#Cliff Beasts

[drewharrisonwriter]

Life Well Loved

Status: One Shot, Complete

Summary: Dieter Bravo’s life proves that plans are overrated—and he’s never been more right about not having one.

Word Count: 12.9k words -- I KNOW! (In Monica Geller's voice)

A/N: Am I having a Dieter brain rot? Why yes, yes, I am. I know I should be writing the next chapter of Lifeline, but here we are. This story contains themes of pregnancy and navigating unexpected life changes, with emotionally intense scenes that touch on topics like potential pregnancy termination, personal doubts, and fears. Though it's mostly fluff, the narrative leans toward a hopeful and supportive direction but explores the complexities of relationships and personal growth. Because hey, it's Dieter!

Warnings: Allusion to abortion, brief mentions of substance use (past), discussions of anxiety and self-doubt, public scrutiny/social media negativity, mentions of past parental loss, minor family tensions, and emotional conversations around pregnancy. Please read with care if these subjects are sensitive for you.

P.S. My laptop, which served me well for 5 years, just gave out. With grad school, the recent loss of my stepdad, and ongoing medical bills, finances are tight. I’m currently managing writing commissions and my dissertation from my phone, which is okay but really challenging. If you can help with a donation or by commissioning some of my writing, it would mean the world to me. Just send me a message 💜 Thank you from the bottom of my heart for any support you can offer. 💜🙏🏻

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

Dieter Bravo never thought he’d end up married, let alone to his best friend. It wasn’t the kind of love story he had planned for himself, but then again, Dieter’s plans were usually an afterthought to his impulsive nature. He met her—his wife, the love of his life—years ago at a book signing. He’d been dragged there by a friend who swore her mystery novels were like something straight out of an Agatha Christie thriller, but with a modern, edgier twist.

“Come on, man. Just try something new,” his friend had nudged, practically shoving Dieter into the crowded bookstore. “She’s hot and her books are actually good. Not that you’d know.”

Dieter rolled his eyes but followed, pretending not to care. He didn’t read much beyond scripts, but when he saw her—standing there all wide-eyed and charming behind the signing table, chatting easily with fans—he was hooked. She had this warmth about her, a smile that reached her eyes, and a way of making everyone feel like they were the only person in the room.

When it was his turn in line, Dieter cleared his throat, a little unsure of what to say. “So, uh, is it true you based your killer on your ex?” he asked, flashing her his signature smirk.

She looked up, amused. “Only the charming parts. The murderous tendencies are purely fictional.”

Dieter chuckled, genuinely entertained. “Good to know. I’ll keep my charming side in check.”

She laughed, and Dieter swore he could listen to that sound all day. But the moment passed quickly, and they parted ways, the brief exchange lingering in Dieter’s mind longer than he’d like to admit.

They didn’t reconnect until months later when Dieter landed the role of a lifetime in the film adaptation of one of her books. He played the brooding lead, a role he was born to play, and she was on set every day, consulting on the story she knew better than anyone.

“Bravo!” she called out one afternoon, waving the script in the air as he finished a scene. “I think you missed a line, but you definitely nailed the smirk.”

“Missed the line? Nah, I made it better,” Dieter shot back, strutting over with that effortless confidence of his. “Besides, isn’t the lead supposed to be mysterious and broody? I’m just adding layers.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Layers of bullshit, maybe.”

Their banter was easy, and soon, late nights spent in hotel bars became their thing. They’d laugh over terrible room service and even worse dialogue changes, often rewriting entire scenes together between drinks.

“Do you think the audience is gonna buy this twist?” Dieter asked one night, his brow furrowed as he scribbled on a napkin. “It’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“It’s a mystery, Bravo. It’s supposed to be dramatic,” she said, playfully nudging his shoulder. “Besides, you’re the one bringing it to life. If anyone can sell it, it’s you.”

Over the years, their friendship grew deeper. Dieter adored her—not just for her talent, but for the way she saw right through him. She didn’t care about the Hollywood persona; she cared about the guy who struggled with his lines, laughed too loudly, and occasionally got lost in his own head. And it was clear to anyone who knew him that she was the only one who truly got him.

“Why do you even stick around?” Dieter asked one night, half-drunk and more vulnerable than he intended. They were sitting on the balcony of some hotel in Vancouver, the city lights flickering below them, empty glasses scattered between them.

She looked over at him, surprised at the question but not at the insecurity behind it. “You’re kidding, right? Who else is gonna put up with my obsessive rewriting of everything?”

Dieter smirked, but the self-deprecation was still there, hovering. “I’m serious, baby. You’ve seen me at my worst. Hell, you’ve probably seen me at my best, and let’s be real, there’s not a whole lot of difference.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was affection in the gesture. “Come on, Dee. You think I don’t know who you are? I’ve watched you screw up a million times and still pull it off somehow. You’re not as hopeless as you think.”

“Yeah, but it’s all smoke and mirrors,” he muttered, leaning back and staring at the city. “I’m just this mess pretending to be a movie star. And people buy it, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep up the act.”

She leaned closer, her smile gentle but knowing. “You’re not acting, Dee. This is you—chaotic, brilliant, all over the place. And somehow it works. That’s why people love you. It’s why I love you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sure, but it’s not exactly the stuff that makes for a stable life. I can’t even commit to a weekly gym routine, let alone… you know, anything permanent.”

“Well, it’s good you know that about yourself,” she said, her tone more serious now. “But just because you’re not ready for all that doesn’t mean you’re a failure. You’ve built this crazy, messy, amazing life, and you’ve done it on your terms.”

Dieter glanced at her, the sincerity in her eyes almost too much to bear. “But it’s still just a mess, right? Like, I don’t know how to be the guy who settles down, who has the white picket fence and the kids. It’s not in me.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make you any less,” she pointed out, nudging his knee with hers. “You’re the guy who shows up when it counts, who makes people laugh when they need it, who cares more than he lets on. And that’s enough, Dee. It really is.”

Dieter stared at her, his expression softening. “You make it sound like I’m not totally screwing everything up.”

“Because you’re not,” she said simply, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “You’re doing what works for you, and that’s more than most people can say. So don’t be so hard on yourself, okay?”

They sat in a comfortable silence, the kind that comes from knowing each other inside and out. Dieter wasn’t sure if he could ever really change, but with her by his side, he felt like maybe he didn’t need to.

The media loved to ask when Dieter Bravo, Hollywood’s lovable mess, was going to settle down. He always laughed it off, brushing it aside with jokes and his trademark self-deprecation. “Settle down?” he’d scoff to reporters, flashing that crooked grin. “Have kids? I can barely take care of myself. I mean, who’s gonna look after the baby when I’m off in Cabo or Amsterdam on a bender?”

He was always open about not wanting to be tied down, convinced that marriage and fatherhood were responsibilities he’d inevitably screw up just like everything else. Deep down, he didn’t think he was cut out for it. Not the commitment, not the kids—none of it. And yet, every time he thought about those nights spent talking with her, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he could be more than the sum of his fears.

The truth was, Dieter loved being around kids, especially when visiting his favorite charities—arts programs, hospitals, anywhere that needed his presence to brighten the day. He had a soft spot for the kids who showed up at his movie premieres with homemade signs and for the shy ones who peeked out from behind their parents at hospital visits, their eyes lighting up at the sight of a real-life movie star. He’d spend hours signing autographs, posing for pictures, and handing out gifts. But wanting that momentary joy and having it every day were two entirely different things, and he didn’t think he was built for the kind of life that meant forever.

Then there was Vegas. It was one of those wild weekends that only Dieter and his friends could pull off, the kind that started with a simple plan and spiraled into chaos before anyone could catch their breath. They were there to celebrate a friend’s birthday—a milestone that felt more like a warning than a celebration to Dieter, who had spent the better part of the year dodging questions about settling down and growing up.

The night was a blur of neon lights, overpriced drinks, and the kind of reckless energy that only Vegas could inspire. Dieter and his best friend were deep into their third round of shots at some tacky but charming casino bar, laughing so hard their sides hurt. The conversation was easy, like it always was, jumping from half-remembered movie quotes to bad relationship stories that only got funnier with every shot.

“Remember when you two were drunk off margaritas and swore you’d get married if you were still single at 35?” one of their friends blurted out, pointing at Dieter and her with a tipsy grin. “Well, look at that—clock’s ticking, you two.”

“Oh please, they’d kill each other in a week,” another friend chimed in, rolling their eyes dramatically. “But hey, at least the headlines would be great.”

Dieter leaned back, smirking. “You think she’d kill me? I’m charming as hell.”

She snorted, leaning in closer to Dieter. “Charming? Sure, Dee, if charming means spilling three drinks and forgetting your lines.”

“Oh, you love it, don’t lie,” Dieter shot back, nudging her shoulder playfully.

Their friends egged them on, throwing out half-baked marriage advice between sips of whatever was in their glasses. “Just make sure you don’t pull a Ross and say the wrong name at the altar,” one joked, and they all burst into laughter, doubling over as the drinks kept flowing.

“Hey, I can pronounce her name just fine,” Dieter retorted, raising his glass to her. “What do you say, baby? You and me, Vegas style.”

“Wel…we’re way past 35 now…” she said, still smiling but now with a hint of mischief, “technically, we missed our window… so might as well make good on that old pact, right?”

Dieter stared at her, the room spinning slightly as he tried to read between the lines. They were supposed to be just friends, right? But it didn’t feel like a joke anymore, not when she looked at him like that. And for once, he didn’t want to think it through. He didn’t want to second-guess it or talk himself out of it like he usually did.

“Fuck it,” Dieter said, grinning wider than he had in months. “Let’s do it. You and me, baby. Let’s get hitched.”

Their friends erupted in cheers, half-shocked, half-encouraging, but it didn’t matter. They were drunk on cheap tequila and the reckless abandon of the Vegas Strip, where anything seemed possible. Before Dieter knew it, they were stumbling into a tacky little chapel off the main drag, the kind with neon hearts and an Elvis impersonator in the back who’d seen one too many late-night weddings.

The ceremony was a blur. Dieter remembered laughing so hard that he nearly dropped the ring—some gaudy, oversized thing they’d bought from a souvenir shop on the way over—and the way she squeezed his hand so tightly he could feel her nerves mixing with his own. There were no big speeches or dramatic declarations of love, just a lot of giggling, whispered jokes, and the kind of easy joy that felt like it belonged to them and them alone.

“Do you, Dieter Bravo, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the Elvis officiant drawled, barely keeping it together.

Dieter glanced at her, still half-expecting her to back out at the last second. But she was looking at him, eyes full of that familiar mix of sarcasm and something deeper that he’d never quite put a name to. “I do,” he said, and for once, it didn’t feel like a lie.

“And do you, sweetheart, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Elvis asked, already cracking a grin.

She squeezed Dieter’s hand, barely containing her laughter. “Hell yeah, I do.”

Elvis squinted, pausing dramatically. “Are you sure? Divorces are expensive. Trust me, I’ve had three.”

Their friends howled from the pews, tossing out quips. “Yeah, blink twice if you need an escape plan!” one of them shouted, while another chimed in, “You’re stuck with him now, good luck!”

Dieter threw his arm around her, laughing so hard his sides hurt. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m the best terrible decision you’ll ever make.”

She leaned in, grinning. “Guess we’re both screwed then.”

They kissed, and it was messy and off-center, but it felt right. It was the kind of kiss that was more about the laughter and less about the perfection of the moment, which was exactly how Dieter liked it. When they pulled apart, he was breathless, and she was glowing in a way that made the whole crazy, impulsive thing feel like the best decision he’d ever made.

They walked out of that chapel with matching rings and a new reality that neither of them fully understood but were more than willing to figure out together. And in true Dieter fashion, they celebrated the only way they knew how—by grabbing greasy burgers at an all-night diner and gambling away the rest of the night like newlyweds who couldn’t care less about what tomorrow would bring.

For once in his life, Dieter didn’t feel like he was running from anything. He was running toward something—toward her—and it felt like the only thing that made sense.

–

The first few months of marriage were an unpredictable whirlwind, much like the wedding itself. There were no grand changes, no dramatic shifts—just more of the same easy companionship they’d always had, now with the added humor of “Mrs. Bravo” peppered into their banter. They spent mornings in Dieter’s cluttered kitchen, arguing over the best way to make coffee while stumbling over each other in pajamas that never quite matched. Evenings were spent curled up on the couch, watching bad movies and stealing kisses during the credits like lovesick teenagers.

