#verify identification

[notaryunlimited]

What to Expect When Utilizing a Notary Public

When it comes to legal documents, ensuring their authenticity and validity is crucial. This is where a notary public plays a vital role. A notary public is a licensed professional who acts as an impartial witness and official verifier for various legal transactions. So, what can you expect when using a notary public? Let’s take a closer look. Authentication and Verification One of the primary…

[miiscreants]

Honestly if you’re going to support a lair please block me. I will not back down on my friend.

[caesthoffe]

One of our siblings was murdered recently, and you need to know about it.

TW // transphobia and violence against trans people

Brianna Ghey was a 16-year-old trans girl from Warrington, England. On Saturday, February 11th 2023, Brianna was found dead on the side of a park with multiple stab wounds. Two 15-year-olds have been taken into custody in connection with her murder.

People in the Warrington area have alleged that Brianna was being bullied in school, and that neither the administration nor the police did anything.

Despite this, local police have said there is no evidence that the attack was hate-based and most news articles don't mention her status as a trans woman. This is deliberate. This is genocide by the hands of transphobes and TERFs.

Britain does not have gender self-identification (your legal gender being determined by how you identify and not any arbitrary medical requirements), meaning even in her death she will be deadnamed and misgendered on her death certificate.

She deserved so much better.

Mourn the dead, and fight like hell for the living.

EDIT: A verified GoFundMe has been set up for Brianna.

[be-a-cute-scientist]

why is activating a prepaid sim card in germany such a fucking ballache

[rebeccathenaturalist]

ETA: I wrote up a guide on clues that a foraging book was written by AI here!

[Original Tweet source here.]

[RANT AHEAD]

Okay, yeah. This is a very, very, very bad idea. I understand that there is a certain flavor of techbro who has ABSOLUTELY zero problem with this because "AI is the future, bro", and we're supposed to be reading their articles on how to use AI for side hustles and all that.

I get that ID apps have played into people's tendency to want quick and easy answers to everything (I'm not totally opposed to apps, but please read about how an app does not a Master Naturalist make.) But nature identification is serious stuff, ESPECIALLY when you are trying to identify whether something is safe to eat, handle, etc. You have to be absolutely, completely, 100000% sure of your ID, and then you ALSO have to absolutely verify that it is safely handled and consumed by humans.

As a foraging instructor, I cannot emphasize this enough. My classes, which are intended for a general audience, are very heavy on identification skills for this very reason. I have had (a small subsection of) students complain that I wasn't just spending 2-3 hours listing off bunches of edible plants and fungi, and honestly? They can complain all they want. I am doing MY due diligence to make very sure that the people who take my classes are prepared to go out and start identifying species and then figure out their edibility or lack thereof.

Because it isn't enough to be able to say "Oh, that's a dandelion, and I think this might be an oyster mushroom." It's also not enough to say "Well, such-and-such app says this is Queen Anne's lace and not poison hemlock." You HAVE to have incredibly keen observational skills. You HAVE to be patient enough to take thorough observations and run them through multiple forms of verification (field guides, websites, apps, other foragers/naturalists) to make sure you have a rock-solid identification. And then you ALSO have to be willing to read through multiple sources (NOT just Wikipedia) to determine whether that species is safely consumed by humans, and if so if it needs to be prepared in a particular way or if there are inedible/toxic parts that need to be removed.

AND--this phenomenon of AI-generated crapola emphasizes the fact that in addition to all of the above, you HAVE to have critical thinking skills when it comes to assessing your sources. Just because something is printed on a page doesn't mean it's true. You need to look at the quality of the information being presented. You need to look at the author's sources. You need to compare what this person is saying to other books and resources out there, and make sure there's a consensus.

You also need to look at the author themselves and make absolutely sure they are a real person. Find their website. Find their bio. Find their social media. Find any other manners in which they interact with the world, ESPECIALLY outside of the internet. Contact them. Ask questions. Don't be a jerk about it, because we're just people, but do at least make sure that a book you're interested in buying is by a real person. I guarantee you those of us who are serious about teaching this stuff and who are internet-savvy are going to make it very easy to find who we are (within reason), what we're doing, and why.

Because the OP in that Tweet is absolutely right--people are going to get seriously ill or dead if they try using AI-generated field guides. We have such a wealth of information, both on paper/pixels and in the brains of active, experienced foragers, that we can easily learn from the mistakes of people in the past who got poisoned, and avoid their fate. But it does mean that you MUST have the will and ability to be impeccably thorough in your research--and when in doubt, throw it out.

My inbox is always open. I'm easier caught via email than here, but I will answer. You can always ask me stuff about foraging, about nature identification, etc. And if there's a foraging instructor/author/etc. with a website, chances are they're also going to be more than willing to answer questions. I am happy to direct you to online groups on Facebook and elsewhere where you have a whole slew of people to compare notes with. I want people's foraging to be SAFE and FUN. And AI-generated books aren't the way to make that happen.

[thebibliosphere]

Hey, fellow Patreon users, just in case you haven't been checking your emails, Patreon is now enforcing the new rule that all NSFW content creators must verify their age via some form of photo or government identification. This is to comply with Mastercard's "new" regulations concerning adult content or content that depicts nudity.

(There is a verification process available for those who do not have government IDs. Though I do not personally know what it is because I didn't have to go through it.)

The email I just got informed me that if I didn't do it soon, they would put a freeze on my earnings. I was able to complete the process in less than five minutes via my phone and by taking pictures when prompted. My verification was then approved ten minutes later.

If you are like me and were flagged as posting adult content but do not currently have any NSFW content on your page, the above link will also give you the means to have your account classification appealed.

