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jaebeomsbitch · 6 months

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The Princess and Eggplant (E.M.)

Summary: Your boyfriend happens to be a foot taller than you...or Eddie is afraid to stick it all the way in, afraid to hurt you

Warnings: Minors DNI, size kink, pure smut

Pairings: Boyfriend!Eddie x Girlfriend!Reader

A/N: watching Sex and the City and couldn’t stop thinking about the size difference between Carrie and Aidan. As a 5'1 they/them I'm drooling. Literally finished this a while ago but couldn't find a good gif, I'm gonna start making my own banners

Like Eddie holding you up, your thighs wrapped around his waist, his big hands on your ass. His tongue in your mouth as he kisses you more and more aggressively until you can’t breath and your head is spinning. The way he manhandles you, impaling his thick cock inside you as he grits his teeth trying to control himself from being too rough. But his cock only fits half way and you’re clinging onto his shoulders moaning like a ghost in a haunted house.

You heave for air as his cock knocks the wind out of you. He lays you out on the bed, your hair fanning out as he yanks you to the edge of the bed.

“Fuck sweetheart” he groans looking at the way his cock disappears inside of you. His neck straining as he holds himself back.

“More Eddie, fuck give me more” you gasp, your nails digging into his back.

“S-shit baby, don’t wanna hurt you” he grunts, slowly pulling out and back halfway in. As he refuses to go deeper, his eyes already rolling back as your tight velvet walls grip onto him.

“Please Eddie” you whine, pressing the heels of your feet into his ass forcing him deeper into you. Your jaw slacks as you’re stretched open by your boyfriend.

“S-shit s-so fucking big” you moan pressing your chest into his.

“F-fuck you’re gonna kill me” he groans voice higher pitched then normal. He hisses, teeth clenched tightly as he tries to remain still. However you don’t give him the chance, you dig your feet deeper into his pale ass. Pushing him inch by inch slowly into you until his hips are flush with your ass.

Eddie knows that he needs to be the one to slow down, but it's hard when you feel this good - especially when you're moaning like that. He hasn’t even moved and yet you’re already cock drunk. You’re drooling and moaning incoherently as Eddie’s cock fits like a puzzle piece inside you, nice and deep.your pussy struggles to accommodate the stretch. Your walls pulse around him almost like it’s trying to push Eddie out.

His arms shake as he shallowly thrusts into you, little grunts leaving his lips.

“Fuck Princess, so fucking tight” he whines.

“S-shit it’s like you’re fucking choking my cock” he grunts out, looking at the slight bulge in your lower stomach every time he slides back in. The sight is enough to make him cum right then and there.

“F-fuck fuck fuck ohhhh fuck” you moan underneath him trying to grind into him but his grip on your hips tightens. You know he’s gonna leave bruises on you but you fucking love it. Love that he’s practically whimpering “princess” under his breath like a broken record, like he needs to burn the feeling and imagine in his head.

“More, Eddie please-” you whine, your pussy pulsing around him desperately trying to drag him back in. He shakes his head vehemently, his jaw tight as he grinds his teeth. No girl could ever take his full cock before and much less someone so petite.

“So fucking perfect Princess. Your pussy’s taking me so fucking good. Fucking stretching out to fit my cock baby” he grunts out starting to lose his reserve. His hips move slightly faster as he feels the burn deep in his gut.

“Made f’you Eds” you nod, eyebrows pinched together as he pulls the rubber band tighter. You flex your stomach trying to keep it together. Your moans getting louder as his his resolve starts to slack more and more.

It isn’t long until he’s snapping his hips into yours looking like a man possessed. He’s fucking feral, hair wild, pupils blown out, neck flexed. His whole body is tense as he pounds into you fast and hard completely breaking you down.

You’re more than cock drunk at this point. Babbling gibberish, writhing under him, pulling at the sheets, your eyes closed shut as you’re in your own little world taking Eddie’s thick cock.

“Jesus fucking Christ” Eddie moans at the sight of you. Most girls would’ve cried in pain, he always needed at least an hour of stretching and foreplay to get half way in and yet here you are taking it.

“M’gonna cum!” You cry, stomach flexing harder, your muscles tightening almost painfully.

“Fuck- cum on my cock, Princess,” he pants, his balls slapping into your ass, hand pressing into your stomach feeling the bulge of his cock.

“Ohh fuck- fuck- fuckkk fuckkk” you all but scream as you let go. You tremble under Eddie’s body, face contorted, jaw slacked, drool dripping down your chin. It’s like you’re high and drunk at the same time.

“That’s it Princess milk my fucking cock. Taking me so well, begging for my fucking cum” he grunts. His eyes rolling back as he clenched his jaw and comes hard. Thick white ropes paint your velvet walls already dripping down to your ass. Your pussy too small to accommodate both his cock and cum.

“Shit” he heaves, slowly pulling out not trying to hurt you further.

“I’m not gonna be able to walk am I?” You groan as he nuzzles into your neck.

He chuckles,”probably not.”

“You’re the worst” you mumble lightly nipping his bottom lip.

“Not what you were yelling two seconds ago” he murmurs against your lips. That’s dimpled grin on his face as he presses for a kiss and another and another.

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sweetbuckybarnes · 4 months

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Who is This? - Bucky x Reader

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky had a wife during the 40s, she was left heartbroken after the telegram arrived (missing, presumed dead). It's surprising when 80 years later, she was working behind a bar in Madripoor of all places!

Bucky followed Sam and Zemo into a loud bar, he immediately wanted to turn around and go home, why had Zemo demanded he go back to being the Winter Soldier (even if it was one night)?

The sound of heavy drums and guitars also deafened his hearing, a song he had come to learn was The Wild Boy by a band called Duran Duran. A few bartenders and waitresses were walking around, there was only one who stuck out to him - a dark-haired young woman who reminded him too much of his departed wife.

His heart breaks even more, thinking of the woman he had left behind, his girl. The love of his life. Bucky doesn't think he will ever 'get over' her.

The way the young woman walked, carrying a tray of empty glasses (before being tossed an empty bottle by a patron), was so similar to the way his girl walked in the hole-in-the-wall diner she worked in.

She wasn't quick enough to duck under the bar before they got to the door leading upstairs (which was coincidentally next to the bar), Zemo was talking to the bouncer. "Excuse me, gentlemen," the young woman said, squeezing between the back of Zemo and the front of Bucky. Which is when he got a good look at her face.

There she was.

His girl. His wife.

He couldn't even say anything to her, as he was taken upstairs and away from his girl. He could only hope he would be allowed back in at the end of the night to see her.

Y/N Barnes made her way behind the bar, glancing up at the TV where the Kansas City Chiefs were currently playing the Buffalo Bills at Arrowhead Stadium, then down at her phone which showed the live score of the Dodgers game against the San Francisco Giants.

She had been a long-time Dodgers girl, even after she found out they had moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles.

"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Yasmine asked, pushing a dry Martini in front of a 26-year-old woman.

Y/N looked up from the glasses she was putting in the dishwasher. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"One of the men who went upstairs. The way he was looking at you," Yasmine fans her hand for dramatic effect. "I would drop my panties for him in a millisecond."

"Like you don't do that every night."

Yasmine rolled her eyes and served the next half-drunk who had come to the bar.

"Don't listen to her," Anastasia told her, rolling her eyes as Yasmine flirted with her current flavour of the week.

"It's not often I do, darling," Y/N replied, fiddling with Anastasia's curls for a second, before spotting a patron. "What can I get for you, darling?"