Their friends couldn’t get enough of it, either. The tabloids had gone wild over the news—Dieter Bravo, Hollywood’s most notorious bachelor, suddenly married to his long-time friend in a drunken Vegas escapade. Headlines like “Bravo’s Big Gamble” and “Hollywood’s Wildest Newlyweds” splashed across every gossip rag in the country. But Dieter and his wife took it in stride, shrugging off the noise and focusing on what actually mattered: them.

His family had been just as surprised but in the best way. They had welcomed her with open arms from the very first time she and Dieter had visited together. His mom had pulled her into a tight hug at the door, immediately peppering her with questions about her books and telling her how she had a shelf dedicated to them in the living room. Dieter’s siblings loved her, too—his sister often roping her into baking sessions in the kitchen, laughing over old stories about Dieter’s childhood antics that usually ended with him covered in mud or glitter or some combination of both.

It wasn’t long before she became a staple in their family gatherings, fitting in as if she’d always been there. Sunday dinners at the Bravo house turned into her favorite ritual. She’d help Dieter’s mom in the kitchen, rolling out dough for pies while swapping recipes and stories. Dieter’s nieces and nephews adored her, crowding around to hear tales of mystery and adventure, eyes wide as she brought her characters to life with every word.

“Can you tell us the one about the detective who finds the secret tunnel again?” one of his nephews had asked during Thanksgiving, tugging at her sleeve.

She smiled, glancing at Dieter, who was sitting at the head of the table, grinning like an idiot. “Only if you promise to help me figure out what’s at the end of it,” she teased, ruffling his hair.

His father, a retired fertility expert who had always been the more reserved member of the family, quickly warmed up to her, too. They’d sit on the porch during long afternoons, sipping coffee and talking about life, books, and the occasional scientific trivia that she found endlessly fascinating. He appreciated her wit, her genuine interest in everyone around her, and the way she always seemed to make his son smile.

As the year rolled by, the Bravo family embraced her more and more, and she felt a sense of belonging she hadn’t expected. She was no longer just Dieter’s wife; she was a daughter-in-law, a sister, and an aunt. She was family.

So when Christmas rolled around again, she was eager to be back at the Bravo household, despite feeling under the weather. She’d been sick for nearly two weeks, and Dieter had been worried. She barely ate, surviving mostly on pesto chicken paninis and iced coffee—the only things she could keep down. Still, she was excited to see his family, to bask in the warmth of his mother’s home-cooked meals and his sister-in-law’s desserts. She was looking forward to being surrounded by people who loved her as much as she loved them.

The moment they stepped through the front door, Dieter’s mom engulfed her in a hug, commenting on how thin she looked, and his sister immediately dragged her into the kitchen, insisting on making her favorite cookies. Dieter watched from the doorway, leaning against the frame with a smile. She fit here—so naturally, so effortlessly—that it almost made him forget how odd it all still felt to be someone’s husband. But then she’d look at him across the room, with that same smile she’d had since the bar in Vegas, and it felt right.

But as they settled into the cozy familiarity of his childhood home, Dieter’s father began to notice something. It wasn’t just that she looked tired—there was something else. A subtle glow to her skin, the way her eyes would soften when she looked at Dieter, the quiet but unmistakable aversions to certain foods she normally loved. When she grimaced at the sight of his wife’s famous lasagna and instead picked at a simple salad, he raised an eyebrow. He had seen it before, four times with his own wife, and the theory formed in his mind almost instantly.

It was the little things: how she leaned into Dieter when she thought no one was looking, resting her head on his shoulder like she couldn’t quite keep herself upright; the way her laughter was softer, tinged with something almost nervous. She hadn’t touched a drop of wine the entire evening, claiming she wasn’t in the mood, which was unlike her—especially when Dieter’s mom brought out her favorite bottle from the cellar.

Dieter’s dad observed quietly, piecing together the signs with a mix of curiosity and growing certainty. He knew better than to jump to conclusions, but every instinct told him that there was more to her recent sickness than a simple bug.

–

Later that evening, after dinner, Dieter and his father found themselves outside on the patio. The chill in the air was biting, and Dieter’s breath formed little puffs of smoke as he lit a cigarette, the faint glow of the ember flickering in the dark. He offered one to his dad, who simply shook his head, declining as usual. They settled into an easy silence, the kind that came from years of shared moments like these, watching the yard stretch out before them, dotted with twinkling Christmas lights that cast a warm, festive glow over the familiar landscape.

Dieter took a long drag, savoring the brief buzz of nicotine, and leaned back in his chair. It was quiet, the kind of quiet that always made him think too much, but tonight he welcomed it. He glanced sideways at his dad, whose face was half-lit by the soft glow of the porch light, lost in thought as he nursed his coffee.

“You know, son,” his father said finally, breaking the silence, “I couldn’t help but notice something about her tonight.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Yeah? Like what?”

His father hesitated, his expression thoughtful as he swirled the coffee in his mug. “She’s been feeling under the weather, hasn’t she? Seems a bit off.”

Dieter nodded, taking another drag and blowing out the smoke in a slow stream. “Yeah, she’s been sick for a couple of weeks. Picky about food, which isn’t like her. She’s basically living on those pesto chicken paninis. She can’t keep much else down.”

His father chuckled softly, the sound low and knowing, like he was recalling something long ago. “Huh. That’s interesting. Reminds me of your mom back in the day.”

Dieter frowned, glancing over at him. “What do you mean?”

There was a pause, and his father’s eyes stayed fixed on the yard, lost in a memory that Dieter couldn’t quite place. Finally, he spoke, his tone careful, almost gentle. “Have you considered she might be pregnant?”

Dieter’s reaction was instant—he snorted, nearly choking on his cigarette smoke as he laughed it off, but the sound was more nervous than amused. “Pregnant? Nah, no way. She’s got an IUD. Besides, we’ve been careful.”

His father smiled, but it wasn’t condescending. It was the kind of smile that spoke of experience, of having lived through more than one surprise in his lifetime. “IUDs aren’t foolproof, son. Nothing is. And I’ve seen those signs before. Aversions, fatigue, the way she looked at food tonight… I saw it with your mother every time she was pregnant.”

Dieter’s laugh faded, replaced by an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the ends as his mind raced. “You’re serious?”

“Look, I’m not saying she is,” his father said, raising his hands in a small gesture of surrender. “But I’ve been around this long enough to know the signs when I see them. I’m just saying, it’s possible.”

Dieter stared out at the yard, the once comforting sight now blurred by the thoughts colliding in his mind. He tried to dismiss it, to chalk it up to his dad’s habit of overanalyzing things. But suddenly, every little moment from the past few weeks replayed in his head like a reel he couldn’t pause: the way she’d cried over soup earlier that evening, overwhelmed by finally finding something she could eat; the quiet, tired smiles; the sudden need to rest her head on his shoulder whenever she got the chance. Dieter had brushed it off as just a rough patch—nothing serious, nothing that couldn’t be fixed with rest and time.

But now, hearing his father say it out loud, it all started to click. The missed meals, the strange cravings, her emotional reactions to things that normally wouldn’t faze her. It was like putting together a puzzle he didn’t even know he was working on.

“What do I do if you’re right?” Dieter finally asked, his voice low, tinged with a mix of fear and something else he couldn’t quite name.

His father took another sip of his coffee, considering his son carefully. “You talk to her. Find out for sure. And whatever the outcome, you handle it together. That’s what this is, Dieter. Marriage, family—it's not about knowing every answer. It’s about facing it together, no matter how unexpected it is.”

Dieter nodded, though his mind was still reeling. He didn’t know if he was ready for what his father was suggesting, but one thing was clear: he needed to talk to her. His dad’s words hung heavy in the cold night air, and suddenly, the easygoing world Dieter had grown comfortable in felt a little less certain. 

–

That night, back in their room at Dieter’s parents’ house, the tension lingered like a thick fog. They were staying for the weekend, and though the familiarity of the guest room usually felt comforting, tonight it felt like the walls were closing in. Dieter sprawled out on the bed, flipping through channels on the TV without really watching. His mind was a mess of half-formed thoughts, circling back to the conversation with his father, and he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at him.

She was curled up next to him, absorbed in her Kindle, but every so often, Dieter noticed her shifting slightly, like she couldn’t quite get comfortable. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, trying to figure out how to bring up what was weighing on him without sounding like he’d lost his mind.

“So, funny story,” Dieter started, forcing a lightness into his tone that he didn’t feel. “My dad has this theory. He thinks you might be pregnant.”

She looked up from her Kindle, her brow furrowing as she processed his words. “What? Where’d that come from?”

“Yeah, I know,” Dieter laughed, though it sounded more nervous than amused. He fidgeted with the remote, clicking through channels too fast to see what was on. “He’s been watching you tonight, noticing stuff. You know, the food aversions and all that. He said something about it reminding him of when my mom was pregnant.”

She blinked, staring at him like she wasn’t sure if he was joking or serious. “That’s… random. I mean, it’s just paninis and iced coffee. And I’ve been stressed, that’s all. I mean, I have an IUD.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told him,” Dieter said, shrugging. “I told him it’s not possible, right? But he kept going on about how those things aren’t foolproof and—”

She cut him off, her laugh sharp and a little shaky. “No, yeah, of course. It’s just… I mean, we’ve been careful. I thought…”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk crossing his lips. “Careful? Are we really?” He gave her a knowing look, recalling their many reckless moments. “I mean, I lost count of the times we said, ‘eh, what’s the worst that could happen?’”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands, but she couldn’t hide the grin peeking through. “Oh God, don’t remind me. You said it’d be fine because ‘science, baby!’”

“Yeah, classic me,” Dieter laughed, feeling the tension break just a little. “Maybe our ‘science’ needs some workshopping.”

They chuckled, genuinely amused by their own recklessness. For a moment, it felt like any other night, just the two of them joking around like they always did. But then the laughter faded, and the unspoken possibility lingered, nudging at the back of their minds.

Dieter hesitated, then set the remote down, his voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “IUDs aren’t a hundred percent, you know.”

She didn’t say anything right away, her eyes locked on him as if searching for some reassurance he couldn’t quite give. Finally, she set her Kindle aside, pulling her knees up to her chest. “Do you think… do you think he’s right?”

The question hung in the air, too big to ignore, and neither of them moved. Dieter rubbed the back of his neck, his mind racing. “I don’t know, baby. But we could… find out.”

She nodded, her breath hitching slightly, and they didn’t wait to talk themselves out of it. The drive to the pharmacy was tense and quiet, but the nervous energy turned into something almost comical when they got inside. Dieter, trying to look inconspicuous in his cap and mask, accidentally grabbed a COVID test from the shelf and tossed it in the basket without looking.

She glanced at it, biting back a laugh. “Dee, unless you’re worried I’ve got a pandemic brewing, I think you grabbed the wrong kind of test.”

“What?” He squinted at the box, his eyes widening. “Oh, shit. I just saw ‘test’ and panicked. Could you imagine? ‘Congratulations, you’re… COVID positive!’”

They both snorted, trying to suppress their laughter as they swapped it out for a pile of pregnancy tests. “At least we’re wearing masks,” she quipped, trying to hide her nerves behind the humor.

Dieter nodded, their masks pulling at their grins as they paid quickly and slipped back out into the night. Back in their room, she took the tests into Dieter’s private bathroom, thankful she didn’t have to make the awkward walk down the hallway past his nephews, who were still glued to the PlayStation. Dieter paced the room, his anxiety growing with every passing second. He could hear the faint sounds of her moving in the bathroom—running water, the crinkle of plastic, the sound of her soft sighs—and each noise sent a jolt of unease through him.

He ran his hands through his hair, messing it up even more, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. What if his dad was right? What if they were really about to become parents? He didn’t know how to do this—any of it. He wasn’t cut out to be a dad. Hell, he could barely take care of himself most days. But then he thought about her, about the way she used to talk about wanting a family, back in the early days of their friendship, years before they got married. She’d share those dreams in the quiet moments when they were lying in bed, late at night, her voice soft and wistful as she painted a picture of a life she wanted someday—one with kids, a messy house full of love, and mornings that started with chaos and ended with bedtime stories.

He hadn’t heard her talk about it in a long time, not since they’d crossed the line from best friends to whatever it was they’d become now. They hadn’t really discussed it after they got married, like the possibility had just been a footnote in their drunken Vegas vows, not something real. But Dieter knew she probably still wanted it, that deep down, those dreams hadn’t gone away, just tucked themselves into a quieter part of her heart.