If you are an adult content creator who is not currently flagged as such, whether you post modeling pics, art, or written word (yes, they are apparently including written smut in this, same as ko-fi and PayPal, that's why I'm flagged), it is probably in your interest to become verified so as to avoid any possible termination or loss of funds.

I know when my account first got flagged (thanks to a bunch of TERFs trying to cut off my income), my payouts were frozen for several months while Patreon investigated my content.

In the end, they unfroze my money but still left me with the Adult Content Creator flare (meaning I cannot be promoted on the main page or found through searching, apparently) because I had in the past used Patreon to post distribution links to my Flirting with Fangs edition of Hunger Pangs for patrons who had backed the book on there.

Anyway. Don't be like me and almost lose your next month's income because you almost didn't check your email. That would be bad.

[sayruq]

Hi,

Can you help me share and verify my campaign?

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-me-and-my-little-family-to-survive

I need to save my 83 years old disabled grandmother,

My niece, who is just three months old and the rest of my family , THEY ARE ALL SICK

I can provide any Identification or verification We are very low on funds ..

I also posted a post on my tumblr if it helps ..

Please help us ,Thank you so much! I'm soo sorry to bother

Please help this family out.

Samah's elderly mother has a broken pelvis and other health complications like heart muscle weakness. She needs to be evacuated and receive immediate treatment

Samah's daughter, son in law and 3 month old granddaughter also need evacuation

Please donate. Boost if you can't. Let's do our part to help Palestinians suffering in Gaza

[augustinewrites]

artem.wing requested to follow you!

when you pull out your phone, you have to check the notification twice to make sure you’ve read it correctly. you even go so far as to tap it, watching curiously as your phone opens pax’s newest social media app.

this couldn’t possibly be your artem wing. your fellow senior partner at themis artem wing, who once called social media positively mind-numbing. 

but it is artem, a cursory glance at the profile picture confirms. not only is the picture he uses the exact same as his identification badge, but his account is already verified — no doubt due to his association with marius von hagen. 

you purse your lips in an attempt to stifle your laughter as you stalk study the rest of his profile. 

Artem Wing Senior Attorney at Themis Law Firm artemwing@themismail.co (serious inquiries only)

it’s professional and clean, with all the aspects of an account made for business purposes. was this the firm’s latest marketing strategy? you really must have zoned out during the last staff meeting. 

smiling, you accept his follow request and send one back just as celestine returns from the restroom.

“who has you smiling at your phone like that?” she asks, taking a sip of her iced tea. “is it your secret boyfriend again? when are you going to let me meet him?”

you take a bite of your salad, shrugging. “i told you, he’s shy.” 

she sets her glass down, resting her elbows on the table. “yeah, but you’re always gushing about how sweet he is! you said he was a lawyer, right? is it howard syter? from baldr?”

last week, you’d let it slip that your secret boyfriend was also a lawyer. since then celestine and kiki had been hurtling name after name at you, trying to guess his identity. 

it’s not like you wanted to keep his identity a secret forever. it was just that the two of you were happy in this little bubble of yours. the gentle, intimate mornings spent swaying in each other’s embrace to his morning coffee playlist. the private date nights at his apartment that are spent cooking dinner together. 

“ah,” celestine giggles. “you’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

you try and fail to fight the heat crawling up your neck, thankful when your phone chimes with a notification in your bag. 

“it might be about my civil suit,” you tell her, eager for the distraction. 

you dig your phone out of your bag, checking the notification. 

artem.wing tagged you in a post

your heart skips a beat, and you hesitate before tapping the notification.

_____

artem looks up when his office door is thrown open. he’s glad to see that it’s you, even if you’re wearing that look on your face, the one you put on when you’re crossing a witness in court.

“mr. wing,” you greet tersely. “do you have a moment?”

he rises from his seat and buttons his suit jacket, smiling. “for you, always.”

“oh, stop being cute,” you mutter. “why did you tag me in your thirst trap?”

“thirst trap?” he echoes, genuinely confused.

“artem,” you whisper harshly. “you posted a shirtless picture of yourself at the gym and tagged me in it! now everyone will know that we’re dating!”

“but my account is on private,” he frowns. “and i only tagged you…”

“everyone you let follow your account can see that picture!” you explain. “that includes celestine, jeremy, kiki, rosa, luke, dr. richter, marius—”

this is the last time he’ll ever let marius von hagen peer pressure him into anything. 

“so…you didn’t like the photo?” he asks, rounding his desk to stand in front of you. he seems entirely unfazed by this ideal, despite the fact that everyone on his follow list has now seen his abs.

you seem taken aback by his question, avoiding his gaze. “i didn’t say that…”

you both startle when celestine pounds on the glass wall of his office, holding up her phone. 

“i knew it!” she shouts through the glass. her shouting draws the attention of kiki, rosa, and just about every other employee in the firm. 

you’re absolutely mortified, but artem simply takes your hand, pressing a kiss to the backs of your fingers before pulling you in to wrap his arms around you. 

you don’t fight him, simply sighing deeply and hiding your face in his chest as celestine cheers loudly. 

“i’m sorry, love,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “next time i’ll send my ‘thirst traps’ directly to you via text.”

“you owe me,” you mutter, but you’re smiling as he presses a kiss to the side of your neck, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. 

“i suppose now we have to take that very romantic walk down to hr.”

_____

themariusvonhagen: ARTEM???? 

themariusvonhagen: DAMNNNNNN 🔥🔥🔥🔥

celestinetaylor: @ themislawfirm please please please repost this on our story for the free advertisement

[coochiequeens]

A TIM couldn't accept that his wife was not going to go along with his delusion and turned to the family annihilator route, a route associated with violent narcissistic men.

