#danielle sho

[violasgamingpalace]

For Lesbianism

[west-of-miskatonic]

More from THAT AU! The weird girl Herbie one! Featuring another page from the Zine I participated in

[absurdthirst]

The Hotline {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 24k

Warnings: Phone sex, sex work, Dieter being a dick, dirty talk, masturbation, mentions of anilingus, mentions of edging, switch Dieter, dominate/submissive undertones, lying, betrayal, drunk Dieter, mentions of drugs, crying, exhaustion, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy.

Comments: Taking on a job as a phone sex operator to survive takes on a surprising twist when your daytime boss, Dieter Bravo calls in. Even more surprising when he starts calling everyday. Letting you learn things you never would as his assistant and the lines between your jobs become blurred.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Dieter barely looks up from his script when you set his green tea down on the vanity. "I can't do this anymore, Evangeline. It's impossible, baby. I can't leave my wife." He says his lines, trying to memorize them and he licks his lips as he grabs his pen to make a few notes. He never says thank you for anything you give him and you've gotten used to that. "Thank you." You mumble sarcastically under your breath as you walk away to get him the special socks he wears while filming. His "lucky socks" are what got him the Oscar and "lucky you" has to wash them every night when he is done filming for the day. They are as ratty as the rest of his clothing but he swears they make his scenes better. You hear a beep and your purse vibrates with the spare phone you keep in there. With a glance around the bustling studio, you head into the bathroom to take the call from the familiar number. "Hey baby." You coo into the phone, sitting down on the toilet. You know this is wrong but it's paying your bills. You have a flashback to the night this whole thing started and you lean against the wall in the bathroom as he starts to ramble.

****

Dieter huffs as he sits alone in his bedroom. The large suite, expensively decorated, doesn't fulfill him tonight and he feels like the only man in the world. He hates feeling vulnerable like this. No amount of coke makes the feeling go away. He hums as he starts to look up some porn to jerk his feelings away when he sees the ad. Some phone sex service and he has never called a sex line like some pathetic loser who can't get laid but tonight, he needs to talk to someone, to hear a real voice moaning in his ear. Too lazy to find the real deal, he copies and pastes the number and dials. "Hello sir and welcome to the sexiest phone service in L.A. Please wait to be connected to a concierge." He should hang up now but he doesn't, desperate for attention so when the concierge comes on the line, he eagerly gives his credit card details and a fake name. "What are you looking for?" The concierge asks, tone of voice is slightly bored but Dieter pays them no mind when he asks for someone sweet and sensitive. The operator nods and connects him to "Kitty" and he waits on the line, chest heaving in anticipation.

Your phone buzzes and you are slightly surprised, it’s normally a bit between calls unless the lines are busy but you can’t turn down an opportunity to make more money. Gemma announces that ‘Daniel’ was looking for someone sweet and sensitive so you curve your lips into a smile as the beep indicates that the calls have been patched together. “Hello, Daniel.” You purr into the phone. “What are you doing tonight?”

Dieter bites his lip, hesitating for a second and wanting to hang up but your voice is so sweet, he wants to hear you speak again. “All alone.” He confesses, “thinking about things I shouldn’t be.” He admits, “what are you up to, sweetheart?”

You freeze, wondering why the voice on the phone sounds like your fucking boss. You actually pull the phone away from your ear to check to make sure you have picked up the right one. It would suck if you hadn’t, although you had just talked to Gemma. “You aren’t alone now.” You coo softly. “I’m just sitting in my bed, wondering what I’m going to do with my night.”

“Yeah?” Dieter asks, his fingers tracing his thigh as he sits in his ratty sweatpants, cock twitching at your soft tone that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. “I know what you’re gonna do with your night. You’re gonna talk to me.” He says it like it’s obvious, and then he clears his throat. “I haven’t - I haven’t really done this before. Phone sex. Well, I’ve had phone sex. I’ve just never paid for it and I- shit, I’m rambling. Uhhhhh, what are you wearing?” He tries and wants to slap his forehead for being so cliche.

It is Dieter. You want to disconnect the call and pretend like it never happened. Unsure of how this could affect your relationship, but the soft ping of the minute timer echoes, reminding you that every minute you keep him on the phone is another payment towards your debt that is crushing you. “Hmmmmm.” You decide that you like that Dieter, asshole that he normally is, is a little off kilter. “I’m in a white tank top with no bra and red panties.” You tell him honestly, but you drop your voice to make it sound sexier than it is. “It’s so hot, I have to lounge like that to try and stay cool. What are you wearing?”

Dieter swallows, his cock twitching as it starts to harden. He has no clue what you look like but that kind of turns him on more. The mystery. You have no idea who he is. No idea that he’s an Oscar winning actor. He’s anonymous and that’s probably the hottest thing to him right now. “Sweatpants.” He answers honestly, “no shirt. No underwear.” He smirks a little, looking down at his bulge, knowing that women love the look of gray sweats. “It’s a hot summer.” He coos, “so hot. I think you better take the tank top off to really cool down.”

“Naughty.” You chuckle quietly, shuffling the phone slightly and pretending like you are taking off your clothes. This is your boss. No matter what school girl crush you had on him when you were first hired, Dieter hadn’t given you the time of day. Which was insulting when you realized that he constantly hit on anyone that walked by him. “That is cooler. What about you, baby? Aren’t those sweats hot?”

“They are.” Dieter agrees, placing the phone on speaker so he can lift his hips and shove his sweatpants down. His cock is hard now, aching at the dulcet tones of your voice and he wants to hear you moan, wants to hear you whisper dirty things to him. “I’m naked now…and hard for you, Kitty. I- fuck - I want to suck on your tits.” He blurts out, hating that he’s always had a breast feeding kink but he’s terrified of being a father. You don’t know him, he can act out these fantasies without your judgment.

“Ohhhhh.” You sigh softly and even though he would never know the difference, you actually do reach down and cup your breast. “I love having my tits sucked on.” You admit, imagining your boss with that whiny, pouty mouth wraps around a nipple. “It feels so good to me, baby. Would you squeeze them while you sucked or would you want them to just beg for your attention?”

Dieter groans softly, imagining pliable soft flesh he can squeeze and he nods against the phone, “yes. Squeeze them. Suck on them. I’d - fuck - I would suck on them until you were begging me for more. Until - until your milk squirts into my mouth.” He groans, caressing his thigh in an effort to drag this out and not jerk off so fast. You might judge him, but he doesn’t know you and you don’t know him, so he doesn’t care.

Your brows shoot up, discovering that you are learning one of Dieter’s secret fantasies. He’s open about sex, talks about it enough, but you’ve never heard about that. “Would you like that?” You ask him softly. “Drinking down my milk? Letting you nurse?”

Dieter can’t stop the groan that escapes his lips at your dirty words. “Fuckkkk. Yesss. I- I would drink it all down. Leave none for the baby.” He pants, brushing his fingers over the leaking tip of his cock. “Want to suck on your tits while you sit on my cock. You wanna do that, baby?” He asks, curious if you’re into this or just acting. He doesn’t care either way. He’s enjoying this.

You moan, surprised yourself that the thought actually turns you on. It’s not like you haven’t seen Dieter’s dick. You’ve seen the man walk around his house in nothing but a bathrobe and crocs. Or sprawled out naked on his bed with his flaccid cock out. He’s pretty impressive and you’ve always wondered how he would feel. “I do. You want me to squeeze your cock tight in my little pussy while you gulp my milk down?”

“Fuckkkkk.” Dieter hisses, wanting to jerk off but he wants this to last. “Yes. I bet you’re so tight. Like a goddamn vice, aren’t you, Kitty? God, you sound so beautiful. Want you to be round with my baby, sitting on my cock.” He confesses his darkest fantasy. He has come to realize in his older age that he wants a family but he can never have it. His job, his personality, his lifestyle…none of it is conducive to having a wife or a child. He’s accepted it won’t happen for him but he likes to think about it.

You feel your cunt flood with arousal and you gasp quietly. It will play into the sweet and sensual that Dieter apparently craves. “So tight. It would be so good.” You promise him, wondering what he would do if he knew the woman he is calling beautiful is the same woman he ignores every day. “I’d run my hands through your hair. Do you like it when someone plays with your hair, baby?”

“Yes. I fucking love that.” He practically whimpers as he imagines it. “I want - I want to feel you cum around me. Gush and soak my cock. God, I bet you taste so sweet too. Have you sit on my face. Tell me, are you touching yourself?” He asks breathlessly.

“Yes.” It’s an easy lie, but you’re actually wishing you were touching yourself. You squeeze your breast and moan softly. “Are you touching yourself? I know you have the best cock. Nice and thick for me to impale myself on and ride until I cum.”

“I- I was waiting for you to tell me I could touch myself. I- I haven’t done this before and I- I didn’t know what was appropriate.” He confesses, his fingers twitching, “I’m so hard for you. I want to touch myself. Kitty, can I touch myself?” He asks, voice strained with the restraint he’s showing.

He’s submissive. You bite your lip, eyes wide as you realize this man would be putty in your hands, even if it’s over the phone. “Spit in your hand and wrap it around your cock, baby.” You order him softly. “I want you to feel good. Imagine it’s my pussy, squeezing you tight.”

Dieter follows your order, groaning in relief when he spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around his hard cock. “Fuck. That’s - your cunt is so tight.” He murmurs, closing his eyes as he tries to imagine you - Kitty - on his cock and squeezing him tight. “Feel so good, baby.”

“Oh baby.” You breathlessly moan and reposition in bed. “Fuck, you’re so big, filling me up.” You praise him, knowing how much men love having their egos stroked. You moan again. “How do you want to fuck me? Slow and steady or fast and frantic?”

“Slow. I want slow.” He confesses, yearning for the softness that is missing in his normal liaisons. Usually, it’s fast and frantic and rushed because he wants to retreat back to his solitude. He’s tired of meaningless sex but that’s all he can get. He can’t have connections. How many NDAs can someone have signed? “Are you touching that little clit for me?” Dieter asks, voice deepening with his arousal.

“Yessss.” You whine softly, tempted to actually touch yourself and your hand does slide down to the edge of your panties but you don’t delve under them. “Rubbing my clit so gently and imagining your head between my thighs. Feeling how softly you would lick me, while I play with your hair and tell you how good you are.”

"Fuck yes, baby. Oh God, I can practically feel your fingers running through my hair. I love it. Shit. Feels so good. Wanna - wanna feel you cum on my tongue." He admits, imagining a woman sitting on his face, using his tongue. His cock twitching in his tight grip and he knows you can hear him jerking his cock.

“Oh I’m gonna baby, that tongue is gonna make me scream your name.” You promise him breathlessly. It’s incredibly satisfying to hear him pant for you, the sounds of him fisting his cock doesn’t sound vulgar. It sounds pretty empowering. “Baby, you’re gonna- oh fuck.”

Hearing you moan has him cumming. Worked up from sitting and thinking about having sex and then the call with you…he can’t last much longer. “That’s it baby. Oh shit. That’s it. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me - fuckkkkk.” He groans out, squeezing his cock as he spills his hot seed onto his chest and belly.

You pretend to pant as you listen to Dieter groan and work himself through his orgasm over the phone. Surprised that he still hasn’t figured out your voice, you hum. “Was that good for you, baby?”

“So good. So fucking good.” He pants, his eyes closed as he enjoys his orgasm and he can’t believe how good he feels. He doesn’t feel used or dirty like he does when he finds some wannabe model or a fan to fuck. “You’re so good.” He murmurs, letting go of his cock.

“That’s you, baby.” You coo softly. You know the phone call will end soon, it always does after the entire point of the call is fulfilled. “Never had it this good before.” You feel like he won’t believe that, and it’s just lip service, but you’ve actually enjoyed talking to your boss tonight.

Dieter smiles against the phone, satisfied both physically and emotionally for the first time in so long. “I wanna talk to you again.” He says once he’s sobered up a little from his orgasm.

“You can call anytime.” You promise him with a small smirk, very aware that he would be talking to you in just a few hours. “If you want to call me again tomorrow night, I’d really like that.”

“Yeah? I'd love that.” Dieter says with a sloppy smile on his face. He doesn’t know why but he felt a real connection to you. Something he hasn’t felt in so long. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Kitty. Sweet dreams.” He murmurs, suddenly wanting to get some sleep before he has to be up for his call time. **** 

“Can’t you just get me a fucking cup of tea?” He growls at the catering assistant before he spins to see you. “Oh good. Get me some tea.” He orders, grumpy despite his good sleep.

Your brow shoots up, sure that he would have been in a better mood after last night. “Yes sir,” you throw him a sarcastic salute, grinning when he just rolls his eyes and stomps off towards his trailer. You turn towards the caterer and give them an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, can I get a tea?”

Dieter doesn't look up at you as you set the tea down on the counter in front of him as he sits in front of the makeup trailer mirror. He sighs and looks up at you, "took you long enough."

“They were having a problem with their hot water.” You tell him, even though you know he won’t care in the least. “I’ve got to go pick up your pages.” You tell him, knowing there will be script changes, there have been every day since shooting has started.

Dieter hums, glancing up as you exit the trailer and his eyes drop down to your ass. He’s never really allowed himself to pay attention to you before. Your pretty eyes and the way you unknowingly sway your hips. He’d fuck you if you weren’t employed by him. He sighs and sips the tea, glancing up at Josh who handles his makeup on every movie. “What?” He asks and Josh chuckles, “you gotta be nicer to her.” He says and Dieter snorts, “she’s not paid for me to be nice.”

You sigh as you walk back to the make-up trailer. Pulling out your second phone so you can check when you need to be available. When Dieter is filming, you will have at least two hours to take calls. Dieter doesn’t recognize your voice, which is a good thing, but he’s also being his most difficult self. That’s normal, but you feel oddly deflated after that conversation last night.

**** 

Dieter bites his lip as he listens to the dial tone. He had asked for Kitty specifically and he is already half hard. It’s late, his script abandoned as he waits to hear that sweet voice he’s been thinking about for the past twenty-four hours.

You look at your phone as you finish up your dinner, sighing softly. You had expected at least a few more hours before he called. You answer and wait for the call to connect as you turn off the stove and plate up your food. Hopefully he won’t hear you trying to eat.

Dieter grins when you answer the phone, “hey Kitty. I’ve been thinking about you all day.” He confesses and you snort, “all day?” 

Dieter hums, “all fucking day. Imagined you moaning out when you cum.” He coos and clears his throat a moment later when you don’t reply. “Are you there, baby?”

You swallow the bite of your food and almost call him out on this shit today, but Dieter doesn’t know that it’s you. If he did, you bet he wouldn’t be thinking about you all day. “I’m here baby, I’m sorry, I was getting comfortable.” You aren’t lying, eating is getting comfortable. Especially since you had been working, talking to other clients while Dieter was on set and you didn’t manage to get lunch today.

“No problem. Are you comfortable?” Dieter asks, wanting you to be comfortable while he’s on the phone to you. 

“Yes. I’m all comfy baby.” You promise and Dieter hums in delight. 

“Good. I- I - I didn’t have a great day today. It was shit. Work didn’t go too great and I want to just forget about it.”

"What do you do?" You ask him, curious if he would brag about being an Oscar winning actor like he is so apt to do in real life, or if he would say something else. 

"Oh, I'm - I do creative licensing." He tells you, making you hum, intrigued by this interpretation of acting. 

"Wow, that sounds really important, I'm sorry that you had a bad day, what can I do to make you feel better, baby?"

“You can talk to me. Tell me about your day.” He demands softly, wanting to hear it. He wants to hear you talk, comforted and turned on by your voice. “And tell me what you’re wearing.” He adds, his cock semi hard from hearing that sweet voice answer the phone.

It’s surprising that he wants to hear about someone else’s day. You hum and look down at your work clothes. “I’m just wearing my robe after taking a shower. I needed to wipe the day away too. My boss-” You break off, not sure if you should tell him such a thing. 

“Your boss is what?” Dieter asks and you sigh. 

“My boss is…ungrateful.” You decide. “But I shouldn’t talk about that.” 

Dieter shakes his head, “no. Tell me. I want to hear about it.” He says, wanting to hear about someone else’s life instead of his miserable existence. He’s tired of being alone, of spending his days alone, spending his days being someone else. Pretending to be something else. He wants to hear something menial, not his complicated shit.

You sigh softly and take another bite of your food. “I am the senior executive assistant to the CEO of the company I work for.” You know Dieter has his own company for tax purposes, so that’s technically correct. “My boss just seems to never have a kind word, or not treat me like I’m supposed to jump every time he says.”

Dieter frowns, “that’s not right. You should be treated with respect. You work hard? You should be looked after.” He says with a harsh tone towards your boss. Your voice is so sweet, you shouldn’t be having to jump at a moment’s notice. “If I was your boss, I’d look after you.” He promises, having no idea how ridiculous it is that he actually is your boss.

You roll your eyes, aware of how untrue that was. “Yeah baby?” You want to turn the conversation away from you. It would be too easy to give something away he might recognize. “What would you do to take care of me if I was yours?”

“Everything.” He sighs dreamily. “I’d look after you. Make sure you’re treated with respect. Paid well.” He promises despite his mind drifting to you. “You deserve to be looked after. Relaxed and happy.” He murmurs, glancing over at his script that you gave him. “You’re just wearing a robe?” He asks, his cock still half hard.

“Yes baby.” You are delighted he has come back to sex. Reliable, that’s Dieter. “Red silk. It comes to my thighs and I think it’s the sexiest thing I own.”

“Shit.” He grunts, “and nothing underneath?” He asks and you hum, “nothing.” He groans at that news, “take it off. The sexiest thing you can wear is nothing. Is your little pussy weeping?” He asks, wanting to hear you talk some more.

“Soaked and dripping down my thighs.” You confess, even though it’s just what he wants to hear. “Your voice is so sexy baby, it turns me on. I started getting wet when you said hello.”

“Good. Good. I- I fucking - fucking love that. I love that. I’m getting hard for you baby.” He groans, spitting into his hard and wrapping his fingers around his cock. “Your voice is so sweet. I love it. I wanna listen to you all day.”

You smirk to yourself and coo softly into the telephone. “You like my voice? I think yours is sexy. I bet it sounds amazing when you're right next to my ear, about to cum.” You flatter. “How hard are you right now? Are you throbbing? Squeeze your cock for me, baby.”

"Yes. I'm throbbing for you now." Dieter groans, squeezing his cock as you order. "Tell me what to do. I want to listen to you talk. Fuck, so sexy when you order me around." He whines softly as he starts to slowly pump his cock.

Your groan comes through the line and you hum. “Press your thumb over the tip and smear your pre-cum around the head.” You order him. “Are you cut, or uncircumcised?” You ask as if you don’t know.

“Uncut.” Dieter confesses, “I- I came here as a kid from South America and my parents - they don’t- it’s - do you prefer cut or uncut?” He asks out of curiosity as he follows your order and moans when his thumb swipes over the head of his cock.

Uncut is more sensitive and you like peeling the foreskin down to reveal the leaking head. “I like uncut, baby.” You purr. “Love when your eyes roll back when I press my tongue to the head. So responsive.”

“Fuck baby. Yes. Yes. I love that. Wanna see you take my cock into your mouth.” He groans and he pumps himself a few times, squeezing and trying not to cum too fast. He loves listening to you. “Baby. Fuck, keep talking for me baby.”

“I bet you're thick. Nice and thick and veiny. Easy to jerk off and you love when someone looks up at you when they are sucking your cock, don’t you?” You have heard him talk about blow jobs but you tried to tune it out as much as you could since he was bragging. “Eyes wide and maybe innocent looking?”

Dieter groans, “yes. Yes I do. Oh God. You know me baby. You know me so well already. Wanna see your eyes as you look up at me, mouth full of my cock. Jesus, so fucking sexy. You sound so fucking beautiful.” He pants, jerking his cock a little faster.

You know he doesn’t think that way about you, but it’s nice to hear. “I bet you like having your balls sucked on too, don’t you?” You hum. “Hand around your cock, jerking you off while licking and sucking on your balls. Does that sound good, baby?”

Dieter let’s out a sound between a choke and a moan. The whine makes you smirk and he can’t help but groan out “Kitty. Yes. Fuck. And - and want - God. Want you to lick my ass.” He groans, cock twitching in your hand.

You wrinkle your nose, having zero interest in eating ass, especially Dieter’s, but you moan softly. “I’ll do that for you baby.” You lie, knowing that he would never know the difference. “Make you feel so good. You’ll be cumming quickly. Do you want to cum down my throat or on my tits?”

“Down your throat. Fuck. Want to see you swallow my cum down that pretty throat of yours.” He groans, pumping his cock a little faster and he whimpers when he twitches, so close to cumming. “Fuck. I wanna - I wanna feel you. Wanna see you. Are you- are you close?” He asks breathlessly.

“I’m close baby,” you moan softly. “Imagining the two fingers inside me is your thick cock.” You tell him. “Pumping into me like you are trying to make me scream.”

“Yes. I’d make you scream my name so fucking loud baby.” He promises, “everyone would hear it. God, wanna hear you cum. Can you cum for me?” He begs, his cock throbbing and he’s so close. The tip of his cock is an angry red and he is leaking pre-cum onto his sheets but he doesn’t care.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum for you baby.” You whimper, knowing he wants to hear you. You aren’t touching yourself, but you know how to sound like you are. “Oh fuck, I’m- you baby, moan for me, I’m gonna- gonna cum!” You squeal quietly.

Dieter nearly drops the phone as he listens to you cum and he swears he’s about to blackout from the pleasure until he finally cums, spurting onto his sheets and his chest, a low strangled sound escaping his lips as he orgasms.

You listen to him cum, panting into the phone as you ‘come down’ from your high. “So good, you’re so good, baby.” You coo. “How does it feel? Do you feel relaxed? Sleepy? I always get so sleepy after I cum.”

“Sleepy and relaxed.” He slurs slightly. He hasn’t gotten high tonight, wanting to talk to you properly and he is drunk on you, on your voice. “Thank you, Kitty.” He murmurs, his cum already drying on his skin.

“You’re welcome.” You smile as you hear his voice slip into the pitch that it normally is when he’s about to fall asleep or just waking up. “You should get some sleep, baby.” You murmur softly, aware that you’ve collected a nice paycheck from this call. “I hope you have a better day tomorrow.”

“Me too.” He murmurs, reaching for the tissues on the side so he can clean himself up. “Thank you, Kitty. Have a good night.” He says, hating to lose the connection but he has to get some sleep for his call time tomorrow. “Goodnight.” You murmur and he hangs up, hearing the amount he’s spent but it’s worth every penny to hear that voice.

The next morning, you wonder what kind of mood Dieter will be in. He had been in a bad mood yesterday after talking to you, and he had spent longer on the phone with you last night. “Good morning, Mr. Bravo.” You had swung by the caterer to grab his tea on your way to his trailer. His call time is in an hour, so he has ten minutes before he has to be in makeup.