And now, for the first time, Dieter let himself admit what he’d been denying all along—he wanted it, too. He tried to fight it, tried to tell himself he was still the same guy who didn’t want to be tied down, but the truth was, he’d settled down the moment he said “I do.” And now… he’s sure he’s ready to dream of that life, too. The one where they weren’t just figuring things out as they went but actually working towards something together, as husband and wife, as mom and dad.

Finally, the bathroom door creaked open, and she stepped out, her face pale and her hands trembling slightly. She didn’t have to say anything; Dieter could see the truth in her eyes. Without a word, he followed her into the bathroom, and there they were, lined up on the counter: five pregnancy tests, each one showing two clear lines.

Positive. All of them.

Dieter stared at the tests, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find something, anything, to say. He could hear her breathing beside him, shallow and uneven, and he knew her heart was pounding just as hard as his. She swallowed, her eyes fixed on the tests as if they might change if she stared long enough.

She finally broke the silence, her voice small but steady. “It’s okay, Dieter. You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll… I’ll take care of it.”

–

Her words snapped Dieter back to reality, his brows furrowing as he tried to grasp what she meant. He watched her walk past him out of the bathroom, her movements brisk and determined, but there was a tremble in her step that made his stomach drop. She went straight to the dresser, grabbing her phone with a familiar sense of purpose. Dieter followed, his confusion mounting as she dialed a number with shaky hands.

“What are you doing?” Dieter asked, his voice edged with growing alarm. “Who are you calling in the middle of the night?”

She glanced at him but didn’t answer directly. “It’s fine, Dee. I’m going to take care of it.”

The line clicked, and a familiar voice filled the silence—one of her friends, an OB-GYN Dieter had met several times at dinner parties and gatherings. “Hey, I’m sorry to call so late,” she said into the phone, her voice tight but controlled. “I need another favor.”

Dieter’s heart sank as he heard the gasp on the other end. The doctor’s voice wavered, filled with concern. “Are you sure? I mean… are you really sure about this?”

Dieter watched her, still trying to catch up, but he could hear the tension in the doctor’s voice and the weight of what was being asked. She glanced at him, her eyes meeting his, and in that moment, Dieter felt like the ground was slipping out from under him. “I’m sure,” she said quietly. “I’ll wait for the prescription in the morning.”

She ended the call and set the phone down, her hand trembling. Dieter felt his shock morphing into a hot, simmering anger, his chest tightening as he tried to make sense of what he’d just heard. “What?” he asked, his voice rising, desperate to believe he’d misheard. “What prescription? Prenatal vitamins?” He was trying to hold onto some hope, clinging to the possibility that this wasn’t what it seemed, that she wasn’t about to make a decision without him. But deep down, he knew.

She sighed, biting her lower lip, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in her throat. Dieter could see her knees wobble, and before he could process it, she was leaning against the side table, her legs barely holding her up. He rushed to her, guiding her gently to the bed and kneeling before her, his anger wavering as he saw the look in her eyes.

Tears streamed down her face, silent and relentless, and Dieter realized it was the first time he’d seen her cry in years. Not since her father had passed, not even when she’d broken up with someone he knew she had loved deeply. She was always so strong, so composed, but now she was trembling, and all she could manage were soft, broken apologies. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she repeated it over and over. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Dieter’s anger melted away, replaced by a sharp pain that pierced his chest. He reached up, cupping her face gently, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. “Hey, hey, calm down, okay? Just… baby, please… can you tell me what that was all about?”

She nodded, her breath hitching as she tried to collect herself. The silence between them was tense, heavy with unspoken fears and the weight of what was happening. Finally, she spoke, her voice small and wavering. “I know you don’t want kids, Dieter. I’ve known that from the start, and I respect that. I love you so much, and I know I don’t say it often, but I do. I love the life we have together. And I didn’t… I didn’t want to ruin that.”

Dieter listened, the words sinking in, but every syllable felt like a sting. “You’re not ruining anything, baby,” he said, his voice softer now but still edged with confusion and hurt. “But you didn’t even… I mean, we didn’t even talk about it.”

She looked down, her tears falling faster now. “I was afraid to. You’ve always been so clear, and I didn’t want to make you feel trapped. I know kids were never part of the plan. I didn’t want to put that on you.”

Dieter took a deep breath, his mind still reeling, but he tried to keep his voice steady. “You’re not–Jesus…I understand why you feel this way baby…” he said gently, squeezing her hands. “And I’m sorry we never talked about it before, not even once. I know I said I didn’t want kids, and I thought that was it. But… then…” He sighed deeply… “W-we should at least talk about it before you go and get that prescription in the morning.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and glistening with tears, clearly caught between fear and guilt. “Dieter, I—”

“No, listen,” he interrupted softly, his tone calm but firm. “I want you to know that whatever you decide, I’ll support you. I’ll stand by you no matter what. But I need to know that if you go through with this, it’s because you want to, not because you think it’s what I want. I respect you, and I love you. And yeah, maybe I’ve always been afraid of having kids, but I also know you’ve wanted this. I’ve known for years, and I’m sorry we’ve never talked about it since getting married. But maybe… maybe now’s the time we should.”

She shook her head, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. “I don’t want to pop our bubble, Dieter. I’ve spent so long thinking that if I brought this up, it would be too much for you. You’ve said it before—kids are overwhelming, right? And I get it. Hell, the thought of it overwhelms me, too. But it’s different for you. I didn’t want to lose you. I love you so much, Dee. I love what we have. And I was scared that… that if I bring it up, it would drive you away.”

Dieter’s heart ached as he watched her, the weight of her words sinking in. “Baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “But you can’t just… handle this alone. Not for me.”

She took a shaky breath, the truth finally spilling out in the soft, halting words she’d kept buried. “That’s why I got the IUD. A few months after we got married… after I found out I was pregnant. You were away in London for that shoot, and I was alone. And I—” She paused, choking back a sob as she struggled to get the words out. “I panicked. I was terrified of what it would mean for us, for you, for everything. So, I… I took care of it. I didn’t want to burden you with it, and I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Dieter’s face went pale, his expression shifting from shock to something more profound—hurt, confusion, and an aching sadness that he didn’t quite know how to process. His hold on her hands went slack. He hadn’t been there. He hadn’t known. While he was away, filming scenes and living the life he thought he wanted, she had been here, facing a reality that should have been theirs to share.

“You—” Dieter started, standing up, trying to say something but the words caught in his throat. “You did that… without telling me?”

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I didn’t know how to tell you, Dee. You were gone, and I was scared. I didn’t want you to feel trapped or forced into something you never wanted. I thought it was better that way.”

Dieter’s mind raced as he tried to grasp what she was saying. He ran a hand down his face, cupping his mouth as he took in a long drag of air. The anger he’d felt earlier had melted into something more painful, something that cut deeper than he expected. He’d never wanted this, but now, faced with the reality that they’d lost something before it had even begun, Dieter felt a profound sense of grief for what could have been—and for what he still had a chance to fight for.

He swallowed hard, his voice breaking as he spoke. “I wish you’d told me. I wish you hadn’t gone through all that alone. I know I’m not perfect, and I know I’ve said a lot of shit about not wanting kids, but… I want you. And if you want this—if you want us to have this—then I want it, too. But you have to be sure. This isn’t just about me. It’s us, and we can’t keep pretending it’s not.”

She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but all she saw was the man who had always been there, even when they hadn’t known what the hell they were doing. Dieter knelt before her, his hands steady on her knees, offering her the quiet reassurance she’d been afraid to ask for. They were scared, both of them, but for the first time, it felt like they were scared together.

A heavy silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. She stared down at her trembling hands, struggling to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. Finally, she broke the quiet, her voice small and cracking under the strain. “I understand if you want a divorce, Dieter.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks again, and she looked up at him, and he could feel and see the pain and resignation in them. “I’d give it to you, you know. If that’s what it takes for you to live your truth. If it means you get to live the life you always wanted—not something complicated by a kid and a wife.”

Dieter’s breath caught in his throat, and he shook his head, trying to grasp the gravity of what she was saying. “What? No… what are you talking about? Divorce? That’s not—”

“I don’t want to trap you, Dee,” she interrupted, her voice quivering. “I never wanted you to feel stuck. At least if we divorce, I get to keep my baby, and you get to live your life. We both get what we want.” She said it with a heartbreaking kind of finality, her gaze dropping as though she couldn’t bear to look at him.

Hearing her say “her baby” like that shattered something inside Dieter. He could feel his chest tighten as his emotions boiled over, hot tears streaming down his face. “You think that’s what I want?” he whispered, his voice breaking as he tried to keep it down. They were still in his parents’ house, and he didn’t want anyone hearing this, but he couldn’t keep the hurt out of his words. “You think I want to live some half-assed life without you? Without… our baby?”

She flinched at his words, torn between the guilt and the love she still felt for him. “Dieter, you’ve always said—”

“I know what I’ve said!” Dieter snapped, his voice rising before he caught himself. He pressed a fist to his mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to break free. “God, I’ve been so fucked up. So caught up in what I thought I wanted, what I told everyone I didn’t want. I never… I never told you how much I love you. How much I need you. And now you’re willing to sacrifice everything because of me? Because I’m too much of a mess to communicate? That’s not fair, baby. That’s on me.”

She looked away, blinking back tears as she tried to keep her voice steady. “It’s not about blame, Dieter. I can’t live with the guilt of not giving you the chance to have the life you deserve. I’d rather… I’d rather set you free than see you stuck in something you don’t want. I love you too much for that.”

Dieter shook his head, his shoulders slumping as the enormity of her words hit him. He didn’t know how to make her understand. “But I don’t want to be free,” he said, almost pleading. “I don’t want any of this without you. I’ve spent my whole life running from everything—commitment, responsibility, you name it. But not you. Not us. You… you made me realize I could be more than that.”

She listened, her heart breaking with every word. “I don’t want to be unfair, Dee. I’ve spent so long dreaming about this—about being a mom. And I know kids were never part of your dream, and I just… I don’t want to take that from you.”

Dieter wiped his eyes, his voice hoarse and desperate. “You’re not taking anything from me. Please, don’t do this. Don’t make decisions for me. You’ve always been my partner, my equal… baby, you make me want to be a better person… whatever the hell that looks like…”

She let out a shaky laugh through her tears, reaching up to cup his face. “I just… I didn’t want to pop our bubble. It’s been so perfect, even with all the chaos. And the thought of losing that, of losing you in such a way… it scares me more than anything.”

Dieter’s sobs turned to quiet laughter, a broken sound that mirrored the bittersweetness of the moment. “You think I’m not scared? I’ve been scared of fucking everything my whole life, and you were the one person who made me think I didn’t have to be. You’re my team, baby. We’re a damn good one. And I know that if we have this kid… our kid… we’d be amazing parents, too.”

She looked at him, her tears finally slowing, replaced by a fragile smile that made Dieter’s heartache. “I just don’t want to be unfair,” she whispered, her voice soft but sincere.

“You’re not being unfair,” Dieter said, his tone tender but firm. “Please, just… reconsider. Our relationship, our marriage… our baby. Let’s figure it out together. No more guessing what the other person wants.”

She nodded, her eyes locking with his, and for the first time since the night had started, she felt a glimmer of hope. They were both terrified, still reeling from everything that had come to light, but at least now, they were facing it together, no more secrets, no more hiding. Just the two of them and the uncertain but hopeful future with a baby they were ready to build.

–

The next morning was Christmas, and despite the whirlwind of emotions that had unfolded the night before, Dieter and his wife had decided to keep their news to themselves for now. It was too early—too new, too precious, and far too complicated to try to explain just yet. They put on their best smiles, exchanged gifts with his family, and managed to get through the morning without giving anything away.

As soon as they left his parents’ house, they headed straight to her OB-GYN’s office. Dieter squeezed her hand in the waiting room, both of them tense but trying to stay calm. When the doctor finally confirmed the news—they were eight weeks along—it felt both real and surreal at the same time. They were both relieved and overwhelmed, knowing it was still too early to tell anyone, too early for announcements, but their hearts were already full of the possibility.

Back at their house, Dieter immediately started making little changes, moving things around and insisting on turning one of the guest rooms into a nursery. “This room gets the best light,” he said, gesturing animatedly as they stood in the empty space, still filled with random furniture and boxes they hadn’t sorted through. “We can do a crib over here, maybe a rocking chair by the window… Oh, and I saw this thing on Pinterest—don’t laugh—about these little wall decals, like stars and moons. We could do a whole sky theme.”