By Nuria Muíña García July 11, 2024

A man in Spain is alleged to have poisoned his wife and child in the midst of divorce proceedings following his declaration of a transgender identity. The court has now imposed a restraining order on the man, who has not been named, while the police investigation is ongoing.

According to Diario de Sevilla, the couple were engaged in divorce proceedings but were still sharing a home in Dos Hermanas when the suspected poisoning took place. While it has not been definitively confirmed, the motive for the divorce appears to have been the man’s decision to identify as a “woman.”

Shortly after choosing to split, the woman, whose identity has also been kept anonymous, began experiencing severe and sudden-onset stomach pain. She sought medical care and was told she was exhibiting symptoms of chemical consumption. Police quickly became involved, and an investigation was launched into what was then identified as a suspected poisoning.

Disturbingly, the couple’s 5-year-old son may have also been the victim of an attempted poisoning by his father. Medical tests are being conducted in order to verify whether he had been targeted as well.

Prosecutors speculated that the woman was poisoned by her husband using household pool care products that were mixed into her food. In response to the hypothesis, the court issued a warrant of entry to the couple’s home to gather evidence.

Yesterday, a Dos Hermanas court responsible for prosecuting violence against women heard statements from both the husband and wife, after which it decided to place a restraining order on the man. He is now required to stay 300 meters away from his wife, and has been denied contact to his son.

At the time of this writing, no arrests have been made, but police investigations are ongoing.

The case has sparked particular concern amongst Spanish women’s rights advocates, as they have noted that Spain’s exceptionally strict gender identity laws mean that, if prosecuted, the man will be treated as a “female” by the courts.

Further, crimes marked as “gender-based violence” in Spain result in female victims being provided with specific legal protections and resources to assist them in the aftermath of the crime. These resources may include assistance with divorce proceedings, child custody, and housing arrangements.

If the man’s legal gender marker change was completed before the poisoning took place, it would mean that the victim would have no access to these resources because her aggressor was a “woman.”

“Gender-based violence” is also considered an aggravating factor in violent crimes, and may result in a harsher sentencing.

The situation has lead some women’s rights advocates to speculate that the man had planned to murder his wife, but that he had changed his legal gender marker just before doing so to avoid “gender-based violence” being used as an aggravating factor in the event he was caught.

If the man is prosecuted, this would not be the first time in Spain that a male accused of domestic violence against his female partner was prosecuted as a “woman.”

As previously reported by Reduxx, a man in Catalonia who beat his female partner for opposing his transition avoided charges of gender-based violence by legally changing his identification to “female” and adopting a woman’s name just prior to being prosecuted.

The couple, who were in their 60s, had been together for 11 years, but after the man began expressing an interest in crossdressing, the woman asked to break off their intimate relationship. He became violent towards her, and began sexually and physically abusing her in retaliation for her refusal to participate in his fetish.

After seeking help with the police, the woman discovered he had already changed his legal sex marker, and thus she would not be provided any protections for female victims of male crime.

At the time, Reduxx spoke with Núria González López, the legal advisor for the victim, who explained that “the abuser’s change of his legal sex means that, in the eyes of the law, the female in the situation is not at risk. This means the victim has fewer rights.”

In February of 2023, the Spanish government enacted what is colloquially known as the “Trans Law,” which instituted a “no questions asked” policy for those who declared they were transgender. The law also made it significantly easier for individuals to change their name and legal sex, hastening the process for applicants and removing any medical requirements.

Since the institution of the law, Spain has seen concerns right about the rise in “trans fraud,” in which males change their legal sex marker simply to gain legal or professional benefits.

In Ceuta, an extremely small Spanish autonomous city located in the North African coast, 37 male civil servants are known to have changed their registered sex in order to obtain benefits assigned to women.

Most of the men are members of the Army, the National Police, the Civil Guard, or the Local Police of the city. The men all share a pattern in that they change their legal sex marker while keeping their “male” name.

What Motivates Family Annihilators?

Angry over the family breakup

A need for power

Suffering from a personality disorder

Unable to cope with personal failure

See whole article

[patricia-taxxon]

After watching your most recent video, I've had some old potentially-therian/otherkin feelings reawakened in me, and I've felt a bit more validated in them (along with some potential multiple-selves feelings, but those aren't as relevant right now). But with them have also returned a lot of anxieties about whether they're "real" feelings of being an animal (specifically a raccoon), or if they're... I don't know, something else that I'm misinterpreting. This might be an extremely stupid question, but I was wondering if you had any advice about how to determine to what extent I not-human and verify my feelings, or barring that, how to shut those anxieties the fuck up, just embrace this identity, and be okay with it?

If you're skeptical and want to take a more secular approach to otherkin/plural identity, think of it like an artistic lens you use to view yourself. You're a raccoon because you can apply a folkloric raccoon lens to your identity and behavior & it makes sense as a story. Like guys who look at the joker and say "he's literally me," they're correct in a way, aren't they? What do we gain from separating that kind of strong identification from notions of being? Maybe you just like applying a raccoon metaphor to your life, maybe you just want to name a part of you and give them a voice in your head. Feeling these things secularly and feeling them spiritually, not very different.

[navybrat817]

Negotiations

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You meet with Andy to discuss the terms of your potential contract. Word Count: Over 4.2k Warnings: Slow burn, reader is broke (is that a warning?), sugar daddy offer, tension, slight insecurities, negotiations, inner monologue, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Header - yours truly A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thanks!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Work felt like the longest shift even though it was only a few hours. You saw the customers through a different set of eyes as you served them. You wondered how many of them struggled like you or what they would do if someone like Andy entered their lives. If you came to an agreement with him on everything, you weren't sure if you'd ever step foot in the diner again after you quit. Not because you were embarrassed.

