#maybe three poop jokes if you count the cut to the poop pile and then kenji getting some on his foot as separate

[swan2swan]

Still impressive to me that I think Chaos Theory and Camp Cretaceous have combined for a total of three poop jokes and one pee joke (arguably there's a second pee joke combined with one of the poop jokes because of Combinations, but...).

[tisfan]

Title: From Russia with Purrs Square: A3 - FREE SQUARE Warning: no animals were actually harmed in the writing of this fic Rating: Gen Pairing: Peter Parker & Ned Leeds / background Bucky/Tony Summary: Spider-Man doesn’t always get called in to help with the Avengers stuff, but when Peter is given a special, urgent mission from the Winter Soldier, he needs to call in backup Link: A03 Word Count: 2505 For @tonystarkbingo

The spidey-sense was a bitch, really. Bad enough all his senses were cranked up to eleven and a half, but then he was on edge constantly for the first year, or more. Spidey-sense wasn’t common sense. It wasn’t directional. About half the time it wasn’t even useful. Had him ducking spitballs by diving to the floor like there was an lone shooter on school grounds.

Not that Peter didn’t already have a rep for being a bit of a spaz, and at a school for top academics, that was saying a lot. There were many ways to bully people, and shoving them into lockers was only for the most uncreative.

Which did mean, after the first year or so, he got sort of… used to it. The spidey-sense tingling didn’t have him bolting upright out of bed at three in the morning to cling to the ceiling like a terrified bat.

Usually he woke up long enough to blink at his clock, pause a moment to see if whatever it was actually planned to break through his window, and then went back to sleep.

Not this time.

His skin rippled and electric jolts went up and down his spine. Spidey-sense was like licking a nine-volt. Not painful, but impossible to endure for long, and freaky-weird on top of that.

Rap-rap-rap.

Peter rubbed at his eyes. “I swear,” he muttered, pushing himself up from his bed, “if I’m getting danger signals because there’s a pigeon at my window, I’m going to hurt someone.”

(more below the cut)

He reached under his bed and grabbed one of his spare web-slingers. Not one of the fancy things that Mr. Stark had set up for him with five hundred and seventy-six possible combinations, but the regular old one. Because he was tired and he was pretty sure it was a pigeon, but he wasn’t sure, so--

Rap-rap-rap.

Peter was just peeking through the blinds when a hand shoved his window up. A metal hand, with black and gold fingers. A moment later, the blinds shifted aside and there was a man in his bedroom.

A familiar man.

“Hey, aren’t--”

“Hush, kid,” the guy said in a deep, smoky sort of voice. The kind that spies used in meetings with their contacts.

“Aren’t you the Winter Soldier?” Peter hissed, excitable. Better to keep his voice down, though. Aunt May would completely freak out if there was a superhero in his room. Especially one that had been wanted for war crimes.

“Look, kid,” the Winter Soldier said. “Stark told me you could be trusted.”

“Mr. Stark said--” Peter squeaked. “Yeah, I mean, yeah, he… we do missions. Sometimes. Together. We’re a team. Partners. Like that.” He crossed his fingers. “You can trust me, yes sir.”

“Great,” the Winter Soldier said. “I need you to watch this cat for me.”

“What?”

The Winter Soldier reached outside onto the fire escape and brought in a cat carrier. It wasn’t an ordinary, plastic PetsWorld thing, either, but a fancy, modular box. Shiny and sleek and bearing the Stark Industries logo. “This is Alpine,” the Winter Soldier said. “Don’t let anything happen to this cat. I’ll be back in about a week.”

Peter looked into the carrier and saw a pair of blue eyes looking back at him.

“Okay--?”

The Winter Soldier was gone.

At least the multilayered cat carrier had come with supplies.

And the highest high-tech litter box Peter had ever seen, which was not saying a lot, because Peter had never lived in a rental that allowed pets, much less ever had one. Aside from a goldfish he’d won at the fair one time, but that had died within a week, and really, the less said about that, the better.

“You--” He told the cat, pointing at it, “--had better not die in a week.”

The cat came forward to sniff at his finger, and then brushed her head under his hand.

The Stark-Box came with a very fine layer of particles -- like crystals, really, in red and gold, because sure, why not, let the cat poop on the Iron Man colors. That was probably a bet that Mr. Stark had lost, or something. Or a joke that he didn’t want to know about -- and did a quick removal of feces or urine, put it in a little air-tight bag like they were on the International Space Station, as well as performed basic medical analysis on the output and sent a text to Peter’s phone, telling him that Alpine was in perfect health.

“What are you, some kind of spy cat?” He couldn’t imagine Mr. Stark going this far out of his way for a housepet.

There were also several tins of food, packets of a semi-soft food, and some hard kibble. There were feeding instructions and an admonishment to water the cat (that also went directly to his phone and he wondered if there was some sort of bluetooth connection and onboard computer in the Stark Carrier.

