there are probably already a few

The Nyma Incident

Alright y’all, here it is. The next installment of the klance YouTuber AU. Honestly,,, it might be a little unrealistic, but I wrote it anyway and @elsiemcclay convinced me to post it,,, so. There’s that. This is technically for Day 8 of whump week, but it’s late. Sorry. But it’s longer than other one-shots in this AU!

It’s finally time to find out what happened with Nyma.

Or that time a fan of Lance’s finds out his address.


When Lance opened the door, he expected to find Keith. The idiot forgot to take his key while running errands on a regular basis, and he was already prepared with a lecture as he opened it. Not to mention that the loud knocking was typical Keith behavior.

Instead, he was surprised to find a girl not much shorter than him, with thick, curly blonde hair and a bright smile. “Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I just moved in down the hall, and I wanted to get to know some of the neighbors! I brought muffins!” she said cheerily, sticking out a hand as she shifted the tray to the other. “I’m Nyma!”

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21.

While Scully sleeps Mulder watches the shadows move. He thinks about the telescope he had as a kid. He hardly needs one now. The sky is so dark, the stars are so close.

His arm still aches from the graves he dug back in Scully’s town. She hasn’t said anything about it since they left, but she must have known them all.

After her abduction, after she came back, he’d felt like every day she’d been gone was a bridge he needed to cross. It was just a few months, but he felt those lost moments acutely. And this time they lost a year and a half.

He’ll never get those moments back, not any of them. And he knows — he does — that some part of Scully is always, has always been fundamentally unknowable, but now he can’t even pretend. Her white-knuckle grip on her Smith & Wesson, the steel in her eyes.

Mulder lies down and reaches for her, pulling her close. In sleep he knows her as well as he ever has. Her body curves against him, her fingers twine with his.

Eventually the humid air and the deep silence of the forest lure him into sleep, but what feels like just seconds later, he’s startled awake. Scully sits up shaking, bracing herself on her hands. Her eyes open, staring out into the night. He grabs her wrist. “Scully?”

“Will.” Scully breathes deep and closes her eyes again, like she’s trying to go back to wherever she was a few minutes ago. “He’s alive. He was reaching out.”

Yeah, he’s had that dream too. He tries to say it gently. “Are you sure it wasn’t a dream?”

The glare she turns on him is deadlier than any gun. “I know the difference.”

From inside Scully’s bag, something buzzes. They look at each other. What it sounds like is something impossible, a sound they both would’ve sworn they’d forgotten. It sounds like a cell phone, vibrating in the bag.

Mulder is the one who gets up to open it. It doesn’t take long to find the source; they don’t carry much. “It’s the radio,” he says, holding it up for her to see. “Just static.”

But Scully doesn’t seem relieved. She scoots back, away from him. “What’s powering it, Mulder?”

He swallows. “Oh.”

The radio buzzes and hums. It’s Scully’s hand-crank radio from back at the settlement; the dial is still set to the station Mulder was broadcasting on.

And somehow, his own voice comes out through the speaker. “This is Radio Nowhere—”

Mulder sets the radio down on the ground and steps away, like it might suddenly catch fire or spontaneously combust. His own voice keeps pouring out, things he remembers saying, days or weeks ago. When he turns to look at Scully her face is white.

And the voice on the radio changes. “Fox Mulder,” it says.

He shudders, then concentrates, trying to place the voice: the slight slurring, the way the voice hangs on the long consonants.

It says, “It’s not too late, Fox.”

Scully is quicker than he is. “Is that—”

He shakes his head, hard. It can’t be, he won’t allow it to be.

The radio says, “Do you think you can find him before we do?”

“Jesus,” Mulder exhales. There are enough horrors in the new world without the dead rising up to taunt him. “I’m hallucinating, right? This is a hallucination.“ It wouldn’t be the first time.

Scully’s lips are a thin line, grim. She doesn’t say a word.

It says, “Remember how long it took you to find your sister, Fox. Remember what was left when you did.”