It was merely time to look forward.

And look my best.

You turned to the side when you checked your reflection. Estelle had way too much fun picking out an outfit for you. After carefully searching and sneakily looking at the price tag so she didn’t splurge, you opted for a sleeveless, blazer style dress. Nothing over the top or too fancy. You still wanted to look like you while looking professional.

Though she insisted it was your birthday gift, along with the surprisingly comfortable black heels, you planned to pay her back. Whether from the money Andy gave you or once you got your paycheck months from now at your new job. If she refused, you’d tell her the only gift you needed was her support and she gave that to you. Like she knew you were thinking about it, she messaged you.

“Good luck! I know you look hot! Knock his socks and pants off! He better give you everything you deserve!”

You had to smile at her enthusiasm. “It’s his office. His pants are staying on.”

“You say that now, but he’s the boss. You’ll change your tune once he has his hands on you.”

Laughing as you tucked your phone away, you couldn’t completely disagree with her. Andy robbed you of your breath whenever you saw him and it surprised you that you could maintain logical thinking when he was close by. You had to maintain that rational headspace today. He was a man used to people telling him what he wanted to hear. As an ex-lawyer and businessman, he could sway things in his favor if you weren’t careful.

Considering what he was offering you, it didn’t once feel like he was taking advantage of your misfortunes.

You stopped yourself from messaging Andy that you were on your way. He was a busy man with more important stuff to deal with than a check-in from you. It would be one of the topics of discussion shortly anyhow. Would he want to know where you are at all times or would he be content with the occasional message?

How much control will he want over me? How much do I want to give him?

Thanking and paying the cab driver as you arrived at the building, you didn't feel as out of your element the way you did at the restaurant. The office setting was familiar. It was bittersweet going inside though for something that wasn't work or an interview. Maybe this was better.

You held your head high as if it was.

I can do this.

You handed your bag over for the security officer to check while he verified your identification. Satisfied once he double checked your name and ID, he handed you a guest badge and allowed you to go to the elevators. It comforted you that Andy and his employees were safe when they went into his building. You wondered how often you'd be here or if he'd keep you away from his office outside of functions.

You avoided looking at anyone as you got into the elevator, though you felt the eyes of a couple of men sweep over your body. It didn’t matter what they thought. Andy was the only one you wanted to look good for. As you passed by each floor, the more you worried about breaking into a sweat. You shifted back and forth until the door opened.

One step closer.

It took you a second to move your feet forward and turn down the hall. It seemed to stretch on for miles, the door at the end of it was large and daunting. It was like entering the lion’s den, but you weren't afraid. Even if you did pause again before you turned the handle and walked in.

An older woman, Irene according to the nameplate on her desk, sat outside of a set of double doors, giving you a kind smile as she looked up from her keyboard. You didn't let her appearance fool you. Anyone who worked for someone as powerful as Andy likely had thick skin and a "take no crap" attitude.

"How may I help you?"

"Hi. I'm here to see Andy Barber," you replied, giving her your name and inwardly wincing. Of course, she knew you were there to see him. Why else would you be there?

"Yes, Mr. Barber is expecting you," she smiled, pressing the intercom on her desk. "Mr. Barber, your 4pm is here."

"Send her in, please."

It isn't fair that he sounds sexy through a speaker box.

"May I get you anything to drink?" she asked.

"No, thank you," you smiled, following her as she opened the double doors.

This is it.

The office was just as you imagined, the walls lined with a mixture of art and accolades. A small table and chairs sat on one side with a couch on the other. It was elegant, but the man behind the desk drew your attention. Sunlight filtered in through the floor to ceiling windows behind Andy, casting a halo around him as he stood up. A symbol of power and authority in his black suit with the skyline behind him, you found it difficult to take your next breath.

He looks like he was born to be in charge.

"It's good to see you again," Andy smiled, walking around the desk and gesturing to the table. "Why don't we sit over here? Did Irene offer you a drink?"

"Of course, I did, Mr. Barber. And before you remind me, I know to hold your calls," she chastised him, which only made him chuckle before she smiled at you. "I'll be just outside if you need anything."

I knew it. Take no crap.

"Thank you," you said, giggling as you walked to the table. "I like her."

"I do, too. She keeps me on my toes," he said as he pulled out the chair for you. "How was your day?"

"Uneventful," you replied, setting your bag beside you. It was nice that he asked. "How are you?"

"My day was just fine," he said, taking a seat. He had a notepad waiting there, similar to yours.

"That's good."

He gave you a half smile and you debated whether or not to continue with small talk. "Nervous?"

“A little bit,” you said, refusing to lie to him. It wouldn’t start things off on the right foot if you did. “I didn’t have ‘Sugar Daddy Negotiations’ on my BINGO card this year.”

He chuckled, the sound beautiful in the large space. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t either," he joked. "And you don’t look nervous.”

“It actually does,” you smiled. “How do I look?”

“You look beautiful.”

“Oh,” you said, your cheeks growing warmer the longer he gazed at you. While you wanted that to be his reaction, it was somehow unexpected. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, by the way.”

“And I wasn’t taking the bait. I’m telling you what I see.”

“Thank you. This was a birthday gift from Estelle,” you said, smoothing out the dress even though you were sitting. Why you felt the need to tell him, you weren’t sure.

“It’s a beautiful dress, but I was talking about your smile,” he said, his lip tugging in a small smile of his own before he cleared his throat. “As much as I’d like to sit here and continue to shower you with praise, maybe we should save that for another time.”

Your throat went dry at the implication, but you didn't want to get ahead of yourself. “Of course."

"Today is about figuring out our terms and setting expectations. I plan to take notes as we go along, if you don't mind."

