#Real Estate Presentation

[visual-sculptors]

Overcoming Pain Points in Working with a Presentation design agency.

In today's interconnected global business landscape, collaborating with presentation vendors hailing from diverse cultural backgrounds can present a set of unique challenges.

The cultural nuances and differences in communication styles, work ethics, and expectations may lead to misinterpretations, delays, or even conflict during the project execution phase.

To mitigate these potential obstacles, it is crucial for both parties to approach the collaboration with a sense of cultural sensitivity, openness, and a genuine willingness to understand and respect each other's perspectives.

By fostering an environment of mutual respect and inclusivity, the collaborative team can create a strong foundation for effective communication, smooth workflow, and successful project outcomes.

To navigate the complexities of cross-cultural collaboration successfully, setting clear communication channels, defining expectations upfront, and providing detailed project guidelines are essential steps.

Open dialogue, active listening, and regular check-ins can help bridge the cultural divide and ensure that both parties are aligned in their goals and project deliverables.

By acknowledging and embracing the diversity of perspectives and approaches, the collaborative team can leverage their collective strengths and creativity to produce presentations.

Providing design services to a wide range of industries on a global scale – Visual Sculptors                          

1. Whether it's crafting quarterly reports or delivering educational content, our expertise in presentation skills and design spans across different sectors to meet the diverse needs of our clients.

[moongreenlight]

Have you ever seen that corny ass skit where it’s the girl talking to her husband asking him to fix things and he says “I’m not a plumber” “I’m not a carpenter” bla bla bla and then one day he comes home and the girl’s like “oh yeah I had the neighbor come over to fix the things you wouldn’t” and the neighbor says she can either bake him a cake or sleep with him as payment so the husband asks “so what kind of cake did you bake him?” And the girl says “I’m not a baker?”

Very much Neighbor!Price x stay-at-home-mom!reader coded :)

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Neighbor!Price who’s found a quiet little cul-de-sac to settle in when he’s got some time off. It’s a little neighborhood, mostly older people who’re thrilled to have a man like him around to help bring out bins and offer to mow their lawns or rake their leaves or shovel their drives when he’s around.

But somehow he’s found the only other younger family in the area living directly next to him. Parents are a few years his junior, and they’ve got two young kids. He assumes the boy, the older one, is early elementary age- sees you herding him into the car in the morning with a pack lunch and a backpack that’s nearly the same size as he is to and from the house in the morning and afternoon. And the girl, the younger, must be in pre-k, because she’s only out for half the day and doesn’t get the same pack lunch her brother gets.

He’s gotten to know you pretty well. When he’s around, the two of you will chat while you’re tending your garden and he’s working in his garage carrying out some odd project or another. He thinks you’re sweet. Likes the way you wear overalls with a little top when you’re planting flowers in the beds out front. How when you bend over or stand at the right angle he can imagine you’re not wearing a top at all.

He hates your husband. He’s crass and rude and never waves hello to any of the neighbors- odd for such a friendly little community. Leaves for work early and comes home late and leaves you to fend for yourself all day. Doesn’t know how to interact with you or your kids. And Price is almost certain he doesn’t fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked because his bedroom window looks over your living room and he’s caught you on the couch with your hand down your pants more times than could have been coincidence.

He’s known to be the neighborhood handyman. Got a little workshop set up in his garage and a general knowledge about nearly everything, so it’s not uncommon that he gets a knock on the door a few times a week. Usually it’s some of the older neighbors popping over to see if he can fix their TVs or help their grandkids connect to the Wi-Fi, but it’s a pleasant surprise when you turn up on his porch mid-morning.

You’re scrunching the ends of your soaking wet hair in a towel. Apologizing as soon as you hear him turn the deadbolt. Feverishly going on about how you must have blown a circuit in the bathroom trying to dry your hair and you’d usually be able to manage but your husband shoved a bookshelf in front of the breaker and you can’t get through to it.

He’s sweet about it. Always is, but especially for you. Follows you over to your place and promises you no less than ten times that it’s really no trouble. He’s happy to help. It’s a quick fix, but he drags it out as long as he can. Insists on following you up and down the stairs from the basement to the top floor twice to make sure everything’s working properly.

He notices that the bathroom door sticks and that the fire alarm in the hallway is chirping from a low battery. You apologize for the toys in the living room and the clean laundry pile on the couch and the state of your house. Say that your husband is racking up a hefty to-do list with a small laugh that’s just a bit too forced.

He’s thrilled to tell you that he’s got some free time later in the week and says he’ll come over if only to help out your husband. Makes some backhanded remark about how your husband is clearly a busy lad. You refuse- of course- sweet thing that you are, but he turns up the next day after you’ve taken your kids to school anyway.