Dieter rubs his cheek as his hair is styled and he looks up at you, frowning for a second. There’s a tone to your voice that reminds him of Kitty and he has the sudden urge to call her but it’s too early and he has resigned himself to a call a day. “Morning.” He mumbles and you hand him the tea. He doesn’t say thank you as he takes a sip, “have you organized the dinner with that model my PR wants me to ‘date’?”

“Yes.” You want to sigh but you resist. You know you will need to arrange to have his housekeeper come by tomorrow even though it would be a normal off day. She will need to change the sheets and clean whatever toys Dieter used on the model. Plus any of the drug residue. “You are booked at the Palm for nine o’clock. Table for two, very visible. I’ve got a call into Star for a photog to take pap pics.”

Dieter nods, glancing back at himself in the mirror. “She’s gonna have about three brain cells but I’ll see what I can do with them.” He snorts and his hairstylist chuckles, shaking his head. “Fucking PR wanting me to ‘settle’ down because I’m getting older.” He scoffs, “I’m not old.”

You don’t point out that he’s solidly middle aged and the hair department has to dye his hair to rid him of the grays. “Of course you’re not.” You agree softly. “Maybe she will be a marvelous conversationalist.”

Dieter can't help but laugh, "oh sure. That's how she got her job. Her brains." He chuckles softly and shakes his head, "you do make me laugh." He points at you before he clears his throat. "I want those tacos from the place opposite the studio for lunch. Chicken. No, beef. And don't let them skimp on the guac."

“Okay.” You nod. “Chicken, good amount of guac, cilantro and onions.” You know his order practically everywhere at this point but he continues to tell you like it’s your first day. “Do you want queso, or pinto beans?”

“I said beef.” He huffs, rolling his eyes. “No beans. We are doing some action and I don’t wanna be farting up a storm on the set. Tummy gets gassy with beans.” He admits and you wrinkle your nose, “queso. I’ll have queso. And get me a side of rice.”

“Beef.” You know he said chicken but you won’t argue that point. “Extra guac, cilantro and onions, queso with a side of rice.” You barely suppress the urge to roll your eyes. “Aqua Fresca?”

“Of course.” He scoffs like you should know his order without him even saying anything. “Always. See if they have the lime flavor I like.” He says, reaching down to flip the page of today’s lines. “God, it’s exhausting trying to order food.” He huffs softly to himself.

You sigh, your shoulders rounding slightly at the comment. Dieter is egotistical and high strung, making the smallest tasks difficult and for a moment, you wish you were talking to him on the phone. You like that version of him. “Text me if you need anything.” You murmur before leaving the trailer.

He doesn’t look up but he can feel his hair stylist’s eyes on him. “What?” He says without looking up. 

“She’s good for you, Dieter. Don’t run her off. You need to be nicer.” 

Dieter looks up, “she’s a tough girl. I’m just preparing her for this business. I’m doing her a favor.” He says and looks back at his lines. 

**** 

“So I can’t believe how absolutely amazing tonight went.” The model, Sabrina, smiles at Dieter who offers her a fake, Oscar winning smile back. 

“Soooo good. So, uh listen, this went well but this is purely PR.” He says and she frowns, “you don’t want me to come back to yours?” She asks and Dieter usually would be all over snorting coke off of her perky ass and having her sit on his cock but all he can think about is going home and calling Kitty. 

“As incredible as that sounds, I’m tired and honestly? You could talk less about Kylie and Kim. It’s a little too much, ya know?” He tilts his head, “this is to help your career, baby girl, so just kiss me for the paps and we can both go home to our comfy beds, m’kay?” He hums and her mouth flaps like a fish, shocked at his rejection. Dieter pays the bill and the couple walk outside to the paps waiting for him. Dieter ignores them, walking Sabrina to her car and he leans in to kiss her, his hands sliding down to squeeze her ass and he pats it after a second. “Nice date, baby. See ya for the next one.” He winks, slinking off to his own car. He drives a little too fast but as soon as he’s home, he’s grabbing his phone to dial the number he’s memorized.

It’s hard not to sulk tonight, drowning your sorrows in a pint of ice cream and watching Netflix. If you didn’t have a humongous debt, you probably would be pouting. Instead, you are talking to a priest, listening to his fantasies about fucking the leader is the choir in front of the congregation on Sunday. You’ve already role-played and he’s cum, now you are just getting rid of him. Trying not to think about the fact that your boss should be balls deep in that model by now.

The phone rings and Dieter requests Kitty. “She’s on another call at the moment. Do you want to call back?” The operator asks and Dieter’s stomach twists at the thought of his girl talking to someone else. Ridiculous when she isn’t his but he likes to imagine she is. “I’ll call back.” He says, hanging up and he decides to get something to drink to run down the minutes. He calls again twenty minutes later, anxious and itching to talk to you.

You’re shocked when your phone rings and Gemma tells you that Daniel is requesting you again. “He’s becoming a regular.” She giggles and you hum, telling her to put the call through. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Kitty.” Dieter smiles, feeling relaxed just hearing your voice. “I’ve missed hearing that pretty voice.” He admits, “been thinking about you all day.”

“You have?” You lean back onto your couch and resist the urge to call him out. “That’s good. You sound like you’ve been busy.” It’s a question, but maybe not. “Or not busy enough if you’ve been thinking of me all day.”

Dieter snorts, "to be honest...I had a date tonight but I wasn't into her. It was, uh, a blind date, and she was boring as fuck. I didn't want to waste time taking her home when I could talk to you." He confesses, "she didn't have your voice."

That’s interesting. “What’s wrong with her voice?” You had seen some clips of her, but never an interview, maybe she has a really nasally voice, he hates that.

"She wasn't you. She - she wanted to talk about the fucking Kardashians all night and I - she didn't know any of the classics. She hasn't even seen The Godfather. Who the fuck hasn't seen The Godfather?" He rambles a little, "she was boring and she kept looking at herself in the mirror behind me."

“Hmmmm.” Yeah, totally not Dieter’s type. Despite his complete self absorption, he loves classic movies. “So I guess that means she’s never seen Some Like it Hot, or Casablanca?” You snort, shaking your head. “The latest TikTok make-up trend is probably more her speed then. I’m sorry, baby. I’m sure that you won’t be seeing her again.”

Dieter rubs his cheek, "it's, uh, it's complicated. I have to. For my job. I have to see her again and she's gonna bore me to death. She was talking and I could barely stop myself from stabbing my ear drums with the cocktail stick from her martini." He snorts, "how was your evening?"

“It’s okay.” You shrug. “A little lonely.” You tell him teasingly, although it might sound flat. You really wonder what you’ve done to make him hate you as his assistant, it must be something. “Wanted to relax and have a bottle of wine, but I have to have wine to do that.”

"You don't have any wine?" Dieter frowns, "you gotta have some wine if you want it!" He says and he runs his fingers over his sheets, feeling guilty for going on that date even though he doesn't know who Kitty is. He wants to though. More than anything.

“Maybe I’ll treat myself this weekend if my boss doesn’t have me working.” You hum softly, aware that Dieter will have you working, he always does. “What do you want to talk about tonight, baby? I want to make you feel good.”

He doesn't actually want phone sex. He just wants to listen to your voice. "I- I want to hear you talk about your day. Then I want - I want you to tell me what you fantasize about." He declares and you shake your head despite knowing he can't see you. "This is about you." You remind him but he snorts, "exactly. And that's what I want."

You scramble to tell him about your day without giving too much away. “It was frustrating.” You admit. “I think my boss purposely tries to make me feel worthless.” You tell him. “He wanted me to go run an errand for him, tells me what to do, I repeat it back to him and then he changes it and complains.”

“He sounds like a dick.” Dieter scoffs and you bite your lip to smother your chuckle at the irony. “Why do you work for this guy if he’s such an asshole?” He asks, curious as to why you’d let someone treat you like that.

“I need a job.” You answer honestly, wondering what he would say if you told him the truth about the guy who’s a dick. “It’s also why I am on the phone with you. I have a lot of debt that is drowning me. My degree became useless when the industry tanked.”

Dieter frowns, not liking how desperate you sound. “What did you get your degree in?” He asks, trying to figure out how he can help you more. You’re so sweet and kind. He doesn’t want to see anything happen to you because you can’t pay your bills.

“It’s definitely not something you’ve heard of.” You promise, not sure if you’ve told Dieter or if he paid attention. “But that makes my fantasy to be a sugar baby.” You joke, giggling quietly. “Not really, but I can dream, right?”

Dieter snorts, “you can definitely dream, baby. I want to send you some money. Can I?” He asks, wanting to look after you even if it’s not as a sugar baby/sugar daddy relationship.

There’s no way that you can have him send you money. He would know it’s you. “No, no, don’t do that baby.” You insist. “Talking to me right here is enough.”

Dieter whines, “but I’m willing to help you out, Kitty. I don’t want you to struggle. I- I can help.” He says but you turn him down again. “Can we - can we stay on the phone for longer? Extend the calls so you get more money?”

“That would work, baby.” You are surprised that Dieter is willing to spend more money, or give you money. He had turned you down when you asked for a raise a few months ago. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Tell me about your dreams. What do you wanna do? I’m guessing that being a phone sex operator isn’t your ideal. I wanna know what you want for your life.” Dieter says, knowing he’s had so much success but he wants to hear what someone else wants from their life.

“No, being a phone sex operator isn’t ideal.” You admit with a small chuckle. “Honestly? My secret dream? The one I’ve never told anyone?” You tempt him, making him huff and impatiently exclaim, “of course, tell me!” You bite your lip. “I want to be a writer.” You confess softly. “I could be a stay at home mom if I ever met someone and wanted kids. But I want to write. Books, films, it doesn’t matter.”

Dieter smiles, “you written anything?” He asks, curious since he has read enough movie scripts during his time. “Have you written anything or just have some ideas?”

You hum softly. “I have nearly two hundred pages written. A story about a girl who is an assistant to a movie star. A real asshole.” You clear your throat. “I figured it would be different from my real boss so he wouldn’t recognize himself.”

“Smart.” Dieter chuckles, “can I - can you read some of it? I wanna see if it’s something…I have a friend in the movie industry. I could see if he can get it to someone. Maybe get it picked up?” Dieter offers.

If you had asked Dieter Bravo to read your script, he would have scoffed and tossed it in the trash. Now he’s begging you to read your story. “I - I can email you a copy.” It would be easy to create another email account that isn’t linked to your real life. “If you really want to read it, don’t feel obliged to, though.”

“I want to read it.” Dieter says, almost hungry to consume every thing you’re willing to give him. “I want to read it and see if I can help you. You sound so sweet, so beautiful, I want to help any way I can.” He says and clears his throat, “you- I love how you sound. Think about you during the day…what you’re up to.”

“You would be surprised.” You huff, rolling your eyes. “It would bore you and probably annoy you.” You honestly believe that Dieter believes that he is better than your imaginary boss. “I did my boss’s laundry and arranged for him to have business meetings for the next few weeks.”

“He sounds like a dick.” Dieter scoffs, “you should quit. Let me take care of you.” He says playfully, “we could spend our days talking about movies or going to the beach. I haven’t been to the beach in so long.” He sighs, “when was the last time you went to the beach?”

“Honestly? It was about a month ago.” You admit. “The beach is free entertainment. I was…out of town for a while and when I got back from the business trip, it was the first thing I did.” You had needed the time to clear your mind, Dieter had been horrible while on location and you needed the salt and sand to decompress.

“I wanna go.” Dieter huffs, feeling impulsive but unable to go. It’s too late. “Maybe one day. I- my schedule is so busy. I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a tiny bikini though.” He smirks, imagining laying out in the sun, flirting and kissing. Something he hasn’t enjoyed in so long.

You giggle but you want to snort. You doubt he would want to see you in a bikini, he’s never even glanced at you twice. Unless he’s angry and ridiculing you. “Maybe one day, baby. What’s your favorite thing to do at the beach? I love laying out and sunning. I- the last time I was in Europe, I went to a nude beach.”

“You’ve been to Europe?” He asks, knowing it’s rude to assume you haven’t but he is surprised you have. “I like the nude beaches.” He adds, knowing he can’t go to them in case there are paps but he enjoys laying out in the sun.

“They are great, I came back with no tan lines.” You hum, smiling at the memory. It had made it worth it to put up with Dieter’s antics that entire trip. “I would like to go back, or even better, have a house with a private pool and be able to sunbathe nude next to it.”

“Ooo that sounds relaxing. And sex by the pool. Sex in the sun.” He fantasizes, “fucking someone in the pool. Fucking you in the pool.” He amends, “the sun on our skin. Imagine that, baby. Just enjoying life with no worries. Sex and sun and wine.”

“Sex is great.” You admit. “But I want a connection with the person I’m with. Intimacy. Laying in bed and talking about our day, our hopes and dreams. Planning out our future even if we both know it will never happen.” You smile sadly.

He understands that. His ex wife…that was a disaster and he is still paying out the alimony for that mistake. “Yeah? I want that too. To talk about anything and everything. The future. God, the future. I don’t even wanna think about the future most of the time.”

“Yeah, I have to survive the day, let alone plan for the future.” You snort and shake your head. “I can barely have a date, let alone find something permanent.”

Dieter understands that too. His schedule is so scattered he can’t make plans. His December could change three times before it’s finalized. “You deserve to be treasured.” Dieter says after a few moments.

“I’m glad you think so.” You murmur softly. “Maybe you can treat people in your life since I’m not there.” You suggest. “Do you have anyone you see everyday? A co-worker? Assistant? I don’t even know what you do.”

“I have an assistant.” He confesses, avoiding your question about what he does. “My job is stressful. I- I was brought to America as a young kid and immediately, my parents signed me up for drama class thinking it would help me learn English. It did and I fell in love with movies. I have had a life dictated for me by my parents’ desire to see me become successful in this country and it worked but - but I missed having a childhood.” He confesses, “I missed my family.”

“Oh.” You frown slightly, feeling bad for Dieter and the stress he must have been under as a young child. You never knew that about him. “I’m sorry.” You murmur softly. “I hate that you missed your family and your childhood. What did you imagine doing?”

“I wanted…it’s so dumb.” He snorts, “I wanted to be a zoo keeper. I loved - I love animals. I wanted to work with lions and tigers. And monkeys. I wanted to nurture something. I - I don’t nurture anything now.” He says with sadness, a little upset at how fickle his life has become.

“That’s great.” You sigh softly. “You should. I’m sure that there’s some wildlife conservations you can help out. I always try to donate to my favorite causes when I have some extra money.”

“Yeah. I could do that. I’ll speak to my ma - my finance manager and see what can be done.” He says, “I want to help out. Especially here in California. Are you in Cali or somewhere else?”

“I’m in California.” You tell him. “Los Angeles, although I would love to live out in the desert.” You smile, thinking about the movies that have been filmed out there. Dieter never wanted to do one because the sun was so bright. “Where do you live?”

“Uh, L.A. too. North L.A.” He says vaguely, “funny. In this big city and I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re so…genuine. I love it.” He admits with a soft smile, “do you- are you going to - what are you wearing?” He asks, his voice dropping.

This is something that you are used to. Dieter is always horny. “Another tank top and panties.” You tell him. “I need to do laundry but I can’t muster the energy.”

“Don’t do laundry. Just walk around your house naked.” Dieter chuckles, “so I can call and you can tell me how you’re making that sweet cunt of yours weep for me.” He groans, his cock twitching as he starts to harden, imagining Kitty sitting there, listening to him.

“Do you walk around your own house naked?” You ask, knowing that he’s more likely to walk around in his boxers and ratty bathrobe, but maybe he strips down when you aren’t around. “I should be naked. Save on clothes.”

“Sometimes. Depends on the weather. If it’s really hot I’ll walk around naked.” He doesn’t tend to do it a lot just in case someone snaps a photo. Despite his vivacious sex life, he hasn’t been caught naked on camera, not even for an indie movie. “You should be naked. I - I wish I could see you naked.”

“I’m afraid you would be disappointed.” You claim, making his scoff. 

“No I wouldn’t.” He insists. “I would be in awe of every inch of your body.” It’s a nice claim but you highly doubt it, you’ve seen the people he fucks. They are way beyond your league. 

“The best part of this, you can imagine I look like whatever you want.”

“Baby.” He whines, “I- I know you won’t but I wish you could describe what you looked like. So I could imagine sinking inside of you, making you moan my name. Wanna watch you cum on my tongue, my fingers…my cock.”

“I won’t tell you what I look like,” he huffs even though he expected it and you grin. “But I will tell you that I waxed my pussy. So it’s nice and bare. Brazilian. Clean front and back.” Dieter had tossed you a gift bag telling you that he didn’t want it and you had used the generous gift card inside to treat yourself a few weeks ago.

“Shitttttt.” Dieter hisses, imagining sliding his tongue through bare folds, rimming smooth skin. “Fuck. You have noooo idea how hot that is.” Dieter admits, “does it feel good, baby? Silky smooth?”

“It’s so good. I never want to have hair again.” You admit with a giggle. “Sometimes I just touch myself just to enjoy the soft skin. Turning myself on. I bet your tongue would feel so good on my bare pussy.”

“It would.” He says with utter conviction, “I would make you cum on my tongue. Over and over. I’m- fuck - I’m hard for you, baby. I need you.” He pants, his cock aching now and he wraps his fingers around his hard length.

“You need me?” You bite your lip and actually palm your breast. “How do you want me? If I was right in front of you, right now, what would you do to me? Touch yourself and tell me.” You order.

Dieter chokes at the sweetness of your voice. “I - fuck. I’d want you to sit on my face while you suck my cock. I’d lick that sweet pussy, God, that sweet soft pussy. Suck on your clit, bury my tongue inside of you. Lick you up.”

“Yeah? Ride your face while I take your thick cock down my throat and moan around you when you push your tongue inside me?” You coo. “I would love that. I could have my pussy eaten all day. And I love sucking cock.”

Dieter hisses, squeezing his cock, “baby. Oh shit. That - I want you to suck my cock. Take all of it down your throat. I want to - shit - want to lick your ass and your pussy. Make you soak my face.”

The groan you give is dirty, imagining smothering him in your pussy and him begging for more. “Good boy.” You purr, wondering how he works react to that.

Holy shit. He nearly cums from that. “Yes ma’am.” He whines, “wanna- wanna be a good boy for you.” He whimpers, squeezing his cock again. “Can I - can I - can I pump my cock, ma’am?”

“Yes you can.” You agree, enjoying the submissiveness of your boss. “But don’t cum, I don’t want you to cum just yet. Can you do that for me, my good boy?”

“Yes.” He nods against the phone, “I promise. I- I won’t cum.” He groans low as he pumps his cock, “ma’am. I wanna - I won’t cum but tell me - what are you doing?” He asks, his voice a little desperate.

“Sitting in my chair, legs spread wide on the arms and rubbing my clit.” You whimper. “Imagining you on your knees with a cock ring on your hard cock while you eat me out until I let you fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ yes. I- I have a cock ring. Don’t get to use it too often.” He confesses, “I’d make you cum. Over and over again.” He promises, “until you let me fuck you.”

“I know you would, you’re a good boy.” You giggle, enjoying the power you weld over him. “If you cum, you would be punished, you know that right? I would spank your ass and you couldn’t fuck me.”

“Oh my God.” Dieter groans, never experiencing this before. Every lover he’s had wanted him to be in control. And he does like that but he loves feeling out of control. He’s just never found a lover he trusts enough to let go of the dominance. He loves hearing you talk about this. It’s safe and yet he can indulge. “Baby. Oh ma’am. I’m a good boy. I promise.” He assures you, “I want to fuck you. You’ll let me fuck you?”

“Yes.” You hum. “But you would have to listen to me. If you didn’t, I would tie you to the bed and ride your cock while you have the cock ring on.” You warn him. “Not let you cum while I cum over and over on your cock.”

"You say that like it's a punishment." He jokes softly despite the rasp in his voice from his arousal. He spits into his hand, squeezing the head of his cock and his hand drags his foreskin down, having him release a moan at the way he imagines being denied like that.

You snort and shake your head. “Then what would be punishment for you?” You ask, curious to hear more of those deep fantasies of his come out. He’s jerking off now. The slick sounds coming through the phone.

"Slapping me. Edging me. Fuck, I want - I want you to deny me but I want to feel your mark on me. Dig your nails into my skin." He begs, knowing that he can never have hickies or marks on his skin due to the nature of his work.

You groan quietly, aware that his manager and whatever director he was working with at the time would be pissed but it’s a sexy image, having Dieter wear your marks on his skin. “You want that? Mark you up, make you remember me?”

“Yesss.” Dieter hisses, “want to remember you. Want to see your marks on my skin long after I leave your bed. I want to feel you. In every way.” Dieter groans and twists his wrist, pumping his cock a little faster.

“You would baby.” You promise him. “I’d suck hickies into your neck and score my nails down your back.” You grin when you hear him whimper. “Does it feel good baby? Is your cock getting harder? Does it ache?”

"Fuck. It does. It's - I need - can I cum? Please ma'am. Can I cum?" He begs, needing to orgasm and it's almost painful to touch his cock but he keeps pumping himself, needing that release.

You want to deny him, to draw it out, but you decide to be nice. “You can cum baby.” He tells you. “Cum for me, baby boy.”

“Yes. Yes. Fuck. Baby. Oh shit.” He pants, eyes clenched as he pumps his coco frantically, hot cum spurting across his sheets and across his chest. He lets out an almost inhuman sound as he orgasms.

You listen to him through the phone, feeling your cunt clench at how sexy it sounds. There’s something so wrong about this, but you also love it. Love the power you hold even if he doesn’t know it’s you. “Good boy, fuck, work out every drop.”

He wrings himself dry, cum drying on his skin and sheets as he closes his eyes, nearly dropping the phone from how hard he cums. God, he's addicted to this. To hearing you. To wanting you. "Fuck, I - I think I fuckin' - I nearly blacked out." He reveals with a soft chuckle.

You giggle quietly and hum. “That good, baby?” You ask softly, knowing he will be ending the call soon but he’s already spent three times the normal amount of time on the phone.

“So good.” He murmurs, lust drunk on you as he keeps his eyes closed, enjoying the sound of your voice. “I- I wanna stay on the phone with you all night. Let me - let me just listen to you.” He pleads, wanting to feel connected to you.

“You want to listen to me?” You ask, surprised by the request. “I had planned on taking a bath.” Your apartment might be a tiny hole in the wall, but it has a bathtub. “Are you sure you want to listen to that?”

“Yeah. I wanna listen. Talk to you when you want. I- I want to feel like I have someone nearby. I get lonely.” He confesses, opening his eyes and looking out at his vast pool deck. His home is one that many would kill for but it feels so hollow to him.

“Oh.” Your frown is soft and sad. You hate that he feels lonely. “Do you have any friends? Family? You talked about missing your family yesterday.”

