Street Vendors in Hanoi from Above by Loes Heerink
Loes Heerink is a talented self-taught photographer and communication officer based in Enschede, Netherlands. For her photo series “Vendors from Above”, Loes has spent days on bridges to capture the diversity in colors and the beauty of street vendors in Hanoi.
The more I find myself having to explain executive dysfunction to people the more I realise it’s near impossible. There’s a thing. I wanna do that thing, I really do. But no matter how hard I try to tell my brain to do the thing, it won’t do the thing. I can’t tell you the amount of hours I’ve spent scrolling mindlessly through social media wanting more than anything to stop, but I can’t.
This concept is so ridiculously alien to abled/neurotypical people and makes awareness/acceptance for it so hard to achieve. If an abled/nt person wants to, say, have a shower, or get some food, they just up and do it, no second thought. But the amount of mental exhaustion that goes into getting myself to get up and do one of those things can honestly be disabling in itself.
It’s not laziness, or not caring. It’s a total mental block between wanting something and doing something about it. I really wish the concept of this was more widely acknowledged. We are not lazy.
Me: Alrighty Brain! We spent 3 hours studying these last night so I know we can do them! So what kind of chemical reaction is this?
Brain: *banging pots and pans* vERONICA OPEN THE-OPEN THE DOOR PLEASE i’m nOt here FoR YOUU’d scribble stars oN the cUFfs of your jeans :3 NaOOoOOoooOomiIIII so itS like DRugs its BETTer than dRUgs jERemy ITS FR-MY CAAANDY STOOOOORE BUT -you-BuT-yoU-BUT -you-BUT-YOU MAKE mY BALls SO BLUUUUE You HUrt tHEm bad-BAd? HAS BEEN ROUGH.kiNKY and I AM MORE THAN YOU JAVEEer Im THe STROnger MAN BY FAAR aCROSS THE YELLOW FIELD I HEAR HIM CALLING: oNE DOLLAR TWO DOLLARS FIve HunDRED tweNTY FIVE ThOuSanD SIX HUNDRED mIIIIINUTES
REQUEST: could you write one of just lying in bed with Harry, just talking about the future and it’s all fluffy with a bit of smut? Thanks💗💗
REQUEST: could you write an imagine/fluff about pillow talk, like what you and harry would talk about after making love and the sweet nothings he would tell you 😊
Decided to combine these two. I’m not a huge smut writer so there’s not much smut but there is plenty of fluff! Hope you enjoy! x
Lazy moments with Harry were definitely at the top of your list of favorite things.
The two of you were lost in one another, both of your legs intertwined and covered in the pastel pink sheets of your bed. He was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs, the tattoos on his body illuminated only by the (many) candles that he’d lit earlier that night while you were preoccupied in your office. You were wearing an oversized shirt that you’d stolen from him months ago, a black button-up with “Styles” embroidered over the breast. Your arm was thrown across his chest as your head nestled into the crook of his neck, and his arm was wrapped around you, his hand settled at the skin of your waist as he traced circles against your skin.
The two of you had just spent a while being intimate with one another, which was evident by both of your horrendous sex hair and the blissful afterglow that the both of you carried on your features. You’d been together for almost half a year now, and in that time you’d spent countless hours fooling around between the sheets—Harry connected with you like no one else ever had, and he knew it. The two of you had a more than active sex life, but it wasn’t only about the sex, it was about the moments.
It was the moment after you scream his name, when he leans over to press a soft kiss to your temple. The way in which he never lets you forget that you are safe, that you are in control, and that he loves you.
It’s the moments where he looks at you—I mean, he REALLY looks at you. Head to toe, as if he’s trying to commit your every dip and curve to memory, even though he probably already has. It’s the way he lets out a small sigh and a goofy smile once he’s gotten the chance to see every inch of your skin, as if your body was the answer to all the questions he’d ever asked.