He tails you up the drive so there’s no way you can shut him out. Shushes you when you try to apologize for one reason or another and takes off to fix not only the sticky bathroom door and the fire alarm batteries, but also the dripping kitchen faucet and the garbage disposal that’s been broken for months.

You try to stay clear of whatever room he’s working in, chirping short responses to whatever nonsense question he asked in an attempt to lure you over. It was only when he was about to head out and he saw you leaning on the dryer to keep it shut that he saw his golden opportunity.

You were clearly trying to hide it, but even with a small load of clothes in, it sounded like you’d thrown a pair of boots into a tin garbage pail and shook it hard as you could. You tried to shoo him off, but he wasn’t having any of it.

There’s enough skirting around the subject to give you chance to turn down his advances, but when he realizes you’re not outright telling him to go fuck himself, he’s essentially taking it as a challenge to see if he can’t push you to that point.

Hoists you up on the still clanging machine and pushes between your legs on the weak pretense of needing you there to keep the door shut while he works. The machine shook the straps of your top down off your shoulders and made him acutely aware of the fact that you hadn’t had the time to put on a bra yet. It made his pants near painfully tight on the crotch.

He’d try and make idle chat. Your kids and plans for the day, but it’s entirely too hard for him to focus on anything other than the way your thighs are pressing together as the dry cycle started to bang the machine around more. He makes a light comment about how he’s not sure how you get anything done around the house with the dryer in this state. Your laugh is breathy.

And when he leans over you to reach to the back of the machine, he can feel the way your soft panting breaths fan his neck. Confirms his suspicions.

“Alright?”

You’re chewing the inside of your lip while you nod. Clearly starved for stimulation if all it takes is a dry cycle to get you off. Poor thing.

It’s stuffy in the laundry room. Adds to the appeal. Makes your shorts ride up and stick to your legs. Your thighs are dewy and glide together when you shift under his gaze.

“You sure, doll?”

The two of you are almost nose-to-nose. You’re leaned back, caged in by his big arms that look even bigger in his almost obscenely tight shirt. He’s smiling. Letting his eyes wander to your collarbones. The way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.

Before you could choke out your answer, the dryer stopped. Chimed the alert and slowly stilled. You took a shaky breath and nodded once more, looking like you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or relieved. He backed off, stretched out his hand to help you down.

You lead him to the kitchen. Ask if you can get him anything. Tea or food. He declines. You say something about stopping to get cash when you’re out picking up your daughter in a couple hours. He declines again.

“John, really, I appreciate your help. You have to let me get you back.”

You’re filling the kettle with water anyway, leaned just slightly over the sink. He knows it’s impolite to stare, but he’s never had very good manners when it came to things like that.

“Bake me a cake or somethin’, then. Sleep with me. Won’t take your money, though.”

You whirl around and end up sloshing some water down your front. Doesn’t seem to phase you. Your eyebrows are damn near at your hairline.

“I don’t know if that’s appropriate, considering…”

He snorts a soft laugh. It’s kind- not at all suggestive. Like he’s playing off a clever joke.

“What? Baking me a cake?”

You purse your lips and set the kettle on the stove.

“Never been a very good baker.”

He about hurdles the kitchen island like he’s running track.

“That right?”

You make a thoughtful sound before clicking on the burner. He can see you biting back a smile. You finally turn to face him. Leaned back on your hands with your head cocked slightly to the side.

“I just don’t know that it would be appropriate given our- my- situation.”

It’s his turn to hum and nod. Take a few steps forward, slow and slinky like a predator stalking toward its prey.

“Sure.”

You chew your bottom lip. Try to find some resolve in fussing with your wedding ring. It’s horrible. Small. He can’t help but think about how he’d be able to get you a much better one. He takes a few more steps forward.

“It’s complicated, John.”

Your voice is mousy now.

“I know.”

A few more steps forward and he’s back nose-to-nose with you. Pinning you against the counter.

“I just-“

“Then tell me to go home.”

The button of his jeans grazes your groin and sends sparks up your spine. You recoil slightly, but he’s got his massive hands on your wrists to keep you in place.

“My husb-“

“Don’t. S’not what I said. Tell me to go home. Tell me to go home, and I’ll leave. S’easy as that.”

The coarse hair of his beard brushes along your jaw. Visible goosebumps rise all the way up your neck and down your arms.

“John, he-“

A throaty growl from him.

“He’s not getting a lick of you.”

And then somehow he’s got you on your back on the couch. Shoved off the pile of laundry and pushed you down. His eyes are near pitch black and hungry. Ravenous. He tears off your shorts. Doesn’t wait for you to hoist your hips, just yanks so hard that you’re a little worried you’ll get thrown off the couch with them.