She watched him, leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “I didn’t even know you had a Pinterest account.”

Dieter turned, shrugging sheepishly. “What? I like my aesthetics.”

She laughed, her heart swelling at the sight of him so invested. It was like watching a kid with a new project, and she couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. “You’re really into this, huh?”

He looked at her, eyes sparkling with an excitement that was infectious. “Yeah, I am. What’s so funny?”

She shook her head, still smiling. “Nothing, it’s just… I never thought I’d see the day when Dieter Bravo is this excited about becoming a dad.”

Dieter’s expression softened, and he crossed the room, wrapping his arms around her. “Well, get used to it, baby. I’m all in.”

As the days passed, they began to settle into this new phase of their life together, their once spontaneous and free-spirited existence slowly evolving without them even realizing it. They had always been people of the moment, living day to day with little thought of what came next. Before, their conversations rarely drifted beyond the present—they were about last-minute weekend trips, late-night takeout, or whatever wild idea Dieter would come up with next. The future was never really on the table, not in a serious way. They thrived on spontaneity, on the freedom of not being tied down by plans or expectations.

But now, there was a subtle but undeniable shift in the air between them. It wasn’t something they talked about directly, but rather something that quietly settled in, like a warm, comforting blanket. Their conversations began to naturally drift into what was coming, not just what was happening now. They found themselves talking about baby names over breakfast, Dieter suggesting offbeat, quirky names that made her laugh while she countered with more classic choices that she’d always dreamed of, being the writer that she is and her love for literature.

Dieter would randomly pull out his phone to show her baby gear he’d found online, everything from the practical to the absurdly adorable. “Look at this stroller, baby. It’s got all-terrain wheels! Imagine us taking the kid hiking. Okay, maybe not hiking, but, you know… walking down a slightly uneven sidewalk.”

She’d laugh, watching him with a kind of fondness that was new, soft, and overwhelming. She’d catch him in the nursery sometimes, hunched over with a tape measure, making notes and sketches of where things should go. He was planning—actually planning—and it warmed her in a way she couldn’t quite describe.

One afternoon, she found him kneeling on the floor, surrounded by paint samples and wallpaper swatches, muttering to himself about whether to go with the pale blue or the pastel purple. “I don’t know, do you think clouds are too cliché? What if we did something more abstract? Like a sky, but, like, artsy. You know, like, dreamland stuff.”

She leaned against the doorframe, a smile playing at her lips. “Dieter Bravo, debating interior design for a nursery. Who would’ve thought?”

He looked up, his grin boyish and bright. “I know, right? Next, I’ll be on HGTV. ‘Bravo’s Baby Rooms.’ It’ll be a hit.”

She rolled her eyes, but her heart swelled with something deeper. They were still them, still the same pair who’d decided to get married on a whim in Vegas, who’d spent years living in the moment and rarely looking ahead. But now, the future wasn’t something scary or overwhelming. It was something they were building together, brick by brick, conversation by conversation.

Sometimes, in the quiet moments, she would find herself lying awake at night, her hand resting on the small swell of her belly, feeling the gentle flutters of life within her. Dieter would be next to her, snoring softly, and she’d just listen, soaking in the warmth of their home. She realized then how much had changed between them—how they’d gone from two people floating through life, clinging to the present, to a couple that was starting to dream together. 

It wasn’t just about the baby, though that was the catalyst. It was the way their whole world had shifted, gently guiding them toward a future that felt bright and full of possibility.

Their once spontaneous, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants relationship was evolving into something richer, something that made space for plans and hopes. She’d catch Dieter browsing parenting books or obsessively researching the best baby monitors, and each time, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of love she hadn’t quite known before.

It wasn’t forced or awkward; it was the most natural thing in the world, like breathing. They were still the same Dieter and his wife, the quirky mystery novel writer—impulsive, playful, unorthodox in every way—but now, their lives together carried an undercurrent of something… warmer, softer, and a little more planned than usual. 

One evening, she was curled up on the couch, cozy under a thick, soft blanket, her Kindle in one hand and the other resting gently on the small but noticeable bump of her belly. She’d grown accustomed to the comforting weight of her growing child. Dieter strolled in from the kitchen, carrying a bowl of popcorn, and dropped onto the couch beside her with a contented sigh.

“You look way too comfortable,” she teased, nudging him playfully with her foot, a smile tugging at her lips as she watched him sink into the cushions like he belonged there.

“I am,” Dieter said, settling in beside her and resting his head against her shoulder. He let out a contented sigh, his eyes drifting down to her bump, and his hand found hers, resting warmly over the swell of her belly. “I love this. I love everything about this.”

She chuckled, her fingers absentmindedly tracing soft circles on her belly, feeling the little flutters of movement beneath her skin. “You always loved kids, Dee. I know that. I just… I never thought I’d live to see the day when you’d actually be a dad.”

Dieter’s smile softened, and tears welled in his eyes as he scooted closer, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his face into her chest. She could feel the quiet, vulnerable sobs shaking his shoulders, and it melted her heart. “You’re making my deepest, darkest dreams come true, baby,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by her warmth, words spilling out with raw sincerity.

She laughed, tilting her head back as she ruffled his hair affectionately. “I thought your deepest, darkest dreams that I made come true involved a strap-on, Bravo.”

Dieter snorted, lifting his head just enough to flash her a cheeky grin. Without missing a beat, he buried his face into her chest, playfully motorboating her. She squealed, swatting at his head as they both dissolved into laughter, tangled together on the couch.

“God, you’re such a perv,” she giggled, half-heartedly pushing him away even though she was laughing too hard to mean it.

He finally pulled back, grinning unapologetically as he reached up and cupped one of her breasts, squeezing playfully. “Honk honk,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head but unable to keep a straight face. “Dieter, you’re ridiculous.”

“I know,” he said, still chuckling as he leaned in to kiss her softly. 

“I love you, mama.” He whispered against her mouth. 

–

As days turned into weeks, they found themselves back at the doctor’s office for the 20-week scan. The drive there was tense, filled with nervous silence and half-hearted attempts at small talk that did little to mask their growing anxiety. Dieter’s usually easygoing demeanor was replaced with restless energy, and she could feel it radiating off him as they sat in the waiting room, both of them on edge.

She sat nervously beside him, her leg bouncing up and down as she stared at the outdated magazines scattered on the table in front of them. Dieter glanced over, noticing the jittery movement. He nudged her lightly with his elbow, offering a crooked smile. “Babe, you’re bouncing your leg like you’re tweaking. Seriously, I’ve been around a lot of meth heads, and you’re giving me flashbacks.”

She snorted, covering her mouth as a burst of laughter escaped, her nerves momentarily easing. “I can’t help it, okay? This is… I’m freaking out.”

Dieter reached over, his fingers lacing through hers as he squeezed gently. “I get it, but you gotta chill. You’re acting like you’re on something, and trust me, I know that vibe.” He gave her hand another reassuring squeeze. “You’ve gotta stop reading all those Reddit posts. They’re nothing but horror stories.”

She nodded, though she still looked pale, her eyes flicking around the room as if searching for something to distract herself. “I know, I just… I can’t help it. I’ve read too many stories about 20-week scans going wrong. What if something’s wrong, Dieter? I don’t think I can handle it.”

Dieter leaned in closer, brushing a kiss against her temple. “Hey, nothing’s wrong. Our kid’s strong. Just like you. Baby’s gonna be fine, okay? Let’s just breathe.”

They were finally called into the scan room, and the doctor greeted them with a warm smile, chatting casually as she prepared the machine. “How are we feeling today? Ready to see this little one?” she asked, her voice calm and reassuring as she applied the cool gel to her belly. Dieter stood by her side, holding her hand tightly, both of them staring at the monitor with bated breath.

The doctor moved the wand over her stomach, her brows knitting slightly as she searched the screen, waiting for a heartbeat. At first, there was nothing—just static silence, the absence of that familiar, rhythmic thump that they both so desperately wanted to hear. The doctor adjusted the wand, repositioning and angling it slightly, her expression remaining neutral but focused.

Dieter could feel his wife’s grip tighten, her fingers digging into his, and he squeezed back, his own heart pounding. “Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with fear.

The doctor glanced at them, her smile reassuring but a little strained. “Sometimes the baby’s in a tricky position so it’s hard to get the heartbeat. Let’s just give it a moment.” She moved the wand again, her eyes flicking between the screen and her belly as she pressed a bit harder, trying to get a better view.

But the silence lingered, and the tension in the room grew thicker. Dieter could feel his pulse racing, his mind going a mile a minute. He tried to keep calm, tried to joke, but his voice came out strained. 

“Kid’s already messing with us, huh? Definitely takes after me.”

It falls flat, and he frowns deeper. 

The doctor’s brows furrowed as she moved the wand slowly, deliberately, the silence stretching on until it was almost unbearable. “Come on, little one,” she murmured under her breath, adjusting the machine again.

She glanced at Dieter and his wife, reading the fear on their faces. “I know it’s nerve-wracking, but try not to panic. This happens sometimes.” The words were meant to soothe, but each passing second felt like an eternity, and Dieter felt like the walls were closing in.

Suddenly, the doctor paused, her eyes widening slightly. “Oh—hold on. I think I forgot to turn on the sound.” She reached over and pressed a button on the machine, and instantly, the room filled with the steady, reassuring thump of their baby’s heartbeat, clear and strong.

Dieter and his wife both let out a collective sigh of relief, laughing shakily as the tension broke. “Oh my god,” she breathed, her head falling back against the table as she squeezed Dieter’s hand. “You just shaved ten years off my life.”

The doctor chuckled, her face apologetic. “I’m so sorry about that. It happens more often than you’d think.” She moved the wand slightly, showing them their baby on the screen. “There we go. Heartbeat is strong, and baby looks perfect.”

Dieter let out a shaky laugh, wiping at his eyes as he glanced at his wife. “Kid’s already got us on edge. I guess that’s just payback for all the years I’ve been a handful.”

They all shared a brief, much-needed laugh, the tension slowly melting away. But the doctor’s expression turned a bit more serious as she continued to move the wand, examining the screen with careful precision. She began marking key areas on the screen, capturing images and making notes as she went. “Now, remember, this is your 20-week scan,” she said, her tone gentle but factual. “This is an important one because it’s when we check for congenital anomalies. We’ll be looking closely at your baby’s organs and development to make sure everything is on track.”

Dieter and his wife nodded, their earlier relief tempered by the weight of what the doctor was saying. This wasn’t just about hearing the heartbeat; it was about seeing if their baby was healthy, if everything was developing the way it should. The room fell quiet again, the soft whir of the machine the only sound as the doctor carefully scanned each part of their baby’s tiny body, capturing and saving images to review.

“We’re looking at the brain and skull,” the doctor explained, pointing to the image on the screen as she took a snapshot. “The structures look well-formed, and everything is measuring normally.” She moved the wand again, pausing over the baby’s chest and marking the image. “And here’s the heart. We’re checking for proper function, looking at the chambers and blood flow. So far, everything looks great.”

Dieter squeezed his wife’s hand, the feeling of both awe and anxiety filling the cavity of his chest. Every tiny movement on the screen felt monumental, every word from the doctor a lifeline. The doctor continued, showing them the spine, the kidneys, the limbs—every detail scrutinized with care and captured for documentation.

“And here’s the stomach and the diaphragm. We’re looking for normal positioning and function,” she said, moving methodically, her voice steady and calm. “All good signs here.” She took another image, marking it on the screen with a series of measurements.

Dieter’s wife squeezed his hand, her eyes locked on the screen, watching their baby’s tiny fingers flex and curl. “Is that… is that the baby’s hand?” she asked, her voice soft, filled with wonder.

“Yes, it is,” the doctor smiled, zooming in on the tiny hand and capturing the image. “Five fingers, all accounted for.”

They watched in silence, their emotions swinging from relief to fear and back again with every scan of the baby’s developing organs. The doctor’s voice was steady, reassuring them as she checked for any signs of congenital anomalies. Each confirmation that everything was normal felt like a small victory, a breath they didn’t realize they were holding.

“Everything looks normal and healthy,” the doctor finally said, pulling back and saving the last image. “Your baby is developing beautifully.”

