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In Your Web
part two - masterlist
nikolai x f!reader
cw: stalking, mention of alcohol, male masturbation MDNI
By all accounts, you need a return address to ship to Latvia.
Rather, you need a return address to ensure your package doesn't get opened by customs, where agents will laugh at best, or steal your panties at worst. Maybe even steal your DNA? To what end, anyway? No! Worse than that - what if they used their connections to trace the package back even without your address and -?
One is predictably unsympathetic.Â
» Then send it with one.
It doesn't surprise you that he thinks you're that dumb.Â
You toy with the idea of leaving a random address in the return spot and cringe when you imagine a surly Russian man accosting some random family four states over. It's a mental image you carry with you over the next week, playing it on repeat every time you get cut off in traffic, or you find a coworker has pissed on the toilet seat without cleaning it up. Once, you even catch yourself thinking of it when a particularly annoying regular dominates your feed during a regularly scheduled live performance.
But One is not your knight in shining fiber optic cable. Neither do you actually wish to inflict him on anyone.
So you send it without a return address, watch the shipping updates closely, and feel your stomach slowly boil when it sits for five business days at an importing station. Evidently, One watches it as well.
» You did not do as I asked.
He's uninterested in your offer to refund his money - half now, half later. All you can manage.
» If I wanted my money back I would simply cancel my subscription and request a chargeback from the service.
» I want what I purchased.
Talk of chargebacks makes you flighty. There are only two things you know about One, those being that he is very wealthy, and very rude. The bane of all customer service operators. You don't think it's likely the service would honor a reimbursement for a tip issued over a week ago, but it's not something you want to risk seeing as, unlike your plan to split his reimbursement, OnlyFans would reach into your bank account with the cold unfeeling hand of a multi-million dollar company and steal it back all at once, a prospect you simply can't afford at this time, as embarrassed as you are to admit. Long ago you'd made a promise to yourself that any and all large tips received from this side gig would go immediately toward paying off debts - student loans, ill advised credit cards you'd taken out while still living off said loans. It was a decision that had done you nothing but good up until this very moment, when his money was already spent and you were staring down the barrel of having to pay him back using your own funds.
Or, barring that, he could cancel his subscription and not only get a chargeback for the remainder of his pay period (probably the year, knowing him - you'd have to check) but you'd also stand to lose your best customer. One you're not entirely sure how you managed to land in the first place and one whose income you'd likely never manage to replace. Already, One's singlehandedly paid off an entire card for you, and until now he's showed no signs of stopping.
« i'll fix it
It's a bold promise to make when you have no recourse, but one you don't see your way out of making.
» No, I will.
—
For as much as the line had made you nervous at the time, One does not make any overt moves to follow up on it that you can see. Lapses into an uncharacteristic sort of radio silence for a time. He even skips the next few liveshows, something that strikes you as very unlike him. One does not seem the type of man to let a service he's already paid for go unused. The first night it's kind of nice, seeing as he has an annoying little habit of just paying the target price within the first ten minutes because he 'doesn't have time for this' (funny, how he always has enough time to request a private cam after) but then it's three shows later and you've barely raised anything because, apparently, all your other customers are used to sitting back and reaping the benefits of One's impatience. Something you'll have to address. He stays out of your DMs, too. Offers no tips in exchange for personal requests.
You'd be lying if you said it doesn't light a fire under your ass, gets you chatting with other creators searching for ideas on how you can fix the situation. People much smarter than you say to cut your losses and just refund him. Be done with it. But mostly it just leaves you with a large level of concern. You know these people aren't dumb, but you can't imagine the level of trust they've placed in some of their own favorite customers. Maybe it's because they're lucky enough to have attracted nice people, or at least people with enough social aptitude to know how to pretend to be nice. Something to be said for One, he's never once let you forget he's not the sort of man you should trust with your personal information.
Finally, inspiration strikes in the form of another stupid suggestion, one creator admitting they've put their work address in the return slot. They do not comment on whether or not they used their legal name, but given their stage name contains the word anal, you have to assume.