Hours pass.

They don’t crank the radio, but it runs on its own power now. They can’t turn it off, and he can’t bring himself to change the dial. The station goes quiet for hours at a time; when it broadcasts, it’s exactly the same as before. A recording, then. That doesn’t comfort him.

“What if we’re going the wrong way?” Scully asks. They’ve stopped to rest somewhere on the side of the mountain, in the shade of a particularly toxic-looking tree. They’ve barely spoken since the radio turned on hours ago. Their fear simmers in the heat.

He can’t stop thinking about Samantha. How she was taken from him so easily; how now, more than forty years later, the same men are trying to steal his son. It feels impossible. That part of his life was supposed to be over.

He is not supposed to still be so powerless.

“You’re the one with a direct line,” Mulder snaps. “Why don’t you ask him?”

Scully grits her teeth and ignores him, which is almost too bad. He feels like fighting — it has to be better than wandering through the woods with no plan.

Mulder cranes his neck back to stare up into the canopy. It’s silent, eerie, not a bird or breeze in sight. As he watches, a plume of smoke creeps up through the trees. The sight is so unfamiliar that it takes him a second to realize what it must mean.

“Scully,” he says.

Her eyes follow his. They watch the smoke dissipate. “Come on,” she says.

Walking as softly as they’re able, they make their way through the green to the source of the smoke. Next to him, Scully’s voice is barely a whisper. “There are men up here,” she says. “Up in these woods. We’d see their fires at night. People said they were killers, cannibals and worse.”

“People say a lot of things,” Mulder says. “Maybe it’s Will.” Probably not, but what other leads do they have?

After a few minutes they hear voices. Mulder puts his hand on his gun.

A baby cries.

He turns to Scully, but she’s already walking ahead of him, her footsteps getting quicker, less cautious. Mulder follows a few steps behind.

“I know them,” she says out loud, more to herself than to him.

There are a handful of people standing in a circle. Arguing, from what it sounds like. There are a couple of women Will’s age; one of them holds a baby. Mulder can’t see the source of the smoke.

One of the men facing away from them looks familiar: about Mulder’s height, young. For a split second he thinks it’s Will, but no: his hair is too light, his shoulders too broad.

The man turns around.

Through the trees they lock eyes. Mulder hears Scully’s footsteps stop, somewhere off to the side, but he doesn’t look away.

A dozen distinct emotions pass over Matt’s face before he finally settles on some toxic combination of sorrow and shame. It’s an easy expression for Mulder to read — he wore it for twenty-five years.

Matt shakes his head, just slightly.

And Mulder knows that Will is gone.

Steve Rogers dating a barista...

Originally posted by imaginesofeveryfandom

  • He probably meets you because of Tony
  • Because, you know, Tony likes to throw parties and of course, there’s gotta be a lot of drinks
  • When Steve sees that all of his friends are drunk, and he wants to take a break, he sits on the bar, right in front of you
  • As he can’t actually get drunk, he starts to talk to you as you serve him a few beers
  • Turns out that you’re really nice, and the conversation flows so naturally
  • Steve doesn’t even notice you have to leave because it’s already 4AM
  • But of course, he gets your number
  • And he doesn’t think he should call you
  • I mean, you’re just so nice and have a normal life, he didn’t want to ruin that for you by walking into your life and messing everything up
  • It takes Sam a lot of time talking on Steve’s ear for him to finally call you
  • But then you’re working, and you can’t go out with him
  • But why couldn’t he go to see you on your work?
  • And that’s what Steve does
  • He starts to go out almost every night, spending his time sitted in front of you, talking about random stuff while you’re doing a lot of drinks and crazy things with cups
  • Then, when you’re done, he walks you to your home, kissing your cheek while saying goodbye
  • And this turns into a regular thing
  • Until you decide to take the first step and kiss him on his lips
  • From there, the rest is story
  • Steve accepts your lifestyle, just as you accepts his
  • When he’s away on a mission, he makes sure to let you know he’s fine and vice versa
  • He worries so much about you, even though he knows you’re safe
  • When he’s not on a mission but you gotta work, he’s more than glad to wake up with you by his side
  • Is a good reason to stay a little longer on bed
  • When none of you has to work, Steve just likes to have a normal day with you
  • Sometimes he asks you to teach him how to do a drink or two, but just because he wants to “be nice”
  • The Avengers loves you, of course (especially Tony)
  • At first you think it’s purely because you’re a barista and now you’re dating one of his best friends - which means free drinks
  • But then he tells you that he’s truly happy that Cap found someone who’s not his age
  • Steve does this little game with you where you do a lot of drinks, and you two drink together
  • Of course, the fun is always the fact that you still try to keep up with how much he can drink without getting at least dizzy
  • It always ends up with you drunk
  • Also, he’s the one who proves all of your drinks before you start doing them at work
  • Because 1) he can’t get drunk
  • And 2) he’s always honest about if the drinks are tasting good or not
  • Afterall, Steve supports you
Zootopia Fanfiction Take A Stand:Star of Ceartais Ch.19- Salut D’Amour