Dieter and his wife both let out breaths they hadn’t realized they were holding, their hands still clasped tightly together. It wasn’t just relief—it was gratitude, to the doctor and the universe, for keeping their little bun healthy. 

They thanked the doctor, their voices filled with a concoction of relief, exhaustion, and overwhelming joy. As they left the office, they felt lighter, buoyed by the knowledge that their baby was safe and thriving. There’s only one thing for them to do now: start telling their family and friends. 

–

“You okay?” Dieter asked, his voice gentle as they pulled into his parents’ driveway. The house looked warm and welcoming, draped in fairy lights that twinkled against the evening sky, but she couldn’t quite shake the tightness in her chest.

She nodded, but it was automatic, her mind racing with thoughts she hadn’t fully processed, and her tears just started spilling like clockwork. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… it’s a lot, you know? Your parents are going to be so happy, and I—I don’t have that anymore. I don’t have anyone to tell.” She tried to laugh it off, her voice catching slightly, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “God, listen to me. I’m such a mess. It’s probably just hormones.”

Dieter squeezed her hand, his expression softening. He knew how much she missed her dad, how his absence lingered in moments like these. “It’s not just hormones, baby,” he said gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “You’re allowed to feel this. I wish your dad was here, too. I think about it all the time—how proud he’d be, how he’d probably be spoiling you right now.”

She let out a shaky breath, “It’s stupid, but it just hit me today, you know? Like, he was the only family I had, and now… I guess I thought I was past all this. But it’s different now. This is so big, and I feel like I’m missing that piece.”

Dieter pulled her hand up, kissing her knuckles softly. “It’s not stupid. And you’re not without parents completely. My parents love you—hell, they might love you more than they love me. They text you more than they text me, anyway.”

She let out a laugh, and it felt good, a brief moment of lightness breaking through the weight in her chest. “They do, don’t they? They’re always sending me recipes, cute cat and dog vides, and asking for book recommendations. Meanwhile, you get the ‘how’s your liver?’ texts.”

Dieter grinned, happy to see her smile even through tears. “Exactly. Trust me, they’re going to be over the moon about this. You’re their family, too. And yeah, it’s big—it’s bigger than anything we’ve done—but you don’t have to carry that alone. My parents, they’re gonna be here, every annoying, loving step of the way.”

She squeezed his hand, feeling a little more grounded. “Thanks, babe. I needed that.”

Dieter nodded, his own emotions bubbling under the surface. He knew how hard this was for her, and he wanted to make sure she never felt like she was alone in this. “Hey, we’re in this together. And we’re about to make their year, so let’s go in there and give them something to celebrate.”

They stepped out of the car, hand in hand, and walked up to the front door. She adjusted her coat, feeling the weight of the moment settle in her chest, but Dieter squeezed her hand reassuringly. They’d been parked for a while, gathering themselves, and now it was time. Dieter knocked, and within seconds, the door swung open.

Dieter’s mother stood there, her expression a mix of concern and relief. “Oh, there you are! We were starting to get worried—you’ve been sitting out there for ages. I thought maybe something was wrong.”

“Everything’s fine,” Dieter assured her, giving her a quick hug. “We were just… talking.”

His mom nodded, though she kept glancing between them, still a little uncertain. “It’s so good to see you two! Come in, come in.”

Dieter’s father was in the living room, setting out coffee and cookies on the table. He looked up, grinning in his usual dry way. “Hey, you two. What’s this? I thought you’d be busy writing another bestseller or maybe dragging Dieter around to get some culture.”

Dieter laughed, shaking his head. “Well, it’s not that, but it’s something just as good.”

His wife exchanged a quick look with him, her nerves sparking up again. Dieter, sensing her hesitation, gave her an encouraging smile and gently reached up to help her with her coat. As he slipped it off her shoulders, he draped it neatly over the back of the couch, revealing the gentle curve of her growing bump.

His parents’ eyes widened, and for a second, they both just stared, taking it in. Dieter’s mom’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears. “Oh my gosh… are you…?”

Dieter’s wife nodded, her voice trembling with a mix of nerves and joy. “We’re having a baby. I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, there was only stunned silence, and then his mom let out a joyous cry, rushing forward to hug her. “Oh, sweetheart! This is the most wonderful news! Look at you—how far along are you? I can’t believe it!”

Dieter’s dad, who usually kept his emotions under wraps, pulled Dieter into a hug, his voice thick with pride. “Son, this is incredible. I can’t tell you how happy I am for you. I’m not sure if you remember this, but there was a time when I wasn’t sure you’d ever get your life together, let alone settle down.”

Dieter blinked, caught off guard by his dad’s words. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.” He hesitated, swallowing hard before speaking again. “I know I’ve been a mess, but… I’m really excited about this. I want to do it right.”

His father clapped him on the shoulder, his expression warm. “You’ve already done right by me. You’ve grown up, Dieter, more than I ever thought possible. And now you’re going to be a dad. I couldn’t be prouder.”

They all settled into the living room, Dieter’s mom already buzzing with plans. “Okay, so tell me everything! When’s the due date? How are you feeling? Have you thought about names yet? We have to start planning—oh, and the nursery! We’ll need to paint, get a crib—”

Dieter held up his hands, laughing. “Mom, slow down. You’re going to choke yourself on your own saliva with how fast you’re going. One thing at a time.”

She laughed, waving him off but nodding. “Okay, okay. But this is just… it’s all so exciting. I’ve been waiting for this day for so long, and now it’s finally happening.”

Dieter’s wife smiled, feeling the warmth of Dieter’s mom’s excitement wash over her. “Thank you. Really, I’m so glad we get to share this with you. It’s been a lot to take in, but having you both here means the world.”

Dieter’s mom squeezed her hand, her eyes filled with emotion. “You’re not without parents completely, you know that, right? You’ve got us now. We’re going to be right here with you, every crazy, wonderful moment.”

She nodded, fighting back tears. “I’m so grateful for that. You have no idea.”

Dieter’s dad leaned in, his voice quieter but no less heartfelt. “And I mean it, Dieter. I see the way you are with her, how much you’ve grown. You’ve got this, both of you. And I know you’re going to be amazing parents.”

As they continued to talk, laugh, and make plans, one thing stood out among them– they knew there was so much ahead—so many unknowns, so many firsts—but for now, it was enough to just be together and celebrate this beautiful news.

–

After spending a few hours basking in the joy and warmth of Dieter’s parents, they knew the next step was sharing the news with the rest of the world. It felt like another hurdle, one they were both eager and anxious to jump. They drove back home, feeling the weight of their secret beginning to lift. 

Once they were settled on their couch, they knew it was time to tell Dieter’s manager. Dieter pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, glancing over at his wife. “Ready?”

She nodded, though a nervous flutter still twisted in her stomach. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

Dieter hit the call button, putting it on speaker. His manager picked up on the second ring, his voice chipper and businesslike. “Dieter, my man! What’s up? You ready to talk about the next big project? We’ve got offers coming in like crazy.”

Dieter laughed, exchanging a look with his wife. “Hey, uh, about that… we’ve got something to tell you. It’s kind of a big deal.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then his manager’s voice dropped, curious and cautious. “Oh God, are you in trouble again? Do I need to get a lawyer on the line?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Dieter said quickly, his grin wide. “Actually, it’s the opposite of trouble.”

His wife jumped in, smiling as she spoke. “We’re having a baby.”

The line went quiet for a beat, and then his manager erupted in a cheer. “What? Oh my God! Are you serious? This is amazing! Bravo’s having a baby! You two, this is incredible.”

They laughed, feeling the enthusiasm radiating through the phone. “Yeah, we’re serious,” Dieter said. “We’re excited, and we wanted to let you know before it goes public.”

His manager was still buzzing, the excitement palpable. “You’re going to break the internet with this. But listen, you’ve got to be prepared. This is going to be huge news—your fans, the media, everyone’s going to go nuts. Some good, some bad, you know how it is. But honestly, this is the best news I’ve heard all year.”

They chatted for a few more minutes, exchanging congratulations and discussing the logistics of managing the media frenzy that would inevitably follow. Once they hung up, Dieter turned to her, his eyes bright. “You ready to tell the world?”

She nodded, and together, they crafted a simple but heartfelt post for social media. They chose a candid photo taken that morning, with Dieter’s hand resting protectively over her small bump, both of them smiling with unfiltered joy. The caption read: Our greatest adventure yet. Baby Bravo coming soon.

They hit ‘share,’ and within moments, the post began to explode. Likes, comments, and shares flooded in at a speed that was almost overwhelming. Messages of congratulations poured in from friends, fans, and fellow celebrities. The overwhelming support was heartwarming, and they found themselves caught up in the happiness of it all.

But as the notifications kept coming, there were, of course, some that stung. Dieter scrolled through, his brow furrowing at the inevitable wave of negativity from the corners of his fanbase that couldn’t handle change.

“She’s probably just using him for fame. Classic.”

“Guess Dieter’s fun days are officially over.”

“He doesn’t deserve this. What about all the times he said he didn’t want kids?”

Dieter sighed, shaking his head as he turned off the screen. “I knew there’d be some backlash, but damn. People can be ruthless.”

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her own emotions in check. “I mean, I expected some of it, but it still hurts. I just thought… I don’t know, that people would be happy for us.”

Dieter pulled her into his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Hey, don’t let them get to you. They don’t know us. They don’t know what we’ve been through to get here. This is our moment, not theirs.”

She nodded, leaning into his comfort. “I know, it’s just… I guess I didn’t expect people to be so… mean. I thought this would be different.”

Dieter kissed her temple, his touch gentle. “Some people will never be happy, babe. But look at all the love we’ve got here.” He pulled up the comments from their closest friends, the ones who knew them beyond the headlines. Messages of support, love, and shared joy filled the screen, reminding them of the people who truly mattered.

“Look at this one,” Dieter said, reading aloud. “‘I always knew you’d be the best parents. Baby Bravo is lucky to have you both.’” He smiled, scrolling down. “And this one—‘I’m so proud of you guys. Can’t wait to meet the little one.’”

She smiled, letting the warmth of those messages push away the sting of the negativity. “I guess we have to focus on that, huh?”

“Exactly,” Dieter said, squeezing her close. “This is our family. Our life. And no one gets to take that away from us.”

They spent the rest of the evening curled up together, ignoring the noise of the outside world and focusing on the love that poured in from those who truly understood. Their phones continued to buzz, and the news spread quickly, but for now, it was just the two of them, dreaming about their future with the baby they were already so deeply in love with.

A few weeks had passed since their announcement, and life had begun to settle into a new kind of normal. 

They were still receiving messages of congratulations, along with the occasional snarky comment, but the love outweighed the negativity by miles. 

Dieter and his wife had embraced this next phase with open hearts, pouring over baby books, setting up the nursery, and spending quiet moments together, dreaming about the future.

One night, as they sat in the nursery—still half-finished, with paint samples and swatches scattered everywhere—Dieter was busy assembling a crib, grumbling softly as he fumbled with the instructions. His wife sat cross-legged on the floor, watching him with a soft smile, one hand resting on her belly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for your dad to help with that?” she teased, noting his intense focus and the stray bolts lying around.

Dieter looked up, smirking. “Nah, I’ve got it. Besides, I’ve got to prove I can put something together that’s not going to collapse on us. I mean, it’s literally a crib. If I can do this, I can do anything.”

She laughed, watching as he finally managed to fit the pieces together, looking far too proud of himself. He stood back, admiring his handiwork before turning to her, his smile broad and genuine. “See? Told you I’d figure it out.”

She patted the spot beside her on the floor, and he sat down, pulling her into his side. They sat there quietly for a moment, both gazing at the crib—the first tangible piece of their new life together.

“Can you believe this is happening?” she murmured, her voice soft with wonder. “Sometimes it still feels like a dream.”

Dieter nodded, his hand drifting to rest over her bump. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been in a lot of weird dreams, but this… this is the best one. And it’s real.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat against her cheek. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?”

He turned to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “We already are, baby. And it’s only going to get better.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in the promise of what was to come—messy, beautiful, and entirely theirs.

