#stolen cheques

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"TWO MEN ARE ROBBED OF $4 BY FOUR BANDITS," Montreal Star. May 2, 1933. Page 3. ---- Assorted Burglaries Also Reported to Police ---- Victims of a highway robbery, Lucien Desroches, 5930 St. Andre street, and Lucien Ladouceur, 5888 St. Hubert street, were relieved of$4 last night, 10 minutes past mid-night. The two were walking home-ward and had reached the corner of Alma and Bellechasse when four youths, one of whom they thought was armed, stopped them and ordered them to hand over their money.

G. W. Graham, manager of construction company at 207 Van Horne avenue, reported to police that his office had been entered during the night. An electric clock valued at $15, a cheque for $6, and $2 worth of stamps were taken.

Cash and cheques to a total of $225 were stolen from the office of Harry Timmerman, 3692 St. Lawrence Boulevard, on Sunday night. Mr. Timmerman discovered yesterday that someone had entered his establishment by climbing a fire escape and breaking a second storey window, but thought that nothing had been taken until he discovered the loss of the money.

Cigars and cigarettes to a value of $100 were stolen last night from the restaurant of Henri Parent, 4251 Notre Dame street east. Entry was gained by breaking a rear window.

Theft of a bath tub valued at $40. and other fixtures valued at $10. from an empty house at 3503 Adam street, was reported by Albert Charette, 1430 Joliette street. The theft took place during the week-end, he said.

#montreal #highway robbery #highwaymen #armed robbers #armed robbery #break and enter #break in #burglary #stolen cheques #stolen cigarettes #stolen bath #great depression in canada #crime and punishment in canada #history of crime and punishment in canada #late night crime #crime wave

[a-spes]

| PRETTY FACES, DARK SOULS - part two (4.070 words).

| Summary - you rob the wrong person, and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.

| Tags & warnings - Men & minors DNI, Dark CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, nothing else for the moment (I think?)

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| part one. part two.

When Natasha realised that you left nothing to her, taking even her cheque book, she had to call her sister, asking her to come and pay for her. Even if she tried to be as nice as she could in such a situation, she couldn’t keep her words from being harsh.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt so humiliated. Natasha Romanoff, known as one of the most successful entrepreneurs of her generation, having to explain to the waiter that she can’t pay, having to ask her sister for money. It is something that shouldn’t have happened, something that needed to be repaired. 

If one thing was sure, it’s that Yelena has not been happy to be woken up by her sister’s bad mood, but she complied with her request without questioning it, knowing better than to argue with her eldest. 

“Don’t you dare to say a word", she warned when she eventually saw the blonde approaching the table.

She had been sitting here for almost an hour, waiting for her sister who decided to take her time. It was a childish way of avenging the brutal awakening she underwent, and the redhead would certainly have laughed if she wasn’t already irritated, and the youngest’s attitude only made it worse.

On the contrary, when Yelena saw her sister sitting at the table, she forgot about her bitterness, realizing how funny the situation was. She never could’ve imagined her sister calling her because she needed money. She is one of the richest people that exist on earth, and one of the most far-sighted at the same time. She always has her phone, at least two cards, her cheque book, and an absurd amount of cash, just in case.

The smile that grows on her face as she realizes how improbable the situation is earns her a slap on the back of the head, and Natasha never holds back her strength.

“Ouch!" She said, rubbing where she was hit, “it hurts!” She complained, but her sister doesn’t seem to care. In a second, the smile disappeared, giving way to a dark look.

“Shut up", the redhead said, rolling her eyes. She knows her sister as the back of her hand, and she also knows that the strength she put in that slap wasn’t enough to hurt her. She probably barely felt it, and is just too much of a cry baby sometimes. Something that’s pissing off the redhead that is in no mood for that kind of game. “Shut up, or you’ll learn what real pain is", she added, not even trying to hide the threat behind her words.

“You’ve no right to snap at me when I came all the way just to help you", she protested, and if they both knew she was right, her words were greeted by a simple sigh from the redhead who ran her hand over her face. No apologies, just silence. 

She couldn’t even remember the last time she witnessed her sister in such a state of distress, but she knows that nothing good came out of it. If she enjoys it when the oldest terrifies her men, she fears the incensed decisions she will inevitably make.

She could burn the whole city if she wanted to.

And Natasha has to admit that the thought crossed her mind a few times while she was waiting for the blonde to show up. She was barely able to control her anger, and couldn’t help but bounce her right leg under the table while her fingers were tapping on the table. But none of these actions helped to calm her nerves.

“I abandoned really important things, you know”, she added, as she took her wallet out of her pocket to put it in her sister’s hand. She had outstretched it toward her, and Yelena didn’t need words to understand what the redhead wanted. “All of that because you forgot your wallet …", she mumbled under her breath, but obviously the other heard it.

“I didn’t forget my wallet, it has been stolen”, she muttered, as if it could make the situation less embarrassing, as if she hoped her sister wouldn’t hear, but none of these statements turned out to be true. 

“You’re joking, right?” she asked back, not believing the oldest. “You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone if that’s the case”, she added, sure that her sister was lying to her in an attempt to hide what she probably considered as a weakness.

That’s what her sister always does. Most of the time, she is perfect, but when she inevitably makes mistakes, she always finds excuses. She blames her men, runs away, or pretends it has never happened, and Yelena feels like it’s exactly what’s happening right now. She is thinking that her sister has forgotten her wallet, but doesn't want to admit it. 

