Have you noticed when you meet a particular brother or sister for the first time, you get along with them instantly. You agree on most things, you feel comfortable in their presence and most importantly you talk to them as if you have known them for years.

1) I was 30 years old. And in what many would consider a dream job. But I was pretty miserable. Because I knew I was letting my real dream--to become a screenwriter/filmmaker--die.

2) Sitting in my office one night, it hit me, if I did let the dream die, I would become toxic, because that's what death does, and that toxicity would ooze out of me, onto those I loved.

3)In that instant, I decided to make a shift, to find a way to finally, after years of denying it, do the thing. Try, at least. So I went to my best friend, @DavidLevien, who was already writing, and asked him for help.

4) David gave me The Artist's Way and said that when we had the right idea, he and I would write a screenplay together.

5) Soon thereafter, I had to good luck of walking into an illegal poker club in NYC, called David in the middle of the night, and we decided to write the thing.

[🔞 hopekook, rimming] happy vday if you celebrate it, last night i fell asleep thinking about a horny hopekook date where they set aside time to cuddle and watch something soothing and mindless. jk chooses a nature documentary, more for background ambiance than anything else.

they start out with hobi laying crosswise on the couch, and jk crawls between his legs, rests his head on hobi's sternum. he likes to cuddle like that because he can hear hobi's heartbeat. also hobi will usually skritch his scalp when they're in this position.

he's doing that now, running his fingers from jk's forehead to the nape of his neck, but then he scoops along jk's ear instead. fingertips smoothing along the shell curve and then gently tugging on his earlobe. he keeps doing it, repetitive. the apartment is warm.

and quiet, too, except for the doc in the bg and the soft sounds of their breathing. hobi's fingertips keep tugging easily, gently on his ear lobe and all of a sudden jk realizes he's getting hard. he doesn't pay it much mind, one or both of them often do when they cuddle, even

if it's just a cuddle session & not anything further. but then hobi moves his leg, feels it, laughs softly, & moves his leg again - this time, deliberately. jk smiles, rubbing his mouth against hobi's sweatshirt. he rolls his hips, real slow like, and feels hobi's dick, too.

Plz take a moment to read this & watch the video.
#threadstorytime
Story of 3D
So when i shifted to Mumbai, a batchmate of mine helped me in finding a rented house. He was fooled by one of his acquaintances, & me with my sister ended up in an under construction building
1)

Near slum.
It is horrific. But I had no choice since we reached by car 2 am, with my 3 dogs. Area was not safe. Even police avoided to enter it

One day when I got down to get in my car to go for work, I heard a growling.
I bent down to see a dog just in bones, feeding puppies 2

Tried to get her out but her one leg was badly broken & bleeding.
One puppy half eaten by rats, coz rats there were bigger than her puppies.
I used auto but contacted many NGO
Got no help.
I started mixing antibiotics & pain killer in rice to feed her.
Initially I had to push
3

The food below the car. But on 3rd day, she actually came out from under the car to eat from my hands.
She started trusting me. I put bandage on her leg.
Called her 3D 😁 which my sister @doorva207 Found really odd & stupid
3D started recovering. She started gaining health
4

I introduced her to children of out building.
Parents found them dirty, but kids are ❤
We gave all of them bath, vaccination.
They were happy.
But every other day her one pup started getting crushed under a tempo or car
People wouldn't bother to slow down
3D would cry to me
5

Do you struggle with "office politics," like when Colleague got a promotion because they seem to have the same hobbies as the boss?

Do you have no idea how to play the game?
Do you recoil at the very word?

Then this thread is for you 👇

First, what exactly is "office politics?"

The definition I'll go with is that it's the actions people take to advance the things they care about in the workplace.

These can be:

1) The company hitting its goals
2) The success of one's projects and initiatives
3) A promotion
4) A plum assignment or leadership role
4) A change in workplace culture, values or process
5) The advancement of a colleague / group of people
6) Personal reputation

If you read this and think, "hmm, this list sounds boring and not at all bad," I agree with you!

Office politics has a negative connotation but is simply another manifestation of humans being complicated and having multiple, sometimes conflicting desires.

Our workplace desires feel more more high-stakes b/c:

1) there is clear hierarchy + power dynamic (ceos, managers, etc)

2) how we perform at work impacts our self-esteem, identity, and ability to sustain ourselves

3) we spend 1/3+ of our waking hours in our workplace

@epballou @AutSciPerson I have to say, all this info about sound sensitivity is making me emotional. I've never been able to talk about this. I can work around airplanes, no protection (did it for years), but if I'm caught near a city fireworks show I lose my mind. The fear and pain is indescribable.

I tell people one of my biggest fears is balloons, and obviously it's funny to imagine, until they see me have a psychotic break when one pops. I lose myself and it's terrifying. I don't know what it is about loud sudden sounds that hurts me, and it appears I'll never know.

I dread the 4th of July every year. My birthday parties were often held then. Recently I discovered if I wear earbuds and blast music with audio PPE on top I can stand to be outside. That first show where I could keep my hands free I held my best friend's hand and felt wondrous.

I'm crying just remembering discovering I could be happy underneath fireworks. I'll never understand why my parents didn't think to ever try to help me, and instead made me suffer for so long, feeling absolutely alone with this. Only once do I remember my mother comforting me.

It was a particularly bad year, a lot of college kids I think renting nearby camps, and I hid under my bed for hours. My mother came up and laid on my bed, dangled her hand down to show she was there, and sang to me. I was 15.