Dieter scoffs, “my family- they only want to know me now to pay for their shit. My friends? They aren’t friends. They want me because of the connections I have. The things I can buy. They aren’t real friends. If I lost everything, none of them would even think twice about me.”

You know that the people he hangs out with are shallow and that’s true. If he wasn’t rich and famous, they would move onto someone else. “That’s not fair.” You tell him honestly. “People deserve to be appreciated for who they are, not what they can do for you.”

Dieter sighs, “a symptom of the industry I'm in.” He says without remembering what he told you he does. He doesn’t care now, too relaxed and enamored with you to truly care if you know the truth about him. “What about you? Do you have friends? Family?”

“I- I don’t really talk to my parents.” You admit quietly. “They are….ridged and it has to be their way or they threaten to disown you.” You snort, reminding yourself that you had basically told them ‘good’ the last time they threatened you and packed your shit and left. It was Christmas two years ago when you started working for Dieter. You had spoken to them twice since then.

“Sounds like bullshit. Why do parents think they can control us so much?” He scoffs, “using us to fulfill the dreams they were too shit scared to ever go for. It’s ridiculous. Not that I would ever have the chance to be a father but if I did, I would never allow them to live their life according to my desires. It’s not - I want my kid or kids to be happy. That’s all that would matter.”

“You want kids?” You zero in on that. “How many would you want? Boy or a girl? I’ve always been the type that’s wanted one of each, maybe a set of twins.”

“Twins? That would be - God. One of each. I want to feel important to someone. Kids - they don’t care about your previous sins. They love you regardless and you get a chance to be a better parent than your parents were to you. I desperately want to redeem myself somehow. I want one of each.” Dieter decides even though he can’t keep a relationship to save his life.

Dieter with kids would be a sight to see. He would either love it or hate it. You could kind of see him becoming obsessed with the kids if you were honest. “One of each.” You hum in agreement. “Teach your son to be a gentleman and your daughter to not take shit from anyone. Love them unconditionally.”

Dieter smiles against the phone, “exactly. I want my children to have a better life, be more mentally stable.” He snorts and knows he needs to talk to his therapist next week. “Are you gonna get into the bath?” Dieter asks, grabbing the wipes he keeps in his nightstand to clean himself up.

“Yes.” You stand up and move towards your bathroom, snagging your headphones so you can charge your phone. “I feel like soaking in a bath after today. Too bad I don’t have some wine to drink, or someone to share it with.”

“I’d love to get in the bath with you, baby.” Dieter says, cleaning up and he tosses the wipes aside onto his nightstand. “I’d get you some wine. Rub your feet. Rub your shoulders.” He promises, imagining relaxing completely like that.

“Do you have a big bathtub?” You giggle. “We would be squeezed tight in mine.” You admit. “Sometimes it barely fits me when there’s bubbles.”

“I have a big bathtub.” He brags playfully, “you could ride my cock in that bathtub and still have enough room to relax after.” He smirks, “we could have wine and order take out. I’ve never really had a homey relationship like it. It’s always been clubs and fancy restaurants. I want movies on the sofa and takeouts.”

“You should. You deserve to have the kind of relationship you want.” You tell him adamantly as you start the water to warm up. “Honestly? I hate going out to clubs. My boss loves them and I just have to fend off creepy, drunk men and it’s too loud. You can’t talk to anyone there. You have to shout your order to the waitress.” You admit. “Plus, you could always cook together. Make dinner together? I would love to have a relationship like that.”

“That sounds like a dream but it’s not in the cards for me. I’ve made my bed. Now I gotta lie in it.” He sighs and rubs his cheek, “I hate clubs. I pretend to love them because everyone else does and yeah, at some point I loved going to the club but that stopped like ten years ago. I’m too old for that shit now.”

“You can change anything you don’t like.” You put in your ear buds and start to strip down, testing the water with your toe before stepping into the bath. “You aren’t at a nightclub tonight. Why don’t you go run a bath too and we can take one together?”

Dieter is tempted. “Sure. Let me go run the bath.” He shuffles out of bed and groans at the pinch in his back. Maybe a bath is a good idea considering how his back has been today. Filming isn’t as easy as it used to be and he is struggling after filming for weeks on end. He pours some bubble bath his ex left there when she would use the bath while he worked and he groans when he’s finally sinking into the water.

“That feels good, baby?” You hear the splashing and the groaning as he gets into the tub. “A hot bath is always good at the end of a long day. The one good thing about traveling with my boss is the rooms booked for me always have a big tub.”

“Well that’s a plus. He sounds like a fucking dick apart from that.” Dieter snorts and leans his head back against the edge. “I- I really want to meet you.” He confesses after you go silent, “like…not tomorrow or next week, but at some point.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Daniel.” You use the name he gave you on purpose, reminding him that he’s keeping something from you too. “I’m afraid we won't live up to each other’s expectations. Maybe one day.”

He bites his lip, knowing it was a stupid idea. He’s lied to you about who he is. “Yeah. You’re right. I, uh, I think it’s best we keep it like this.” He says after clearing his throat. “You came earlier, right?” He asks, wanting to make sure you enjoyed yourself too.

You relax, happy that he’s seeking reason and lean back on the lip of the tub to soak. “I actually didn’t.” You reveal softly. “I was wrapped up in listening to you and stopped touching myself. I enjoyed it though.”

"I want you to cum." Dieter whines, "I want you to cum for me. You always sound so sweet when you cum." He coos, "I wish I could suck on your tits, I want to lick that sweet pussy. I know you are so fucking sweet. Like candy. I'd spend hours between your thighs."

You’ve never actually cum with Dieter on the phone but you slip your hands between your thighs. “You would? You would spend all day licking my pussy if I told you to?” You ask, starting to circle your clit with your fingers, moaning quietly. “Bite my tits? I like a little pain too.”

"I'd do whatever you want. I'd be yours." He promises, "are you touching that cute little clit for me?" Dieter asks and he smirks when you breathlessly reply "yes." 

He groans softly, "good. Squeeze your tit, want you to pinch your nipple and imagine it's me."

You follow his order, finding you getting wetter when he’s talking to you with a low, raspy voice. “Fuck.” You whimper, rolling your nipple between your fingers.

“That’s it, baby. Keep going baby. Pinch it again.” He orders. Your whimper goes straight to his cock but he’s too old to get hard again so soon. “Now…I want you to slide your hand down to your pussy, find your clit and rub around it. Don’t touch it.” He orders, wanting to control your pleasure like you controlled his.

You whine, pulling your fingers from the bundle of nerves and rubbing around it like he had ordered you. Finding this dominating side of him just as sexy as the submissive side. “It’s so good baby, I bet you have thick fingers. Would you push them inside me?” You ask breathlessly.

“Yes. God, I’d push one in just to see how tight you are then I’d add another. Wanting to stretch you out to take my cock after. I want you to touch your clit now. Tell me how it feels.” He commands, the water sloshing around him.

You gasp when you press your fingers back against your clit. “So good, it’s- my stomach is tightening up. I can feel it building up inside me, taking my breath away.” You explain.

“That’s it. Good girl. I want you to cum for me. So rub that little clit. You have a hand free? Use that to push two fingers into that tight pussy. Want you to make yourself cum for me.”

“Fuck D-Daniel.” You had almost called hun Dieter but you caught yourself. Obeying him and whimpering when you slide two fingers deep and curl them up. “I’m gonna cum.” You ramble. “Can I? Can I c-cum?”

“Yes. Cum for me baby. Wanna hear you when you cum.” He orders, wanting to hear you and his cock twitches in interest. “Cum for me, Kitty.” He demands, wishing you could moan his actual name.

Your mouth drops open and you let out a long and breathless moan as you start to cum. Water splashing and your body jerking as your cunt clenches down around your fingers and pleasure courses through your body. Wondering if it is more intense because it’s your boss or because you are giving up control. Working yourself through it while Dieter pants on the other end of the phone until you slump down against the back of the tub.

Dieter listens to your orgasm and he thinks that's the prettiest sound he has ever heard. He groans softly, his cock interested and he murmurs, "that's it. Good girl. Good girl. Love to hear this. Wanna hear it all the time."

“God.” You pant, giggling drunkenly from the pleasure. “It’s been a long time since I’ve cum that hard.” You admit. “I was wearing out my wand trying to get that feeling. So thank you.”

Dieter is proud to say the least and he recognizes that you could be bullshitting him but he likes to hear it regardless. “I’m glad I could be of service.” He says teasingly. “You sound so sexy when you cum.” He says softly, “I wanna hear it again and again.”

“Glad you think so.” You smile and sink a little lower into the hot water. “Now that we are both relaxed, why don’t you tell me something? It could be anything. I don’t mind.”

Dieter thinks for a moment, humming to himself. “I - I would really love a dog. I used to have one when I was a young kid and I would love another one, but I’m always traveling and it wouldn’t be fair to make a dog wait around for me when they should be loved and cared for. Plus I think my assistant would have a cow having to look after a dog too.”

“Have you talked to her? I’m assuming your assistant is female. See what she thinks about a dog.” You personally would love to have a dog around, maybe it would help Dieter’s attitude. “Would you want a big one? There are small ones that fit in a bag. It would be easy to travel with that.”

Dieter hums, imagining his assistant handling a dog. “I guess I could ask her and see if she’s okay with it before I go to a shelter. I want to connect with the dog. Big or small…I’ll know when I meet them.” Dieter says with confidence, suddenly spurred on to get a dog.

“Is- is your assistant nice?” You ask, unsure if you really want to hear what he thinks about you but it’s an opportunity you can’t pass up. “Does she take care of you?”

“She does. She - I don’t appreciate her enough.” He confesses, “she’s - she’s incredible and she puts up with my demanding ass. I should buy her something nice to thank her. I take her for granted and I guess - it’s because I’m so focused on my job, it’s intense and it takes a lot out of me so figuring out where my meal comes from is the last thing I want to think about.”

“I can understand that, but I’m sure she knows what you like. Just like I know what my boss will eat out of every type of cuisine. Why don’t you let her take over?” You suggest. “Just tell her that you’re craving Chinese or Indian and let her take care of you.”

"Yeah. I have always been a control freak. I like things a certain way and I- I know I am harsh on her. I'm gonna try and change my ways a little." He sighs, shifting so the water splashes over the side of the tube.

At least he’s not been doing it on purpose. You can see that now. You hun and nod even though he can’t see it. “That’s okay. Just try talking to her. Tell her that you appreciate her. I wish my boss would acknowledge a fraction of what I do.”

"I'll talk to her." He promises you, "God, you are - I wish I could meet you. I bet you're gorgeous, huh? I bet you have men lining up to kneel before you." Dieter says, suddenly changing the subject.

“Oh yeah.” You droll sarcastically. “Lining up. I’ve had some men ask me out, but I’m often too busy.” You admit, Dieter often has you running errands all day after he gets done shooting. Especially when it’s on location.

“You gotta make more time for yourself.” Dieter shakes his head, the water getting colder. “We better get out of the bath.” He says, “mine is getting cold and I don’t want you getting sick.”

You want to tell him that you don’t actually get sick from cold water but it’s sweet that he cares. “Okay.” You agree, sloshing water as you stand up and reach for your towel. “What’s your nighttime routine?”

Dieter chuckles, “depends on how sober I am.” He confesses, “i get all these creams and shit so I try to use them but sometimes I forget. I am getting old and wrinkly.” He jokes, “and then I get into bed and read my - read my book to prepare for the next day.”

Reading is a surprise. You didn’t know that, you never see books beyond the pretentious ones his decorator set out. “What are you reading?” You’re interested to see what Dieter likes to read before he goes to bed. What calms him down.

"It depends on my mood. Sometimes I like a thriller. Other times I like science fiction. Right now, I'm reading The Martian. It's relaxing and I enjoy escaping into a different world." He explains, part of why he loves acting is so he can escape from himself.

“Oh I’ve read that. It’s a really good book.” You tell him with a smile on your face. “Sometimes I read on my phone when my boss is busy. When I’m not writing.”

Dieter smiles, “maybe we can form our own book club.” He says as he puts his phone on speaker to dry off after he steps out of his bath and pulls on a pair of boxers after he’s cleaned up. “I’m gonna brush my teeth.” He says, letting you hear him run the water and brush his teeth.

You rub your lotion into your face and smile. “I’ll brush my teeth too.” It’s domestic, and homey. “Don’t forget to floss.” You tease playfully.

“Never.” Dieter chuckles after he rinses and grabs his waterpik, he actually likes his teeth after enduring braces as a teenager. They are perfect and he is happy to have some part of him be perfect in the movie industry.

The next few minutes are spent relatively quiet, both of you brushing and flossing until you are satisfied with the results. “Nothing feels better than climbing into bed all clean, unless it’s to also climb into clean sheets.” You tell him, walking out of your bathroom and into your tiny bedroom.

“Ooo yes. I love when my housekeeper changes the sheets and it’s all snuggly.” He confesses and he groans as he slides into bed and turns the light off. “I guess you gotta get some sleep, huh?” Dieter asks, pouting slightly as he lays in bed in the dark.

“I do. My boss has to be up really early and he is an ass if I’m not there with his coffee.” You tell him, swapping coffee for tea when you are describing him to himself. “He made one barista cry because she didn’t have the kind of drink he wanted.”

“Jesus. He sounds like an absolute dick. I’ll let you go baby. Speak tomorrow?” He asks and you hum, “yes of course.” 

Dieter smiles, “sleep well, Kitty Kat.” He grins against the phone.

 “Sleep tight.” You respond and he chuckles as the line goes dead. He’s spent a crazy amount of money tonight on the call but he’s never felt happier, more relaxed, and comfortable. He dreams of meeting Kitty when he eventually falls asleep.

**** 

It’s been weeks since you’ve started talking to Dieter every night, and you are grateful for it. It’s the only way that you are making any headway in the money to owe. It still amazes you that he still hasn’t recognized your voice, although he has been more considerate. “Maury!” You huff, rolling your eyes when Dieter’s older dog he had adopted head butts your leg. “You want to go out, boy?” You ask him with a smile on your face as you reach for his leash.

The dog pants as you leash him and Dieter walks into his trailer, bending down to greet the dog. “Hey boy. You okay in here while I’m gone?” He asks as the dog licks his face and he chuckles, letting him. “I know, buddy. We will be leaving soon, okay? I gotta shower while you’re on your walk then we will pick up some tacos on the way home.” He promises and rubs his head. Dieter looks up at you, “you, uh, wanna grab tacos? My treat?” He asks, knowing he has to be better to you. Kitty would want him to be nicer to you.

Your eyes widen slightly and you nod. “Uh, sure, if you’re serious.” You tell him. “I’ll take Maury on his walk.” The fact that you’ve started falling for Dieter is solely because of the nightly conversations you have. “If you don’t have plans for tonight that it would interfere with?”

Dieter shakes his head, “no. I don’t have plans.” He had told his PR he wanted a break from the fake dating and they had conceded. “See you after and we will go to that place with the outdoor seating so we can bring Maury.” He says, knowing that the outdoor section is secluded and he won’t be disturbed by paps there.

“Sure.” You guide Maury out the door and try not to imagine your boss in his shower. You are slightly addicted to the conversations you have and wonder if he’s going to call you tonight once you leave.

Dieter is quick to clean up and redress in his sweats. He loves to wear shitty clothes to piss off the paps if they capture him so he is soon grabbing his backpack and you are following him and Maury to the taco place in your car. He wants to call Kitty tonight, tell her how much nicer he’s trying to be since she told him to attempt to be good to his assistant.

“Thank you.” You murmur quietly. “This is very sweet of you.” You acknowledge with a smile as you kneel down to pat Maury. “Do you want some tacos, boy? I hear they have a sweet potato taco on the menu now, specifically for your dog.”

Dieter lights up at that, “really? Damn, Mau, looks like it’s tacos for all.” He says and opens the door to his car so Maury can jump in. “Meet you there?” Dieter asks, knowing you know his favorite taco shop. It’s nothing fancy and that’s what he loves. It’s normal.

“Sure can.” You nod and walk over to your older car and climb inside. You crank it up and wait for Dieter to pull out. Impressed that he’s not still driving like a maniac like he normally does when he’s doing a lot of drugs.

Dieter taps his fingers to the song playing on the radio and for once, he feels happy. He hasn’t been taking as many drugs. Honestly not wanting to be high when he speaks to Kitty so he’s calmed it down to only when he’s super anxious or needs to sleep. He glances in the mirror at you following him in that piece of shit car you own and he wonders if he should offer to help you out to get a newer car. He doesn’t want something to happen to you. For some reason, he’s grown closer to you since he’s started talking to Kitty and he finds himself imagining what you’d taste like if he were to kiss you. Absolutely insane when he’s pretty sure he’s falling in love with Kitty but he feels a connection to you he can’t explain. He’d never risk it, you’re an amazing assistant and he can’t lose you. He knows that now. When he pulls into the parking lot, he cuts the engine to his car and gets out, grabbing Maury who is wagging his tail and Dieter chuckles, “come on boy. Taco time.”

You find a parking spot and cut your engine, sure that you heard a knocking sound and praying that it wasn’t going to be something expensive. You have a neighbor that is always offering to look at it, maybe you’ll take him up on it. You smile when you see Maury excited and Dieter waiting for you. “Tacos and maybe a beer. God, I could use one.” You joke.

“Beer sounds good.” Dieter nods, guiding you to one of the outside tables. “What do you want?” He asks after he hands you a menu once you’re seated and settled, Maury laying down at your feet under the table. The waitress comes over and Dieter orders two beers and some water for Maury. “I was thinking…your car is literally gonna die any moment. Can I help you? Like…give you some money or something so you can get something else?”

You bite your lip, wanting so badly to take Dieter up on his offer. You need another car but you also know that most offers for help, especially giving money comes with stipulations. “I don’t know.” You shake your head. “I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” You tell him. “You have enough people doing that.”

Dieter shakes his head, “I can help. I want to help. You can’t be driving around in that. It will be a death trap and I- Kitty, please let me help you.” He says without even thinking about it.

Your heart drops and for an instant, you think that he’s figured out that it’s you on the phone. You barely keep yourself from gasping but you manage to frown. “Kitty?” You ask, trying to seem curious rather than panicked. “Is that some kind of new nickname, Dieter?” You shake your head. “I appreciate the offer but I can’t take your money. I can’t pay you back.”

Dieter's eyes widen, unable to believe he called you that. It was a mistake and one he desperately wants to take back. You aren't Kitty, you are his assistant and just because he might have melded the two of you together one night when he was smoking weed doesn't mean you're the same person. He swallows, "I, uh, sorry. Thought I saw a cat." He gestures over to the empty space but Maury hates cats and usually barks his head off. You frown but he reaches out to touch your hand, "I know I have been an asshole but I want to be better. I want to help."

You bite your lip, looking into his eyes and are startled by how much he has changed since you’ve been talking to him on the phone. “Okay.” You relent with a sigh. “Maybe we can find a cheap used car? And I’ll pay you back every week. It might take me a million years, but I will.” You promise.

Dieter nods, “pick what you want. I - I don’t care about the budget. As long as it’s safe and works. I don’t want you breaking down on the side of the road and something happening to you.” Dieter says softly until he clears his throat, “It’s too much fucking hassle to find a good assistant nowadays.” He says, pulling down the blinds on his emotions as the waitress brings your beers.

You chuckle quietly, used to the offhanded comments that completely takes the sweetness out of whatever he has just done. Self sabotaging is what his therapist had told him. “And I’m the best.” You tease, picking up your beer and holding it up in salute before taking a sip.

Dieter can't argue there. He sets the water down for Maury and picks up his beer, "you are the best." He admits softly, his stomach twisting with an unknown emotion and he clears his throat when the waitress comes over to take your orders.

You order your tacos, grinning when Maury’s taco order is put in and then Dieter orders a plate very similar to yours. “When you wanted me to come here, I fell in love with the food.” You admit. “It’s tiny but it’s amazing.”

“Right? And it’s private. Probably my favorite part about it is that I don’t get bothered by paps or fans.” He confesses, “and it doesn’t hurt that the food is fucking incredible.” He winks, “how’s everything in your - your personal life?” Dieter asks, wanting to try and be more interactive with you like Kitty suggested.

“Nothing much.” You shrug vaguely. “Most nights I’m busy. I got another job.” You tell him. “One that won’t interfere with my job with you.” You add, not wanting him to think you would slack off. “Just been trying to focus on the future.”

Dieter hates to hear that you’ve gotten another job. “Why - why do you have another job? Am I not paying you enough?” He asks, concerned that you’re doing too much. He doesn’t want you to be worn out by working too hard.

You’ve talked to Dieter about your money issues as Kitty so you shake your head. “I’m bored at night. When we travel so much and have such odd hours, I can’t really have a social life. So I figured I could earn extra money to put away.”

Dieter leans back, taking in your answer, and he sighs. “I’m sorry. I guess I don’t think about your social life. I- I can be a dick. A selfish dick and I’m sorry that you don’t have a social life because of me.” He mumbles, his gaze cutting across the street.

“Don’t worry about that.” The need to comfort him makes you reach across the table and touch his hand. Something you wouldn’t have dreamed of doing a few months ago. “We have busy lives and I knew that when I came to work for you.”

Dieter turns his brown eyes back to yours, “I know. I- I don’t think I can keep doing this forever. It’s lonely. Not knowing who your real friends are. Not having a family. It’s, uh, it’s wearing me down now.” He confesses, squeezing your hand as he takes it in his.

“You are a talented, handsome and charming man.” You remind him. “If you want to have a family, there is someone out there that would be thrilled to make that commitment to you.” You promise, wishing you could tell him that you’ve been falling in love with him when you talk to him as Kitty. “They’d be crazy not to.”

Dieter snorts, “you can barely stand me. Imagine a partner? They’d kick me to the curb after I have to cancel too many dates because of last minute reshoots. Or someone who can’t sit by and watch me film sex scenes even though they are literally the least sexy thing ever. I can’t be dealing with that drama on top of everything else.” He sighs, shaking his head.

You hate that he’s pulled away, his hand slipping from yours as he wallows in self pity. “Your job is demanding and important. While yes, you have been a dick, you’ve been getting better. If someone couldn’t handle the scheduling and the sex scenes, they don’t deserve to be with you and reap the benefits of the career you’ve created.” You argue. “Get someone who doesn’t give a shit that you are ‘Dieter Bravo, Oscar winner”. Find someone who wants you, the man, not the fucking PR campaign.”

Dieter swallows harshly, knowing your words are pretty but his life is too ugly for most to understand, let alone see the real him. The insecure mess that has to console himself with drugs to just endure the day. “When you find that someone, let me know.” He chuckles softly, picking up his beer to take a long swig.

“Sure will.” You tell him, flashing him a grin even though you feel like crying. “Don’t complain when I remind you about this on your wedding day.”