He hung off the bar, obviously far too drunk to understand what was going on. "Another beer and your phone number," he slurred.

She shook her head, reaching over and grabbing him another beer. As far as the boss of the bar (whoever that was) was concerned unless they were unconscious- why should you stop serving them? Y/N thought it wasn't right, but no matter how often she voiced this - she was shut down.

She set the beer in front of him and then went to the register to add it to his bill (good thing she currently has his credit card behind the bar).

"Oi, sweet cheeks!" He calls, but Y/N doesn't pay attention looking over at Yasmine and Anastasia with a raised eyebrow. "Sweet cheeks! I asked for your number."

Y/N replied by simply raising her hand proudly displaying her engagement and wedding rings to the drunk. It was only a small diamond (given Bucky worked on the docks before he was deployed), and the plain band she inherited from her great-grandmother.

"What's the matter with that 'un?" He hiccups. "He got you costume jewellery or somethin'?"

Y/N shook her head. "I'm going into the back for a moment," she tells Aidan.

Little did the drunk patron know, all those years ago, this was the date she was handed the telegraph - putting in such blunt words. Her James was missing, they presumed him to be dead. It breaks her heart that they never got to have a proper funeral.

"You alright, honey?" Elizabeth (another one of the waitresses) asked, she had been outside on her break. Elizabeth was the only one who knew her true age and about her James.

"It's the day I found out James was missing," Y/N said, before bursting into more tears.

Elizabeth wrapped Y/N up in a hug, everyone oblivious to the fact that Y/N's presumed dead husband was now running through the bar, flocked by Sam and Zemo, and into the alley behind the bar.

When Bucky was sure Zemo, Sam and Sharon were asleep, he slipped out of the safe house and into the night - determined to find out if the woman he saw in the bar was that of his (presumably? should be?) dead wife.

He eventually made his way to the front door of the bar, the bouncers had long since gone home. He could see lights on in the building and just about make out words being spoken thanks to the Super Soldier serum running through his veins.

He grasped the handle and gave it a push, the door hadn't been locked, as it gave beneath the slight push.

He could see three young women sitting on the bar, a man who was counting the money from the register and another man who was dancing.

The young woman sitting closest to the bar, had golden curls hanging around her head. "Mark, you didn't lock the door!"

The man dancing, Mark, looked over at Bucky, eyes widening when he saw the size of Bucky. "I say we just serve him, then lock the door behind him."

As the bartenders and waitress argued amongst themselves, Bucky's eyes never left the woman in the middle. It looked as if she had been crying. "Babydoll?"

The woman stopped giggling, tipping her head back to normal and looked at him, before dropping her glass as tears welled up in her eyes. "James?"

The curly-haired woman gasped, setting her glass down and giving Y/N a push off the bar.

Bucky held his arms out to catch her as her feet landed on the floor. He couldn't stop looking at her big eyes, he'd always loved her big expressive eyes. He always knew how she was feeling by just a look in her eyes.

"James? Is that you?" Her hand came out slowly, and shakily, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing in front of her.

"Hi, babydoll," Bucky smiled, tears starting to fall down his cheeks, a heavy sob held tightly in his chest at the moment in time. As soon as her fingers met his skin, Bucky let out a heavy sigh of relief, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. Y/N's arms dug themselves away from his chest and up around his neck before her hand soon started fiddling with his hair.

The couple stood there for a moment, finally finding their slice of peace. Some came barging into the bar, and the dark-haired woman who had been sitting on the other side of Y/N practically demanded Mark lock the door before the Hounds of Baskerville came in.

Y/N was so happy to finally have her James back in her arms, but there was a whirling sound she couldn't let go. "What's that noise?"

Bucky looked from his wife to his arm and back to his bride. "I'll explain everything to you later, but... I lost my arm, and I now have a prosthetic one," he tells her, letting go of her for a moment so he could take his glove off and show her the black and gold Vibranium one he had made.

"Ok, James. It's a good thing you gave me this," she reached beneath her top and pulled a ring out from beneath, hanging from a chain. "Before you were deployed."

Bucky smiled, cupping her face so he could kiss her. Bucky pulled away chuckling a little. "Babydoll, will you please put my ring back on?"

She reached behind her to unclasp the chain, and slid Bucky's band off, "if it doesn't fit we'll get it resized."

"I don't care what size it is, as long as you put my ring back where it belongs," Bucky almost growled, a piece of him falling back into place with the ring back on his finger.

The next morning - Sam, Zemo and Sharon came into the living room, seeing Bucky sleeping on the sofa (Sam was expecting this, after being told by Steve), however, there was a lump lying next to Bucky they didn't recognise.

Sam slowly makes his way over, gently easing down the thick blanket lying over Bucky and the lump.

Lying there, practically on top of the 'bionic staring machine' was a young woman.

"Did he somehow pick up a girl?" Sam whispered. Sam and Sharon were trying to be quiet - however, Zemo (who didn't care) started clattering around the kitchen, causing Bucky to wake up in a start, which then caused the young woman to look up with tired owl-like eyes.

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.

Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"

Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."

#bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #sam wilson #sharon carter #baron zemo #takes place in the falcon and the winter soldier #this had been going around in my head for DAYS!!!#1k #2k

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agentandreastark · 1 year

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i saw your 18 fic with aidan and was wondering if you could do something where aidan just really likes the readers thighs, like not even in a sexual way, just 'omg so soft' and he like, traces her stretch marks when she wears shorts, really just fluff! you dont have to if you don't want to, thanks! :)

Oh yeah, sure! I'm sorry I wasn't able to reply before cause currently, school's been hectic. And I'm probably having the worst writers block ever. So this isn't my best work but u hope you like it!

My favourite part of you

Aidan gallagher X f!reader

Fluff

You are insecure about your thigh, but then Aidan finds out.

After a long day of school, music was your place to go. Normally, it would have been your 6-month boyfriend, Aidan, but he was away for work. And so here you were in the kitchen cooking Pasta for lunch as you swayed your body to the music, singing along with the artist and occasionally even acting as though you were in the music video.

'Thank god I'm home alone,' you thought as you drained the pasta and put it into a bowl to make the roux. Suddenly, arms wrapped around your waist, causing you to yelp and kick. Soon, you were set on the counter and face to face with the person you expected to see the least. "Aidan!" You smiled widely and put your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. "I missed you so much," you mumbled into his shoulder before pulling away and giving him a peck on the lips.

"So much for missing me cause, ouch." He remarked, rubbing his knee where you initially kicked him, causing you to sheepishly smile. "You could've warned me." You jumped off the counter. Aidan smiled. "I think the world's going to end! You? MY GIRLFRIEND? Wearing shorts?!" He gasped dramatically, putting a hand to his chest. Your smile immediately dropped as you looked down. This was terrible. Oh god, no.

You were always insecure about your thighs. They were so big and had stretch marks on them. Which was not something often seen as beautiful in this society.

'What if Aidan feels the same way?' And so you did the first thing that came to mind. You took your dad's apron -which itself was big enough to cover part of your thighs - and wrapped it around yourself.

"Hey, hey. What are you doing?" He looked at you wide eyed.

"Doing what?" You asked turning around to take the flour.

"That." He pointed to the apron and continued. "Covering yourself up? Are you uncomfortable with me? I totally understand, and I do respect-"

"No, Aidan, no, I'm not uncomfortable with you. Of course not, " you turned keeping the flour on the shelf.

