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32technologies · 6 months

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Projector on Rent Near Me: Experience Crystal-Clear Projections!

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melbournepartyy · 3 months

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Transform Your Meetings with Melbourne's Projector Hire

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audiovisualdirects · 1 year

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Projector hire south wales

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audiovisualbristol · 2 years

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smartreceptionss · 2 years

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Projector hire south wales

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atzfilm · 6 months

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king’s play (m);

🎨 wc/pairing; professor!hj/f.professor reader (4,1k)

🎨 genre/content; college!au, fluff, smut: rushed, explicit & unprotected smut

🎨 summary; shadowing your colleague as a new professor, you come to realize the reason why his classes are at full capacity within five minutes of registration

🎨 note; this is self-indulgent and i have no remorse you all are coming down with me.

You balance three coffees in one hand as you rush up the steps, desperately trying to be on time once in your life. Students say hi to you as you run past, a quick smile as you greet them back. You have exactly one minute until your dean scolds you for being late, again, and you were sure this was the time you would be there. But unfortunately the train stopped in the middle of the tracks for a car accident, twice, and it left you with barely enough time to get here. A short 15 minute ride turned into an hour one. It’s not your fault, no, but she’d somehow blame it on you. You push through the front doors, almost dropping a cup as you run through the halls.

“Fifteen seconds!” You fly by Professor Jung’s class, shooting him a glare as he laughs at you, closing his classroom door. You slide around a corner, almost making it to the auditorium. The bells ring before you can open the doors. You slow down, swinging it open with your free pinky and running inside. The room is already full with your students, the Dean sitting in the corner of the classroom, her glasses resting on the tip of her nose. She sighs softly, rubbing her face as you run up the steps, placing the coffee carefully on the podium. You throw your bag down on the table next to it, reaching for the projector remote and turning it on.

The chatting from the students fades out when you clear your throat, tapping on the mic lightly.

“Today’s lesson,” you start, trying to catch your breath. “Is that you never trust public transportation. Ever,” you add. A few students chuckle, your Dean’s frown deepening. The world must be against you; on the one day you needed to be early you couldn’t. And it’s the day she evaluates how you run your classes. You sigh into the mic, rubbing your face. “Pardon me, but I left my usb on the train by accident. Still, you all have the slides I emailed you correct?”

A hand is raised in the front, and you gesture to her. “Yes, Soyeon?”

She points to your side table, “Professor, the coffee is spilling everywhere.”

You quickly turn, the brown liquid dripping to the floor. Perfect. Just… perfect.

“That was a disappointing show you gave me this afternoon, Professor y/n,” your Dean says once all the students leave. There’s no use in hanging your head in shame, but you do anyway. It was indeed embarrassing, but you could’ve been worse. You heard that one of the anatomy professors broke a projector and wrote on the whiteboard in permanent marker.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean for anything like that to happen. We were supposed to use the coffee for watercolor, but so many things went wrong and…” you trail off, her unpleasant frown only deepening as you try to excuse yourself. “I’m sorry.”

“This is unacceptable,” she starts up again, tucking her files into a thick black binder. “I’ll have to reduce your classes next semester, Professor. At least until you get your act together. You won’t earn a permanent spot on the faculty if you continue down this route.” She stands, tucking her purse underneath her shoulder.

“Wait, is there anything I can do? Please, I really didn’t mean for this to happen. I had an amazing lesson planned but things just happened. Please Dean, I really do apologize. I’ll do my best the rest of the semester.” You can’t lose your spot here. This is one of the top universities in the country, and being fired or removed from the faculty is a black stain on your record. No one would want to hire you. You’d be forced to move back to your hometown, and deal with the disappointed looks your parents will give you.

She pauses, eyeing you. “Despite your display today, the students do enjoy your classes. You’ve had high ratings in comparison to the other adjuncts that are currently here. So although I do not like what happened, I can give you another chance. Professor Kim Hongjoong is teaching another class right after this block, and I would like for you to shadow him. Attend his class tonight, and speak to him after about times where he can help assist you in your journey to possibly becoming a full time faculty member. Will that be okay with you?”

“Yes!” you say it a bit too loudly, coughing. “I mean, yes. Thank you for helping me out.”

"You do know the reason why I observed your class. A student complained about your tardiness. That is something we don't allow at our university."

"I understand," you plaster a fake smile as she nods, leaving you behind in the classroom. You know exactly which student told on you; the only person you've ever failed. He was the grandson of one of the university's largest donors (to the point where a building was named after their family) so it was unthinkable to fail a student in that high regard. You hate nepotism, so you didn't give them a chance. He barely showed up to class, and expected an A? You could barely hold in your exasperated scoff when he complained to you. And that choice led you to now. On the brink of losing your job.

"Fucking hell," you mutter, making your way back to the podium to pick up your things. Shadowing Professor Kim. It's going to be a long, long night.

You grip the large coffee in your hand as you walk in the classroom. It’s a large art studio, several paintings on display already. You were going to take a seat in the back, but you decided to place your things on the side and observe the work instead. You take slow steps, taking in each painting. Being an art professor yourself, you can see what techniques each student used, and where they lacked. But overall, the paintings were amazing, especially for a freshman class. Students began to walk in while you were walking around, so you sit in the far back, enough to not disturb but close enough to see what’s going on.

“Evening,” Professor Kim walks into the classroom. You’ve seen him on campus a lot. The art department is pretty liberal with its dress code but he always stands out from the rest; customized clothing that he obviously did himself, piercings lining his ear, nose, and brow. Most of his clothing is oversized but it fits him well. You’ve sat near him in meetings, his jovial nature contagious. And he wasn’t bad looking, at all. You often were at a loss whenever he spoke, his soft tone pleasing to the ear.

Hongjoong gives easy smiles to the students, chatting with each before he gets to the middle of the circle. He claps his hands, a light grin on his lips. “Ready to paint tonight? A quick recap, we’re on the last night of this painting, and for the next, it’ll be freestyle. Any painting medium you’d like, just make sure you can finish it in five sessions.”

Light groans fall from the lips of the students, and he nods, “I know I know. I’d rather at least eight, but we only have six classes left until your final. Need five of those to work on it. Oh,” his eyes flick to yours. “Didn’t even realize we had a guest.”

“Ah, sorry. Thought the Dean mentioned it,” you say, bowing quickly to him. He waves you off, telling the students to start on his paintings. He makes his way over to you, hopping over brushes that lie scattered across the tiles. He stumbles slightly over his own feet, before making it to you and stretching out his hand. You take it with ease, noticing his painted nails. They’re black, fingers adorned with rings.