[dino-eevee]

Key chain designs part one

[ciel-bell]

Been reading a lot of stuff with Garfield lately

[texaschainsawmascara]

Mads

[bununiniji]

been feeling like absolute shit lately and life sucks anyways i tried doing traditional inking again but it looks like ass

ugh jeg elskr brenn så mye ohmygoddøøsøalkskpdpw

[dailydccomics]

the Doom Patrol by Michael and Laura Allred

[we-will-swallow-your-soul]

[cookierunauprompts]

Sorry if you're busy with something, but can you make a prequel to request prompt #4 where pure vanilla cookie saves shadow milk cookie from inside the soul jam. I'd imagine a rather angst fuelled interaction, considering I'd headcanon Shadow Milk cookie as a rather stubborn individual (Because he doesn't like looking like an idiot), and consequently, he has trouble asking for help, especially with his corruption.

Requested Prompt #7 - 💔

There was darkness, darkness and more darkness. Pure Vanilla didn't think that the other half of his soul jam would be this dark... But then again, it's owner was rather corrupted. Now he just had to- " Hello?" A voice sounded out, that's odd, he doesn't remember bringing anyone with him when he casted the spell... Unless- He turned to face the cookie that had spoken, briefly fearing the worst and that he'd been found by the mental version of Shadow Milk Cookie. That would be bad considering that he'd probably get stuck here if he had been The cookie standing before him had eerie similarities to the beast although, Yet this one looked more... scholarly? Don't get him wrong, he could clearly see the jester motifs, it was just more... subtle? " Who are you?" He asked, why would there be someone who didn't wield the soul jam in here? Unless... " I should be asking you that." The mysterious cookie huffed, crossing his arms. " This is the first solid ground I've been able to stand on in centuries, and you show up here at the same time? Can't be coincidence." Pure Vanilla gazed at the empty section in the Other Cookie's clothes, the shape reminded him far too much of his own soul jam... So then, this had to be... " Are you... Shadow Milk Cookie?" He asked, looking the other up and down. A sigh escaped the other cookie's lips. " The one and only, you still haven't told me who you are or why you're here though. And I'm not too fond of being kept in the dark." Shadow Milk(???) seemed to take a brief look around before shuddering just the slightest bit. " Oh, I'm Pure Vanilla Cookie." He began, briefly wondering whether he could trust this other cookie. But then again, you cannot deceive your very own mind. " I came here to look for a way to defeat... you?" " Oh, the beast." Shadow Milk said, a frown gracing his lips. " Look, I don't know how to beat it, if I did then I wouldn't be here. I'd have my own body back." Pure Vanilla felt a grimace tug at his lips, was there truly no hope to defeating the beast? Shadow Milk seemed to notice Pure Vanilla's despair. " But... I bet you could seal it, somehow..." The two's conversation was cut short by a sudden rumble, the vibrations seemed to send Shadow Milk into a panic. " !!- No, not now!" " The ground is, turning into liquid?" Pure Vanilla said almost stunned by the sudden change. " Listen! You need to get out of here right now! If you're still here when the floor is gone, then you'll be trapped forever!" Shadow Milk warned, to Pure Vanilla's hesitance. " I'll be fine! I've dealt with this for over thousands of years, just GO!"

....

Or, seeking a way to defeat Shadow Milk Cookie, Pure Vanilla cookie enters the dark side of his soul jam. However, he also meets the original Shadow Milk Cookie???

[heckyeahponyscans]

Truly baffled by people who think the Beast was transformed when he was 12, based on a rando lyric in "Be Your Guest."

Wow, that is one tall, buff twelve year old! In plate mail, no less!

This is literally what he looked like. Nearly identical to how he appears in the finale. He's probably been twenty years old for a decade. He lives in an enchanted castle.

[popcornforone]

Professional

A Dieter Bravo Fan Fic

I for ages have been trying to write Dieter. One of my friends adores him as their favourite Pedro, & I keep toying with ideas & it’s never stuck, but today (8 August) for some reason it has & I’ve started writing him & I have spent the entire night writing him & loved every second. I think I’ve done him justice.

Synopsis:- Dieter has been nominated for another Oscar, & so is coming onto your critically acclaimed talk show ahead of the awards. The two of you just need to keep it professional.

Word count: 7800

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOH ARE UNDER 18. PIV mirror sex, mentions of drug & alcohol abuse, rehab, mentions of mental health & other illnesses & injuries including strokes, sex in a place of work, swearing, secret relationship,mentions of the mile high club.

Thank you all so much for reading this, I hope you’ve enjoyed this interview styled fic, all feed back is always welcome

“Lemons Laugh Longer than Leopards” you say into your microphone as you test it, walking into the room to do your interview. It always makes whoever the runner is with your coffee laugh, which then always makes you smile & then, because you are smiling, it will make whoever you are interviewing for the 30 minutes with series, automatically open up to you. This shouldn’t be a problem today though, todays guest you need to be professional & not be your true self.

The room is set up simply as usual. You usually make sure whoever you interview is offered a throw for their arm chair or cushion, but today with who you are talking to, you know exactly what they need. The two arm chairs & table set up as they usually would be. Black leather but not the kind that leaves marks or gets sweaty. One you can easily lean forward & make movements to show that you are in charge of the interview & that this is your talk show. You’ve come a very long way in no time at all. The pandemic suddenly saw your talk show viewership online increase dramatically. Your format always used to be remote before you started to make it big a few years ago, so you were all set up to just do it again, & then just send it to an editor & producer to adjust it, your much more professional that you were when you started, & your guests are now much more high profile & need less convincing then they used to, to spend 30minutes talking with you.

“Mr Bravo…” you stand up from your arm chair, as he walks in & extend your hand. He’s actually put an effort in today. So many times have you interviewed or seen this man just in his green Bath robe or in his sweatpants, his tummy hanging out. Too often have you seen the fall out from the nights of partying. But no today Dieter has a dark shirt on & some comfortable trousers. For him this is as smart as he will get for any interview. Only a red carpet or Oscar appearance will make him dress fancier.

“Long time no see” he cackles as he shakes your hand & you raise an eyebrow.

“Professional Dieter, remember…”

“Yes I know, I know, a lot of strings have been pulled yada yada, i get it I do, I’m trying to care & for once, I actually really am” that makes your smile even bigger as his make up is touched up & his own microphone is tested for volume. He’s trying to play this straight too. Your can tell by the look in his eyes as he removes his sun glasses to do the interview that this is him being genuine.

His hair is still wild which you can tell the people on your show aren’t happy about. You can hear them chatting in your ear piece that they will give your prompts for. But you & Dieter don’t want the internet to turn him into another meme. Baby chicken did make you both laugh previously but you want this to be an interview that will go down in history. That when people on youtube type in Dieter Bravo Oscar interview, in years to come, see yours as one of the top mentions, but for the right reasons.

“He’s here & has put effort in, knock it off” you whisper into your microphone, but you do it loudly enough that he can hear. You sit down in your chair & adjust your own outfit. Your tailored trousers & black jacket shine & gleam in their Prestine state, your silver heels look good with your black nail varnish on both your hands & feet. You’ve done that on purpose but no one except Dieter has noticed at all. Dieter has also noticed, that under that jacket there is no top, just a black lace bra.

“So much for keeping it professional” he mumbles under his breath as he sits in his chair. His mind now wondering slightly but then when he sees you casually smiling, he remembers he’s here to be interviewed, not look at how see through your lace is.

“Are you happy to start Dieter?” You ask as you tap your iPad on for your few notes, not that you need them, you know exactly what to ask the soon to be double Oscar winner. He gestures to the runner for a bottle of ice water which is brought over.

“Well maybe an extra hour in bed this morning would have been nice, but managers are managers & interviews have to happen” he smugly says as he checks himself out in the mirror to the side of him, making sure he’s happy.

“Did you look at roughly what I wanted to ask? I will deviate slightly, you know that, but it will stay towards what you were shown?”

“I know how your interviews go, we’ve done this a hundred times. it’s chill, I’m chilled you’re calm, we will have fun” Dieter winks & sits back in his chair. “Do your worst darling”

5,4… the count down starts in your ear ready to go & start interviewing the actor the world is desperate to hear from. You smile straight down the camera, take a deep breath saying in your mind it’s just Dieter & begin.

“Welcome to 30 minutes with… on this awards special we are talking to the current toast of Hollywood, the man who everyone wants to see on the big screen, the man who everybody has to talk to & get a selfie with. Oscar, Bafta & Emmy award winning actor Dieter Bravo. Dieter has been gracing our screens at home & at the cinema for over 20 years although he will still claim to only be 25. He claimed the lime light more in 2010 when he appeared in sci-fi thriller Beyond the Void, & has also stared in the movie The Letters & Flash Drive the HBO series. But he received global recognition for his supporting role in Your So Vein which won him countless accolades, including best supporting actor at the Oscar’s. Since then he has appeared in Cliff Beasts & now with his latest role in Isolations, he has once again picked up awards galore with the Oscar’s still to come in 5 weeks time” Dieter is very impressed with how professional you are reeling off all of his major achievements. Not once do you look down at your notes or an autocue, you do it professionally & in one take. He nods in admiration, which could be seen as him being proud of his own work but you catch a glimpse out of the corner of your eye that actually, those nods are all for you.

“Dieter, thank you so much for coming in to chat to us today for 30minutes, I know the world wants to speak to you but I just had to get in their first & you couldn’t really say no to an old friend could you?”

“The pleasure is all mine, I watch this show in my trailer on YouTube, me & you we go back to when you only used to have 5minutes with people” he chuckles. Dieter clearly has done his home work for the camera to show this is going to work, & be more than just the standard 30mins you get with other Hollywood big shots, & this makes you smile.

“Well you know more than most that I’ve come along way since then, much like you” you smile back, your trying to not let it show that you’ve known each other for longer than either of you care to remember, even before the 5minute videos, of crashing red carpets together. “So Dieter congratulations, another Oscar nomination, you already have a golden globe & a critics choice award for isolations, the BAFTAs are at the end of next week, how does it feel to get all this support & love for a role that’s gripped so many people?” You have to start with praise, you know that Dieter keeps things very close guarded in his life, both his troubled past & his private life. Buttering him up a bit might make him open up.

“Thank you, I know you’ve seen it, your not just saying that because you have to”, he starts off by shifting in his chair a little to get comfortable “getting the plaudits from your piers is always a nice thing. It always makes you so happy that you’re doing what you do. That it means something. But I do projects for me. I do it because it’s either something I’d like to watch myself, like Cliff Beasts, but I also want to do something that a challenge, you know. & sometimes the fans might be like the fuck has he made this or why is he a small part in that, but it’s just the way I flow, & I work. & when I find that grove I know if I’m putting in a good performance or not, & with Isolations it happened just as I hit the sweet spot in all the points in my life.” It’s a very honest answer from Dieter, probably one of the most honest answers anyone’s ever got from him & you on your little show have received it. Isolations might not just be changing Dieters life, it could be inadvertently about to change yours. Your producer however is moaning in your ear that Dieter swore, but you don’t care, they remind you to raise your hand slightly to tell them they may need to edit something for a of cleaner version.

“So are you saying that there are some performances you don’t give it all to?”

“Do you always give 100% every day?” He asks back accusingly.

“I always set out to Dieter”

“Well I always start to each project with that mind set. Some along the way you realise aren’t going to be your best piece of work, or you realise the story isn’t coming together, so then you just need to enjoy the experience. Have fun with the role.” You don’t press him he just follows on with “in 2015 I made a film called Above the Climb, it got slated, the lead in it Spencer Cable had to do so much damage control & took the flack from it. & we both sat there day 20 of filming going, this film is rubbish should we just have some fun & ad-lib some of this. The scene we did on the fly & the little side comments were deemed by everyone who saw it as the best parts of the film. We were proud that we made it enjoyable for others & we also got a kick out it” Dieter talking about Above the Climb in these terms is expected, but to be so honest about the process is so refreshing to hear an actor say that they don’t always have good days.

“I mean we can’t all be Tom Hanks can we & I can’t be Graham Norton” you joke & Dieter laughs. He’s always said you haven’t made in it life until you’ve got drunk on Nortons sofa for his Friday talk show, & he knows when this interview is done he will be hopping on a plane to do just that.

“Well you are my warm up for him.” Your banter & conversation is so organic. This is so natural to you both.

“That’s the best compliment any interviewee has ever given me” your smile is so genuine & so is his back to you. For all of 2 second you pause before realising you can’t stare into those deep brown eyes all day, & look at him twitch his pinkie ring. You’ve got questions to ask.