"Then -" He sighed, realising what the issue was "Love please don't tell me you're insecure." You stayed silent for a while. Aidan then walked behind you and untied the knot of the apron and took it off you. He picked you up by the waist, setting you down on the counter, "What exactly are you insecure of darling? This?" He touched your thigh softly. "This is something you shouldn't be insecure of love. They are so soft." he smiles widely, looking at you with loving eyes." Besides, women have bigger thighs so that they can carry a life in them, and when they do, it might cause their legs to collapse. We dont want that, right? So instead, their tighs support them. " You nodded slowly, looking back at him." So you don't find my stretch marks disgusting?" You asked softly, waiting for his answer. In your previous relationship, your ex had always told you to cover up because he couldn't bear seeing your stretch marks. "Of course not, darling. Why would they? They remind me of the sea shore, so very pretty." He traced them, looking mesmerised. God, this boy was only making you fall for him even harder. He bent down and kissed every mark, making you laugh since it was ticklish. "You're thighs are my favourite part now," He picked up, causing you to squeal. "Put me down, Gallagher!" He laughed as he kissed your forehead. "Nope." "Why?" You said, kicking your legs in the air. "Cause I want the whole world to see just how beautiful you are." And with that, he walked out of the door with you in his arms.

#fyp #f!reader #angst #fluff #in love #aidan gallagher #thigh #insecure #you're perfect #five hargreaves fluff #aidan gallagher x reader #aidan gallagherX you

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bullet-prooflove · 10 months

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Grief!Series Part Three: Legacy - Bishop Losa x Reader

Tagging: @witches-unruly-heart @anime-weeb-4-life @keyweegirlie @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @the-wandering-lunatic @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @multifandomloversworld @est1887 @genius2050 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @nessamc @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @lyly00 @oureternalbond @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @trublu2u

You’re drained by the time you make it back to the house, the numbness is setting in along with the exhaustion that comes with a catastrophic emotional event. Your head is too busy, there’s too much to process and right now you can’t face it.

Bishop sees it in your mannerisms. The way your shoulders sink, the lethargy in your movements. He remembers the days that he could barely get himself out of bed in the wake of Aiden’s death.

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks you and you shrug your shoulders because you’re too wrung out to make any decision, no matter how small it is.

“Go sit down.” He tells you, gesturing at the couch. “I’ll make us some tea.”

When he returns he finds you curled up in the furthest corner of the sofa, your eyes closed and your head resting on one of the cushions. He sets the tea down on the coffee table before picking up the soft grey blanket, covered with hundreds of little white stars before draping it over your sleeping form. He takes his time tucking it around you. He picks up his tea and returns to the kitchen, closing the door behind him so that he doesn’t wake you. He sits down at the kitchen table, painted in that bright sunny yellow, his gaze coming to linger on the fridge. He looks at the brightly coloured fridge magnets, ones that he knows some of the kids have bought you and he finds himself smiling.

There’s a couple of drawings done by the children you work with, the schedule for the community centre and that stupid photograph from a couple of weeks ago. The one with the two of you covered in paint from helping Creeper and Nina with the mural outside. He raises to his feet and moves closer to study it, his fingertips playing over the shiny paper. His arm is slung around your shoulders, in his free hand he holds a paintbrush. There’s flecks of orange, yellow and red his beard, he remembers it had taken ages to scrub it out in his bathroom that night. He’s surprised by how happy he looks; he recalls you saying something to make him laugh but he has no idea what it was.

He's felt a lot lighter lately, like he’s finally starting to shed the weight that he’s been carrying around for the past eight years. He can’t pinpoint exactly when that started to happen, but he knows it’s since he’s met you. He feels all those dormant parts of himself starting to come alive. There’s a fire in his belly again, he doesn’t have that sense of dread when the alarm clock goes off. He looks forward to the days ahead, the work he’s doing in the community, the work he’s doing with you.

He returns the picture to its place on the fridge before his gaze snags on something else. He sees his last name on a piece of paper stuck to the surface with a Baby Shark fridge magnet. It’s an invoice for a plaque, a small brass one outlined in darkwood.

The Aidan Losa Children’s Library, the text reads.

There’s an ache in his chest, he feels it deep down in his sternum as he grasps the piece of paper in his fist. His eyes fucking sting as he clutches it to his heart, the air forced out of his lungs. The first sob comes out in a rush, a cathartic exhale of emotion that releases the burden that sits upon his shoulders.

This time the agony is purifying. That darkness, it seems to flood right out of him as the tears roll down his cheeks. He thinks of the joy in Aidan’s face as he tottered after Gruffalo, his hands pressing against the softplay mat as Bishop lay on his stomach urging his son to push himself up. He remembers sitting in that red beanbag, his toddler cradled to his chest as they read The Hungry Caterpillar, Aidan’s tiny hand patting the indigo plum.

He doesn’t know what you’ve done to him but somehow you’ve managed to strip away all of the fucking guilt and heartache and turn it into something beautiful. He wipes at his eyes with his fingertips, drawing in a shaky breath as he stares down at the piece of paper once more.

He's holding his child’s legacy in his hands, and he has no idea how to thank you.

Love Bishop? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#bishop losa x reader #bishop mayans #bishop losa #bishop losa x you #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader

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wilmaslittleflower · 4 months

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snuggles and snow.

notes; hello! First agere fic on here, who’s excited?? I’m working on more but I really enjoyed writing this and hope you enjoy reading it!

warnings; reader thinking wilms mad at them, reader has a brother, use of darling, pretty, baby, ect. think that’s it but if I missed anything, please tell me.

edited; yes.

wc; 1.8k

who; Wilma soot x reader (cg!wilm and little! reader)

“Mama! wook!” you exclaimed to the barely conscious women in the bed next to you as you shoot out of the bed. Running up to the window, pulling open the curtains and squealing in excitement at the white fluff on the ground. Wilma groaned at the added light in the early morning.

“Baby, please close them?” she asks as she placed a pillow over her head.

“buht mama, wou din wook!” You whined as you went back to the bed and tried to pat at the pillow, signaling to her to take it away. “pease wook.” You said as she took the pillow off her face to see you with a slight pout adorning your features.

Wilma took a moment to look at you. She loved you so much. Big or little. Tired or hyper. Sad or happy. She would always love you, no matter what.

Placing a hand on your cheek and rubbing, she smiles at you and nods. “You’re right hun, I’m sorry. Show me what’s going on,” she said as she sat up from her lying position, quickly being dragged by you over to the window. Her eyes widening as she looked at how much there was of-

“Snow!” You exclaimed as you jumped up and down. You quickly let go of Wilma’s hand to press your face up against the glass, giggling at the cold touch of the object. “tan we go ouwsid?” You asks as you wrapped your arms around her and gave her a small pout, trying to make your ask possible.

Wilma smiled down at you as she ran her hand through your hair and kissed your forehead. “Maybe, depends on how cold it is.” And how high the snow is. She’d have to talk to Wil about that and how to get out of here if needed. The snow kept falling and nothing was going to help the driveway from being clear. “Let’s go downstairs and see if Aidan and Wil are awake yeah? If so we can talk to them about it, yeah?”

“Yeah!” You exclaimed as you squirmed out of her embrace and ran to the bedroom door, swinging it open and getting ready to run down the hall and steps, to be stopped by Wilma picking you up and carrying down stairs. “Mommy!” You whined as you hide your face in her neck.

“Baby the last time you did that, you ended up falling down the stairs and hurting yourself. No more ok? We don’t run down steps. Especially in fuzzy socks.” She told you as you nodded into her neck, now suddenly embarrassed at the memory and anxious she was mad.