There were enrichment activities -- including a miniature of Cap’s shield that zoomed around the room under its own power and Alpine chased it a few times before batting it into Peter’s laundry basket where it stayed, buzzing fitfully, until Peter put it away.

A cat brush that Alpine turned her nose up at, and proceeded to attack his hand when he tried to use it. “Well, I went a week last year without brushing my hair-- don’t look at me like that, it was finals -- and it didn’t hurt me, so you’ll probably be okay.”

Alpine turned around and curled into a ball on Peter’s bed and went to sleep.

Which was great until Peter considered the fact that it was now four in the morning, he’d spent the last two hours poking and playing with the Winter Soldier’s cat, and he still had school in the morning.

And the cat… was laying in his bed. In the center of his bed. Where he wanted to sleep.

He poked her a few times. “Get up, that’s my sleeping spot.”

She ignored him.

Peter sighed, considered moving her. She opened one blue eye and gave him a Look.

Psychic cat, maybe?

“Ug, whatever.” He slung a web hammock and climbed in. He’d slept in worse places.

“You look like crap,” Ned said, sliding into the desk next to Peter. “Busy night crime fighting, rescuing stolen bikes? Giving directions? Oh, oh, I know, stopped a mugging?”

“Cat.”

“What?”

“I have a cat,” Peter explained, through a yawn. “The Winter Soldier showed up and left me a cat. A special cat.”

“Like, a lion? Or a radioactive housecat? Do you think if it bit me, I might get powers?”

Peter almost laughed.

Almost.

“I don’t think so?” Peter opened his textbook and turned to the page the teacher required. “I don’t know, he didn’t say much, just that it was important, and--”

“Mr. Parker, is there something you’d like to share with the class, or can I get on with our history lesson?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Peter said. “Go on, it’s fascinating.”

“Sarcasm, dude,” Ned hissed at him.

He waited until the teacher turned away again. “So, come over and help me out?”

“With a cat?”

“Dude, you have pets, I need advice! Help!”

“I have sea monkeys that I ordered from a comic book,” Ned said, with vast patience. “That’s not exactly the same as keeping a mutant cat under control.”

“She’s not a mutant,” Peter said, “at least I don’t think so. I don’t know, maybe she’s housing nano-tech or something. Just come over and help me out, okay?”

“Mutant nanotech cat,” Ned said. “And yet, somehow, this seems like work.”

“You’re the one who wanted to be a hero, pal,” Peter told him.

“Guy in the chair, Peter,” Ned corrected. “Q to your Bond.”

“Why is your room covered in webs?”

“She keeps knocking stuff off the shelves.”

“Really? Like that’s an actual thing, I thought it was just a meme,” Ned said.

“Sure, sit something there-- just on the edge of the desk.”

Ned pulled out his cellphone and put it on the side of Peter’s desk.

“Now come over here, so you don’t scare her,” Peter told him.

And sure enough a few seconds later, Alpine hopped up onto the desk. Sat next to the phone.

And knocked it on the floor.

Alpine was strong, Peter discovered. After pushing over Ned’s phone, a pile of algebra books, the casing for Peter’s old computer, a few dumbell weights that he’d used back before the spider bite and rarely even thought about now…

“This cat can push fifty pounds,” Ned said in awe. “Maybe it’s got the super soldier serum in it!”

Peter scoffed. “I can pick up an eighty-thousand pound cargo truck.” For a few seconds, at any rate, and really, it was more like he caught it. And it had kinda knocked him on his ass. A bit. But Ned didn’t need to know that.

“Well, not everyone can be Spider-Man,” Ned said, philosophically.

“Peter, you need to be -- are you listening to me?”

“Yes, Aunt May, “ Peter said, grabbing a bag of granola from the drawer and emptying into his mouth, chewing like a chipmunk. The worst thing about the whole Spider-Man gig was how he was always freaking hungry, no matter how much he ate. And he knew they couldn’t afford it. MJ had gone on a tear a few months ago about a diet that the goal was SNATT -- slightly nauseated all the time -- to obtain the perfect beach body.

One time his stomach had growled in biology so loudly that the whole class turned to stare, and Peter had said he was doing the kimkins diet. Almost everyone had stopped worrying about it, then, except for MJ, who started bringing him articles about eating disorders.

“--you need to be more careful about leaving your window open. There was a cat in your room.”

Slightly nauseated all the time.

The granola turned into a rock in his stomach. “So--” casually, casually “--where’s the cat now?” And how the heck hadn’t she noticed the cat box and food and litter if Aunt May was in his room?

“Her owner came and got her,” May said, blithely unaware that she was single handedly destroying Peter’s entire existence. “Nice man. Michael-- what did he say his last name was? I don’t remember. He said he saw her in your window, and came over to get her. I said we didn’t have a cat here, he must be mistaken, but when I opened the door to your room, she ran right to him. Says she’s his companion animal -- suffers from a rare blood disorder and she can smell it when he needs to medicate. That’s so smart, you know, having an animal that can do that.”