(AN/ Here we go, it’s time to learn Luna’s secret…)

Here’s a ff.net link… https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12439999/20/Take-A-Stand-Star-Of-Ceartais

Chapter 19- Salut d'amour

On the drive over to the bunker Robyn explained that she was in fact the super heroine ‘The Undying Scarlet’ to the astonished Aleks. She gave him a brief explanation of how she got her powers and what her actual abilities were and despite hearing some unbelievable Aleks had no doubt that he was hearing the truth, he had already seen the vixen he loved ferociously take out The Drowned tonight, she even went as far to kill one of them so hearing that Robyn was a super hero wasn’t too far fetched. Aleks voiced his wanting to know who the rest of the team were but Luna pointed out that it was not their secret to tell. Luna of course pulled into a KFC drive through and ordered a ten piece bucket and three milkshakes before driving onwards to the Bunker.

Aleks looked on in amazement as they entered down the hidden ramp and spiralling driveway down into the heart of the bunker. The two foxes and one hybrid got out of the Bugatti with Alek’s eyes soaking in every detail of the high tech underground base. Luna spied up to the observation deck and could see no one attending the monitors “Hood and Maid aren’t here?” Luna wondered out loud, holding onto the bucket of chicken.

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plumaeria replied to your post “Speaking of Symmetra–please don’t throw autistic and nd folks under…”

wouldn’t it make more sense for symmetra’s character to feel sorry for the citizens there and wonder how vishkar could come in and help?

It probably would! Given her current development, she’d probably wonder how Vishkar could improve their lives. 

I’ve just seen a few posts already where it’s like “Symmetra would have to make everything orderly” or “Symmetra would die if she set foot in Junkertown” and there’s just… this layer of skeeviness under those statements, like autistic people can’t function whenever one little thing is out of place.

Satya’s a professional. Treat her like one, you know?

Wedding (Guard!Jin)

Plot: Fresh out the shower smell with guard!Jin            

Word Count: 733

A/N: so I have a bit of a busy week, I had a s u p er fucking busy weekend so it’ll probably be another drabble week, at least for the next few days but I am gonna start working on both pirate!Tae and another drabble list so I’ll keep you guys updated on that, the link for this is guard!Jin (here for part one, here for part two)

There were pros and cons to being the next in line for the throne. One of the biggest cons was the fact that you didn’t have much of say in who you married. You were already arranged to marry someone else, someone that you didn’t love, not in the same way you loved Jin. Being your body guard, being around you constantly, making you feel safe, always there to catch you when you fell, he was bound to develop a few feelings towards you. He had hoped it’d be platonic, that maybe he would think of you as a sibling but the day he kissed you was the same day that idea was out of the window.

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Here you go anon, hope you like it! I wrote it as if the reader and the boys new each other already.

You had gone to spend some alone time at Rampart Range. You had gotten into a bad fight with your parents earlier and you’d decided to leave your house for a little while.

