Fanfiction Fandoms - Arcane, Brooklyn Nine Nine, Call of Duty, Criminal Minds, [WIP] Date Everything, Harry Potter, Marvel, The Dragon Prince / King, The Hobbit / Lord of the Rings, Twilight and Shadowhunters.
Nicholas Lupin-Black is the adopted son of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, and, among his many hardships while being at Hogwarts, he has to learn how to keep his lycanthropy secret on the down low, while also falling in love with his best friend - George Weasley. Amongst all of his normal(ish) teenage problems, Nicholas has to learn how to live throughout a war, and finally meet his father, all while simply trying to get through his school years.
ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴏꜱᴜʀᴇ - ᴀ ᴘɪᴇᴛʀᴏ ᴍᴀxɪᴍᴏꜰꜰ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄ - ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
Cecelia Winslow, a twenty-five year old S.H.I.E.L.D agent, fights closely with the Avengers and with one small mistake, she ends up meeting the love of her life in a life or death situation. Though, with old memories coming back up due to a certain Maximoff twin, it gets difficult to save the world all the while managing her anxiety., alongside trying to deal with a Speedster's attractive looks and relentless flirtations.
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A/n: Yes, this is the devastating idea that I had and I really hope I was able to show off how much the idea broke me (that or I might just have major baby fever and be sad as fuck at the same time)
“What…?” Sam uttered under his breath, looking down at his phone and looking at the multiple TikToks he was sent by you, as you claimed that you were ‘laughing your head off’, ‘falling off the chair’ or ‘can’t breathe’ at how funny they were.
Sam found the first and second one funny. Then came the third, and fourth, and fifth and he was starting to see a pattern.
It wasn’t some sort of subtle pattern, no, no. It was babies. Funny videos of babies. Some of them weren’t even funny —despite your claim of them being hilarious— they were just cute.
“What’s up?” Joaquin asked, not looking away from what he was doing.
Sam took a few seconds to tear his eyes away from his phone, even when he did he had to take a double and triple look back at the video playing. “Uh, <<Reader>>…”
Joaquin’s eyes narrowed as he looked over at Sam. “They okay?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Sam said swiftly once he realised his tone sounded much too concern for what was going on. “They’ve been sending me these videos all day.”
Sam held up his phone to show Joaquin, but was swift to turn it back around when he didn’t show the same type of confusion Sam had. Instead, Joaquin’s face contorted into even more puzzlement as he glanced back up at Sam.
“They’ve been sending me baby videos all day.” Sam said with an almost mutter-like voice. “Then, at home they’ve showing them to me. I can hear these types of videos playing anytime they’re on TikTok, too.”
“Oh.” Was all Joaquin came out with.
Sam was swift to crane his head back at his mentee, looking as if he’d been betrayed. “Torres, what does it mean?”
“Woah, man, I don’t know.” He said almost as quick as Sam spoke, his hands held up in mock surrender.
Sam exhaled slowly, hunching over as he hunched over the messages that had been sent throughout the day, as if there was going to be some secret message in them that would give him the answers that he needed.
“Sam.” Joaquin said with a nervous laugh. “I’m sure it’s fine, you’ll send yourself into an early grave with all this stress.”
“Man, you’d be this stressed if your partner kept looking at baby stuff.” Sam said with a shake of his head, his free hand rubbing his face.
This time Joaquin sighed, then he rolled his chair over until he was face to face with Sam. “You think they want kids?”
Sam hesitated, did you want kids? The two of you had talked about it what felt like eons ago, but came to the conclusion that it was far from the right time to have any. Being an Avenger came with little free time, but you could have made it work, had it not been for the Sokovia accords, being on the run, Thanos’ army and the blip.
In theory, now was the perfect time to try for a family. Sam was settling into his role as Captain America, there were no world-ending events on their way, you were no longer even in that field of work. Your lives had come to a calm still, in some sort of way.
Were you thinking about it? Were the videos a subtle nudge for Sam to get on the same page?
“Man, I have no idea.” Joaquin was sure that he had never heard Sam sound so defeated. “We talked about it years ago, but there was one crisis after another… I figured the idea fizzled out, didn’t become priority.”
“Because of your job?” Joaquin asked.
“Exactly.” Sam said with a small nod. “We both had chaotic lives, there was no time. Now there could be, but I haven’t thought about it all that much.”
Joaquin took a few seconds to ask the next question, his eyes lingering on Sam. “…but you’ve thought of it?”
Sam exhaled slowly. “…Yeah.”
“Then talk to <<Reader>>.” Joaquin quickly said, patting Sam’s shoulder in some sort of comforting way that both of them had done countless times. “You’re thinking about all of this just by assuming. Talk to them. Talk it out, or whatever couples do.”
Sam scoffed out an amused sound. “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.”
“I’m busy.” Joaquin rolled his eyes, scooting back over to his desk.
“Uh-huh.” Sam said unconvinced, shaking his head. “Or you have no game.”
.
. .
. . .
"Baby, I'm home!" Sam called out once the door was shut behind him, locking it as he looked over his shoulder, trying to crane his head enough to try and see where you were from where he was.
You poked your head out from the corridor and grinned, before disappearing back into the living room. Sam heard the shuffling, but you soon emerged again, leaning against the doorframe.
"Hey, how was your day?" You asked.
He walked further in, taking off his jacket to hang it up. "It was fine, slow. Me and Torres are just following up on some leads, but they're seeming like deadends."
You hummed, tilting your head to the side. "Need some help?"
"Oh no." He laughed, turning to face you, walking up to you until his hands met your waist and he pulled you closer. Your hands instinctively rested on his chest. "You're out of this work, remember? You keep asking about help, I'm gonna think you wanna get back in."
You laughed out loudly, shaking your head quickly. "Nah, I'm perfectly happy trying to find normal work for once in my life."
He hummed quietly, leaning down to capture your lips in a quick kiss. You chuckled out and rested your forehead against his for a few seconds before you pulled away.
"How's Joaquin doing? Recovering? Getting back into the swing of things?" You asked, remembering how Joaquin was meant to be easing into his work again after his accident over the Indian Ocean.
Sam nodded slowly with your questioned. "He's doing good, he's determined to get back out there. That's no surprise. I keep telling him to take it slow, he needs the reminder. Reminds me of you."
"Hah!" You shook your head. "I think I was much worse than Jaoquin."