Morbius.

His aunt was less than six feet away from someone who drank human blood? Peter just about swooned.

“Peter, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I mean, you know, cat. In my room. I should go check and make sure she didn’t leave any presents.”

Aunt May made a fair enough sort of shrug and Peter bolted, leaving the rest of his snack on the kitchen counter. Threw on the spider-suit, stashed the Stark KatCaddy in his closet, and was out the window in a moment.

“Now, aside from a castle, if I was a nasty old vampire with a cat that I wanted for some reason, where would I go?”

Alchemex.

Alpine was, of all crazy things, asleep in Peter’s lap. He’d webbed her twice trying to get her back from Morbius, she’d spent half the day with a crazy vampire, and then she’d taken a trip across the city via the spider-street.

That she was curled up in his lap, absently kneading his thigh and purring little cute snores while she slept was…

“This cat is something else,” Peter said. He scratched between her ears and she opened up one eye to peer at him, then mewed softly and went back to sleep.

“So, like a mutant cat?”

“Well, no,” Peter said. “I’m not sure. Morbius thought she might have been injected with the super soldier serum. He was planning to drain all her blood and analyze it, with the idea of making a cure for himself.”

“A vampire who wants a cure,” Ned said. “Why is he a bad guy again? I mean, if I was a vampire who could go out in the day time, I’d go to high school every day and be cool and broody. Like Twilight.”

“Ned, you do go to high school every day,” Peter pointed out.

“Oh, right, yeah…”

Spidey sense didn’t wake him up.

The knocking on his window did, though.

Peter groaned. “What’s the matter with you? Can’t you just come by during normal daytime hours?” He shoved the window up to let the Winter Soldier in.

“You look tired, kid,” the Winter Soldier said.

“Yeah, well, your super cat’s like super useless,” Peter said. “Three villains, two nights of knocking all my stuff on the floor, one day of puking on my bed, and a partridge in a pear tree. Does she have any abilities, because you should totally train her up some.”

“Villains?”

“Dude, your cat got catnapped -- and not like in the cute, sleeping in my lap way -- four times. Twice by Morbius, who either wants to drink her blood or test it or something.”

The Winter Soldier’s eyebrows went up and his face took on murderous intent.

“Look, I got her back, everything’s cool, you do not have to get Cap to drop another 18-wheeler on me,” Peter said. “Everything’s perfectly fine right now, we’re all fine here, how are you?”

“I’m still stuck on villains,” the Winter Soldier admitted. “What’d you do, take out an ad in th’ papers that you were cat sitting?”

“I don’t know how Morbius knew,” Peter admitted, “but once the Sinister Six saw that Spider-Man was rescuing a cat, they decided the cat had to be important for some reason, I guess.”

“Well, shit, kid,” the Winter Soldier said. “I didn’t think that would happen. I just-- Tony… last minute--”

“You had a mission?”

“I had a vacation,” the Winter Soldier said. “Vacation. I love the sound of that word. Va-caaaay-shun.” The Winter Soldier rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck and --was that a hickey?

“I thought you had healing factor,” Peter said, “so-- who-- I mean, how har-- you know what, don’t answer that. You had a good vacation, that’s all I need to know, it is not my business if Mr. Stark was gnawing on your neck like a starving vampire, we have enough vampires around here, that’s all perfectly normal and fine.”

The Winter Soldier laughed. “Somethin’ like that, kid,” he said. “Sorry about the trouble, though. She wouldn’t have liked a kennel and I jus’ didn’t have anywhere else to take her, to someone I trusted.”

“You know what, Mr. Winter Soldier, sir, any time,” Peter said.

[littlecrookedheart]

Anything Goes

Pairing : Tom x Clove ft the It Lives Beneath Squad & Andy Kang

Rating : Fluff! M for some suggestive themes and language

Word Count : 2,695

Author’s Note : Fluff for everyone! I treated the thirst squad early this week. Let's hope for a not horrible chapter today! Thank you to @brightpinkpeppercorn for the phrase, "Frosty the snow Tom."

Disclaimer : I do not own these characters. I’ve added a bit of a flare to them for the sake of this piece, but they do not belong to me.

Warm. Safe. Loving.

Clove felt the pull of morning through the curtains, light spilling across her face, seeming to gently ease her awake. Without opening her eyes, she felt next to her, Tom's usual sleeping form in its position, the quiet puffs of his light snoring indicating that the morning light didn't have quite the same effect on him.

She leaned over, resting her head on his chest, turning her head upward to bless her eyes with his face - the first thing she sees today.

“Handsome,” she whispered, pressing tiny kisses along his jaw and cheeks, running her hands through his loose locks.

Tom stirred and opened his eyes, his expression becoming a drowsy smile.

“Morning, beauty.”