No desire to let One know where you work, or even the town you're from, you begin to think about other nameless faceless organizations you can use as a fall back instead, finally settling on a random Walmart two states over. You use your stage name and post it, sending One the new tracking number along with a free vid of you getting the replacement pair all messy in hopes that he returns immediately to his normal spending.
Of course, he doesn't so much as thank you. When another two pass with no contact, you begin to grow concerned. You triple check your account to make sure he hasn't unsubbed, but he's still right there at the top - even with no tips given in over a week.
He's disappeared for a few days in the past, but this is different. You think. Or maybe it's not. You wouldn't know seeing as you don't know him. Seeing as he's never given an excuse for his absences. Not that you'd ever asked… It's normal to be worried for someone you talk with nearly every day, right? You don't know him, sure, but you'd be a bit worried if your favorite barista from the shop you frequent just up and left one day. And your income doesn't even depend on her.
Perhaps that's why you break character when he finally resurfaces, the joy on your face when you see his handle pop into chat the next night genuine. Your giddiness is infectious, even. At least one other regular bothering to welcome him back when you stop your stream dead just to say hi. Foam falls around you, slips over your bare skin down to the tarp laid over the floor where already a good foot of it has accumulated like a blanket of snow. It was an idea you'd been quite proud of, always a fan of a simple dance party. The foam machine was a small expense given the high engagement you've received so far, your subscribers happy enough to watch you shake your ass while covered in soap bubbles and glow sticks. The machine had already paid for itself, but now that One was back, you couldn't help the building hope that you'd even meet your goal for the night, which could make for a pleasant weekend full of meeting friends for drinks.
"Glad to see you're alive. Was getting a little worried about you," you grin, settling back into your roll easily. You pinch your tits between your arms as you mime snapping on a pair of gloves. "Got thinking maybe it was time for a visit from your favorite nurse."
But One is not feeling very playful tonight, if he ever is.
» Check your phone.
You huff and kick some foam at the camera obnoxiously, pleased when it falls short and hits the TV it's mounted on top of instead. You don't need to kill the mood even further by stopping to clean your lens. You eye it now, pretend you're staring up at him defiantly when you refuse, tell him you're in the middle of something with one hand snaking down your belly. On the TV below, large enough you can read even from the middle of the floor, you watch the feed as they would see it: yourself on the left while the chat bubbles in excitement on the right, egging you on. You nod at them, a silent promise, check to make sure your position looks good and that you've got a smattering of foam on you, at least enough to keep some mystery for them to unravel as the show continues -
» Now.
Irritation doesn't sell well, but sometimes you can package it as chastisement. "Play nice," you caution, voice whistling through clenched teeth. It's not One's thing specifically, but there are other regulars who you know will eat it up. "Gotta learn to share."
But One goes above and beyond simply not liking being nagged at.
He waits until your fingers are just barely tracing your thatch of curls, movement from your laptop screen catching your eye. You drop pretenses entirely when a new window opens, your private chat with One maximized so you cannot possibly miss it. Carving a path through the accumulated foam, you slink out of the field of view of the mounted camera, show long forgotten as you approach your laptop, mounting fear confirmed as you watch your mouse move across the screen of it's own accord to hit play on the video he'd evidently sent you while you were otherwise occupied.
You know what it will be based on the thumbnail, but it shocks you anyway. The panties he holds look like nothing more than candy floss in his thick fist, wrapped around a fat cock so tightly the lace is stretched. Distorted. It's weird, the things you notice when adrenaline bends time. The camera work isn't great, doesn't let you see his the root of his cock or even his belly. Its focus shifts a few times, undecided if it wants to settle on the display before it or the dark hardwood below. He wears a watch, a simple leather band nestled in a pelt of dark hair. His knuckles are dusted too, hiding the glint of a thick gold band on his pinky. Uncut, thick. He grunts the next time his foreskin pulls back enough to reveal his glistening head and your breath stutters with his when the lace catches, synthetic fibers relaxing back into a recognizable pattern as he eases them off, untangles it from his grasp to flatten against the table, flimsy gusset laughably small framed between the thumb and forefinger of his free hand.
