@thetimidtimetraveler and I made a prediction bingo card for the Loki finale! Some of these but were just a shot in the dark but if the wilder predictions turn out to be true then you heard it here first folks đ

seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Egypt

seen from T1

seen from Romania

seen from Malaysia
seen from T1

seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from China

seen from Japan

seen from United States
seen from China
@thetimidtimetraveler and I made a prediction bingo card for the Loki finale! Some of these but were just a shot in the dark but if the wilder predictions turn out to be true then you heard it here first folks đ

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AN ~ and with this fic I dub my @mcubingo complete! donât worry though I will still be filling the prompts Iâve got for squares that I didnât end up filling. see this post for more details. in the meantime, enjoy some FitzHunter ft. innuendo, eye sex, and Unnecessary Physical Contact
Relationships/Characters: Leo Fitz x Lance Hunter Prompt: âweaponsâ for @mcubingo Rating: T Warnings: N/A Other Tags: Sparring, Flirting, Innuendo, Kissing,
Summary: Hunter decides Fitz is up for a challenge. Fitz agrees.
Read on AO3 (~800wd)
disarming
âI think itâs time for a challenge,â Hunter announces, and Fitz feels frustration flare through his body. His muscles are starting to ache and heâs getting a headache from concentrating so hard, willing himself to shoot straight. Heâs always been good with guns when it has been about the physics, the engineering; when it comes to holding one steady and still, especially since his injury, every passing second is a challenge.
Hunter is unfazed, and swings his arms to stretch his shoulders out as he fetches a drink of water. So they are moving onto the next thing then, and for that Fitz is glad - especially when Hunter abandons the gun range altogether and slips between the elastics on the sparring ring. He leans on the top line with a sly smile on his face and offers -
âWhaddaya say? Do you wanna fight me, mate?â
Fitz is frustrated with him, but not that frustrated.
Then again, it would be fun to get in a few swings. Fitz quite enjoyed the cocky look Hunter got about him when he was winning - and refused to surrender when he was losing, because the key according to him was to always pretend you were winning. He liked the challenge, liked getting caught up in it - it wasnât so calculated as taking aim. He had to learn to trust his instinct.
(Plus, if he were being honest, he did enjoy getting tossed around a little too, especially when Hunter had that little glint of mischief in his eye. There was a reason they called it hot and heavy, after all.)
So Fitz follows Hunter into the ring, all but ready to pounce, and thatâs when Hunter declares:
âKnives!â
âWhat?â
Fitz blinks as Hunter pulls out two small fake wooden blades from the array at the other side of the ring. All of a sudden Fitz is feeling much less ready to pounce sexually and much more like decking Hunter for real. Only, heâs not sure his hand is capable of making a fist right now. He flexes his fingers, and grimaces. But Hunter still has that infuriatingly smooth smile, and itâs hot, and both of them are breathing just a little heavy, and it doesnât take much for the desire to come back when Hunter takes a little too long to pass him the knife.
âHere,â Hunter reminds him, letting their fingers linger together on the wooden shaft. âRemember, especially in a combat situation, youâre going to be tempted to hold onto this thing for dear life but nobody wants that. All youâll get his hand cramps.â
He adjusts Fitzâs hand, rounding it, and thereâs no way he doesnât know what Fitz is thinking but he smiles right on through the heat that creeps up the back of Fitzâs neck.
âYou wanna be loose with it,â Hunter instructs. âTrust the knife. Like this.â
Almost effortlessly, or so it seems, Hunter begins to twist and turn his blade between his fingers, over his knuckles, forward and back easily as though it is an extra limb. Fitz can feel his hand cramping up at the very thought, and hums indecisively. Hunter stops showing off - or does he, because as he backs up to invite Fitz into an armed spar, he shrugs and offers some advice.
âDonât worry, you donât have to get that fancy with it. I just like doing that to distract people. You can just as easily do it with your mouth.â
âBy talking, you mean?â Fitz challenges, with a raised eyebrow and a whisper of a grin of his own.
âI never said that,â Hunter clarifies, with just the slightest hint of teasing in his tone. âWhy? Did you have something else in mind?â