“Morning,” she said, meeting his lips with a kiss, gentle and sweet, pulling the blankets over them entirely.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Savoring a few cozy moments with my guy. Is that okay?”

Tom's hands found her back, pulling her close to him.

“More than okay.”

“Sleepy Tom, you drive me wild.”

“Sleepy Clove...not so bad yourself.”

“No, don't fall back asleep. We’re supposed to meet everyone.”

“I'm not.”

“Tell me a coherent sentence and I'll believe that.”

He sighed, pushing the covers off.

“I got up last night to pee and I saw that it was snowing.”

“What? Like, actually?”

“They were warning us about significant accumulation.”

“Yeah but...I'm a skeptic.”

“Go look,” he said, nodding toward the bedroom window.

Clove jumped up, sliding across the floors like a child on Christmas. Her eyes went wide as she turned to him, “Uh…”

“What?”

“Snow. Freaking. Day.”

She did a little dance before hopping back into bed, peppering his face with more kisses.

“Kiss me in the snow!”

“Okay, weirdo. Calm down.”

“I'm so happy to see snow. It's been awhile!”

“Mhm. Imagine how it'll be when,” he pulled her to him, using his free hand to showcase an idea blossoming in his mind, “We’re in our own house and we wake up, our bay window looking out over fresh snow.”

“Well have a bay window?”

“Right there,” he moved his hand to show a space in front of the bed. “We’ll have coffee and breakfast and make snow angels in the yard.”

“You trying to make me all emotional first thing in the morning?”

“Maybe. I'm just ready, love. Ready for all of that good stuff.”

“Me too. In the meantime,” she pressed her nose to his, “Gonna enjoy all of this good stuff.”

“Tell me what you like most about snow.”

“Magic. I don't know what it is, but it's always got some hidden magic.”

“I think you might be right.”

“Of course I am.”

“Mm,” he groaned as she sat up, “Don't go.”

She turned her phone over in her hand, checking text messages from Imogen.

“No brunch today! Imogen sent a park location to the group chat. She says there's a field where the kids don't go because they go to a big hill."

“Yeah, I know the hill.”

“Of course you do, you're a big kid.”

“It's way too crowded.”

“Ugh. I was going to suggest we go later after group hangs-”

“Oh, I know what you were going to suggest. Big kid.”

Clove wiggled her butt at him, digging through her bag for an outfit.

“Get up! Let's go be twenty somethings and play in the snow with our other adult friends.”

-

Just ahead of the park, Clove and Tom spotted Imogen and Danni chatting over a split in half donut.

“Hey!”

“Clove! Good morning. Hi, Tom!”

“Hiya!”

“We don't know where Parker is. He's usually the first one to show up anywhere.”

“Did anyone call?” Clove asked, turning to see Tom's expression, which was beaming in a different direction.

“Oh. My. God.” He stuttered, nearly doubling over in smiles, “Andy Kang. What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was in the area!”

“Andy!” Clove wrapped him in an embrace, “It's so good to see you. You look so happy!”

“So do you guys!”

Parker strolled up from behind him, nodding to everyone.

“Don't,” Andy leaned in and whispered to Tom, “I'll fill you in later.”

Tom nodded, seeming to clear his expression entirely.

“What exactly are we doing at this park?” Parker asked, pulling his jacket closer to him to shield from the wind.

“Snow shenanigans!” Imogen took Clove and Danni's hands, running ahead.

“Snow shenanigans it is.” Andy jogged forward, beckoning for them to join him, “Come on, slow pokes.”

-

“How are we doing this?”

“Snowballs.”

“Obviously, Tom. I mean teams.”

“Okay, Danni. I don't want to be on your team because you're too cranky.”

“Fine. Take Parker, I want Imogen and Clove.”

“Clove is not up for grabs, her wrist is still weird from flag football.”

“It is not! I'm just a chicken because it's only been better for a little bit. I'm the referee!” Clove called, twirling under a tree branch that released snow as it swayed. “Snow magic, guys!”

Tom's eyes sparkled as his smile lit up, watching her in awe as her curls swayed in the wind, arms outstretched, her lips and cheeks rosy from the cold.

“Imogen?”

“Imogen's not playing sports,” she said, joining Clove on the sidelines, taking her hands and spinning in circles.

“Okay. So it's Tom and Parker and me and Andy.”

“Sounds good! Ten minutes for prep?”

“Ten?” Andy shook his head, “Five.”

“Fifteen,” Danni said, “Gen and I are gonna grab some cocoa. There's a stand across the road.”

“Fine! So much prep time.” Andy stomped away, Parker right behind him.

Tom walked over to Clove, making puppy dog eyes.

“You want help?”

“Yes please.”

The two of them got to work quickly crafting palm sized snowballs, moving much faster than the others.

“That wrist thing isn't holding you back!”

“I told you, it's better now. I just don't want to run around and risk it just yet.”