"That's fine because I plan to do the same," you explained as you took out your notepad. "I’ve made a list of things I believe we should discuss and agree on before moving forward."

“You’re prepared,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "And getting down to business like last time."

“I do what I can,” you said, glancing at the first item on your list. “First thing is the length of our contract. You mentioned Mr. Huffman’s merger could take a few months, but there’s no definitive timeframe. My proposal is six months or when the job becomes available, whichever comes sooner.”

He considered your words carefully. “I spoke with Scott again and a merger like this may take a minimum of six months due to the range of variables. I propose a year or when the job becomes available. It hopefully won’t take that long, but I’d feel more comfortable if we have more time as opposed to less.”

A year was a long time, but you understood his perspective. “Why don’t we meet in the middle? Nine months.”

“Nine months, but if the merger is still pending at that time, we can revisit the contract and extend it if needed,” he proposed.

“Agreed,” you said, jotting down your notes on your pad while he did the same. “My job. You said I would need to quit and I’d be unable to take another position while under contract. I have no objections to that, but I won’t flat-out quit the diner. I’ll put in my two week notice. If they tell me not to come back, that’s on them.”

“I think that’s the respectable thing to do,” he said, nodding to your pad. “I don’t know where living arrangements are on your list, but I’d like to discuss that next.”

You wanted to discuss your free time since you wouldn't have a job any longer, but you would circle back to that. “Okay. You said over lunch that you’re not comfortable with me staying in my current place.”

“I did and I stand by that. I understand that my building doesn’t guarantee complete safety over yours because anything could happen anywhere at any time, but knowing you’re close by would help put me at ease. I have a loft ready to go and you can treat it as your own place. If something isn’t to your liking, we can change it within reason.”

“Within reason?”

Andy smirked slightly. “I can’t exactly take a sledgehammer to the wall if you want to make the space bigger,” he said, taking out his phone and pulling up an image. “But it’s a nice place. Feel free to swipe through it.”

The photos were beautiful and the living room alone looked larger than your entire apartment. “Is spending time at your place an expectation?” you asked.

“I’d like it if you did for an occasional dinner, but I understand if you'd rather not. I'd also like to meet you once a month outside of contractual obligations to talk.”

Sounds like a date. Is it though?

“I agree to the loft, the occasional dinner, and meeting with you once a month," you agreed. It wasn't overwhelming or demanding. You'd still have a sense of independence. "But I’d like to keep my current apartment. If I take this job in the upcoming months, I can't expect you to cover the loft anymore and I doubt I could afford it even with a decent salary. I’ll need a place to go back to until I find something better.”

"I own it," he said. He wasn't bragging in your mind. He was stating a fact.

"I doubt I could afford your rent then. I keep my apartment."

“Done,” he said after a moment. You were glad he agreed. Your apartment was still yours. “Which is a good segway into expenses. As a reminder, I plan to cover the rent for your current apartment, along with any bills associated with it such as cable or internet. If you prefer to shut those off during the contract, we can. I’ll also cover your cell phone, insurance, credit card bills, student loans, any debt you pay on a monthly basis. Oh, and groceries.”

Tears filled your eyes as he opened his mouth to continue. The more you tried to compose yourself, the more your face scrunched up. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. You hadn't expected to get emotional, but actually hearing him say he’d cover your monthly bills and help you stay on top of everything was unreal. You'd sleep better at night knowing you had nothing to worry about.

I probably look ridiculous.

“Don’t be,” he said gently, handing you his handkerchief so you could dab your eyes.

“I’m just,” you stopped to take a breath. It was okay to be vulnerable. That was part of communicating. “I’ve carried this stress on my shoulders and knowing that you’re going to take some of that weight away is… I’m never going to be able to repay you for that or thank you enough.”

“I don’t expect a monetary repayment nor would I want that. I told you, honey. You're an honest and kind person. Your company is going to be more than enough.”

He sounds too good to be true.

“You say that now, but you'll grow tired of me,” you teased, holding out your hand to give him the handkerchief. “Thank you.”

He shook his head and refused to take it back. “Keep it. And considering I offered a year for this, I know I won't grow tired of your company,” he said, a bit of concern in his eyes as you sniffled. “Are you okay to continue? We can take a break.”

“I'm fine,” you promised, straightening up and feeling lighter, like the weight was already gone. “We were discussing expenses.”

“Yes,” he smiled, gesturing to your outfit. “I plan to take you shopping so you can have a few outfits, jewelry, shoes, make-up, and whatever else you need ready for the planned upcoming events, as well as some dressed down outfits so you’re comfortable when we travel and to spruce up your wardrobe if you’d like.”

Careful. You’re going to spoil me.

“I’m also going to deposit two thousand dollars into your account each month for your leisure,” he added, writing it on his pad as if that was the final say in the matter.

“Two thousand dollars?!” you nearly shouted. You weren’t trying to sound hysterical, but you failed. “I’m sorry, but who spends that much on clothes each month?!”

Andy looked like he was trying not to laugh at the incredulous look on your face. “You don’t have to spend it on clothes. It’s for you to use as you wish.”

“But you’re already buying me a whole new wardrobe AND covering all of my bills and expenses for nine months. I’m assuming you're covering travel expenses, too?”

“I will,” he confirmed.

“Then there’s no reason why I’d need that much money,” you said with a shake of your head. Estelle would probably tease you for not agreeing, but it was too much. “I can’t possibly need more than five hundred a month.”

“One thousand,” he said firmly as you narrowed your eyes. “Humor me, honey. Please?”

You tapped your pen against the pad as you thought it over. You really didn’t see a reason for that much, but you could put any leftover funds each month into savings. It would be good to pay Estelle back.

Plus, how could you argue when Andy gave you a sweet smile?