He tosses the knife, catches it, and runs his finger softly along the hilt. Heâs watching the knife, not Fitz, and heâs left his defences open on purpose. Fitz takes the invitation, charging him with a kiss that pins him up against the far side, straining the elastics under their weight. The knife falls from Hunterâs hand and he wraps his arms around Fitz, pulling him closer. The air grows hot and heavy as promised, and then, after a moment, their lips pull away.
Fitz beams.
Hunterâs smile is softer now, a little more dazed, but still victorious. It was, after all, what he had planned all along.
âI guess you win,â he concedes.
Fitz is distracted by the taste of Hunter on his lips. He remembers that there is a name for that type of smile Hunter was giving him before, and that funnily enough that word is disarming, and that that realisation is going to make an excellent pun one day.
But not today, he promises himself as Hunter pulls him into another kiss. Today, he has other things to do.
Shall We Dance- Lokane
A/N: Thisâll be the first of my @mcubingo fills. Because Iâm ambitious (read: stupid) Iâm going to attempt a full blackout. So here we go with number one!
**
01: Dancing (Loki/Jane)
Jane wasnât looking for a dance partner. Then one found her.
âMay I have this dance?â
There were a lot of ways Jane couldâve imagined seeing Loki again. This wasnât one of them.
That heâd faked his death (again) was not news to her. Thor had messaged her from his hijacked spaceship full of displaced refugees that Asgard was gone and Loki was back. A nice sentiment considering theyâd only just broken up.
That heâd then died for real, only to come back to life along with half the universe thanks to some vaguely explained timey wimey BS (Darcyâs words not hers), was a bit more of a shock. But even knowing Loki was alive and freely roaming the earth, she never thought their paths would cross again. Surely, heâd have better things to do than seek out one of his brotherâs exes, of which she assumed there were many (not a crack against Thor just an observation given his age).
Yet here they were, at Tony Starkâs wedding of all places. Jane had donned a respectable green dress for the occasion- which coincidentally matched the accents of Lokiâs suit perfectly- and a marginally comfortable pair of pumps. Somewhere on the dance floor was Darcy, leading Ian in their fifth dance of the night, because that girl was incorrigible and poor Ian didnât have a proper ânoâ threshold. They werenât likely to be back any time soon. Jane would have to face the music alone.
âSeriously?â
Lokiâs smile, which definitely did not make her toes curl, widened. âYou havenât had a partner all night. Itâs wrong for such a beautiful woman to be ignored.â
âMaybe I just donât want to dance,â Jane countered, which was kind of true. She hadnât come here looking for a date, but watching Tony and Pepper have their first dance as man and wife, followed by twenty more couples joining in for the next song, she was increasingly aware of the cold, empty spot at the table next to her.
âIf thatâs the case,â he intoned, âtell me you donât want me, and perhaps Iâll leave.â
âOkay, I donât want you,â she said, which was definitely true. âNow leave.â
âI donât feel like it.â
âYou said you would.â
âI said perhaps I would.â Then he sat down. Right in that cold, empty spot, which was now full of his presence. âIâve decided Iâd rather not.â
It wouldnât occur to Jane until sometime later that she couldâve just gotten up and sat somewhere else. By then, sheâd be glad she didnât, but for now, Loki was about as welcome in her life as a swarm of mosquitos. In an attempt to dissuade him from further conversation, she turned her attention to the dance floor. There was Darcy, spinning a green-faced Ian. Vision and Wanda, wrapped in each otherâs arms, floated an inch off the ground and seemed to be hugging more than dancing. Contrastly, Peter Quill and Gamora had decided a disco routine was perfect for an adult contemporary love song. Bruce was leading a slightly unsteady Valkryie, and after five straight minutes of Peter Parker stammering compliments at her, Shuri finally realized he was asking her to dance and they were now on their second number.
âAre you not jealous of their happiness?â Loki asked.
Jane feigned a look of boredom. âOh, youâre still here? Thought you left ages ago.â
âOnly if youâll go with me.â Damn that grin.
âWhy would you want to dance with me in the first place? You know I dated your brother, right?â
âIndeed you did, and are no longer. Unless you were hoping for a reconciliation.â
