#Fee Schedule Update

[precisehealth]

Book Now Medical Credentialing and Fee Schedule Update

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[oceandiagonale]

your honor, the evidence clearly shows that these two are really cute and deserve to be happy 🥺🥺🥺

[insistonyourcupofstars]

college is killing me

[galariangengar]

💭

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 3

Pairing: Millionaire!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Rating: E, 18+, Minors dni

Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: You decide it's time to put yourself on Joel's radar.

CW: Age gap (Joel 45, Reader 22), dual POV. Specific warnings in small red below the cut, do not read to avoid spoilers.

WC: 10k. Sorry, grab a snack!

AN: I'm continuously surprised by the love, excitement and joy that this story brings anyone but me. That probably doesn't even make sense, I'm just lost for words, tbh. Forehead kisses to @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk, and @milla-frenchy for screaming with me or pre reading this for me. @lotusbxtch gets a forehead kiss and a tip of the nose kiss for deep dive beta reading this, she's solely responsible for every semi colon.

Series Masterlist || My Masterist

I no longer have a tag list, please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates to be alerted for future chapters.

Content Warnings: Flirty, alcohol consumption, mentions of sexual acts, kissing, mutual pining, reader being pinned against a wall, sexual tension, touching. Reader does have some description so may be considered more of an OFC.

The week after Joel removed you from his club goes by in a well-scheduled blur. You work your usual three days, cleaning mansions of people who don’t tip as well as Mister Miller. You pour yourself over LSAT study guides, practicing insane logic questions. You enjoy a coffee date with Jamie who asks you what happened the night at the poker game. You tell her a practiced lie that feels like acid on your tongue as it leaves your lips. You hate lying to your friends, especially her. You can feel that lie sitting heavily on the top of your stomach the entire time you’re with her, but you simply cannot afford to get fired with three years of law school on the horizon. You spend an evening with your roommate, Odette, watching Netflix and eating dumplings from her favourite spot, the only spot in Austin that has those little white paper boxes with the red writing. 

If you decide not to lie to yourself, on top of everyone else, you also spend at least an hour a day watching videos of women tied up and dominated, thinking of Joel goddamn Miller the entire time. Since learning his full name, and the name of his club, the Google searches you swore you’d stop doing have been much more productive. You’ve found multiple blogs and Reddit posts, not just about kink, but also about Joel. It turns out that he’s well-known in the kink and BDSM communities around the world, but is essentially changing the face of kink in Austin. 

One night, you get lost in a Reddit wormhole of women in Texas, and one in Paris, who have been a submissive for a man that sounds a lot like Joel. They don’t actually mention him by name but there’s advice on what he likes and doesn’t like, and how he never actually has sex with any of his submissives. It also sounds like some of these women pay him to be their dom, and, based on the conversations in the comments of one thread, it seems like he has a few submissives at the moment, and majority of their interactions happen at the club. 

 The club. Fuck, Jamie wasn’t kidding when she said JMK was exclusive. Anyone can join, assuming you can pay the yearly membership fees that, according to Reddit, are around $80,000 per year. From the minimal, cryptic information you find, Joel Miller is the main owner and he has two business partners. One you assume is his brother that you served the other night, but the third you are unable to find any information about. 

Since everything you find online is up to interpretation, it’s hard to say what is and isn’t true. According to one disgruntled poster, once you become a member at JMKink, there are a lot of rules to follow. Everyone has to get tested monthly; it’s highly recommended that women are on birth control; and even if you’re married to the guest you bring, men must wear condoms. You can’t just bring anyone in with you: every member and their guest has an app, and the only way to get that app is from a QR code and an assigned activation code. According to another poster, the app is full of waivers and consent forms. You can’t stop the shy smile that crosses your face when you remember how concerned Joel was with your consent the first time you met. 

The Monday before your usual every-other-Tuesday shift at Joel’s, you find a blog post about becoming a submissive, and it’s like it was written just for you. The writer explains how she had a hard time shutting off her brain and how, by the end of the day, she was so exhausted from making decisions that all she wanted was someone to tell her what to do for once. This led to her and her husband exploring a sub/dom partnership. Now, she feels lighter and freer; they’ve both discovered new ways to get pleasure outside of the idea of sex that society feeds us. Being a submissive isn’t always about orgasms or pleasure; it’s helped her build confidence, and she’s found that as they progress, that little voice that tells her she isn't good enough has stopped being so loud. 

After reading through the post a few times, you shut your rose gold laptop and stare at the wall behind your desk. You feel seen, heard even though you didn’t speak. At first, you found yourself feeling ashamed of getting off to these videos, like there was something wrong with you for being turned on by it, but it’s really that ability to let go of control that you crave, the feeling of someone else making the decisions for once. You want that, but more so, you think you need that, and badly.

As a firm believer of ‘everything happens for a reason,’ it all comes together for you. You aren’t even nervous as the thought consumes you. If Joel shows up at his house, tomorrow I’m going to ask him to teach me. 

On Tuesday, you do as you always do, following Joel’s instructions to a tee while listening to a podcast. However, today you only wear one AirPod in hopes of hearing that familiar and comforting engine rev that signals him either coming or going. Every creak or pop of the house causes your heart to flutter, but it’s never him. Much to your chagrin, Joel doesn’t come home. 

Inside the envelope is that expensive matte black paper again, ‘Thanks -JM’ neatly written along it. 

Great, you think to yourself sarcastically, we are on initial terms again. 

Twelve hundred dollars is tucked into the envelope this time, you roll your eyes after thumbing the crisp green bills. The first tip you ever got from him felt sincere, but after walking in on him, and everything since then, it’s feeling more and more like apology money. You shouldn’t complain; people would kill to make this kind of money, but everything would be so much easier if he’d just fucking talk to you.

Your fingers run along the thick, rich paper that he uses as company letterhead. You can’t explain it, but the paper feels like Joel. It’s rough and thick, yet has a vulnerability to it, like you could easily destroy it with just a pinch of your fingers and a flick of your wrist. Your mind flashes back to his club the other night. He was literally begging you to leave, you can still hear it, the pleading in his voice as he said, “I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me”. Your fingers trail across the golden ink of his neat handwriting and then open the paper the rest of the way. At the very bottom of the page, in shiny black print similar to the JMK logo at the top, is a phone number. Your heart slams against your ribcage as your eyes scan across the numbers.

  When you get home, you unfold the note on your kitchen counter and pace the three or four steps it takes to walk the length of your small kitchen, never taking your eyes off the paper, looking at it like it’s a live bomb or like it’s going to disappear if you let it out of your sight. This is it: you could call the office, make an appointment or something. You’d probably have to lie, but you just need to see him; you need to make a case for yourself. Your stomach lurches, throat tightening at the thought of being in the club with him again. You open the freezer and grab the bottle of tequila, taking a big swig right from the bottle. It’s a cold burn and you clench your eyes as you swallow it down. Your body shivers involuntarily.  

You dial before you can talk yourself out of it and before you know it you have an appointment under a fake name to speak to Joel tomorrow afternoon before your study group meets. You take two more large gulps of tequila after hanging up the phone. 

Fuck, this is really happening. You take another large sip of the frozen tequila for good measure, your nose scrunching up at the taste. 

Joel’s office isn’t attached to the club, it’s in a smaller building across the street and that has seemed to tamp some of the nerves that are vibrating your very core. Still, you can stop from nervously smoothing the wrinkles that have formed on the short, flowing skirt of your white sundress as you sit on the red velvet couch across from Joel’s receptionist. She is a small woman with a chin length bob, she’s probably in her late fifties and you wonder if her kids or grandkids know that she works for the owner of a kink club, or maybe she’s part of the community too. You’ve done copious amounts of research; kink isn’t just for young people, and you suppose Joel isn’t exactly young either. For all you know, she very well could be a dominatrix in her spare time. 

She says your fake name in a soothing tone as she stands and walks towards the tall black door, pulling it open effortlessly. “Go on in, sweetheart. Joel’s ready for you.”

You smile at her sweetly, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously as you walk over the threshold to try to convince the millionaire whose home you clean to dominate you. The air in his large, bright office feels heavy and thick. Blood rushes through your ears as he looks up at you from his seat. He slips off his 1950’s style black horn rimmed glasses and places them on his desk. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he assesses you. Your heart lurches, knees trembling as you take a few nervous steps towards his desk. As his eyes meet yours you feel it again, that exposed and naked feeling that only his gaze seems to be able to cast. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn such a short dress, but it’s an unseasonably warm March day and even before leaving your apartment you were sweating in a mix of nervousness and excitement. 

You see his lips move, but you can’t hear him over the pounding of your heart. You stop just past the door, then hear it click shut behind you. Joel’s silky lips move again and this time you hear your name followed by a calm, “What’re you doin’ here?”

The words come out before you even think about them, you practically yell them at him, “I want you to teach me.”

His hand waves to the chairs across his desk. When you don’t move he harshly says, “Sit.”

You rush across his expansive office, the plush carpet feels luxurious under your shoes. When you reach the black leather chair you sit on the very edge of the seat, your knee nervously bouncing up and down in time with your heart.

“You want me to do what?” He asks hesitantly, leaning forward in his chair. He looks absolutely beautiful in the late afternoon sun - orange hues reflecting off his tanned skin, the few greys along his temples glistening like the moon on the ocean. He’s in a black dress shirt again, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. You noticed today that he’s wearing a black watch and a gold ring on his right ring finger. Between his accessories and the veins that line his toned forearms your mouth goes dry.

“I - umm, I want you to teach me.”

The last word has barely passed your lips when he scoffs out, “No.”

Your face falls, “Joel, please. I’ve been doing research and I’ve decided that, well, that I want to be…that.”

He places his large palms on the desk, the square black diamond in his ring glittering in the sun, and pushes himself up. You crane your neck to look at him as he slips his hands into his pockets, his eyes already locked on yours. His intense eye contact wraps you up in a weighted blanket of safety and comfort, which is a dangerous and vulnerable place, a place that has the ability to rip you in half, much like you could do with that company letterhead he left you. He walks slowly to the other side of his desk. Once in front of you, he leans back onto it, keeping his hands in the pockets of his perfectly tailored black dress pants. 

“You can’t even say it.” He challenges. 

You furrow your brows, ready to confront him like you always seem to do. In the few interactions you’ve had with Joel, more often than not, it’s been him trying to tell you what to do, you fighting him over it, and then him ultimately winning. It’s infuriating, but not this time. No, this time you’re going to win. You have valid reasons to want this, and they’re all backed up by your research. You are leaving this office as his submissive. 

