out here and its at least 3 miles to your place,” ah the old stand by. Substitute practicality for emotion.  Good ol Scully, maybe shed let him off the hook after all, “Come on, she shivered, “let’s get a cab.”

Let’s. Let us. *Us*

His heart thudded wildly in his chest, and somehow, somewhere he found his voice.


“No?” She looked at him incredulously, clearly shocked and more than a little annoyed.

“No, Scully. I—I think I’d like to keep walking.” Why was he saying this?  Stop this, you idiot. He told himself. She’s right and you know it.

And then the look. The chin scrunched and her eyes spat at him, “Suit yourself.”

As she turned, the wiser part of his brain won over and he called to her “Wait! Wait. Shit. I’m sorry. Look, there’s another place, Mickey’s..uh…it’s just down here. Why don’t we duck in there for a bit.” He spoke to the cracks in the sidewalk, unable to meet her gaze.

“Okay Mulder.” Her tone was weary.

He nodded his head in the direction of the next stop.

Mickey’s was quieter, darker, rougher. No crystal or uniform, just a middle aged man with a middle aged paunch and a middle aged hairline. Seated at the bar Mulder nodded to the bartender and held up a finger.

“What’ll it be?”

“Tequila. Two please.”

“Mulder are you ok?” Nope. Not off the hook.

“Yea, yea just…” he downed his shot and swiped at the remnants of lime stinging his bottom lip, chapped already from the cold, “shit. I’m sorry, Scully. For everything. I knew better than to–

"Don’t, Mulder. Don’t you dare.” Her words carried a vague threat, but her voice trembled, just slightly enough for only him to notice, “shit,” she mimicked, “give me that.” She downed hers, forgoing any salt or lime without even so much as a grimace. She sucked in a breath, and then seemed to gaze into, or past the floor. A slow grin crept its way across her face and Mulder wasn’t sure whether to be elated or terrified, because she looked slightly hysterical. And then she giggled. Giggled. Hiccupy. Girlish even. 

His heart resumed its thudding.

A small smile remained on the downslope of her delirium and she shook her head ruefully. “I’ve never considered myself a vain person Mulder,” she began, choosing her words, “Missy..” he held his breath at the mention of her late sisters name and he kicked himself for being grateful when she couldn’t elaborate. “I always placed my value in my intelligence, my hard work. My achievements were, and still are, my measuring stick, of sorts.” Mulder briefly considered a height comment and then thought better of it.

“When I was first diagnosed…” again the grin appeared..“you know what my first thought was?" 

He found himself unable to speak, but he shook his head, urging her to continue.

"I thought…my hair. I’m going to lose my hair.” She shook her head and eyed her empty shot glass. Her voice sounded so far away. “So silly, really.”

“Scully–” again she cut him off.

“What you said tonight..” her fingers stroked the rim of the glass slowly, thoughtfully…and before he knew it she was gripping his tie and giving him an impossibly soft, slightly open-mouthed kiss, her tounge barely grazing his upper lip. God. So soft. So sweet, even with the bitter tang of tequila and red wine left on her tongue. His head began to swim and he could just barely feel the raspy moan leaving his throat. By the time could register what had happened enough to respond she’d started to pull away, but he caught her waist, fisting her coat possessively to pull her back in and cup her jaw gently, opening his mouth to hers to kiss her fully as well, just once. When they parted their foreheads met, a kind of kiss all its own. She chuffed.

“Thank you Mulder. I…I needed to hear that tonight, more than you know.”

Her name came out on the end of the breath he hadn’t known he was holding, "Scully-“ 

Her hand to his chest brought his eyes to hers. For the second time tonight they shimmered with fresh tears, and he felt his own eyes start to sting and throat begin to tighten.

"Please take a cab home, Mulder. It’s cold out. I’ll see you on Monday.”

With a palm to his cheek and an impossibly tender look on her face, she slid from the stool and out of the bar. It occurred to him finally that she’d never even taken off her coat. All Mulder could do was stare after her, dumbstruck. When he turned back toward the bar, it’s patron huffed, "What the hell are you grinning at?”


A Terrible Past

(gif belongs to of-badges-and-guns)

Title: A Terrible Past

Pairing: Gibbs x Reader

Word Count: 959

Warnings: implied abuse from childhood, angst

A/N: I hope you are all having a great monday. Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! <3 <3 I love you all so much!

This was requested by anon: Gibbs learning about your abusive past? Possibly while you’re both captured by the very people who abused you when you were younger? #Angst

You and Gibbs were chasing a lead.  It wasn’t much of one, but a lead was a lead.  When you and Gibbs kicked down the door, you were surrounded by masked men.  They had their guns pointed at you and the Marine.  When you looked at Gibbs for further direction, he held his hands up in surrender.

“Nice to see you again [Y/N],” one of the men spoke.  You knew that voice.  It brought back terrible memories from your past.  It was one of your step-dad’s friends.  Your step-dad abused you as a child.  This man knew about all of it, yet he never did anything to help you.  He was the one who set your mom and your step-dad up.  “We’ll have to let the bossman know that you’re here.  He’ll want to see you.”

They escorted you and Gibbs to a small room.  They locked both of you inside, keeping one of the gunmen outside of the room as security.  There was no way out of this small room.  Your leaned your back against the wall as you sat down on the floor.  You couldn’t help but feel hopeless as you started to cry.

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