Dieter snorts, “now that would be a fucking result.” He thinks about Kitty for a moment until the waitress comes over and sets your plates down. “Two taco plates and I’ll be back with the plate for the fur baby. You two make a super cute couple by the way.” She comments with a smile and strides off.

You stifle a giggled watching as Dieter seems to have some kind of internal struggle with how he should react to the compliment. “Don’t worry.” You reach for the bottle of hot sauce on the table. “I won’t read into it, or start calling you baby, slipping into your bed or anything.”

The way you say ‘baby’ itches his brain and he’s so sure he’s heard that before. It sounds so familiar. Part of him wants to say he wants you to slip into bed but he swallows that down. He lets out an awkward chuckle and picks up his taco, wanting to eat instead. The waitress brings the tacos for Maury and sets them down so the dog can dig in too.

“Good boy, Maury.” You coo as the older dog tears into the tacos. “Sweet potatoes are good for you.” You praise, picking up one of your own tacos to take a bite of it. “I’m so glad you got Maury. He’s such a sweetheart as it seems like you really love having him around.”

The “good boy” coming from your lips makes his cock twitch but he shoves that aside and murmurs “I love having him. He’s - he is the best.” Dieter smiles at the dog and goes back to his meal. “I’ll get this.” Dieter insists when the check comes up, “the least I can do. And seriously, look into another car. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Remember I need my job.” You smile, watching Dieter pay for dinner and you turn your attention back to Maury. “I promise I will start looking.” you tell him. “See what is out there.”

Dieter nods, satisfied with your answer, and he finishes his beer. “I’m sure you wanna get home. We have a long day tomorrow.” He says, standing up and bending down to pick up Maury’s lead.

“We do.” You know that you shouldn’t pry but you need to. “What are you going to do when you get home?” You ask curiously.

“I, uh, usually read my script for the next day and then I make some calls.” He says nonchalantly and as vaguely as possible. He wants to call Kitty as soon as he’s home, tell her about his day and how he’s trying to be a better person.

“That’s good. At least you have a plan.” You walk with him out of the tiny restaurant and towards your cars. “Well, I'm going to go home, you call me if you need anything, okay boss?”

Dieter nods, “thanks for having dinner with me.” He says and you offer him a smile that makes his stomach twist. “Of course.” He murmurs and guides Maury over to his car. He waits until you are in yours before he leaves. 

**** 

“Hey, Kitty Cat.” Dieter smiles when you pick up the phone, “how’s your day been?” He is always excited to hear your voice and listen to you.

“Hey baby.” You purr into the phone, feeling buoyed by your time off the phone with Dieter. “My day has been good, but it’s better now. How has yours been? Still enjoying taking Maury for walks after work?”

“Yes. I love taking him out on walks. He’s such a good boy.” He grins, loving how the dog he found in the shelter and he knows Kitty played a big part in him finding his dog. “I missed talking to you today.”

“Yeah? What did you want to talk to me about, baby?” You ask, grinning slightly because he has been talking to you, he just didn’t realize it was his Kitty. “Did something bad happen?”

“No. No. I just miss hearing your voice.” He smiles against the phone. He dreads to think about how much he’s spent on these calls but he knows that every penny helps Kitty out and he doesn’t begrudge that at all.

“You are always so sweet.” You tell him softly. “I don’t know why you keep calling yourself an asshole.” One thing that you’ve learned from these conversations is that Dieter has a horrible self image. He thinks the worst about himself in almost every sense and the bravado he puts on is just that, an act. “I’ve been thinking about you. How was your day?”

“It was good. I am getting closer to being done with my latest project at work and I’m working on building better relationships. I took my assistant to have tacos after we finished work. With Maury. It was fun. She - she’s so good at her job. I feel so guilty for not treating her properly for so long.”

“I’m so glad you had fun.” You tell him honestly, feeling like he’s not just telling you that. “Developing relationships with the people you work closely with is important, not just your ‘important’ people.” You remind him.

“I know. I know. I’m working on it.” Dieter sighs, rubbing his cheek, “I know I gotta work on being a better person.” He huffs, “trying my best but it never feels like it’s enough.”

“I’m sure that it’s enough.” You assure him. “You are a wonderful man, and I know that if you are trying to change bad habits, it’s being noticed.” You don’t want to dwell on it for too long. “So you had tacos? Do you have a favorite place?”

“Yeah. There’s this place. God, it’s over on Adams. It’s so good. They have this really nice outdoor area and it’s good for Maury because they have sweet potato tacos. Apparently they are good for him.”

“Oh that’s fantastic!” You hum excitedly while you sort through your mail. Grimacing at the bills. “I’ve heard they are. Something about making their coat healthy, I think.” You tell him. “Even better, he got to join you for dinner. I bet he loved it. How is your assistant liking Maury?”

“She loves him too. He’s really brought us together. She takes him out while I’m filming. I like to take him with me to my trailer. I don’t want him getting lonely while I’m working and I don’t want to leave him at home.” He explains not realizing he slipped up and told you about his real work, “what did you have for dinner?”

“Oh, I had some leftovers from dinner last night.” You lie. You hate doing it, but you can’t have too many coincidences. “I wish I had tacos. I love tacos.”

“I can buy you all the tacos you want.” Dieter blurts out, “I, uh, I mean, I want to buy you all the tacos you want. How’s work going? Is your boss being nicer?” Dieter asks, shifting from his spot on the sofa

“He’s getting better.” You sigh. “Although I don’t know if it’s going to last. He can change his colors like he changes his socks.” You laugh. “So you’re almost done with your work project? I bet you’re excited.”

“Yeah but then I have to go away for a press - pressing matter. I’ll be gone for a few weeks.” He nearly messes up and says press junket. With a sigh, he slumps down on his bed, Maury already snoring in his bed across the room.

“Oh, I hope nothing is wrong.” You offer, letting him slide on that little slip up. You know he’s trying to keep his profession a secret from Kitty. “If there is anything I can do, you let me know?”

“Yeah I will. I- I just want to hear your voice. You always sound so sweet. I bet you taste sweet too.” He says without really thinking. “I wanna taste you, Kitty Cat.”

"Ohhhh someone's horny tonight?" You hum, smiling against the phone. You know that Dieter hasn't been out with his PR date for a while and you've not had to call Uber for the random strangers that he could pick up and bring home when he's left to his own devices, so he's just not been getting any. Unless you count his hand. "Would you duck under the table and lick my pussy for me?"

Dieter groans, “yes. I’d risk it. Just to taste you. Get down under the table and spread your legs. Lick that sweet little pussy until your hand slams down on the table because you’re trying to keep quiet. Fuck, I’d do it. For you, I’d do anything.” He confesses, his cock hardening at the thought of touching you, tasting you.

You moan quietly, imagining Dieter Bravo sliding under a table in public and using his tongue on you. He is brazen enough to do it. “It would be so hard to keep quiet, I just know it.” You tell him breathlessly. “And I would do the same for you. Get down on my knees and suck your cock while you read. See how much you remember when my tongue is swirling around your cock and sucking on it.”

“When was the last time you had a slow, gentle blow job?” You ask, curious about his once vigorous sex life. “Someone taking their time and just drawing it out while you moan and relax. Maybe rubbing your puckered hole and fingering you while swallowing around you.”

“Jesus Christ.” Dieter hisses, “I don’t - I don’t remember. Usually it’s quick and urgent because I - I want to get to sex. God that sounds so good. You’d do that for me?” He asks breathlessly.

“Yes.” You promise him. “No matter how much you beg me to sit on your cock or let you fuck me, I’ll take my time. Slowly make you cum down my throat until you are slumped into your chair and unable to move, you are so relaxed.”

“Shit. You’re too good to me. After you make me cum, I’d want you to sit on my face. Use me to orgasm over and over. Wanna hear those pretty moans as you rock down onto my chin while I tongue fuck you.” He groans, “wanna taste you.”

“Fuck.” You feel yourself getting wet and your hand slides down to unbutton your jeans. “After I rode your face, would you want me to ride your cock? Or would you want to fuck me?”

“God, baby.” He groans, unable to help himself as he reaches down to squeeze himself through his boxers. “I want you to ride me. Want you to make yourself cum over and over again. I want you to deny me so you can get as much pleasure as you want. As you need.”

You wish he would let you ride him. Your attraction to Dieter has become almost painful and every night you think of him while you use your vibrator. “Yeah, baby? You’ll be my good boy and let me use that cock? Cum all over it until you are soaked with my cum?”

“Yes. Yes. I’ll be your good boy.” He promises, “I want to be your good boy.” He wraps his fingers around his aching cock. “Are you touching yourself, pretty girl?” He asks.

You whimper, sliding two fingers inside your wet cunt. “Yes.” You confess. “Are you stroking your cock? Thinking of me?”

“Yes. So hard. Pre-cum is literally leaking out of me. I think you’re so hot. So fucking hot.” He hisses when he squeezes his cock and starts to pump himself. “So fucking beautiful. I know you are. I know you’d look so pretty sitting on my cock. I wanna feel it. I wanna see it.” He whines with desperation.

“One day.” You feel so guilty when he talks of needing to meet you. Knowing that he is with you everyday and yet he is just now starting to get to know the real you. He would be so disappointed by the ruination of his fantasy girl. “Close your eyes and imagine me riding your cock baby.” You coo. “Tits bouncing and cunt tight around you.”

Dieter groans, closing his eyes like you asked and he sees his assistant. Mouth opening and moaning his name as she rides his cock. Fuck, he can see it. Can touch her. “Fuck, so pretty. I wanna - wanna see you cum.” He pants, speaking to his assistant, imagining her instead of Kitty. He knows it’s a lot to process, his feelings for both women, but he finds himself merging them together in instances like this.

“Oh fuck…” your fingers curl deep and you pant slightly when you find that spot deep inside you. “I’m going to baby, you’re gonna make me cum.” Any guilt you have at masturbating with Dieter on the phone has been left behind, enjoying yourself with him on the phone is what he wants. “My fingers aren’t as good as your cock. I bet your cock will make me scream.”

“Yes. Yes. God, I’d make you scream so loud the neighbors will call the police. I’d want you to soak my cock.” He pants, pumping his fist even harder, pulling down the foreskin to swipe the head with every move and he’s so close.

You moan nearly saying his real name but you just manage to cut yourself off. “Deee.” You pant, breathing heavily. “I need you to make me cum baby, I need it so bad.”

“Cum for me. Rub that pretty little clit for me baby.” He coos, his eyes still closed as he imagines his pretty assistant cumming on his cock. He is so close but he wants to hear you cum first. He needs to hear it. “Cum for me baby. Cum for me.”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” You whine, shaking as you move to rub your clit. You’re so close it only takes a few swipes of your fingers before you are flying. “Baby!” You choke out, legs shaking as you cum.

Hearing you cum sends Dieter over the edge. 

He lets out a strangled “fuck” before he orgasms, his cum spurting across his chest and his sheets and down his fist. “Fuck.” He pants, the words he wants to say are on the tip of his tongue but he swallows them down.

You hum quietly, basking in the aftershocks. “That was good baby, did you enjoy yourself? I love when we cum so close together.”

“Me too. So good. It’s always so good.” Dieter mumbles, lost in the pleasure, and he’s telling the truth. He has never cum this hard, even during orgies or with sexual partners one on one. That voice - it just hypnotizes him and he can’t hold back.

“I’m glad you enjoy yourself baby.” You coo softly. “I like talking to you every night. It’s the highlight of my day.” You admit with a smile. Every night you go to sleep right after hanging up with Dieter. You’ve even watched tv together sometimes.

“Same here.” He murmurs, knowing there’s so much to say but it’s unlikely you feel the same way. He’s certain a big part of this is you getting paid and that makes him feel dirty but he loves speaking to you. He’s become a better person because of you. “I, uh, I better clean up.” He murmurs, frowning at the way his heart pounds.

“Do you want to take a bath together or do you want me to let you go?” You frown slightly, aware that his tone has changed and you wonder if something is wrong. “It’s up to you.”

“I better get some sleep.” He says, confused by his feelings, “I’m gonna have a quick shower and get into bed.” He murmurs, shuffling out of his bed and into the bathroom. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” He asks, his heart aching and his head throbbing with confusion.

“Of course.” You frown slightly, wondering if you need to text him as his assistant from your other phone. “You can call me anytime baby, you know that.” You remind him. “Have a good night and sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Dieter smiles sadly against the phone. He’s fallen for the voice on the other end of the phone and he’s also fallen for his assistant. He’s torn. He knows his assistant, can touch her, but he doesn’t want to fuck up the best thing that’s happened to him with Kitty who he doubts would ever meet him in person. He’s shallow, one of his worst qualities, and he wonders if Kitty has something extremely wrong like a third leg or some weird shit like that and that’s why she won’t meet even though she’s in L.A. He sighs, head aching so he showers and finds some aspirin, passing out in his bed from emotional and mental exhaustion.

**** 

The next day, you can tell that there is something wrong with Dieter but you can’t quite figure out why. He’s quiet and subdued but you can feel his eyes on you as you go about setting his schedule and doing for him. “Is there anything else you need right now, boss?” You ask, sending him a reassuring smile as he looks up from his script. “I picked up your drying cleaning for the press junket, the outfits will look very good.”

“Great. Thanks for doing that.” Dieter offers you a small smile and he lays his script down in his lap. “Nothing else I need.” He says, “go take a break. I’m gonna take a nap, probably.” He says and you nod, reaching for your purse but you leave your backpack on the floor. After so long working with Dieter, it’s become a habit to have a second bag with essentials just in case you end up staying overnight somewhere or need a change of clothes. You leave and Dieter sighs, rubbing his cheek. He is battling within himself and he doesn’t know what to do. He sighs and reaches for his phone, deciding to dial the familiar number to see what his heart truly wants. Selecting Kitty’s number, he listens to the dial tone and he’s confused when he hears a ringtone coming from your backpack. He’s never heard that tone before. He frowns when Kitty doesn’t answer and the phone stops ringing from your bag. Deciding to try again, he’s even more confused when the ringtone sounds once again. Ever curious, he gets up and opens your bag, knowing it’s wrong but he soon locates the small flip phone. His cell hangs up and the phone stops ringing. He can’t help it. He rings again and the contact on the flip phone comes up with “Dieter/Daniel” and he feels sick. Staring at the phone as it rings, he doesn’t know what to think. You’re Kitty. This is Kitty’s phone. You’re the same person.

After getting your drink, you realize that you had forgotten your laptop. Figuring that you would sit outside at craft services and do a little writing while Dieter naps. He should be back in his bedroom in the trailer, so you will slip inside and grab it. Opening the door, and stepping inside, your eyes widen when you see Dieter holding the familiar flip phone that you use every night when you talk to him. Your heart drops and want to shrink back when he turns his eyes towards you and his expression is devastated. “Dieter, I-“

“You’re - It’s you. You’re Kitty?” He practically chokes as he stares at you in shock. “You- you’re the one I’ve been talking to every night. You didn’t - oh my God. You didn’t tell me it was you and I’ve been- shit. I- holy fuck. It’s you.” He chokes, trying to mentally piece everything together but his body feels like it’s on fire and he doesn’t know what to do.

“Dieter, I- I can explain.” You start pathetically. “I wanted to say something, to tell you, but I thought you just wanted the fantasy. That you would be upset when you found out I knew.”

Dieter shakes his head, getting angry. “Was this a fucking joke to you? ‘Oh my poor fucking boss. He can afford to pay me and also pay my sex line. And I’ll laugh at him while we talk’  I bet you were sat there trying to hold back the tears from laughing while I - while I fucking jerked off. I bet you got off the phone and had a good fucking giggle about how pathetic I am and how much you were getting from me. Am I - do I look like a fucking idiot? Is that why you did this?” He asks, tears stinging in his eyes at the betrayal.

“No.” You gasp, shaking your head. “It wasn’t like that at all. I promise you-“ 

“You fucking lied to me!” Dieters shouts, making you jump at the venom in voice. 

Your own eyes start to water. “I didn’t laugh at you.” You insist. “Our - our talks were real.”

Dieter shakes his head, stepping back from you. “You were laughing at me. I bet you thought this was some kind of revenge, huh? Make me look dumb. Get me to tell you all my fucking secrets and then you’d - what? Blackmail me? Sell it to the Enquirer or TMZ?” He chokes, feeling betrayed by the two women in his life that have turned out to be the same person.

“Never.” You promise him, shaking your head and your heart breaking. His expression is pure disgust and you want to cry. “I’d never tell anyone. I just- I started working phone sex because I needed the money. And you called and I was surprised but then I liked talking to you, I really enjoyed our calls.”

“Bullshit. I know you hate me. I know I make your life hell. Why- why would you do this?” Dieter chokes, “why would you do this to me? Why didn’t you tell me right away that it was you?”

“I was embarrassed!” You snap. “I had to take a phone sex job so I didn’t lose my apartment or ruin my credit.” Your own tears start running down your cheeks. “I was- I don’t know. I didn’t think you would want to know that the girl you were jerking off to was the same one who brought you your coffee and couldn’t possibly get your fucking lunch order right.”

Dieter shakes his head again, in complete disbelief. “I don’t give a fuck. I - you should’ve told me. I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I- I told you - I told you so many things I’ve never told anyone and you didn’t say a word.” He swears he’s about to cry but he stays strong enough to say “you’re fired. Get your shit and get the fuck out of my trailer.”

You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut, knowing you can’t afford to lose your job. Not for long. You can barely see through your tears as you grab your bag and take off the key to Dieter’s house that was on your key ring. Finally, you hold your hand out for the flip phone that is still in Dieter’s hand. “I’m sorry.” You offer quietly.

Dieter can’t talk, he slaps the phone into your hand, his brown eyes watery as he watches you and he hates losing you but the betrayal cuts him deep right now. He stares as you take the phone and he lets you walk out of the trailer, his heart breaking with every step you take.

You rush to your car, not acknowledging anyone and barely keeping it together until you get behind the wheel. Once safe, you break down, sobbing and leaning your head against the steering wheel as you cry. You don’t know what just happened but you know that Dieter hates you.

Dieter slumps down in the chair, confused and feeling betrayed by you. You concealed this information from him and he’s so hurt that you could be so deceptive. “Fuck!” He growls, reaching out and shoving everything off of the table in front of him. 

**** 

A few days pass with Dieter having to lie to his management about why he fired you. Even worse, he keeps picking up his phone to call you. He wants to call Kitty, to talk about how he feels, but Kitty is you and you are Kitty. His head still aches at the news, his heart is broken at the news that the women he fell in love with are one and the same which he should be overjoyed about but she lied. He picks up his phone for the fiftieth time and finally, he snaps. He tosses the phone so hard it hits the wall, smashing, and he pants as he stares at it until the realization hits. He rushes over to pick it up, pressing the button to turn it on. “No. No. No.” He panics. He doesn’t know your number or Kitty’s number by heart. It’s gone. His last connection to you is gone.

No one will hire you. Your eyes water when the last agency, a sketchy one, tells you that you’ve been blacklisted. Becoming an assistant for another celebrity is out of the question, Dieter went scorched earth out of spite apparently. It hurts just as bad as that first night that he didn’t call you. You had expected it. More questions, possibly a drunk former boss accusing you of leaking his secrets but the silence had hurt you even more. You sigh and shake your head. You had been hired on to work as a waitress in a diner, odd shifts that no one wanted and yet you know you need another job too. You just need to find one.

Dieter is glad the movie has finished and he may have gotten drunk at the wrap party. He had offers from people on set and from the studio to go home with him but he ended up going home alone, unable to go home with anyone after he had such a connection with Kitty/you. He gets into the car he was assigned for the evening and he orders the driver to go to your house. He gets out and rings the doorbell after he arrives and he slumps down on the doorstep when you aren’t in. He isn’t sure how long he waits there until your car pulls into the driveway.

Getting home, you sigh as you put the car into park and curse yourself for ever accepting Dieter’s help getting a new car. It’s just another crushing debt on you and despite the fact that he had fired you, you were still going to pay him back for every penny. You needed to make sure that you made it to your next shift so you could send the money to his accountant like you have been. Dieter would never know, but you would and you hadn’t even been late on a payment so far. Now you just need to get into your apartment and sleep for the next four hours so you can be up for your next job on time. Slowly climbing out of the car, you realize someone is waiting on the doorstep and you warily approach with your keys in your fist until you recognize your former boss. “Dieter!” You huff, too exhausted to even be relieved it’s not someone robbing you. “What are you doing here? Go home, I’ve got four hours of sleep to get.” You move past him to unlock your door.

Dieter stumbles as he stands up, “no. No. I won’t leave. Not until -” He hiccups, “until you tell me why- why you did it? Was it to mess with me? Or did you want to do something to fuck with my head? Or was it funny? I want to know why.” He says, waving his arms around.

“I didn’t call you, you called me, remember?” You hiss, pushing your door open and your feet are killing you. It’s late and you are exhausted. All you want to do is take your bra off and sleep for a few hours before you have to go back to work. “I was shocked when you called and I- I was curious if you were as big of a dick to everyone as you were to me.” You tell him, “happy? Now go home. I have to sleep.”

Dieter shakes his head, following you into your place and he repeats his question, “why did you do it? Keep talking to me? We - I told you things about myself that I haven’t told anyone. Why did you not - why didn’t you tell me?” He chokes, hating you and loving you all at the same time.

“Dieter-“ you turn around, ready to kick him out and fall into your bed, but his face is scrunched up and sad. Making you think of a kicked puppy. “Because I liked talking to you.” You admit with a sigh. “I- learning about you helped me understand why you were a dick. I just-“ you shake your head and your ears nearly pop when you yawn. “I told you things too, but I was afraid that you would fire me.” You snort. “And I was right. But I’m not going to tell anyone what you said or the fact that you called a phone sex line. Happy? Now please.” You motion towards the door. “I have three hours and fifty-two minutes of sleep I can get before I have to be at my next job.”

“You got another assistant job?” Dieter asks, shifting to sit down on your sofa and he looks up at you, ignoring the fact you need to get to sleep. 

“No. No. You managed to get me black listed, remember?” You scoff and Dieter frowns, “I didn’t do that. I swear. My manager must’ve done that. To protect my privacy.” He says, “and to - to stop me from bumping into you. I swear, I didn’t get you black listed.” He insists. 

“I have like three fucking jobs to stop me going bankrupt and to pay you back for the car you made me get.” 

Dieter shakes his head, “I was trying to make your life better because I- I realized how much of a dick I was and I wanted to be better for you. Because of you - you as Kitty.”

You sigh again, aware that you aren’t going to get to sleep until Dieter says what he needs to. You flop down onto your couch next to him and groan in pain, sore from the long shifts on your feet. “And I wasn’t trying to manipulate you.” You promise. “I didn’t use any information you gave me when I was working for you. I kept things separate, but it made me want to be better for you too.”

Dieter nods, knowing you are exhausted but he needs this closure. He swallows harshly, his throat suddenly dry as a dessert and he glances at you, “I love you. You know that? You as Kitty and you as you. I fucking love you.” He confesses, his eyes wide and glassy.