No wonder students fought to get into his class.

“I’ve seen you in meetings, but we never get the chance to speak,” he says, grinning. “Nice to officially meet you. I’m Professor Kim, but you already know that.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Professor y/n,” your smile matches his. “But of course, you already know that.”

He laughs loudly, completely genuine. “Well, I’m assuming the Dean put you up to this? She always sends people she doesn’t like to my class,” he sighs. “Not your fault!” he says quickly, eyes widening. “God, now you probably think it is your fault. This is why the other professors don’t like me.” His pout is almost adorable, but you don’t get the chance to dwell. A student calls him over, and he apologizes, leaving you back to your own devices.

You sit back in your spot, watching as he speaks to the students softly. You hear various music genres playing out of students’ headphones as he makes his way around. He definitely has a lot of leeway in his class, the Dean telling you that you couldn’t allow students to play music while they’re drawing. Sure, this is your first semester teaching at this university, but you know how to run a classroom. You’ve been teaching at public highschools for years. So you sit there bitterly, watching as students listen to his advice, his slight jumps when he thinks of an idea, his widened eyes as he listens to their feedback. You could probably watch him all day.

A soft bell rings out in class. He turns off his alarm, saying his goodbyes to students. They clean up their workstations as he packs his things, moving around the students and making his way over to you. “So, what d'ya think?” He wiggles his brows, his piercing moving along with it. “I honestly am not too sure why she’d make you shadow my class, especially in the middle of the semester. I’m not doing much but watch them paint,” he rubs the back of his head sheepishly.

“Nope, I can definitely see why they’ve taken this class,” you admit, looking at the paintings. “I mean, they’re just freshmen and they already have their own styles and ways of doing things. And you don’t dismiss it like I’ve seen others do. You embrace it and encourage them to build on it,” you meet his eyes. “Think you have an open spot for a professor?”

He laughs, blush coating his cheeks. “You’re flattering me.”

“Maybe, or maybe I’m being one-hundred-percent honest,” you grin, throwing your tote over your shoulder. “I think a few of your students have questions. I’ll see you next class, hm?” You gesture to a group of young women.

He nods, wishing you a goodnight and quickly moving over to the students. You shake your head at him, moving around the easels and leaving the room.

It’s a bit intimate, watching another’s eyes as they focus on something else entirely. The quiet observation, hushed breath as they take in whatever they’re looking at. Observing how they smile, their eyes widening in realization, the way their gaze flicks to yours in awe. It’s overwhelming when your eyes finally meet, your stomach dropping slightly when they look at you in surprise. There Hongjoong is, staring at your eyes as you look back in shock. You wonder if he felt the drop that you usually do, but he keeps your gaze, soft and innocent. Until you see his pierced brow quirk up, waiting for you to say something. That’s when you have to tear away, show your excitement without focusing on his gaze.

“I can believe you have this set! I mean, how? Really, how. Did you steal it from Picasso or something? Raid an art supplier? Professor Kim, this is insane,” you hold it delicately. As if the palette will suddenly shatter if you gripped it too tightly. Of course it wouldn’t, but no ordinary person just holds this.

You’ve been shadowing him for the past two weeks, watching as he walked around the classroom with effortless confidence, spoke to his students with excitement only someone who’s passionate about their subject could muster. Professor Kim Hongjoong was one of the most talented and spirited colleagues you’ve ever met. A lot of them were older and cared less about teaching art (not all, but many). But the way he commanded the room had you silent, staring in awe. Looking past his outer appearance, he cared about what he did. And it only made your dilemma more difficult.

The two of you spent time outside of class together; at first speaking about classes, but soon going into discussions about personal lives and hobbies. You learned that he had his own studio and he invited you to it one night. So, here you are, staring at one of the rarest painting palettes to exist.

Hongjoong laughs at your suggestions, shrugging. It’s modest how casual he is about having it in his possession, and it’d make you want to slap him if you weren’t so immersed in the bright colors. “A friend of mine had a friend who was friends with a famous art seller. Word spreads around, and I found out where they sold these sets. I sold my first car just to get it,” he says.

Your eyes almost fall from their sockets. “You’re shitting me.”

“Shh,” he holds a paint covered finger to his lips, glancing at the open studio door. “The dean will kill us both if she hears you speaking with banned, colorful words,” he wiggles his fingers, and you laugh. “What? You know her, she’d take classes away from me next semester!”

“Not you, but maybe me,” you say, placing the palette back in its place. “She’s been out to get me ever since I won that faculty award last February,” you frown. “It’s not like she could win anyway, no one likes her. And it’s rare for a student to enjoy her history classes. I barely kept my eyes open when I was an undergrad here.”

He frowns. "I was unfortunately one of those faculty members that had to sit in on one of her lectures. I can see why her ratings were so low," he snickers. "Her tenure was definitely the only thing keeping her here. And she isn't too bad as the dean. A bit straight laced for an art school, but you have to be in a position like that.”

“Yea,” you agree, placing the palette back in its spot. You look around the room. You can tell that he loved using acrylics the most, his paintings abstract and bright. But you saw racks and racks of custom clothing as well. It was definitely a messy studio, he mentioned it before you entered, but you loved it. It’s like you’re walking into his mind, seeing what he’s seeing. You stop at an unfinished painting. It looks like a person, though you can’t quite tell who it is.

“That’s my first love,” he says behind you, hands tucked in his pockets. “She tore up my heart, but she was my muse and the start of my journey. S’not finished, but,” he runs his hands along the outside of the canvas. “Not sure if I want to finish it anyway.”

“It’s already beautiful,” you say, tilting your head. The strokes are bold, as if he was angry as he painted. It’s barely done, but you can already imagine where it’ll end up. “Fucking Hell. You’re one of the most talented people I’ve ever met.”

His laugh is loud, echoing around the large room. You turn to him in mock anger, pouting. “Are you laughing at me, Professor Kim?”

He nods, “Don’t know why I get all giggly when I’m around you. Maybe it’s because you’re my crush.”

“Don’t tease,” you roll your eyes, ignoring the thump in your throat. You hold it in, only a grin exposing your feelings.

Nothing else came of that night. Just you wondering each day if he actually meant those words. If he found you attractive, if he had a crush on you. He didn’t mention it again to you either, the heavy flirting continuing. It almost made you feel a bit kiddish, thinking about your crush on him. You thought you grew out of the giggling with your friends about a boy stage, but apparently not. You’ve spent each night recollecting his words, screaming into your pillow. It was embarrassing and you’d rather not think about it. But he’s been on your mind ever since, taking over every day dream.