You were drinking a bottle of liquor and crying your eyes out. You were tired of your parents expecting you to be like your older sister but that just wasn’t you.

You had been here for hours and hours just thinking. It was getting a little late so you decided it was time for you to head back home. You knew your parents were probably looking for you already.

You grabbed your bag and stood up walking up the hill towards your car. As you walked further you heard voices and hollering and what you thought were gunshots.

You shrugged it off and kept walking. You saw a few guys standing up the hill and you passed by quickly figuring that they would see you but you were wrong.

You passed by and you suddenly felt a sharp pain on your left leg. You fell the ground immediately and started screaming in agony as you tried to look at your leg.

You saw a tall lanky boy running down the hill towards you. Your vision was blurry and you couldn’t really makeout he’s features.

“Y/N!” He said as he kneeled down next to you and tried to see where you got hurt.

You could barely even talk all the pain you were feeling was blocking you out of everything.

“What the hell were you doing out here?”

You just shook your head at him and started crying hysterically.

“Reb what are you doing up there come down and help me!”

Eric was in shock he hadn’t moved an inch since this whole situation went down. He finally snapped out of he’s panic state and starting running towards the both of you.

He stood behind Dylan looking over he’s shoulder, not really knowing what to do at this point.

“Dude she’s bleeding alot!”

Eric stood up and put he’s hands on he’s head in frustration. He really did feel bad for what he had just done to you.

“Help me please.” You said weakly as your eyes began to close.

“We have to get her to a hospital!”

Eric was in denial he couldn’t believe what he had just done to the girl he has loved he’s whole life.

Note: I’m writing a part 2 to this so let me know how soon ya’ll want me to post it. Stay tuned lovelies!

Homme Fatal - Part Two

Originally posted by dimplesjae

Characters: Yuta (With appearances from the rest of NCT minus the younger members)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, murder, strong language, etc. 

Word Count: 5.4k

Note: I know what some of y’all are probably thinking. “Trix, it’s about dang time!” After almost one month after the first part was posted, here’s part two of Homme Fatal. (Read that first if you haven’t already.)

Homme Fatal - A fatal man

Over the next few hours she started realizing where she was, and over the next few days, she finally remembered everything that had happened. What she dreamed wasn’t a dream, but a memory that came as a dream. Yuta did do that, but he pulled his arm away from her head before he shot her in the head—hitting her lower back in the process. Seeing as no one there knew first aid, he left her at a hospital so she could be treated for the gunshot wound he had accidentally given her. From there, after realizing how mentally unstable she was, she was put in an institution so she could be closely monitored at all times. 

“He… He ruined my life. I’m stuck here because of him… I’ll never be able to go back to normal…” In a session with her therapist, she became shockingly aware of her situation. She realized that, by him holding her hostage for all those months and making her witness all of those terrible crimes, he had forced her into a never-ending state of mania. Each night she had nightmares of him, nightmares of the things she witnessed, nightmares of each of the men that were part of her kidnapping.

“He ruined my life but… He cared about me? He would’ve killed me if he didn’t care about me, right?” She had a hard time explaining her feelings towards Yuta. She knew she hated him, she knew that he was evil incarnate. Despite that, though, she could still remember the fondness that he showed her. How he proclaimed his love to her, how he sometimes showed his care for her despite their situation. Her therapist brought up the aftermath of Stockholm Syndrome, and the fact that her mental state wasn’t in a normal state in the least to try and ease her thoughts. None of which made her feel better.

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anonymous asked:

Who will be taller, Mamoru or Milo? Kubo once said that Yuri P could still grow to 1.80m, but Otabek is, compared to Yuuri and Victor. And Milo can still grow, men grow up to 20 normally

i think milo is gonna grow taller during next years, he already grew up very much in the last few years so probably he’s gonna get as tall as mamoru or maybe even a bit more? but he has also otabek’s genes so who knows ahah

Alrighty everyone, I have packed my bags and I’m about to go to bed ‘cause the day that I move to Korea has finally arrived and that’s tomorrow🙂🙃

The first week I will be in Seoul before eventually moving to Busan, so I will be running this blog on queue (I always do that anyways so idk why I’m saying this) or whenever I’ll be online and find some free time. 