Your eyes close and your head tilts back against the cushions. “I love you too.” You confess with a small groan. “I fell in love with you while we were talking on the phone. I was scared. You never looked at me twice when I was me, your assistant me.”

Dieter squeezes his fists on his thighs, “I - I was so mad when I found that phone. Knowing that I’m in love with you. I was so fucking angry because I don’t do emotions. I don’t do connections. It gets messy and I was right. I can’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t - I wanted to call. So many times. I even broke my fucking phone and then I freaked out because your numbers are on that phone and I couldn’t remember them. I didn’t know them. I- I - shit. Are you the same? Was it all an act or do you really love me?” He asks, wanting an answer.

“I cried when you didn’t call.” You admit softly, rolling your head forward so you can look at him. “I- talking to you had become part of me. I would ache to talk to you, to just ramble about hopes and dreams, to listen to you. I want to tell you, so many times, but I hated that you might not want me.” You sigh heavily. “It wasn’t an act.” It wasn’t, not when you spent all night talking to him and wishing you could hold him while you slept. “I really love you, Dieter. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Baby. I-I love you.” He murmurs, “I don’t want you to work three jobs. I’ll- I’ll pay you double if you come back to me. I want to help you out. I want you by my side. Please, don’t leave me.” He pleads, reaching for your hands to squeeze them.

It sounds amazing but you shake your head. “I can’t- you already fired me once.” You remind him. “I can’t be trapped by your whims. Firing me if you get upset at me? I can’t do that.”

“I’ll have my manager put it in writing that I have to have a legitimate reason if I fired you again. I swear, I wouldn’t, I’m not that person anymore. I don’t want to lose you. I need you. I promise you that I will be better. I’ll have my manager put it in writing.” Dieter promises, not wanting to lose you.

“Dieter….” You’re too exhausted to really think about it. “I need some sleep. Either go home, or let me sleep.” You tell him. “I can’t even think right now.”

“Go shower. I’ll call Cynthia while you shower so she can get something in writing before you make your decision. I’ll make you some tea and get you a snack for you to have.” He says, completely out of his normal character but he loves you, he wants to be better.

You nod, finding that sounds amazing to not have to think. “Okay. I’ll go shower.” You moan, taking a long minute to shuffle off the couch and stand.

He watches you go and stands up to boil your kettle. He gets a good look around your place and he wrinkles his nose. He can tell you've tried to make the best of it but it's in bad condition, clearly a shitty landlord, and he feels guilty for living in a big Sherman Oaks mansion alone while you live here.

You shuffle to the bathroom, uneasy that Dieter is in your house, but you are too tired to really worry about it. stripping down and groaning at the lukewarm water that seems to be all hot water heater can produce lately. "Shit." You close your eyes and you wonder if Dieter meant what he said, if you could possibly go back to one job, maybe your phone sex job too for extra money, but not be working yourself into the ground. You wash and when you go to dress, the urge to lay down once your panties are on is overwhelming and you stretch out, immediately closing your eyes.

Dieter prepares your cup of tea and grabs a snack before he makes his way into your bedroom. His eyes widen and he nearly drops the mug in his hand when he sees you laid out on your bed topless and wearing panties. Jesus, you’re beautiful. He realizes after a moment and averts his eyes, setting the tea and snack on the dresser, then he grabs the blanket on the bed, managing to get it out from under you so he can cover you up. He doesn’t want to leave so he quickly rushes outside to tell his driver to go and then he locks up your place, making sure the front door is secure. He’s exhausted himself so he toes off his shoes and shrugs off his jacket and he wants to be close to you. It’s wrong, he should sleep on the sofa, but he makes his way into your room and lays down on the bed beside you, a good distance and a blanket away but he’s immediately comforted. He falls asleep within moments, his hand reaching for you.

When you wake up, the first thing that you notice is the light coming through the blinds, making you gasp as you bolt upright. You’ve overslept. The blanket bunches at your waist and you see Dieter sleeping next to you, reaching out in his sleep as he does. “Dieter! Oh shit, I’ve - fuck! I overslept.” You scramble out of the bed, not concerned with the fact that you are topless but you wonder if he covered you up as you rush towards your dresser to pull clothes out. “Fuck, I’m going to get fired.”

Dieter is woken up by your panic and he squints, hair everywhere as he sees you trying to pull clothes on. “Wha- what’s wrong?” He rasps, still sleepy but doesn’t stop his eyes from taking in your ass in those tiny panties.

“I overslept!” You don’t turn around, too busy pulling out clothes to wear. “I- my alerts didn’t go off and I’m going to be late.” You curse and fling another shirt out of your way. You’ve been so busy you’ve just shoved your clothes into the drawers.

Dieter shakes his head, “no. No. You don’t have to go. I - I promised I’d pay you double to come back to me.” He says, confused about your panic and the way you’re shoving your bra on. “Please baby, Don’t put yourself through this shit. Let me help you.”

“Huh?” You stop, turning towards him and frowning in confusion. “You really want- I still need to work my shift.” You tell him. “I can’t just quit without warning.”

“You can and you will.” He says, narrowing his eyes slightly, “you are exhausted. You can barely walk. You can’t - I don’t want to lose you.” He chokes, “please baby. Don’t leave.”

Shoulders slumping, you nod, knowing you can’t continue to keep working at this pace. You are killing yourself. “O-okay.” You agree. “I’ll stay.”

Dieter’s grin is wide as you agree to stay. “Excellent. I’ll call my manager to reinstate you.” He promises, “with double pay.” He glances around your home, “I- I wish you’d told me this is where you live.” He says and you scoff, “why? So you can judge it.” 

He shakes his head, “because I would’ve offered to let you live with me.”

You snort, “there’s no way you would want your assistant to live with you.” You remind him. “It’s a place to live, and it’s what I can afford.” You shrug slightly. “I have worked hard and I’m hoping that I will be able to move sometime next year.” 

“I wouldn’t have wanted my assistant to live with me. I would want you to live with me.” He clarifies, “please baby. Move in with me. I want to take care of you.” He pleads, feeling a little desperate and he feels you slipping through his fingers.

“Dieter….” You don’t know what you can possibly say when he is begging you to move in with him. “If- if I do this, I want to contribute.” You tell him. “I need to, I can’t just live off you. I won’t be like your friends who take and take and never give anything back.” You need him to know that you don’t want him to just take care of you, you want to take care of him as well. 

That makes Dieter fall for you even more. He reaches for your hands, “I don’t want you to be my friend. I want you to be my lover, my partner, my - my girlfriend.” He says, his brown eyes soft as he looks at you. “I fell in love with you as Kitty and as you. I was torn, thinking I had issues because I was in love with two women but it turns out they were the same person. I love you. I want you back in my life. I want to provide for you.”

“And I want to provide for you.” You squeeze his hands in return. “A safe place for you to vent, to talk about your worries and fears. A home for you to relax in and not be judged.” You bite your lip. “I want to talk to you in person, actually lay in a bathtub with you while we do, rub your sore back and make you feel loved. Remind you that you aren’t alone.” 

Dieter smiles and leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “Baby. I love you.” His hands let go of yours so he can grab your waist, dragging you up against his body. “I know I’m not easy to love. I know we will argue. I know I’ll piss you off but I want that. I don’t want easy. I don’t want simple. I want you.”

“You have me.” You promise, caressing his cheek and leaning in to press your lips to his. The first kiss gentle. “You’ve had me and I don’t care if we fight.” You smile. “I’m sure you’ll call me to make up.” 

Dieter grins, his heart pounding with happiness and he cups your cheek, “I love you. So much.” He murmurs and presses his lips against yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth, his hands squeezing your waist and his mind goes blank to anything but you.

Moaning, you sink into the kiss, your fingers sliding into his hair like you’ve always wanted to do. He’s a fucking good kisser and it makes you dizzy. Pulling back and smiling at him, you bite your lip. “We aren’t on the phone.” You remind him. “Soooooo we can actually experience some of those things we talked about.”

Dieter smiles, his hands sliding down to squeeze your ass. “Later. Right now, I just wanna feel you. I- I can’t believe you’re here and it’s you. I want to experience the emotion and the kinks can be explored later.” He murmurs, kissing your jaw and down your neck as he reaches for the hem of the t-shirt you threw on. He pulls back reluctantly so he can pull it over your head and he groans at the sight of your tits when he throws the shirt to the floor. “Fuck. You’re so gorgeous.” He groans, kissing down your chest until he’s able to take your nipple into his mouth.

He apparently wants soft and slow. Making you smile as you realize that he had slept in his pants. “I know you love your sweats but I want them off of you.” You hook your fingers under the threadbare band and start to tug them down. “Did you change after the party or did you wear these to your wrap party, baby?”

Dieter chuckles, “I changed in the car. I hate those fucking tight pants. Always take a change of clothes with me.” He confesses and you giggle, knowing that Dieter hates wearing any clothes at all when he is at home. You push them down and he’s blushing because he’s already hard. Just the thought of you has him on edge.

“Fuck.” You wrap your fingers around his hard cock and roll the foreskin down. “You don’t know how many times I imagined doing this. Just touching you while you tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.” He moans when you squeeze him gently. “How many times I touched myself thinking about it.”

“You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off. I haven’t been with anyone since that first week we started talking. No one made me feel the same.” He confesses, breaths heavy as you squeeze him and he’s groaning your name - your real name - as you pump his cock. His hands find your panties and he pushes them halfway down your thighs so he can sink his fingers between your folds to rub your clit.

The first touch has your eyes rolling back and moaning his name. “Dieter.” You pant, shuddering at the way his fingers slip through your folds. “I- I need you.” You admit quietly. “I have - I haven’t been with anyone in a year.” You promise. “I’m clean, but- but I’m not on birth control.”

Dieter groans, "do you - do you have condoms? Or I can pull out?" He offers, wanting you to be comfortable and tell him what you want. His fingers slow on your clit, giving you a moment to think about what you want.

“I-“ your mouth drops open and your hips rock towards his fingers, chasing the feeling. “Don’t pull out.” You suggest breathlessly. “Cum inside me.” It’s a risk, especially since this relationship is new, but you want to risk it. “I - I shouldn’t be- but if I do- I want- your baby.” You manage to pant out, your thoughts jumbled.

“Shit.” Dieter hisses, lost in the idea of you pregnant with his child. If anyone else had said that, he’d be running out of the door but the thought of you pregnant with his child has his cock twitching. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.” He groans and he shifts his fingers so he can push two inside of you, wanting to stretch you out for him.

Your mouth presses against his neck, whining into his skin and deciding that you will make that dream of marking him come true. Sucking on his skin as he fingers you, your walls clench down around him.

Dieter pants when you squeeze his cock and he twists his wrist so he can press his thumb to your clit. “So tight around my fingers. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock. God, you’re so - so incredible,” he murmurs and turns his head so he can kiss you again.

You whine into his mouth and squeeze him again. “On the bed.” You pant, eager to have him deep inside you. “Please Dee, I need you.”

He reluctantly withdraws his fingers, unable to deny you, and he kicks off his sweats and pulls his shirt over his head. He’s older now, no longer the lean mean actor he used to be when he did Hunger Strike and he’s a little self conscious of that.

“Fuck.” You bite your lip and step up to him, caressing his chest. “How do you want our first time?” You ask softly, enjoying the softness of his skin and the slight muscle underneath.

“I want you on top.” He decides, knowing he wants to watch you, to worship you, like he’s dreamed of doing so many times. Like that last phone call when he imagined you riding him while he was on the phone to Kitty. “Please baby.” He whines, growing impatient as his cock throbs.

You smirk as you push him back onto your bed and straddle his hips. Grinding your wet cunt against his cock just to hear him moan and jerk his hips up. “Let me ride you then, baby.” You coo, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock again so you can impale yourself on him. Your eyes on his as you slowly start to sink down.

“Holy shit. I - shit. Fuck.” He chokes, his hands finding your hips and he can hardly breathe. “Fuck baby. I- I don’t - Jesus Christ.” He pants, his cock twitching violently inside of you as you take him inside of you and his eyes drift down to your pussy lips stretching around his length.

“Fuck Dieter.” You whine softly, your eyes slipping closed and you tilt your head back. “So good, fuck, you’re so thick.” You’ve seen his cock, had your hand around it, but it hadn’t prepared you for feeling him inside you. It’s like he’s pushing against your guts and you’re glad you can set the pace this first time together. “I love you.” Your hands slide to his chest and brace there before you open your eyes and lean down to kiss him.

He groans into your mouth, his hands caressing your back as he enjoys the way you feel around him. He can’t believe you’re sitting on his cock. He feels so lucky and he doesn’t plan on letting you go. His tongue slides into your mouth as his hands grip your ass, squeezing and encouraging you to move.

Rocking slowly, you don’t build up a pace that is anything but languid. Wanting to draw this out and make it last. You run your fingers through his hair and moan into his mouth.

He is lost in the sensations of you.

The smell of you. The sounds you are moaning out, and he loves it. He whimpers into your mouth, his hands caressing every inch of you he can reach.

You slowly rock on his lap, every kiss slow and full of emotion. Despite being on top, this feels like making love. Holding tight to one another and making the most out of your first time together.

“God, I love you. Imagined this so many times. So many goddamn times. With my fingers around my cock. Imagining it was you. Wanted you for so long.” He pants, thrusts up into you when you lean forward to kiss him again.

“I love you, Dieter.” You moan, smiling down at him and caressing his cheek. “I fell in love with you on the phone and couldn’t imagine you wanted me, but I wanted you.”

He offers you a love struck smile as you look down at him and he swears his heart is about to beat out of his chest and he knows you can feel it. He wants you to cum so he thrusts up into you, wrapping his arms around you to keep you close.

“Dieter.” You squeal, collapsing against him and kissing his neck while he takes over. “Oh fuck baby, your cock is so thick. So good inside me.”

up into you, a little faster but this is still slower than frantic sex he’s ever had. “It’s because - fuck - fuck you’re so tight, Kitty Cat.” He gasps the nickname he gave you. “I need you to cum for me.” He pleads, his fingers digging into your ass.

“Gonna.” You pant, grinding down on him as gasping when the curl, short hairs above his cock catch your clit just right. Providing the friction you needed to send you flying. “Deee!” You cry out, shaking and coming apart in his arms as you soak his cock.

He groans as you clamp down on his cock, making him moan your name. “That’s it baby. That’s it. Fuck.” He pants, normally boastful of his stamina but you send him over the edge. He pants as he thrusts up into you, “can I - inside? Or no?” He asks, needing permission before he cums inside of you.

“Inside.” You moan, desperate to feel him paint the inside of your womb with his hot seed. Even if it does not take, you want to feel it. You will go get on birth control if he’s not quite ready for the responsibility of a child. But you track your period and you should be safe.

Dieter groans, thrusting up and inside of you, and he thrusts a half dozen more times until he’s pushing deep and painting your walls with his hot seed. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He hisses, lost in the pleasure and he tilts his head back, eyes clenched shut.

You kiss along his jaw and clench around him, enjoying the way that he moans your name when he’s pump the last spurt of cum inside you. “That was amazing.” You giggle. “I love you. I love you, baby.”

“Is this real life?” Dieter asks and you giggle. 

You caress his cheeks, “it’s real.” 

Dieter opens his eyes to look at you, “you’re real. I can’t believe it. I’m so fucking lucky.” He murmurs, kissing your chin.

“I’m lucky.” You feel more relaxed than you have in a long time, snuggling against his chest and tilting your head up to kiss his jaw. “I love you.”

Dieter caresses your back and closes his eyes, feeling like he’s where he belongs. With you. He just needs to get you back to his home so he can look after you.

****

“Baby! I’m home!” Dieter shouts as he comes into the hallway balancing his backpack and the take out he picked up on his way home. “I got the tacos!” He shouts and Maury jumps up to greet his daddy as he comes into the house. “Hey boy. You been looking after your mama?” Dieter asks and Maury barks. Dieter carries the bag into the kitchen and finds you sitting on the sofa, reading on your phone. Anything good?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No. Just researching what the best pre-school is. The other moms at the prenatal class are already signing their babies up and they aren’t even born yet.” 

Dieter snorts, coming to sit beside you and his hand finds your bump. “Hey, baby boy.” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss your bump. He brings his head up to kiss your lips. “Hey mama.” He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours. “Don’t worry about that. Our baby is a Bravo. He’s gonna be first on the list.”

“Yeah?” You giggle quietly. “You gonna flirt with the admissions personnel?” You ask, covering his hand with your own. Since that first day at your apartment, things have changed drastically. He had moved you into his Sherman Oaks mansion immediately and true to his word, he had a contract written up to protect your job from rash firings. He had also added clauses that would give you time to find another place to live if things didn't work out. Although they have, beautifully. You are expecting his first baby within the next two months and you’ve never seen a more eager father. He’s still letting you look after his schedule, but he has you working at home when he’s going to spend long days at the studio, his schedule open for the next six months after this project wraps. He wants to be home to bond with the baby.

“I only flirt with you, Kitty Cat.” He promises with a chuckle, “buuuuuuuuut maybe a little eye flutter from Oscar Winner Dieter Bravo might get him admission into the best damn preschool in town.” He says with a confidence he didn’t have before he started talking to you. 

“Mmm. If it’s for our boy, we can figure something out.” You tease and Dieter kisses you. 

“But you are my number one.” He promises, “that’s why I’m gonna marry you.” He says and you rear back. He’s never really mentioned marriage. Kids, yes, but not marriage. “Marry me.” He murmurs, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“Dieter.” You bite your lip and reach out to caress his cheek. “Are you sure? We don’t have to get married.” His ex-wife had been a bit contributor to his badly beaten self image. “I love you no matter what I am to you legally.”

“I want you to be my wife. I want to be your husband. I want you. Forever. Our family.” He murmurs and caresses your bump. “I love you, Kitty Cat. Marry me. Be mine.” He requests, “I - I gotta get a ring and I should ask you in a fancy restaurant but - shit. I’m doing this all wrong?”

“No.” You promise him, beaming as you lean in and kiss him. “You aren’t doing it all wrong. The only way it could have been any better is if you had proposed over the phone.” You tease, your love of talking on the phone hasn’t diminished since you’ve lived together, just changing to times when you can’t be together due to his work schedule.

Dieter offers you that awkward half smile as he looks at you, waiting for your answer. “So, uh, are you - is that a yes?” He asks, biting his lip.

“Of course I will marry you.” You giggle when you realize you hadn’t answered him and you kiss him again. “I would love to marry you, Dieter Bravo.”

Dieter cups your cheek, “I love you, Mrs Bravo. Soon to be Mrs Bravo.” He grins, excited to be your husband and for you to be his wife. He never imagined his entire life would change when he decided to call the sex hotline but fuck, he’s so glad he did. His life has changed for the better and all he had to do was open his eyes and see what was in front of him the entire time: His assistant. His Kitty Cat. The mother of his child. His wife.

[phantom-0-writer]

prompt 03: angry colors

inspired by this post abt dick

tbh idr like this that much but it was a real big brain itch so i thought i'd air it out

-

Dick came back to his apartment much later than he intended, losing track of time while he was tracking a lead he had gotten for a case. He sighed as he slipped through the window of his apartment, taking off his domino ready to face the mess he knew he had left the apartment as. But when he turned into the kitchen the dishes that had been piling up in the sink were gone, and the sink was even cleaned and shining in a way Dick hadn’t seen it ever do. Instinctively he checked the cabinets to check if he had been robbed, but the dishes were inside, clean, dry and put away.

Confused, Dick opened the fridge to get a cold glass of water only belatedly remembering he had forgotten to fill the jug up in his rush to get to work that morning. But there it was, full of water, the frost around the glass providing evidence it had been in there for at least a few hours. Maybe past-Dick had done him a favor that present-Dick had forgotten about. 

Gulping down the cold water, Dick headed towards the bathroom to freshen up and change into comfy sweats. The bathroom was through the living room, where he knew he would find a tower of pizza boxes weeks old, and crumbs would crunch under his feet. There was a pile of dirty laundry that was left in his bathroom floor that he should probably take care of, but Dick couldn’t find the energy in himself to put in the effort. 

“Maybe tomorrow.” Dick mumbled to himself for the 5th time that week, as he trudged through his apartment. His crystal clean apartment. There were vacuum marks on the carpet, no pizza boxes, and the pillows on the couch had been arranged and fluffed. The flowers Kory had given him were pruned and placed beautifully in a glass vase he knew hadn’t been there that morning. The TV was on, he noticed, his current show ready to play at the press of a button, and remote placed on the corner of the sofa he always sat at. 

“What is happening?” Dick asked himself out loud, befuddled. He checked the room for cameras or listening devices. Nothing. 

Alfred wasn’t the type to drop by for a surprise visit and leave without telling Dick. 

The bathroom was also a victim to whatever happened to the rest of his apartment. The floor had been mopped, the clothes were gone, the toilet, shower, and sink were clean and organized. There was even a clean towel and Dick’s favorite lounge set ready folded by the shower. The grime on Dick’s body felt out of place in the pristine apartment. 

Dick would definitely be looking the gift horse in the mouth. But maybe it could wait after he showered. 

While he showered, Dick let his mind wander. He thought about the strange newfound cleanliness of the apartment, wondering what or why it could’ve been. Was this another Tim situation? Something nagged at the back of Dick’s mind, something important, but he couldn’t remember what. 

That something important was in the living room, head snapping in Dick’s direction as the bathroom door opened, and standing at attention. 

Holy shit. Dick forgot he had a kid. He’d forgotten a whole child was living with him now.

Oh, he was such a dick. 

“I didn’t hear the door so I didn’t know you were home yet.” The boy- Daniel - rushed to explain when he caught Dick’s eyes on him. 

Still grappling with the fact that he had fully forgotten there was a child he was supposed to be taking care of now, Dick said the first reasonable response that came to mind. “I used the window,” Daniel already knew about Dick’s night job as Nightwing thanks to the circumstances Dick had found him under. 

Dick wasn’t sure why that answer had elicited a panicked apology from the 8 year old. But Dick wasn’t sure what had happened to Daniel before he had found him, but apparently they would have to dig into that at 4:30 AM. Maybe Dick should call off work tomorrow. 

Dick tried to get closer to Daniel but when his shoulders seemed to go impossibly more stiff, Dick took the sign to stay in his spot and kneeled on one leg so he would be face level with Daniel. “Daniel,” Dick made sure his voice was calm and inviting but the boy still flinched, “Did you clean the apartment?” 

“Yes, sir.” There was fear in Daniel’s eyes that Dick couldn’t help but be concerned by, but his voice was even when he spoke. 

“Why?” Dick asked calmly, making sure to keep his body language open. 