“We have enough anyway. They're making huge ones but they won't last.”

He took her hands and stood up, shivering as the wind hit them from behind.

“I'm freezing! Feel my hands,” Tom placed one hand on her cheek, taking one of hers in the other, “I've got cold hands like you.”

“You do! Thankfully I know how to help you out.”

“Oh? Wha-”

Clove took them and slid them under her pants, feeling a chill through her body as he squeezed her booty with both hands, pulling her close to him.

“Better?”

“Clove, I don't know why you're like this,” he locked his eyes with hers, his breath forming clouds as he took his voice to a low whisper, “But god, I love you.”

She laughed, sweet and quiet, tossing one arm behind his neck as she combed the other through his hair and leaned in, meeting his lips with the warmth and fervor only her kisses could supply.

“You wearing shorts under this?”

“It's freezing!”

“I wasn't criticizing, just asking. You do know that literally any one of them can look over here and see me touchin’ your booty, right?”

“Fine, ruin all of my fun.”

“You know what, love? This might just be my snow magic.”

“Mine ended when you were mean to me about wearing shorts under my jeans.”

Tom rolled his eyes and chuckled, elbowing her playfully.

Clove lost her balance and toppled into the pile of snow, her eyes wide as if she’d just been forcefully shoved. Dramatically, she flopped back into the blanket of snow next to her and screeched.

“Whoa!” Andy called from across the lawn, sprinting over and immediately kneeling next to her.

“You okay? What happened?”

“Nothi-” Tom began, quickly being cut off.

“I've been…” She clutched her chest, “We’ve been betrayed.”

Andy jolted his head to peer at Tom, pretending to speak into a spyware piece on his watch, “Command? This is Andy. No, Andy Kang. Yeah, Kang. We’ve been compromised.”

Parker jogged over, ducking behind the remnants of the igloo, “Did I hear we’ve been compromised?”

“What?” Tom blurted, “Parker, you're on my team.”

“I don't know you.”

“He doesn't know you,” Andy insisted, “We don't know you.”

“Then how did I betray you?”

“You're admitting that you're the one who murdered our princess?”

“She's not dead!”

“She's dead,” Andy insisted, looking to Clove, who slammed her eyes shut and stuck her tongue out.

“She's definitely dead.”

Tom shook his head, stifling laughter, “Fine. Yes. I am the killer. But even in this three against one battle-”

“Two against one,” Parker exclaimed, folding his arms.

“Yeah, two against one. You killed the princess.”

“In this two against one battle, I will reign victorious.”

Tom filled his arms with the snowballs he and Clove rolled, running to take station behind a nearby tree.

“This is gonna be easy,” Andy smiled, “He's a weak target.”

“He is not,” Clove whispered, “He's way stronger than he looks.”

“Trust me, Clove. I've snow battled this guy before, every year since we were kids. And know who wins? Me. Ever heard of the Westchester Snow Games?”

“No?”

“Yeah exactly, because Tom loses every year.”

“Fair enough. Do I have to lay here the whole time?”

“Hell yeah, Clove! You chose this for yourself.”

“Hey! What's taking so long? Picking your wedgies?” Tom called from behind the tree, throwing a snowball that whacked into Parker's shoulder.

“You're a grown man and you're making wedgie jokes?”

Everyone turned to see Imogen and Danni returning from their cocoa run, a look of amusement on Danni's face. “Really, Clove? You’re with this guy? Does he laugh at poop jokes too.”

“Depends, mostly if it's about constipation.”

“Clove!”

“What? It's true!”

“Okay!” Andy shouted, one hand whisking a cocoa from Imogen, taking a gulp before wincing, “I just burned my tongue. Anyway! We gotta set some rules. Who is on Tom's team?”

Nobody moved or spoke, eyes darting around the field.

“Alright,” Andy laughed, “Tom against everyone.”

“Oh, come on!” Tom threw his arms in the air, huffing, “I'm gonna remember this next time one of you jerks call me with computer problems.”

“Suck it up, Tomoichi. Why is Clove laying in the snow?” Danni asked, finding a space on an empty bench to set the remaining cups of cocoa.

“Tom killed her. She's the princess.”

“He killed the princess?!” Imogen yelled, clutching her chest, “TAKE HIM DOWN!”

“Wait!” Andy held his arm out to halt movement, “We need a safe word!”

“Clove, didn't you tell me you and Tom have a safe word?” Imogen asked.

“Yeah, it's, ‘Mario.’” Tom murmured nonchalantly.

“Tom!”

“What? It's true.”

“This is great and all but right now I'm having too many weird visuals of my best friend needing a safe word for...surprising sexcapades...and not enough victory calls!” Andy shook his head, “The safe word is, ‘Frosty.’”

Parker snorted, his hand covering his mouth as he stifled a laugh.

“Are you laughing at that stupid joke?” Danni teased, punching Parker in the arm.

“It's just too good.”