As she walked down to the living room, the house was eerily quiet which meant they were the only ones awake for the time being. Wilma took you over to the couch and gently sat down with you on her lap.

“Hey, pretty darling, can I see you?” She asked as you snuggled deeper into her neck. “Please, just for a little? Then I can make some breakfast while you watch some tv with your stuffies yeah?” You slowly lifted your head as you looked up at her with furrowed brows and your bottom lip between your teeth. “There’s my pretty baby. I’m not mad ok? I’m just cautious. I don’t want you to get hurt again. I love you.” Wilma said as she kisses your cheek, jaw, forehead, nose, anywhere she could as she held you closer and tighter to her. She poured as much love and affection as she could to each kiss and hug she could, not wanting you to feel like this anymore than you had you.

“I wuv wou too mama. Won do iht again. pwomise!” You told her as you looked at her with a smile.

She smiled back as she held out her pinky, raising a brow at you. “Pinky promise?”

You giggled as you excitedly linked pinkies with her. “Pinky!” Wilma quickly grabbed you , pulled you into her lap and tickled you.

“Ahaha! Mama nooo!” You squirmed as you laughed and squealed as her fingers lightly dug into your sides and tickled.

After some time, Wilma let you go and smiled back at you. “I’m going to start breakfast as we wait for Aidan and Wil ok? Wanna stay here and watch shows or come with me?”

“Ummmm…. tan I say hewe n cowow?” You asked as you played with the blanket that was on the couch.

Wilma nodded as she got up, going over to the bin that was placed by the tv and pulled out a coloring book and some crayons. “Yes you may, darling. What would you want to watch?”

You furrowed your eyes as you thought, yet Wilma knew it was going to be the same answer every time.

“Tangled!” Wilma laughed as you exclaimed with a giggle. She quickly put the movie on as you started coloring, leaving you to your own devices as she went to the kitchen and got started on some pancakes.

Not long after, Wilma heard soft groaning and hushed whispers as she turned around and say Wil carrying a sleepy Aidan into the room.

“They’re in the living room watching tangled if you want to go in there bubs.” Wilma spoke to the boy in her brothers arms, softly smiling as he nodded and nuzzled back into Wil’s neck.

After placing him down on the couch and leaving the two little ones in eye sight, Wil quickly grabbed two sippy’s and filled them.

“Rough night? Or is it too early?” Wilma asked with a small smile as Wil screwed the lids on and placed the juice back in the fridge.

“Couldn’t fall asleep last night sadly, but he’ll be ok. He can take a nap while he waits for breakfast.” Wil said as he walks to the living room again, giving the two their sippy’s and making sure Aidan was ok with where he was.

Wilma smiled at the interaction as she buttered the pancakes and whisked some eggs, knowing that Wil would definitely eat them and whoever else wanted them.

“So, have you seen outside?” Wil asked quietly, making sure not to alarms the two in the other room.

“Yeah, think we’ll be going anywhere today?” Wilma asked as she side eyed him with a curious glance.

Wil scoffed as he shook his head and got to hand made mugs out, one made by you for Wilm and one made by Aidan for Wil thanks to Wilma’s help, and poured some coffee into both. “Absolutely not! I’m not shoveling that drive way and I know you won’t either. Plus the roads are probably impossible to drive through, so I think it’s a stay in and stay warm type day.” He finished as he put cream and sugar into both mugs, the way they both liked it, and gave it to his other half.

“Yeah, kind of happy about it. I get to relax and watch over you three-“

“Haha, so funny.” Wil said sarcastically as he moved over to grab plates and utensils for the food.

“No but seriously though, no work and stuck inside, bingo!” Wilma said as she brought he mug up to her mouth.

“Yeah you say that until those two want to go out in that and have fun and we can’t say no.” Wil said as he looked at the two watching the tv and paying no mind to the siblings.

“I mean we could say no-“

“But we won’t, they need this. You know that juts as much as I do.” Wil said truthfully to the other.

“We need it to.” Wilma said as a response, leaning against the counter and playing with her mug. They both had a rough childhood as well growing up, but they both needed to take care of someone, to prove that they were more than their parents. And they luckily got the best people to help and look after, as well as the little ones helping them.

Wilma got knocked out of her thoughts when she felt a tug on her pant leg, looking down and smiling at you as she leant down to pick you up. Setting you on the counter in front of her, she tucked falling hair behind your ears, making room to see your pretty face.

“What’s wrong love?” Wilma asked softly as she rubbed your hands softly. Even with her rough hands you still loved when she did.

“tan we pway ouwsid n da snow?” You whispered to her, afraid she’d be mad at you for asking again.

Wilma sighed softly as she looked at Wil, who shrugged and gave her the “that’s up to you, I’m fine with it” look. She looked at the floor quickly, trying to make up her mind.

She wanted you to have fun outside but she also didn’t want you sick. But she could prevent that with layers and hot cocoa afterwards.

“Ok, yes you guys can but! after breakfast.” Wilma quickly added as she saw your eyes widen and Aidan pop up from the couch and come running over.

“tan i go toos?” Aidan asked Wil, voice hush but full of energy.

“Yes you may, darling. But like mama said, after breakfast.” Wilbur said to the boy as he quickly nodded and silently asked Wil to pick him up.

“Tan we eats now den? Wan go n pway!” You asked excitedly, squirming on the counter and in Wilm’s arms.

Wilma laughed as she quickly nodded, picking you up and sitting you down at the table. “If you stay here patiently and not rush to eat your food, then yes. And you have to wait for everyone. Ok?” Wilma said as she caressed your cheek with her thumb.

“Otay mama!” You said with a smile as Wil sat Aidan down beside you and told him the same while he helped Wilma dish plates up.

Wil quickly helped his twin as she started plating the fluffy pancakes down as he put some of the bacon on plated who favored it. “This’ll be fun.” He quietly added as he looked over at the two littles, talking to each other about something.

“That’s a given. Maybe we should join?” Wilma smiled softly at the two as she picked up your and her plates and set them down at the table.

“Um, yeah!” Wil said enthusiastically as he did the same for him and Aidan, quickly grabbing both of your sippy’s over and placing hem down in front of you both. The two thanking him in their own ways as Wilm cut up both your and Aidan’s food.

This will be fun.

taglist; @koithelittle @littlesakura-anon @littlerosiesoot @sillylittlekibbie (wanna be added? Send an ask or dm!)

#flower writes #sfw agere #sfw agere! wilma #sfw wilma #cg!wilma #cg!wilbur #little!reader #sfw agere fics #sfw littlespace #sfw age regression #sfw little post

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thedemonlady · 9 months

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And Just Like That… Aidan and I, reback on the same page.

#Carrie Bradshaw #Aidan Shaw #Carrie x Aidan #And Just Like That #AJLT #Sex and the City #SATC #Sarah Jessica Parker #Jhon Corbett #my edit #my gif #I've waited for 10 years and they finally got back together :')

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mytvjunk · 1 year

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And just like that, Carrie Bradshaw reunites with Aidan (for the 3rd time)

#and just like that #sex and the city #carrie bradshaw #carrie x aidan #sarah jessica parker #aidan shaw #john corbett #kim cattrall #samantha jones #mr big #hbo #hbo max #satc #ajlt

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polkadotsocks1993 · 1 year

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Try To Breathe

Joel Miller x OFC

Summary: Lily knew it would happen any day now, but now that it's here, she didn't realize the emotions it would bring for everyone involved.

