Use cases
22 trades. Pick yours and you get a whole store at your own address — not a blank form, but pages with your prices, your words and your photos on them, live in about a minute. Find the one that sounds like you. It takes about forty seconds.
These are the actual stores. 68 pages across 22trades, each one built from things the product does today — no roadmap, no “coming soon”. Pick yours and it is what appears at your address, with your name on it, ready to edit.
Showing 22 trades.
The mixes travel further than you do. Someone in Doha wants to send something back and has no way to do it — and the booking conversation restarts from zero every single time.
One address carrying the tip jar, the mixes and the booking deposit. It's what goes in the bio instead of a till number.
Worth knowing. The tip page asks for a name and a song request at checkout, so the shout-out arrives attached to the money rather than in a separate DM.
The show is free, the hosting isn't, and a brand asking "what are your rates?" gets a paragraph typed out from scratch — usually a day late.
Listener support, the bonus feed and a rate card a sponsor can pay from, all at one address.
Worth knowing. The rate card is a page, not a PDF. A sponsor pays on the same screen they read the price on, which is the entire difference.
Your best-paying viewers are the ones furthest away, and every shout-out request arrives as a DM with no money attached to it.
Channel support, paid requests, and the files people keep asking for in the comments.
Worth knowing. Every request lands on the transaction with its note attached, so you never go back into the DMs to find out what somebody actually asked for.
Tips get promised in chat and never arrive, and a tournament becomes a spreadsheet of people who say they paid.
Tips that show up on screen, paid games and coaching, and a tournament that scans people in.
Worth knowing. Check-in is the whole thing — nobody plays on somebody else's slot, and a wrong scan can be undone with the full trail kept.
Streaming pays nothing, the catalogue has nowhere to be bought, and a booking agreed on trust quietly evaporates two weeks before the date.
Fan support, the catalogue as files, and a deposit that holds a show date.
Worth knowing. Priced in one currency and settled in another: a diaspora fan pays in dollars and it reaches a local account, converted when the payment is authorised.
You watch the bank app, confirm the payment, then send the file by hand. And you do it again at 1am.
Everything you have made, in one place, delivering itself.
Worth knowing. Download links are minted only against a paid transaction. The file's storage address is never public, so a URL can't be forwarded to somebody who didn't pay.
The writing is free and you want it to stay free, so the only ask you can make is a paragraph at the bottom of an email that nobody reads.
Reader support, the archive as a file, and commissions priced up front.
Worth knowing. A one-off ask converts better than a membership pitch, and this is one — no card on file, nothing to renew, nothing for a reader to remember to cancel.
The early price is a promise you have to police by hand, and at the door a screenshot of a payment is indistinguishable from a forwarded one.
Tickets, tables and gate entry, all at one address.
Worth knowing. All three are redeemable: every receipt is a single-use QR, a second scan reports who admitted it and when, and once the last tier sells out the page collects names instead of money.
You can seat twelve and you have sold nineteen — and the class pass lives in a WhatsApp thread nobody can audit.
Class passes, a bootcamp block and one-to-one training.
Worth knowing. Prepaid packs rather than a subscription: no card on file and nothing to fail on renewal. A full class collects a waiting list instead of dead-ending, and adding places tells everyone on it exactly once.
The slot is held, the client doesn't come, and the afternoon is gone. Then the gallery goes out by file transfer and expires before they download it.
Packages, a deposit that ends no-shows, and galleries that deliver themselves.
Worth knowing. The gallery unlocks on the receipt the moment payment clears, and the link exists only against that paid transaction — so it doesn't expire and it doesn't leak.
"How much for braids?" is answered from scratch every day, and a slot held without a deposit is an empty chair.
The price list, a slot they can book, and the shelf.
Worth knowing. A printable QR poster with your own caption — taped to the mirror, it's the same page you paste into a DM.
Free discovery calls fill the diary with people who were never going to buy, and the invoice still ends up as an account number in an email.
A paid intro call, session packs, and a private invoice page.
Worth knowing. Any single page can be kept unlisted, so the invoice page never appears in the store. Private pricing stays private while everything else is public.
"Send me your account details" turns into a screenshot, a wrong digit, and a week of chasing a payment that was never actually sent.
A deposit that starts the job, an invoice page, and a price on everything outside the scope.
Worth knowing. Ask for a note at checkout — "Which invoice is this?" — and it lands on the transaction and in your CSV export, where your books can reach it.
A brand asks for your rates and gets a number you invented on the spot — then pays sixty days later, if at all.
A rate card a brand can pay from, content packs, and appearances with a deposit.
Worth knowing. Paid first, briefed after. The money is taken on the same screen the price is read on, which is what stops a rate card being an opening offer.
You can't price a job you haven't seen, so you price nothing at all — and the customer decides you're expensive before you have even spoken.
A rate card that doesn't have to invent a price, a call-out paid before you travel, and an invoice page.
Worth knowing. A page whose lines are all enquiries publishes with no payout account at all — so you can be online and findable before you are ready to charge anybody.
Every quote is a phone call, and on the day the balance gets argued about with the van already loaded.
What you move, a fee that holds the date, and a way to pay the balance.
Worth knowing. The store's hero carries a location line and a delivery note, so "town moves and upcountry runs" is answered before anybody has to ask.
Bookings arrive as "are you free Saturday?" in your DMs, and the slot you hold for someone is gone the moment they don't turn up.
A service list buyers can ask about, and a deposit that holds the slot once you've agreed a time.
Worth knowing. The first page charges nobody, so you can be bookable before your payout account is set up.
Orders arrive as a paragraph of text and get added up wrong — and you have already started cooking before anybody has paid.
Today's menu, weekly packs and catering, under one address.
Worth knowing. An optional tip set as a percentage rather than a figure, so it stays sensible as the order grows instead of looking absurd on a large one.