“I can too!” 

He shrugs his broad shoulders nonchalantly, “Say it then. You wanna learn how to do what, sweetheart?” 

You sit up tall on the edge of the chair, crossing your arms under your breasts, praying your cheeks don’t flush as you finally admit it out loud. “I want to learn how to be a submissive.”

“No.” One of his meaty hands comes out of his pocket, waving you off as he says it again.

“Please!” You plead, “I want to learn how to be a sub.” 

Joel actually squirms at the sound of you being so needy. He lets out a harsh ‘fuck’ under his breath and then whispers your name, “I can’t do this with you.”

Got him, you think to yourself, failing to fight the smirk as you lower your voice and sweetly beg, “Please, Mister Miller?” 

Joel ‘Your-Consent-is-Most-Important’ Miller is not a small man: his broad shoulders take up almost an entire door frame and he’s easily nearing six foot four, but at the sound of you calling him the one name he’s asked you not to, he moves faster than your brain can comprehend. You gasp as he lunges towards you, his hands landing on the arms of the chair, his wide shoulders pushing you back as he cages you in. Your exposed back hits the back of the chair, your short skirt riding up your thighs slightly. He is practically on top of you and for a second you can imagine that this is what having sex with him would look like. His knuckles blanch from gripping the arms of the chair so tightly, his eyes are practically black, and that familiar flush he gets when you challenge him paints his neck and cheeks.

His voice is deeper, thick with arousal, rattling your bones as he speaks slowly, “I said not to call me that. You can’t even…You can’t.” He shuts his eyes and takes a slow breath in through his nose. His tone softens as he opens his eyes, “No, I ain’t doin’ this with you, sweet girl.” 

You practically writhe in your chair. Sweet girl. He’s terrifying and commanding and so fucking beautiful like this. He obviously has a soft spot for when you beg, so you soften your eyes and stick out your velvety smooth bottom lip enticingly before whispering, “Please, Joel.” 

He lets out a groan as he pushes himself off the chair and walks towards the large wall of windows behind his desk, his hands resting on his tapered waist. He avoids your gaze as you sit up, squeezing your thighs together tightly to calm the need at your core. “Lemme set ya up with someone else. My brother Tommy. You were gettin’ him a drink at that poker game.”

“I remember,” you mumble, looking down at your hands like you always do when your lack of confidence gets the best of you. You can’t let that self-doubt creep in now, not when you’re this close. You look back towards his broad back. “But I really don’t want anyone else.”

“Why?” He spins towards you, the lighting behind him gives him an almost ethereal glow. There’s absolutely no denying it, Joel Miller is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

You tuck your hands under your legs, simply stating, “I trust you.”

“You don’t even know me. I could be a horrible guy.”

You let out a sad laugh, shaking your head at him. He’s right, you don’t know him, but you have a feeling about him and you consider yourself pretty good at reading people. “You’ve never given me reason to think I couldn’t trust you. Even that first day. You were so calm and apologetic.”

Joel presses his lips in a thin line, eyes raking over you. You subconsciously slip your bottom lip between your teeth, and a muscle in his jaw flexes. “How old are you?”

“Twenty two,” you immediately regret lying; the avenue of trust is of utmost importance between a submissive and their dominant, so you quickly add, “Almost, I turn twenty two on Friday.”

 “I can’t do this.” He croaks and you can’t help but feel a little bad. You’ve put him in an uncomfortable position and his voice sounds defeated. 

“Please. I always felt I needed more but,” you stand up and take a few slow steps in his direction. “But…I didn’t know what more was and I - I think it’s this.” You audibly swallow pleading, “Please. I need you to help me. I want you to help me. Teach me.” 

He holds his hands up and steps back as you inch closer. A silent call that signals you to stop or that he doesn’t trust himself, not here, not with you. “Jus’ let me set ya up with Tommy. You’re his type.” 

Your heart sinks and an acidic taste lines your tongue. Of course. You aren’t that tall, slender icy blonde girl he had strapped to his desk. No, you have curves, and stretch marks along your hips, your boobs are a B cup on a good day. He can get whatever woman he wants, why would it be you? You look down at your hands, pushing back the nonexistent cuticle on your right thumb. This nervous habit of yours used to drive your mom crazy, ‘you’re going to have no skin left soon’ she’d lecture, but you can’t help it. The immediate result of the nail bed looking clean and perfect is like a dopamine hit. It leaves you with a feeling of accomplishment. The problem is, the initial confidence you had about this decision on Monday night has dwindled and you’ve been so anxious about this meeting that every single finger has a nicely pushed back cuticle. 

It’s silent in the room for a while, you shut your eyes as you sheepishly ask,  “Am I not attractive enough for you?”

“No!” He says insistently and without hesitation. His hand runs through his beard, a faint scratching sound fills the room drawing your eyes open and away from the skin of your thumb. As they land back on him you wonder what his patchy facial hair would feel like between your legs or along the soft skin of your stomach as he kissed you. His voice softens, “That’s not it. I just - I’m sorry. I jus’ can’t do this, sweetheart.”

You feel your chance to become the woman you want to be slipping through your fingers. Your plan is failing and for once in your life you don’t have a Plan B, this is the only plan that makes sense to you. Sadness creeps into your throat, “Why?” 

“‘S not a good idea, sweet girl,” he answers, his soft brown sugar flecked eyes reaching out to yours. 

His face and voice seem to be at war with his words. He’s saying no, but there’s a sadness in his eyes and a caring undertone to his voice. You’re not sure how you know it, but him calling you sweet girl means something to him. “Because I’m not your type?”

He shakes his head, that same curl falling into his eyes as it did in his foyer the other day. “That’s the problem, you’re exactly my type.”

Hearing that you’re this beautiful man's type should feel like you’ve won the lottery, but the way his shoulders slump as he says it only builds that lump in your throat. As you swallow the sadness down, his eyes travel to your neck, watching as the muscles flex and relax with the motion. “I - then why?”

He lets out a long breath and as he walks to the door he says, “I ain’t havin’ this conversation. I said no. And someone who is cut out to be a submissive would just take that answer for what it is.” 

“You’ve made it clear that I’m not a submissive,” you counter and walk towards the door. He cracks the door open and you step in close to him, unconsciously taking in his leather and ash scent before adding, “Have a nice night, Mister Miller.” 

Joel

The door feels like a feather behind his hand as he slams it shut - your body, warm and already vibrating, trapped between him and the solid piece of wood that separates the two of you from his receptionist. He made himself a promise in his rear view mirror the other week; he had to cut this off, create distance. He needed you to be just his house cleaner. Because everytime he looks into your eyes he feels the same way he felt at seventeen when he met Tiffany in that garage. Everything about you oozes sweetness and innocence, his sweetheart, his sweet girl. He didn’t think he was capable of feeling that way again. And he definitely should not feel this way for someone who is younger than his own daughter.

His large frame looms behind you, forcing your chest and forehead to rest against the door. He uses his foot to spread your legs wide. A breathy gasp passes your lips as your hands scramble for purchase against the wood grain of the door. He keeps pushing your legs apart, wide enough for your short white skirt to ride up your creamy thighs. Thighs he’s imagined wrapped tightly around his head as he makes you scream. 

Joel takes a small step forward, caging you completely, making it so you’re completely at his mercy. He can smell the sweet scent of your arousal growing between your thighs; he knows if he reaches a calloused finger to the gusset of your panties they’d be soaked through. His cock is hard as steel, pressing against the zipper of his pants and the small of your back. You’re practically panting and he fights to keep his breathing steady when really he wants to mirror the quick, uneven pace of your breath. This is much more serious and intimate than when he had you trapped in the chair. This is dangerous. This could lead to more.   

His strong fingers wrap around your dainty wrists. He loves the way you don’t fight him as he pulls them above your head, gathering both your wrists in one of his hands, pinning them to the door roughly. His free hand draws a slow line down your arm, then along the sensitive skin of your neck, and down your spine. Goosebumps break out over your skin and you instinctively arch your back into him, a desperate whine passes from your lips between laboured breaths, and that sound nearly buckles his knees.  

His lips come to the shell of your ear, his beard tickling you as he speaks in a slow and commanding tone. “Do you feel what you do to me when you call me that. I’ve asked you not to. Multiple times.”

Your mint and lavender scented shampoo fills his nose as he nudges at you to tilt open your throat to him. He revels in how easily you oblige, cocking your head to the side like the good little girl he knows you are. He continues, lips just a hair away from your pulse point; he’s sure if he pressed his lips to it he’d feel how hard your heart is racing. “But I don’t want you to stop. In fact, I fucking love that you haven’t stopped.” 

Your soft skin is warm against his rough fingers as they continue their trail down your body, running over the firm globe of one of your ass cheeks. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard, distracting himself from the urge to spank you for calling him Mister Miller yet again. Finally, his fingers find a home on one of your thighs. He brushes lightly against your soft inner thighs, small little touches jumping from one leg to the other. The little involuntary twitches of your body and the needy little gasps of air you suck through your teeth has his cock straining painfully against his zipper. He’s aching for you in a way he hasn’t felt for years. 

“You infuriate me with your insubordination and it makes me weak,” he mutters. “Makes me absolutely insane. I can’t stop fucking thinking about what’s underneath those clothes, and after seeing your perfect breasts and your little pink nipples… fuuuuck, baby. All I can think about is how good they’d look with my handprints tattooed on them after I slap them while you orgasm. Can’t stop thinking about how wet your little pussy must get. How tight she would be around my fingers as I claim her as mine. How fucking delicious she must taste. How goddamn sexy your cries of pain and pleasure would sound.”

Your whole body shudders against his. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you and he knows he needs to stop before he crosses a line, but the way your body responds to him is precisely how he likes it: pliant and ready. His mind reels with all the naughty things he’d like to do to you. If he reaches just a little bit higher he could finally know how you sound when you come, how silky your cunt is, how you taste. He runs the tip of his hooked nose down your neck, the light citrus of your perfume replacing the scent of your shampoo. 

“That what you wanna hear?” Joel continues. “How fucking weak you make me? How desperate? I can’t do this because once I start…I ain’t gonna be able to let you go. Ain’t gonna be able to stop. Never gonna be able to have any other little play thing. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. If I start this, this is it for me.”