If anyone’s interested to learn more about my life there I will be most probably updating snapchat so feel free to add me there @ lenathewinemom (my username was @kimjaehwanswife ‘s idea and I’m thankful❤️) 

Also: I have decided to pick a second winner for this giveaway which by the way ends in a few days so check it out if you haven’t already.

3

Ok. So, I just wanna talk about this for a second. For anyone who doesnt know, this is from the teaser for season 4. It should be on this hellsite somewhere if you wanna watch it, or you can find it on youtube.

Now, if you haven’t seen season 3 yet, you should probably stop reading this, cause I’m gonna mention a few spoilers. There probably not going to be terribly large spoilers, but spoilers all the same. If you’ve seen season 3 or you dont care about spoilers, then read on.

Okay, so… I was watching the teaser and I didn’t think much of this scene at first. But upon seeing it again something seemed odd. In this scene (in case you haven’t seen it or don’t remember it) Lotor is chasing after something and desperately trying to hit it with his sword. This is significant because, so far when Lotor has fought anyone, he’s calm and cool. Hell, so far Lotor seems to be someone who never seems to loose his calm exterior and always seems to be in control. He does crack sometimes, but not like this. In this scene he’s clearly upset. In fact, I’d go as far as to say he’s in a panic. I mean, look at the look on his face in the last shot. Whatever it is he’s desperate to wound/kill it and he needs to do it before it can get away.
Okay. So Lotor is trying to hit something and he’s freaking out. “What’s your point Star?” You might find yourself asking.
Well, take a look at the shots again. Look at who’s in them. Acxa, Zethrid, and Ezor are in the shot with Lotor, but not Narti. In case you aren’t sure who Narti is, she’s the blind mute one. The one with the cat.
Alright so, if you’ve seen episode 7 of season 3, you know that there’s a strong chance that that cat is in fact Haggar’s. When he got sick she treated him with quintessence, apparently making him immortal or something similar.
“But Star,” you ask, “what does this have to do with anything?”
I’m glad you asked!
If you’ve seen season 3, then you remember the episode where Haggar sent someone too spy on Lotor because she doesnt trust him. He’s obviously caught because Lotor’s not an idiot. He confronts Haggar about it, throwing the cybornetic arm of her spy at her. Now I don’t know about you, but to me the whole thing felt odd. Haggar is normally at least a little bit sneakier then that. The whole thing sort of plays off as a simple filler scene simply put there too show that Lotor is playing by his own rules and Haggar isn’t having it and doesn’t trust him. But I think Haggar is a little smarter then that. She’s been the brains behind Zarkon for ten thousand years after all.
If you can’t tell where I’m going with this, let me explain. I’d say the cat (or possibly Narti herself) is there to spy for Haggar. I’d say he realizes this in that moment, perhaps after something large about his plans has been exposed, and in a fit of panic and anger tries to kill it (or Narti). Even the way it’s framed. The camera is placed between Acxa and Zethrid, like the person or whatever Lotor is attcking is standing in formation with the three other girls. That would make the scene from Narti’s point of view. Specifically, this is what she would be seeing (except it would have to be the cat seeing it because she doesn’t have eyes but that’s not the point). Both Zethrid and Ezor seem to be in a state of shock. Acxa just seems to be stepping out of his way.
So I guess what I’m saying is that, next season, if anyone turns put to be a traitor amongst Lotor’s group, it’s the cat/ Narti.
Thank you for your time.