“It’s pathetic,” you murmur, putting an earbud in your ear. You’re at the annual conference with other professor’s, making a painting to showcase at the end of the event. You only had a few hours and you barely started, most of your canvas empty. You glance to your side, looking at Hongjoong’s. His was as covered as yours, so it was a relief. You looked back at your painting, feeling a heavy stare.

You glance to the side again, Hongjoong meeting your gaze.

“I hate being stared at, you know,” you retort. His lips curve into that lopsided grin of his, your face warming without remorse. “That implies that I want you to stop staring, Professor Kim.”

“It’s your fault you’re so pretty, Professor. It’s a bit hard to look away even for a brief moment,” he says softly. But he follows what you say, eyes moving back to his painting. As if he didn’t utter the tenderest compliment you’ve ever heard. You let your hand rest against your chest, trying to control your heart. You don’t notice how his eyes flick back to yours for a moment, amused.

"You can't say things like that," you start. He pauses his stroke, glancing at you.

"Why not?"

"People might get the wrong idea." (People = yourself).

"And what if it's not wrong at all?" He raises that pierced brow of his again. It's taking everything in you to stay in your spot, your teeth grinding together as you grip your stump. Think good thoughts think good thoughts–

"I want you, Professor y/n. It's as simple as that," he adds in.

You almost press the paintbrush into the canvas, hard. You look around quickly, the other professors in the room too immersed in their artwork to notice what he’s saying. And all of them have headphones on, so his soft whispers won’t go past you. You look back at him, wetting your paintbrush.

“Don’t tease me,” you whisper back, lightly mixing the red.

He sighs softly, “I’m not teasing. I don’t know how much more obvious I can make it. We’ve been on two dates already.”

This time, you do paint incorrectly, your brush falling to the floor. You grab your cloth, dabbing the canvas quickly to get rid of the mistake. Luckily it disappears in an instant. You let out a sigh of relief, turning to Hongjoong. You lean closer to your canvas, making sure no one can read your lips.

“Two dates? I don’t even remember the first?”

“First, my studio. Second,” he gestures around here. “This.”

“You’re calling this conference a date?”

“I invited you to sit next to me,” he smiles, glancing at you. “Is that not enough for one?”

Kim Hongjoong may be one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid your eyes on, but man, was he a dumbass. You nudge his foot, glaring at him. “You are such a-!”

“Hm?” He raises his brow. “Such a what, y/n?”

You lose your train of thought, mouth opening and closing as he stares at you in amusement. You never thought that someone saying your name would sound so… alluring. You swallow, turning back to your painting. He doesn’t say anything else to you, but you feel his shoe tap yours. You still don’t say a word, even as his foot covers yours.

“I swear Hongjoong–”

He stops tapping, and you falter.

“Hongjoong?” He whispers softly. “Fuck, say my name again.”

Nope.

You stand, grabbing his arm. He yelps, a few professors glancing. This is completely and utterly unprofessional, but you don’t care at that moment. Because right now, you want to find the nearest empty conference room and - well. You drag him into the first room you see. Just as you peek in and make sure no one is around, he shuts and locks the door behind you. There’s only a momentary pause, before his lips are on yours. His work is quick, teeth hitting against one another’s, vests tossed to the side, coats somewhere on the opposite side of the room. Your back hits the conference table rather harshly, ouch spilling from your lips. It makes his quick pace falter for a moment to look at you in concern, but you’re already unbuttoning your blouse. He lifts his shirt up with one hand, and you have only but a brief moment to admire his tattoo decorated skin before he’s on you again.

“Think they’ll notice we’re gone?” You tease through kisses, his lips traveling down your neck. He snorts slightly, looking back up at you.

“They wouldn’t if you weren’t so involved in the presentations,” he slips off his pants, playing with the buckle of yours. Your hands cover his, aiding him. Soon enough you’re both pantless

“No one was speaking up, there had to be a sacrifice- oh-”

His fingers slip into your underwear, sinking into you with ease. His palm nudges your clit as he does so, lips still against your neck. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer into you. He curls them, moving in and out quickly. You hold back a moan, fingers digging into his skin. You hear a speaker in the distance, grabbing his hands and pulling them out. He looks at you in confusion, but you only slip your hand into his pants, stroking his cock. He groans, head pressing against your shoulder.

“No time,” he murmurs.

“I know, that’s why we need to be quick,” you whisper, nudging him closer to you. “Think you can fuck me and be done in less than five minutes?”

He rolls his eyes, “Not in college anymore.”

“Hongjoong…” you frown, and he swallows slowly.

“Fuck, I love when you say my name,” he pushes his underwear down. Just as you’re about to say it again, his cock sinks into you with ease. You press your hand against your mouth, holding back the moan that threatens to escape. His fingers grip your hips, pulling you closer to him as he presses his hips into you. You let your hand slip in between the both of you, rubbing your clit at the pace he sets. His fingers dig harshly, breaths loud.

“You feel so good around me,” he mumbles. “Just like art.”

“Joong,” you utter, only causing him to move quicker. He lets go of one side of your hip, moving your own hand away and rubbing your quickly. “Fuck, I’m close.”

“Come for me, pretty girl, come on,” his teeth bite your neck softly. You wrap your arms around his back, humping his hand. It happens much quicker than you realize, his soft whispers in your ear pushing you over the edge. You hold him tightly as he stills of you. “y/n, fuck, y/n I need to come pretty girl.”

You let him go and he pulls out immediately. He disappears before your eyes in a moment, grabbing the garbage under the two of you and coming. The sight is humorous in itself, but you’re in too much of a daze to let a laugh out. You slowly get up from the table, looking around for your vest as you pull up your pants. He steadies himself, turning around to look at you. A lazy smile crosses his lips, following your suit to redress. After a couple of minutes of gathering yourselves, you turn, looking at him.

“A garbage can?” You snicker, tossing him the hand sanitizer you keep in your pocket. He catches it with ease, frowning.

“There’s nothing else around!”

He adjusts his shirt, messily. You move closer to him, helping him adjust his coat and shirt to look not too wrinkled. He does the same for you, tucking loose strands of hair back into its place. His eyes stay on yours as you do so, flicking back to your lips.

“I wasn’t lying,” he says. “You are pretty beautiful, y/n.”

“You’re pretty handsome too, Professor Kim,” you smile at him, ignoring the rattling of your heart.

“I don’t…” he trails off, thinking. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing, I want us to be more than a one time thing. You’re more than that to me.”

“I want that too, Hongjoong.”

Relief washes over his face at your words, “You’re not teasing me right?”