Jane glanced at the mile-long refreshment table, where Thor had spent the last twenty minutes trading stories with Steve Rogers and King TâChalla. He hadnât spoken to her all night and might not even know she was there. Once upon a time, she wouldâve ached with a need for his acknowledgment. Now, she just eyed a tray of shrimp cocktails and reminded herself to grab one later.
âTonight, Iâm just hoping for something to eat,â she said. His eyes sparkled mischievously as she pointed at him. âDo not make an innuendo.â
âI wasnât going to.â
âYes, you were.â
Loki hummed, one long finger stroking his chin. âYou know me too well, my dear. Shall we have that dance now?â
Jane closed her eyes and wondered what the hell ever happened in her life to lead her to this. âIâm not getting rid of you until I give in, am I?â
âYou said it, not me.â
He offered her a hand. Common sense dictated that she should not even think about thinking about letting Loki lead her anywhere, even if it was just a dance. Fortunately, Jane was never known for being sensible. That was how she won the Nobel prize.
âI hope you know all the steps,â she said as they arrived on the dance floor in time for a smooth R&B song to start up. âBecause⌠I honestly donât.â
Loki quirked an eyebrow. âNot much a dancer I presume?â
âI think the last time might have been my senior prom.â
âAnd here I thought you were just being coy.â He pulled her close, much closer than necessary. Jane wouldâve pulled away except his arms were like metal cords, and God he smelled good⌠âNo matter. Iâm always happy to take the lead.â
âOkay, that was definitely an innuendo.â
âOnly if you want it to be,â he whispered huskily in her ear.
And Jane couldnât say she didnât.
Lost boys (don't hand over the future)
[AO3] {FitzHunter, Rated T, ~1.3K}
This fills the âFitzHunter: under the bleachersâ square in my MCU Bingo Card. Iâm accepting prompts for it and for my MCU Kink Bingo Card too. For @theclaravoyant  who needs a small FH pick-me-up.
Part of the love bites so deep verse but can be read as a stand-alone.Â
Summary: Fitz is invited to give a talk at his old high-school, but memories are not so easy to swallow as he was expecting. Luckily, Hunter is there to comfort him.
Sneak-Peak:
Fitz half-scoffs, half-sobs, and somewhere in between those, he finds his voice again, âI canât do that, Hunter.â
âYou can do whatever the hell you want, love. If you are not feeling it, no need to explain it, I will craft an excuse for you on the spot. You know Iâm skilled like that.â
There is a long stretch of silence, and Hunter tries to come as non-imposing as possible, keeping his caresses but lowering his eyes.
âWhat if I want to explain it?â
âWhat?â
âNot to the school. But to, um, to you. Tell you why I am freaking out. Would that be okay?â
just a fantasy
@mcubingo: Written for the "sleepy or exhausted" square on the Steve Rogers/Loki Laufeyson line of my bingo card!Â
Loki kinda wants Steve to have sex with him while he's sleeping. Initially, Steve is reluctant, but he sees the light.
Readable as a standalone piece, in the vague future of BTJ. Rated E. Somnophilia. Trans&intersex!Loki. 1.8k.
My Ao3 | Send requests | Tip jar!
âItâs a rather arousing thought, if Iâm to be entirely honest,â Loki murmurs, softly. His breath is cool against the shell of Steveâs ear, so cool that Steve thinks for a second he could be back in the ice again, and Steve swallows, tightly. âThe idea of it⌠Me fast asleep, deep in the depths of unconsciousness, and you, you simply taking what you want, what you are owed.â
âIs that right?â Steve asks, and heâs surprised by the sudden huskiness of his own voice. Lokiâs tongue flicks cool against the shell of Steveâs ear, and Steve hisses out a sound, leaning back against Lokiâs palms where they settle on his shoulders.
âOh, yes,â Loki says. âOh, yes. Iâve done such ills in the world, and the thought of taking back from me, taking your pleasure from my body where I can neither confirm nor deny it is yours, use me as a thing. I owe it to you, donât I?â
âYou donât owe anybody anything,â Steve says. He is surprised by the sternness in his own tone, the fierceness. âYour body is yours, not mine.â
âItâs just a fantasy,â Loki murmurs, his voice slightly defensive, and his hands come away from Steveâs shoulders. âDo forgive me if I insulted your delicate sensibilities. You neednât take every sexual desire of mine for some emotional confession I intend not.â
Steve watches Loki sleeping. Heâd nearly worked himself to exhaustion the night before, healing heroes and civilians alike, and now itâs over, itâs all over, but⌠God. Steveâs never seen Loki so tired.
And yetâŚ