Joel releases your wrists with a growl and walks away, carding his fingers through his curls and looking out at the cityscape as the sun begins to dip behind the tall buildings. He doesn’t look back, he can’t look back or he’ll fucking crack. He’ll haul you over his shoulder and take you into his club. He’ll show you everything right now and he won’t stop. His eyes flutter closed as he takes controlled breaths to slow his heart rate, the unmistakable sound of his office door opening and closing behind him. 

You 

You yank the door open and walk as fast as your legs will take you, your mind swirling, every emotion trying to win for first place. You’re painfully turned on, you can feel how soaked your panties are. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. It’s like it’s been carved into your brain. Only you. You jam at the elevator close button as your lungs scream for fresh air, and as you step out into the warm spring night you suck in breath for what feels like the first time since you made this appointment last night. 

Your phone vibrates in the small purse you have across your body. He doesn’t have your number, you remind yourself as you reach for your phone. Jamie’s name across your slightly cracked screen. “Hey!” 

“Are you ok?” her voice is thick with concern.

Your chest feels tight, “Ya, why?”

“You sound like you're out of breath.” 

You laugh a little, “Oh. I was..” fuck, what was I doing. “I mean I am walking. Like on a walk.” 

Even a toddler wouldn’t be convinced by your lie, and Jamie isn’t either as she gasps loudly on the other end before whispering, “Were you having sex?”

“No! God no!” Your clit twitches at the thought of how close Joel was today. “I’m on the street, can’t you hear the cars.” 

“Ok. You do need some sex though,” she laughs. 

“Jamie,” you sigh, “I have to get to a study group. What’s up?” 

She giggles devilishly. “Wellll - It’s your birthday weekend. I want to throw you a party at this really amazing club on Friday.”

“Umm, ya. Sure. Nothing too crazy though, right?” 

“Promise you can keep your top on this time, prude.” She says teasingly and you laugh. “It’s called Mystique. The owner is an old family friend and she gave us a sweet VIP booth and bottle service, all completely free!”

You slide your key into the door of your SUV to unlock it, “Ok. Let’s do it.”

“Good, because I already invited the girls.” You sigh and your phone buzzes in your ear as Jamie’s computer dings on the other end. “Oh, weird. Your regular every other Tuesday clean just requested for you to go on Friday. Weren’t you just there yesterday?” 

Joel. You say dreamily in your mind. 

“That’s shitty,” Jamie continues, “That’s your birthday. The shift is only 4 hours, but I can offer it to someone else if you want.” 

“No!” It comes out too eager and you remind yourself to chill the fuck out as you put her on speaker phone and open the app. “I mean, no, that’s ok. I need the money and my calendar shows 11 to 3, lots of time to get ready!” 

“Text me when you’re done with your study group and we’ll hammer out the details for Friday night. We didn’t get to celebrate you turning twenty one with your insane schedule -”

“Hey!” You exclaim, pretending to be hurt.

“Ya ya, I know,” her voice an amused sarcasm as she continues, “The master plan to graduate early. Which you did. So can we please make this the best celebration yet?” Even without being able to see your best friend you know she’s dancing excitedly on the balls of her feet while giving big green doe eyes. 

Friday rolls around quickly, and you aren’t sure what you’re looking forward to more; a much needed night out with your girlfriends or the possibility of Joel being home today. You’ve tried not to think about how his body felt against yours, but every few hours you found yourself with your hand between your legs, rubbing tight little circles on your clit until you came to thoughts of him, whispering Mister Miller like a church prayer.  

Pulling up to his house today feels strange. He requested an extra clean this week just minutes after you asked him to teach you how to sub and after finding out that your birthday was today. You haul your stuff into his house, letting out a frustrated sigh when you find it quiet and empty. You click open your app and he’s asking you to dust and vacuum the basement, as well as wipe out the fridge. You look down at the app confused. He’s never asked you to clean the basement, and the fridge? He doesn’t cook. The eleven thousand dollar fridge is basically just a decoration to fill a gap in the countertops. 

You pop in your airpods and head downstairs. The cozy white carpet of the stairs feels like plush clouds under your Keds. As you round the corner of the stairs you see everything that makes someone's house a home. So this is where he keeps it all, you think to yourself. 

The short hallway from the stairs to the large open concept basement is covered in photos of Joel at all stages of his life. The first picture that catches your eye is a teenage baby faced Joel and a beautiful young woman sitting on a hospital bed, she’s smiling at the camera as Joel looks down at the tiny bundle of pink blankets in her arms. He looks so happy and soft, and it ignites a small flame of jealousy. Not at the woman, but at the happy little family.

As your eyes scan all the pictures you see that baby at all ages. There’s a picture of her holding a trophy as big as her with little cleats and shin guards on. In another, she and Joel are holding a big fish, her toothless smile bright and brilliant, while something in Joel’s eyes looks sad even though his plush lips are curved up in a sexy smile. 

Another picture is of the little girl sitting on her mom’s lap; the woman doesn’t seem as vibrant in this picture. The next one to catch your eye is her holding a cupcake with a candle in the shape of the number sixteen, then him in a pressed black suit and her in her high school cap and gown. The last picture is similar, except it’s a college graduation photo. 

As you peel yourself away from all the pictures you haven’t managed to look at yet, you face the main living area, a large open concept space. There’s a cozy grey sectional facing the big screen TV, shelves of DVDs surround it and you can only imagine all the movie nights the two of them had down here. There's a pool table along the far back right side of the room and to the left are a bunch of guitars, both acoustic and electric, hanging on the wall. You walk towards the guitars, there’s a stool and a small table beside the amp. An open notebook with lyrics lays on the table and as tempting as it is to read it, you look away. This space is who Joel is and he’s obviously trusting or testing you by sending you down here. He did tell you that you didn’t know him, and that he could be a bad guy, but everything here screams wholesome family man. 

You dust and vacuum, then fluff the couch cushions and fold the blankets nicely. There’s an empty glass on the side table, so you grab that and wash it at the small wet bar before placing it with the other glasses. You take one last longing look at the notebook, it’s tempting but decide you are right to not read it. It’s none of your business what he writes and sings about. You picture him there, dressed casually in sweat pants and t-shirt, his large fingers plucking with a practiced finesse at the strings, you wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the floor with a cup of coffee and a book. The two of you being independently together on a Sunday morning. 

Thoughts of the two of you like that are dangerous; being his submissive isn’t being his girlfriend. You’ve been very good at compartmentalizing, mostly as a coping mechanism to your past, so you find a metaphorical little box in the back of your mind to stuff all those feelings and thoughts into. As you gather your cleaning supplies, you take one last look around. maybe this was his way of showing you that you can’t have a future with him, that he’s done with the kids-and-marriage part of his life. None of that matters to you; you don’t want kids and marriage, you just want a partnership, and the support and comfort that comes with it. You want to become a lawyer, and eventually a judge, and one day sit on the supreme court and defend everyone's civil and human rights. That’s the goal, the only goal.  

From this point on, any feelings for Joel Miller go in that box. If he ever changes his mind, he is my dominant and nothing else. You push the lid on the feelings box and run through your life plan as you head up the stairs. Law school and lawyer, then a relationship before judge and supreme court. That’s the plan, it’s always been the plan.

Once you’re in the kitchen, you pop open the fridge to see a single red rose. You lose a fighting battle with your face, smiling huge from ear to ear. You grab it and close the now empty fridge, bringing the rose to your nose to breathe in the sweet and powdery scent. The black and red envelope sits on the shiny marble countertop. You place the rose down and pop open the envelope. You pull out fifteen hundred dollars and a black business card. Your brows knit together as you inspect the card, flipping it over. A QR code for the JMK app, an activation code, and a note that says “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.” 

You practically rip your phone from your back pocket and scan the QR code. You dance nervously on the balls of your feet as the app downloads. With shaky fingers you create a username and password, then type in the activation code. A bunch of permissions pop up, and while the baby lawyer inside of you screams that you need to read them, you’re too eager, so you hastily click accept on all of them. A profile with your newly appointed username splays across the screen. Right below your name it says “Beginner Submissive” and you roll your eyes. You upload the hottest selfie you can find of yourself to be your profile picture, smirking at what you imagine Joel’s reaction will be when he sees you in that tight fitting gold dress, a picture Jamie took of you on New Year’s Eve. 

On the top right of your screen are 3 little lines, you open the menu and have two options. ‘Assigned Dominant’ and ‘Limits and Waivers’. You are eager to fill out whatever Joel wants on this app, but none of this will feel real to you until you see his name as your Dom. You giggle as you click the first menu. Holy shit, you think as the new window loads, this is going to happen, he’s going to do it. 

Your heart freezes in your chest, and every ounce of excitement and happiness drains from you as you read ‘Assigned Dominant: Tommy Miller’.

When you get home, you open your JMK app again, looking at the assigned dominant screen in hopes you made a mistake. But there it is, clear as day, ‘Tommy Miller’. You lock your phone in frustration and toss it onto your unmade bed. Why would he do this? You’re sure that everything in the limits and waivers menu would have been a yes if Joel was your dom. But Tommy? Not that there’s anything physically wrong with Tommy. He’s definitely attractive, but he’s not Joel and you thought you made that perfectly clear. 

After you shower you've decided you’ve cooled off enough to continue in the app. Tommy is still not Joel, but you want this for yourself, right? And it’s not about pleasure or attraction, it’s about the escape, and more importantly, it’s about having someone to push you and help you grow.    

You click the ‘Limits and Waivers’ menu, a whole quiz comes up where you can rate your interest in different sexual and non sexual acts on a scale of one to five, and secondary checkmark if you’ve already done those things. You scroll through the list, this would be easy with Joel, all fives, all ‘highly interested’, or so you think. As you scroll through the list you get some real fetish level stuff - diapers, feet, scat play, being hung from hooks. You know enough not to kink shame anyone, but none of that interests you. As such, you rank them as a one, not at all interested.

You scroll back up to fill in all the stuff you’re more interested in. 

Spanking, five. 

Whips and Crops, five. 

Paddles, five. 

Nipple Clamps, five, fucking five hundred at this point. 

Bondage, another five hundred. Vibrators, five. 

Butt Plug, three - ya, that one surprised even yourself, but it’s Tommy, not Joel. 

The little box to click if you’ve done those things remains unchecked. You aren’t a virgin, but the small handful of college boys you’ve entertained had the same two or three moves, all of which left you unsatisfied. 

Odette bangs on your door, and you jump as your phone goes flying from your hand as she barges in. “Let’s get ready! Repeat twenty one, baby!”