“No, I do like you. I wouldn’t have let you do any of that if I didn’t. But maybe we take it slower next time? Like taking me out for coffee?”

“Okay,” he steps away from you, glancing at the door. “Time to go, then?”

“As long as you don’t go out there with that lipstick on your mouth,” you grin. He grabs his phone and looks at his face. There it is - a long streak of lipstick against his cheek. He rubs it quickly, using your hand sanitizer.

“You would have let me walk out there like that?” He asks, eyes wide. You only shrug, walking past him and out into the hallway.

#fic: kings play #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez oneshot #hongjoong fanfic #this has been in the drafts since april 2022....

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jungshookz · 3 months

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teeny tidbits: namjoon wants a raise & y/n is kind of scary

i watched the proposal again recently + i’ve been on depop trying not to spend a million dollars on all the y2k corporate-core clothes = inspired me to write this snippet of ceo!y/n (you all know i have a soft spot for anything ceo i’m sorry)

“ever since you hired me, i’ve managed to boost sales up by approximately 28%-“ namjoon clears his throat, trying his best to continue standing tall as he points to the screen with his little laser pen, “i’ve been working here for nearly a year and a half which you can argue hasn’t been very long, but at the same time i feel as though my efforts and the results that i’ve produced is well deserving of a raise, miss y/l/n. i wasn’t going to say anything but i’ve actually been offered a position elsewhere with a higher salary, and, well- i do enjoy working here, and i would like to stay here, but-“

you lean back against your office chair, propping both elbows up on the arm chairs before pressing your fingertips together, staring intently at the presentation in front of you

your eyes follow the little red dot darting across the screen and you lick over your teeth as your head tilts to the side slightly

“-so, what do you think?” namjoon reaches the end of his presentation and tucks his pen into his shirt pocket, very much aware of how much heat is radiating off his body from the nerves

he’s heard some things about people who’ve tried to ask for raises, and making the bold move of coming directly to you has historically never ended very well for those guys

jungkook presses the button for the lights to turn on and the blinds to roll back up from where he’s standing by the front door, offering namjoon a smile and a supportive nod

at least five seconds of silence linger in the air and namjoon wonders if you’re able to hear his heart practically beating out of his chest

you’ve also been maintaining eye contact with him the entire time he’s presented which makes him ten times as nervous because he’ll be the first to admit you have very nice eyes

“…i think all of this could’ve been an email, kim.” you lean forward, office chair squeaking slightly as you swipe your phone off the table and unlock it, “the next time you want something, i don’t need a thirty-eight minute presentation on why you think you deserve it.”

“ma’am?” namjoon’s face reddens and suddenly it feels like the collar of his button-up is suffocating him

“who’s trying to poach you from me?”

“i-if you don’t mind, i’d like to keep that detail priv-“ namjoon immediately stops talking when your eyes flicker up from your phone to look at him through your eyebrows, “ah- min corporations, miss y/l/n. i was contacted by their secretary last week.”

“mm, i’ve spoken to that secretary. preppy little thing.” you snort, eyebrow raising slightly at the memory of the one time you got a call on your personal cell phone from min corporations (you’re not even sure how that secretary got your damn number in the first place) inviting you to a lunch with mr. min yoongi himself

you went, of course, more than surprised to discover that the secretary wasn’t just his secretary but also his wife and the mother of his (adorable) daughter

you don’t know how she managed to go from secretary all the way to wife/mother but hat’s off to her for pulling that off

with that being said you’re sure that if she spoke three decibels higher all the dogs in the city would start barking and all the windows in your office would’ve cracked

“you’re a hard worker. i like having you on my team.” you set your phone face down on your desk, “get back to work. we can discuss numbers another day because if you make me look at another excel spreadsheet i might change my mind.”

“oh, i- thank you so much, miss y/l/n, i really appreciate it! thank you so much-“ namjoon fumbles with the projector and switches it off, a weight instantly lifted off his shoulders at the implication that he will, in fact, be getting a raise

“mm.” you gesture with a flick of your wrist for him to leave your office as you raise your phone to your ear, “min yoongi! trying to steal my star salesman, are you?”

jungkook opens the door for namjoon, stepping aside to let him out before shutting the door behind him quietly

“see, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” jungkook beams, giving namjoon a hearty pat on the arm, “congratulations on the raise!”

“i think i need to take a shot or something, that was- so stressful.” namjoon lets out a breath, reaching up to loosen his tie slightly, “god, she really- her eye contact is crazy intense sometimes-“

“it’s probably the eyeliner in her waterline making her look ten times scarier, you’ll survive-“

🎙️ ask y/n for eyeliner recommendations (talk to my characters!)

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to your other faves!)

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this!)

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teriri-sayes · 6 months

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Reactions to Deal Maker's Chapter 202

TL;DR - Alberu teasing Cale by subtly talking about recruiting Basen and Lily to work for the palace. Cale felt like his slacker life dream was being threatened. Cale and Alberu meet Ahn Roh Man via video conference something. Ahn Roh Man's related to the Transparent Blood family.

Overworked Alberu The first part was so funny. Because of the mines Cale gave him, Alberu had been very busy. Even when he hired new people, they were still interns and in training. So when he met Cale in his office, he began to tease the source of his troubles. 😂

He talked and praised Basen and Lily's talents. But Cale realized why he was doing that. He realized Alberu wanted to recruit his siblings to work for the palace! And Cale felt his slacker life dream being threatened! 🤣🤣🤣

Alberu even talked about giving a speech at the opening ceremony of the academy Lily was attending, and Cale had a grim expression as he thought of how to stop it... Cale wanted to support his sister, so if she dreamed bigger and wanted to work for the kingdom, he would still support her... But what about his slacker life dream then? 😂

Raon kept asking Alberu why his human's eyes were shaking or why he looked grim, and Alberu just smiled brightly or laughed out loud. Yeah, he's having fun teasing Cale. 😂

Another funny part was when Cale tried to explain hyunpi and dark past. Despite the explanation, Alberu still took it seriously... which weirded out Cale. 😂 Frankly, I don't know how to explain about Alberu's reaction. I think reading it will be better, because translating it here will be too long.

Ahn Roh Man's Looks Taerang underwent some update and now had some projector function. Which meant that Cale could talk to Ahn Roh Man via a video call. And when they finally saw Ahn Roh Man's face, they were surprised because he was a dark elf Alberu lookalike!

Ahn Roh Man had dark brown skin, brown hair, and brown eyes. His hair and skin were slightly lighter than dark elf Alberu. He wore glasses and appeared to be in his 30s. Unlike Alberu who appeared to be sociable and outgoing, Ahn Roh Man had a cold businessman look.