Daniel looked startled by the question, eyes darting over Dick trying to find the answer he thought Dick was looking for. When he couldn’t find it he looked around the room. Dick watched him, waiting for his response. “Because,” Daniel started hesitantly, voice shaking slightly, “Because it was dirt- messy.” his voice was a whisper as he spoke. 

“But you didn’t make that mess, so why did you clean it?” Dick prompted, fearing for where he could see this conversation going. 

“So you- so that-” Daniel looked like he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond. 

“I want you to be honest, Daniel. You won’t get in trouble.” Dick added quietly. 

Daniel tried to decipher if he was lying, a familiar analytical look in his eyes. After a long moment Dick wondered if he just wouldn’t respond. But when Daniel answered, it hadn’t been at all what he had been expecting. “So that you wouldn’t be angry at me.”

Coupled with his earlier fumble of forgetting the kid, Dick felt like he had just been gutted. “What?” Dick heard himself say. Daniel looked alarmed at the reaction, so Dick spoke again quickly. “I’m not angry at you Danny,” a nickname he had given the boy slipped onto his tongue, “I’m not angry at all why would you think so?” 

Tears were beginning to well in Daniel’s eyes, “You are angry.” He sounded scared, his voice wobbly. 

“I promise I’m not angry. Or mad. Or annoyed. Or irritated.” Dick reassurances seemed to do nothing for the boy. The reservoir under Daniel’s eyes was getting fuller, threatening to spill. So he tried a different approach, “What makes you think I’m angry, Danny?” 

“Because the-” Daniel tried to find the words, so Dick waited. “Your heart has angry colors.” He finally said.

Dick tried to decipher what that meant. Angry colors? He’d have to circle back to that later. “So you cleaned the apartment because you thought I was angry?” Dick summarized. 

Daniel nodded, he considered something for a moment. “Jazz said that if you’re good at something then people will like you and not be angry. And I’m good at cleaning.” 

“Did the people you were with before get angry at you a lot?” Dick asked, trying to keep his promise of not getting angry. 

“That’s why I cleaned.” Daniel nodded. 

Dick forced himself to stay calm. He may have a meta child that could sense emotions in his hands and he did not want to test that theory by blowing up in front of him. 

Not a child- he corrected himself- his child. Danny was his son. And maybe Dick didn’t know how to be a dad, but he knew how not to be a dad. And that had to be some kind of start. Today would be a one time thing, Dick promised himself, and Danny would never know and never feel like he was forgotten much less by his dad.

He would save the conversation about that for the morning, after a good night's sleep. “How about some ice cream, since you worked so hard?”

[ruvviks]

// favorite female character poll.

tagged by; @elgaravel, thank you so much!!

tagging; anyone who wants to do this, i think i'm late to the party so i have no idea who has already done this ;_;

rules: make a poll of your favourite female characters (no limits - as many or as little as you want) and see which your followers like the most!

[brian-kinney-apologist]

i might just be delulu but the fact that they're all keeping so quiet about the daniel/armand side of that triangle aside from pointing out the obvious that armand fucked with his head and now daniel is pissed, the fact they're not even touching book lore with a ten foot pole has me very suspicious. almost like they don't wanna talk about it 'cause they know they're diving into more of that later and maybe they've not figured out from what angle. i think if it wasn't happening at all they'd just say it, they respect the fans of the source material too much to just not be upfront about it i think

agree!!! I do think from how the show develops and everything, we won't just drop all the characters and won't only focus on lestat's life story. they've changed so much timeline wise so I think later on they will be able to revisit certain events from different character's povs, them also being more mysterious about 2nd part of the season and possible future seasons is and makes me think that they're cooking something behind the scenes (it's giving them not revealing armand's casting in s1 and not bringing assad to all the events)(alsothe fact that s2 was revealed mid s1 or smth while there was less hype around the show AND bigots were hatebombing the reviews to lower the shos rating whereas rn visibly a lot more people are watching it makes me go 🤔👀)

also there're 3 more episodes in this season, so anything can happen, something will happen for sure in the dubai timeline at least

[jakekiszkasmommy]

Bullseye Part 1🥃

Warnings: Slow burn, nothing spicy... yet 👀 Minors still be warned because the end of this...well...you get it.

Author's note: I hope you like this MULTI-PART fic! Let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist! I'm still fairly new to all of this so please bear with me!

............

You had just started drinking for the night. Trying to forget the week that you had. Your friend, Sam, dragged you to the bar with him insisting that you have shots and be merry. Who were you to say no? The night was still young and you were having a great time until the person you hated the most walked through the door.

You could see his bouncy head of curls towering over everyone as he made his way to the bartop. Tapping the counter to get Bri's attention behind the bar. You rolled your eyes and slammed the rest of your margarita. Did Sam invite him?

They were best friends, even playing in a band together. You and Sam met at one of their gigs, instantly hitting it off. But there was a special place in hell reserved for Daniel Wagner. You couldn't place the exact reason you hated him, you just did. Always had. Always will.

Sam dissapeared 20 minutes ago, going to the jukebox to find "a classic." When he finally returned, he noticed Daniel and shouted and waved him over. Daniel giving a nod, noting he would be over shortly.

You spun around on your barstool, hoping the other side of the bar would be more entertaining than being in the company of Danny. Stirring the ice around with the tiny black straw, you decided you needed another drink. Hopping down, you felt the tequila hit at once, stumbling past Danny and rolling your eyes to yourself as he gave you a soft smile of acknowledgment.

You don't think Danny hated you, but you hated him. Tonight of all nights especially. After a long week, you wanted to have fun with just Sam. But of course, Sam had to extend the welcome. You figured you would either let go and have fun. Or be stuck miserable being in the company of, essentially, your arch nemesis.

Leaning your chest over the bar, you say, "Bri can I get another?" Giggling as it came out louder than expected. You two had been friends for a short time, becoming a regular at the local bar. She was caught up on drink orders and leaned across the bar while handing you your drink.

"Behave tonight...please. I don't want to have to kick you out...again." She said with a wink.

"Well if men around here would keep their grimey hands off of me, I would have to go around causing problems," mindlessly sipping away as you waved her off. It wasn't even two weeks ago that Bri kicked you out of the bar after you relentlessly punched a low life in the face for getting too handsy.

Turning back around, you see two options. Darts..or conversing with Sam and Daniel. Darts it is. You collected your darts from the bar and walked right past the two of them, deep in conversation.

You started recklessly throwing darts at the board. Missing and apologizing to the people next to you. Over and over again and before you knew it, you had drained the contents of your glass yet again. Feeling the effects of the alcohol, you started to get warm and loosen up. Picking up your darts, you turn around to see Sam standing with his arm extended and a smile plastered on his face. A shot of your favorite tequila in hand for you and him. Daniel standing just behind him with a beer.

"Y/N,"Sam drags out your name with a goofy smile, "Care for company?" Sam asked.

"Oh, Sammy, you know just how to bribe me don't you?" You laugh taking the shot from his hand before downing it and slamming the glass on the countertop. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, "You want in on this, Wagner?" Motioning with your thumb to the dart board behind you.

His head shoots up, making eye contact with you. Surprised you even acknowledged him. He sets his beer down, "Yeah. Sure, unless- Sam wants to play?" He stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking down at his shoes.

Sam is already nearly running back to the jukebox to pick another song before you have a chance to say anything else. Now you felt stupid. You trapped yourself in a sloppy game of darts with the person that made your fight or flight kick in at any given moment.

"You start without me, I'm going to get one more drink," you said. "Want another?"

"No I'm ok! Someone has to get the both of you home somehow." He turns away, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck. You're sure you see a blush creeping up.

Returning with another margarita, this time strawberry with sugar on the rim, Danny is retreiving the darts. You are blissfully sipping it as you approch your playing area. "Your turn," Danny says as he places the darts in your hand. Man his hands are soft.

What are you doing? What are you thinking? You hate him. But why? The alcohol has your mind reeling. Feeling like you have an angel and devil on each shoulder.

Taking one more sip from the glass and licking some of the sugar off the rim, you set your glass down. He pulls the glass towards him and covers the top of it with his hand, nodding towards the group of men that have gathered next to you. You silently thank him with your eyes before they travel back down to his hand. His big, rough, hands.

Shaking your head out of the fuzzy thoughts. Snap out of it Y/N.

You take your place and roll your shoulders back before taking a deep breath and throwing. The sharp object hitting the dart board and bouncing to the floor. You let your breath go and slump your shoulders in defeat.

"Look with your right eye and point your elbow towards the board." You spin around. Confused. Danny giggles as he approaches you, "May I?" He gestures. You give him a slight nod. He positions himself a foot behind you, turning your shoulders slightly. "Now, bring your arm up, and point your elbow towards your target." Just as you go to throw, his voice hits your ears, this time much closer. "Wait." He places both hands on your hips and rotates them ever so slightly. "There, perfect. Now just look with your right eye, and throw."

The breath is taken our of your lungs. The tequila must be having a stronger effect on you than normal. You can feel hot searing imprints on your hips where his hands were just mere seconds ago. You throw, and land a perfect bullseye.

You squeal with excitement and jump up and down. Turning, you wrap him in a hug, "Thank you thank you thank you." He is shocked and doesn't reciprocate the embrace. You soon get your bearings and just as quickly as the hug started, you all but shove him away. Creating as much distance as you can quickly. Clearing your throat, "Sorry, that's just my first bullseye ever and I got really excited."

His deep eyes making eye contact with you over the rim of your glass while smirking. "S'okay." He says before taking a big gulp. "You know what? We can always just get an uber. I think I will take you up on that drink offer."

Just as he finishes his beer, Sam has made his way back to you both. Drinks in hand for all 3 of you. "The night is young and the music is good! Let's party!"

Part 2

............

[halfghostwriter]

(Saw a few posts about Giant!Danny, as well as this post by @blackfoxsposts , thought it’d be fun to create a disaster)

Danny, for the most part, thought he was handling being kidnapped by assassins (ninjas? Ninja assassins?) pretty well. Not sure why they took him, but hey, it’s not like it’s much worse than being kidnapped by Vlad. Maybe Vlad or one of his rogues decided to outsource for a change. The only thing he was really worried about was upsetting his new friend Damian, since they had agreed to meet today, but Danny missed the meeting time one account of being. Y’know. Kidnapped.

In his thoughts, he didn’t notice the fact he was being dragged towards a mysteriously ectoplasm-like pool until he was already eyebrow deep in it. In his panic, he wound up swallowing a massive amount of the liquid. As he was pulled back out, he started to feel… weird… a kinda nice weird, though… he licked his lips, savoring the delicious flavor of the pools… and flung himself backwards, out of the hands of the people pulling him out, and straight back into the flavor pit.

He got about three massive gulps in before he was pulled out again.

There were people talking around him, or maybe they were yelling— it was hard to hear over the sound of his own bubbly laughter. When he caught his breath, he did hear something that sounded like “why would you do that,” to which he responded

“Cuz it’s tashtyyy! And makesh me feel… makesh me feel weird… like good weird… kinda hot though… oh, wait, I can fiksh that!”

And Danny did just that, by turning into Phantom. Sure, his ghost half’s a little bit bigger, but this place is so open and airy, they must have people of this size all the time.

“Ta- *hic* -daaaaaaa!”

Oh wow, he never noticed how cute and small people look when he’s like this! Though, he probably wouldn’t have had the chance to notice. Lately he had only been transforming in the ghost zone, since he could use his powers just fine in his huma— oh. Right. Haha whoops, forgot about that. Ah well, he already transformed, and he liked how humans looked like this, he’s having too much fun to stop now. Wait, why are they running away?

“Hm? Wheresh you goin?”

He reached towards the one who had been taking the most earlier, only to have him slice Danny’s finger with something pointy, while screeching “STAY BACK, PIT DEMON!”

“Owwww…. why’d’ya do that for…? Thatsh was sho rude…” He poked the man in the chest with his claw, accidentally pushing him to the ground. Before he could retract his hand, he felt something small and sharp hit his cheek.

“Stand down. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

Danny turned to his right, and saw… some sort of black blob… man, his vision was loopy…

“Well yeah, but he’sh, he’sh the one, who who shtabbed me, I wash jusht ashkin… a queshtion.” Danny leaned towards the black blob, squinting his eyes while trying to get a better look… he could sort of make out two pointy ears on top of it… maybe some sort of cape…? Just a bit closer….

“OW!”

Something stabbed his hand!

“Keep those fangs away from my father, demon!”

How rude! Sure, his teeth were big and razor sharp, and his skin was a blueish-green, and his claws were the length of an average person’s forearm, but that didn’t mean he was a demon!

“Thash sho meannnn—”

“Quiet! Where has Daniel been taken? What did you do with him?!”

“Huh..? Whad’ya mean, ‘m right…”

Wait a minute… that voice is… incredibly familiar….

“… oh! I geddit now!”

Danny reached for his blurry looking friend with his non-stabbed hand, gripping a little tighter than he meant to.

“Shorry f’r not comin, got ki’napped, we c’n hang now though! Not tied up an’more.”

He used his free hand to open up a portal to his room in the castle, and floated through, his friend safely in his hand. He thinks his friend said something to him, but…

“Shorry, wha wazzat? Ish kinda hard to… to…”

Danny’s jaw unhinged as he yawned, and his body began to feel heavy.

“Shorry, I’m… kinda shleepy…”

He managed to get his upper half fully onto the bed before passing out.

A few hours later, he woke up with a migraine, a strong sense of debilitating shape, and a shockingly composed Robin standing a few feet from his face.

Well.

Shit.

“So. Daniel. Care to explain?”

… yeah Danny fucked up.

[abbatoirablaze]

Racing Stripes, Season 2, Chapter 4

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: angst, some harsh words.

“Charles Leclerc!”

Charles looked over the women, his eyes trying to hone in on someone who clearly wasn’t there.  He knew who he was looking for while he mulled over the decision of which woman he was going to bring back to his room for the week. 

But he also knew that the girl that he wanted wouldn’t be in the line up.  

No, she was raising Daniels’ twin girls, in Australia.

Sheila was done being a motorsports girl.

“Mr. Leclerc?” one of the stewards asked, breaking the young driver from his thoughts, “it is your turn to pick.”

“Mon Petit.” He said with finality as he found a woman who looked like she had enough kindness inside of her to let him forget the world with her.  She gave him a soft smile as she joined his side, “Parler vous francais, mon petit?” (do you speak French, mon petit)

“Oui!” she replied softly with a nod, before keeping her eyes trained away from him, “amis je dois vous prevenir, Charles.  J’ai un petit ami.”  (But I must warn you, Charles.  I do have a boyfriend.)

His brow cocked, “N’ai-je pas le droit de te choisir.” (Am I not allowed to choose you?)

“Vous pouvez!” (you may). 

“Allons y.”

She nodded, linking her arm around the drivers, as she followed him out of the choosing ceremony.  The two of them walked in silence, and while mon petit had been used to that sort of treatment, Charles suddenly found himself feeling insecure, but he didn’t speak to her again until they got into the car, “I’m sorry about making you speak French in there.  But some of the others are pretty nosy.  And the only other one that knows French that was left was Stroll.”

“Oh…I’m sorry.” She frowned, “is there-is there something that you wished to say?”

“Don’t apologize,” he offered politely, tapping her hand, “Can I-Can I be honest with you?”

“I would prefer that you are!”

“I don’t want to have sex with you!” he said quickly.  Her brows raised and he instantly back-tracked when he saw just how surprised she’d looked, “I mean-not that I don’t want to have sex with you.  Y-you are a very gorgeous woman.  Very beautiful.  It’s just that-I-I’ve been going through somewhat of an emotional breakup…I wasn’t in a physical relationship with someone but-“

“Charles,” she said gently, cutting him off as she put her hands over his and looked him dead in the eyes.  Suddenly, he felt free, not caring about how his words sounded, because he knew that he wouldn’t be judged, “you do not have to explain yourself to me.  My job means that if a driver chooses me, I do what is asked.  Whether it’s simply talking, or yes, being more intimate with them.  It’s my job.  But do not feel as though you owe me an explanation or anything.  I just let drivers know that I am in a relationship as a precursor, because when it comes down to it, he and I have open communication.”

“I just want someone to talk to me,” he all but whispered shakily, “I-I don’t understand how this is supposed to work. I mean, I thought that I did, and I thought that she was falling in love with me.  I mean, I was falling in love with her…and she…you have to know that we had a good relationship.  But then she got with Daniel, or rather, they’d been on and off together the whole time.  I-I don’t know…but she-Sheila-”

“I know of Sheila, Charles,” she sighed softly, keeping his hands in her own, “you do not have to explain your situation, Charles…she’s a friend…despite me being in F3 at the time, I’m aware of your relationship with her.”

“How do you make it work?” he asked suddenly, “H-how do you separate out the feelings when you have a boyfriend?  How is he okay with you sleeping with other men most of the year?  Or-rather, how is it that you two make it work.  I mean, Sheila and Daniel make it seem effortless…and Lando is seeing Sugar.  And Sebastian and his wife-”

“Charles…stop,” she begged, cutting the driver off.  He stopped speaking and looked at her desperately for answers.  She frowned and shook her head, “I-it’s not that simple.  I mean, every relationship takes work.  And with my boyfriend, he’s in Formula 3.  Up until this season, I didn’t know that I was being pulled up to F1…granted, last season I was in F2, but that’s because I was dating one of the guys then.”

“You didn’t?”

“Team principals vote on the girls when there is openings,” she informed him, “if your division is running short, they have the option to pull up girls from the other divisions, or trade girls around so it’s not the same offering to the drivers, all of that stuff.  They all voted that I was to be pulled up from F3, despite being in a relationship with one of the drivers, because they thought more F1 drivers would want to choose me.  I thought that I was going to be in F3 with my boyfriend, and everyone pretty much has the understanding there to not choose me.  They’re pretty respectful of relationships in that division.  Like how Lewis chose Vetel’s wife for him.  Do you all not do that?”

“Not exactly.”

She frowned, “I’m sorry.  Sheila never quite went into the details of how drivers choose when she told me about things in this division.”

“But how do you and your boyfriend work through it?”

“We promised to always be open when we communicate with one another,” she said honestly, “we talk about what we want, and what we’re feeling.  And if it ever gets to a point where he doesn’t agree with it, or I feel like it’s wrong, then I’ll end my contract.  We want our relationship to work, but for that to happen, it takes effort.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” she confirmed, “sometimes…when you believe you love someone, you have to be willing to take that jump into the unknown, Charles…you have to trust your partner.  Because if you don’t, what do you really have?”

“Are you sure that you have to go?”

She gave him a soft, sad smile and played with his hair, before pressing a soft kiss to his temple, “you need to rest, Charles.  We’ve been up all night talking about things.”

“I-I’m not even tired,” he said simply, a yawn sneaking past his lips.  She gave him a sneaky smile and tossed a candy wrapper at his chest, “really, I am not tired!”

“You are a horrible liar, Charles!” she giggled, “you need to get some rest before your flights.”

“What about you?” he asked, “I mean I’m not worried about me, mon petit. I’ve got a few hours before I leave for the airport and our next city.  I-“

“You might, but my tickets are still for the F3 division which means earlier flights, which means that my time is cut short with you.  At least for now,” she frowned, “I have to be at the airport soon, which means I have to leave now.”

“I’ll speak to my manager and make sure that they fix that.”

“You don’t have to,” she said sweetly, “I feel bad that I’m cutting into your time, but you’ll get some time without me.  And I can get some time in with my boyfriend.  Remember?  He’s in F3.”

“But they haven’t even really started yet,” he frowned, “Right now those kids are just taking up garage space.”

“Worry not, Charles…by the time you get to Italy, I will be checked in.  And you can see me again…you know, unless I’m on the beach, working on my tan.”

He chuckled, “I didn’t recall seeing any tan lines when we showered.”

“Only you would search for tan lines while saying we were having a non-sexual, platonic shower together to conserve water, Leclerc,” she teased, pressing another kiss to his cheek.  He smiled and wrapped his arms around her causing her to giggle and fall back onto the bed with him, “Charles.  I have to go.”

“Promise that I’ll see you in Italy.”

“You have two weeks between these races,” she laughed, “you’ll see plenty of me, Charles.”

“Fine,” he sighed, letting her go, just as his door opened.  She stared softly at him, still in his arms for a moment, before a voice cleared close to the door.  Charles looked up and smiled at his older brother, “Lorenzo…you are interrupting something here.”

She all but shot up as tension filled the room.

The eldest Leclerc brother was glaring at her, and for the life of him, Charles couldn’t figure out why.  He knew that Lorenzo didn’t particularly care for the motorsports girls, but he was exceptionally hostile with her.

“I should go.” She said, not daring to spare Charles another look, “I-I’ll see you when you get to Italy, Charles.”

“Yeah,” Lorenzo growled, “Don’t want to miss your flight.”

Charles’ brows furrowed as he watched his elder brother continue to glare at the motorsports girl until she collected her bags and left the room.

“What the hell was that?” he asked his older brother as he hopped off of the bed, “she is my motorsports girl and-“

“And, you chose her?” he scoffed, gesturing to the door, “Zayanna of all people?”

“Zayanna?”

“Mon petit,” he growled angrily, “You fucking chose her?”

“Do you know her or something?”

“Yeah, I was seeing her last year until I found out that she fucks drivers for money,” he spat, “she’s a fucking motorsports girl.”

“Yeah, I know.  I chose her,” he answered, “Wait…that was the girl that you were seeing last year?”

“Yeah!” he huffed.

“Bad blood, then?”

“She lied to me, Charles,” he grumbled, “she made me think she wasn’t what she is.”

“And what is she, Lorenzo?”

“A paid whore!” he spat.

“Hey,” Charles frowned, feeling awfully defensive of the woman that he barely knew, “I don’t know what sort of things happened between the two of you when you were with her, but she’s not just a paid whore, Lorenz.  She’s my guest, and when she’s with me, I don’t want you acting like that around her.”

“Great…so you’re fucking her now then?”

“Just so you know, we didn’t have sex,” Charles replied quickly, “we just talked.”

“Yeah…she’s good at using her mouth!” Lorenzo hissed.

“Hey…I’m serious,” Charles growled, grabbing his brother by the shoulder, “we were just talking.  She was talking to me about how she makes her relationship work inside of the FIA.”

Lorenzo’s brow lifted, “you know about A-“

“But if I was having sex with her, it would be none of your business.” He ended, cutting his older brother off.

Chapter 5

[violasgamingpalace]

Wow Danielle saying something nice about Morgan?

Text: Agreed (and I still can't believe you agreed to that extra neuromod knowing how creepy those psychos are), but worse their lack of personality is contagious - even Morgan's got glassy eyes now, hasn't smiled or made a joke in what, a month?

A year?

-D

[enhleui]

༶•┈⛧┈♛ MODEL-CRAFT ♛┈⛧┈•༶

synopsis . a fashion student searches for a model for an upcoming project and unexpectedly finds herself drawn into a sparking friendship. as they bond amidst the digital landscapes of minecraft, that connection deepens.