Maybe because the idea of Natasha being robbed sounds unbelievable.

“I am not lying, someone stole me”, she said again, and her sister better not make her repeat it a third time because she will really lose her temper this time. Everytime she said it out loud, it only made it a bit more real, as if she couldn’t quite believe it before. But the realization is now sinking in, and she feels like she is becoming crazy with all the thoughts that are crossing her mind at the moment. “They took everything", she angrily added, throwing the empty wallet on the table, only for the youngest to check.

And her sister was right. They took everything, not leaving a single penny. The blonde was so shocked that she didn’t even know how to react.

“But … who’s stupid enough to steal things from The Natasha Romanoff?” She managed to ask, once the initial surprise had worn off, “and how did that even happen?” she added, looking at her sister who was now pacing up and down the terrace.

But she knew she wouldn’t get an answer, at least no today. Her sister was ignoring her voice, too busy mumbling things to herself, and she would probably be thrown over the edge if she interrupts, so she waited for them to be in the car to talk again.

She didn’t even complain when the oldest stole her keys, deciding that she will be the one to drive without even asking first. The blonde slipped in the passenger seat, muttering a few insults that Natasha pretends not to hear.

“So, what do you want us to do?” she eventually asked after they’ve been sitting in silence for a few minutes. She was looking at the redhead, the one who was staring at the road, lost in her thoughts. 

“Nothing,” she replied, and brought back to reality by the question, she started the car, trying to ignore the look of surprise on her sister’s face. 

“Nothing?” she repeated, “so you’re just going to let them go away when they robbed you?” she continued, and the lack of reaction from her sister made her want to shake her sister to get her thinking straight.

“Nothing yet” she corrected her, putting an end to Yelena’s protests. Despite what the other may think, she doesn’t intend to let the culprit be forgiven. It has never been her intention, and she knows exactly what to do to get every penny back.

When she notices the determination in the eyes of the oldest, she knew the next months were going to be interesting. She smirks at the thought.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

This time was the last. 

That’s what you said to yourself after every theft, and it has never been true, because you never earned enough to get out of this situation. What you were stealing was usually just enough for you to survive a few weeks, and even if you kept telling that to yourself, you stopped believing that it could become a reality. 

It was nothing more than a dream, you head knew it, even if your heart never stopped dreaming about a future brighter than your present. Every night, the day you would eventually be out of misery was the last thing you were thinking about, and you spent hours imagining how it would look like. 

You wanted an apartment that would be big enough to welcome the friends you would have made, and a job that you appreciate, but about which you would still complain. 

At first, it was only about stealing the essentials, a jumper or an apple for which you would feel guilty for days. It’s when you stopped fearing that someone would catch you that you’ve started to think bigger. The few people who witnessed your theft generally decided that they weren’t paid enough to come after you, a little girl isn't worth their energy.

The years have gone by, and if the number of your victims increased, your wealth hasn’t. That’s when you realized that stealing money from the tourists in the street was not what would give you a better life, and decided to go after the richest people on the earth, the ones that probably wouldn’t even notice if you’d taken a few hundred dollars from their wallet.

One day, you’ll be making so much money that you will be able to pay for your debts.

Slowly, this need to survive has turned into a need for a life where you would have something to call yours. You didn’t want something to eat, you wanted an apartment. You didn’t want stolen clothes, you wanted something bought with your own money. Even a cup or a pen would be enough, as long as you could claim it as yours. 

One day, you’ll deserve everything you have.

You stopped stealing almost two years ago, when you eventually raised enough money to start a new life, and the dream became a reality. It took you a lot of time and effort, but you eventually got exactly where you’ve been dreaming of being since your teenage years.

It was thanks to the inattention of this woman who hadn’t blocked her card when it was stolen, neither she declared her cheque book stolen, allowing you to use it as you wished for months. Usually, your victims are quick to solve the problem, leaving you only with the few notes you stole from their wallets.

But this time, you were left with more money than you ever had, more than enough to buy a ticket to another city, and still being able to buy essential supplies after. You could leave, rent a room for a few weeks, just until you find a job and get your first pay, you could even buy some new clothes, and you would still have enough money.

At first, you thought there was a catch, but the days have gone by, they became weeks, months, then years, and if the card and the cheque book never stopped working, nothing bad happened. No one ever knocked at your door, no letter got sent, and the feeling of dread you felt every time you paid has finally disappeared.

Maybe she forgot. Maybe she didn’t even notice. Maybe there was a problem that never got fixed. Maybe it’s just taking a lot of time. You have no idea, but you can’t help but wonder why, thinking about all the reasons that must have led to that situation.

It is fate. 

That’s what a part of your mind is whispering to you, and you ask nothing more than being able to believe it, the other part trying to understand the situation without being able to make sense of it. Even after two years, the question was still in the back of your mind, and you’re almost sure that you could still use the card if you wanted to.

But you don’t, because you made a promise to yourself. You swore that, the moment you would earn enough money to support yourself, you would stop using hers. It has been a bit more than a year since you found your job, and this part of your life feels so foreign now. The only reminder of your past is that box, where you’re keeping all the cards, cheque books, and wallets you once stole. The one that’s hidden in your closet, where no one could see it, not even yourself. The one that contains a past you want to forget about. 

You now have a job, an apartment, and you even made some friends on the way. They’re good people, hanging out with them makes you feel like you are too. They never asked questions about where you’re coming from, because they don’t need to know, they’re just appreciating you as you are. The grown-up version of who you were once.