And then, Cale recalled that this cold businessman was like a version of Alberu who was studious, but was once a gamer who cried about hyunpi and dark past... 🤣🤣🤣 Cale's change of expression was hilarious. Even more when he learned that Ahn Roh Man met The Blue One in the game when he was 15.... Cale thought that was second year of middle school. The exact age of a chuunibyou patient. 🤣🤣🤣 ('Chuuni' means second year of middle school, and 'byou' means disease/illness)

Ahn Roh Man's Family There was some confusion in Cale's group when Ahn Roh Man said that he was part of the family that owned Transparent Co., Ltd. Ahn Roh Man explained that his father was the owner of a small game company. His father's younger brother was the VP, and married the daughter of the family who owned Transparent Co., Ltd.

But his uncle betrayed his father, took over the game company, and with his aunt, handed it over to Transparent Co., Ltd... Why is this cliche in Korean chaebol dramas here? 😂

Some more info. Ahn Roh Man's father was the game developer while his mother was the game designer. The game they created, Raising My Precious Absolute God, was a virtual reality game. Ahn Roh Man became number 1 in the rankings because he felt like he had to. After all, this was the game his parents created and worked hard for.

Ending Remarks Still no info about the Soos, hahaha. But we had some info dump about Ahn Roh Man. Next chapter will probably be more stuff about the game.

#tcf spoilers #trash of the count's family

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

Text

take the day off

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: after an intense night with your bodyguard, a new revelation completely changes your perception of him, and your feelings along with it.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of blood & violence

word count: 3.5k

a/n: first of all, thank you so much to @lowkeythor for the request that inspired this whole series! & thank you so much to everyone that enjoyed the first part and wanted more. i’m still figuring out exactly what I wanna do with this series as far as how many parts it will be, but it will definitely be a slow burn! as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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Dozens of stars intermittently twinkled against the backdrop of a deep sapphire night sky. Some of them were aligned in perfect constellations you couldn’t remember the names of. The moon was nowhere in sight, but its glow still lingered through the glass of your window. The rest of your room was dark apart from the light peaking through beneath your door from the hallway. Sleep had evaded you for the past twenty minutes, and the lull didn’t seem to be coming any time soon.

Turning over onto your back, you closed your eyes as you let out a deep sigh. The events of the night flashed behind your eyelids like a home movie on a projector, and you wished you could cut some parts from the reel. You could almost still feel the warmth of Frank’s body as he’d held you in the living room, the firmness of his chest beneath his shirt, the rough pads of his fingers dancing along the exposed skin on your back.

Tonight was the most he had ever spoken to you since he’d been hired. It completely changed your perception of him. Initially you’d thought he was a bit of a dick. He was always quiet, never spoke more than he had to, and the only emotions he seemed capable of expressing were anger, annoyance, and any variations of those two. But tonight you’d seen him smile, granted it was tiny and fleeting, but God it was a beautiful sight. You wondered what he looked like when he really smiled, teeth and all. You also wondered if his lips were as soft as they looked.

Stop it.

You were being ridiculous. He was your bodyguard. He was hired to protect you. Everything he did for you tonight was because it was his job, not because he liked you. Even if it wasn’t totally unacceptable and unethical for you two to have anything other than a professional relationship, any slight chance you ever had with Frank Castle went completely out the window tonight. Maybe tipsy you couldn’t be trusted after all.

A sound from outside your room had you stilling completely, and your ears instantly perked up. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you quietly got out of bed and silently made your way across the room to the door, placing your ear against the door to get a better listen. It sounded like drawers were being shuffled and cabinets were being searched in the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Frank.

Carefully twisting the knob on your door, you pulled it back slowly and peaked out into the hall. Your brows knit together curiously seeing that the guest room across the hall from yours was open, but empty. Turning your head slightly, you saw the bathroom door was open and the light was on, but there wasn’t a sign of Frank at all.

The events from earlier tonight came flooding back all at once, and your fingers trembled slightly as they gripped onto the door knob.

“Frank?”

Heavy boots thudded against ceramic tile, and Frank immediately appeared in the doorway of the bathroom. He must have heard the nerves in your voice because his eyes darted between you and the hallway as if he was searching for something, finally settling his gaze back on you.

“Yeah?”

A sigh of relief left your lips and you let your head rest against your bedroom door as you took a moment to gather yourself. Catching his eyes again, you shook your head slightly as you gave him a timid smile.

“Just…making sure that was you.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I was still awake. Um…are you looking for something?”

“Yeah, I was tryin’ to find a first aid kit. Thought I had one in my truck. You got one?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Nah, just gotta wrap this.”

Frank briefly held up his right hand and the motion immediately caught your attention. It looked like he had washed all of the blood off his hands, but his knuckles were still stained crimson. A slight pout formed on your lips as you fully pushed open your bedroom door, making your way down the hall towards him. Without thinking, you carefully picked up his wrist and placed his hand in your palm to inspect it. You couldn’t tell what to focus on first; the size of his hand compared to yours or the damage that was a result of your selfishness.

“Frank-”

“It ain’t as bad as it looks.”

“Are we looking at the same thing?”

Lifting your gaze up to meet his, you sucked in a quick breath noticing how close you were to him again.

And that he had undone a few buttons on his shirt.

“I’ve had worse.”

Quickly dropping your gaze back to his hand and hoping you hadn’t been caught staring, you nodded slowly and gently tugged at his wrist.

“I have one in my bathroom. Come on.”

Frank didn’t budge at all when you tried to tug him along. Instead he gave a shake of his head and pulled his wrist from your grasp.

“If you can just grab it for me, I got it.”

“Frank, this is all my fault. Please let me fix it.”

“It really ain’t-”

“Please?”

Frank started down at you silently for a moment, glancing down at his hand before searching your eyes again. He parted his lips to let out a deep exhale as he turned his head to the side, eyes drifting over the bathroom before finally nodding and gesturing towards the hall.

“Alright, fine.”

As he sat down on the toilet seat so that you could be somewhat even in height, it occurred to you that Frank had never been in your bedroom before, which he had to go through to get to your bathroom. A tiny piece of you panicked, not even remembering if it was clean or not, hoping you hadn’t left anything laying around like a bra, or God forbid something worse. After you retrieved the first aid kit from under the sink and opened it on the counter, you grabbed a packet that contained an alcohol wipe and tore it open.

“This is gonna sting.”