"Oh, most definitely, he's never hidden injuries from me."
You rolled your eyes at the call-back, looking away for a second before your eyes landed back on the man before you. "Context is important there, Samuel. There was no way I was going to bring up a minor injury when we were on the run."
He scoffed, and this time he had rolled his eyes at you. "You had cut open your leg when we jumped a fence, you probably even made it worse when you waited almost an hour to tell me."
"And, tell me, how am I meant to tell you after all that that I was bleeding out?"
"Oh, I don't know, by maybe telling me?"
You tutted, lightly pushing him away so you could slink off into the living room. Sam didn't follow. Instead, Sam followed his own routine, one that was established when he came home. You didn't get in his way.
You found yourself back hunched over your laptop, a thumb to your mouth and you chewed on your nail. Your eyes scanned over the list of volunteer work that you could do, having found out long ago it was better for you to do something similar than actually finding work. Being an Avenger and having to work in retail, or customer service was a strange experience.
You once tried to find volunteer work similar to what Sam had done before he got involved with the Avengers, but the stories people had told hit too close to home and you found yourself spiralling one too many times that you would have liked to have admitted.
You sighed and quickly shut your laptop, putting it off to the side as you stood up and moved to kitchen.
Problem for another day.
You turned the oven on a higher temperature, now that Sam was home. You leaned against the counter after having set a timer, then moved around to set up the table for dinner.
"I was about to do that." Sam said when he walked in, kissing your cheek, getting two glasses for you the both of you.
You shrugged your shoulders and chuckled. "Well, I beat you to it."
"What drink?"
"Just water." You hummed quietly.
There was a few seconds of silence, nothing different to what you were expecting. You and Sam had been together for years now, and you found no need to fill the silence with pointless chatter. There was no need for that between you and Sam.
You were perfectly content. Sam wasn't.
He was stuck thinking about how he was going to bring up the nagging question that lingered in his mind all day. His eyes kept glancing back over at where you were moving around in the kitchen, the words lingering on the tip of his tongue that he was just too scared to say aloud.
He remembered the way that he was on board with having kids with you all those years ago, about the way he thought about how your lives would have been if the two of you had gone through with it. He thought about how many kids you would have, if they were boys or girls, how you would decide the name or names, how the room would look, how the two of you would have handled it brilliantly because you were a team and always did better together.
He forced himself to stop thinking about it when your lives were turned up down, locking the idea up and putting away for when he needed hope. Even then, the hope made his heart ache.
He wondered if it was the same for you, if you had done the same because you two stopped talking about it entirely when you and him went on the run years ago.
He decided to just spit it out eventually.
"Are you thinking about having kids again?"
You stopped in your tracks, your heart skipping a beat. You slowly turned around to face him, swallowing quietly. "Why do you ask?"
Sam shrugged his shoulders non-committedly, crossing his arms over his chest as he forced his heart to slow down to a normal rate. "Just the videos you've been sending me all day, and that you watch when ever you open any sort of social media."
You scratched the back of your neck, exhaling slowly. Maybe you shouldn't have thought that Sam would have found the videos as funny as you were now, and you should have known that he would have picked up on what you were thinking.
"Suppose I am." You muttered, reluctantly looking at him again. "Does that bother you?"
He shook his head slowly, but the hesitance to do so made you wonder if he had to think about it quickly.
He didn't say anything. Neither did you.
"You upset?" You questioned after a few, long seconds.
He almost looked offended at the question, his expression was quick to fix itself, no longer looking indifferent.
“No.” He said quickly, shaking his head as he took a step closer to you, his arms falling from the way they were cross over his chest. "No, no, I'm not upset. I'm... thinking. I didn't think this was something you were still thinking about, that it was something either of us were thinking of."
This time you shrugged your shoulders lightly. "I didn't know that I was thinking about it as much as I was, maybe it lingered from before... I don't know."
He closed the gap between you, resting his hands on your waist, which caused you to look up at him.
He swallowed hard. "Do you want kids?"
You hesitated.
"Yeah."
He hesitated too.
"Me too."
You weren't sure why, but you felt the tears prickle in your eyes. You inhaled slowly, then nodded your head just as slow.
"Why are you crying?" He asked faintly, a hand moving to cup your face, thumb at the ready to wipe away any stray tears.
You tutted and almost rolled your eyes at him. "I'm not crying."
"Your eyes are watering." He said softly, voice overbearingly soft that it was really not helping the state you were in.
"I dunno, man." You grumbled, pouting exaggeratedly to try and bring some light-heartedness to the rather serious topic that was just had.
Sam, despite the seriousness in his voice moments before, let out a faint chuckle and wrapped his arms around you —one just below your neck and the other lower down your back.
He only pulled away after a few moments, cupping your chin to make you look at him once again. "Listen, we'll eat and clear up, then we'll talk about it. Yeah?"
You appreciated the notion, Sam allowing you some —and him— additional time to think out what you wanted to say. It was a ritual that you and he found yourselves doing frequently, especially when it came to deeper or more serious conservations. After all, what help were either of you going to be unless you knew what you were going to say?
You nodded slowly, clearing your throat quietly. "Yeah."
.
. .
. . .
Sam’s head turned towards the sound of the front door unlocking, opening and then closing again. His expression contorted into one of confusion.
“You’re home early.” He stated, poking his head through the hallway to see you.
You groaned, shaking your head and you faced him, dropping a single shopping bag on the floor. “I couldn’t find half the shit I was looking for.”
He hummed quietly, picking up the bag that you had placed down without a second thought.
“I was about to do that.” You said with a huff of laughter.
He shrugged his shoulders lightly. “Well I beat you to it.”
You followed him into the kitchen, where he placed the bag onto the table, already starting to take the contents out of it. It didn't have much, you hadn't gone for an essentials shop, after all. You had small bits and bobs that were needed because you had run low throughout the week, like milk or bread, ect:
Then, he pulled out the pregnancy test.
It hadn't been the first one you had gotten since the two of you decided to start trying, and you weren't sure it was going to be your last one. Sam didn't say anything, but he pushed it towards you before his hands went back into the bag.
You grabbed the test and held it in your hands for a few seconds, exhaling slowly as you wondered if this time would be the time it would come out positive.
"You don't have to take it now." Sam said, placing his hand on your arm for a few seconds. "If it's taking too much from you, that is."