He is wretched. Planting wet kisses from the inside of your knee all the way up to your sex frustratingly slow. Big hands splayed over your hips to keep you from bucking up into his mouth. He’s got this maddeningly smug smile on his face like he’s waiting for the perfect moment to say I told you so. Like he knew this was going to happen from the start, you were just too stupid to see.

Your underwear is embarrassingly wet from your little go on the dryer. Your pussy puffy and sensitive underneath. You whine when he kisses over the damp spot. Laves his tongue over your folds without pulling them to the side. He makes some comment about the state of you that borders on snarky, but you choose to ignore it.

When he finally does rid you of your panties, there’s a moment of clarity where you realize what you’re doing. You push up on your elbows and try to roll out from under him, but he gives your clit a mean slap that forces you back onto the couch and ends your protest. Sends you to that liminal, clouded headspace where all you can focus on is how desperately you need to come.

It’s clear he’s savoring the moment. Running the point of his tongue through your folds. Teasing at your hole. Artfully swirling around your clit, but never close enough to give you the friction you’re so desperately craving. Planting hot, wet kisses on your inner thighs. Leaves a few love bites in his wake like he’s boasting; so certain your husband wouldn’t get close enough to notice that he had no problem decorating you as he pleased.

You’re a mess. Being taken apart stitch by stitch. Panting and whining and begging for more. Your orgasm is coiling tight under your belly without him having to do much. Any other time you’d have felt a little pathetic, but you were too preoccupied to care now.

He finally brings his hands up and you think he’s about to stuff you full, but he only lets his fingers drag slowly along your sensitive sex. Collects some of your arousal and pulls it up toward your naval. Watches the goosebumps form under his touch.

He rucks your shirt up with his free hand and immediately wraps his lips around your pebbled nipples. Tongues at them. Lets his teeth graze teasingly over them. And whatever one he’s not got currently in his mouth, he’s working his fingers over. Pinching and flicking until you’re teary eyed and squirming under him.

And then finally, fucking finally, he ducks back down and fixes his mouth on your clit. Sucks gently on the swollen bud for just a moment and then companies his mouth with two fingers bullying their way inside you.

The stretch is almost uncomfortable in its suddenness, but you quickly get used to it. The pleasure is blinding. Forces you to throw your head back against the cushion and screw your eyes tightly shut. A string of high, needy moans float through your gaped lips.

He’s sweet, Jesus, is he. Hums and groans with his mouth still on your bundle of nerves. Pulls away just enough to tell you how pretty your pussy is taking him before going back to work on your sensitive clit. You want to scream. You think you may actually come entirely undone on this couch if he doesn’t stop.

And then your orgasm coils so tightly within you that it explodes outward. Tears through you and leaves every square inch of your skin sizzling. He doesn’t let up. Pins you down by the stomach with his forearm and continues down his warpath. The sounds his fingers make when they sink into you are so pornographic that it makes your face hot.

You eventually find it in you to warble out something that sounded like please, too much. And he pulled off, still with that smug grin pulling his lips now surrounded by glistening slick caught in the hair of his beard.

He gives you one last kiss. Lewd and wet and so searing hot you’re worried it will actually blister the sensitive flesh of your cunt. He’ll sit back on his haunches and fuss with the button and zipper of his jeans before saying something horrible and cheeky like

“C’mon, doll. Thought you were set on payin’ me back.”

[sincerely-sofie]

Can you make a Christmas comic? It can be about anything you can imagine

I went with the gang from The Present is a Gift for this, and Twig hijacked the intended theme of warm-and-fuzzy holiday feelings and turned it into having hope for the future, even if you miss the past, because you have your loved ones to support you. Hope that's alright; she really wouldn't cooperate during the scripting process until I went with it.

To keep this comic easy to scroll past for the uninterested, I've put the last 9 pages under the cut! I'm trying to be more considerate of those who are going through my blog, haha.

This takes place after the events of The Present is a Gift, where everyone has mostly settled into having Ark in their group.

[cuppatealove]

I have made a Great Resolve to resurrect and finish the cross stitch I started when I was 15, long abandoned.

I have, erm, rather a way to go.

[thirstforhelmets]

Vergil Loving The Shit Out of His Wife

Even though she childish and bothers him to no end.

Loves getting a rise out of him at every opportunity.

Randomly kisses him but violently cringes whenever he gets back at her with sappy poetry or terms of endearment.

Also he’ll kill anyone who thinks of touching a hair on her head or re-directing their wrath onto her.

That raven that keeps messing with her potted peppers on the front porch though?

Vergil’s cool with them.

[hivepixels]

.

[catncore]

Mrs. Twister ready to 1v1  you at Pork City. 