“You don’t like talking about your personal life anymore, but we all know you’ve had let’s say an interesting past…” you know your pushing the envelope here especially as he edges forward in his chair. Dieter has been known to walk out of interviews which go too far especially since the last Cliff Beasts film.”…in away did your past help you develop more of the character of Jackson in isolations? Was there any part that you thought could have been crossing between fiction & reality?” You’ve asked this in a clever way which he is impressed with. It’s not a oh how are you now off the drugs & the hundreds of crazy parties, you’ve asked it in a way where all he had to do is talk about the film.

“Jackson does embody some of my less desirable traits for sure. I had been off the coke since the end of the lock downs, the world saw my near death experience in the press. It was scary & I did after a while lock myself inside my head, my demons did try & take over, but it did take a lot of support & loyalty from the friends around me to get me through it. Those who really know me got me through & I listened to their stories of me & my trauma before I started filming. I got an insight as to what it was like to put up with me & that made me realise even more how much these people cared for me” Dieter isn’t showing off. So often in interviews Dieter is the show off, stealing the spot light. But here his vulnerability is showing. You want to portray him for the man he really is, be it the man with the ego & also the man who is behind the persona the world sees.

“Would you say there are people who you thought were there for you who then weren’t?” As you ask this you see Dieter raise an eyebrow. You have known Dieter for a while, you know the circles he frequents & those who have always used him for personal gain, claiming to be friends, clearly in it for themselves not caring who gets hurt along the way.

“A few, I know who they are, & I know they didn’t want their reputations tarnished, but now they all are sitting there not being interviewed by you” Dieter firmly says back. You know this is the end of this line of questioning based on his body language. You know which 3 people this is, & you gave him a chance to call them out. A more intimidating interviewer would press further for names & gossip, but you would like to keep the status quo with him so leave it there.

“No they aren’t, you are. & not only are you here but as an Oscar Nominee again, is there anything you are experiencing differently with a second nomination that to the first time” you face returns to a friendly one which he reciprocates.

“People take me more seriously this time on the consideration circuit”

“How so?” You look shocked at his answer. This is Dieter Bravo, a name the world wishes they could have even glimpse at their script or return their phone call.

“First time people thought I was there as like a reward for my hard work. That I didn’t deserve it.” You go to shake your head & interrupt but he stops you before your lips can even part. “You don’t have to pretend. I know you didn’t, but a lot of people thought I was there to make up the numbers & said my win was a legacy win. It was only before this film came out that those critics re assessed Your So Vein & went okay maybe he can act. I felt a bit more validated this time. It feels more just. I did deserve my other Oscar, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I would have been gutted if I’d lost, but I won. I’m a winner it’s what I do.” Confident Dieter is coming to the surface now. You know confident Dieter is a pleasure to talk to.

“You’ve always said Your So Vein was fun to work on even before you got your recognition for it, & you’ve already talked about having fun on set. Is there any film you’ve enjoyed working on the most or was there a particular actor or director that was more fun that you thought would be?” Dieter sips his iced water as you say this & his eyes light up, he likes questions like this. If he had a tail it would wag.

“I adored & had the most fun making Sunship the 6 part comedy tv show I made. I was killed off in episode 6 but it was so much fun & I love how it kept going on for another 4 seasons. But as far as movies Lyra Watson is hilarious. At no point did a days filming on Bookworm ever feel like work, we laughed so much, & you can really see that when you watch the film back. It’s not often you get to be a ditsy bank robber is it?” He starts to laugh at his own memories of filming Bookworm & then he winks at you. You actual had a cameo in that film as a writer who smacked him across the head with a book. Something that you should have been on set for 2hours for, took 7hours due to the fact you just both kept acting up.

“Well I’m gonna say nothing, I know what a blast that film was” you say. You’re trying not to laugh too & it’s the first time since you’ve started talking with Dieter that you look at your iPad to check where you are at & also to see how much time you have left. Plenty, you think to yourself & then continue.

“So when you look back on your career like we are today, is there a role you wished you’d done differently? Or is there anything that you think with the knowledge you have now, that you think actually…”

“Beyond the Void!” He answers straight away which shocks you , both in his actual quickness to answer & that he picked the thing that made him a well known actor.

“Really!?” You reply high pitched which he smiles at, before then repeating it calmly & more professionally for the recording.

“There is nothing wrong with my role or performance in Beyond the Void, but I wish I’d have been more prepared for how my life changed because of it. I was I naive & suddenly had all this fame & could do what I wanted. Everyone assumed I’d be fine.”

“So you’d want to warn your younger self?”

“Yes, I’d tell them to still act the same but I’d tell them no meth, no 4am orgys & no burger eating challenges. The life style & that level of fame was fun but it made me out to be much more of a party boy than I am” Dieter is being the most frank he’s ever been in an interview. Maybe it’s because it’s with you & the vibe you have together, but not even Norton would get this out of him. He’s giving you the goods & you aren’t even digging for them. You can hear the producers in your ear going his people won’t want this. But you know Dieter. If he’s said it he won’t want to redact things, he will want this in full to be broadcast to the world.

“That’s very honest of you Dieter, do you think due to this past, it allows you to be more honest now that you’re looking back”

“Can I just say thank you…” you raise an eyebrow “… you just said looking back & didn’t say mistakes. So many people say that I made bad mistakes that clouded my judgment, but I don’t regret it, I just wish I knew the effects of it even if it was like 5minutes before I took that drug or had to go have an std test. I would do it all again because it’s made me who I am & im happy where i am in my life. I like my slightly dangerous play boy reputations, hell I’ve got parts due to it, but I just wish I had a small warning. Mistakes mould us to make us better people.”

“Wow” you say out loud & it takes you a few seconds to register your reaction to Dieter revelation & you being a professional recover form it “so many people would sit there & say it was a mistake or say no I’d rewind the clock & change it, but for you to sit there after everything, especially your stroke, & say you would do it again, is almost inspiring. I’m not saying it’s okay to take drugs or have sex filled orgys…” your producers haven’t even told you to apologise for that but you know impressionable teenagers are a huge part of your audience especially on tiktok & Instagram “…but the fact that you are saying you have got through it & yes you can get hold of more help than others struggling with it, but it’s also easier for people in the public eye to relapse.” You pause. You take a deep breath & then share a personal moment between the two of you that the world doesn’t know, but will now.

“I was there the day of your stroke, I called the ambulance, I went with you to hospital, I sat there & watched you go through hell in your hospital bed & then in your detox afterwards. Everyone knows we know each other, & that we have known each other for years, long before we both gained the fame, we now both have. To see you in that state knowing my friend was struggling & was in danger, it was horrible. To see you now thriving, surviving, living, im not afraid to say that I am so happy each time I see you.” Dieter can hear the emotion in your voice. You’ve always told him how happy & proud you were of him now, but you’ve never gone into that much detail about it & you’ve just talked about it for the world to hear. He puts his hand on his chest showing his anxiety at what you’ve just said & you copy him. There’s a few moments of unspoken silence between the two of you, before you calmly & professionally continue your professional interview with your close friend. You will always be there for each other.

“You aren’t on twitter anymore, but you do promote self care a lot on Instagram. Because, like you have been in the last few minutes, been so honest about your struggles do you see yourself as a mental health advocate?”

“Not really” Dieters voice sounds a bit pitched, he was clearly moved by your supporting words a minute ago. “I just want people to look after themselves & realise it’s okay not to be okay & that if they want to talk people out there will listen & if they want help it’s okay to ask for it. But if they don’t, the world needs to understand people deal with it differently” he runs his hand through this untamed hair as he says this. Watching that large hand go through his locks always to this day always catches you off guard.

“Do you think talking about your own struggles helps?”

“Yes. I like to talk. I know I give off the bad party boy style, but talking even if it’s just going urgh my life or being honest that you’re not enjoying something is important. Sometime you just need to cut the bullshit out” you nod in agreement while waving your finger in the way of the editing booth. His swear words will need bleeping unfortunately despite you & your audience knowing exactly what he will be saying.The producer in your ear sounds happy that you picked that up this time.

“Do you see yourself as an Instagram influencer?”

“Ha” he cackles & you snigger too, you know he hates that phrase. You always pick on him for what he puts on there or mucking up his stories or taking a selfie that’s a video. “I hate that word. Influence haha. Freeloaders more like. Oh it’s all got to be on Instagram or it didn’t happen. I know I use it, but I do it for me for work not so I can get a contract or sponsorship. Everyone wants their 15minutes of fame but no one wants to work for it. Yes I am Privileged & so are you to be in our positions we have now. But we earned it. We did it the hard way & we made it. This new generation are easily disposable, the tiktok trendies with only a 30seconds attention span, that we have to condense an advert down to to get viewers for our show or movie. It’s pathetic. & fuck I sound old moaning at that” he sinks back into his chair after his rant. Dieters always talked about earning your place in the world, & you know he won’t get cancelled for this rant, it’s actually much more restraint than he could have been. You then both look at each other & start properly laughing. You can even hear production laughing in your ear.

You look at your tablet you’ve covered most of what you wanted to but it says you’ve got about 6minutes left before you need to tie off the interview, so you go a bit left field.

“Who’s going with you to the Oscar’s? A family member, a friend, a special person?” He raises an eyebrows because you both know the answer & you wanted to see if you could trip him up in his comfortable state.

“That remains to be decided” he says rubbing his hands together, eyes telling you to move on along with a few more things.

“Do you know what you’re wearing to the Oscar’s?”

“Well the bathrobe isn’t designer chic is it?” He cackles “I’m not wearing a standard tux, let’s put it that way.” You both seem to be enjoying these quick simple questions so you throw a few more in.

“Favourite character you wished you’d played & why?”

“Ferris Buller, iconic, feel good & fun”

“What’s your favourite film to put on to cry?”

“Up” Dieter is just going along with the rapid questions. You’ve not even asked, just both have a mutual understanding after all these years of how your show works. Long gone are the 3am podcasts on trying to make it in the industry or the 5minute YouTube shorts. But your format has always been honesty & Dieter has always been happy to share.

“Sweet or Salted popcorn?”

“Why?” He stops dead in his answer “why do you always have to ask this? It’s a deal breaker I know but I’m never answering not in front of the camera, all popcorn is delicious”

“Chicken” you giggle.

“Sorry?

“You heard me, baby chicken” he was once turned into a meme when he had his hair slicked back for an event, that he looked like a freshly hatched chick. It’s a good thing you know each other so well, as when your eyes meet you both fall apart in hysterics.

“& I thought you were gonna be professional” Dieter roars back slapping his leg as he bends over, tears almost falling from his face as you try to calm down to regain your composure to end the interview. “Ooh that takes me back to the food old days, when between us we had 20 fans & 16 of them were yours” he laughs before gathering himself again.

“Then maybe we should end with a question like back in the day Dieter.” You raise an eyebrow so he can work out what you’re about to ask him.

“Oooh a throw back yes please, bet you didn’t do this with DiCaprio.” His smirk shows that you both have each other in the palm of your hand. A smirk that gets all men & women into his bed, the smirk of seduction.

You mute your ear piece & face Dieter square on, as you can hear the Gallery panicking that this want pre planned. They have no idea how Dieter is going to react to whatever you know spontaneously ask.

“How about one last time we do a never have I ever…” you wink. “For those of you who haven’t followed my career, I used to end all my podcasts & interviews with a never have I ever questions which then I’d respond to & do my own, so for example Clare Blip has never watched a Harry Potter movie…”

“No way!” Dieter exhales

“Well she might have done now, it was 3 years ago, she had some lockdowns to do them in. Anyhow Dieter do you want to go first or should I?” You lean forward trying to guess what he’s going to say. You feel as excited as the first time you came up with the concept, it’s such a brilliant way of finding information out about other people. You were shocked no one had done this before.

“I’ll go first…” he says licking his lips & rubbing his hands he’s got a good one, he was always king of this when you used to play it on the episodes he came on. “Never have I ever…” he’s not lost his touch as he pauses for dramatic effect “… received a love letter or email”

“Awww Dieter really?”

“Yep not even a valentines card”

“Ooh that makes me feel sad.”You go to reach his hand but realise he’s a bit to far away. “Okay I have, I did last Valentine’s Day, it was really sweet, & I had no idea & im very lucky to have him in my life” you smile trying not to make eye contact as you think of your own one to say. “Okay my never have I ever is…I have never dated someone to get ahead in this world, I’ve only ever dated for love or a relationship”

“Really?” Dieter asks suspiciously, “what about” you shoot him a look “okay okay, your asking questions not me. Obviously I have, you know I have, the world knows I have, but that was me high on life can you blame me?”

“No, not really” you say sighing as your tablet hits the end of the silent timer.