You shook your head and tried to give him a reassuring smile, but you knew that he would be able to see through it like he usually did. "No, I'll take it in a moment. I just... I dunno, I don't want to get my hopes up? Or maybe I should because what if it's worth it to get them up?"
You stopped speaking with another sigh and a shrug of your shoulders. Sam only kissed the top of your head and cupped your cheek so that he could stroke it with his thumb.
This time the smile that was on your face wasn't just one to reassure him, and he could only reciprocate it towards your way.
"Whatever it is," He started softly. "We'll get through it the same way we get through everything else, okay?"
"Okay." You responded softly, taking a hand to place on his wrist for a few seconds, before you tilted your head to kiss his palm.
The two do you stayed like that for a few seconds, before Sam leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. Only then did the two of you fall into a routine of putting away the little shopping you had done.
You tried to tell him that he didn’t have to help you out, it was one of the few times he was home in the middle of the day, and you were trying to convince him to relax —he didn’t listen.
As you reached for the last two items, your phone started ringing. You sighed and pulled out your phone from your back pocket, looking at it with a confused expression.
Bucky.
Bucky never called, he never really texted you either.
“It’s Bucky.” You said slowly, stepping away as you held the phone to your ear. “Hey?”
“Hey,” he started slowly, almost hesitating to even speak. “Remember when you said you owed me? I need a favour.”
You didn't even hesitate to offer your help.
Maybe you should have.
"I need some help trying to find out somethings about Valentina Allegra de Fontaine."
You paused at the same, starting to step out of the kitchen —which earned a confused look from Sam— with a hand on your hip. "Valentina de Fontaine? Hasn't she been in the news a shit ton recently?"
"Yeah, illegal human experimentation." Bucky said, then added on begrudgingly. "Allegedly."
"How can someone allegedly illegally experiment on someone?" You questioned with a small tut of the tongue. "You've either done it or not. Stupid shit."
"Exactly, but we don't have the evidence and I can't exactly... y'know..." He didn't finish his sentence.
So you finished for him. "Snoop around in kind of illegal ways?"
"Exactly."
You sighed faintly, you figured that it wouldn't have taken you too long to prove that Valentina was guilty for what she was on trial for. Human experimentation? Surely that was bound to leave a pretty good bread crumb trail for you to follow, it couldn't have been that hard.
"How quick do you need what your looking for?" You asked.
"Quickly."
Bucky ended the call quickly after that, and you could only sigh at the vagueness.
"Helpful." You muttered under your breath, shoving your phone back into your pocket.
"What did he want?" Sam asked, you became quickly aware that he was still there, leaning against the doorframe with an worried expression knitted onto his face.
You shrugged your shoulders noncommittedly, crossing your arms over you chest shortly after. "He just wants to find some evidence against Valentina de Fontaine, I'm guessing she's hiding her tracks well and Bucky needs someone to uncover them again. He can't do it because of the whole congressman thing."
"Right." Sam said slowly. "And he asked you to do it? Why not me?"
You laughed out at his second question. "Careful, 'cap, your jealousy is showing. Besides, what do you think it would look like if Captain America was getting involved with political stuff?"
"I've done that before." He pointed out.
You paused, then shrugged your shoulders. "Then, I don't know. Maybe he just didn't want to bother you, or something, thinks your busy maybe?"
“I thought you wanted out of all of this.” It wasn’t a question, his eyes were locked onto yours, and you felt as if you couldn’t look away.
You nodded slowly. “I do. I am out of it. Bucky just asked a favour, it should be easy, I used to do this stuff.”
“I’m not doubting you.” He said, moving over to you to place his hands on your arms. “With everything you’ve been through, though.”
You shook your head and let out a small sigh, but there was a reassuring smile on your lips. You cupped his face. “This is far from what i used to do, this is just digging up some dirt on someone who’s pretty damn good at hiding it.”
“Right. Okay.” Sam said, almost unconvinced as his hands fell from your arms.
“How bad can it be?” You asked with a faint chuckle. “Worse than the Sokovia Accords? Sokovia, Thanos? I think I’ll be alright, Sam.”
Yeah. Maybe you should have told Bucky to shove it.
Your heart was pounding in your ears the second that Valentina had announced that you and six others were the ‘New Avengers’. It was quite possibly the biggest case of ‘wrong place, wrong time’ that you had ever experienced.
You had stumbled away the second you could, hands shaking, stomach turning in unsavoury ways. You had to swallowed the vomit that threatened to bubble up in your throat, leaving a horrid after taste on your tongue.
You chalked it down to anxiety, it had worsened from your days as an Avenger, and you had to start managing it a lot more since you left.
A hand rested on your shoulder and you flinched around. Bucky.
“Call Sam.” Was all he said, then he walked back to the others, who were surrounding Valentina now that the press had slowly filtered away —no doubt demanding answers.
You wasted no time, apparently, neither did he.
“Sam?”
“<<Reader>>, what the hell is going on? Are you okay?” He was swift to ask.
You assumed that you were seen enough on camera that Sam was able to make out the bruises on your face, maybe even the dried blood smeared under your nose.
“I’m… roughed up.” You said honestly, you found no need to lie to him, it wouldn’t have worked anyway. “Sam, I didn’t know she was going to announce that. None of us did. I promise you. On my life.”
“You should have stayed home.” He was beating around the topic of the New Avengers, you knew Sam well enough to hear that tension in his voice.
“Yeah.” You said faintly. “I’m gonna fix this, Sam. I will.”
“I don’t think this is gonna be something you can just fix.” He said quietly, and you didn’t like the tone in his voice.
.
. .
. . .
You and Sam didn't speak regularly.
At least he warned you that he was thinking of suing Valentina, and you warned him it was going to be a long progress. He didn't care. You were being dragged around from publicity stunt to another, forced to go on interviews, and parties and anything that Valentina deemed necessary to build the reputation of the new Avengers.
You were sure you couldn't miss Sam anymore than you had now, and he had blipped for five years.
Your anxiety had spiked for those first two months, you felt as if you were losing your mind at it. Almost every morning, 9am almost on the dot everyday, without fail, you found yourself throwing up in the bathroom. You fell asleep with your stomach twisting with anxiety, and you woke up with it.
Even in that state, you weren't about to miss the opportunity to answer Sam's call.
"Hey." He said softly. "How are you?"