His native tongue spills from him like his seed, molten and thick. Language, even if you can't understand it, is enough to tug at you and you yelp, your brief moment of shock fracturing enough to compel you into movement.
Nik likes the way the suds paint her, the rainbow foam a nice contrast with her skin. It slides down the valleys of her body naturally, highlighting recesses he'd previously been unaware of. Pesky self consciousness, always framing herself so carefully to hide away the bits she think he won't like. They won't like, he supposes.
He's never minded sharing. Nature of the beast, paying for it. But he doesn't see why he should have to suffer the same experience as these others, not when he gives so much more.
It was one of the first issues that had lead him to this little perversion, the impersonal uniformity. The self-editing. He pays to see her body, not the careful curation of videos and stills which she deems tasteful enough. So he settles in behind the wrong camera most nights, his field of view lower. Off center. Only watches the proper stream - the one he actually pays for - when she looks dead at the camera to talk to him, ring light glowing eerily in her irises.
Close enough, for now.
He's logged into a burner account while he works himself up, watching as she bounces around her room to an obnoxious beat. Her audio mixing is off tonight, the club music she plays just a hair too loud. He likes to watch from alternate accounts sometimes, likes to see how well she fights her dismay when these other viewers struggle to collectively pay her bills. She's more likely to grant him special requests the longer he waits to show up, he's learned. Off the menu orders, she calls them. Cute, but not what he's looking for tonight.
Her thong hangs from the corner of his screen. He hates to have already ruined it, but consoles himself with the knowledge she'd been sweet enough to send him another pair. They won't smell as good, he's sure. Another censure she'll have placed on herself. None of the sweat from having been worn all day. But she tried. Wanted to please him. Desperate thing.
It's laughable, thinking Latvian customs would be able to stop him from acquiring what's his, but it's not like she would know that. It's why he prefers small, no-name performers like her. So unsuspecting. Passably genuine, smile growing on her face when he switches to his regular account, the one she has memorized. It makes his cock twitch, excitement growing when she showers him in attention, singles him out in the middle of her show. Forgets to keep dancing, even. As she should. He wonders if he paid for her new toy, the noisy machine currently leaving soap scum on her walls. Wonders if she'll let him pay for it again or if she'll have him summarily blocked within minutes. It won't matter, of course, but he's excited to see how she'll unfold. Another off-menu order. One more bridge too far.
What she gets, taking so much of his money yet never offering more. He just wants to see sides of her no one else has.
It's hard to control himself when she starts to get catty, shows her teeth. He'd imagined stretching this moment out a bit more, thoroughly ruining the mood for all other viewers. But when she looks right at her camera and tells him to behave, his breath goes ragged, and he has to let go of his cock to show the little bitch better - taking over her laptop to bring up the video he'd sent, a low grumble building in his chest like a warning when she slinks closer, as if proximity will give her a better understanding.
Three monitors, one for every angle of his omniscience. On the right, the chat in her official feed grows annoyed as she walks out of frame, a few of them even accusing him of foul play. Hero-types. He's going to enjoy watching them try to comfort her if she doesn't delete her account entirely after tonight - after he mouses over the video displayed on his middle screen, the mirror of her own laptop. On his left, she looms closer, expression open and honest in a way he's not seen it yet. Painted in the blue light of her monitor, it contrasts garishly with the heavy makeup she'd applied for the show, all warm-toned to match her pink neons; catches on the tiny pockets of popped soap bubbles which fleck over her cheek. It's not a good look, one she'd likely touch up before even taking a selfie for her Instagram account, a post-show teaser meant to make potential viewers feel like they'd missed out. And now that he's seen it, he knows how much he's been missing out, fist working over his cock with renewed vigor as he imagines all the ways he wants to see her now, all the ways he can, even if -
He fights the cursor when she tries to take control, but she's clever enough to know some keyboard commands. His right monitor blinks back to her profile when she cuts the feed, the middle one slowly returning to her home screen as she closes out of each window. She pulls away quickly after, palms clamped over her jaw as she breathes through the panic, soft belly caving with each pant. Foam still spews from the machine, dye having run out. It catches in her hair, paints her skin milky. He has half a mind to open a word doc on her computer, tell her she should skip the dye next time, the white more suggestive.