When late at night guilt gnaws at your mind, you’re thinking about their compliments. When the sadness at the thought of your younger self never being loved that way, your memories with them remind you that you succeed to become someone that can be loved.

Someone that deserves everything she has.

There is only one person that had glimpses of who you were, and it’s Kate Bishop. Even if you’ve tried to keep your secrets away from her, it’s hard to do so when you’re spending all your days and nights with someone so curious.

Kate is a coworker, a roommate, but mostly your closest friend. It’s not because she understands you more than anyone else. It’s because she never makes a big deal of anything, and you know nothing you could tell her about you would change the way she acts around you. This girl is everything you want to be: free and happy.

Someone that doesn’t care about social norms. 

She would sneak into your room in the middle of the night just because she heard you cry. She wouldn’t even ask questions about the reasons behind the tears, only complaining about how thin the walls are, and how she can’t sleep because of that. 

She would go through your belongings when she needs something but she can’t ask you because you’re not home, only telling you when she gives the objects back.

She would answer your phone when it’s ringing while you’re in another room or your hands busy, holding the conversation as if the calls were intended for her. 

That’s how she discovered you were looking for a new place to stay. You’ve only been coworkers for a few months when she answered your phone. It was the social worker who called to tell you that you’ll have to move out of your flat within the next weeks because you no longer meet the criterias.

Your first reaction was to yell at Kate. It has been the first and only time you’ve done it, usually not minding when she does it. 

But this time it was different: you were scared. You didn’t know her a lot at that time, and you were fearing that this call would destroy the relationship you had started to build. You put so much effort into pretending that everything was fine, and had always been that way, that you thought the truth coming out would ruin everything.

She was the first relationship that you didn’t build on lies, at least not on the big ones. She also has been the first to be able to hold a conversation with you for a while. Not Lydia, or any name you might have borrowed by the past, but just y/n.

When you’ve spent your whole life lying, it’s not easy to know who you are.

It was a bad habit that you had a hard time quitting, still having the urge to lie about some details. Maybe to appear as a more interesting person, maybe because you are afraid to disappoint them. 

No, it’s because it’s comforting.

It’s what gave you a bit of hope, what gave you the impression that you had a normal life. You’ve never been interested in living the marvelous lives of your alias, you just wanted a normal one for you. Maybe if you tell these stories a lot of time, your mind will accept them as reality. 

Over the years, lying became more than a habit: it was an addiction. You felt bad every time you lied to the black-haired, even if it was only about small and insignificant things, like your favourite colour, but you couldn’t just stop. It’s only that day that you realised that it might ruin everything between the two of you.

Everything has been so easy since you met Kate. You never felt like you were too much, or in the wrong place, because she always made sure to integrate you into the team, and you’re still regretting the words that fell from your lips that day. 

She was the first genuine friend you’ve made, and that’s how you thanked her kindness, with snide remarks that she didn’t deserve.

For a minute, you saw yourself back there. In that lonely and miserable place.

But she didn’t get angry. Nor for the lies, nor for the horrible things you said. She didn’t look at you with pity, but with something that was closer to surprise, as if she couldn’t quite understand your reaction, but knew enough to not judge. That’s when she asked you to be her flatmate.

Kate was the first one to learn about your favourite colour, the real one, and all your daily habits. From your favourite thing to eat for breakfast to the time you get up, she knows things you never thought you would share with someone one day. Kate has been the first one to see y/n. The one that doesn’t wear any mask, the one that does not need to pretend she is someone else.

Then, it was your turn.

Tonight, when you’re looking in the mirror, the only thing you can see is your smile. A bright, and big one. Even with makeup on, you are not looking or feeling as anyone else than yourself. Every choice has been made by you to suit your taste. 

“Are you done yet?” She asked, and you could hear Kate’s muffled voice through the bathroom’s door, “we’re going to be late!” She complained for what’s probably the tenth time in the last quarter, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she was stamping her foot on the other side of the door, throwing a tantrum like a child.

“Isn’t it what celebrities are supposed to do?” you replied, a smug smile on your face as you eventually opened the door after spending more than an hour in the room. 

Everything needs to be perfect, and perfection demands time, something your impatient roommate doesn’t seem to agree with. The second you stepped out of the bathroom, she grabbed your arm.

“That’s not funny!” she exclaimed as she started dragging you toward the entrance. You couldn’t help, but roll your eyes at her attitude.

You know that the real reason behind her actions isn’t a concern for punctuality, Kate always being late, but just a result of her excitement for the evening that’s coming: some friends of hers are going to play music in a bar, and she doesn’t want to miss even a second of the show. A simple glance at the clock confirms what you were thinking: you’re not late. 

But you also know it’s useless to argue with the black haired woman when she is in that state of mind, so you just go along with it, letting your friend drag you toward the entrance. You have just enough time to grab your bag before you leave the apartment.

You are too focused on your footsteps to be listening to her rambling about the coming party, trying to not trip on your own feet. But she isn’t listening to you either, deaf to your pleas for her to slow down, or to let go of your arm, and it’s only when you arrive at the said bar that you get your freedom back. 

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

She never forgot.

She has been thinking about what happened that night every day since. The years have gone by, but it never left her mind, and picturing all the ways in which she could get back what you owe her was soothing her to sleep every night.