8

Endless list of favorite musicals: Ghost Quartet (2014)

I like to lose my mind
Get blurry sloppy boozy and blind
Like to put my hand on a pretty girl’s knee
And i got four dear friends to help me 

6

2016 ▶️ Jungkook x solo selcas 📱✌️

The Time of Our Lives (Steven Moffat’s final DWM Column)

You know something I don’t know. You know who the next Doctor is. At least, I think that will be out by the time you read this. Old Chibs (as he must always now be known) is playing his cards close to his chest, and won’t tell me a thing. I attempted to give him some sage advice on the subject of secrecy, but he gave me a look, as if to say, “Seriously, have you checked your own record on this??” and had me removed by security. Again. But it’s comfy here, in my skip in the Roath Lock car park, and Russell is good company. When we’re both not crying, that is.

Actually, I’m not comfy at all. I’ve got everything crossed. Can Old Chibs pull it off? Can we actually have a new Doctor that’s a proper surprise, the way it’s supposed to be? I do hope so! But you know all that by now, out there, in the glorious new dawn.

And the fact is, I have no more news for you. Barely any secrets to keep. One more Special on Christmas Day, and I’ll be gone before the end credits. A brand-new team will go blazing into action, and in the far future, vast new Andrew Pixley Archives will form in the void.

But frankly, even I don’t care about me - this is all about Peter Capaldi. I saw him at the end, you know. The very last shot you see of him as the Doctor is in fact (brilliant scheduling by amazing producer, Pete Bennett) the very last thing Peter did on the show. Just as popping out the TARDIS and confusing Strax was the very first thing he did in Deep Breath, all those centuries ago. Since then he’s faced down a Mummy on the Orient Express, talked down a Zygon war using a couple of empty boxes, punched a wall for four and a half billion years, misunderstood the romantic intent of a puddle, decked a racist, insulted Santa, had a 24-year date in a restaurant, and played gooseberry when Missy met herself. He’s been gentle and fierce and rude and kind, and now with a wave of his hand and a flap of his cuff, he’s striding into the sunset to give it a piece of his mind. Be there for him on Christmas Day - Scotland’s finest in his final hour. He’ll break your heart and save your galaxy, all over again.

It was funny, that last day. I was in the studio for most of it, which is the first time I’ve ever managed that on Doctor Who. Normally, there’s so much else to do - new season to plan, new scripts to write, new stars to find. But now, with my time on the show winding down, with desks falling empty, and computers falling silent, and endless rounds of goodbye drinks, there’s nowhere else for me to be.

Brian Minchin is here today. And we sit and laugh and chat, and marvel at Peter’s extraordinary final performance. Every take is different and beautiful in a new way, and how the hell are we supposed to choose just one? It’s not goodbye to Brian, I’m delighted to say - he’s joining me and Sue at Hartswood Films, and we have dark and mighty plans.
Rachel Talalay, our finale specialist, is directing. She’s come back to see number 12 off into the shades but I very much hope she’ll be directing more Doctor Whos in the future. She keeps hinting that she won’t, though.

“You’re already directing the new one - you’re doing the regeneration!”
“Yes, but apart from that.”
“You probably know who the new Doctor is, and everything!”
“No, I don’t”
“You had a secret dinner with Matt Strevens and Old Chibs!”
“It wasn’t secret!”
“Well, I didn’t know about it.”
“No-one thought to tell you, it was just for people who are… you know…”
“What?”
“Involved.”

I was alright after a bit, and the nurse with the oxygen was very nice.

“Who’s the new Doctor?” I demanded to know from my stretcher, mostly in hand signals.
“I don’t know,” lied Rachel, probably.
“Just the initials.”
“I don’t know.”
“Will you tell me if I cry?”
“You’re already crying.”
“… Would you like ten pounds?”