Frank only grunted in response. Wrapping your fingers around his wrist lightly, you dabbed as delicately as you could at the wounds covering Frank’s knuckles. Out of the corner of your eye you saw his jaw clench, and you quietly whispered an apology as you tried to disinfect it as quickly as possible. Your brows furrowed as you studied the angry flesh that was split unevenly.

“Is that normal?”

“What?”

“For this to happen. They almost look swollen.”

“You hit somethin’ hard enough, yeah. They’ll go down.”

You hit something hard enough.

A brief glimpse of that man’s mangled face popped into your head and it made you shudder. Swallowing thickly, you pulled out another packet of antibiotic cream and grabbed a q-tip from a jar on your counter. You delicately applied it to each of his knuckles, making sure they were evenly coated.

“You don’t know how to hit?”

Glancing up from Frank’s hand, you shot him a puzzled look as a breathless laugh escaped your mouth.

“If I did, I wouldn’t need you.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed slightly at your comment, and you shook your head as you smiled to yourself and reached for a packet of gauze.

“No Frank, I don’t know how. I’ve never hit someone before. I’ve never even slapped someone before.”

His eyes followed your every move as you threaded the gauze bandage carefully between each of his fingers to wrap his hand. Once you were satisfied with your work, you closed the first aid kit and pulled a bottle of advil out of your cabinet to set on the counter in front of him.

“I know you probably don’t need it, because you’re very tough, but I’m formally requesting you take it for my sake. And to help reduce the swelling.”

Frank’s eyes drifted from the bottle up to meet yours, a dry scoff leaving his lips as he shook his head at the tiny smirk covering your mouth. Running his tongue along his bottom lip, he motioned his head towards the bottle and looked up at you with the faintest of playful smiles curling at the corner of his lips.

“You mind openin’ that? See, someone got my hand all fucked up tonight. I ain’t supposed to be usin’ it, doc’s orders.”

“Oh, you caught my doctorate on the way in? I was hoping you’d notice.”

“Yeah, any other secret talents you hidin’?”

“A few. Gotta keep you on your toes, Castle.”

Dropping two pills into Frank’s uninjured hand, you placed the bottle back into your cabinet and stowed the first aid kit back beneath the sink. You motioned with your finger for him to follow you, thankful your back was to him as you tried to contain your giddiness as you led him to the kitchen. Frank never entertained your banter before. He never gave in to your questions or attempts to pull him out of his ironclad shell, and you weren’t sure why he was tonight, but you definitely weren’t complaining. Maybe tipsy you was right. Maybe you should cause a little bit more trouble sometimes.

Pulling a glass from the cabinet, you filled it with water and handed it to Frank. His fingers lightly grazed yours as he took the glass from you, motioning it in your direction as a signal of thanks before popping the pills into his mouth and downing half the water. You pulled open the freezer door and pulled out an ice pack, holding it out for him.

“Again, I know you probably don’t need this, but I’m making another formal request.”

“These uh, formal requests, I’m allowed to say no?”

“I don’t think there is anyone in this world that could make you do something you don’t wanna do, but I am a doctor, so.”

“Hard to argue with that. I mean you did go to-”

“Fancy doctor school.”

“Right, right. So bein’ a journalist, that’s…?”

“A cover.”

“Course. Makes sense.”

Frank guzzled the rest of the water and placed the glass in the sink, taking the ice pack with an exasperated sigh as he placed it over his hand and held it up in your direction to check your satisfaction. A soft smile took over your lips, and in a moment of vulnerability you found yourself feeling immensely grateful for his presence.

“Thank you.”

“You’re the doc.”

“No, I meant…for staying and…being so…so nice to me tonight. I um…I really appreciate you being here. I really didn’t wanna be alone.”

Whatever playful flame was dancing around in Frank’s eyes was immediately extinguished by your words, and he abruptly stood up a little straighter. He looked down at his hand and grabbed the ice pack, motioning it in your direction.

“Thanks for uh, fixin’ me up and all.”

“Thanks for letting me.”

Frank gave a slight nod of his head, making a low sound in the back of his throat in response. For a moment you both stood there silently, unsure of what to say to one another next. He cleared his throat as he looked everywhere around the kitchen but at you.

“You should get some sleep.”

A slight pang of disappointment cut through you as you realized whatever moment you two had been having was gone. The Frank you were used to was back, and he was throwing that barricade right back up.

“Right. So should you.”

You turned before he could see the despondency in your eyes, hearing the weight of his boots on the floor as he followed behind you down the hall. Stopping at your bedroom door, you did your best to appear neutral as you turned to face him and gestured towards the guest room.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks.”

“Okay. Well, um…goodnight, again.”

“Night.”

No sweetheart this time. Guess it was nice while it lasted.

Forcing a tight lipped smile, you slipped back into your bedroom and closed the door. Resting your forehead against the cool wood, you closed your eyes and let out a deep breath as you heard the door to the guest room shut.

It was going to be a really long night.

»»———　　———««

A good two hours had passed since your second interaction with Frank. Time seemed to pass like amber sap oozing from a wounded tree, trickling down languidly every time you checked the clock. You had overanalyzed every second, every word, every little movement, and you couldn’t figure out what exactly had caused Frank to shift so quickly. It was driving you absolutely insane, and you kept talking yourself out of getting up to wake him to ask him what the hell his problem was.

On one hand, Frank didn’t owe you anything. He didn’t have to be nice to you. He didn’t have to be here with you. He didn’t even technically have to speak to you. You were a job to him; nothing more, nothing less.

But if you were just a job, why was he here? Why was he being so nice to you out of the blue? Yeah, tonight had been scary for you. But it wasn’t exactly that close of a call. You weren’t in any real danger. Did he feel bad because you had cried? Why did he feel the need to comfort you? You were the one that had fucked up after all. He didn’t have to let you tend to his hand. He didn’t have to banter with you. So why did he?

All these questions were brewing around in your head like a storm, and the one person that could answer them was right across the hall.

Fuck it.

Furiously throwing the covers off your body, you climbed out of bed and swiftly opened your bedroom door, standing face to face with the door that Frank was on the other side of in just three short steps. As you raised your fist prepared to knock hard enough to wake the dead, something in your subconscious unexpectedly halted your movements. You furrowed your brows as an uneasy feeling crept up your spine, and an image from earlier suddenly flashed in your head.

The memory of Frank standing in the bathroom with a few buttons of his shirt undone had instantly sent you into a daze, and you remembered quickly dropping your eyes before you had gotten caught staring. All at once that moment was no longer fuzzy in your head, and your brain had finally caught up enough to process the sight clearly. Frank had been wearing a chain around his neck, and there was a golden pendant hanging off of it that gleamed in the middle of his chest.