Despite her impatience, she took her time, waiting for the moment you would’ve forgotten about her, when you would let your guard down, thinking that your past mistakes had been forgotten, and forgiven. Maybe your previous victims did, but she has nothing in common with these guys, and chasing you wasn’t about the money. It was about dignity.

She needed to make you feel the same shame that she had that morning. 

Some of her associates don’t understand her obsession, even her sister sometimes suggested that she let it go, fearing that it would jeopardize the company. But she stayed firm; you started a game that night, and she is not the kind that appreciates losing.

She is determined to show you that two can play that game.

It wasn’t difficult to track you down. The only obstacle had been the false identity you built for yourself, but it had only been a matter of months before she found you, there was no way she couldn’t recognize your face on the security tape. It was in the middle of the night, one of those where she couldn’t sleep, and eventually decided that she would rather look for you instead of tossing and turning in her bed, consumed by her thoughts.

That’s when she found it, a footage from a shop’s security camera where your face appeared. You were nothing like the woman she met at the party, from your hair to the way you were moving, you definitely had none of Lydia’s elegance, and she couldn’t even understand how you’ve been able to pretend to be her, and how you’ve possibly been good enough to fool her, The Natasha Romanoff.

But despite the numerous differences, she was sure it was you on that video. There were details you couldn’t change, and the shape of your jaw was one of them. She could still see your face as she had you pinned beneath her that night, her fingers running along your cheeks, wishing that moment would last forever. 

Since then, she kept collecting these videos as a kid would collect cards, watching them regularly. The footage made everything make sense, and you seemed closer than ever as she kept hitting the replay button.

She had to admit that you are smart, but not smart enough, and everytime you used the card was one more clue guiding her in the right direction. At first, she was able to track your movements, it only took her a few more weeks before she discovered your identity, and more importantly, learned about your past.

A few weeks, that’s all it took, yet she had waited several years before going after you, deciding it was the right time only when you started building a new life for yourself. You moved to a city where no one knew your name, you got a normal job, and haven’t stolen since. You even made some friends. You got the life you have probably dreamed about since your teenage years, and she knew that perfectly. 

She also knew that the moment she would break your illusion of peace, and steal your hope of a better life, you’ll be heartbroken. Hopeless.

She saw how, as the years went by, you started to be less cautious, thinking that your past mistakes were nothing more than faded memories in your mind. She saw how you eventually stopped looking around every time you were going out, how you started opening up to your friends, seeming to forget about what you have done. 

But she didn’t forget, and she promised herself that you wouldn’t either. It’s only fair that you pay for your mistakes, isn’t it? 

She started the car when she saw you, and Kate, disappear round the corner. You were obviously out for the night, and it was the perfect opportunity. No one would pay attention to the disappearance of a girl, not in a crowded, dark place that reeked of alcohol and illegal substances.

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| part one. part two.

| tag list - @thalia-is-not-ok / @tobiaslut

#a spes writing #pretty faces dark souls #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow fanfiction #dark natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #reader insert #female reader

[seat-safety-switch]

Something about the way that Big Business likes to operate in this country rubs me the wrong way. They stride into little, upstanding communities and push them around to get a slightly better deal on extracting our precious, non-renewable natural resources. Only pollution and human misery is left behind. For a brief, shining moment, I was the solution to this corruption. And then I kind of let things go to my head.

Running for office is easier than you'd think. All you need to do is get signatures of a hundred people. An afternoon at the mall, asking folks to save the endangered Pacific African Grey Rhino, will just about do you. Of course, there's also the filing fee, but I managed to distract the lady working the counter at City Hall and transfer the cheque from another mayoral application to mine when she wasn't looking.

Quite why I fell out of favour with The Mayor is between him and I. We go way back, and it would not reflect well on my upbringing to reveal our private feud in public. Not like it stopped him, though, as he blabbed to every talk-radio host, morning-news talking head, and local newspaper about how awful I was. They just laughed, thinking that nobody could be that bad, and surely it was some kind of desperate lie, another sign that he had lost touch with the common man. Such embellishment did get my name in the public ear, and I won in a landslide after promising to double speed limits (that's all it takes.)

From day one, I went about kicking all the huge-capitalism greedheads out of my city, mostly because I got tired of them driving their Porsches slowly on my newly speed-unlimited corners. Big lawsuits were launched, rich folks ejected into the nearest river. I was on the news every day in my stained coveralls and greasy sweater, adding further credibility to my regular-dude motif. If you were some kind of crank weirdo who liked to tell other people at the bar what the government should do, then I was your representative. And crank it I did. Wait, that came out wrong.

After about a week of this, I think the big business monsters got together. They went to their little gangster restaurant and they decided the best way to get rid of me would be to catch me up in a bribery scandal. Didn't work: I took the bribe and bragged about it to the news. That bribe? 2005 Dodge Neon, with an un-torn drivers' seat and only about 180,000 km on the odometer. Mint. They did their homework. The problem was that I now had a fancy new car, which I had effectively stolen from rich people, but I didn't want to look rich, so I didn't drive it to work.

The problem is that I slowly became paranoid. As with my forebear, I lost touch with the common man. I began to fear that they were going to steal my Neon – my retirement fund – while I was at City Hall, doing stupid mayor stuff. Soon, I lost focus on my work, and I slipped in the polls. There was only one thing left to do: stop coming to work for a few weeks and don't answer the phone. Works every time!