Warnings: childbirth, implied age gap, violence, canon divergence, PTSD, implied sexual situations

Notes: Hi everyone! This kind of got away from me, but I also wanted a more realistic childbirth scene (because I've had two kids with no meds, I promise it isn't as scary as the TV tells you) but I wanted to give Joel and Ellie something a bit happier. Thank you for all your support! ❤️

She'd thought she had no family left by the time she'd met Joel Miller.

She'd come from Nashville, choosing to escape the Atlanta QZ with her family. Her parents, her seven siblings, and a few people they'd picked up along the way. Lily had been eleven when the world effectively ended; gradually, she'd lost everyone she loved.

Her mother was the first to go; dying from an aggressive brain tumor that they'd only discovered a week after arriving at Boston. Lily had been thirteen then, and it was the first splinter in the slow shattering of her world.

Next came Lily's oldest sister, Emma, who died from hemhorraging in childbirth. Her baby was taken by Emma's husband, and they went north to Maine.

Then, it was Lily's brothers, Timothy and Aidan, who were killed trying to smuggle items out of the QZ. Lily's twin sisters Hannah and Hallie were infected on a supply run. Her remaining brother, Emmett, was killed in a mugging gone wrong inside the QZ. All of them died by the time Lily was twenty.

By the time Lily was twenty-two, she'd watched as her father, the only relative she had left with her, took his last breath. He'd been infected saving her, and the person to put him down had been the man who saved her life: Joel Miller.

Joel and Tess had become whatever semblance of a family Lily had. Her last remaining sibling, her sister Aileen, had left with her husband and a group to go to Cody, Wyoming by that time. After long enough without contact, Lily had just assumed they'd never made it.

---------

Lily had never intended on falling in love with Joel Miller, it happened so slowly that she didn't understand it until Frank, whom she considered one of her closest friends, had pointed it out.

"You look at him like he's your universe, Lily. And he looks at you that way, too."

She didn't think her heart could hold any love after the weight of the grief she carried. Her mother, her father, her brothers and sisters, her baby nephew--all of it hung heavy around her heart like a millstone, threatening to pull her under like a current.

Joel had been her first everything: her first kiss, her first time, the first man she'd allowed herself to be close to. Though he never said it, she knew the grief he carried kept him from being too hopeful. They couldn't afford something as expensive as hope in the nightmare their world had become.

It had all happened one night after Lily had saved Joel's life, shooting at a raider who had nearly shot him when they were smuggling medicine back into the QZ. Joel yelled at her, told her she was foolish for nearly taking a bullet for him, that she should never take risks like that. Lily had shoved him with all her might, her red hair wild in a fiery halo as all the years of pain and rage bubbled to the surface.

"I can't lose you, Joel!" She screamed, "I love you, I can't lose you, I won't lose you! I've lost everything else, you're the one good thing I have left!"

Joel had frozen at her admission, but then the floodgates opened. His lips found hers, and they fell into bed that night. His rough hands found her soft, pale skin, drinking her in like she was a fresh spring and he was a man dying of thirst.

"Are you sure you want this? I can stop. We can stop." Joel had asked, hovering above her. She'd nodded, green eyes locked on Joel.

"Never been so sure about anything, Joel." Lily promised. It was worth the temporary pain of her first time, so many things between them that didn't need to be said.

She'd given him her heart that night, and she'd never looked back, knowing that he might ever reciprocate the depth of love she felt. She'd take whatever she could get with him, even if that just meant sharing a bed.

That was five years ago.

Joel still had a lot of baggage; they all did, really. The grief was a heavy burden to bear, and Joel and Lily both carried their own, forgetting about it as they found each other underneath their threadbare sheets in the tiny apartment they shared.

Joel had started calling Lily his wife, and she never corrected him. She went where he went, despite his protests. They'd worked with Tess, the three of them becoming a unit, a weird semblance of a family. For Lily, it was all she needed, all she dared to hope for in this new world. Joel wasn't a soft man; he was jagged edges and hardness and fury. Lily never minded, knowing that gruff warnings, his rough hands holding her face, his stern commands, they were the way he showed how he cared. Lily never tried to fight for more. She loved Joel for the man he'd become in this new world, long gone were any girlish dreams of a soft man and a happily ever after.

Getting pregnant was not part of the plan. Not something she'd expected.

She and Joel had never discussed children--she had always figured that he didn't want that kind of attachment, and she was too scared to bring it up. It had been a night he'd nearly lost her, a random attack by some thugs who had tried to rough her up but didn't account for Joel being so close behind and recognizing her screams as she fought. He'd had a rage that night like Lily had never seen, until he turned and saw her face, pulling her to him with a crushing force that left her startled.

"We're going home. You're safe now." Joel whispered.

That night, he lost every inhibition he'd had. He'd gripped her hips so hard he left bruises and didn't stop. She'd let him take her, digging her nails into his shoulders and sighing his name with nearly every thrust. It was rough and primal, and Lily had never felt anything like it. He wrapped his fingers in her hair, pulling just hard enough to control her head while he kissed up her neck.

"You. Are. Mine." He growled as he left marks on her neck. Lily sighed his name as she lost all of her thoughts. By the time they were done, neither said anything. That night, he'd whispered that he loved her while he thought she was asleep.

She'd only pretended to be asleep.

------------

She'd suspected something for weeks. Not that she'd had any experience with pregnancy before, aside from Emma's, but every smell made her gag. She'd cried over small things, things that would never normally bother her before. She honestly hadn't cried in years. Then, of course, was the period that never came.

She'd confided in Tess, and Tess had followed her to the doctor and hugged her as the doctor confirmed she was about eight weeks along. She'd made Tess swear not to say anything to Joel. Tess assured her.

Unfortunately for Lily, Tess didn't need to say a word.

Joel was too smart not to suspect anything.

"You gonna tell me, or you gonna keep hiding it?" He asked, his fourth glass of whiskey in hand.

Lily had panicked, wringing her hands and bursting into tears. "Joel, I didn't plan it, I didn't do this on purpose."

"I know." Joel said, taking another sip, "how far along, you think?"

"Doctor said about eight weeks, and that was two weeks ago." Lily replied.

"Something was off, I knew that much. But Lily, two weeks? You didn't tell me for two weeks?" Joel asked, his voice irate.

"I didn't know... I didn't know how to tell you." Lily was sobbing now, all of her unsaid wishes and heartbreak and the sliver of hope cracking through the splintered cracks of her heart and overflowing.

"Joel, I don't expect you to stay. I know we've never talked about any of this, I know you don't want this. I don't--I don't expect you to stick around. I can do this. I'm so scared, but I want this. This is a good thing, and I want to be selfish. I've lost people before, Joel, so if you want to leave, I won't be mad, but I love this baby, and I can't go back." Lily confessed through tears.

Joel surprised her, closing the distance and wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm not leaving you alone. I wouldn't have done that before, I sure as hell won't now." He whispered.

"You never said--you never mentioned--"

"I know, Lily." Joel replied, "But we're here now. Time to make it work."

--------------

Lily was seventeen weeks along when the group agreed to take Ellie out West.

Joel had protested and swore up and down that she wasn't going, Tess did, too. But Lily, with her red hair and temper to match, dug her heels in.

"You said you wouldn't leave me. You're leaving. I'm going with you, whether you like it or not. I never heard from my sister, I'm not letting you two go knowing you might not come back. Worst case scenario, we find Tommy, maybe we find Aileen too. Anything is better than a Fedra QZ." She'd said to Joel, who was so mad he wanted to lock her up and throw away the key.