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Would you write something with Fitzskimmons after they get cryo Fitz back? Please and thank you
AN ~ Thank you for your extraordinary patience. Iâve had a lot going on (including but not limited to a BUNCH of fics I hope youâve been able to enjoy in the meantime). This is quite a cathartic fic, especially between Fitz and Daisy, as I felt I had to acknowledge that trauma - but with only vague references to the actual content of 5x14. I hope you like it!Â
(I also donât mind if people want to read this as platonic, up to you).
Relationships/Characters: FitzSkimmons (Fitz x Daisy x Simmons)Prompt: âcomfortâ for @mcubingo (see the rest of my card here)Rating: TWarnings: N/AOther Tags: Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Post S5 Finale, Vague 5x14 ReferencesÂ
Summary:When Fitz gets out of cryo, Jemma fusses over him and Daisy avoids him. A man canât help but wonder why, but the answer is as horrible, and yet as simple, as it seems.
Read on AO3 (~1900wd)
the other shoe
âHow are you feeling?â
Jemma couldnât help but smile at Fitz as she crept into his hospital room. He smiled back, wearily, and confessed with a haggard voice.
âHonestly? Like I havenât slept in a year.â
âWell, to be fair to your body, you probably havenât. Not really.â
Fitz nodded. His head was heavy. His eyes ached with the pain of staying open and yet - when Jemma ran her hand through his curls he felt such blissful relief. He hardly remembered what concrete felt like, at the touch of those beautiful fingers. When he breathed, and she was standing in his space, he could smell her, and she smelt fresh and floral and it was probably just some sort of soap or laundry detergent but it was heaven to Fitzâs senses, whoâd had nothing but grit and crime and sweat and fear to clog them for so long.
Jemma took a seat in the chair that somebody had already pulled to the bedside, and looked over the things theyâd brought Fitz so far. A small shaving kit. His good old trusty copy of The Hobbit. So much the same as so many times before.
Squeezing Fitzâs hand, Jemma took a deep breath.
âIâm glad youâre okay,â she said, trying not to let her voice crack too much. âBut I really want you to get some rest. Youâve missed a lot, but just - rest. Please? After the Framework and prison and⌠well, I suppose only you know what elseâŚâ
âJemma,â Fitz crooned, her name as light as a dream on his breath, as he lifted one hand from under hers, and placed it on top, warm and steady. âYouâve got nothing to worry about. I swear. This bed is comfortable, Iâm knackered, and even if I wanted to jump back into things, I donât think my knees would have held me up another second. Now that youâre here, thereâs no reason to leave. ExceptâŚâ
Fitz felt a pang of pain in his heart, and he saw the slightest grimace cross Jemmaâs features. She knew, then, what he knew. Sheâd noticed Daisy ignoring him, hovering back, making excuses to stay away. Sheâd noticed, that Daisy couldnât quite look him in the eye, and there was a pain in her, in that grimace, warning him that it was not a matter of grief. Something had happened in his absence. Something bad.
Sardines ~ [AOS Team, Rated T]
AN ~ for @mcubingo, and comprised of a few combined prompts for @liz-a-bell. Fluffy hurt/comfort, ft. Daisy & the Team. I hope you like it!
Relationships/Characters: Daisy & Team Prompt: âUnder the Bleachersâ for @mcubingoâ Rating: T Warnings: N/A Other Tags: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Coarse Language, Mild References to Childhood Emotional Trauma
Summary: When a successful mission leaves Daisy unexpectedly reeling with feelings from her past, she needs somewhere to hide. And some friends, to help her through the darkness to the other side.
Read on AO3 (~2100wd) or below
Sardines