You scramble off your bed to grab your phone before she does, one of your hands in a death grip on your towel, “Fuck, you scared the shit outta me.”

“Oh god, you were watching porn again weren’t you?” She laughs as your cheeks flush crimson. She wanders to your closet and opens the doors, “We gotta find you something real hot for tonight, you need to get laid.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you sing nonchalantly, wandering to your vanity to run a brush through your wet hair.

A few hours later and you’re all ready to go. Jamie and Laren came over to pre-drink and do their hair and make up. The four of you blasted nineties Shania Twain while drinking rosé and doing shots of cheap tequila. You pick a floor length black dress with a slit that goes almost to your hip and drips low between your breasts and leaves your back bare. You leave your hair down, curling it loosely before applying minimal makeup, flirty false lashes and a vibrant matte red lipstick. The packaging says that it's guaranteed not to smudge for up to twelve hours. 

“We’ll test that tonight on drinks and men,” Laren says as she steals it from your hand and puts it on her full, pouty lips.

Jamie surprises you with a limo. Before getting in you swipe your JMK app open and save your half-finished preferences. Tonight is not about Joel or Tommy; tonight is about you, and you deserve to be celebrated.

The table Jamie managed to secure for your birthday is perfect. You’re just off the dance floor, but raised up so that you can see the entire club. The music is loud and the room is dark, dimly lit with light pinks and purples. As you settle into the booth a young icy haired blonde girl in small black shorts and a lacy bra wanders in. “Hey babes! I’m Jade, let’s get these bottles going! Here’s the menu.”

Her eyes fall to you as she hands the bottle service menu and you both freeze. It’s her, the girl from Joel’s desk. The thump of the music fades and all you can hear is her moans and cries, the squelching of her pussy as Joel finger fucked her hard and deep. Shit, fuck, why me. She smiles at you, “Oh hey! Good to see you again.”

A chorus of, ‘again?’ and ‘how do you know each other?’ comes from your friends, all of their wide eyes staring at you.

“We don’t really,” you rush. “Just a mutual acquaintance really.”

Luckily, she gets the hint and just nods along. “What are we getting to drink ladies? I’ve heard it’s on the house so pick something expensive!”

You pick a bottle of Clase Azul tequila, Jade saying she can make different cocktails with it so you’re not all just doing shots. After a few rounds you find yourself alone in the booth while your friends go to the bathroom. Jade sits on the black leather seat beside you. 

“Look, I just want to say that I’m sorry for what you saw the other week. Joel sort of forbade me from seeking you out, but if you’re in my section at the club I work at then I’m not really breaking any rules.” She’s even more beautiful up close, no fucking wonder Joel wants to give you to Tommy. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. But you see it now, why he’d pass you along. You can’t compete with a woman like her, and from the sounds of it Joel has more than one gorgeous, tall, slender blonde at his beck and call. 

“No, it’s ok. I’m actually learning to be a sub soon.” You smile at her, trying to tamp down the jealousy that’s threatening to choke you.

“No way! Joel is amazing, I only see him like once a month now but you’re going to love it.” Suddenly your entire body feels like an open wound, and the lime and salt left on your hands from tequila shots burns through you. The back of your eyes burn, frustration and jealousy don’t mix well with Rosé and tequila. You blink a few times to stop the tears. 

“He actually set me up with Tommy,” you croak, “Said I’m more his type.”

Just as she opens her perfect pink lips you hear the unmistakable opening to your all time favourite Shania Twain song, and as if your friends appeared from thin air the four of you yell, “Let’s go girls!”. The icy blonde pats the top of the table in your booth with one hand and holds her other hand out for yours. You climb up onto the table, your friends getting on the chairs. 

Every insecurity dissipates from your body as you sing loudly with your friends, swaying your hips to the music. You surrender yourself to the genius that was Shania Twain and Mutt Lange. As you break into the chorus for a second time, a glint of silver across the club catches your eye. Standing on the other side of the dancefloor, leaning against the bar top, is Joel Miller. 

His eyes are locked on yours; he’s wearing brown dress pants and a white short sleeved button up shirt, the top few buttons are left undone and it pulls at his biceps perfectly. He looks so sexy and casual, hair pushed back as he swirls the amber coloured whiskey around in its glass. He smiles devilishly, shaking his head jovially at you as you put on a show for him. As the song ends he crooks his pointer and middle fingers at you, silently calling you over. The simple motion of his fingers makes your pussy flutter, wetness slicking your thighs since you decided to forgo underwear tonight. Risky choice with the high slit of the skirt but suddenly it’s feeling like it’s the best decision you’ve ever made.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper to your girlfriends as they help you off the table. They call for more shots and you refrain from all out sprinting to Joel. 

“Quite the show you put on up there,” he says, grabbing your bicep like he did at the poker game and pulling you gently along with him.

“You didn’t seem to mind.” You twist your arm out of his grasp and stumble. You’re definitely well on your way to being drunk, but you don’t want him to know that.

He grabs for your waist to steady you. “Careful, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not. And even if I was, I’m celebrating, so I’m allowed to be drunk. Not allowed to be your sub, but allowed to be drunk.” His eyes darken and you know you’ve crossed some sort of undrawn line, but you’re at that reckless sass point in your tipsiness and you really don’t care. A saccharine sweet smile crosses your face as you plant your hands on your hips.

“You sure you wanna play this game, sweetheart?” He practically growls.

“I’m not your sweetheart, I’m Tommy’s,” it comes out poutier than you expect. You spin on the balls of your feet and head back to the dance floor. As always, you can feel his eyes on you as you walk away. When you approach the dance floor you see a handsome man about your age looking at you. A quick glance over your shoulder confirms Joel is watching, you grab the hand of the stranger and say, “Let’s dance.”

As all young, drunk boys do, he obliges. You spin and press your back in this body, grinding your ass into him and keeping your eyes locked on Joel. How did he find you here? Why would he be out at this particular club, unless of course he’s keeping an eye on the icy blonde woman. She confirmed they only see each other once a month though, so why? Is he following you somehow?

The boy's hands move to your hips, traveling up your abdomen. You wink at Joel, pulling your hair to the side and tilting your head so the boy behind you has access to the same spot on your neck that he had in his office. Just as his lips start to lower Joel snaps. Got him, you think. He takes a few long strides onto the dance floor, pulling you away like you’re some sort of toy, like he’s a caveman coming to take what’s his. You let him pull you, yelling an apology to the boy on the dance floor.

Even though you’re happy to go with him, you can’t let him know that. “Joel, stop it. You can’t kick me out of here too.”

He takes you down a quiet, dark hallway, barely illuminated by the red glow of the EXIT sign. “I own half this place, baby. So I can.”

You twist your arm free from his grip, “You’re the bane of my existence, Joel Miller.”

“Why haven’t you filled out your app yet?”

You scoff, anger and annoyance starting to replace the happy feeling you had when he pulled you from the dance floor. “Are you stalking me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Doms can see where their subs are at all times if they accept the location tracker on the app.”

Shit, all those menus that you just clicked ‘Accept All’ to at the beginning. Of course your dom would be able to find you, depending on the relationship they can control everything you do. “You’re not my dom!” You state.

Joel rolls his eyes. “I know. Tommy told me you hadn’t filled it all out yet and where you were. So, why haven’t you filled out the app?”

You lean back on the railing along the wall and slide your feet from your heels, placing them on the cool tile of the floor to soothe the ache in your arches. Your hands come back to grip the railing. “It’s none of your business.”

“Sweet girl, in this case it literally is my business. The JM stands for Joel Miller.”

This time you roll your eyes and then mumble, “Because I don’t want Tommy. I don’t think I’m going to fill it out anymore.”

Joel leans back against the railing across the small hall from you, pinching the bridge of his noise in annoyance, “Please. For me, can you just fill it out?”

“For you? You made it clear you don't want me. I’m filling it out for Tommy.”

He crosses his arms, biceps bulging even more against the tight fabric of his short sleeved button up, if he’s not careful he’s going to go full incredible hulk on that shirt. Not that you’d mind.

“That’s not what I’m sayin’ and that’s also where you’re wrong. You’re fillin’ that out for you. If you’re fillin’ it out for anyone else, then you’re doing this for the wrong reasons.”

You let out an unimpressed sounding huff, “I’m not.”

His lips press into a tight line as he considers his words carefully; Joel is old enough to know not to argue with a twenty-one year old who’s had tequila. “Ok, you’re not. So then why do you want to be a sub?”

He watches as your whole body seems to deflate, there’s a shift, almost like desperation in your body. Sadness lines your eyes as they meet his and your voice comes out small and uncertain. “Because I’m exhausted, Joel. I - I spend all day making decisions, and studying, and learning about civil rights law. I’m always having to come up with a plan A, and B, all the way to plan Z sometimes. And then,” your head falls back to the wall as you continue speaking to the ceiling with your eyes closed, “Then I do it all over again the next day. I can’t shut it off, my brain. It just keeps going and going. It's so loud, so constant, so fucking overwhelming and there’s no escape.”

You fall silent and he steps forward, slipping his large hand behind your neck and bringing your gaze to his. You continue, fighting against the boulder that’s forming in your throat, “I don’t think I’m good enough. Or strong enough…Smart enough. I want to see for once that I am, want to see what I can overcome. For once,” you sigh heavily. “For once I just want someone to tell me how well I’m doing.”

Joel’s eyes fall to your lips, his voice a hoarse whisper, “Fill out the app.”

You take a deep breath. You feel lighter after finally getting to confessing all of that to him. That was your plan for his office the other day, but something about him flusters you and you were completely knocked off the rails by that special unknown thing Joel has over you. You whisper, “I don’t want to do this with Tommy. Please, Joel.”

Joel’s forehead comes to rest on yours, you can see the golden flecks in his dark eyes at this proximity. He smells like mint, and that same ash and leather from his office the other day. You should ask him right now why he let you in his basement today, but he speaks before you can. “Can you please, just for once, show me that you can listen?”

“Kiss me,” you hum, trailing your hands up his strong arms.

He stiffens under your touch. “What?” he asks dumbfoundedly.

“Kiss me and I’ll go home right now and fill out the app,” you whisper, inching your lips closer to his. 

“You’ll go home, fill out the app, and you will not touch yourself.” It’s not a question, it’s a deep command.

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you say, “What?”