"It isn't safe out there!" Joel said, "You gonna have that baby on the road?"

"If I have to, yes! But say we take that kid out there, and we find Tommy, and Aileen. Say we find a better place. Do you really want this baby growing up here?"

Joel's jaw tensed. "You're not going go slow us down."

"I know." Lily replied.

"You will listen to me about everything. No questions." Joel snapped.

"I promise." Lily said. She moved toward Joel, taking his hand and placing it on her abdomen.

"Joel, the last twenty years of our lives have been nothing but disaster. What if we can fix this for our baby?" Lily asked.

"You sure you want to do this?" Joel asked.

Lily nodded. With that, Joel turned to Tess.

"Guess we're takin' the kid."

-----------------

Of course, that trip began with tragedy, with Tess getting infected. Lily had screamed, pleaded, fell to her knees. Not Tess. Not the only sister she had left.

"I can't have this baby without you!" Screamed Lily between sobs, "I need you!"

"You can, and you will. Look at me, Lily. Get Ellie out West. Take care of Joel." Tess had told her.

Tess had told Joel to save who he could save, and he promptly drug Ellie and Lily out by the arms as the state building went up in flames.

It was only a few hours later that Ellie looked at Lily, eyes wide.

"You're having a baby?" She asked. Lily nodded.

"Huh. I guess I didn't think he had it in him." Ellie shrugged.

For the first time, Lily laughed. Joel took notice.

-----------------------

After Joel's injury, the three sheltered in a cabin in the woods to nurse him back to health. Lily had acquired some medical knowledge, scouring over books after her family died, and she was able to patch Joel up as best she could. She'd managed to keep him healthy despite the risk of infection, and he had slowly but surely come back. By the time that Joel had gotten well enough to walk around, Lily was due any time. She figured she had about two weeks left until her due date.

"We don't have to stay here, Joel." Lily said, stoking the fire to cook what she'd foraged along with the deer Ellie had hunted the day before.

"Yes, we actually do. That baby is coming any day now, and we're not going on the road." Joel replied.

"I think I have to agree." Ellie said, "You're huge now. You can barely walk."

"You're supposed to be on my side." Lily huffed, "We need to be making time."

"After the baby is born." Joel promised, "It's too dangerous now. Stop asking questions."

Lily grumbled; she knew this was how Joel kept her safe, but she also felt helpless. The last few days had left her utterly exhausted, and she felt off in a way she just couldn't explain. Joel had insisted she eat more, had made her stop and rest. Even Ellie, who normally teased Joel, was in agreement: they wouldn't leave until Lily had the baby.

As it turned out, Joel was right.

------------

Lily woke the next day to a pain in her abdomen.

It wasn't sharp. She could still talk through it, but it was large enough to notice. She tried to go back to sleep, but was awoken ten minutes later by the same annoying pain. She pushed through it while making breakfast, leaning over the wood stove in the cabin. Ellie had noticed, stopping mid-chew to tap Joel on the forearm.

"Everything okay?" Joel asked.

Lily nodded, pretending she wasn't in pain.

"I'm fine, just those Braxton-Hicks contractions." Lily assured him.

"They might be real now, Lily." Said Ellie.

Joel walked over to her, rubbing her back just slightly.

"Keep your strength up. I think it's time. I'm going to get some stuff ready." Joel said.

Lily rolled her eyes, but was secretly thankful that Joel knew more than she did. Her mother had died before she could explain much about childbirth, and Emma's childbirth had ended so badly that Lily had all but blocked it out.

Joel had set to work, boiling water, getting blankets ready, and preparing a space for Lily. He'd been there when his daughter was born, he knew what took place. Lily had some idea from the books she read and from talking to Tess, but she was otherwise clueless.

By lunch time, the contractions were every seven minutes. They were uncomfortable, but she could still move through them. As she walked around the outside of the cabin, Ellie walked with her.

"Do you hope it's a boy, or a girl?" Ellie asked, trying to distract Lily.

"I know it's dumb to say I don't care, but I don't. I never thought I'd have this chance." Lily said, bracing herself against the side of the cabin. She could see Joel's watchful eye, and Ellie rubbed her back.

"I think it would be cool if you had a boy." Ellie said, "I wonder if he'd be as gloomy as Joel?"

Lily laughed, putting her hands on her hips and standing up straight.

"I hope not." Lily said, "But secretly, I'm hoping for a boy, too."

The contractions were starting to come closer now, slowly making Lily wretch from the severity of them. Ellie had timed them, they were starting to come every four minutes instead of every seven. Joel had walked around the cabin with Lily again, stopping as she felt the need to squat as a contraction overtook her.

"I'm sorry you're going through this." Joel said, "I should have been more careful."

"Joel, it was bound to happen." Lily replied, grunting through the contractions that were starting to get stronger, "We were sleeping together pretty often."

"I just forgot what having a baby looks like." Joel said, "Sarah's mom, she got pain medicine pretty quick, but her labor was pretty quick."

"My mom said her labor with Emma was nearly three days." Lily replied, rubbing her back as a contraction took over again, "It's one of the few things I remember. She had all of us at home."

"It's going to get worse before it gets better." Joel told her, "Just remember that."

---------------

By the time evening arrived, contractions were coming every two minutes. Lily was having a hard time keeping focus, so much so that she was starting to groan and growl as the contractions came over her in waves.

Then, the real challenge came as her water finally broke.

For all of the books she'd read, nothing prepared her for how strong the contractions became. No matter how Joel or Ellie tried to help, the contractions had her starting to scream, swaying from side to side and squatting as her instincts took over.

"You're getting close, honey. It won't be much longer." Joel assured her, running fingers through her hair.

The contractions came harder and harder, the pressure of the baby causing Lily to squat to get some relief.

"I can't do this, Joel." Lily cried, "I can't have a baby. I can't do this."

Joel took her by the shoulders, trying to center Lily as she panicked.

"Look at me, Lily. Yes, you can." Joel said, "You're going to have this baby, and you'll be fine."

"I don't want to do this anymore!" Lily screamed as another contraction came.

"You kind of don't have a choice." Ellie said.

Lily had managed to lean over the bed, Joel and Ellie on their side as she swayed.

"I want my mom!" Lily growled, panting as she took off her shirt, the heat becoming oppressive.

Joel and Ellie looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between each other as Lily continued to scream.

Joel placed a cool rag on the back of her neck, speaking to her as softly as he could.

"You're almost there, sweetheart. Let me check and see how close you are." Joel said, helping Lily into the bed. He helped her remove her pants, tossing them aside to take a look. Another contraction hit Lily, this time so strong that she moved nearly all the way up the bed.

"I can't do it anymore." Lily cried.

"Lily, look at me. You're almost done. I can see the baby, it's head is right there. You're gonna need to push." Joel said.

Ellie gripped Lily's hand, breathing with her as she cried.

One more contraction, and Lily began to push.

"You can do it, Lily, come on, keep going. Baby's coming." Joel said. Lily took a breath as Ellie placed a wet rag, cooled with snow, on her forehead and around her neck.

Another contraction, and Lily pushed with all her might.

"Head's out, sweet girl." Joel said.

"Get it out of me. Now." Lily cried.

"Almost there, you're doing good." Joel assured her.

"I can't do it!" Lily screamed as another contraction overtook her.

"You're doing it, Lily, keep pushing." Joel's voice was firm.

One more agonizing push, Lily screaming with all of her might, holding on to Ellie for dear life, and Joel pulled the tiny baby free, laughing incredulously.