[thebeesareback]

Hi worsties,

We are gathered here today for some juicy and weird moments from the original Sherlock Holmes stories

- the king is worried that his nudes are going to be leaked

- a woman calls off an engagement, so 30 years later her ex-fiance decides to frame her son for murder

- the father of a kidnapped child offers big dolla for the identity of the kidnapper. Sherlock asks about the reward, demands a cheque, makes the father write it out, increasing the tension horribly, then taps the father on the shoulder and says "you know who did it, and you know your son is at the pub down the road"

- to relax, Sherlock and Watson read complicated scientific journals

- Sherlock pretends to be ill by putting wax on his lips

- A woman is catfished by her stepfather. They meet up, walk around and talk, and she still doesn't recognise him

- A man has two left shoes stolen from the same hotel room, on the same day

Enjoy xoxo gossip girl

#john watson #johnlock #sherlock #sherlock holmes #superwholock #watson #acd holmes #acd johnlock #acd sherlock holmes #acd watson #sir arthur conan doyle #arthur conan doyle

[arcaneglitch]

I Nearly Got Art Scammed

Hey guys. I wanted to share this story with you as a precautionary tale for artists that take commissions. It's one of those things you think will never happen to you until it does

So here's how I was almost a victim of an art scam and what you can to prevent scams from getting the better of you

This one started on ArtStation, which makes sense as a target since it's primarily a portfolio site for artists rather than a typical social media. It began with a standard question about commissions.

Nothing out of the ordinary, right? I replied that I was and asked if she would like a link to my commission form. In hindsight, her response should have alerted me that something was off because she didn't ask for the form. Instead she offered to pay $300 for a drawing for her son's birthday (just over a month out).

Still, if you're an artist desperate for commissions, you might overlook any oddities. We corresponded a bit more, sorting out details about the piece. That's when she sent this:

That's the first warning sign. These days, it's practically unheard of not to have an account set up with an online transfer service (think PayPal, Zelle, etc). Still, you might write it off as someone being a bit old-fashioned.

This is where the first tip comes in: be specific about how you accept payment and don't immediately compromise

At that point, we switched to email. She agreed to a pose for the commission on November 9th, then was silent. Two days later (November 11th), I emailed asking her to confirm additional details.

She didn't get back to me until November 14th.

This is another indicator of a scam (listed as one of the warning signs in articles). If someone was confirming details for a time-sensitive commission, it's highly unlikely they'd go radio silent for days, especially when they were responding consistently before.

A day later, she emailed to tell me that there was a problem with the check.

I replied and she gave me the details.

What she's attempting to do is execute an overpayment scam. They typically involve generous offers paid through atypical methods such as credit cards or cheques. Then the scammer will admit to some mistake with the payment (as above) or admit to overpaying you from the start while giving you a fake excuse. The excuse she came up with was fairly detailed, but I don't think there's any reason someone wouldn't be able to cancel a cheque that hasn't been cashed.

Later, she sent me this:

Also typical of an overpayment scam. You're asked to refund the extra money through an online transfer (she suggests Zelle later). If you follow through, you'll discover that the scammer either used a fake/stolen credit card or that their cheque bounced.

DO NOT SEND THEM MONEY. If you send them money, you will not get it back. Same goes for whatever you might have sold to them.

The part that tipped me off was her telling me I could send the money back through Zelle. Not that the stuff leading up to that wasn't fishy, but that's what drove it home.

She revealed that she has access to an online transfer service, yet she didn't offer to pay for the commission that way, despite it being much more convenient. I suppose one could argue that she wanted to send money from a specific account that wasn't set up with Zelle. But if that was the case, she could pay from the Zelle account and then cover with a transfer from the other one at a later date.

I asked her if reimbursing her was the only way, suggesting that using Zelle would be easier. She completely ignored the suggestion.

Again, in what situation would you not be able to cancel a cheque that has not been cashed?

By this point, I was pretty much positive that it was a scam. I shared screenshots of the emails with another artist friend of mine, and she agreed that it sounded like a scam.

In my last email to the scammer, I told her that it sounded like a lot of hoops to jump through and that I typically collect payment through online transfers. I said that unless we could work out an alternative form of payment, it sounded like she needed to find someone else.

Anyway, I figured I'd share the story here. Hopefully, it'll help my fellow artists and warn people about the dangers of scams.

Thank you for reading! You can find more information on overpayment scams here and here is a link to spotting the signs of an art scam.

#artist on tumblr #art scam #psa

[lia-the-normal-human]

Let me get this straight. Celia from TMA, who went by the name of Lynne Hammond prior to the eyepocalypse, exists in TMAGP with the full name Celia Ripley. What? How? It's possible that her name in TMA was actually Celia Ripley and that she gave "Lynne Hammond" as a fake name, similar to "John Smith" from that same episode. But she was trying to get money from the Magnus Institute, and I can't imagine why you'd give a fake name while trying to get a cheque written out to you. It would also be weird that she unknowingly chose to go by her original first name, after she got her name stolen.

It would be endlessly funny to me if they just never explained this in the show whatsoever. It's just a weird coincidence or something that's vaguely alluded to. I'd love that. I'm mostly just mad that I'll have to start adding OG MAG episodes to the database now. Half the reason I hope Norris and Chester aren't Jortin is so that I don't have to add all 200 episodes and a billion item records.

#not rec #tmagp spoilers #tma spoilers #if you feel like reading 200 transcripts #and inputting every person place and thing into a spreadsheet #hit me up #celia ripley

[ayrennaranaaldmeri]

there are also neural networks in your fucking brains and the brains of the concept artists you hire bc that's what they are fucking there for, direction and inspiration. are you gonna cut greg rutkowski a cheque for all that direction and inspiration you found off his stolen work?? or any of the other artists these fuckers built their shitty databases off of?