Andy shot Parker a wink, turning back around to yell, “TAKE HIM DOWN!"

All at once, Tom sprinted behind the tree, hurdling snowballs at the others as they struggled to ball more fast enough.

Andy and Parker worked as a team, filling Parker's linked arms with snow. Parker sprinted over, dumping the trough of snow down Tom's back, running away too quickly for him to have any kind of payback.

“Foul! I call foul!”

“What?!” Andy called over, refilling Parker's arms.

“Parker can not cross my territory to sabotage me!”

“You didn't care too much about sabotage when you killed the princess!” Imogen cackled, tossing a snowball right at Tom, who dove out of the way in perfect timing.

“So anything goes, then?”

“Basically!”

Tom hid behind the tree, hands on his knees as he caught his breath and scanned his mind for ideas. He peeked around, seeing the others mercilessly building fire power, and caught Clove's eye from the sidelines.

He smiled and waved, shrugging it off when she mouthed, “Sorry.”

He cupped his hands around his mouth and responded wordlessly, mouthing back, “Anything goes!”

Clove furrowed her brow before a wide grin spread across her lips, beginning to gather the snow all around her, forming it into the base of a snowman.

Yes! Tom thought, counting to thirty before jumping out, pummeling snowballs at Parker and Andy as they shielded the girls from the crossfire.

The field filled with laughter and shrieks, the sound of crushing snow beneath their boots and against their coats hung in the air like a song.

After running out of snowballs, Tom fell to his knees in dramatized defeat, crying out, “FROSTY!”

Andy and the others hopped over, shaking handfuls of snow over Tom, covering him completely.

With all four of them close together, Clove lifted the massive snowman base she’d been crafting and stood behind them.

Tom started to chuckle, catching the others off guard.

“Oh, Andy.”

“What's that look for, Tom?”

“You dug your own grave.”

Clove wound her arms back and tossed the ball, snow hitting three backs and exploding as Tom screamed, “ANYTHING GOES, FUCKERS!”

Andy, Parker, and Imogen lay in the snow, giggling profusely, trying to catch their breaths as Danni retreated to her hot chocolate, her laughs causing more steam in the air than the cocoa itself.

“Crown me!” Tom ordered, kicking Andy playfully in the side, “And one for my snow queen.”

Andy got to his feet, still chuckling as he shook his head.

“I hereby crown you winner of the Pine Springs Snow Games,” he turned to Clove, “Clove, not Tom because he lost and she's the one with the sneak attack!”

“I am honored!”

“All hail the snow queen!”

“Long may she reign!” Danni giggled, wrapping Clove in a hug.

Imogen rushed over and wedged her arms within theirs, a soft smile and an, “I love you guys,” as a reminder of how happy the moment had been, screaming and red faces included.

Clove broke away, kissing each of their cheeks before making her way over to Tom.

“Hey!”

“Hey,” he grinned, straightening his glasses.

“Good thinking out there.”

“Nothing but the best regeneration spell for my love,” he smiled, lifting her into the air, “Such a strong queen, too. I was shocked.”

“Guess I forgot to mention that I pump iron in my spare time.”

“...There's a joke in there that I'm gonna look past.”

“You'd better, Frosty the snow Tom.”

He blushed as he set her down, shaking his clothes of the remaining flurries.

“Your wrist lifted that massive thing, did it hurt at all?”

“Nope. Know what that means? I can clobber you tomorrow.”

“Oh no, I am not having a repeat of this. Always a jester, never a king.”

“For what it's worth, you'll always be my snow king.”

Clove stood on her toes, her frozen fingers warming on the surface of his cheeks, their lips entangling in a loving kiss.

She stuffed his hands into his coat pocket, shivering heavily as she warmed them with his.

They watched as Andy and Parker started to walk toward the bench, arm in arm.

“What's up with those two?” Clove asked, “Andy said anything?”

Just then, Parker unlinked their arms, lacing his fingers with Andy's.

“About that much,” Tom sighed.

“Parker looks at him like he's the world.”

“That...sounds familiar. Why the hell does it make so much sense?”

“Why do we? Why does anyone? When you know...you know.”

Clove's fingers walked down Tom's arm, taking his own fingers into hers.

“Let's go ask if they want pizza.”

“We had pizza yesterday.”

“I don't know why you say that like it's gonna stop me,” Clove shrugged, kissing Tom's cheek before running ahead.

He grinned as he followed behind, stopping just for a second at the faintest glimmer emitting from where Clove had been laying during the snow battle. He leaned over and chuckled at the numerous hearts she’d stamped into the snow, snapping a picture with his phone.

“What is it with magic on snow days?” He asked himself, and made his way over to his quirky, goofy, wacky, wonderful group of friends.

[traveling-madness]

everything for shi(t)p(ost) :)

 @lyesander you asked on anon and then openly told me it was you come forward. Anyway this is under the cut because it got. Really long.