It’s the moment after it all, after you’d scampered into the bathroom and the both of you had slipped into something to cover your skin from the cold air. Moments like right now, where the two of you were absolutely content with tucking yourselves into one another and pretending like both of you were the only people in the world. That’s certainly what it felt like—you felt his chest rise and fall slowly, and the feeling of his lips at the top of your head made you smile.
long story short, i moved to england because my landlords lost a cheque and told me they’d already cashed it, so i thought i had $1700 more than i did. i spent it, four months later they found the check, and they want their money back. i’ve already paid back $1000, but i owe another $650 still. i’m trying to pick up as many hours as i can, but i live in the city with the highest unemployment rate in canada, so that’s not easy to come by.
my birthday is on sept. 29, so i’m hoping i’ll get enough birthday money to cover at least half of it, but my family is also pretty broke so i’m not sure if that will pan out.
basically i’m scared. i’m really scared. my roommate and my partner don’t deserve to get kicked out of our beautiful home because i can’t make enough money. i’m in tears right now because i don’t know what else to do but ask for help.
if you’d like something in exchange, i’m very willing to put my skills to work, so this is what i can offer:
- i’m a masters student in education. i’m damn good at writing. you want a resume/cv? cover letter? essays? book reports? proofreading? not only will i do it, i’ll do a damn good job. want it to sound like you, but better? send me a sample of your other work and i’ll make it happen. - want me to ghostwrite your story or fanfiction? i’ll do it. if you’re not sure if i’m a part of the fandom you’re looking for, just ask. - want a letter you can read when you’re feeling down telling you how amazing you are, how valued, and how loved? i’ll write it for you. hell, i’ll write it by hand and mail it to you with little stickers. - you want nudes? fuck yeah, done. you into weird stuff? trust me, i do not care. please signal boost this and donate if you can. i’m so scared that my 25th birthday is going to be the day i’m evicted from my home.
I just finished the final episode of the Balance Arc and like, I can’t believe how kind the narrative of the whole thing is.
Their interdimensional ship runs on love!
The real magic was literally the friends they made along the way!
The found and lost and found again family repeatedly chooses to stick together against all odds!
The character growth is grounded in learning to accept help and strengthening relationships instead of tearing them apart!
The romances are born out of mutual respect and not needlessly complicated with miscommunication for conflict!
Happiness and hope aren’t seen as naive, but as desirable states of being!
Characters are allowed to be vulnerable and feel pain and aren’t mocked for it!
Not only is death not a vengeful, capricious, or malicious entity, but he’ll probably make you pancakes in the morning!
They got called out for playing into a gross trope by killing off some of the women who love women and instead of being defensive about it they brought them back to life as BENEVOLENT, PROTECTIVE, STREET RACING DRYADS.
It’s not perfect. Pobody’s nerfect. But it was created with love at its core. Those dumb boys set out to kill some time and ended up sending more love and general good feelings out into the world than I think they’ll ever realize. They did good and I hope they feel good about it.
everyone needs more tony and babies in their life, right? have a fic. because tony canonically goes to hospitals and hugs babies who need it. (for mobile users, there’s a read-more after a few paragraphs)
Tony Stark isn’t
new to kids, not exactly.
He’s always tried
to visit paediatric wards when he had a moment, letting the kids play
with the armours and telling them stories. He helped Reed and Sue
with babysitting, and he remembers Val’s first attempts at building
microprocessors. He held a newborn Danielle Cage in his arms and he
marvelled at how tiny she was. He’s always glad to help his baby
Avengers with homework.
He likes kids. He
might never have his own, and he tells himself he’s made his peace
with that, but he likes kids and he likes spending time with them,
from babies and toddlers to I’m-not-a-kid-anymore
the moments he spends with kids never get any less special.
as someone who’s played through endless summer without spending literally one (1) diamond—a lot of the enjoyment that comes from playing the game is saturated by the desire to spend diamonds in order to get a happy (or happier) ending. the book is no longer reliant on the player’s actions to produce an good outcome, but instead on how much money the player has rolling around in their bank account at the time. it’s… not good.
this got really long (WARNING: this is super fucking long (by super fucking long i mean +1,500 words long, so super fucking long), i was fueled by rage and pretty much nothing else), so i had to split it into parts. yeah.