You are awake at midnight switching a page on, and awake again to switch it off when the stock is gone. The people who missed it are gone too.
The current drop, one-off pieces, and what's coming next.
Worth knowing. Sold out and not-yet-open collect an email instead of dead-ending. Raise the cap and everyone waiting is told exactly once — and you see how many came back and paid.
Materials come out of your own pocket, and "I'll pay when it's done" is how a finished piece sits in a workshop for a month.
Commissions with a deposit, ready stock with real counts, and a balance page.
Worth knowing. Stock and availability are read by the same code the charge path uses, so a card in the store and the page it opens can never quote different numbers.
Instagram is the shop and the DMs are the till — and there is nowhere a stranger can look to decide that you are real.
A season rather than a shelf: six pages under one address, which is the largest store in the catalogue.
Worth knowing. The hero carries a cover, a logo, a location pill and a delivery panel — which is what a buyer reads before they will trust you with an address.
Contributions arrive across four channels and somebody reconciles them in a notebook — while the family abroad, who would give the most, simply can't.
Giving, fees, and a seat at the fundraiser.
Worth knowing. Pass the commission to the giver and the cause banks the full amount it asked for. The fundraiser's receipts scan at the door on the night.
Your product needs to bill, and you do not want to build a payment integration to do it.
A cousin in Toronto, a client in Dubai, a follower in London. They want to pay you and the usual answer is an account number that means nothing where they live. Whatever you sell from the list above, this is the part that changes.
None of it is required, and your trade’s pages arrive with the three or four that matter already switched on. The rest is here for the day you need it.
Four things it genuinely isn't for. If you're one of them, better you find out here than three weeks in.
Money splits the instant a payment is authorised and there is no held balance sitting behind it — so there is no escrow to arbitrate a dispute from. If your buyer needs protecting against a seller they've never met, this is the wrong shape of tool.
We call it a store, so be clear what that word does not include here: there is no cart across pages — a buyer checks out one page at a time — no size-and-colour variant matrix, no calculated shipping rates, no stock syncing and no order pipeline to move a sale through 'packed' and 'shipped'. Delivery is priced as a line you add, like any other. If you're running a real catalogue operation, keep it.
Refunds work and appear as their own line rather than being quietly subtracted from your earnings — but they're reflected from the payment network after the fact, because the money already left. Perfectly workable; just plan for it if reversals are your normal flow.
Betting top-ups, forex and crypto, 'investment' offers, adult content. Acquiring partners flag these hard, and one of them can put an entire account at risk — including everyone else's.
The through-line: f8spot works wherever the trust already exists — creator and fan, freelancer and client, coach and student, seller and repeat customer — and the only real problem left is collecting the money. Your store is where that trust gets an address. It is not built to manufacture trust between strangers who have none.
Every payment splits at the moment it's authorised: your share goes to your own account, our commission routes at the same time. There is no f8spot balance, and no withdraw button, because your money is already on its way before your dashboard finishes loading.
That's the design, not a missing feature.
Your money page answers three questions separately: what has reached your bank, what is still clearing, and what all of it has earned you. It deliberately refuses to blend them into one “available balance”.
The honest reconciliation needs a processing fee we're never told — so rather than invent that number, each figure is labelled with where it came from.
You take money from day one. Identity documents are asked for only once your settled volume passes a threshold:
It's a ceiling you grow into, not a form before your first sale — and it covers sole traders, not just registered companies.
No monthly fee, no setup fee, no card to add. You choose per page whether you absorb the commission or the buyer covers it — useful when a service fee is normal on a ticket but would look strange on a product price. There is a processing fee from the payment network on top of ours; that one isn't set by us.
Your store is the address — one URL with your name, your cover photo and everything you sell on it. A page is one thing inside it: a menu, a ticket table, a deposit, an invoice. You get a store with its pages already written the moment you pick your trade — usually three — and you edit them from there. Any page can also be sent on its own, and any page can be kept out of the store entirely.
No — delete the pages you don't want and you're left with one. Nothing is required: tiers, files, check-in and the extra pages are all optional. The reason you're handed more than one is that the second page is usually the one you'd never have thought to build, and it's the one that gets paid.
No. They open your store or a page inside it, pay, and get a receipt at a permanent URL they can keep. Nothing to download, nothing to sign up for, no app.
Yes. You can trade from the day you arrive. Identity verification is asked for once your settled volume crosses a threshold — it's a ceiling you grow into, not a form you fill in before your first sale. It covers sole traders and individuals, not only registered companies.
Yes. A page can be priced in one currency and settle in another — the conversion happens when the payment is authorised. If a reliable rate can't be resolved at that moment the payment is refused rather than guessed, because a wrong rate is a wrong charge.
Yes. Your store and every page in it have a printable QR poster with your own caption — 'Scan to order', 'Scan for the mixes', 'Scan to donate' — so the link you paste in a DM is the same one taped to your counter.
Everything stays editable after it's live — the prices, the words, the cover photo, which pages are listed, and repricing a page into a different currency at the current rate. Anything already paid keeps its own receipt exactly as it was sold.
No — they're a starting point you overwrite. Each one is a plausible local figure for your market rather than a converted number, chosen so the page reads like a real price list on the day it goes live instead of a form full of zeros. Changing them is the first thing most people do.
Yes. A page whose lines are all enquiries becomes a price list — no cart, no pay button, an enquiry card instead — and it publishes without a payout account. It's how the trades start: list what you fix, get found, then add a price to any line and the same page at the same URL turns into a checkout.
Tell us what you do and how you get paid for it. We'll tell you straight whether f8spot fits — including when the answer is no. The catalogue grows by people telling us what was missing.
No card required · No monthly fee · Your buyers never sign up