- How do they fall asleep? Wake up? Any daily rituals?a. You know how kittens pile on top of each other? Usually they sleep like that. b. Clara wakes up at 5am in the morning, Craig does…not do that, She makes breakfast goes for a run showers and is usually gone for work before he’s even halfway awake and on one hand he hates that but on the other being awake before 7 is too haaarrrd. c. She also leaves him notes every morning but usually the note asks him to do at least one thing and that’s so much work :(.

- How’s their team work? Do they share well?a. Depends on what the teamwork is for. b. Sharing love? Yea. Sharing blankets/the tv/ Clara’s attention? Craig.exe has stopped.

- Are they open about their relationship? How do they feel about public displays of affection?a. Clara at everyone she knows: “This is my boyfriend and I love him.” Craig at everyone he doesn’t know, strangers, baristas, waiters, gas station employees: “This is my girlfriend she loves me.” b. They aren’t gross teens making out in public but they are holding hands or her arm is around him or he is sprawled across her lap in a booth at Burger King.

- First impression of each other? Was it love at first sight?a. He called her sexually frustrated and she punched him in the fucking face. b. It was Not.

- Nicknames? Pet names? Any in-jokes?Clara calls him shitlord and their in-jokes are strangely specific memelike phrases and things like Clara still having a plastic poop emoji from Mcdonalds glued to her dashboard.

- Any tasks that are always left to one person?Clara has taken full responsibility for loading the dishwasher and taking out the trash. Craig is in charge of making dinner at LEAST once a week and unloading the dishwasher after it’s done. They switch off on everything else by which I mean Clara does most of it.

- What annoys them the most about their partner? Would they change it if they could?a. Clara’s least favorite thing about Craig is he doesn’t do jack shit and she is significantly worried about his lack of motivation. Craig’s least favorite thing about Clara is that she smells like wet dog but other than that she loves him and so she must not have any flaws. b. They’d both change these things, Clara for Craig’s own good and Craig also for his own good.

- What do they like best about their partner?‘Willing to date me’ is pretty high on both of their lists. On a more lighthearted note they have a lot of similar interests, they’re good at bouncing humor off each other, and they can both provide the amount of affection the other one needs (which is… a lot).

- Do they discuss big issues? Religion? Marriage? Children? Death?Mmmm kind’ve? Religion isn’t hugely important to either of them. It’s pretty clear that they want to get married at some point but It only came up once when Clara was on pain killers. Clara can’t have kids and that’s fine neither of them have an interest in parenting. Death, no, they don’t talk about that because thinking about it is terrible.

- Who drives? Cooks? Does the handiwork? Cleans? Pays the bills? Handles the public?a. Clara. b. Both of them but Craig more often because he does not have a fucking job. c. Depends on the job; Clara fixes what she knows how to and Craig is tasked with figuring out the rest, which he can do, he just doesn’t want to. d. Almost exclusively Clara. e. Clara. f. Both of them but Craig is actually better at it when he wants to be.

- Do they celebrate holidays? Anniversaries?Yes, to both. A lot of holidays are spent at Sketch’s company parties, (or more accurately his mom’s company parties.) They haven’t actually had their first anniversary yet but that’s coming up and will probably be cute as shit.

- Is there a wedding? What was the proposal like? Any kind of honeymoon?There hasn’t been yet but like let’s be honest it’s a solid ‘probably.’ Not anytime imminently soon though.

- What do they do for fun? Do they have a favorite activity or do they like to switch things up?Video games and movie nights are probably the most common. Mostly because they cost the least amount of money and take the least amount of effort. Sometimes they get crazy and go to an arcade or go bowling. Or to the Y across town because swimming is one of the few things that involve physical activity that Craig actually likes doing and Clara will capitalize on that as much as possible.

- Anything they both dread?The other one dying/disappearing, which sounds obvious but sometimes it gets to the point where Clara is overwhelmingly paranoid about leaving the room for a few minutes because what if he gets sucked back into his own dimension and she never sees him again?? That and part of Craig has flat out convinced himself that that Clara is a godsend and he couldn’t survive life without her. (He could but try convincing him that his worth isn’t dependent on people loving him)

- How adventurous are they?Their most adventurous moment so far was exploring an old abandoned military fort in the town Clara used to live in.

- Do they keep secrets? Lie? Cheat? Secrets/lies like Craig sometimes still skims her diary or Clara blaming farts on the dog. Or when Craig says he ‘forgot’ to do what ever chore he was supposed to do that day when in reality he just made a conscious choice not to do it. Or when Clara doesn’t tell him she’s disappointed that he’s not doing anything with his time because she doesn’t want to sound like rev!Clara. Neither of them would cheat on the other one though. Ever. 