You didn't dare you were throwing up your guts two minutes prior.
"I'm as good as I can be. Sleeping in new places is weird. Can't believe I'm stuck in the stupid tower." You sighed quietly. "And you?"
"Trying to wrap my head around all the legal stuff." Sam said, you could hear the exhaustion in his voice. "It's harder than you would think."
"I'm sorry." You muttered.
This time Sam sighed. "Don't be. You didn't know that she was going to pull that stunt. We'll figure it out."
You didn't say anything, and neither did he. The two of you sat in silence, but that seemed to be enough, and it was the closest you could get to what your normal, stress-induced days were like.
"You sound rough." Sam pointed out.
"I've barely talked, neither of us have narely talked." You argued.
There was a faint laugh from him. "True, but I know you well enough. You good?"
You hesitated for a few seconds, shrugging your shoulders as if Sam could see it. "I dunno, I'm stressed, you know how I am."
There was a reason you turned your back on this line of work, it wasn't good for you, and you found that the best way to prevent yourself getting any worse was to just find something new. So you did, until you were forced into Valentina's fake team, of course.
Sam was there for the worst of it; when your stress was spiking and you found yourself getting worked up over the simplest of things, sometimes even throwing up because of it.
You were able to get through it, of course. You went to therapy and identified your triggers and what was making it worse —making you retire from missions and your previous career entirely. You found doing that was the best option for you, you saw it, and Sam saw it.
Now you just felt like you were back right where you were when everyone came back from the blip, finding yourself paranoid every second of everyday, your heart pounding out of your chest, hyperventilating over the smallest of things, loosing sleep, losing appetite, the list goes on.
"You're getting nauseous again?" He asked, and you could pick up on his sympathy through the phone.
You sighed slowly, nodding along. "Yeah. But it's okay, I'm trying to remember all that stuff from therapy."
"That's good, then." He said simply, you could hear the concern start to melt away; at least you were able to manage it even when he wasn't there. "Make sure you take care of yourself, yeah?"
"You too." You reminded. "Don't lose your head too much when going through all this legal stuff, yeah?"
"Of course." He spoke softly.
There was a moment of silence between the two of you.
"I miss you." You whispered with a broken voice. "Miss you so much..."
"I miss you too." He whispered back, and you were sure his voice was about to break upon hearing yours do the same. "But, I'm gonna figure this out, okay?"
"Okay." You muttered.
"Get some rest." He told you gently. "I know you're sitting on the bathroom floor, but get your ass into bed, and don't take anyone's shit if they tell you to get up."
You laughed quietly, shaking your head. "It's anxiety, not the plague."
"You should say it's the plague so they get off your back." He huffed out an amused breath.
There were another few seconds between you.
“You gonna be okay?” Sam asked.
“Yeah.” You responded faintly, even though you weren’t entirely sure it was true. “You?”
“Yeah.” He said, and you knew that he didn’t think it was true either. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”
“Yeah. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
When the line went dead, you didn't move for a solid five minutes. You missed Sam so much that it weighed heavy on your heart, or perhaps that was the guilt that you were part of the reason that his plans to remake the Avengers were ruined. Perhaps it was because you threw up the contents of your stomach not that long ago.
You thought it would have been better to stay there for the rest of the day, it seemed like too much effort to get up and go about your day. You were considering the option until you heard a knock on your door.
You sighed, and pulled yourself up from the floor, then opened the door. "What, Bucky?"
"We're starting that team training thing today." He said, then looked you up and down with narrowed eyes. "What's wrong with you?"
"I'm miserable and anxiety-riddled, what do you think, Buck?" You asked with a mutter, pushing past him to grab your boots that were propped up next to your bedside table.
You sat on the edge of your bed, pulling your boots on one by one, then tying them up in a double knot. You kicked one foot to see if they were coming off, they were new after all and you had very little faith in Valentina's ability to get your the correct sizes. You suit was tighter, and so you chalked it down to Valentina not being able to get it right; though you hadn't asked around to see if it was a common occurrence.
Bucky didn't say much on the matter, neither of you did. He barely spoke to Sam nowadays, you could remember them speaking to each other the other week, but when you asked about it, neither of them wanted to talk about it.
Valentina implemented a team training session, which no one thought was a good idea because you would all train at similar timings anyway. She argued it would be good for future social events, which you were all dreading.
Bucky walked out first, and neither of you said goodbye to each other when did did. You followed on shortly after, but it seemed like he completely disappeared.
You forced yourself to think that you were better, even though there was a bitter taste in your tongue, and exhaustion that you hadn’t known before pulling at all of your muscles. You just needed to get through the day, put one foot in front of the other, all that until you could see Sam; and hopefully put this New Avengers thing to an end.
“Well, you took your time.” Walker said when you walked through.
“I threw up.” You deadpanned, glaring his way as you made your way to the makeshift circle the team made.
“Are, uh, are you okay?” Bob asked nervously, though you weren’t entirely sure why he was there, he wasn’t training.
“Peachy.”
Alexei clasped his hands together loudly, his voice following the same octave. “Let us start!”
“We should pair up,” Yelena suggested. “Alexei and Bucky, me and Walker, and <<Reader>> and Ava?”
You were glad you didn’t have to figure it out.
There was a murmur of agreement, and Bob found himself sitting somewhere else so he could just observe.
You walked over to Ava, and motioned for her to follow you into your own little area away from the others.
“So much for team bonding.” She mused.
“Right?” You chuckled faintly. “What does Valentina expect us to do? Go hold hands and frolic or something?”
She grinned at that, but there was no audible laughter. You wondered if she was just smiling to be polite.
The two of you didn't talk much about what you were going to do, it was clear; spar, spar some more, and spar. The best 'team bonding' you and your team were going to do now was training with each other, after all, you all already had seen the worst of each other (mostly Bob, to be fair).
You had to rely much more on your observation and reflexes when it came to Ava. Her powers allowing her to turn invisible for a period of time gave her an advantage, but you could make it less so of one if you just paid attention to what was going on around you.
The fight lasted about three minutes because, yeah, of course Ava was going to win that fight, she could turn invisible.
You were both panting, trying to catch your breaths about four or five feet away from each other. She had her hands on her knees, you assumed she took up more energy because of her powers.
"Oh, shit," You muttered, clearing your throat, before you lowered your voice and stepped towards her. "You've bled through. It's not all that noticeable, but..."