"A son, Lily, we have a son!" He all but exclaimed, handing the wriggly, tiny baby to Lily.

"A boy?" Lily looked down and stared at the boy--her son--for the first time.

"Joel, look at him!" Lily cried, "look at our son!"

Joel leaned forward, kissing Lily's forehead.

"You did it, honey. You did it. Look at him." Joel whispered, "He's a tiny thing."

"I've never seen a baby before." Ellie whispered, her eyes locked on the tiny baby in Lily's arms.

Lily was in disbelief. The boy in her arms had the most beautiful dark hair and wide eyes. He looked so much like Joel that it took her back. She cried as her baby boy--their baby boy--cried. She brought him up to nurse, Joel giving her gentle instruction (as he'd said Sarah's mother had nursed too).

Her little boy. Her dark haired little baby. He was there. He was healthy.

As Joel and Ellie helped clean her up, they cut the cord and took the afterbirth out. Lily bled, but from what Lily could tell, it was a normal amount and nothing outrageous. As she laid in bed, nursing her new son, Ellie sat vigilantly at the end, staring constantly.

"Would you like to hold him, Ellie?" Lily asked.

"I've never held a baby." Ellie replied.

Lily leaned forward, handing Ellie the bundle in her arms. She helped Ellie adjust his head, and Ellie looked down, transfixed.

"I always wanted a little brother, never got one." Ellie whispered.

Without thinking twice, Lily said, "Now you have one."

Ellie blinked, Lily smiling slightly as she'd realized what she said.

"Joel said I was cargo." Ellie replied.

"Joel has had a hard life, Ellie." Lily reminded her, "He thinks that if he doesn't get attached it doesn't hurt as much."

Lily sighed, looking at the bundle in Ellie's arms, sleeping peacefully.

"Although now, I know. I know how much I'd hurt if I lost him, and he doesn't have a name yet." Lily whispered.

----------------

Lily left the baby with Ellie and walked outside to the porch. Joel had been sitting out there for over an hour. He was staring straight ahead. He'd washed the blood off of his hands and cleaned up as much as he could.

"What are you doing out here? Get back inside." Joel said.

Lily sat down next to him, taking his hand.

"I wanted to come check on you." Lily said.

"I'm not the one who had a baby." Joel replied.

"You helped. You kept me safe." Lily said, "You brought me my son."

"He's somethin' else, isn't he?" Joel mused, looking down at his hands.

"He looks just like you." Lily laughed.

"Don't say mean things about the baby." Joel said. Lily cracked a smile, swatting his arm.

"Joel Miller, don't joke like that. Your looks got you a hot younger wife."

"Stop that." Joel huffed, trying to pretend to be irritated.

"I couldn't have done this without you. Or without Ellie." Lily said, "I wish my parents could have met him."

"I wish Sarah could have met him." Joel said, so low Lily almost didn't hear.

"I know, baby. I like to think wherever my parents are, wherever my brothers and sisters and Sarah are, they all sent him." Lily said. Joel looked at her, an unfamiliar warmth in his eyes that Lily had never before seen.

"He needs a name." Joel offered.

"I think you should name him." Lily replied

"Why me?" Joel asked.

"Because you're his daddy. And he's going to love you." Lily said.

"There was a book, Sarah loved it, read the cover off. The boy, the main character, his name was Jesse. Sarah said if she ever got a brother, she wanted to name him Jesse."

"Bridge to Terabithia." Lily said, "I read that book, too. It was one of my favorites."

Joel looked at her, his eyes glassy. He took a deep, ragged breath, standing up and helping Lily to her feet.

"Jesse. Jesse Thomas. That's his name." Joel said, matter-of-factly, opening the door to let Lily inside first. The two saw Ellie sitting in the chair, still staring at baby Jesse, sitting next to the fire in a rocking chair.

"He has a name now." Lilly said, sitting next to Ellie to take the sleeping baby.

"What are you going to call him?" Ellie asked.

"Jesse." Said Joel, standing to take a look at the sleeping baby. Lily stood up, motioning for Joel to sit down.

"It's time you sit with your son." Lily said. She handed Jesse to Joel, the baby suddenly looking much smaller in Joel's big frame.

"I never thought I'd do this again." Joel whispered.

Lily leaned down, placing a kiss to Joel's temple. He leaned in slightly, holding Jessie's tiny hand in his own.

"You get some rest, Lily girl, I'll bring him back if he needs you." Joel promised.

Lily went back to the bed, Ellie going with her. Both fell asleep quickly, Lily feeling the events of the last day in every part of her body. Lily slept hard, not even moving, until she heard Jesse start to stir a few hours later. She sat up, looking at a snoring Ellie next to her, and walked into the living room. She leaned against the door frame, watching Joel cradle Jesse in his arms and rock him.

"Guess we should go get your mama now." Joel whispered, "She is something else, you'll see. She loves you so much."

"I love you too, you know." Lily said. Joel startled, momentarily tightening his hold on Jesse.

"I didn't see you there." Joel whispered, "He's starting to get hungry."

"Come sit. Get some rest, Joel." Lily said.

"I want to look at him some more." Joel said. Lily sat on the couch, putting Jesse to her chest to nurse. Joel sat at the end, propping his feet up and watching them.

"Being a daddy looks good on you." Lily whispered, taking Joel's hand in hers.

"I never thought I'd get to do this again." Joel confessed, "Maybe, if we get to Wyoming, and it's safe enough, maybe we could do it again."

Lily smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. "We just had him last night, and you already want another?" She teased.

"I'm gettin' old, Lily-girl. If we're gonna have more, better do it before you're changing my diapers, too."

Lily laughed so deeply that tears streamed out of her eyes. "I'd still do it, I told you, I'd follow you anywhere. But I think it'd be nice, Joel. If it's safe, I want more. This is what I always wanted."

"A baby?" Joel asked.

"No. A family." Lily replied.

"I realize I haven't...I'm probably not what you imagined..." Joel stammered.

"You're my husband, Joel. As far as I'm concerned, I've been Lily Miller since the first time you took me to bed. And I'll be Lily Miller for as long as I live. You guys are my family. This is all I've wanted. I knew what I was getting into with you, but you're a good man, Joel. And you gave me the most beautiful little boy. I hate how scary this world is now, but I have you. And I have him. And we have Ellie, too. This is all I need." Lily said.

Joel rubbed a hand over his face, leaning forward to place a kiss on Jesse's head.

"I'm gonna sleep. You get me if you need me, okay?" Joel asked.

"I promise. Get some sleep, you had a big day too." Lily replied.

Joel fell asleep quickly, making a pallet of blankets on the floor next to the bed.

Lily stayed awake for a while, staring at Jesse and watching Joel and Ellie. It had been a long road to get here, and it had been fraught with trouble.

But as Lily sat cradling her son, she allowed herself to be grateful. From the ashes of grief came something new, and for a moment, she would allow herself to feel happiness. She knew it might not last, she knew that bad things could happen.

But for now, her family slept in this cabin along with her, and in that moment, it was enough.

#Spotify #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x ofc #pedro pascal fanfic #tlou show #the last of us #ellie tlou #tlou joel #canon divergence #joel miller #joel the last of us #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us x reader #tlouedit

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mariacallous · 2 years

Text

We’re fighting a Vietnam redux. It’s 1938 all over again. The Guns of August are around the corner. A new Cold War has begun.

A raft of historical analogies has swirled around Ukraine coverage that purports to explain a war few experts saw coming. Do peacemakers like French President Emmanuel Macron risk being duped like former British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain at Munich? Or is this moment another 1914, and a wider European mobilization lurks around the corner?