[infinitethree]

OOC::

I'm saving the explicit reveal of what the pattern of the floor looks like for later.

That's because it looks like this (w/ a smaller 5-block star hidden under the table)

Aster has not yet clocked that it's a fucking star, nor is aware that Daz is gonna name their group The Council of the Star.

He's saving that for when he can give Aster a metaphorical gut punch/overrule his inevitable objections about it. He is sooooo normal and reasonable you guys, this is certifiably sane behavior <3 <3 <3

[deus-ex-mona]

“a sicks’ dream come true; coming soon to fanfic channels near you”

[batgeance]

thinking very much about all the upgrades to the batcave bruce is working on. and also. car garage.

[mikamink]

I have been in a Genkishi Admiring phase lately and collecting some of his official art. I just think he’s neat~ ( ˊ ꒳ ˋ) ♡

Planning on skimming the manga again soon for his panels so I can put together another character reference sheet for myself. I have many thoughts about him and it would be nice to get around to drawing some.

[visual-sculptors]

Misaligned Vision: Choosing the Right Presentation design agency for Your Company

Selecting a presentation vendor for your company is a critical decision that requires careful consideration. It is imperative to find a vendor whose vision and values align with your own organizational goals and objectives.

Misalignment in vision could result in misunderstandings, delays, and a presentation that may not effectively communicate your message. To ensure a successful partnership, it is essential to conduct thorough research on potential vendors, review their past work, and clearly communicate your expectations and requirements.

Look for a vendor who possesses not only the technical expertise and creative skills to deliver a top-quality presentation but also understands your brand, values, and target audience at a deeper level.

In today's competitive business landscape, the ability to convey information effectively through presentations is paramount. Hence, selecting the right presentation vendor can make a significant difference in how your message resonates with stakeholders.

By engaging in open and transparent communication with the selected vendor, you can foster a collaborative relationship that enhances the overall quality of the presentation. Ultimately, by choosing a vendor who shares your vision and values, you can ensure the successful delivery of a compelling and impactful presentation that reinforces your company's brand image and messaging.

We specialize in branding designs – Visual Sculptors

1. The design agency always follows client-approved colors, fonts, and style for consistency in design trends. They incorporate client-specified image and icon styles to strengthen the company's brand. If clients provide PowerPoint templates, the agency adjusts them for optimal presentation quality.

[snowfea]

Been working on a school project for 48 hours almost non stop, if I hear about PV panels again I'm yeeting these things into the sun

[pathetic-gamer]

extremely true tags from deep in the notes. I was dying to know more about this whole thing, so I looked it up and the whole saga is wild.

The guy in this clip, Sean Dolan, went to a school board meeting to say they weren't doing enough to prevent student bullying. He was brushed off by the superintendent, Lance Hindt, so a man named Greg who had gone to Jr High with Hindt showed up at another meeting to accuse Hindt of being a bully himself, including mocking him for his last name ('Gay') and physically assaulting him in a bathroom, which almost caused his suicide. Hindt laughed after he finished speaking at this meeting, which went viral and led to even more people to come forward to corroborate the claims, including one saying he had witnessed the specific bathroom incident, and others ‐ including a former classmate and now judge in Alabama - saying he had been a known vicious bully. There were even court documents surfaced from a lawsuit in which he was as a young adult accused of having beaten a man into a coma. (that case unrelated to the classmate-turned-judge)

All of this was, of course, followed by months of parents and students petitioning for Hindt to be fired, and others petitioning for him to NOT be fired. There were even teachers who held rallies in support of him. (Based on op eds, open letters, and old facebooks posts, it seems that a fair amount of this was actually in part spillover caused by the harassment used on both sides, including a fear of retaliation from both vocal opponents of the school district - like Sean and his friends/followers/allies - and the district itself.) Regardless, the school board backed Hindt and refused to do anything.

Sean then brought forth the plagiarism accusations, which must have been the final nail in the coffin. The school board obviously still took Hindt's side, but Hindt resigned, and the school board gave him a massive payout AND agreed to pay for a defamation lawsuit. (That part is especially wild - remember this is coming from taxpayer dollars, the same taxpayers who had forced him to resign. The state cut the district's budget the next year as a consequence of this gross misuse of funds. Worth noting that there was never any lawsuit filed, as far as i can tell.)

The University of Houston didnt do anything about the accusations until the actual national association of scholars officially demanded they investigate and revoke his doctorate - the University won't say whether they actually revoked the degree bc of privacy laws, but they did take down his dissertation, which they pretty much only do in cases of some kind of fraud.

so anyway, wild stuff.

[idea-explorer]

[wedesignblog]

Real Estate Presentation Template