He crowds his body closer to yours, pulling his face back slightly so he can take you all in. You’ve never seen this expression before, that flash of darkness from the first time you called him Mister Miller in your car has permanently etched itself into your mind, but it’s almost like he’s transitioned into full dominant Mister Miller now. “If you want to convince me to be your dom, it’s not going to be through just a kiss. So prove to me that you can listen, prove to me that you can be a good girl. ”

The wetness between your legs starts to coat your thighs at the sound of him asking you to be a good girl. You clench your thighs together as his forehead meets yours again.

He continues, his voice just as commanding, “If I give you this kiss, you’ll go home alone, you will not touch that dripping little cunt, and you will fill out the app.”

Your pussy is throbbing with need. You should have known better than to sass him so hard tonight. Someone as competent and experienced as Joel would know exactly how to punish his sub when they were acting up. You nod your head and hum in agreement to his demands.

“Ask me nicely.” He murmurs.

“P-please…kiss me, Joel.” Butterflies assault  the inside of your stomach.

You didn’t think it was possible, but he manages to crowd you even more, your entire body pressed firmly against his. Every skin cell is screaming for his attention, every nerve firing off signals making you hyper aware of anywhere he’s touching you.

“Ask me again using that name I told you not to call me,” He knows he’s playing with fire, but at this exact moment he doesn’t care, he fucking loves the way his preferred dom name sounds coming off your lips. 

“Kiss me, Mister Miller. Please?” It’s airy and desperate, your knees feel weak below you and it feels as if you can’t get a full breath in. The anticipation is killing you. 

“Why?” he growls. Growing up you were always afraid of dark spaces, but if there were any monsters in this hallway they’d be running scared at the timbre of his voice right now.

Your back arches instinctively into him. You’re safe here, Joel Miller is your safety. “Because I need you, Mister Miller. Please. Just one kiss…then I’ll do anything. I promise. P-please. I need to feel you on me, Mister Miller.”

Joel bends slightly, his hands come to the back of your thighs and he lifts you, slamming you against the wall. You squeal, arms flinging around his neck as your ankles hook around his waist. He pins you to the wall with his hips and lets go of your thighs. Both of you are practically panting, his cock is hard as steel, pressing against his zipper and your bare pussy. Your skirt is covering you from exposing yourself to him but something about the glint in his eye when your bodies connect makes you think he might know you don’t have any panties on. 

His hands peel your arms from around his neck and he pins them with one hand above your head like he did in his office. You whimper and grind your hips against him. His free hand wraps around your throat, holding it gently. 

“No,” he growls and it takes every ounce of self control you have to stop your hips. “Say it again.”

He watches your mouth hungrily as you lick your lips and you fight back a moan. He can feel your pulse firing rapidly under his calloused fingertips. A needy whisper passes your lips, filling the miniscule space left between your bodies. “I need you, Mister Miller. Please kiss me.”

With that he slams his lips against yours. It’s a desperate and heady mess of tongue and teeth, your moans being swallowed by his greedy mouth. You tilt your head to allow him in more. His tongue devours every inch that it can reach. He nips at your bottom lip before diving back in. He takes whatever he wants from you and you let him. For the first time in years your brain is quiet. No anxiety about the quickly approaching LSAT, no thinking of whatever practice question you’re stuck on. That nagging fear of being rejected from all the law schools you’ve applied to goes silent. The worrying voice that tells you you’re not good enough disappears. Everything you are is replaced by whatever Joel gives. 

You grind down onto him as you flick your tongue against his; he’s so rough yet so very soft. His tongue tastes like mint and whiskey. You can feel your orgasm building, it’s going to happen embarrassingly fast at this rate. You feel light headed from lack of oxygen and the slight push of his fingers into the side of your throat. More, more, more, you yell in your head.

Joel breaks the kiss and puts you down on your feet, holding you steady as you find your legs again. His lips are puffy and even though it’s not the time to be thinking of this, you realize there isn’t a single drop of red lipstick on his face, so it really will last twelve hours without smudging. 

His thumb comes to your face, swiping along your bottom lip gently, “Put your number in my phone, sweet girl.”

He holds his brand new iPhone Max out to you and you tap your number in with shaky fingers. He sends a quick text when you hand his phone back and then he kneels in front of you, helping you back into your heels. As he stands his hand trails from your ankle, all the way up the slit of your skirt to settle on your clothed hip. “Go get your stuff and go home now, baby. There’ll be a car waiting for you out front.”

He pats your bum gently as you walk on shaky legs back to your VIP booth. You feel like a newborn giraffe as you make your way to your table. 

“Where have you been?” Jamie proclaims, holding up a tequila shot for you.

You wave her off, “I think I’ve had too much. I’m gonna go but I want you girls to stay. Enjoy your night for me.”

It takes a few minutes but you convince your friends to stay and that you’ll be fine and already have a ride arranged. As you exit the club there’s a gorgeous blacked out town car parked in front. An older gentleman in a suit looks at you and nods, “Good Evening, Miss. Are you the young lady Joel Miller has asked me to escort home?”

You nod back, trying to act like this is an everyday occurrence and not the most outrageous thing that’s ever happened to you. As soon as you get home you change into your most unflattering set of pajamas, hoping that if you feel unsexy then it’ll stop that insistent throb between your thighs. Joel was so fucking close again, and this time there was no underwear in his way.

You slide open the app, Tommy Miller is still set as your dom, but you go through the preferences carefully and answer as honestly as possible as to what you want. You try to focus on the questions even though you can still feel Joel's throbbing cock pushing against you, and his warm hands around your wrists and throat. You can still taste him on your lips. You shake the ghost of him off of you and remind yourself again what you want from this, aside from mind-blowing orgasms. 

You fill out every section and then hit save. Just as you are about to lock your phone and try to fall asleep your phone vibrates, the JMK app as a notification.

‘Your Assigned Dominant has changed to Joel Miller’

Your heart pounds behind your rib cage as you stare at the notification, your head feels fuzzy, possibly from the booze, or that kiss, but you can’t believe your eyes. You close out of the app and go back in, staring at where Joel’s name has replaced Tommy’s. Just as it all starts to feel real you get a text message from a number you don’t have saved. You click on the message app.

“No coming until I say so, I know you weren’t wearing any panties tonight. Messy little pussy ruined my pants. Go to sleep now, my sweet girl.”

Next Chapter

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The PledgeManager has launched!

Thank you for bearing with us. We’re happy to say that, as promised, the PledgeManager has officially launched!

In case you missed it, we detailed earlier this week that the publication of the graphic novel has been pushed back from its original July 2024 estimate into Spring 2025 - you can read the full update here. We also want to take a moment to say that we have seen the outpouring of love and support on Kickstarter, and across various platforms, wishing Colleen well in her recovery and the time needed for the graphic novel - a huge thank you from all of the team for your understanding and patience, and for the genuine community and care we’ve seen these past few days. We appreciate you all.

PledgeManager

With this in mind, we think it’s important to underline: though PledgeManager has launched, you do not need to pay for your shipping fees immediately.

The PledgeManager is there for those who missed the campaign to order the graphic novel, and indeed for any backers who would like to upgrade, get some other add-ons, or the new items. You, as a pre-existing backer, should receive an email with information via Kickstarter and/or PledgeManager to inform you that this is now open to you - note, these are sent in waves of smaller batches, so if you don't get yours immediately, don't panic! It will likely take between 12-18 hours to process all the backers.

You are, of course, welcome to pay your shipping right away if you'd like, however we completely understand that you may want to wait until closer to the fulfilment time, or when more solid dates are confirmed, before actioning this.

For this stage, we have compiled a quick FAQ below covering some key questions:

Will the whole project be moving from Kickstarter to PledgeManager? No. This is just for the fulfilment side and logistics - all updates will still remain here.  

Do PledgeManager backers get everything that Kickstarter backers do? No. While the remaining tiers will be made available for those who missed it, with certain stretch goals (e.g. additions to the book, loot boxes, etc), Kickstarter backers have a number of exclusives such as the Good Omens HQ discount code for when the store launches, and the backers only events.  

My PledgeManager address will be different to what is listed on my Kickstarter. Is that fine? Yes. We are handling all logistics through PledgeManager and, as such, that is the only place where we will need your address. If you move or need to change any details, that will be the place to do so.  

Can I change my address? Yes. You can update your address until we are at the shipping stage. We will keep this option open for as long as possible to ensure maximum flexibility around this.  

How are shipping fees calculated? It is based on both weight and the country it is being sent to. We have been working over the past months to streamline processes and bring the costs down from their original starting point.  

Do I have to pay just now? You do not need to pay immediately, but payment will need to be made prior to your items being shipped. You now have a bigger window during which you can make payment. As above, we will keep updating you on the progression of the publication schedule, should you be waiting for firmer dates before doing so.  

What about taxes and import duty? UK: VAT is included in the costs UK backers pay, there should be no extra tax charges. US: We believe (but cannot guarantee) that imports under $800USD in value should not attract import duty, those pledges above may be taxed at import. EU & REST OF THE WORLD: If taxes or duties apply to your pledge, these will need to be paid at time of import into your country. We’ve spent months trying to integrate the costs at this stage, but in having the project open across the globe, it has proven too complex to be able to fully refine and cover all instances and locations, and we’ve been advised that this is the best route forward.  We know a lot of international backers, particularly in the EU – for example – will already be used to this process, and we will keep you all updated on any developments on this front. For all of our backers, we are working hard to make labelling and declaring all of the contents of your pledges as transparent as possible, in order to make taxing and importing as easy and affordable as possible.  

I want to buy the new items, but am waiting to pay shipping. Are they limited? The pins, mugs, notebooks - all the new items specifically added to the PledgeManager are not limited and will be available regardless of whether you get them now, or months down the road. The only limited items are the remaining tiers that have moved over from the Kickstarter (e.g. the Obsidian Tier) that were limited to begin with, and a very limited run of the Alien Parking ticket. Everything else is fully available, in perpetuity.  

Will you be adding extra items to the PledgeManager? No. What is there at launch is all we plan to include at this point - any new items afterwards will instead originate via the Good Omens HQ store.  

Will Kickstarter backers get items first? Yes. We will have a staggered approach for fulfilment: Kickstarter backers, then PledgeManager, then everything that is moving to the Good Omens HQ store will subsequently be made available.

You can also view the more general PledgeManager FAQ at terrypratchett.com.

We will keep PledgeManager and logistical notes present in all the monthly updates going forward, but felt this warranted a dedicated one-off. 

These are available as part of the PledgeManager. Another beauty from our pin designer, Carl Sutton.