âThank you so much, again!â Linda cried, pulling her daughter into a hug. Abby grinned and squeezed back, too overjoyed to bother with the politics of being a teenager. Sheâd had a long, hard, actually honest-to-goodness life-threatening day, and she wanted nothing more than Lindaâs hugs and sappy music on the ride home, and Markâs homemade pizza, and ice-cream in the lounge with the both of them. She couldnât thank the Shield team enough.
Usually, Daisy would have been overjoyed watching such a reunion. Abby had performed bravely and her motherâs love was absolute and genuine â if nothing else, she could tell by Abbyâs response to it. The pride and protectiveness and relief emanated from their embrace with a soft glow that Daisy would have thought would lift her spirits and help wash away the weight of fighting. Instead, and very much against her wish or will, she felt a rotting sort of feeling clawing at her heart.
âEx- excuse me,â she stammered, waving her leave. âIâm just going to get some water. Long day, you know how it is. Iâll catch you later, hm?â
The rest of the team looked subtly thrown by her odd behaviour. Had she caught sight of another enemy, perhaps, and didnât want to alarm Abby and mother before she took care of it? Was she overwhelmed, having saved not just Abby, but in doing so, her entire school? Or was she maybe even injured and trying not to let on? She had, after all, taken the brunt of the fighting. No, it was this terrible sickness, that seemed to get worse the more she tried to figure out where it was coming from. It clawed up her throat like a panic attack, and when she ran to the drink fountains and drowned it in cool, if coppery, liquid, she felt like she was choking.
Outside. She had to get outside.
Heat Wave- Lokane
11: Sex Pollen- Lokane
Loki finds Jane in a compromising position.
WARNING: Mild dub-con.
If this was to be Lokiâs penance for his crimes, maybe he shouldâve just gone back to prison. At least then he wouldnât be stuck chasing foolish mortal scientists who couldnât leave well enough alone across the nine (pardon, eight) realms.
Exactly how Jane Foster got herself all the way to Alfheim with her primitive Bifrost âprototypeâ was anyoneâs guess. Not even Stark could figure it out, and heâd been watching. According to his account, Jane said something about rising temperatures at the core sight, and then she vanished into thin air. It was only thanks to the tracking device in her phone that they were able to pinpoint her location. Thor, ever the thoughtful and conscientious brother, graciously volunteered Loki for the honor of retrieving her. He couldnât do it himself because the people of Asgard needed their leader as they built their new home on the soils of Midgard.
It was actually because he was a coward unwilling to face Jane Foster so soon after she left him. Before Loki could say so, Stark activated the bridge and he was on his way. A full day had past and he was ready to give her up for dead when he spotted a scrap of cloth hanging from a thorn bush. It was of poor quality and stained with coffee. Beneath the brown splotches were the hideous discolored squares commonly referred to as âplaid.â
He followed the trail as more signs of her presence popped up. Another scrap here, loose sheets of paper covered in numbers there. A dense circle of bushes was just up ahead, her pitiful moans just audible beyond the thick leaves. Seemed whatever the great Jane Foster found in there had finally brought her to her knees. How disappointing.
Loki founded her curled up in the grass, clutching her midsection and squeezing her legs together. She was coated in a layer of sweat, and that alone wouldâve told him what was wrong even before he saw the creeping vines with their luminescent red fruit.
âOh my,â he said, smirking even as he kept a safe distance between himself and the plant. âWhat have you been up to, Dr. Foster?â