Doesn't get a chance. Cums when she scrambles back to the desk, his left monitor dropping the feed when she smartens up and rips the battery out of her laptop.
Left languid and lazy, he tracks her movements across her socials from his bed, thumbing through his phone. Detached, he watches her accounts blink out one after the other. A small city going dark under the approach of his hele. She deletes some outright, settles for blocking him on others. Even issues an apology to her viewers from a site she doesn't know he even has an account on. It's vague, boring. Doesn't mention him. He gets an email around midnight, her time, telling him to expect a refund for the remaining term of his payment, but is pleased to find her account still in place when he checks from a burner. The save of her live show is taken down shortly after, but he's not worried. Had it saved locally.
Can't rely on strangers from the Internet to behave, after all
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in boring adult annoyances, i recently converted my checking account to a different type of checking account with the same credit union. i've done this a couple times over the years cuz it's the same checking account my dad helped me set up when i was 13 and this CU is still my primary financial institution. asked the banker
"will my account number remain the same?"
"yes, we're just converting it to a different type of the same account!"
"so my direct deposit and autopays won't be impacted?"
"correct!"
"and i can still use the same debit card i've been using for the last ~6 years!"
"absolutely!"
"great, let's do it."
fast forward to this week, when three of my autopay bills bounced, my debit card isn't working, and a closer look at my account number shows a 1-digit change at the end. go back to the same branch like "hey no offense but what the fuck??"
different banker takes a look at my accounts, makes a Face, and politely casually asks "so where did you go to make the switch? :)"
"here, this branch. that person over there was actually the one who helped me."
The Face intensifies. ".....Ah. I See. well, it looks like the way the changes were made may have Disrupted some things. you're gonna need a new debit card, etc, i'll get that printed for you ASAP."
[5 minutes later the banker who fucked up the first transaction sheepishly approaches me to hand over my new debit card & apologize profusely.]
#SIXTEEN YEARS OF AUTOPAYS & DIRECT DEPOSITS & STATEMENTS & SAVED PAYMENT PROFILES DOWN THE FUUUUUUCKING DRAIN#BC INSTEAD OF JUST SWITCHING THE SUBTYPE OF MY EXISTING ACCOUNT SHE FUCKING CLOSED IT OPENED A NEW ONE & JUST MOVED THE MONEY OVER#LIKE I'VE DONE HER JOB I KNOW HOW EASY IT IS TO MAKE MISTAKES LIKE THAT BUT GOOOOOODDDDDD WHAT A FUCKING PAIN#THIS STUPID ERROR HAS BROKEN. SO MUCH OF MY LIFE IN ONE FELL SWOOP#GIRL I'M NOT GONNA COMPLAIN TO YOUR MANAGER OR ANYTHING BUT I *AM* FANTASIZING ABOUT HUNTING YOU FOR SPORT#between this and a different banker at the same branch taking 2+ weeks to get back to me with a shit tier auto loan quote#the service here has rly gone to piss lately#like thanks but i bought my car last week & financed thru the dealership for 4.3% APR less than you quoted cuz you ghosted me#shit chat#ctxt#charlie vs money
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I just got home...I can't say I ever expected to receive a comment from the verified Microsoft Store account on my dbd fanart. It's a pleasant surprise, though!
#dbd#thoughts about media#Thank you microsoft store social media account manager(s)#I'm honestly not certain if dbd is available on your service but it probably is#I'm glad you guys like hux. we should all like hux.
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can i have a straw please?
You… anonymously… sent this message… at 05:24 in the morning. After clearly being aware of my working three different positions by myself, on my feet, for 18 hours.
How. The. FUCK. Was I supposed to give you a fucking straw.
If I had less dignity and more savings, this would make me quit.