#tbd #ai garbage #fuck ai art #owlcat games #go fuck yourselves

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

The Republican congressman and serial fabulist George Santos has until Friday to appeal an order to reveal the identities of three people who guaranteed his $500,000 bond on fraud charges, a New York judge said on Tuesday.

A lawyer for Santos had said identification of the guarantors would imperil their “health, safety and wellbeing”, and claimed the New York congressman would rather go to prison than reveal the names.

“My client would rather surrender to pre-trial detainment than subject these suretors to what will inevitably come,” the lawyer, Joseph Murray, wrote to the judge on Monday.

At his arraignment in Long Island last month, Santos, 34, pleaded not guilty to multiple charges of fraud, money laundering, theft of public funds and making false statements.

After entering his plea, Santos told reporters: “It’s a witch-hunt. I’m going to fight my battle, I’m going to fight the witch-hunt, I’m going to take care of clearing my name.”

The New York Times sought the identification of Santos’s bail guarantors, arguing they should be identified as they had a chance to exert political influence over a congressman. Other news outlets joined the Times in its effort.

On Tuesday, Santos did not immediately comment.

Last month, House Republicans deflected a Democratic motion to expel Santos from Congress, referring his case to the ethics committee.

Only five members of Congress have ever been expelled from the House: three for fighting against the Union in the civil war and two over convictions for fraud.

Santos has admitted “embellishing” a résumé that was ripped apart after he won his seat in Congress last November, even his real name being brought into question.

He has denied accusations of wrongdoing including alleged schemes involving stolen cheques and puppies and allegations of sexual harassment from a former aide.

After winning a New York district previously held by a Democrat, Santos became a key figure in Republicans’ slim House majority. In January, he backed the House speaker, Kevin McCarthy, through 15 rounds of voting to secure the position.

Santos has repeatedly said he will not resign, and is running for re-election next year.

#us politics #news #the guardian #2023 #rep. george santos #george santos #george santos should resign #anthony devolder #new york #bail bonds #Joseph Murray #fraud #money laundering #theft of public funds #making false statements #The New York Times #us house of representatives #republicans #conservatives #gop

[jamiesfootball]

🌹!

Hello stranger! Thank you for the rose!

This one's from the wtnv horror au thing. Wippet under the cut for all things James Tartt Sr related-

The next morning he wakes up and the cheques are missing. Gone. Stolen.

Whoever it was took the fucking time to drink all his fucking beer. Left the empty bottles in a neat row in the sink. Whoever the pricks were that broke in, they must've known who he was. Must've know he wouldn't be able to call the police, not with how much they were already breathing down his neck.

It's more disrespect than a man can be expected to handle. James rages. He throws the bottles as hard as he can. He yells and spits at the wall everything his son has waiting for him if he ever dares to show his face again. Next time he sees the lad, its on sight for thinking he can just walk out on his old man like this.

Once he's gotten it off his chest, he heads out into the cold Manchester air to find a pint. Denbo and Bug still owe him for pointing the finger at him in the first place, and he intends to cash in until they're square.

When he gets home that night, all the crushed up glass is still in the kitchen.

He doesn't remember there being blood mixed in.

#i'm never sure what to do when people send the roses but the stuff i'm working on is unpleasant #mentioned abuse cw #james tartt sr #i don't even like giving him a tag but just so people can filter him out #fuck jamie's dad #fic: the vacant house behind our home #thank you anon! #rose for a snippet #wippets #writing progress #ask box is always open

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"GOT SIX MONTHS," Ottawa Citizen. August 29, 1912. Page 10. --- Young Man Convicted of Many Offences. --- Six months in the Central prison was the sentence meted out to Robert Reed who pleaded guilty to a charge of stealing $70 in cash and a number of checks from Dr. Kennedy, sometime ago. As he had appeared before the court on a previous occasion for a theft committed on July 14th and had been let off on suspended sentence, his worship said, that he would impose a light sentence as a warning to the young man, but if he appeared again on a similar charge, he would be deprived of his liberty by serving a long term in the penitentiary. He therefore, on the two charges would impose a sentence of 6 months on each charge, the sentences to run concurrently. Hubert Rice, the other young man who was associated with the robbery was allowed at liberty.

#ottawa #stolen cash #stolen cheques #theft #suspended sentence #sentenced to prison #central prison #crime and punishment in canada #history of crime and punishment in canada

[richardsphere]

Leverage Redemption Log: The Debutante Job

Time to start the last season (as of current date. I know Season 3 is in production) --- We're in London... (crown jewels?)

Person is walking and phone-texting, he's being tailed. He panics. Camera slides past an old woman

Guy gets kidnapped, Hardison is here to save the day. (I dont mind post-timeskip Hardison being HackerGod with this ridiculously unrealistic level, cause he's relegated to Special Episodes. So it helps let him feel "balanced" compared to the other OG members who get to show off their coolness every episode)

Hardison and the Nerd talk about his hand-bejeweled computerajigger. --- Back in the states. Parker is dressed as a Crustacean. Elliot complains that Sophie has become a bit too much of a prepper in her newfound Mastermind position.

Hardison is working on a satelite launch with some milionaire actor (but thats a story for another time)

To be clear: Volkov's ridiculous wealth is definitly not a reference to Putin's golden toilet. Definitly not.