You remembered it catching your eye, but you hadn’t gotten a chance to inspect it since you forced yourself to look away so quickly. What was it? And why was it filling you with an overwhelming sense of dread?

It almost looked like…

A wedding band.

»»———　　———««

Sleep never came. Guilt flooded your entire body the second it all clicked into place, and it had been gnawing at the pit of your stomach ever since. It was a simple, gold wedding band. It had to have been his, which meant Frank had been married. Maybe he still was. Maybe he was going through a divorce, holding onto that symbol of a promise and hoping for a different outcome. You felt like the biggest asshole on the planet for the way you had acted towards him.

Frank didn’t reject your relentless effort to get close to him because of his job or because he wasn’t into you, or…maybe he did, but it was most likely because you made him uncomfortable. Here he was just trying to do his damn job, possibly win back his wife he clearly still loved, and you were making his life hell for selfish reasons. Glancing at the clock on your phone, you let out a soft sigh as the numbers showed it was seven in the morning. Sleep was never gonna come.

As you quietly made your way past the closed guest room door and into the kitchen, you instantaneously paused when you saw Frank sitting at the dining table with a cup of coffee in his uninjured hand. He seemed just as surprised to see you as you were to see him, but he quickly covered it up with a neutral expression, leaning back in the chair and setting the cup down while he eyed you curiously.

“You’re up awful early for someone that’s gotta have a hell of a hangover.”

You didn’t know what to say to him. All you could manage was a timid apparition of a smile as you nodded and made your way towards the cabinets to grab yourself a mug. Even though your back was to him, you could practically feel his gaze boring into you as you loaded a pod into your coffee machine and pressed the button to brew. You couldn’t look at him after your revelation last night.

“How you feelin’?”

“Better than I deserve.”

Normally you were the one asking all the questions. You figured if you didn’t ask any, Frank would revert back to his normal state of being stoic and silent. But for some reason, he was the one with the questions today.

“You take somethin’? Gotta have a killer headache I reckon.”

Responding with a quiet hum, you continued to fix your coffee the way you liked, feeling suddenly lucky that the layout of your kitchen kept you from having to face him. You’d hoped your luck would continue and you’d be able to slip into your office without having to exchange another word, but it had apparently run out. You weren’t sure how you didn’t hear him getting up, but as you turned to place your spoon in the sink, he was right there in front of you staring down at you with narrowed eyes.

“You sure you’re feelin’ alright? You’re awful quiet this mornin’.”

Anxiety thundered loudly in your chest, and you found yourself having an extremely hard time maintaining eye contact with him. Why today, of all days, had he picked to be the chatty one?

“I’m sure.”

Frank squinted slightly at the smallness of your voice. The look in his eyes told you he didn’t believe you, and you did your best to appear nonchalant as you stepped around him to place your spoon in the sink with trembling fingers. For the first time since you’d met Frank, you wanted him to leave.

“You…um, you can go.”

“No I can’t.”

Frank’s voice was rough as it cut through your quiet kitchen. He almost sounded…aggravated? Stepping around his large figure again, you grabbed your coffee off the counter and continued to avoid making eye contact with him.

“It’s alright. I don’t plan on going anywhere today.”

“Doesn’t mean I can just leave-”

“I’m telling you that you can.”

Looking up at him was a huge mistake. His features were rigid as he stared you down, taking a step forward in your direction as he nodded his head towards you.

“You want me gone?”

Frank’s voice was monotone as it came out, but there was an edge to it that rang in your ears. You quickly shook your head as you held your cup to your chest, clasping your shaky fingers tightly around the ceramic. You had to make a case he couldn’t argue with.

“I was a huge pain in the ass last night. I put you in a shitty situation, and I got you hurt-”

“I told you I was fine, and to quit worryin’ ‘bout me-”

“Frank, please. I feel really bad about it, okay? Please just take the day off. I’m gonna be in my office all day anyway getting caught up. I really don’t plan on going anywhere. If I need you, I’ll call. I promise.”

A muscle in Frank’s jaw feathered as he clenched it, and you noticed the way his fists tightened slightly at his sides. You could almost see the internal dispute behind his dark eyes as they continued to stare you down. Blowing an irritated exhale out of his nose, he nodded his head curtly.

“Fine. But Russo’s gonna have someone posted outside as soon as I step out that door. That ain’t up for debate.”

You gave a slight nod of your head in response, knowing it was best not to argue with Frank right now, and not having the energy to anyway. He gave you one last hard look before stomping over towards the table to grab his cup, downing the rest of its contents and setting it in the sink before he was practically slamming your front door shut behind him.

True to his word, an all black sleek vehicle pulled up outside of your place not even five minutes later, and Frank was gone.

tags: @jwjeepers @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042

#frank castle #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher series

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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I need a 'tries really hard to be evil' scientist reader who works for a bunch of villains who know with their entire hearts that the scientist they hired is a total idiot but they love them so much they can't bring themselves to fire them, you can always catch them saying to each other " for someone who has a doctor title, they are quite an idiot" as they exchange videos of the reader being happy and jumping around bc they finally got their murder robot to work

(Couldn't really go with the whole "idiot" vibe - just a clumsy reader and their murderous employers)

You stumble into the front of the room, dropping important paperwork every other step and a remote soon after. Gaining your balance, you press the button on the remote that turns the projector on. Standing directly in front of the lens, you're blinding momentarily as its light shines in your eyes; quickly stepping out of the way. You clear your throat as you point to the machine on display.

"We'v finally completed production on our latest robot." You click another button. "As you can see through the use of these dummies, it is able to cut through the human body and most metals with ease. Most of the remaining information is in this folder, but due to some... unforeseen problems- I'm open to answering any questions."

"No, that will be all. Thank you, Y/n."

The room of stoic individuals praise you for your hard work with a round of applause. All except for one. Your excused shortly after, the villains left talking over the plans for the robot - however, their conversation seemed to solely center on you.

"I got a few pictures of them sleeping in the lab before the meeting. Poor thing needs to take better care of themself."

"They did better than last week - that's for sure. Would love to approve their vacation days, if they would just telling us where they were going."

"Has anyone gotten their new apartment bugged yet? They rejected the offer for that nice place nearby, so we don't have eyes on them currently."

"Excuse me..."

All heads turns towards the party in the room. A lacky who thought they had what it took to run with the heads of the group, only to find them fawning over some ditzy scientist.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but are they really our head scientist? The results are satisfactory, however it looks like they were born with two left feet. Maybe we should just let them be in charge of design.

The remainder of the group all look at each other; nodding in agreement on an unspoken decision.