“Fine. One thousand each month,” you said, ignoring the look of satisfaction in his eyes. “Okay. We’ve discussed the length of the contract, my job, living arrangements, expenses, which includes traveling. How about traveling itself?”

“Is your passport current?” he asked.

“It is.”

“Good. Some of the traveling will require us to go out of the country and you’ll need it handy. We’ll need to coordinate our schedules so you can block off dates in your calendar. We’ll most likely share a suite for any non-local events, but I’m not going to make you share a bed with me. You have my word.”

You nodded as you wrote that down. It was a bit of a surprise that he didn’t expect you to sleep with him. “Thank you, Andy,” you said, pointing at him with your pen. “But I’m planning to tell Estelle about every function, big or small, so she knows where I am. I won’t budge on that.”

“You’re allowed to give her the details. You said you trust her and that she can be discreet.”

You could never picture Andy as a creep, but the confirmation that he wouldn't force you to sleep with him and that Estelle would know what's going on helped you relax. "If I'm not working or going to functions with you, what am I doing with the rest of my time?" you asked.

Does he expect me to be at his beck and call?

"I'm glad you asked. It's your time to do what you want. Relax, hang out with friends, pamper yourself. Minus the days you'll have blocked out in your calendar, the time is yours," he explained, lightly twirling his pen in his hand. The motion momentarily distracted you. "I only ask if you plan to leave the city to tell me, that way I know you're unavailable if anything last minute comes up."

You weren't sure what you were going to do with that extra time. While a nine month long vacation sounded nice, you didn't want it to be all leisure. You needed somewhat of a routine. Maybe you could take some self development courses to prepare for going back to the office.

"That's fair. I don't have any plans to leave the city, but I'll be sure to let you know if I do," you said, hoping you weren't missing anything as you looked over what you had written down. "What if I’m sick or there’s an emergency and I can't be with you?”

“Then you won’t go," he said as a matter of fact. "I’d never ask you to choose between this arrangement and your well-being or family. Depending on the situation, I could miss it to help you.”

That was unexpected. Andy shouldn't have to put you ahead of any of his obligations. The offer though, even if it never came to fruition, warmed your insides. "That's kind of you, Andy," you said softly before you cleared your throat. “The last topic I have written down is sex.”

“No,” he said, something unreadable in his eyes at the suggestion. “Sex is not on the table because I’m not going to pay you for that.”

“Oh,” you said, quickly scratching it off your list. It was admirable on his part, but also slightly disappointing. Clearly you misread some of the signals. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply-”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he assured you, placing his hand over yours before you could pull it away. “If I sounded harsh, I’m sorry. I understand sex is an expectation for some arrangements, but it isn’t for me and I would never want you to feel pressured to be physical with me. I also have no judgments against anyone who pays for sex. My preference regarding intimacy is for it to happen organically.”

“I appreciate the explanation,” you said. This was a business transaction to him. That much was clear. But knowing his reasoning behind it did help. “As far as being affectionate at functions, what’s your take on that? Or going on dates?”

“I may have my arm around you or keep you close to my side, but nothing more if you’re uncomfortable with that. If you are, please tell me and I’ll stop immediately,” he answered before a moment of silence stretched on. "You're asking if we're going to go on dates?"

"You mentioned meeting once a month. Is that a date?"

He waited a few seconds before he answered. "It's a chance for us to meet up and talk. I don't want to demand a title for those moments. That isn't fair to you."

It wasn't a "yes" or "no" answer. Maybe after his divorce and not knowing if people genuinely wanted to connect with him, he wasn't interested in the dating scene. "Okay."

He leaned back in his chair with a hum. “You deviated from the sex discussion quickly.”

“You said it wasn’t on the table,” you reminded him. You weren't about to make a fool of yourself by pushing.

“I said I wasn’t going to pay you for sex. I never said sex wasn’t on the table at all,” he pointed out. You jumped to the conclusion that he didn't want it because it wouldn't be part of the contract. “Any discussion we have regarding that, I’d prefer not to be in a contract form.”

“So if it does happen, we’ll work through it together naturally?” you asked, not wanting to get your hopes up.

His gaze softened considerably. “Yes, we would. And I’d hope you’d trust me enough to know I’d treat you well and take care of you.”

"I do," you said.

"But sex and a relationship aren't expectations of our agreement or outside of it," he said, taking his hand away from yours. "I want to make that clear."

Andy driving the point home was what you needed, as saddening as it was. At the end of the day, it was a contract. He was paying you for your company. Surely he didn't want anything else. "Thank you for reiterating that. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss that I missed?"

His expression remained neutral, but you imagined it disappointed him that you shifted the conversation back to business. Wishful thinking on your part. "Yeah. The only other thing I wanted to discuss is the possibility of you having a driver."

"A driver?" you asked. Wasn't that a bit much? "I don't mind taking cabs or Ubers."

"I understand that, but I'd prefer if you had a driver. If you have to meet me for an event and I can't escort you myself, they will know exactly where to go. You also won't have to pay for someone to drive you around if you want to go anywhere."

"But you're paying them," you said.

"My job is to cover your expenses," he shrugged, leaning his head back and reaching up to loosen his tie. You stared for far too long. "Told you I want to take care of you, honey."

You shifted in your seat, hoping he didn't take any notice. "I want to pick the driver," you said, a little more breathy than before.

That poor driver is likely going to be bored for the next three quarters of a year being my chauffeur.

"From a selection of my choosing. They're all trustworthy."

"I'm giving Estelle the details of that, too," you said.

"I expect nothing less," he smiled, catching your eye. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"

"Not that I can think of," you said.