No,
— L. Garte
#no#stop#i hate it here#fuck you#ask blog#disco elysium#disco elysium fandom#disco elysium rp#lawrence garte#whirling in rags#disco elysium shitpost#de#rp account#askgarteblog#martinaise#jamrock#revachol#garte the cafeteria manager#customer service#food service
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Debt2Dreams
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SellingOS is your one-stop solution to get you there! 🚀
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HRsoftBD offers Online Store Management Software
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www.HRsoftBD.com offers OMR Service for MCQ Exam
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HRsoftBD offer Bluk SMS
#mobile app design bd#mobile app development bd#accounting software bd#accounting software development bd#advocate dairy management bd#website desing bd#website development bd#omr solution bd#omr development bd#Courier service management software bd#doamin and hosting bd#bulk sms bd#prescription software bd#e-commerce solution bd#online education system bd#spa management software bd#parlor management software bd#ballot counting software bd#dairy farm software bd#shop management software bd#invoice software development bd#salon management software bd#ERP solution bd#vehicle manageent bd#hrsoftbd
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I’m so excited I’m like literally shaking
#so I work at like seasonal job multiple stores and shit some more far out and in the boonies than others#and like before I was at my current job I managed this shitshow camp store#literally was so horrible but only bcs my boss sucked and pushed all his responsibilities to me while I still had to do MY JOB#like darkest time of my life trying to keep that store from falling apart until eventually I was like fuck this#transferee to a different property in a different state and like stalked this lady who would come help us and she hired me as her assistant#like truly amazing I love her so much my boss is the fucking best#but now at my property we have a camp store with no manager being run to the ground#so they asked me to go manage it…#and lLIKEEEE ITS IN THE HIGH CIUNTRY#SOOO NO SERVICE LIVING IN A TENT SHARED SHOWER DORMS#IM SO EXCITEDDD#and also I’ll be at 9k feet elevation SO ILL SEE STARSS!#im at 5thoussnd feet rn and it’s just not the same#my shitty store was at 7 thousand but the year before I lived at 8 thousand feet and the stars are so magical#but everyone else I work with feels bad I ‘have to’ go up there and run the store for a few weeks#I’m like literally MY PLEASURE#working in a camp store is literally summer camp vibes#and I’m such a retail girl boss they didn’t even brief me they were like you know how to open and close a store#AND I DONT HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF INVOICESSS#that was my nightmare at the last place like they taught all the managers how to recieve and pay invoices but no one else really understood#sooo like a day before months end when invocies HAVE to be paid I’d get stacks from every store on property#and like just my store was already a lot to go through bcs we did groceries and gas and beer and retail merch#but lol I came to my current place and they have a whole office just for that lotta sweet lady’s in accounting I’m like damn??#they did me so dirty????#best part about being a warehouse girl with previous retail management experience is thissss#pray for me though I haven’t managed other humans in 2 years and they’re union employees so I just have to follow all the rules#love the union but I’m scared of breaking any labor laws since I’ve never managed humans in the state in living in#last state was horrible there was no lunch break laws
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Subsidiary Company Registration in India
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they should invent a prescription that you can actually access
#:)#meds run out this weekend but the hospital set it up to be renewed via the nhs app#which i cannot access on account of not having any id#AND my gp is so underfunded it only operates until noon and doesn't have the resources to manage anything other than appointments#so i can't even phone them to ask about my prescription because they do Not have the resources to deal with it#there's MAYBE this weird third party service that might handle it but it has a seven working day response time#and i have five real days worth of meds left#fucked up part is i was *supposed* to be contacted by my gp either last week or this week specifically about long term care management#but all this promised communication never happened so i guess i just have to deal lol
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I knew the second I stepped outside and saw a pool under my car, I was going to have the weirdest day
#vent#negative#corporation I work for pulled 646 dollars out of my account for enrolling me in a service I did not opt into#so I'm fucked until it's canceled and refunded#and my store manager is out until the 7th so I have to go district level to get approval#on the service I got approved!!! in January!!!!!#SCREAMS#pray or cheer for me or whatever#I'm gonna make a new insert for md because Nori would eat them for doing this to me
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