"Moving on from that - we were just about to decide where to test the device first, but it seems we already have the perfect rat."

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere harem #yandere x y/n #yandere villain #yandere drabble #yandere x darling

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hopeidontgetaddictedtothis · 1 year

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Take a look at this pamphlet for the Cereal Convention:

You have over a hundred people coming from all over the place at the same time, and the convention is only a day long (August 12th)? That sounds inefficient. Even my department's niche grad student conference was held longer than that.

No kidding. Conference/convention fees are expensive, and I wouldn't pay all that money and travel all the way just so I can attend it for only a day. I guess a travel grant could alleviate the cost, but I doubt the organizers are charitable kind of people. Nor do they have that kind of budget.

And why are there so many sessions taking place at the same time? The organizers should know their attendees' interests may overlap. What if there's someone who wants to check out both the Woman's Work and Religion panel discussions?

A sensible conference would try to spread them out and diversify the events so that the attendees won't miss out that much when they attend others: They could have a poster session, speed networking, etc. in one room while another room has a panel session going on.

We do see people chilling in bars and walking around, but they're also missing out on at least THREE different panel discussions they paid for as a part of the fee.

The organizing committee even lost their guest of honour and were saved (?) at the last minute by slapping the Corinthian on their event. Maybe they should've hired people with more event planning experience under their belts rather than murdering.

P.S. At least they ensured the projectors are booked and they have access to light controls:

#neil gaiman #sandman #cereal convention #netflix #the sandman netflix #btw I just realized The Good Doctor is the ambassador's wife in The Good Omens #netflix the sandman #the sandman #the corinthian #thesandmanedit #sandmanedit #the collectors #dcedit #the doll's house #Jill Winternitz

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melbournepartyy · 5 months

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#projector hire in Melbourne

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audiovisualdirects · 1 year

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Projector hire south wales

#Projector hire south wales

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audiovisualbristol · 2 years

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Projector hire south wales

#Projector hire south wales

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gabessquishytum · 4 months

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Okay I know it's funny to think of Hob being the family bicycle, but what I think would be even funnier is a Euphoria style family meltdown in public when Dream finds out that when he and Hob went on a "break", which was just Dream self consciously breaking up with Hob bc he didn't want an uncool boyfriend, that Hob and Desire slept together and had a short fling. Then Dream came to his senses and essentially stole Hob back from his younger sibling. Which made Desire stew in their anger and jealousy.

Then it's graduation day, and Mama Endless has rented out the block for her precious baby's graduation. Dream was always her favorite so there are food trucks, a live band, and all the streamers you can throw up on a tree. It's Dream's party, but the guest of honor is missing.

Mostly bc he's getting his back blown out by Hob to celebrate Dream getting into the same elite school he did. Which Desire hears bc their rooms are right next to each other. So once the noise dies down and everyone joins the party, it's speech time.

Desire goes last. They give the same congratulations everyone else gave Dream, and thanks him for being such a kind older brother and sharing his boyfriend. Then they use the projector, which had been showing photos of Dream throughout the years and his many accomplishments, to show pictures of them being intimate and all the flirty texts they had shared together.

Which results in the siblings breaking into fisticuffs, Mama screaming about Hob defiling her boys, and Hob honestly wanting to kill himself. It's messy, it's emotional, and tbh will be a fun story to break out when they're 40.

- 🤜 anon

AJAJSHAHA this really did make me laugh. Hob you SLUT (affectionate). In a way I kind of feel bad for all of them. Dream because his boyfriend fucked his worst sibling. Hob because he was going through it and honestly thought Dream had broken up with him for good. And Desire because they will never again get to experience Hob in bed :((

The cat fight is broken up by Destruction, who is essentially holding both Dream and Desire by the scruff of their necks while Death scolds them. Hob is still getting yelled at by Mama Endless. She's asking him if he'd like to fuck any more of her children while he's at it?! And Hob accidentally takes a little bit too long to answer that question with a negative, and the whole fight erupts all over again.

(This whole thing is a field day for the random party suppliers who got hired to be there. Its the best day of their lives, seeing rich assholes in meltdown.)

Finally Dream and Hob get a moment to talk. Dream is sniffling and whimpering and he's like "who was better, me or Desire. your entire future depends on this question by the way." And Hob can honestly say that the answer is DREAM because they're in LOVE and of COURSE sex is better when you're in love!!!! And Dream forgives Hob, of course, but he's on thin fucking ice!!!! He'd better give Dream an absolutely stellar blowjob tonight!!!!

Mama Endless will never recover from finding out that her precious babies are no longer virgins. Despair takes her inside for wine and tranquillisers.

And Desire finds comfort in the arms of Unity, who was supplying the candy for the party. So all in all its not the worst Endless birthday party ever. With any luck Dream will cool off in a decade or two <3

#🤜 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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ratimz · 25 days

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a community comic about the "Laws of Robotics and Party Rights" episode without the ipads

transcript:

Warden: Dean Craig Pelton do you accept responsability for any damage incurred by hiring a felon?

Dean: I do

Warden: Willy siebert smith do you accept that the 13th amendment abolished slavery for everyone but convicts and that we have no choice but to pay you 13 cents per hour or less

Willy: I do

Warden: Then let us make official this symbolic-

Jeff: Hold it. Dean, I agree there's no reason you shouldn't give this guy my job

Dean: Save it jeffrey, I don't want to hear it

Jeff: But don't do it before I tell you some things that I've been getting away with not saying

Willy: Will somebody get this maniac

Warden: Quiet, Willy, let's do this by prison rules. Say what you have to say

Jeff: Dean. I like my job. I don't mind coming to work here. I feel kind of guilty when I pretend to be sick. And I try to steal as little as possible, just the basics - pens, coffee filters, toilet paper, and one time a overhead projector and a roll of carpet. But I don't lead you on, and I never will. Because I'm not just a pretty face that murders people and tells you what you want to hear. I'm less than that. I'm a gorgeous face that works for you and considers you a friend

Dean: Oh, Jeffrey

Warden: Now, to be fair, you guys know Willy is an innocent man, right?

Willy: You shut your mouth, warden!

Warden: No, it's true, his appeal is in motion, there's new dna evidence. He's a good fellow. wrongfully convicted

Dean: You're… not a murderer?

Willy: I can explain

Jeff: Hahaha, oh how the mighty have fallen

Willy: You son of a bitch!

Dean: Wait! Let's do this by community college rules

Students: Fight! Fight! Fight!

Dean: It's so violent

Jeff: Is this what you've got? Here's what I got. Come on! Let's do it