She glanced down and sighed heavily. "Thanks. I'll be back."
And with that, she was gone.
You stood there for a few seconds, then it dawned on you; when was the last time you had your period?
Then you started to panic a bit more.
Then the nausea started to come back.
You excused yourself without a word of goodbye to the others, and you made a beeline to your room. You remembered stuffing a bunch of things in your bags as you hastily explained to Sam that Valentina was expecting you to stay in the Watch Tower, and in doing so you had packed that pregnancy test you got the day Bucky asked you for that favour.
You had to take it now, you had to get this thought out of your head.
What were the chances you were actually pregnant, now of all times?
.
. .
. . .
It hadn’t even occurred to you that you could have been pregnant. You hadn’t thought of it since Bucky asked for a favour because you and Sam had so many failed attempts prior. When you got that pregnancy test, part of you really thought it was going to be negative again, so you had very little hope.
You kept the pregnancy test on the side of the sink, stomach dropping every time you saw it because, fuck, yours and Sam’s life were about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.
“You tell Sam yet?” Bucky asked, and you blinked hard at him in response. “What’s the look for?”
“How am I meant to tell Sam?” You questioned. “Oh, yeah, y’know how we’re both stressed out of our minds? Yeah, I’m about to add to that. You’re gonna be a Dad, yipee!”
“Maybe not like that.” Yelena chimed in as she walked past, leaving the conversation as quick as she joined.
You sighed as you watched her leave, slumping in the strange sofas that Valentina was convinced looked good (you were unconvinced). “I should have taken that pregnancy test the day I got it.”
“Maybe.” Bucky said with a small shrug. “But you can’t change that, you can only control what’s going to happen next.”
“I can’t really.” You deadpanned, looking over at him. “Valentina doesn’t want any of us to leave, and I’m honestly scared to see what she’d do if one of us tried.”
Bucky was silent for a few seconds, and you could have sworn you could see the gears turning in his head. "Think about it, do you really think Valentina is going to want a pregnant person on the team? It would draw to much attention onto you, specifically."
"Wouldn't she want that?" You questioned with a scoff. "It brings attention to the team, people might even like us more because, I dunno, we could be seen as a pro-pregnant people workplace because I haven't been kicked out or treated differently.
"Not if you use this as a way to get out." You jumped at the sound of Ava appearing from beside you, having not see her coming over.
"What does that even mean?" You questioned.
"If Valentina wants good rep, she could publicly say that she let you willingly back out because you want to focus on your family life." Ava explained. "People would like her more, start saying she's understanding, even though she isn't."
"Ava's got a point." Walker chimed in.
You frowned. "I'm so glad to see everyone is getting involved with my personal problems."
Ava just shrugged at the statement.
"Tell Sam. Figure out Valentina later." Bucky said, bringing your attention back to solely him.
You sighed quietly. "Buy me a few days, don't let Valentina figure out I've left."
You got up before anyone could agree because you knew that, at least, Bucky would.
.
. .
. . .
You didn't tell Sam that you were coming back, not until you were in your shared apartment. You were almost glad that he wasn't there when you arrived because it gave you more time to think about what the hell you were going to say.
You didn't have much time because, of course, the universe would decide to give you false hope of extra time when, in reality, you had about sixty seconds.
You heard the door open. "Sam?"
Sam appeared in the living room, where you had been, within seconds of hearing your name.
"Holy shit, <<Reader>>!" He gasped, quick to close the gap between the two of you with a fierce hug. "When did you get back?"
"Just now." You muttered, laying your head on his shoulder as your arm wrapped around him as his did you.
He pulled away and quickly cupped your face. "Are you okay? I thought you couldn't come back without Valentina's permission."
"I got the others to lie for me." You said sheepishly.
Sam laughed in turn, and was quick to pull you into another hug.
"I've missed you so much."
"I've missed you too." You muttered, "But, Sam... I have to tell you something."
Sam pulled away again with concern etched on his face. "What is it?"
You swallowed hard, looking away for a few seconds as your felt your eyes begin to water. You inhaled sharply. "I'm pregnant."
He was stunned, his eyes wide and stuck on looking at yours.
"I know." You whispered, a teary laugh escaping your lips. "It's shit timing."
"Yeah." Sam breathed out. "Yeah..."
Regardless, Sam pulled you in for a deep kiss. You melted into it, but you were sure that a few tears had slipped from your eyes. Stress and worry had become your closest companion for the past two months, and you were sure that the same applied for Sam.
When the two of you pulled away from the kiss, his forehead rested against yours.
"We're gonna figure this out, okay?" He whispered. "I'm gonna figure this out."
I'll never say it out loud but I got BEEF with the way the Loki fam is treated and I know half of it is metaphorical but its just a little too effed up to me that the only kid we don't hear about getting treated badly(at least in the versions ive read) is Sleipnir, because Loki gifted him to odin
so like oh you only like them when they're a gift okok I see
I know that they're blood brothers and that deities aren't their stories and that I shouldn't base judgments in human morality....
but the first time I read that I was like "ok I might take odin to judge Judy family court rn"
NO YOU'RE RIGHT AND YOU SHOULD SAY IT it's super fucked up and I definitely feel some kind of Ways about the entire thing, Odin and Tyr and Thor, like I love them all very much butIt's Complicated
I do try to honor all of the Gods and to be fair, the Loki vibes I've gotten whenever I've inquired on the subject is a very Shrug, Ancient Bullshit Happens, they're cool now, but like. I'm still gonna feel Ways. I think They're pretty amused by this like, oh you go little hater, you go!!
So. I'm gonna keep like. Casually hating; it adds Texture to life and it's good I think to have complicated emotions about your Gods, and dammit Loki Fam deserves someone to be pissed off about it all even if they're Bigger than that or whatever. They deserve all that and more. 💜
Omg yes, I read the poetic Edda and then the prose Edda after and every time I get onto Loki’s family my heart aches! It’s so sad how they were treated, I believe specifically His children were treated horribly (aside from Sleipnir I think) and it really makes me question certain actions of the Gods.
One thing I remember seeing is that we’re meant to learn from the Gods’ actions / their stories. Like, one thing I read was “what if in Odin’s actions to prevent Ragnarok was the actions that caused it” because in the prediction it talked about Fenrir being a problem. So, what if, in Odin trying to prevent Fenrir from being a destructive being and imprisoning Him is the action that causes Him to be His role in Ragnarok.