DSMP STANS

(satire we don’t stan dsmp 😭)

kalia zhao . freshman in fashion design, gassy(lawl), nichaya's childhood friend, the E(xtrovert) to nichaya's I(ntrovert), korea university merch designer (7xxxluna on xiaohongshu) nicknames : kaka, lia

nakamura nichaya . sophomore photography major, leader of the art club, a model for kalia's fashion line (sometimes), lives alone and hustling as a server to provide for herself (paopaw01 on xiaohongshu) nicknames : ichy, nini, baka

quanrui (ricky) shen . junior in fashion design, a model for kalia's fashion line, professional gaslighter jokingly (we think), flirts bc he's js like that nicknames : rick, rui

kim gyubin . junior in fashion design, a model for kalia's fashion line, always complaining even though he secretly cares a lot nicknames : gyubin, gyub, trashbin

haku (soul) shota . sophomore computer science major, twitch famous istg he got an smp nicknames : sho, soul, tata

dongkyu (daniel) kim . freshmen in philosophy, secretly interested in kalia, he touches grass but he plays games when kalia asks him to nicknames : dani, dan, kyu

previous | masterlist | next

taglist : @sparklovespink @rikislady @simjyunnie @starjunjun bold means i cannot tag you! 🤫 (taglist is open)

[rainee-da]

🍀rainee's fandom list — this is the list of fandom i'm a part of & list of characters i'm willing to work with! (bolded means favorite!)

anime/manga series — character is listed in alphabetical order!

Mashle: Magic and Muscle ❥ Abbyss Razor / Abel Walker / Agito Tyrone / Carpaccio Luo-Yang / Cell War / Charles Contini / Delisaster / Domina Blowelive / Doom / Dott Barret / Epidem / Famin / Finn Ames / Galuf Gargaron / Kaldo Gehenna / Kenny Clark / Lance Crown / Lemon Irvine / Lévis Rosequartz / Love Cute / Lovie Rosequartz / Malcolm Curtis / Margarette Macaron / Mash Burnedead / Max Land / Milo Genius / Orter Madl / Rayne Ames / Renatus Revol / Shuen Getsuku / Sophina Biblia / Tsurara Halestone / Wirth Madl One-Punch Man ❥ Amai Mask / Atomic Samurai / Blue Fire / Captain Mizuki / Darkness Blade / Drive Knight / Eyelashes / Feather / Flashy Flash / Fubuki / Garou / Gearsper / Genos / Glasses / Golden Ball / Iaian / King / Lightning Max / Metal Bat / Mumen Rider / Mountain Ape / Needle Star / Okamaitachi / One Shotter / Poison / Saitama / Sekingar / Sneck / Speed-O'-Sound Sonic / Spring Mustachio / Tanktop Master / Tatsumaki / Twin Tail / Zombieman Dr. STONE ❥ Chelsea Childe / Chrome / Francois / Gen Asagiri / Ginro / Homura Momiji / Hyoga / Joel Gar / Kinro / Kohaku / Luna Wright / Minami Hokutozai / Moz / Nikki Hanada / Ryusui Nanami / Sai Nanami / Senku Ishigami / Stanley Snyder / Taiju Oki / Tsukasa Shishio / Ukyo Saionji / Xeno H. Wingfield / Yo Uei / Yuzuhira Ogawa My Hero Academia ❥ Aizawa Shouta / Himiko Toga / Hizashi Yamada / Jin Bubaigawara / Keigo Takami / Mirai Saaki / Mirio Togata / Nejire Hado / Neito Monoma / Rumi Usagiyama / Sako Atsuhiro / Shigaraki Tomura / Shinya Kamihara / Shuichi Iguchi / Tamaki Amajiki / Toshinori Yagi / Touya Todoroki / Tsunagu Hakamada Mob Psycho 100 ❥ Arataka Reigen / Hiroshi Shibata / Ichi Mezato / Katsuya Serizawa / Keiji Mogami / Matsuo / Megumu Koyama / Nozomu Hatori / Ritsu Kageyama / Ryo Shimazaki / Shigeo Kageyama / Sho Suzuki / Tenga Onigawara / Terada / Teruki Hanazawa / Toichiro Suzuki / Tome Kurata / Toshiki Minegishi / Tsubomi Takane / Yusuke Sakurai Osomatsu-san ❥ Choromatsu Matsuno / Ichimatsu Matsuno / Jyushimatsu Matsuno / Karamatsu Matsuno / Nyaa Hashimoto / Osomatsu Matsuno / Todomatsu Matsuno / Totoko Yowai Kakegurui ❥ Ibara Obami / Kaeda Manyuda / Kirari Momobami / Mary Saotome / Midari Ikishima / Miri Yobami / Miyo Inbami / Ririka Momobami / Rin Obami / Ryota Suzui / Sayaka Igarashi / Sumika Warakubami / Terano Totobami / Yumeko Jabami / Yumemi Yumemite / Yuriko Nishinotouin

manhwa series — character is listed in alphabetical order!

Eleceed ❥ Amyeong / Arthur Bryan / Cain Luterain / Chul Young / Dr. Delein / Duke Grane / Elay Pigarun / Gangseok Choi / Giwook Jang / Glant Gesimov / Guestella / Ian Patrick / Inhyuk Goo / Iseul Ju / Jiwoo Seo / Jisuk Yoo / Jiyoung Yoo / Jurion Patrick / Kartein / Kayden Break / Lia Eresby / Miyoung Ko / Muse / Pluton / Roist / Schneider / Seongha Park / Subin Lee / Sucheon Kang / Suman Kang / Vator / Wooin UnOrdinary ❥ Arlo / Blyke / Darren / Isen / John / Kuyo / Leilah / Remi / Rei / Seraphina

video games series — character is listed in alphabetical order!

Stardew Valley (+ Expanded) ❥ Abigail / Alex / Claire / Elliot / Emily / Haley / Harvey / Lance / Leah / Magnus / Maru / Penny / Sam / Sebastian / Shane / Sophia / Victor Baldur's Gate 3 ❥ Astarion / Gale / Halsin / Karlach / Lae'zel / Minthara / Shadowheart / Wyll Kingdom Hearts ❥ Axel / Demyx / Larxene / Lexaeus / Luxord / Marluxia / Naminé / Roxas / Saix / Vexen / Xaldin / Xemnas / Xigbar / Xion / Zexion Hogwarts Legacy ❥ Aesop Sharp / Amit Thakkar / Garreth Weasley / Leander Prewett / Mirabel Garlick / Natsai Onai / Ominis Gaunt / Parry Pippin / Poppy Sweeting / Sebastian Sallow / Victor Rookwood Detroit: Become Human ❥ Connor (RK800) / Daniel / Elijah Kamski / Gavin Reed / Kara / Luther / Markus / Nines (RK900) / North / Ralph / Sixty (RK-800-60) / Simon Watch Dogs Series ❥ Aiden Pearce / Dušan Nemec / Horatio Carlin / Josh Sauchak / Marcus Holloway / Raymond Kenney / Reginald Blenchman (Wrench) / Sitara Dhawan Danganronpa Series ❥ Akane Owari / Byakuya Togami / Celestia Ludenberg / Chiaki Nanami / Chihiro Fujisaki / Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu / Ghundam Tanaka / Gonta Gokuhara / Hajime Hinata / Hiyoko Saionji / Himiko Yumeno / Ibuki Mioda / Kaede Akamatsu / Kaito Momota / Kazuichi Souda / Kirumi Tojo / Kokichi Ouma / Korekiyo Shinguji / Makoto Naegi / Maki Harukawa / Mikan Tsukimi / Miu Iruma / Mondo Owada / Nagito Komaeda / Nekomaru Nidai / Peko Pekoyama / Rantaro Amami / Ryoma Hoshi/ Sakura Ogami / Sayaka Maizono / Shuichi Saihara / Sonia Nevermind / Teruteru Hanamura / Touko Fukawa / Tsumugi Shirogane / Yasuhiro Hagakure Persona Series ❥ Aegis / Akihiro Sanada / Ann Takamaki / Futaba Sakura / Goro Akechi / Hidetoshi Odagiri / Junpei Iori / Ken Amada / Makoto Niijima / Ren Amamiya / Ryoji Mochizuki / Ryuji Sakamoto / Shinjiro Agaraki / Theodore / Yusuke Kitagawa

☘ [BACK TO NAVIGATION]

[dear-indies]

Hello! I'm looking for FCs that can fit a character that is tough, gruff and seems like they would only respond in one word sentences. I'm open to any gender and ethnicity, just need some help finding FCs that fit the quiet but tough vibe. thank you in advance!

Eric Bogosian (1953) Armenian.

Emilio Rivera (1961) Mexican.

Michelle Yeoh (1962) Chinese Malaysian.

Benjamin Bratt (1963) Peruvian [Quechua] / White.

Ming Na Wen (1963) Macanese / Malaysian Chinese.

Peter Dinklage (1969) - has achondroplasia.

Park Hee Soon (1970) Korean.

Clemens Schick (1972)

Andrew Lincoln (1973)

Daniel Wu (1974) Hongkonger.

Omar Metwally (1974) Egyptian / Dutch - has spoken up for Palestine!

Ito Hideaki (1975) Japanese.

Pedro Pascal (1975) White Chilean.

Chaske Spencer (1975) Yankton Dakota Sioux, Sisseton-Wahpeton Dakota Sioux, Lakota Sioux Nakoda Sioux, Nez Perce, Cherokee, Muscogee, White.

Nonso Anozie (1978) Igbo Nigerian.

Natasha Lyonne (1979) Ashkenazi Jewish.

JD Pardo (1980) Argentinian / Salvadoran.

Krysten Ritter (1981)

Alberto Guerra (1981) Cuban.

Dichen Lachman (1982) Nepalese Tibetan / German, English, some Scottish.

Riz Ahmed (1982) Pakistani - has spoken up for Palestine!

Brian Tyree Henry (1982) African-American.

Son Suk Ku (1983) Korean.

Cara Gee (1983) Ojibwe

Clayton Cardenas (1984) Mexican, some Filipino.

Asia Kate Dillon (1984) Ashkenazi Jewish / Unspecified - non-binary and pansexual (they/them) - has spoken up for Palestine!

Richard Cabral (1984) Mexican.

Jessica Matten (1985) Red River Metis of Cree and Saulteaux descent, Chinese, White.

Martin Sensmeier (1985) Tlingit, Koyukon, Eyak, White.

Rahul Kohli (1985) Punjabi Indian - has spoken up for Palestine!

Oliver Jackson-Cohen (1986) Egyptian Jewish and Tunisian Jewish / English.

Sonoya Mizuno (1986) Japanese / English, Argentinian.

Monica Raymund (1986) Afro-Domincan / English, Ashkenazi Jewish -is bisexual.

Deepika Padukone (1986) Konkani Indian.

Kyle Gallner (1986)

Kali Reis (1986) Wampanoag, Nipmuc, Cherokee, Cape Verdean - is two-spirit (she/her) and queer.

Michaela Coel (1987) Ghanaian - is aromantic - doesn't have social media but in 2022 she boycotted an Isr*el-sponsored film festival!

Lewis Tan (1987) Chinese Singaporean / Irish, possibly English.

Rob Raco (1989)

Daniel Kaluuya (1989) Ugandan.

David Castañeda (1989) Mexican.

Úrsula Corberó (1989)

JuJu Chan (1989) Hongkonger.

Hannah John-Kamen (1989) Nigerian / Norwegian.

Assad Zaman (1990) Pakistani.

Kiowa Gordon (1990) Hualapai and White - has spoken up for Palestine!

Sarah Kameela Impey (1991) Indo-Guyanese / British.

Kasamatsu Sho (1992) Japanese.

Hari Nef (1992) Ashkenazi Jewish - is a trans woman - has spoken up for Palestine!

Kawennáhere Devery Jacobs (1993) Mohawk - is queer.

Freddy Carter (1993) - has spoken up for Palestine!

Alex Høgh Andersen (1994)

Gabriel Basso (1994)

Ayo Edebiri (1995) Afro Barbadian / Nigerian - is queer.

Ambika Mod (1995) Indian.

Emilio Sakraya (1996) Moroccan / Serbian.

Tati Gabrielle (1996) African-American, 1/4 Korean.

Archie Renaux (1997) Punjabi Indian and British.

Lizeth Selene (1999) Mexican [Unspecified Indigenous, Black, White] - is genderfluid and queer (she/they).

Zoe Terakes (2000) Greek Australian - is trans masc non-binary guy (they/he) - has spoken up for Palestine!

D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai (2001) Ojibwe, Cree, Chinese Guyanese, Afro Guyanese, White.

Here you go! If you /tagged/NAME search on my blog you'll find gif packs with the vibes and please let me know if you need more preferably with a specific age rage!

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Here's a compilation I made of six different comedians (two per podcast) on three different podcasts saying something about different types of comedy, specially how it's different in Britain and American. Tumblr won't let me embed it even though I compressed it down to be under the max file size, so I'm using a Google Drive. It's just audio, but I made it a video instead of an audio file so I could add text to show what people and podcasts are playing at a given time.

I put those together and then I wrote down a bunch of thoughts about it, which I think start out somewhat coherent but get less so as I go along. It's a whole bunch of stuff I've been thinking about all shoehorned into one post just because they're all on a vaguely similar topic, like a hastily thrown-together Edinburgh show. The point is that I'm going to listen to Mike Birbiglia's albums. That's... that's the upshot. That's how all this started.

I found the chat with Hari Kondabolu especially fascinating, having heard a few of Hari’s comedy specials and albums, and heard him on The Bugle a lot over a bunch of years (also I saw his Problem with Apu documentary, everyone should watch that, and should know that he says all the time on The Bugle he doesn’t get royalties for it anymore so doesn’t mind how people find it, just watch it).

He’s an interesting presence on The Bugle, an outsider as an American, who was there from the very beginning of their reboot in 2016, so you can kind of watch him figure out what this is in real time. At first he audibly has no fucking idea what he’s signed up for, and as it goes along, you can hear him settle into an area of “Well I still don’t really understand why you’re doing this, but I see what it is now and have found a way to do my thing beside your thing and that’s fine.” That’s partly a reaction to Andy Zaltzman, because no one really knows what to do with Andy Zaltzman unless they’ve had a long time to get used to it (except for John Oliver, I’m pretty sure they just met at a student comedy gig in about 1999 and instantly said “Oh look, my comedy soulmate”). But some of it is also a reaction to the British stuff. The references to British politics and history that you get on a topical and political comedy show, and the way they approach all their material. I like hearing Hari Kondabolu on there, an outsider perspective who can pick it apart a bit.

So I found his Comedian’s Comedian podcast interview interesting – honestly the whole thing is worth a listen, even if you don’t really know Hari Kondabolu’s work, as a good analysis of political comedy and the mechanics of good comedy bits and British vs. American comedy and the comedy industry more generally. But for this post, my interest is the British vs. American stuff.

I cut out a big chunk of their Brit vs. American discussion on that episode, and put it in the video above. I debated how long to make the clip, to create what was meant to be a compilation of people discussing British vs. American comedy, and ended up leaving in some stuff that’s a bit off topic where they fawn over Daniel Kitson. I realize comedians fawning over Daniel Kitson is hardly such a rare and exciting event that it needs to be preserved, but I particularly enjoyed hearing Stuart Goldsmith and Hari Kondabolu do it, so I left it in when cutting out the clip. I’ve heard Hari bring up on a couple of other occasions, as well, that he’s wildly impressed and amazed by the Hotmail address.

Anyway though, the Kitson stuff aside, the clip from the Comedian’s Comedian podcast is mostly Hari Kondabolu and Stuart Goldsmith discussing how the Edinburgh Fringe Festival shapes British comedians’ careers into something different from what they are in America. They have to write a new hour every year, because there will be reviewers there who saw last year’s hour and will catch them out if they try to recycle material. Also because it’s a smaller country, so they can only tour one show in so many places before everyone’s heard it and they have to do a new thing. Hari Kondabolu is impressed with the work ethic but mildly horrified by the whole thing, and can point out some aspects of the system that people who are used to it just wouldn’t notice because they seem normal.

I think there are two major factors that mark out the Edinburgh-influenced British model of comedy  careering building as being different from, say, American stuff: the new hour every year and the way each hour has to be themed and coherent and structured and preferably built around some story or message. In Hari Kondabolu’s podcast episode he mainly talked about the new hour every year thing, but also briefly touched on the concept of themes. Stuart Goldsmith mentioned that tides seemed to be changing, as it used to be that themes would make you different and interesting, but not anymore, so they’ll become less common soon. I’ve just spent three weeks listening to 38 shows performed at Edinburgh 2023, and I can say, I’m pretty sure that prediction was inaccurate. Themes and throughlines abound, and I’m happy about that. I like a good theme.

I do think there are pros and cons to it, though, and Hari Kondabolu points out some significant cons. If you look at the list of shows by any British comedy who's been doing Edinburgh for a long time, there are going to be some filler years. Some years when they did a show just because it's a new year and Edinburgh is up there so they'd better write a show, even if they don't have much to say. Hari is right to say that British comedians work fucking hard to turn over a new hour every year, but that doesn't mean the quality will always be top-notch.

Also, themes can be limiting. I'm sure there are some themed shows out there that would be better if they were just freestyle, if the comedian let themselves say all their best stuff, rather than cutting good material due to not being on theme. Or adding weaker material because it is on theme.

So that’s an American going on a British person’s podcast to tell them how fucked up the British comedy system is. I’ve made this compilation to compare it to a British person going on an American’s podcast, in which the American thinks the British system is great and in fact what he wants to do as well. Nish Kumar on Mike Birbiglia’s podcast, from just a couple of years ago. It’s an interesting contrast. A couple of people have told me before that Mike Birbiglia is like a British comedian but in the form of an American person. Including @my-excellent-bicycle, who told me ages ago that he's very good, and I said I'd watch him, and then I didn't, so sorry about that. Absolutely no offence to any of the people who'd already told me about him, but I have to admit, when the "Mike Birbiglia is so cool, he's like an American who does British comedy" endorsement comes from Nish Kumar, that does mean a little extra. Enough so I have now downloaded Mike Birbiglia's stuff, will listen to it next.

I can't really speak to the accuracy of what Nish Kumar said in that clip, since I haven't yet actually heard Mike Birbiglia’s shows. But I see what Nish means. He means shows that are built around one topic and/or narrative and/or theme and/or message, and stay on that, or at least around it and vaguely adjacent to it, for an hour.

Later in the 2021 podcast episode from which I took that Kumar/Birbiglia clip, Nish mentioned that actually, even though this is a generally British thing to do, he personally doesn’t tend to do it much, and he’d like to do it more. That was true, as of then. I’ve heard Nish’s 2014 (might have been originally his 2013 show, actually, whichever one got recorded for the Soho Live thing on Amazon Prime), 2016, and 2019 shows, and none of them were all that structured. They were coherent, particularly the latter two, which stayed on the topic of politics. Even that earlier one had some throughlines and underlying bits that kept coming back. But he didn’t do a really carefully constructed narrative show until 2022, the one that just had a video come out, Your Power Your Control.

So I found it interesting to hear Nish Kumar in 2021, just before he wrote Your Power Your Control, say he’d like to do more narrative-type stuff. And then the next year, he did it. Good for him. Nish Kumar just did a new episode of the Comedian’s Comedian podcast as well – it was recorded very recently, to go with the release of his latest special – and in that one, he mentioned that he was pleased with the way he managed to Birbiglia-fy this show in a way he hadn’t done with previous ones, making it a structured narrative the way Mike Birbiglia does. But actually, the way most British comedians do, and apparently this one American guy that it’s time for me to check out.

Then I added a clip of David O’Doherty from a very recent podcast, in which he talks about getting backlash from Americans for not being what they expect, which is just a bunch of unconnected jokes. I added that clip to the conversation because he brings up Hannah Gadsby and Nannette, and I think that’s an interesting point.

Hannah Gadsby got a huge amount of backlash for Nannette, and most of it was misogynistic. Not all of it, I guess. I guess it’s technically possible for someone to just really not like Hannah Gadsby’s style of humour, and they hated Nannette for perfectly legitimate reasons. Just like probably, some of those people on those cesspits of toxicity that were those Josie Long-related comedy message board threads in 2007, just legitimately did not share her sense of humour. Maybe one or two of them. But mainly, it’s the misogyny.

However, DO’D makes an interesting point about Hannah Gadsby’s show. Most “Edinburgh hour”-style shows do not get as massively world famous as Nannette did. So they got hit with misogynistic backlash, but it was fueled by the fact that it was being seen by a lot of Americans who are not used to that type of comedy, and just don’t understand. They thought Hannah was taking the respectable genre of doing 50 punchlines in 20 minutes, and making a mockery of it. Just because it was the first time they’d seen a comedy show with some sad bits. They thought Hannah Gadsby was doing comedy wrong.

So many people – mostly American people – who saw Nannette didn’t realize that ending a show with 10-15 minutes of sad bits is so commonplace in certain comedy circles that it’s also common to make fun of it. You hear comedians all the time, make jokes about the standard hour that’s funny for a while and then has a sad bit. There’s even a term for it: dead dad show. A dead dad show isn’t just a show about a dead dad. It’s any show that’s funny for a while but also poignant and touching and sentimental and has sad bits at the end and wants to make you cry as well as laugh. People joke about it because it’s been done a lot, it’s been done in some hack ways and some bad ways, it’s also been done in some brilliant ways, it runs the gauntlet like anything else.

It’s fine for people to say they’re not into that kind of thing. But Nannette got so big that people who’d never heard of that genre started seeing it, and they had no idea what they were seeing. So that’s how they ended up saying Hannah is not a comedian, this isn’t comedy, Hannah tricked a comedy-expecting audience into seeing a one-woman show! How dare you bring trauma into a comedy show? As though comedians talking about trauma aren’t a dime a dozen in Britain and Australia.

And I think that has pros and cons too. I like a show that works some serious stuff in, that has some deep personal or political message. But also, sometimes, people have a point when they say a comedy show has focused so much on the personal or political messages/trauma dumping that it forgot to also be funny (not with Nanette, though, people forget that Nanette had lots of good jokes in the first 45 minutes, it was a funny show, people just watch clips that have been cut from the last little bit and are then say this so-called comedy show isn't funny). And I guess it's up to each individual comedy audience member how much humour they'll allow a show to sacrifice for other stuff before they get sick of it. How much sad stuff or angry stuff or introspective stuff or educational stuff or heartwarming stuff or philosophical stuff or narrative stuff a show can have at the expense of funny stuff, before they'll say, "Okay, I need more comedy than this in my comedy shows." But I think it's a pretty shallow view of what comedy can be if you're not okay with a show that has any of that other stuff.