Thanks again for your patience. Back in the April monthly update.

In short: :)

The Good Omens Pledge Manager has launched:

those who missed the Graphic Novel Kickstarter: Now you can order the Graphic novel, not all things that were in the original Kicstarter are available but there is stil a lot of options and fuckton of lovely ineffable add-ons! :)<3

those who participated inthe original GO GN Kickstarter: you should an email (Dunmanifestin needs more information to fulfill your reward) with a link that logs you (if not log manually) into the pledgemanager and lets you edit the order (add new add ons) (yep, my wallet weeps :D<3)

The addons:

I mean... how can one resist for example these I do not know... :D

[abimee]

hi i can no longer act coy or hope that a job will come in time so im coming to everyone really embarassingly with my issues

in June I attempted to get fired from/left my job after having a really embarassing public meltdown due to having Rapid-Cycling Mixed Bipolar and the unending stress of that job of 3+ years. I've been struggling to get a job afterwards due to being in CA without a vehicle, and i'm currently working on an overdue commission so could not open up any more.

Soon after, my mother's car imploded, and a series of incidents related to a used engine and taking out a loan with a friend has left her both needing to pay back the loan and still needing to get a new car, putting her thousands in the hole.

my mother has allowed me to not worry about paying rent while unemployed, but now the person living with us is moving out, so it will be on me and my mother to pay rent, upping mine from $300 to $500 a month. I am currently job hunting with good prospects, but I am still in need of some assistance.

I DO NOT WANT TO ASK FOR DONATIONS WITHOUT GIVING SOMETHING IN RETURN, I have a very bad time taking help from people without doing something in return because I do not want people to feel like they Have to give me money or help me, I want to Offer something in return for that money, even in a situation like this, because I want everyone to come out on the other end feeling fulfilled, so I'm offering some (slow) cheaper commissions I can work on in between the bigger comm I owe.

My kofi is always open for donation sketches ---- you can donate the minimum amount (or whatever you prefer) and get a drawing like this of anything as long as you put it into the donation message!

i cant currently take on big commissions as I have one i owe and the commissioner is a very generous person who has been waiting a good few months for me to finish one during this hectic time, but if you're interested in getting something a little higher quality for a donation, a $30-50 USD donation can get you a ''simple commission'' styled drawing --- that is, you give me a prompt and character refferences (ocs or fanart, up to 2-3 characters depending on complexity), and I draw them like below (color complexity depends on price, the higher the amount the more the color).

You wont have access to revisions to make this as fast as possible, so i HIGHLY reccomend only getting fanart comms of these and to make sure you really like my style!!

this is one of those situations where I DEEPLY reccomend people do not donate unless they want something in return, if you dont wanna ask for a drawing or anything i reccomend going to people in more dire circumstances and helping them out with your donation!!!

but if you want to help me help my mother get out of a bad financial situation and get a little drawing in return, you can do a small dono and att a message of what you want doodled, or you can email me at cyrdrawings@gmail.com your $30-50 donation reciept and what you would like me to draw, and ill try to get them as soon as I can

thank you so much for checking this post out and keep it real old school!!!!! i promise once this is over and i get a job we'll be back to your regularly scheduled art posting

[EDIT: PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG THIS VERSION. I AM NO LONGER TAKING THE SIMPLE COMMISSION TIER. REBLOG THE ADDITION TO THIS POST GIVING AN UPDATE]

[amywritesthings]

writers! do not! owe you! updates!

this is not tiktok. we are not content mills. we are posting our stories -- oftentimes short story or novel-length -- for FREE.

free. adverb / without cost or payment.

you get these stories (not content, they are actual stories people write out of their own blood, sweat, and tears) without having to pay a singular fee or monetary transaction. these authors often have day jobs or university or both. they even have families! children! pets! social lives! if we have other things going on or simply do not have the brain power, then we do not owe you our time nor our energy for updating our stories or wips or ideas we throw onto the dash or ao3.

i am fortunate that i haven't gotten a demanding anon in a minute, but i am so sick of watching my mutual writers get harassed about their update schedules. the ironic part is that you're only making us not want to write said update when you demand more. not ask, not hope, but demand.

learn some empathy, and above all else: learn to be less of an anonymous coward demanding someone's free time for yourself.

[pumpkinsouppe]

Happy dunmeshi Thursday!! As promised I finally finished this piece jfdksl

As an extra special surprise im actually going to be selling this as 3.25” stickers on my shop 🤭 the plan was to originally open up with physical merch in February but due to a surgery schedule i think im gonna open up with digital merch in February and physical merch in March!

If you want updates for when I open the shop I hope to regularly have updates on my kofi! I have another dunmeshi sticker I plan to post next Thursday!

[dlxxv-vetted-donations]

Vet link | Gfm: PayPal, Venmo, Google Pay, credit/debit

A great thank you to everyone who pulled together for @dev-tawfik and his family on short notice to buy them food. We hit $7,230 today.

Unfortunately, we now need to focus on his international student fees which we're running a bit of a tight schedule on. I'm also not online for most of today and at the time I write this, Tawfik hasn't made a new post. Also, I've yet to discuss the goal and deadline with him.

Please check Tawfik's account for updates today. We need roughly $200 daily, so donations are very appreciated.

[sharkieboi]

turned out to be the most uselessly expensive eye doctor appointment ever

eye doctor today is definitely going to be “wtf you have All the eye problems” and i am prepared for this but it will be no less shameful

[lacunasbalustrade]

@melting-morning-blues my rambles and sending you strength in case your exams are still on!!!

on an adventure today! i finished my exams this morning and im going to pick up three items free - a guitar, a sweater, and a shirt! (discovered them on an online freecycle app. there was also a drum kit but no too much even for me. drums guitar and piano? yeah right that's a death wish im not a one-man-band. although I think yuga could probably pull it off)

as expected i got lost immediately fr since i set out from my school neighborhood (which is basically unknown to me + the fact that I rarely go anywhere) but after asking for directions from a bicycling primary schooler I've managed to make it to my first stop-

chua chu kang for the guitar! im waiting for the kind donor at the void deck now! will update with pics. i expect to be waiting 20 min or so because I reached a little early, and I don't think she's checking her phone...but it's a nice break all the same. from walking. I should have bought McDonald's to eat along the way I'm starving.

note to self: do that tomorrow (I've scheduled pickups for tomorrow and the day after also, just because 'omg they're giving away real leather shoes?!!! '

trying not to be greedy - the kind of greedy where you see treasure on a treasure map and decide mwahahaha I must have it, so I'm going to leave off on the collections for a while after the scheduled pickups and make sure to donate back an equal amount. i have too many outgrown clothes anyway (this is the consequences of being sentimental) ¯⁠\⁠_⁠༼⁠ ⁠ಥ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠ಥ⁠ ⁠༽⁠_⁠/⁠¯

i think like there's also this awesome 'fashion pulpit' shop in Singapore where you can swap old clothes for new, but there's a monthly membership fee so no go, Romeo.

@maou-the-tree & @thehistorynut19 I thought u guys might be interested in hearing about it!! & the app (olio) is available in America too I think if you want to bless-give or get anything free!

[boxboxblog]

In Depth: Liberty Media Acquisition

Hello, this post is a response to an ask about what changed in F1 after Liberty Media took over. Great ask, let's dive in.

So in early 2017 the F1 world went through a massive change when it was announced that Liberty Media (LM), an American mass media company, would be taking over. This was an $8 billion acquisition, and they purchased it from Delta Topco, another US company, which was in large part owned by Bernie Ecclestone. The biggest management changes right away were that Ecclestone stepped aside as manager and Chase Carey became the new CEO. Also, Ross Brawn returned to F1 to manage the sporting and technical aspects.

But other than administration, what else changed in F1?

Business Strategy

So, one off the major things LM set out to do was really bring F1 into the digital age. Up until that point F1 had been rather slow to get involved with social media and streaming platforms, but LM knew that modern popularity would stem from there. So they started having a presence on Twitter, Instagram, YouTube, etc. They launched F1TV, a streaming service for all content. They created an app dedicated to news, updates, and tracking standings. All of this helped bring more attention into F1.

Another part of their new strategy was increased fan engagement. Previously the barrier between fan and paddock was much stronger. But LM introduced things like fan festivals, grid-walks, behind-the-scenes content, and other such fan-focused content. They wanted the sport to be extremely accessible to fans, as this is what the younger generation often expects. Nowadays fans can pay to be in the paddock even, or take a tour of a team's garage and see their car's. While the previous management sometimes had special events like this, LM took it to another level.

The final major business strategy that they changed was their sponsorship connections. They renegotiated a lot of the old deals and changed revenue sharing model to get the smaller teams a larger chunk of the sponsorship pie. The goal of this was to make F1 more competitive, as fans tend to not enjoy complete dominance very much. They also connected with some more modern and new sponsors, where previously F1 tended to stick with the old. This allowed them to reach a newer demographic.

Regulations

So, when LM took over they brought with them sweeping regulation changes, but of the major ones started to get introduced only recently in 2021. The biggest of this was the budget cap that was introduced for teams. This limited how much each team could spend per season, also in an efforts to level the playing field. One of the other major changes introduced in 2021 was the car design overhaul. The aerodynamics of an F1 car were changed significantly in order to make overtaking a little easier. As always, this was to make races more exciting.

Beyond those regulations, LM also altered how race weekends worked. They added sprint racing on certain weekend starting 2021, in an effort to make championships tighter and draw more public attention with faster and more eventful races. While the basics of the weekends stayed the same, tighter media scheduling was added in as well and they shifted some race times around to suit a more global audience.

Race Calendar

LM also altered the race calendar when they bought F1. As an American company, it was clear that their major goal was to expand F1 in the US. So US races were brought back, with Miami, Austin, and Vegas being added to the calendar. They also added a lot more races in previously untapped markets like Saudi Arabia and Qatar. While the push was mostly led by a wish for globalization, it also has to do with increasing revenue through hosting fees.

Environmental Concerns

One of the hottest topics in F1 is the environmental concerns that the constant racing creates. This led LM to set a goal to be carbon neutral by 2030. As of right now, they are still working on innovating more sustainable fuel, hybrid engine development, and reducing the sport's overall carbon footprint. This stems from a wish to align F1 with the rising trend of sustainability, making it more attractive to more sponsors and fans.