Then you can also think of it as Odin fearing Loki’s children and acting impulsively because of that fear. I mean, if you heard that one person / a group were gonna fuck somethings up for you, you’re gonna want them out of your life, in whatever way that might mean. So you could think of it like “yeah, okay, fairs. You thought in doing that you were protecting yourself and others”.
BUT ITS STILL SO BAD
there’s so many ways to think about it: Ancient Beef Bullshit, impulsively doing something, trying to prevent something but actually putting that future in motion.
It’s so cool to think about, but ultimately it sucks because I can’t imagine how betrayed Loki, and His family must have felt when Odin did what He did.
I have no idea if this makes sense, but still it circles in my head a least once a day.
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People usually talk about the way characters look at each other in a romantic context (and there's nothing wrong with that so don't get on your high horse or anything) but I LOVE this separate familial genre of looking at someone with stars in your eyes because like
When they look at each other you can tell that the whole universe is right there, right in front of them, all wrapped up in that one person. I'm not crying you're crying 😭
I really love my woke show about agents whose organization becomes a clandestine one after their fall from grace so much, especially considering the scrutiny it would face in today's political climate
S.H.I.E.L.D: falls out of the US government's favors but still goes on for the good of all humanity
Daisy: Half chinese anarchist inhuman female field agent
Sousa: disabled field agent
Mack: Black male field agent
Elena: Disabled Latino inhuman female field agent
Joey: Latino inhuman gay male field agent
Bobbi: Tall female field agent who tops her ex husband
Lance Hunter (0.125/4ish): Shorter than his girlfriend
May: Asian female field agent
Coulson: Disabled director of S.H.I.E.L.D, also a field agent
Fitz: Disabled short genius scientist possibly neurodivergent male field agent (We know he is neurodivergent but yeah)
Simmons: genius female biochemist that does field work
Deke: Whimsy queer (both in the unusual and gay sense)
Mike: Disabled cyborg black male that would be considered an anarchist
Peggy: Female field agent that establishes the greatest Espionage organization in the world
⭐︎⋆˚࿔ Summary: Sam and Bucky are confused about how you and Joaquín — two polar opposites — ended up together. But you love each other just the way you are.
⭐︎⋆˚࿔ Content: established relationship. sunshine x quiet. almost sunshine x grumpy? allusions to trauma. soft fluff. reader likes fruit #real. no use of y/n. some obligatory sambucky banter
⭐︎⋆˚࿔ Word Count: 1.1k
⭐︎⋆˚࿔ A/N: needed a cutesy song for my first joaquín fic!! and this one (lemon and salt hehe, analyzed and roughly translated here🫰) felt perfect🥰 also to the peeps who requested snippets of this fic in the wip game, tysm!! you motivated me to finish it :D <3
Chuckling to himself, Sam shakes his head. “Torres should start a podcast.”
“I’ll say. The kid’s mouth runs a hundred miles an hour,” Bucky huffs from the bench press.
“She loves listening to him, though,” he observes. “And he, like, absolutely worships the ground she walks on.”
“Great perception. Now can you focus and not drop this dumbbell on my face?”
“Good for them,” Sam muses, ignoring him.
Arm day was blocked out on this afternoon’s training schedule, so naturally that meant a spotting partnership between you and Joaquín – and all the conversation that comes with it.
Upbeat as ever, the team’s resident yapper talks about anything and everything with you during your post-workout stretches. His warm voice carries from his place on the mat all the way across the room. You lean against the wall, listening with a soft smile like always, a plastic container of berries that he brought for you in hand.
Exhaling as he brings his own weight on the rack, Bucky turns towards you two. He stares for a moment — not out of malice or judgement, but as if he’s genuinely trying to solve a puzzle.
“Did you ever think they’d end up together?” he blurts.
“What?”
“I mean, it’s none of my business or anything. Just curious.”
“Well…” Sam is suddenly invested in Bucky’s investment. He wonders how much ragebait the super soldier can take today. “You’re right. It’s none of our business.”
He frowns. “You literally pointed them out first.”
“And who’s continuing this?”
After giving him a sharp look, Bucky sighs. “Whatever. I’m just saying, you know, now that we’re on it…I think it’s so interesting, I guess? That they make it work somehow.”
Sam places his mission to irritate Bucky on hold. Watching you two as subtly as possible, he will admit it’s a little confusing.
A ball of energy and a collected, professional strategist. Someone who would strike up a conversation with literally any stranger, and someone who prefers to speak with her ever-observant eyes. It was a miracle that you two became friends, let alone partners who bring each other fruit as gym day snacks.
“So you wonder too,” Bucky comments.
Nope. Sam’s not about to admit that. He only shrugs. “Yeah, I wonder why you’re an idiot.”
⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚
While listening to Joaquín’s latest inquiries, a tart sweetness bursts on your tongue — the last blueberry was literally perfect. You sigh.
You finished your stretches a long time ago. You’re here for the company. And the fruit.
About a week ago, you noticed your limbs would get more sore after training. Their aches were a lingering reminder of the Red Room’s darkest physical brutality, the memory of which hurts your psyche as much as your body. On your worst days, it feels like you’re still there.
So as soon as you found that your favorite fruits are good for post-workout inflammation, Joaquín practically dropped everything to buy them.
As an expression of gratitude, you’ve started packing his favorite in return: pineapple. But today he doesn’t know you sprinkled it in Tajín, the tangy spice he loves to put on a variety of summer fruits. Popping another berry into your mouth, you let out a breathy laugh — both out of excitement for his reaction, and amusement.
Because Sam and Bucky are talking about you again.
“What is it?” Joaquín asks, wrapping up his rant about the functionality of water bottles with washable straws.
You nod towards your now fully bickering coworkers. “Them.”
“Oh, yeah. Guess they’re back at it again.” He glances Sam and Bucky’s way, then stares up at you like their very existence is unserious. “Do they really think we can’t hear them talking about us?”
“That wouldn’t surprise me,” you murmur, entertained.
As Joaquín extends his leg in the latest stretch, a comfortable silence between you settles. You sit next to his mat, propping your berries on your lap in thought.
Truth be told, there was a time you didn’t think you two would become friends. Or get that close to anyone, for that matter.