He tapped the notepad with his pen. "I'm going to have a contract drawn up, but I won't ask you to sign it for a week. This will give you time to back out if you need to and it will also give you a few days to contact me should you think of anything else."

"One week," you whispered. Could you wait that long? What if you did think of something else?

"Until then," he said, standing to walk back to his desk. He came back with a letter sized envelope. "So you know I'm serious."

Your eyebrows shot up when you opened the envelope. It was a cashier's check for two thousand dollars made out to you. He had it ready for you. "Andy, this-"

"I know we agreed on one thousand, but I was set on two thousand before we talked it over. Even if you decide not to move forward with this, I want you to take it."

Afraid you might cry again, you set the check down and stood up to hug him. He stiffened in your hold and you wondered if you overstepped before he exhaled and wrapped his arms around your back. You thanked him already with your words, so you wanted to do it again with a hug. The way he held you in return, it felt like was saying "you're welcome".

And that you weren't alone.

"I wish we could have that dinner tonight," he whispered, his mouth close to your ear. You shivered before you reluctantly pulled away. "Unfortunately, I have to get drinks with a few executives."

"That sounds terrible," you teased, drawing a chuckle out of him. "I should get going then."

"It is terrible," he agreed, making sure you had the check and your other things as he led you to the door. "I'll see you back here in a week at the same time."

"And I'll hopefully speak to you before then," you said, not wanting to sound clingy.

But the smile he gave you was a sign of hope. "I'd like that."

This is going to be the longest week ever.

I don't need to wait a week. I'm signing on the dotted line! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[neechees]

Posting about something one of my mooties talked about of what someone left in the tags of their post (which contained a list of reputable Native American organizations to donate to for Thanksgiving), but we can tell which people are not actually fucking paying attention to Palestinian fundraisers or why they were set up, or how they work, because why did this person leave in the tags talking about whether or not these Native run Organizations are "vetted"?

Reputable Native American organizations do not need to be "vetted". The reason why we have a vetting situation set up on tumblr is because there are a (SMALL, A FEW, BARELY A HANDFUL) number of scammers who started profiting off of a genocide by pretending to be Palestinian and stealing their information to do this on tumblr. The people doing the vetting are ACTUAL PALESTINIANS who have been in Palestine, know how living in Palestine works & what the proper identification cards look like, would do video calls to confirm identities, and in some cases personally know the people they verified. They did the vetting and documentation for what fundraisers are real because of people using this to scam, and if you didn't know that by now then you haven't been paying attention.

Native American organizations do not need to be "vetted", and who exactly would do the vetting?

[ventique18]

Malleus, Lilia, Silver, and Sebek went to a supermarket to buy this and that. When they went to the cashier to pay...

Cashier: "Will you pay by card, sirs?"

🐉🦇⚔️🐊: "Card..?"

🐉: "... Card... Invitation card? Are you ridiculing me? Are you mocking that my child of man never did come to my holiday dinner even when I took great care to send them a lovely invitation card?"

⚔️: "Sire, I don't think they mean that... I think... Perhaps... Ah, perhaps you require our identification card to verify that this purchase is legitimate?"

Cashier: "No, that requirement's only for condoms and booze."

🐊: "AH! I UNDERSTAND NOW! You require that newfangled playing card that my trendy peers have been exchanging of late!"

🐊, smug: "It just so happens Deuce so kindly gifted me some! Allow me to pay for this transaction, my lord! IT WILL BE MY PLEASURE."

Cashier: "Sir, these are Pokémon cards."

🦇: "Oh dear, dear. You boys have much to learn. Allow me to teach you yet another lesson."

🦇, taking the cashier's hand: "Here, son. I happen to have a spare one lying around."

Cashier: "Sir, this is a greeting card..."

🦇: "And a wonderful one at that! I must assure you that your grandparents will adore the message within. Next time, do not forget to visit them personally and not just send them a letter; time waits for no one, dear. Not even the longest-living of us. You never know when you'll see them last, so treasure what you have, whenever you can, and love as mightily as you can."

Cashier, tearing up: "Thank... Thank you sir. I'll do that."

🦇, now walking out of the store with his sons: "See, that is how you buy nowadays--"

And the store alarm BEEPED loudly, alerting everyone inside of the four confused and unwitting shoplifters.

[saytrrose]

Man oh man if only I could post this commission fully,, but alas,,

Oh! But there is a way for you to see it! A discord server, perhaps :)

Please note this is a 18+ server ONLY and you will need proof of identification/id to verify you are an adult !

[salahmanarfamily]

🛑Learn about Salah's story

First: the identification card

1-Name: Salah Alshareef.

2-Number of people: 4(Salah, his wife Manar, and 2 children).

3-Reasons for displacement: threat of eviction, direct bombing, killing, and arrest.

4-The last place of displacement: a tent in Dair-Albalah, south of Gaza.

5-The primary goal of the campaign: toevacute my family from Gaza due to Gaza war and rebuild new future for my family and children .

Second: What changes occurred in achieving the ultimate goal of the campaign?

1-Displacement from my place to a new place. Very expensive prices.

2-Buying a new tent ⛺.

3-Buy a shader number 4 and wood to reduce damage in the winter.

4-Huge daily expenses in light of the astonishingly high prices.

5-Providing treatment for me (convulsions medication)and treatment the family when they suffer from skin,gastritis and respiratory diseases .

Third: How can the primary and ultimate goal of the campaign be achieved?

By reaching 70 k, I can evacuate my family and rebuild new life , and cover the changes that occurred in the campaign due to the ongoing fierce war on Gaza.

In conclusion:

The earth has narrowed us down and many have let us down. We have tasted woe, grievance, displacement, hunger, loss and pain.😢

Now we are begging you to help us face this pain. Every contribution from you is a ray of hope for survival.🙏

Note:

My campaign has been verified by @90-ghost , @gazavetters .