Audience

Of course you cannot mention the LM changes without mentioning the audience changes. Since 2017, F1 has exploded in popularity. efforts to raise global popularity have worked, and especially in the US F1 is becoming a popular sport. A lot of this stems from their increased presence globally, but a large chunk is from the amount of access LM has given fans. One of those major things was the Netflix docuseries Drive to Survive, which started its first season in 2018. While a bit of a controversial show, it gained an absolutely massive amount of attention, especially among younger American demographics, and led to F1 kind of explode in recent years.The previous demographic for F1 tended to lean more on the older side, to they really opened the doors when they gained this much younger audience.

Alright, so those are the major changes that occurred when Liberty Media took over. At the core F1 is still the same, but this acquisition definitely launched it into the modern age and is responsible for it's current popularity. I hope I answered any questions.

Cheers,

-B

[degusart]

commission info

Hello all!

If you are interested in commissioning me, feel free to reach out via Discord or Tumblr DMs or Email me at Rileymarepruitt@gmail (dot) com.

All commission slots are served at a first-come-first-serve basis.

TOS under the cut

payment is expected upon delivery of first sketch.  

Seller will not be responsible for loss of product once it has been delivered

Customer has right to reasonable amounts of minor edits after completion (I.E eyecolour change)

Customer can ask for a refund on orders with no progress for two weeks or when work has not been completed within two months after payment.

Customer is required to contact the seller in a fast and responsive manner.

Products cannot be used for commercial use without additional fees.

Seller can cancel and refund any order at any time.

Customer does not hold the right to use the product in any blockchain-related technology, including NFTs, cryptocurrency, or future inventions in the space.

Customer does not hold the right to use the product in any AI-related technology, including submitting for datasets, and any future inventions in the space.

-----

TERMS OF SERVICE LAST UPDATE: 11/01/24: This contract applies to the artist further called Seller and person or institution further called Customer purchasing from Seller a work of art further called Product. By ordering Product from the Seller the Customer agrees to the following terms and conditions:

PAYMENTS

Customer agrees to pay the due amount upfront for any orders of value lower or equal to the amount listed in the invoice. On orders above $200 customer agrees to pay half the invoice total upfront. The other half has to be paid on approval of the initial sketch.

Any other payment schedule has to be mutually agreed before work on the Product commences.

PRODUCT DELIVERY

The customer agrees that the Product will be delivered digitally to email or DM (agreed upon the initial discussion) address provided by the Customer after the final payment has been received by the Seller.

Any other method of delivery, either digital or physical, has to be mutually agreed upon before the work commences. The customer is obliged to bear any costs incurred by alternative delivery methods, such as postal costs, material costs, digital service subscription fees, etc.

It is the sole responsibility of the Customer to propose a delivery method that works for both parties.

Seller cannot be held accountable for Customer's loss of access to the delivery method, loss of delivered files, impediments such as spam filters or any other technical obstacles outside responsibility of the Seller.

Upon delivery of the product, it is the Customer's responsibility to store it properly. Loss of product due to negligence will not be reimbursed by the Seller. Seller can not guarantee that the original copy of the product will be available in the case that the Customer lost their files.

REVISIONS

Customer has right to a reasonable amount of minor edits after completion, such as changing an eye colour or fixing a small detail, up to an additional 10% of the total time spent on creating the originally delivered Product. Any requests above that, however minor, will require a prior mutual agreement and will result in a proportional increase of order value. Any such increase will be invoiced separately. Work on any such excessive requests will not commence until the payment for the additional invoice(s) has been received.

PERSONAL AND COMMERCIAL USE

 The Product received by Customer is for personal use. Any use of the Product for commercial purposes, reselling it, reproduction or publishing for reasons other than personal purposes has to be approved beforehand by the Seller. This will require a separate agreement between Customer and Seller defining exact conditions and financial implications of such use of the Product.

The seller holds the right to use the art in future social media posts and other non-commercial uses. Upon agreement of the commission any tags or information wanted when posting the art must be agreed upon

Customer does not hold the right to use the product in any blockchain-related technology, including NFTs, cryptocurrency, or future inventions in the space.In addition, Customer does not hold the right to use the product for AI datasets or for AI tools and any present or future inventions in the space.

CANCELLATIONS

Seller reserves every right to refuse or cancel any order, under condition of full refund, without giving reasons to Customer.

Any disrespectful behaviour will not be tolerated and may result in a cancellation of the order. Customer will receive full or partial refund depending on amount of work completed. Seller will have full right to refuse any service to the Customer in the future.

[kyojurokoibito]

"With What Time We Have Left"

Pairing(s): kyojuro rengoku x reader

Synopsis/Request :Hi it's me again. Seriously I was beginning to wonder why u disappeared 😢. Enywho can you ignore my recent request and maybe do a kyojuro x reader where reader and him aren't officially a 'couple' (like their still hiding their feelings) but are close friends. Things go fine except that reader finds out she has a heart problem but doesn't tell kyojuro not wanting to burden him. Kyojuro is unaware until he finds ( maybe by mitsuri or Shinobu) out why reader has been avoiding him (heart problem). Then of course our fire baby tells her that he will love her even with a bad heart. Thank you and don't stress urself 💕💕

Genre: angst ->fluff

Warning(s): implied upcoming death, mentions of terminal illness

Kao's Note(s): heyoooo! i love how you're always comin back for requests!💗💗 thank you for your support, and everyone else too! my update schedule is pretty much nonexistent, so thank you for being patient with me! i hope you enjoy!

like i've mentioned before in regards to pining kyojuro, he's so doting and thoughtful

he's always the one who wakes you up, if you're not a morning person. kyojuro will come barreling into your room, sliding your door open with a rumbling, "RISE AND SHINE AND GOOD MORNING TO YOU, Y/N!"

kyojuro will only laugh as you groan before swiftly dodging a pillow your hurled towards him, "too loud and too early..." and you turned over, covering your head with the blanket

the bright hashira merely stepped in your room, sitting by your blanket covered head, "come now, y/n! look," he gently pulled the blanket up slightly before sliding an onigiri underneath. "i brought breakfast for you!"

you swiftly grabbed the onigiri from kyojuro and sat up; the blanket slid off your head, revealing your disheveled bed head as you tiredly chewed the onigiri

"thmmnk you, kyo," you murmured with a mouth full of food before swallowing it. "and good morning."

if you are a morning person, his greeting will be the same: loud, cheerful, and wall shaking. that's just how he is in the morning, except, this time, you match his cheerfulness, "hello, kyo! and good morning to you too!" then, you'd both head down for breakfast with the other hashira and slayers, happily chatting with each other along the way

everyone could tell you were pining for each other

even giyu and master kagaya, one who is extremely horrible at picking up social ques and one who can't even see

the signs are all there: the longing looks you give one another when the other isn't looking, the way kyojuro is always throwing compliments your way, and always touching you in some form(whether that's his shoulder brushing yours when you stand beside each other or an arm wrapped around you during missions for "protection")

it wasn't hard to tell the flame breather was undeniably in love with you

and you weren't any better

the way you sought out kyojuro before anyone else when you needed help, not to mention you know exactly how he prefers his bento boxes before missions and are more than happy to make it for him, or your subtle tugs on his haori whenever you wished for his attention(which he was more than happy to give you)

you were hopelessly in love as well, and rightfully so

if kyojuro were to ever shed tears in front of anyone, it would be—and has been—you.

it was a night where he returned from visiting his father and his little brother, and the former had been in his usual drunken, raging self. but tonight, his words seemed much more hurtful than previous nights

like usual, kyojuro kept his smile for the sake of others, but once he reached the sanctity of his room the tears couldn't stop

you didn't mean to find him in such a sad, vulnerability state, as you only meant to stop to wish him a good night like any other night

but he was grateful it was you of all people, and you held him for hours on end until he went to sleep

not long after that, you had planned on confessing your feelings for kyojuro

you were sure he harbored the same feeling towards you, so you were feeling rather giddy about your confession

until one morning...

you had woken up with a small, sharp pain shooting through the left side of your chest. clutching your chest in pain, your eyebrows furrowed when it was gone as soon as it appeared

it was gone for the rest of the day, so you thought nothing of it

but the pain would shoot through your chest in little bursts before subsiding for the remainder of the day. they'd come first thing in the morning, and later in the afternoon

they never lasted long, so you never really paid it any mind

but as you continued to carry out more missions or train using your total consideration breathing, the pains in your chest began to last much longer

kyojuro is very perspective—especially towards you—and he was quick to take of any subtle changes

the way you began to take quick, short breathes, your shirt–right where your heart resides–is bunched up due to your constant clutching in that area, and the way your brows were furrowed in constant discomfort throughout the day

"y/n," kyojuro called to you one morning, quick to voice his opinion and concerns. "is there something the matter?"

you waved it off, "i'm sure it's just the curry i ate earlier," you smiled, covering up the pain in your chest once more. "it is spicy, you know! i'm sure it'll pass."

kyojuro's lips pressed into a thin line

what you're saying is plausible, of course, but he firmly believes there's somethin else going one. you have been a bit more curry lately...

albeit with heavy doubt, the flame hashira chose to let it go, but he vowed to keep a close eye on you

"thank you, kyo," you proclaimed in gratitude, a broad grin spread across your face as you gave him a thumbs up. "you're always looking out for me!"

he laughed, "of course i do!" it's because i love you, he wanted so badly to say

it wasn't until you were accompanying kyojuro on a mission, did it feel like you took a turn for the worst

the demons you were currently fighting weren't strong by any means, you're both certain any ranked slayer could beat them

but what they lack in strength, they definitely make up for in numbers; that made them out to be worthy opponents without a doubt

as the battle came to an end, and the final demon fell, you and kyojuro ceased your movements. scanning the area in silence searching for anymore lingering demons; you both lowered you blades once you found there were none

"are you alright, kyo?" you quickly made your way to him, examining him closely for any injuries. to which he gave a boisterous laugh, "i am just fine," he eased your worries. "how about you–"

he was cut off by you letting put a painful cry, clutching your chest, kneeling to the ground in pain. "y/n!" kyojuro quickly kneeled next to you, supporting your body against his. "what is wrong?? are you injured?!"

his eyes frantic scanned over your open haori, searching for any blood on your uniform. though he was confused when he found none.

"d-don't...don't worry," you placed a gentle hand on kyojuro's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "i'm alright. i think," you inhaled a shaky breath. "i think i just over did it a little."

kyojuro wrapped a supporting arm around your shoulders, "are you sure? i think you–" you gently rested your palm on the flame hashira's cheek, cutting him off with the best smile you could muster.