But this team became your family. Sam knows how to take a chance on anybody. Bucky’s personality is similar to yours. Then Joaquín – well, it turns out he brings an unapologetic enthusiasm to your days.
In turn, you bring stability. Strong, sure. A perfect equilibrium.
You didn’t save each other from anything. There’s simply a mutual acceptance.
And that’s enough.
“So,” Joaquín pipes up with a mischievous look, practically sensing your train of thought. “They think I’m annoying. Do you?”
Pausing, you pretend to think. “You’re manageable.”
“Hey!”
“I’m kidding!”
“I know.” He throws his head back in a laugh. “You’re not as mean as you look.”
“I look mean?” you ask innocently, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, mean as hell. I used to be afraid of you.”
The mutual teasing is never mean-spirited. If anything, it’s a testament to how comfortable you feel around each other now.
You purse your lips. “Can’t imagine why.”
“Right,” he says. “But now you’re not that scary.”
“You either.” And by scary you mean it in a I’m-talking-to-an-extrovert way. Which he also knows.
He laughs again. “Only if there’s a little lemon and salt to curb my kick, probably.”
“Oh, speaking of lemon and salt! Or, lime and salt and chili”— you lean over and pull the pineapple, its container still cold from the fridge, out of your gym bag —“I brought this.”
“Tajín?” Joaquín gasps, taking the fruit like it’s gold. “You didn’t.”
“I did.”
“Wow, I love you.” The phrase leaves his mouth instantly. As if saying it were second nature.
He always does that. It makes your heart swell.
“I love you, too, baby.” With a glint in your eye, you smile earnestly. “With or without the lemon and salt.”
You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, savoring the closeness. When you pull away, his deep brown eyes are shining, lit up as much as the rest of his face. You could look at him like this forever. In this moment, it’s just you and him.
Never mind the rehearsed chorus of groans from Sam and Bucky. You’re all used to it at this point.
But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
This life you built for yourself — it feels like a daily second chance.
Now the pain of the memories washes away bit by bit, rolling off your mind like droplets of water on berries rinsed by Joaquín in the sink.
Can you write vigilante/superhero!Reader and Spider-Man(Tom Holland) being partners. One day Spider-Man gets really hurt and Reader has to patch him up. Reader decides to confess their feelings and finds out Spider-Man is Peter Parker. Please?
This was no unfamiliar predicament. Your suit stained with blood, more so someone else's than yours, and Spider-Man having his suit awkwardly shuffled off so that his identity was revealed.
You were far from offended when he said he wanted to be careful about showing you his face, because you had been the same, and you made sure that there was no pressure for him to show you what he looked like; and the same went for you to show him what you looked like.
It did make this situation a lot harder than needed, though.
He would stubble into your apartment through the widow, then shuffle out of his suit without trying to pull his mask off —which was a harder fete said than done because it was all basically connected.
You would sigh most times, and turn around so that he could pull his suit half down and take his mask off without you finding out who he really was, just so he could pull it back on.
"You good now, Spidey?" You question after about a minute of waiting for him.
"Yep- yep, all good." He said, and you turned around just in time to see his awkward thumbs up, you ignored that and quickly focused on the bruises and cuts lingering on his torso.
"Okay," You said slowly, examining his injuries for a few seconds before you stepped away. "It's nothing serious, this time."
"Oh, that's something." He said with a small nod.
You chuckled as you went into your bathroom just a few paces outside of your bedroom. "Oh, yeah, I'm glad I don't have to stitch up a knife wound."
"That was one time!" He shouted over to you, slumping in your desk chair. "And that was just because you owed me."
Yeah, you couldn't argue with that; you had been stabbed two weeks prior to him getting almost the exact same wound.
You came back a few seconds later, bruise cream and plasters in your hand (yours and Spider-Man best friends, at this point). You saw his slumped figure and sighed quietly, perhaps his adrenaline was wearing thin now that the two of you were safe.
"I don't think I'm gonna need plasters." He said when he watched you place the two items on the desk beside him.
"It's for your face." You pointed out. "Just in case. You can check later, but I saw the hits you took. Besides, I'm pretty sure these fuckin' boots are giving me blisters now."
"Really, I thought they were old?" He asked as you undid the lid for the bruise cream.
You laughed out, then started to slowly apply the cream to the bruises that scattered his body. "A bit too old, the bottom of them are completely worn out, it's hard as hell as it hurts every time I walk."
"Landing must suck." He muttered absentmindedly. "I got this."
You let him take over and you wondered over to your bed to take off your boots, taking two platers to put on your heels —you couldn't do anything for the forming blisters on the literal bottom of your feet, though.
"Oh, yeah." You said with a hum, taking the plastic off. "It sucks. I'm surprised they're not bleeding right now."
"Speaking of bleeding, how are your knuckles?"
You looked down at one of your hands, some of the knuckles were split, dried blood covering them. "Oh, peachy, obviously."
"You should invest in gloves." He chuckled.
"Like your thin ones?" You laughed, shaking your head. "I'm good. My last pair got basically ripped apart."
"My gloves are part of my suit, thank you." He said, looking over at you.
You looked up at him at basically the same time (well, your eyes, and his masked eyes), you swallowed faintly.
"Hey, Spidey?" You cleared your throat, looking down at you're boots as you pulled your socks back on. "Got a question for you."
He turned to face you properly then, even though his muscles deeply disagreed with the action. "What is it?"
You inhaled slowly, it was better to just say it, there was no point keeping it in, especially not now. "We've been fighting alongside each other a while now."
He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess we have. Time flies."
"Yeah, it does." You said with a small nod. "And I would like to say that we've gotten pretty close with each other from it, right?"
"Yeah. I mean, I would hope so, we've patched each other up countless times now."
"So... would it be so crazy to say that I like you?" You said, heart starting to race in your chest.
He was silent for a few seconds, until an almost confused expression fell upon his face. "Well, yeah. I would assume you liked me, we're friends."
"No- no, not like that, Spidey." You shook your head, eyes boring into his as you waited for him to understand.
He sat there thinking for one, two, three seconds too long, and you felt your stomach twist in regret.
"Oh." He said. "Oh!"
"I'm not asking you to feel the same." You quickly said, shaking your head, running your hand over your face. "It was stupid of me to say it now, maybe I was hit in the head."
"No- wait, no!" He said probably even quicker than you.