We need Legal Proof. --- Meanwhile at Harry's Retirementhome (i mean office) he's preparing to sue a constructioncompany over a womans injuries (judging by the way he's moving her chair she's probably at least partially paraplegic, but i dont want to say for sure)

The look on Harry's face when he sees Sophie: "here we go again" "I was unaware that civil engineers took such an oath" Ok to be clear the whole "devourer of children" thing is based on an ancient historical slander-job by one of the abrahamic religions (i THINK it was christians slandering phoenicians?) There is no actual evidence that any actual children where ever thrown into the fire-offering-statue-thingy. Sophie your script is both overwritten and under-researched. (NO SLANDERING ANCIENT GODS.)

Harry's look at the cheque like "well my client would've literally settled for less". --- I like the little acknowledgement from the team that Harry had that case on lock and that they only interfered beause they needed him quickly.

So we're definitly doing the "Sophie has to learn the lesson from The Gold Job" plotline now, arent we.

Harry still doesnt understand the "now lets go steal an inside joke"-bit. --- Harry's disapointment that his cover-story to get back in the game is "lawyer".

Parker in a Bag. "thats a supsicious amount of security"... "that is the right amount of security". Good gag, 8/10 He's trying to teach his daughter English Language and Ettiquette (gut instinct: Aranged marriage?)

Volkov wants UK high-society friends to protect them. Now if only we had a Duchess on our side. Sophie protests at the change of plans, she's forgotten that only the essentials should remain rigidly planned. --- Time to distract the pilot: Using nothing but some costumes and a sugar-ed up sandwhich. (Pretend mistaken identity for a cocaine smuggler)

Weights match stolen relics, enough evidence to past legal for the publishers. Breanna knows their locations thanks to the London Surveilance Panopticon.

Elliot is going to the safehouse with Pizza, --- "its been ages since I've been in London without having a serious problem to solve"... Goddamnit. Season 1 of Redemption was about Harry redeeming himself for past sins, and now season 2 starts with Sophie digging up her old Duchess persona (a notably long con that the nobility still seemingly believes in) and saying a line like that. We're gonna get Sophie Backstory Things arent we?

Also the safehouse... isnt. --- So the editor was a weakspot. "oh they tied him up in the basement, never good" "Basement?" What a simple fresh-eye can do.

Oh now Breanna has made me remember the Dara O'Brian stand-up thing about how those basements are dug and Chuggy.... (in related news, I am sad now.)

I apreciate Breanna taking the time to check wether Harry is legally back or just on loan, its a nice little formality.

Judging by Sophie's reaction, that neighbour is either a Celebrity Cameo, or someone from her old Duchess Days. (Makes sense, the reason the basement-diggers dig is cause their neighbours are rich-asses who cant be made to sell their house) --- Oh the BIG ASS FONT is back. (I do apreciate the little joke of it going "VOLKOVS TOWNHOUSE" before the camera moves 20 ft to the right and it says "VOLKOVS NEIGHBOUR". Its a good joke, 10/10)

he doesnt look like a celebrity cameo, so i think he's just a pastiche.

Turns out, MR Music likes sound of all types, Sonar included. Oh so its both a rockstar and one of Sophie's ex-mark's.

So for those of you keeping score: Miss Deveraux cultural footprint now includes: San Lorezo's 20 royal bill, a priceless mystery painting only 5 people have ever seen, A US military base and a UK Gold Record hit from the 70's. --- Who the hell spells Todd with an H?

The daughter does not like the slave-labour dress.

Tohd is back... Tohd is a spy.

Ok im going to ignore the "Enhance Picture" stuff, but only because this is hardisons own camera and is probably a custom-made one with a high-enough grade lens to actually capture all that data. But we better not see this "program" used on regular CCTV footage later. --- Tohd has gone missing, right around the same time that miss hates-slavery-dresses vanished. its a teen romance.

Everything is runnig in a closed loop, no way to shut it down except to make it reset itself.

And there is our Tohd-shaped complication. --- Breanna manages to talk the debutante into staying until her father's nice and sloshed.

Good on the reporter for helping our heroes find the torture-battery.

And Tohd escapes through the Rockstars Basement. Where Kiki has planned quite the welcome party. (sure he has diplomatic immunity but lets be honest... He's a despot who just lost a lot of his money. His rivals will take care of him)

Back to the theatre, news report shows reporter giving an interview. Ah, Hardison and the neurodivergent urge to tangent mid-apology

#leverage #leverage redemption #leverage redemption season 2 #The Debutante Job

[the-unspeakable-tsar]

X-Manson by Doctor Benway - Annotated by Tsar

X-Manson or X-Mansion is an X-Men fanfiction written by someone under the username Dr Benway; because there is no discussion of it online, I have decided to annotate it piece by piece to dissect it via Tumblr. If you are interested in helping, please message me with things that i have missed or questions. My text notes will be like this but in pink, while Benway's story will be written in white. I will mark text with the story in red like this to drive attention to narration points that will be important later.

The annotations begin underneath the keep reading break.

Part 2

Her room is very small. It is 12 feet by 10 feet, not including the bathroom that was once a closet. Along one wall there is a steel kitchenette unit that was once lime green. It contains a sink and a refrigerator that is so small that it puts the place in violation of the building codes. Next to the kitchenette is a small table with a kitchen chair. There are papers on the table, neatly stacked. They are the weekly problem sets turned in by 231 first year physics students at the University of Saskatchewan, where she works as a teaching assistant. There is a cheque on the table as well, still in its envelope. It is for a very small amount of money, less than half of what the alcoholic prostitute downstairs collects on Disability.