Butterfly 🦋 Effect 🦋 Project 🦋 Line (944).

@buttercuparry @lesbiankakyoin @lesbianmaxevans @heba-2015 @cartoonrival @nnnnnnnnnnnnnnsposts @commissions4aid-international @sweet-honey-bunnies @schoolhater98 @bilal-salah0 @nabulsi @mar64ds @ankle-beez @khanger @akajustmerry @anonbea @annabelle--cane @awesomepeoplehangingouttogether @sayruq @komsomolk @kordeliiius @shesnake @palestine-button-reminder @vithcy @versacethotty @boy-and-girl-crazy123456 @neptunerings @lorillee @virfujiwara @jadenvargen @madeline-kahn @vortex-of-beats @shady-mc-muffin @dlxxv-vetted-donations @dalawamput-apat-na-sinag-tala @dalebambam @zeravmain @zndr315-blog @lesbianpinkie @lesserbeans s @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @humanwheatleyslefttoenail @rainy-fog @horcore-blog @postanagramgenerator @jezior0 @ghostofanonpast @palhelp

[the-apocrypha]

anything related to dream's german accent from "the fourth dimension"? I've been obsessed with that little detail since you first posted that fic ❤️

OMG yes. The original fic, for reference. Also, asking for a friend, does 800 words count as short?

They stand in perfect silence on the forest path, Dream’s phone balanced in the palm of his hand as it records. The sound of the bird's song is made into an aesthetically pleasing series of bars on a line, on the app, and below it an hourglass spins as the song is compared to millions of other stored bird calls around the world.

Pacific wren appears first.

Below it, reed warbler.

Then, at last—sedge wren.

“It must be,” Dream murmurs. He loses patience and pulls the phone back toward himself, tapping at it. “These other two are not native species, they would not be—no. Pacific. And… India. It must be the sedge wren, there is—” He taps some more, and then a recorded bird call plays from the phone. “Yes?”

Dream is looking at Hob.

It sounds the same to Hob, but then, Hob has long proven that he has neither the senses nor the temperament for birding. Why Dream insists on consulting him at these turns is an ongoing mystery.

“Definitely,” Hob says.

Dream's nose scrunches.

"Definitely not?" Hob tries.

“If only—” Dream's brows draw together as he abandons the phone to squint into the bushes where the birdsong has been coming from. The binoculars come up, and then back down again. The squint gains agitation.

There is contention, amongst the birding community, about what constitutes a “rare bird spotting”. Some people hold that the bird must be seen, while others will settle for call identification only. This is to say nothing of the debate regarding rare birds unintentionally captured in the background of photographs, noticed days or weeks later.

“Show yourself,” Dream mutters, with a scowl fit to light the brush on fire.

Hob has a little gander about the path while he waits, like an airplane in a holding pattern. Further down the trail, there’s supposed to be a boardwalk over a wetland that he suspects will take at least an hour to traverse for all the birds expected to be nested there. He’s brought a book for that particular layover. It’s even not in English, at Dream’s insistence that Inkheart was best enjoyed in its original text, and also of an appropriate reading level for Hob’s current faculty with the German language.

He takes a picture, as he waits, of Dream with binoculars to the sky. It matches the other thousand of them on his phone. Binoculars at the beach. Binoculars at the park. Binoculars out the train window.

Eventually, Dream’s shoulders slump, and he lets the binoculars drop. He pockets his phone.

The bird song has gone.

“Sorry, love,” Hob offers, with a consoling hand between Dream’s shoulderblades.

“Such are the trials of ornithology,” Dream sighs.

“There’ll be other birds,” Hob tells him, and with gentle pressure, he gets Dream’s feet moving down the path again. “Maybe you’ll get that, uh, gargagney you wanted instead.”

“Garganey.”

“S’what I said.”

Dream trudges down the path.

They make it approximately a hundred feet before Dream’s head suddenly snaps up, and he has the binoculars up as quick as a flash.

A second later, Hob is unceremoniously yanked closer.

“Look!” Dream hisses, shoving binoculars in front of Hob’s eyes. “Look, look, up there, third branch from the top, just to the right, it’s a peewit.”

“A what.”

The sound of fingers on glass patters away as Hob takes approximately an eon to find the little bird that Dream had somehow spotted out of the corner of his eye perched fifty feet up a tree.

“It is not actually called a peewit,” Hob says.

Dream ignores him.

Hob shakes his head, and lowers the binoculars to watch Dream race through the Merlin menu to find the peewit's dedicated page. He holds out the binoculars in preparation, and sure enough, thirty seconds later Dream snatches them up to verify his identification.

Hob returns to his holding pattern.

“Hey,” he says, at length. “Is that the peewit’s call?”

Dream looks up from his phone. “Mm?”

Hob gestures at thin air. “That?”

There’s a wok wok wok wok wok wok wok overhead.

Dream shakes his head, and returns to his phone. “A squirrel, Hob.” Only, of course, they are speaking German and so it is Eichhörnchen.

“A what?” Hob asks, suppressing a grin.

“Ein Eichhörnchen,” Dream repeats. He glances up briefly.

Hob’s pretend expression of confusion passes muster.

“A squirrel,” Dream translates impatiently, and then switches back to the binoculars.

One of Hob’s greatest sorrows in life is that Dream has learned to minimize his accented English over the last few years. It had been Hob Gatling, and vhatches and seh Dhreaming, every word just a little bit imperfect and all the more wonderful for it. Now, it is only when Dream’s focus slips that Hob is allowed these little gifts from him.

Skuurl.

Hob turns into another holding pattern, and grins to himself.