He was on his feet in an instant, standing before you as you sat down. It took you a few seconds until you looked up at him too.
"I, uh... like you too." He said with a nervous smile, his hands anxiously rubbing against each other.
You let out a breath of relief at that. "Thank fuck I didn't just embarrass myself."
He chuckled, nodding along. "Yeah... uh, well, I suppose I should..."
Without any hesitation on his part, he pulled his mask off of his head. His hair ruffled up at the action, messy and sticking up in strange ways because of how long he had it on. He was cute, you thought, soft faced, with brown eyes and brunette hair. Though, because of the fight the two of you just got out of, he had cuts over his face, splotches of blood here and there.
"You're battered." You said, even though it wasn't the first thing that came to your mind.
"Uh, yeah, I can feel it." He said, one hand rubbing the back of his head.
"Cute, though." You said with a faint mutter.
"Huh- uh, you what?"
"Come on, let's go clean up your face." You said, pulling him out of your room and to the bathroom.
"Oh, uh. My name is actually Peter by the way." He said as you dragged him along.
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When yours and Loki's union was finally blessed by both his mother and father, the All-Father and the All-Mother, you both silently were overjoyed; and were very loudly celebrating with Thor, the Warriors Three and Sif later on.
The two of you had been waiting years to admit to each other your feelings, waited longer to be blessed to court one another, until finally there was a date set for your marriage. You were buzzing and jittery at the idea, Loki less so —at least, he was good at hiding if he was.
However, as excited as the two of you were, you wee also dying to be able to be affectionate with one another. With the rules of a prince, and the expectations of society, the two of you were very rarely able to show much affection to one another and, even when you were, it was in the presence of a third party; which was never romantic.
The most the two of you were able to do were link arms, he would guide you and you walked and you would have your hand on his arm. Though, after months of courtship, you were wishing to be a little closer. Maybe that was one of the reasons you were wishing the wedding date would come quicker, you were sick of pretending like you were happy with showing your fiancé zero affection!
While you were, however, strict on keeping to the rules dictated by society, Loki was far from it.
At the start, it was subtle, and you barely even realised it. He would stand a little closer to you, his hand would brush against yours once too many times, he'd interlink your pinkies together. You were happy enough with that, in all honesty, it was pressing against the boundaries but not going past them.
Then Loki started to get bolder.
When there was a moment where no eyes were on the two of you, he would press a kiss to your check or temple (rarely your lips), his hand would rest on your arm as he passed, or he would snake his arm around your waist for a few seconds. Did he want there to be judgement amongst your peers for the two of you acting in such a way before you were married? People would start to think your tricked the prince into acting in such a scandalous way.
You were stressed, to say the least.
And Loki was amused, to say the least.
You saw the way a smirk pulled on his lips every time your expression hardened and you shot him a glare —unfazed by the wordless telling off that you sent his way. He would simply walk away and go about your day, while you were stuck looking around to make sure that no one had noticed.
Of course, when it came to being around his brother, Thor, or the Warriors Three and Sif, the restrictions placed upon the two of you were lightened; that still did not cease your anxieties for the opinions that would float around if any other Asgardian saw his actions.
"Loki!" You whisper-yelled once day, after he had placed a kiss to your cheek before walking away.
He turned around to face him with an oh-so innocent look on his face. "Yes, my love?"
You frowned at him, and crossed your arms over your chest, he took the sign to walk a little closer to you. "You know that we cannot be acting such as this until we are wed."
He looked around the two of you exaggeratedly. "I see no one who would say otherwise."
"Well, that is because we are in this hallway alone." You pointed out, "Which makes me even more worrisome for someone could walk past at any moment."
Loki sighed, placing his hands on your shoulders, only for you to send him a stern look. He rolled his eyes at that and dropped his arms dramatically to his sides. "At this rate, I would assume that you do not want me to touch you until we are married."
You tilted your head to the side. "If that would be easier, and if it would steer anyone away from talking about us."
He chuckled, motioning with his hands. "People will talk regardless, I am a prince who is set to be married, the same prince who his subjects once believed would not marry."
You frowned at that, crossing your arms over your chest. "They belittle you."
Loki sighed, head hung low for a few seconds before he looked back at you. "Far from it. They have opinions, dearest. Just as I or you."
You chewed the inside of your lip at that, he was speaking the truth (funny for a God known for lying), and you couldn't argue with it either; as much as you wanted to.
His hand gripped your chin lightly, causing your eyes to fall upon his again. "You will bleed if you keep chewing."
"You aren't to be touching me, Loki. People will assume things." You said, keeping your eyes on his green ones.
He laughed out, but his hand did not move, instead it moved to cup your cheek. "But I am deeply in love with you, what if I want to be holding you like this?"
You couldn't help the grin that spread on your lips. "Then I would urge you to finish this ordeal swiftly, else we will be caught."
Content enough with the answer, he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your lips.
"I must find my brother, like I was to five minutes ago." He whispered against your lips. "I will find you soon."
"I will hold you to that, Prince." You hummed gently.
Getting soaked on the way to college but it’s okay because I’m pretending I just got out the blood ocean because I just got my ironlung tshirt and I get to wear it today
So sorry, I’m actually not writing for twilight characters for a while anymore. I know I’ve written one for Edward recently but tbf that was a one off situation. I’m very sorry!
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Some antis claim that the fact that Arnim Zola was recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D. makes Howard Stark a Nazi collaborator (let's skip the detail that there is no evidence that he was the one who initiated his hiring, and also the detail that they do not accuse Peggy of the same thing).
If Hydra = Nazis, and recruiting one of the "former" Hydra members makes you a collaborator (which it doesn't. But that's a topic for another post), then does that mean Captain America is a Nazi collaborator because he recruited not even one, but two former Hydra members?
two former Hydra members that also willing signed up to be part of Hydra, too. It's not some Bucky situation where they were forced into it, they signed up (and if we really wanna get into it; like Steve did for the US and any other former Hydra members and even Nazi members who were doing what they wanted to bring honour, glory, ect to their country. a.k.a. the one thing that really links all of them together)
Accusing Howard of being a Nazi collaborater would drag in Wanda and Pietro, like said, but also characters like Yelena, Natasha, Bucky, and Melina, and anyone I might be forgetting, AND also the SHIELD agents who were bringing those German scientists into SHIELD