“Dieter Bravo, today has been more than a pleasure for this episode of 30 minutes with, I know we’re friends & have known each other for longer than we both care to admit, but it’s just so easy talking with your professionally & personally, I hope you’ve had an enjoyable time on the show”

“I have thank you so much for having me on, for taking me seriously, but I do miss the 3am podcasts we used to do.” Dieter sits back in his chair as you do all the boring generic goodbye for your show & then you also record a couple of trailers & do a few quick photos together before you head back to your dressing room to get changed.

Your flight doesn’t leave for a couple of hours but you can’t wait to get out of your tailored trousers. There’s only so much your large Holdem in knickers can do, they do a bloody good job keeping your tummy flat but you can’t wait to put on a comfortable dress with leggins & be sitting in business class soon drinking a mimosa before your flight. The door clicks & you smile as you hear it shut. You know what’s coming next. Large hands come around your waist & start unbuttoning the jacket you are wearing.

“Was that good baby?” Dieter moans in your ear before he turns you around.

“You were very professional my sexy trash panda, not once did you let it slip that we’ve been in an exclusive relationship for the last 11 months” your hand goes into his beard, enjoying the prickles against your palm before your lips finally meet his. You have wanted to kiss him all day but know only a handful of people on set know your dating, let alone that the week after the Oscar’s you are marrying the world a most eligible Batchelor. His kisses are always so passionate even when they are small but todays feel like fire. The aren’t entirely forbidden but neither of you can hold back anymore.

“I doubt what I’m about todo is at all professional” his eyes pop wide when he sees how lacy your bra is under the jacket, almost see through. “Ooh baby, you practically had theses two on show for the world to see, but they belong to me, my hands & my mouth” he says as his shirt comes off & his trousers pool around his ankles. Your hand that’s not roaming his hair as you make out caresses Dieters own tummy, sinking your thumb into his belly button a few times to make him gasp. Soon his own hands have dealt with your trousers too.

“You did lock the door baby?” You pant as you start unhooking your bra.

“This isn’t my first back stage dalliance baby, you know that…”

“Yes because I walked in on you once when…”

“Yes I know, I know I … oooh baby” Dieters has a brain malfunction as your breasts are now free. His hands go straight to them. Your breasts aren’t small, but his hands are so large they eclipse them. While he does this, your own hands go inside his briefs, making sure he is ready for a few moments time. Taking his length & starting to enjoy how hard he gets.

“Ooh Dieter, my sexy lover, fuck me like you’re at a sex drunk orgy” you moan. Professional you all of 15mins ago would be lived at how quickly your begging for 2015s celebrity sex pest to take you in a place where other people could potential interrupt if they have the right key, but it’s not like this is a one off. Dieters been officially yours for almost a year, with no one else on the side for him. You’d been a friend with benefits over the years, if one of you broke up or needed pleasure, if the other was in the same country, you’d both try & get to each other, to satisfy each others desires. You’ve done this after about a year into knowing each other. This right now though is more than that. It is love & passion & desire, no-ones taking it away from either of you.

Baskets of hair & make up products slide off the dresser which he tries to catch in his eagerness to lay you down & start fucking you. You love his clumsy little nature & grab 2 products that you know cost a lot before reaching over the the chair to put them in before you ask him how he wants you.

“I think lie on your side if possible baby, that mirror is big. If I get you at the right angle I can watch you take my fat cock, watch it make you flutter, another memory for the lonely nights without you.” He says as he rolls your massive knickers down & his face gleams as he lowers you onto the dresser. “You know your Bridget Jones knickers are always a huge turn on baby, but I don’t actually care about your little rolls, you don’t care about mine, I love to embrace your body in every respect.” You got to say oh ahh to Dieter, but your mouth falls open doing an ooo noise when he removes his briefs. Your handy work has left his shaft leaking already. This is going to be so passionate you might break the dresser as he slides his way towards you once he is also perched on it.

He swipes his penis through your arousal.

“Dieter my love please, I want you my love, I need you, want to sit on the plane to London thinking about how good you feel.”

“Who says we’re not joining the mile high club?” He says his smile twitches.

“That’s creepy…” you start but then in unison you both then say “…but I like it” quoting one of his Cliff Beasts lines. He then silences you by thrusting deep inside you in one motion, filling you up so you take all of his penis. “Fuck me” you moan.

“I’m going to baby, god you always feel so good” he says as another firm thrust makes your body quiver, thighs already trembling. “Why did I ever share this pussy with so many other men for years?” This makes you moan. Dieter had never admitted he was jealous of other men you saw & dated when you had a casual relationship, but clearly today has made him really open. He starts to move which makes your pelvis & hips respond in pleasure, rolling for him.

“Look at you baby” you eyes are drawn To your mound which is experiencing pleasure, “ooh no baby, look in the mirror” the hand that was on your shoulder holds your chin so you can see the whole view. There are your reflections. You’re on your side, your hair already becoming disheveled as he moves back to holds your shoulder & grips your arse. His movements deliberate, his rhythm found, the pounding of your pussy has begun, watching it go inside you, as you love the feel he has as he drags your walls. You’re gripping to the end of the dresser by your head, your other hand moving to help keep you going to make sure you get off. You look at the state of the both of you & a small smile forms on your lips, especially when sweat drips from his untamed hair on to your body bellow. He’s going for it & you look so bloody sexy. “Does my girl now realise how sexy she is? Does she realise that your pussy is perfect for my penis? Do You enjoy the view? Should I go faster? Harder? Deeper?” The last word was said almost menacingly, it was deep & it make you clamp around him, which in turn makes him do all 3 of those things, as he exclaims “fucking love how tight you feel when I turn you on baby, why did I waste time with others, we were both fools”

“Dieter, fuck, yea that feels, oooooh yeaaaaa, don’t stop baby” looking at the two of your bodies getting sweaty & fucking the other until neither of you can function anymore is addictive. You know why Dieter wanted to take you here. This will not just be in his mind for a while but it will be in yours too. It’s his side profile that’s making you moan. His face is glistening, as the sweat pours from it. His well defined features looking so feral & full of desire as he starts to look at your body to make sure you are feeling all of it. the little oohs that escape his mouth each groan, his lips that are so plump parting as he pants. He might have been deemed a sex pest but it’s because of all those dalliances & late night orgies that you are getting the full experience. You are feeling all of him. Everyone else Dieter has ever slept with, means that you gets nights of unadulterated pleasure & lust.

“God you’re loving this, so responsive today baby, oooh fuck yes” he’s moaning throughout this sentence as you keep whining. You didn’t know your body could quiver like this & your added friction from your hand on your clit is making your grind faster. The stimulation is incredible & you can feel every motion.

“Dieter oh baby, you have me, have me, oh fuck just like that” your eyes have now left his face in the reflection. No longer watching his eyes go squid ink black, as his teeth snap almost as much as his body. Because that’s where your eyes are. On his thighs that are so thick, then & his hips generating all the thrusting power as he goes deeper inside you. He has trimmed but he’s not clean shaven, but he knows it makes his penis look longer, not that you need anymore, he’s the biggest you’ve ever had. There was more reasons as to why you always came back for more, but feeling how deep he went inside you, the only man to make your scream, finding the sweet spot that he hits multiple times each session without even trying, that definitely made sure you never said no to Dieter.

“Keep moaning baby” Dieter starts to pull your hair, which makes your body jolt & you gasp for air. You’re so turned on. You’re so feral. Your pelvis moving with your hips, clamping around him every few thrusts, gyrating for all of his desire. “I like it when you moan, it reminds me how needy you are for me.” He’s moaning too, loving how your body has started to shake. Both your climaxes building up. Watching your nipples get hard, looking at how well you take him. You really were made for each other & as the mirror starts to steam up from your panting & heat from your sweat builds up you both know you’re almost there.

“Oh fuck Dieter yea”

“You like this baby?”

“Yes”

“More mirror fucking going forward?”

“Oooh yesss”

“So tight, why you so good?”

“I’m yours, only yours”

“Remember that baby”

“Ooh fuck Dieter, I can’t control it”

“So wet, fuck, so good”

All these sentances in a quick exchange are panted out inbetween moans, he can’t go any faster & you have lost control of your body rotating your lower body anti clockwise. The build exquisite, the orgasm is going to hit tou hard, & it’s time for your body to give in. You bite your bottom lip & gasp as Dieter growls.

“Soak me darling. Make sure I’m yours”

“Fuck fuck fuck oh god yessssss” you gush & let go, eurphoria sweeping across you, clamping & covering his penis with yohr cum as you scream his name at the end of your extended deep moan. “Fuck baby yes yes oh fuck”

“Yea yea that feel so so, oh fuck” Dieters own praise of you going through your own high springs him into his own. Lashings of sperm fill your core, painting your insides, oozing into you. Your body slowly stops shaking as your intense pleasure slows down as he then also make his way down from a high he hasn’t experienced in year. Maybe the best random sex he’s ever had.

“Fuck me daring, that was another level” he eventually says once his heavy breathing has slowed down & he hops off the dresser & helps you sit up. His lips finding your for the first time in about 20minutes. Frenzied to start like your both getting out the last few bits of passion, but by the time you break apart & he tucks your hair away from your face, it’s sweet & a kiss not from a famous party boy but if a loving caring fiancé.

“I promise you DiCaprio didn’t get that service baby” you eventually say as you sigh & wrap your arms around him. Holding Dieter after sex has always been your thing, even when you were just fuck buddies & he’s never pushed you back ever.

“I mean I wouldn’t have been angry if he had. He’d be jealous he didn’t get you all the time…”

“I’m also to old for him” you snigger “what he gets…”

“Isn’t you darling. He can have all those models & wannabes, but he wishes he had someone like you baby. His loss my gain” Dieter says this while peppering your neck with kisses before slowly taking you off the dresser. “You were something else just then, I could have gone on for much longer, but I just couldn’t hold back, I needed to let go baby”

“I’m not complaining baby, my body shook in ways I forgot it could” you say as you walk over to the sink to clean yourself up. There’s no shower in this dressing room at the studio. You throw Dieter a cloth too. “I know it can’t always be like that baby, I think we were just in the mood.”

“Why can’t it?” Dieter asked as he finishes his own clean up & finds his clothes. “I want you to always have a fantastic orgasm baby, I want your body to move like that, & tremble each time we fuck”

“Is that a promise Dieter?” You say as you work out where your normal non interview clothes are & start to get dressed too.

“Well let’s get on this plane to London & see if the altitude makes you ever sexier baby” Dieter says.

“Dieter, I’m not sure if anything is going to match that ever, watching our reflections & getting lost in a moment was just so intoxicating” you say as you lick your lips & finish putting your clothes on.

“You liked it?”

“No” you wrap your arms around him “I loved it.”

“Good girl, my very good girl…” Dieter gets lost in your eyes seeing the genuine glimmer behind them that filling with more desire. His lips taste delicious as you both just can’t control yourself, as you both are showing such love & lust for each other. “Maybe we can get a later flight to London…” he raises an eyebrow.

“That’s not very professional baby” you say as your lips part before colliding passionately again.

“It may not be, but it wouldn’t be the best image if we break the on plane toilet from having too much sex would it?” The glint in his eyes as he clicks the door to unlock it, ready to walk you out of the studio complex to take you to more pleasure before you both hop on that flight. You both need this desire out of your system in the best way possible. An afternoon of hotel sex might just keep you both in check until your plane lands on the other side of the Atlantic.

[janumun]

We appreciate a petite ALL body appreciating King in this house. 🥰

[littleeyesofpallas]

when i'm stumbling around the wilderness of my multiversal purgatory and isekai'd classical philosophers start crawling out of the underbrush to pick fights with me

[why-i-love-comics]

Unstoppable Doom Patrol #1 - "Degenerates One & All" (2023)

written by Dennis Culver art by Chris Burnham & Brian Reber

[shrutithemisfit]

Kory, Gar and The Doom Patrol Part 2

The nicknames 😅

Vic careful!!! Kory just punched you. Do you want to feel her whole power set on you?

Be grateful Cliff saved you. 😂

Vic and Gar team up. 🐯🤖

Cliff not now!!! 🤦‍♀️😄

Protective Mama 💜

[dailydccomics]

life goals: never once take your own death seriously

[ayellowbirds]

On behalf of the entire Qeșeþ System, I would like to take this opportunity to say that Beast Girl is now our daughter and we will protect her at all costs.