The "she" in question is Kitty Pryde of the X-Men. The sets of 231 first year physics papers are in reference to how Kitty was portrayed as exceptionally bright, gifted even in her earliest appearances.

She also sleeps in the room. There is a small bed in one corner that she sits on. There is a plastic milk crate in one corner. A 13 inch colour television and a VCR sit on the crate. The remainder of the room is filled in by bookcases. There are two that block the two windows, nailed into place with two-by-fours. The bookcases are filled with expensive books on physics that were borrowed or stolen from a number of prairie university libraries. There is another bookcase and a file cabinet blocking the door, which is also sealed off by two-by-fours. None of this stops her from getting in and out. Her landlord could care less, as long as he gets his cheque each week. Not that he would complain if he did enter. The entire room and its attached bathroom are spotlessly clean from the orange shag carpet to the offwhite spackled ceiling.

She sits on the bed. She is of average height for a woman, 64 inches tall. Her brown hair is cut short, very short. She is slight, the kind of slightness that comes from potential fatal illnesses of psychological origin. She stares. It unnerves people, drives them away. The only ones who don't notice are the ex-psychiatric patients who live in her house and her street. She is the only person who is not living there because she has no other choice.

No-one is upset now by her staring, because she is alone and staring at the television. It is tuned to the local CBC affiliate. The National has just finished, and now there will be a documentary. She is going to watch the documentary. On her table is the receipt from the counselling centre, where she went when she discovered that the documentary was going to be shown uncut.

The credits come on, indicating that the film had been produced by Film Four International, Canal Plus, RAI, ZdF, and the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. It is a film about the United States of America.

#marvel #x-men #x men fanfiction #x men comics #annotations #fanfic #cults cw #cw eating issues #cw body horro #cw cannibalism #cw injury #tw character death #x-manson

[theskeleton-inyour-closet]

in the late night meetings that we assume,

in the moments our eyes meet across the room

in cheap cheque books i write to you

and in stolen glances i deposit in your bedroom,

in the moonlight when your hand meets mine

and our silhouettes are nothing but blue light; in

the crack of dawn when the sun splits your face

i tell you that whatever our souls are made of,

we will always be the same.

#female writers #poetry #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writerscorner #writing #its 3am #original poem #spilled words #thinking #writers and poets #bad writing #love poem #words words words #love #writers #illustration #sadbeautifultragic #bad day

[enkisstories]

Amber had just returned the library ID to its owner and was now taking a rest on one of the building’s balconies.

Amber: “Too bad this case is over already! It was fun!”

Gavin: “Over? We still have to find the stolen computers!”

Amber: “The clunky old things? No need to! I’ll just donate three new ones to the library.”

Gavin: “Oh? So whichever library is lucky to know a celeb can have computers galore, only the ones without such connections have to rely on the dirty old cops to get their stuff back? Go on, tell me you’ll buy back a homeless’ stolen possessions for them, too - but only those you personally know! WE didn’t have a celeb stumble over us and dish out presents! WE only had the underfunded DPD, and we had to pray for our case getting assigned to Hank, because everyone else in that cesspool of a precinct would have first looked in their case files collection for an unsolved one that they could pin on us!”

Amber: “Hit a nerve, did I? But, Gavin, I can see your point. Instead of buying three computers, I’ll donate the sum to the DPD, so that you can put it towards solving crimes. Buy a new car or whatever you need!”

Amber: “But let’s keep this between the two of us.”

Gavin: “Nah, that wouldn’t do it. I don’t know on top of my head what we need the most. Connor probably does. Rika most certainly does, but she’s also prone to buy us all new party tableware instead of useful stuff. I better ask Connor.”

Amber: “Then so be it. Just don’t let the camera team see this, I don’t want our deal to influence the voting.”

Concealed camera drone: *whirrr, whirr*

Note: That speech bubble caught me pants down. Knowing Amber, she probably genuinely meant to help, not bribe the DPD. But handing over the cheque like this sure sends some mixed signals!

#letsinvestigate #sims4 dbh gameplay #the sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 #letsinvestigateEP2 #LIAmberStein #LIGavinReed

[chesacakeripper]

Seto Kaiba writing a valet a blank cheque for $500,000 whilst driving off in a semi-stolen ferrari is not what I expected from S4 of ygo but here we are

#rowan watches yugioh #seto kaiba

[mcnagerie]

❤️ Valentine's Clichés ❤️

How many of the following does your muse appreciate on Valentine's Day?

Bold for yes, strike for no, italics for take it or leave it

sexy lingerie / candy hearts / a huge bouquet of flowers / a single red rose / romantic dinner at home / romantic dinner at a restaurant / valentine cards / chocolate boxes / candles / rose petals / sex dice / sex cheques / wine / netflix Interdimensional cable and chill / romantic music / jewellery / cuddly toys / balloons / love notes / romantic movies / marriage proposals / perfume / cologne / chocolate covered strawberries / feeding each other / eating off of each other / day trip / weekend away / naughty texts / sappy social media posts / sharing a bath / sharing a jacuzzi / hand made gifts

Tagged by: stolen from @sinfulladiesofhell Tagging: You! If you want to ♥

#𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 — [ meme ] #𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 — [ vaggie || hc ]