I am conflating Britain/Ireland and Australia/NZ quite a bit in this post, and that’s because I think when it comes to this sort of thing, they’re very similar. I’m also conflating Canada and the US, because I think they’re similar, in that neither of have this tradition that I’m pretty sure developed at Edinburgh and MICF. And I’m not talking about any other countries because as far as my comedy knowledge goes, those may as well be the only ones that exist (sorry Anuvab Pal and Aditi Mittal, I do know a couple from India too, but as far as I can tell, the special type of comedy they do in India is “say some stuff and hope you don’t get arrested for it”).

There is an obvious reason for that: Australia has a festival that’s similar to Edinburgh. British and Irish (and Irish, sorry for having forgotten to add “and Irish” in the earlier bits of this post, I just saw Dara O’Briain’s newest special – called So Where Were We, just released by the BBC, by the way, I recommend it – and it’s chock full of trauma, proving the Irish can do dead dad/never met my dad shows with the best of them) comedians develop their careers around Edinburgh, and Australian/NZ comedians develop their careers around the Melbourne Comedy Festival. North America doesn’t have anything like that.

Obviously North America has yearly festivals too, but not ones that are so big that every single comedian in the area wraps their whole career around it. I think the only one big enough to do that around here would be Just For Laughs, but Just For Laughs isn’t nearly the same thing, since people have to audition for it. You can’t just set up a show and show up. People can’t start writing a show in September with the assumption that they’ll take it to JFL next summer, because unless they’re already very famous, they can’t be sure they’ll be accepted into JFL’s lineup.

I found the David O’Doherty clip interesting, as he lists storytelling shows as just one of the many things that are, in fact, comedy, but get called “this isn’t comedy” by mostly Americans on the internet. But also, it’s not like all Americans just do 50 punchlines in 20 minutes and that’s it. They do lots of stuff! They have alternative comedy there, and at this point I’m getting out of my depth, because I have a sort of idea in my head of what American alternative comedy means – the vague idea involves things like Eugene Mirman and Fred Armisen and Kristen Schaal and improv shows in New York – but I don’t really know what I’m talking about. This post would be better if I knew what I was talking about more.

I guess the basic rule I’m working with is: British/Irish/Aussie/NZ do a new hour every year and it has themes and throughlines and narratives and coherent structure and they workshop it all year and then take it to Edinburgh and then scrap all that material and do a new one. And American comedians just write one joke(/bit/funny story, not just the classic type of one-liner “joke”) at a time, and at any given time are performing the combination of their best crop of jokes, and whenever they write a new joke it replaces the worst one in their set, so they evolve that way. I’m trying to understand why that difference exists, and part of the problem with my efforts to understand that is I don’t really know what I’m talking about, and the other part of the problem is that stating the difference that way is a massive oversimplification. It’s difficult to understand why a phenomenon exists if that phenomenon doesn’t really exist in nearly as simple a way as I’ve stated it here.

I know there are exceptions to that rule I just stated, even though I’ve not listened to any Mike Birbiglia yet. For a really famous example, I watched John Mulaney’s new show Baby J earlier this year (fuck him for the Dave Chapelle thing, the divorce and addiction are his own business and people who don’t know him shouldn’t have tried to get involved in his personal life, but fuck him for the Dave Chapelle thing, I didn’t watch his new show in any way that could translate to view count/profit for him – but I did love all his previous shows and was curious about what’s in the new one so I watched it), and that was pretty much all around one story. Even Hari Kondabolu’s new-ish special has a little bit of a theme, about being political while having a kid. And there are plenty of others, so it’s not like this stuff doesn’t happen in America. And there are plenty of British comedians who just do one joke at a time.

I don’t know – I’m not completely making this dichotomy up, right? That’s why I made that compilation in the video at the top of this post. Other people talking about that thing I’m talking about and proving that it is somewhat based in reality. It would help if I knew more about American comedy. You can’t really compare British and American comedy unless you know quite a bit about both, and I don’t know nearly enough about American to really understand this.

That’s why I asked my brother about it the other night, because he’s been doing comedy in Canada for a long time and most of the comedy he watches/likes is American. I asked him if he knows what I mean when I talk about this dichotomy, and why it may or may not exist. And he didn’t really know what I’m talking about, which means 1) the difference is so significant that someone who mainly follows North American comedy doesn’t even know about the dead dad Edinburgh show so can’t compare anything to it, and/or 2) I didn’t explain it very well. Because we had a whole conversation where at some point I realized we were talking past each other. He was using the word “alt” a lot, and it meant one thing to him and a different thing to me, so neither of us really knew what the other was talking about.

That in itself is interesting to me, because it shows that comedy is too big to really make these generalizations. You can’t talk about “alt comedy” as a coherent thing, because it means wildly different things in wildly different places. You can’t talk about “British comedy” or “American comedy” because Britain and America both have a lot of people in them who all do wildly different things.

At some point in my conversation with my brother, I said that when I say storytelling comedy I mean “like the thing Mike Birbiglia does”, and he has seen some Mike Birbiglia but says he doesn’t think what he does is particularly different from what most American comedians do, and I couldn’t refute that because I haven’t actually heard Mike Birbiglia yet. All I could say on that was… well one time I heard Nish Kumar say Birbiglia is like a British comedian, so that’s probably true, right?

So I really don’t know what I’m talking about well enough to understand this, or even explain it. Then again, my brother told me that he thinks British comedians write regular jokes in a way that American comedians don’t, and I said no, I think of the opposite as being true, and when I asked him for examples of why he thinks British comedians are like that, he said Jimmy Carr and Ricky Gervais. So he may not know enough about British comedy to know what he’s talking about. Is it possible that no one knows what they’re talking about? That’s kind of interesting to me too, I assume anyone who actually does comedy must know everything about it. I mean, I try really hard to know about comedy, but I don’t know nearly enough about it to properly do it. So the people who do do it know way more than I do and understand everything. But my brother’s been doing it 13 years, had traveled to perform in the States and nearby cities somewhat often, never made enough money from it to quit his day job but has made quite a lot of money from it over the years, and he may also not know what he’s talking about.

At some point we got talking about recorded comedy, and he said when he listens to audio-only comedy, and then watches a video of those people, he’s often surprised because he was picturing someone young and hot but it turns out to be a balding man in his fifties. I said that often, I can hear hours and hours of audio-only comedy by someone, and have an image of them in my head, and then see a picture of them, and I’m always surprised by how different the picture looks. Because I’m always picturing a person in their forties or fifties, maybe a bit overweight, slightly balding if it’s a cis man, and then I’m often surprised to learn they’re actually around my age or younger (many exceptions there too, Kitson is currently mid-40s and balding but I tend to picture him the way he looked in 2003, though I’m sort of updating my mental image of him now). Which I’m pretty sure says something about the difference between the comedy I watch and the comedy my brother watches, that we have such different images in our head of the “default comedian”, what we picture when we don’t know how someone really looks.

This may or may not be related to the fact that my brother recently started putting clips of his own comedy on Tik-Tok, and has things to say about how the engagement is going that make me despair at the soullessness of humanity. So what does he know? At some point I worked out that when he talks about writing jokes in a classic way, he doesn’t just mean one-liners, he means anyone who actually writes their material instead of just doing crowd work and “comedian destroys heckler” videos for social media. Apparently doing anything besides that is old school now, and he thinks British comedians do more old school stuff than American comedians, and again, I despair at the soullessness of humanity. But to be fair to America, I’m sure there are plenty of soulless British comedians on Tik-Tok too.

That’s part of it though, isn’t it? That my brother thinks of Tik-Tok-type comedy as American and British comedy as stuff that doesn’t do that. You can’t cut out a clip of a good dead dad show and put those 90 seconds on social media. I mean, you could, and I guess some people do, but that’ll ruin it. The British Edinburgh hours need their context, the good ones aren’t nearly as good without it. But maybe American comedy can be clipped more easily, since it’s not written to all flow together. But also, British comedians cut bits of their show out all the time to shoehorn into their twenty seconds of screentime on a panel show. Stewart Lee had a whole thing about that like 15 years ago, how no comedian can be that funny if their set can be cut up for a panel show. But, you know, we can’t all be Stewart Lee (though it’s my understanding that many people have tried). I’m pretty sure this is the sort of thing Stewart Lee knows about, and has strong opinions about. That was my mistake, asking the wrong comedian. I asked my brother, I should have been asking Stewart Lee.

So I still don't have an answer to who invented the dead dad show. I mean, I think I might know that one, Russell Kane may have invented the shows about dead dads specifically. But I don't know how the storytelling comedy with sad bits and themes started, or why it took off in Britain/Australia and not in North America, or if it's even true to say that happened. I feel like Kitson invented it, because it feels a bit like Kitson invented everything, but I know he didn't. I feel like Stewart Lee knows who invented it - I don't feel like he invented it, because he's constantly talking about the alt-comedy godfathers (gendered term there, but they were mostly fathers and not mothers at that time, that is an issue) from the 70s and 80s on whose shoulders he stands. And I don't really know anything about those people, so that doesn't help.

There's a guy named Oliver Double and I think he knows. I just got paid again, my bank account is looking a bit more stable than it did a little while ago, I think I'm going to buy his books. I'm also going to listen to Mike Birbiglia, I'll let you all know if he knows anything. Maybe most people don't know anything. Maybe everything has a smaller cause than I assume and we'd all be living in a radically different comedy world if Russell Kane's dad were still alive. Maybe it's fine to think the British comedy style is to write classic jokes because Jimmy Carr tours arenas and therefore gets to be their representative. Maybe the storytelling/pure joke telling comedy dichotomy doesn't even matter anymore, it's all about the dichotomy between improvised stuff on Tik-Tok and anyone who actually writes material now. Maybe improv just means crowd work now? But I hope not.

...This was going to be a post about how Hari Kondabolu thinks British comedians should scrap the concept of "recycling material" being bad, and just tell their best jokes even if they don't all fit a theme. Then I had a conversation with my brother the confused me and now I don't know. Does anyone else know anything that they want to share?

[cmesinic]

You took the money and basically screwed the country.

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖  

Chapter 51 - Comforts. Episode 1. ‼️I've cut a bit in this to make it more appropriate‼️ ------ Congo's point of view------

Congo: It was getting late in the afternoon, so I had suggested Lenny we would cook up a stew as we had plenty leftovers from last nights dinner, so chopping up the rest, plus adding few fresh ingredients would make up a good thick sauce with meat, vegetables and potatoes. Lenny was stirring while I was chopping and adding to the big pot. A good way to keep his mind from Andy while we were sipping a glass of Whiskey

Lenny: So where is Evan today?

Congo: I smiled softly He fled the house I guess I chuckled softly He went to see the twins and Lily.

Lenny: He frowned lightly Maybe it's better I sleep at my own house tonight, so I'm not here when he gets back. Maybe that would be the best thing anyway so I wouldn't share bed with Andy.

Congo: Perhaps when it comes to Andy. But for Evan's sake, I don't think you should be hiding. He might still be a bit grumpy, but between us, he liked it more than he would like to admit. So really, you have nothing to be worried about. Relax. Things might be a bit awkward, and he might be a bit grumpy, but beside that, he has nothing against you, or what you and Andy did. Evan in general just have a bit of a problem coping with sometimes sharing Andy. The only one he's not bothered about is me. He's even still slightly jealous at Daniel at times. So please, do not take it for more than it is. He's just torn between his own feelings. On one hand it turns him on, on the other hand it makes him jealous. That's Evan's own problem, not yours. I smiled warmly and returned to chopping

Lenny: So what do you suggest I do?

Congo: Act normal. Just be yourself. He will get over it faster that way.

Lenny: He smiled with a worried frown, and was just about to say something when someone honked their horn pretty violently out on the road

Congo: What the? I looked at Lenny a bit questioning, then quickly put the knife down and ran to the front door, and as I stepped out on the stairs a black car was parked in front of our house

River: He waved at me from inside the car, and made sign for me to come down, so I quickly ran down the stairs, and as I reached the last plateau, he started speaking I apologize for the concert out here, but I thought it was best to bring Evan home.

Congo: Is he alright? I looked at him concerned and tried peeking in on the backseat through the dark toned windows, but with no luck

River: Yes. He just had one too many drinks. Or maybe half a liter alcohol too much, frankly I don't know. I left for a while, and when I came back… he reached backwards and made a movement as if he was pushing something Evan! he sighed softly Evan!

Evan: Mumbled something from the backseat

River: Yes, we're home. He looked at me again with no further expression on his face Anyway, I shouldn't have left him with my irresponsible brother. Please take care of him before he vomits all over my car.

Evan: Suddenly the back door opened, and he came stumbling out, wrapping his arms tight around my neck, showering me with drunken wet kisses that mostly resembled vet puppy kisses Mmmmm I sssslove you sho shooo much! I missshed youuuuu! He kept showering my face and neck with kisses, moaning softly

Congo: I chuckled deeply and wrapped an arm around his waist to support him Thank you for taking him home, River. Can I get you anything before you turn the car? We're cooking dinner at the moment, you're welcome to join, if you like… home made stew?

Evan: Mmmmm you're shoooo wonderful…. I can't gjet enough of you, you're tjuuuusttt sho amazzzzing! He placed his palms on my cheeks, and looked at me with drunken eyes I mean it Congo… you're jusssst sho am-mazing hiccup sorry he chuckled lightly I love youuuuuuu

Congo: I chuckled warmly Yes… you mentioned that.

River: He sighed softly and turned ignited the car As much as I like watching Romeo declare his eternal love, I think it's better for me to return to my humble home. It's getting dark fast around here, and I absolutely hate driving during the dark up here. The roads tend to get very slippery, and I would like to avoid that. So I best turn the wheels and head on home now.

Congo: Absolutely understandable. Some other time perhaps? I wish you a safe

Evan: Somehow he managed to wiggle himself lose before I got to react, and just as fast he pulled his pants down and bend over the back end of the car, butt naked, wiggling his ass Please… fffffuck me! He moaned softly and chuckled

River: Closed his eyes and shook his head

Congo: Sorry about that, let me just… I quickly grabbed one of Evan's arms, sorta holding him up so he stood more secure, while I pulled his pants back up

Evan: Whimpered dissatisfied

Congo: I chuckled softly I expect this kind of behavior from Andy, not from you… stand still…

Evan: Chuckled lightly and ran his fingers through my hair You're so pretty… like a beautjifoool eagle…

Congo: Okay…

Evan: You can jussssst spread your wingsh and flyyyy… hiccup followed by a light almost girly chuckle we can flyyyy up in the air and have pretty eagle babiessss…. little cute eaglessss with magical wings and sunssshine can come out of their eyesss when they hiccup singsss

Congo: Alright… let's get you to bed.

River: He smiled politely and shook his head Good luck, I'm off before he decides to molest my car again. Have a great evening.

Congo: I nodded and watched him turn the car, then supported Evan all the way through the garage and inside the tv room

Daniel: …And the best thing is, Robert is so fucking dirty you can't even imagine… he had me stick my dick inside him and give him a golden showe- he froze as he saw Evan and I… both him and Andy were sitting on the bed, and in a split second they both turned absolutely pale in their faces

Andy: He looked at me with worried, apologizing eyes

Daniel: Evan… uh, it's not what you think… or technically it is… but uh… just if… maybe… uh…

Evan: looked mostly like he was gonna explode

Daniel: I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen… we had both had something to drink and I didn't plan for you to find out this way… we already agreed he is going to get his own place now and maybe if

Evan: Burst out laughing the loudest laughter I have ever heard emerge from him

Andy: Uh… Evan, are you okay?

Congo: This has to be damn dumb luck… he's mildly drunk as you can obviously see I nodded at Evan that now was crawling on all 4 laughing like a hoarse sea lion He probably doesn't even understand half of what anyone is saying at this point… so lucky you Daniel…

Evan: Pointed at Daniel with a loud squealing laughter You're fffffffffffffucking my dad!

Congo: Well, that settles it… he does know what everyone is saying. I grabbed him under both arms Alright… up you go! Let's get you to bed now, shall we?

Andy: Quickly got up and so did Daniel Uhm… sorry He smiled at me apologizing

Congo: I shook my head softly You can make it up to me by going upstairs and help your dad with dinner… Daniel, you can set the table. I'll be up soon. Just eat when the food is done, I'll stay here till he falls asleep and then join you.

Andy: He nodded softly, and then they both quickly disappeared

Congo: I lifted Evan up in bed, and quickly dragged his wet boots off Let's just get you comfortable, hm? I smiled at him warmly, as his laughing more or less had died out by now, and he started calming more and more down, looking more and more tired. He staid quiet as I helped him get his pants and shirt off, but as I dragged the blanket over him, he looked at me with soft eyes, and reached a dizzy hand up to somewhat caress my cheek, or the closest he could get with his drunken movements Thank you….. he smiled lovingly

Congo: No need to thank me, sweetheart.

Evan: I love you so muchhhh… you're…. ssssso special to me.

Congo: I chuckled warmly and laid down next to him, gently caressing his hair You're very special to me too, Evan. Tell me… why did you drink so much? It's not like you to get this drunk.

Evan: He chuckled softly I dunno… but… maybe…. I could have a little kisssssssh??

Congo: I smiled softly and planted a soft kiss on his lips Is it perhaps because of what happened with Andy and Leonard last night?

Evan: Mmmmmmmnope he chuckled softly

Congo: Okay…. is it then because of what I said to you down here?

Evan: Mmmmmm hiccup what did you shay?

Congo: I smiled softly You know, when I was…. I told you to

Evan: His eyes suddenly widened and he flapped his arms around in front of him, quickly pressing a hand against his mouth

Congo: I sat up quickly What is it? Are you gonna

Evan: He nodded quickly and jumped out of bed, falling 3 times before he quickly disappeared to the closest bathroom

Congo: I was right behind him, and kneeled down behind him just as he threw himself in front of the open toilet, and I just managed to grab on to all his hair before he vomited into the toilet. I rubbed his upper back gently It's okay… I'm right here with you… take your time…

Evan: He panted for air, and I was just about to think he didn't have more to get out, then another round hit the toilet

Andy: God! Is he okay?

Congo: I turned my head lightly and looked at Andy standing in the open doorway Yes, he just had a little too much to drink it seems. Nothing to worry about. This will help him sober up a bit.

Andy: He nodded softly, then chuckled lightly as Evan vomited a 3rd time You would think you were the pregnant one, and not me. He chuckled again and padded his stomach a bit

Congo: I chuckled silently Come here and give me a kiss.

Andy: He smiled warmly and walked towards me, planting a gentle kiss on my lips Congo?

Congo: Yeah sweetheart?

Andy: He bowed down again and whispered in my ear Would it be okay if I had some fun with dad again today?

Congo: Mmm.. but, I think maybe he wants to-

Andy: I know.. but just you know… if he were to change his mind?

Congo: Sure. You never have to ask again when it comes to him, alright? I know he will take good care of my angel.

Andy: He smiled bright and gave me a quick hug and another kiss Thanks! I'll head on up and eat, I'm freaking starving! Probably since I'm eating for 4! He chuckled hoarse I just came to say dinner is ready… but yeah he nodded at Evan by the toilet take your time… Evan…

Evan: Mh?

Andy: I love you…

Evan: Vomited

Andy: I'll take that as a compliment he chuckled hoarse and winked to me, then left the room

Evan: I'm sorry… he dried his mouth with the back of his hand and bumped down on his ass, slowly stretching his legs a bit

Congo: Don't ever apologize for getting sick, alright? Not even if you caused it yourself with too much alcohol. I smiled softly and planted a light kiss on his hair It's alright, and we will make it through.

Evan: He nodded softly and, reached up to pull out, then leaned his back against my chest, sighing deeply

Congo: Do you feel any better? My voice was soft and caring

Evan: He nodded softly but didn't say anything. We sat their quiet a couple of minutes, then he sighed softly and shook his head Our manager called, ssshe want's us to launch a new music video by the 1st of Decccember, for our second single launch, ssho our first CD can hit the storesss around Chrissstmasss. It will bring in major salesss. I had a long argument with her, but she told me we would either do this, or it would be contract breachss. She says she's all up for sssupporting me in getting back on my feet, but unfortunately she has bosses too, and they have been pussshing her the past 6 months. A CD was promised this year, and now we are running out of year. I also have to be on a TV show Ssssunday evening. Today is Friday. I just can't… but I'm not ready to throw my career away either. This is one of the biggest record companiesss, if I let them down, they will make sssure no one will ever hire me… any of us again. So I would also cost River, Blake and Daniel everything they have worked so hard for. We have to shoot the video Sunday and Monday. Edit Tuesssday so it can launch in a music tv show Tuesday evening. And on top of that interview Sssunday night. I have no idea how to make it.

Congo: I wrapped my arms around him tight and planted a few soft kisses on his hair We will figure it out, together. All 3 of us. We will make it through somehow. We have faced worse than this and we always made it through, so we will make it through this as well. I got you.

Evan: He dug his fingers into my arms and sighed deeply, and I was thankful he seemed a bit less drunk at least. Although there were still long way to go for him to sober up. At least now I understood why.

Congo: I planted a soft kiss on the back of his neck Hey… I think maybe we should get you to bed so you could get some sleep, huh? You'll need to gather some strength for the rest of the weekend.

Evan: He nodded softly Toothbrush…

Congo: I chuckled softly I can't argue with that. 5 minutes later Evan was cleaned up and snuggled up in bed, laying on his side with and arm on my waist, as I was caressing his hair softly

Evan: He smiled softly I love you so much, Congo.

Congo: I love you too dear I smiled softly and kissed the tip of his nose Try to get some rest now.

Evan: He staid quiet a few minutes, and as his eyes had been closed for a while, I thought he was gonna fall asleep very soon, but then suddenly he spoke in a sleepy voice Is Daniel and my dad fucking?

Congo: I nodded softly even though he wasn't looking at me Yes. It appears so.

Evan: He grunted softly

Congo: How do you feel about that? I planted a soft kiss on his forehead

Evan: …..

Congo: Evan?

Evan: …… unclear.

Congo: I planted yet another kiss on his lips You want me to talk with Daniel about it?

Evan: He sighed softly No. They're adults. As long as I don't have to hear about it. Or know about it. I prefer to just forget it all.

Congo: Understandable. I'll mention that to him, at least.

Evan: He nodded softly, and few minutes later when I still hadn't gotten an answer I noticed he was asleep.

Congo: Dinner went fine with Andy, Daniel and Lenny, until Daniel suddenly got a phone call that seemed to upset him a bit. He left in the middle of it, and I guess it was easy to see that I was worried about him, since Lenny and Andy started trying to figure ways to cheer me up, and keep my minds off it. It wasn't until Andy and Lenny decided to dedicate a song to Evan that my mood seemed to change for the better again. So the rest of the night we worked hard on dusting off Lenny's 7th grade violin skills, and whatever drum skills Daniel by now had been forcing on me. And just at the break of dawn, we finished up recording and editing, ready to post and dedicate the video, hoping somehow it would make him believe more in himself and his upcoming video and interview.