The analogies writers apply to Ukraine shape how it’s understood—and how the public thinks the war will end. If this is really akin to World War I, Europe’s rulers should be careful not to escalate in the face of Russian mobilization—the opposite of what Germany announced it would do this year. But if the moment is like the 1938 Munich Agreement, negotiating with Russian President Vladimir Putin will encourage him to take more than just the four oblasts in eastern Ukraine.

Thinking about today through the lens of the past has a long provenance in the corridors of power. American administrations throughout the 20th century used historical analogies to frame the crises they faced, likening them to the Peloponnesian War between Athens and Sparta, the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor, mission creep in Vietnam, the humanitarian disaster in Somalia, the bipolar tensions of a new Cold War—and, of course, everyone’s favorite analogy, appeasement at Munich. Putin himself has deployed historical analogies (including World War II appeasement) to justify the war in Ukraine, and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky has countered with his own.

There’s a reason that historical analogies like these are never in short supply. Analogical thinking is deeply embedded in the world’s cognition—how experts make sense of new situations—in what international relations academic Aidan Hehir calls an “inherent psychological compulsion.” Experts can’t help but think analogically. But because the choice and application of analogies is open to individual biases and errors, their use at the highest levels of policymaking carries serious risks.

For the last several decades, scientists have argued analogies are not just rhetorical devices but cognitive heuristics—mental shortcuts for making sense of the world. Baked into fundamental cognitive processes, heuristics help experts process new information by simplifying its complexity and organizing it according to preexisting mental structures. Without these shortcuts, people wouldn’t be able to function, overwhelmed by the phenomena of day-to-day life.

When people think analogically, they transfer meaning from one thing to another, understanding something present in terms of something past. But as with any shortcut, analogies have a downside. Heuristics distort the underlying phenomena of life, producing cognitive biases, such as the halo effect, confirmation bias, and overconfidence. Outlined by English philosopher Francis Bacon and popularized by psychologist Daniel Kahneman’s Thinking, Fast and Slow, these biases mean experts’ first and often most powerful judgments can be the most misleading. When experts use a historical analogy to understand the present, they risk importing the errors and biases inherent in the shortcut.

Owing to these possible dangers, political scientists and historians have intensely studied the use of historical analogies in foreign-policy decision-making using the “Analogical Explanation” framework. According to the framework, a decision-maker searches for an event in the past (called a “base” or “source”) that appears similar to the current event (called a “target” or “destination”). They then transfer or “map” knowledge of the base to the target, using the former to fill in information missing in the latter. A four-step formula describes the process:

Historical event (base) has property X.

Current event (target) also has property X.

Historical event (base) has property Y.

Current event (target) therefore has property Y.

Property Y in the last step is an inference: something missing in the current event but present in the historical one. Political scientist Yuen Foong Khong, a pioneer of the framework, summarizes this stage: “[I]f two or more events separated in time agree in one respect, then they may also agree in another.” Analogies used this way to allow decision-makers to comprehensively frame a whole situation, helping them define it, weigh its stakes, and assess possible solutions. They guide policymakers toward certain options and away from others.

Historian Barbara Tuchman’s The Guns of August, which emphasizes how great-power miscalculations spiraled into World War I, had a “profound impact” on former U.S. President John F. Kennedy’s decision-making during the Cuban missile crisis. As former U.S. Attorney General Robert Kennedy recalled, his brother was struck by the “stupidity, individual idiosyncrasies, misunderstandings, and personal complexes of inferiority and grandeur” that led the period’s great powers to “tumble into war.” The analogy cautioned the president against taking policy options during the crisis that might provoke escalatory counter-responses from Moscow.

Analogical reasoning suffers from several general problems. The analogy itself may be poorly chosen. The practitioner may have misidentified the analogy’s suitability, perhaps by recalling the most available case—what’s most on his or her mind at that moment or something drawn from personal experience—rather than the one that fits best. In the lead-up to the 2003 invasion of Iraq, then-U.S. President George W. Bush repeatedly and publicly compared then-Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein to Nazi dictator Adolf Hitler, an analogy also deployed by his father and which foreclosed negotiating with the Iraqi dictator. (George W. Bush’s administration later switched analogies to the American occupation of Korea.) Poor analogies convincingly pressed by influential policymakers can dominate the decision-making process, blocking rival understandings and new information that doesn’t fit the analogy. Practitioners may also pick a fitting analogy but reason about it poorly, confusing what’s important in it with what’s superficial or contextual. Leaders with low “cognitive complexity” may suffer from these problems more than others, employing unsophisticated analogies in unsophisticated ways. Unless handled with care, analogies mislead.

In his landmark 1992 study Analogies at War, Khong showed how these errors plagued U.S. policymakers in Vietnam. Former U.S. President Lyndon Johnson weighed the consequences of backing down in Vietnam using the Munich analogy, which likened nonintervention in Vietnam to Chamberlain’s fateful appeasement of Hitler in the Munich Agreement.

But Vietnam was no more analogous to Munich than future cases where U.S. foreign-policy makers used it to understand other dictators, such as Hussein. Hehir has convincingly shown that U.S. foreign-policy makers understood former Serbian President Slobodan Milosevic primarily through the lenses of the Dayton and Munich Agreements, leading to deliberate American bullishness at Rambouillet and the subsequent NATO-led airstrike campaign. Political scientists Rose McDermott and David Houghton likewise document how the Carter administration reviewed many analogies when it faced the Iran hostage crisis before settling on Israel’s successful Entebbe raid, where the Israelis successfully freed a planeload of hostages with minimal casualties. As a result, both former U.S. President Jimmy Carter and former U.S. National Security Advisor Zbigniew Brzezinski, the Entebbe analogy’s main proponent, underestimated the mission’s likelihood of success. In the mid-1990s, U.S. policymakers understood Rwanda through an “Africa” schema of tribal warfare, analogizing it with the failed humanitarian mission in Somalia. Throughout the 20th century, analogies powerfully framed U.S. decision-making—and often led its elites toward poor policy choices.

Historical analogies are particularly tempting in times of ambiguity and uncertainty, such as in the crises above and this current moment. In times like these, experts look for easy certainties that eliminate anxiety and reassure them about the future—what psychologists call “cognitive closure.” Analogies help, making the inconstant appear constant by drawing on the patterns of the past.

As the recent Russian mobilization shows, the war in Ukraine is fraught with unpredictability. Analysts continue to debate its fundamentals: Is it sui generis? Who is winning? What does Putin really want? What caused it, where is it going, and when will it end? If analogical reasoning is an unavoidable human compulsion, it is only natural that experts now look to the past to make sense of the present. Is Ukraine akin to another Munich and Putin to Hitler—and will it lead to another world war? And if not these, which cases should guide us?

History is the school of statesmanship, but its lessons are not all of equal value. Experts should think carefully about which analogies they choose, what lessons they think they provide, and to whom. Analogies promoted in the public sphere can be picked up by those in power—regardless of their accuracy. The competition of politics means sophisticated analogies are as likely to be abused as properly used. Powerful but simple historical analogies that draw Manichean lines of good and evil, like Munich, are especially seductive.

And experts should manage expectations. Extraordinary statecraft requires a level of high cognitive complexity that is probably rare. As historical analogies about Ukraine accumulate, experts should remember analogical reasoning’s broad limitations, underscored by this line from its most prominent recent examiner: “All historical analogies are suspect.”

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