There’s another goodbye coming up - and frankly it’s right here. My old friend, the wise and kind King of Numbers himself, Tom Spilsbury, is leaving this magazine. It’s funny, we’ve done almost everything in parallel in Doctor Who. He was assistant editor on the mag, while I was an occasional writer for Russell’s era. He became editor only shortly before I became showrunner. And now, at the end, we’re tumbling out the door together. We’ve tumbled out of quite a few doors together, but I’m damned if I’m telling you which pubs. Once a month, for so many years, Tom would remind me that this column was due. No, that’s a lie. He’d remind me several times a month. Towards the end, in a very high voice, with crying. Well, no more! These days are over. Tom’s entirely brilliant era of DWM is drawing to a close with every word you read, my time on Doctor Who is vanishing like breath on a mirror, and this column too is about to pop out of existence.

It’s funny how things you take for granted just disappear, isn’t it? That school you went to every day and then never go back to, that friend you part from laughing and never see again, all those doors that click behind you without you knowing they’re closing forever. I first wrote Doctor Who in 2004, and I very much hoped I’d get to write it again. Then I wrote more, and then so much more, until I thought it might go on forever. I remember at some awards dinner, telling Brian I loved my job so much I couldn’t imagine ever stopping. In other more melancholy moments I knew that everything ends and wondered what the very last words I’d ever write about Doctor Who would be. Well, the time has come, and here they are.

All my love, good luck and goodbye.

Stuff to do on a sunday

…or weekend for that matter. 

I thought I’d compile a little list of things that I aim to do on the weekends in order to not fall too deeply into the pit of lazyness and slackdom. Feel free to add your own advice and sunday/weekend rituals. {see other advice posts}. 

Let’s get into it:


Tidy your space. Resetting your room or apartment will make a big difference in your stress levels. Having clutter laying around here and there will ultimately reflect on your mental state, so take a few minutes (it can most likely be done in 20 minutes) and take charge.

Vacuum or mop the floors. Now that the place is tidied up, take 5 more minutes to finish off and tackle dust and crumbles on the floor. 

Change your bed sheets. A freshly mase bed smells and feels nice and it might even improve the quality of your sleep.

Open your windows. Let some fresh air fill your room.

Do your laundry. Mondays can be tough, so make sure you have your favorite outfit ready to wear.

Clean the dishes. Again, saving monday morning.


Exercise. Mens sana in corpore sano. Moving your body is vital to your overall well-being, so find an activity that you enjoy.

Be social. You might want to invite a friend and exercise together, go for a long walk or have a sit in with tea and cake.

Pamper yourself. Take a bath, shave, if you want, apply a face mask, use lotion, clip and file your nails, apply polish if that’s your thing. Use peeling on your skin, and conditioner for your hair.



Bake. If you find this relaxing, try a new recipe. Not only will baking make your place smell amazing, you can also spread some cookie-love. I don’t know anybody who doesn’t like receiving baked goods unexpectedly.

Listen to music. Put on the new record that you didn’t find time for to listen in the week or blast your favorite classic album.

Create. Paint, draw, grab your camera or guitar, make a vlog, write a poem, blog. Whatever you prefer.

Read a book. Have you already re-read the Harry Potter books this year? You probably should.

Go outside. Walk around, explore your neighborhood. Find a cute café, watch people walk by and sip on some tea or coffee. Go to a museum or gallery and learn something new.


Tackle unfinished task. Sit down with your planner and look for unchecked tasks in your weekly overview. Do them if absolutely necessary. However, super important tasks are probably crossed of already anyway.

Plan the upcoming week. Make a list of tasks that need to get done in the upcoming week. Try to prioritize. If you’re bullet journaling, this can be a wonderful creative outlet to decorate a few pages.

Prep food for the next day(s). Take responsibility for your nutrition and try not to depend or rely on the food that’s provided by your school, university or work place. Many meals can be cooked in bulk, stored and you’re good to go for many days, with only having to cook once. This ultimately saves time and money.


That’s about it. I hope you might have found one or another useful tip. However, there’s one last thing to do on sundays:


B e   l a z y .   It’s the weekend after all, so feel free to just not do anything at all. Try and push aside some responsibilities, stop worrying about tasks that lay in the future. Sleep in, have breakfast in bed, binge-watch your favorite show on netflix or curl up with a good book. Just chill the heck out.