"i'm fine, kyojuro."

you put on a brave face for kyojuro in the moment, but you knew...you knew were completely not fine.

after returning from your joint mission, you and kyojuro parted ways. the flame hashira was adamant about remaining with you, wanting to keep you in his field of vision, but it was a challenge to get him to leave you be

"kyo, i can assure you, i'm fine," you let out a sigh as he continued to trail behind you. he persisted, "y/n," he sped up until he was in front of you, placing he hands onto your shoulders, keeping you in place. "something does not seem right. you are sure–undeniably sure–that you feel alright?"

it was difficult

the strength of kyojuro's gaze weighed heavily on you, and it was difficult not to cave beneath it. you held your ground and lightly placed your hands over his, "kyo, i feel just fine." his eyebrows furrowed, "but–"

"no buts," you gingerly removed his hands from your shoulders, sending a smile his way. "i appreciate your concern, truly kyo, but you don't have to worry." you gave a ligh laugh before pivoting on your heels and tugging at you uniform, "now, i'll see you later. i'm going to go clean off this dirt from our mission."

all kyojuro could do is stare after you, a subtle frown tugging down the corners of his mouth

as you disappeared around the corner, you quickly changed your route and made a beeline to shinobu's estate.

for as long as you could remember, you had always had complications with your heart. unfortunately, money was practically nonexistent within your family, so you were never able to obtain an answer to your problem.

your late father had frequent chest pains as well, so you were at least certaint it was hereditary. you and your mother were certain that was the cause of his death, but the cure was unknown, if it even existed.

the smile that you flashed to kyojuro had been wiped away as soon as you turned away from him. the fabric of your uniform that covered your chest was tightly clutched tightly into your shaking fist.

your balance was off, staggering as you continued your trek to shinobu. the burning pain exploded across your chest, your breath became ragged due to longer breaths causing more pain.

you knew something was wrong.

upon arrival, you were greeted by a bowing aoi, "good afternoon, l/n."

"how many times must i tell you," you took in a sharp breath, causing the girl to instantly raise her head and rushed over to help you. "c-call me y/n."

"come," she said sternly, disregarding your statement. "i will take you to lady shinobu."

"thank you," you smiled weakly. "i was just on my way there."

aoi admired you greatly. you were so strong in her eyes, and the eyes of others, so witnessing you experience such great pain brought a frown to her lips. after watching you effortlessly support others for years, it was hard watching you be the one who was in need of the same support.

but she was happy to offer it to you.

you both neared an examination room, and she aoi sat you down in a haste. "i'll go fetch lady shinobu. i promise to be quick."

she quickly scurried off to find shinobu, not wanting to leave you in this state much longer.

the pain in your chest subsided slightly, allowing you to breathe normally for the time being. a frown tugged your lips downward, remembering these same events happening to your late father.

"oh my," a sudden voice appeared. "aoi was right; you do seem to be in a lot of pain."

you smiled weakly at the insect hashira with a confirming nod, "that, i am. but i do not know why."

shinobu was quick to examine you. placing her hand against your chest, shinobu's eyebrows furrowed at the level of arrhythmia(irregular heartbeat) she felt from your chest. she didn't even need any equipment; she could feel it, and that raised many concerns for her.

she asked for other symptoms you have experienced, and you listed them off: shortness of breath, severe chest pain, nearly painful heartbeat, and irregular heartbeats. total concentration breathing even became excruciating.

"y/n," shinobu looked at you carefully. "has anyone in your family have similarly issues."

"yes," you nodded. "my father did."

she frowned, "you most likely have familial hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. it is a disease that thickens part, or all, of the muscle in the heart." she placed her hand back on your chest, feeling your heartbeat once more. "because you the muscles have thickened so much, it causes your heart to beat much quicker than it should."

"o-oh..." your shoulders dropped as an inquisitive frown took over your features. "i suppose that explains my erratic heartbeat and the pain." shinobu nodded.

"yes, and your shortness of breath, it is due to your left ventricle having less room to hold blood."

mulling over the information you'd received, you connected the dots to your father's sudden death.

"i suppose...that explains why my father's death was so sudden." shinobu solemnly nodded.

"yes, but with you being in such great physical shape, i say you can still live a considerably long life."

"so...there is no cure then." by the way she tried to keep you in a positive mindset, you already knew the answer.

her solemn silence confirmed it.

"all i can do is provide you with this salve," she handed you a small wooden tub. "it will lessen you pain greatly, but...your demon slayer duties must come to an end."

you didn't like that, not at all.

there were people to protect, and not a lot of demon slayers to provide said protection. but...what could you do? the strenuous movement, training, and breathing would only worsen your condition. all you could do was give an understanding nod.

"i understand...th-thank you, kocho."

----

it's only been a few days since your examination, but that's all it took for a certain flame hashira to know something was amiss.

you hadn't accompanied him on any missions, nor have you took on any of your own. no one seemed to more devoted to aiding others than you, so when he heard from a certain medic that your demon slayer days were behind you, he couldn't help but let our a hearty laugh.

"you know how to jest, shinobu!" his shoulders bounced has he laughed before calming down. "now, where is y/n? and please, no jokes this time! i would appreciate a true answer!"

"i'm afraid i am telling the truth, rengoku-san." shinobu answered mournfully as she was wrapping a bandage around an injured hinoto's arm. "she is in no condition to fight any longer."

kyojuro froze.

what did she mean? what had happened to you? were you injured? did something happen on the latest you both went on? you said you were fine, but were you lying? are you in critical condition? and...why didn't you tell him.

"why...what happened? is she here? in your estate?" kyojuro was prepared to hear the worst news.

"no," kocho shook her head, finishing the slayer's bandages. "she is within her own estate now, but with her heart condition, she cannot carry out her duties any longer."

kyojuro's face became firm. "what condition?"

her eyebrows furrowed, "she did not tell you?" he shook his head.

and with that, the insect hashira explained everyone. kyojuro clung to every word she said, and his heart plummeted to his stomach. he couldn't fathom you going through so much pain, and all alone no less.

kyojuro gave a firm nod, "thank you, shinobu."

the flame hashira was quick to make it to your estate, his feet carrying him all over the place to find you.

emiko, a little girl girl who assisted you around you estate, called out to him, "rengoku-san!" to which he turned to them, watching as they pointed him to the field of your estate with a beaming grin. "lady y/n is out there! in the garden!"

he gave emiko a grateful smile, ruffling her hair before going in that direction. "much obliged, little one!"

as he hurried outside, desperate to find you, stopping in his tracks once his eyes finally fell over your seated form.

you were draped in your favorite kimono, one that was gifted to you by the flame hashira himself, sipping on the warm tea shinobu had advised you to drink to keep you calm.

you looked so beautiful.

kyojuro calmly made his way to you, trying not to startle, which he did successfully before taking a seat beside you. of course, you knew of his presence before he was seated, but you opted to say nothing. it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him to show up and you both just enjoy the company of one another.

although, this time, you knew something was on his mind.

"kyojuro," you spoke gently. "what's wrong?"

"why didn't you tell me?" his voice was firm, but he wasn't angry. not at you...never at you.

a moment of silence was shared between you, contemplating what to say. you're a smart woman, so you knew what he was referring too.

"i...i didn't want to burden you with this," you looked down at the cup of tea you set on the grass. "you have your own life, your own burdens to carry. i couldn't possibly trouble you with this, especially something that is inevitable."

"my y/n," kyojuro slid closer to you. "you know you could never burden me. not...not when i carry so much love for you."

there it is.

the confession you knew long ago. you weren't blind, and you'd be lying if you say you didn't harbor so much love for him. you loved him so much it was nearly frightening.

you gave a sad smile, "i know you do, kyo. and...i carry much love for you as well, b-but..." your smile slowly vanished from your face, causing kyojuro to tenderly cup your cheek.

"but what," he gently urged. "what is wrong?"

"i couldn't possibly ask you to tie yourself down to me," you shook your head slowly. "not when my time here is uncertain. i...i cannot promise i will be with you in 10 years, 5 years, 3 years, o-or even tomorrow." your lip began to quiver as slow tears fell down your cheeks, and kyojuro gently wiped them away as they fell. "how could i asked you to stick by me, to love me, when it would do nothing but break your heart in the end. that...that would be to selfish of me."

kyojuro understood where you were coming from, but he didn't agree, not in the slightest, and he was determined to make you see that.

"oh, sweet y/n," kyojuro wiped your tears with his thumb. "more than anything–right now–i want you to be selfish right now."

"w-why..." you frowned. "i'm not sure how much longer i have."

"i know that," kyojuro smiled. "that is why i wish to make the rest of your life as joyful as i can. if we are not guaranteed next year, or even tomorrow...let us make today the most memorable day of our lives."

he pulled you into his lap, gently tilting your head up for you to look at him. he gently brought his lips to yours, sealing them in a sweet kiss. his smile couldn't be helped as he felt your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted against him. after slowly parting from one another, kyojuro rested his forehead against yours, bestowing the most loving gaze upon you.

"i promise to give you a lifetime of love with what time we have left."

[parkerlyn]

August 2023

Play The Nameless | Patreon | Discord

Hi again all!!

A short update to kick off the month! I’ve been trying to trudge through the writing I lost in my version control mess, and almost done rewriting that which has been a good moral boost!

I was happy to get a lot of sketching and art done last month too :) In addition to the schedule below, I’ll be posting more WIPs and sketches as they come up on Patreon.

Patreon ICYMI

Last month had the usual unreleased content screenshot, and also had...

Bonus Art: Game night with the Magesmith, the Healer, Eila, and the Alchemist

Bonus Writing: Sage POV on meeting the MC

Bonus Sketches: Sage sketches (18+) and some D&D/TOH fanart

Bonus Sketches: Healer/Magesmith thirst traps (aksjskak)

August Patreon Schedule

Aug 2 - Progress Update | Call for September Art ideas (HS + Sa)

Aug 9 - Monthly Preview Screenshot | September Art poll

Aug 23 -  Bonus Writing: Healer POV, meeting the MC for the first time

Aug 30 -  Bonus Art: RO Outfit Swap | 18+ Art: Oisein Sketches

July Donation Screenshots

Lastly, accountability screenshots for my donations are below. Differing amounts are to cover individual processing fees.

Thank you again for your support! More updates soon and stay safe out there.

xoxo Parker 🧡

Play The Nameless | Patreon | Discord