- What would make them break up? Would it be permanent?a. Craig doing something to ruin her career so she wouldn’t have any reason to leave his side for more than an hour at a time ever. b. in a healthy world yea but it wouldn’t actually be because a week later she’d be like “oh no you’re still crying… I don’t forgive you but you are sad so I’ll pretend it doesn’t matter : (”

- What are their dates like? How long do/did they date? Do they ever feel the need to take a break from each other?a. When they do go out it’s pretty eclectic; anything from going to an arcade to setting up a candle lit dinner… in a burger king. b. They’ve been dating since last May and that’s not going to change any time soon c. No. Never. At all. It’s probably kinda unhealthy.

- What do they fight about? What are their arguments like? How do they make up?a. Craig doing something stupid. Clara saying something sarcastically that sounds a little too close to rev!Clara’s go-to drags. Craig not having a job vs. Clara putting in way too much time that she doesn’t have to a her job. b. Clara is almost always the one to actually address the problem, and puts a lot of planning into how she phrases the conversation. Craig is… capable of having those conversations, but his go to approach is more along the lines of vying for pity based attention because he knows if she feels bad for him she won’t actively be angry, he’s not even always conscious of doing it, and it’s usually on impulse. This is starting to improve, and Clara’s gotten much better at recognizing and addressing it. Unlearning toxic shit takes time but she’s still gonna call him out on it. c. Parroting ‘I-love-you’s back and forth while sometimes crying. Usually a good few hours chilling on the couch watching movies. Whoever was wronged picks the movie and whoever fucked up makes dinner- that’s not a rule it’s more of an unspoken agreement. 

- What does their home look like? Their room?Bad. Not the actual apartment like it’s a pretty nice apartment they’re just both shitty at cleaning. See also:Mads-02/28/2018 he lives in a house full of dog fur and grease stains lye-02/28/2018 doesn’t mean he likes it but he’s also too lazy to clean it himself so it’ll be likeclara: (comes home from work)craig: your house is grossclara: then clean it you slut.

- Do they share any interests or hobbies?Vidya game. They’re both roller coaster fanatics also. Those are the biggest things that they both really like independently but also when you spend enough time with someone you love some of the things they like will start to remind you of them to the point you like them vicariously. The best example I can give is Clara used to hate the fucking Hallmark channel in all it’s heteronormative glory but now she actually enjoys like at least three of the movies. Maybe four.

- Does their work ever interfere with the relationship?Craig’s LACK of work does, it’s something Clara is really, REALLY frustrated over and she’s still a little unsure how to convey that without it coming off guilt tripping. At the same time Clara works overtime much more often than Craig would like, which is to say more than once or twice a month. He’s not any better at addressing this than she is though, he tends to do shit like pretend to be sick or actually make himself sick (the latter only once at least) so she’ll stay home.

- How do they hug? Kiss? Tease? Flirt? Comfort?Hugs have a 60 second absolute minimum in this household. Kisses have a two second record minimum but it’s usually at least 5. They are absolute dicks to each other but 99.9% of the time it’s fully communicated to be just that. Teasing. Flirting is terrible romantic gestures are go big or go home. Unless you count Clara making the WORST romance puns and Craig holding up his phone sometimes with ‘love my gf’ memes and going “that’s us babe!” or the one time he tried to lay seductively across the table when Clara got home and her immediate response is “So I guess we’re ordering take out again?” Comforting is either ‘I will hold you for 17 hours non-stop’, ‘you like food right? I’ll make some food’, or both.

- Any doubts about the relationship?Not that they don’t tune out and bury as deep down as possible!

- How much time do they spend together? Do they share their feelings, or hold things in?a. As Much As Possible. Another thing that’s not entirely healthy. b. They share most feelings, until it’s something negative and significant about the other, then they aren’t so good at it. Working on it, but not good at it.

- How do their friends feel about their relationship? Their families?Craig was the one who told Sketch at least because Clara genuinely could not figure out how. I’m assuming the question means like, mutual friends. Clara’s family is touch and go, not too big on Once-lers in general. Her mom likes Craig a lot though and her dad tolerates him which is saying something. Craig’s family doesn’t exist in this universe. 

- Do they have kids? Grow old together? Split up?¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Well actually I can say for certain they don’t have kids. Clara physically can’t have kids, or at least not safely, and more importantly can you imagine either of these fucking losers trying to parent anything? Terrifying.

- What are their vacations like?The closest thing to a vacation they’ve gone on is driving like 2 hours to Rhode Island/Connecticut once and then another 2 hours to Vermont for Thanksgiving.

- How do the handle disasters or emergencies? Minor injuries? Sickness?Bad. Mostly because if and when anything bad happens to one of them, the other subsequently flips shit. Clara is a little better at flipping shit INTERNALLY, but don’t let her fool you she is very stressed over her boyfriend coming down with the common cold and yes she DOES need to go home over her lunch break to check on him and NO she is not babying him what the fuck are you talking about.

- Could they manage a long distance relationship?They would INSIST that they can, and maybe they could for a few weeks, but after that things would go pretty bad pretty fast.

- Do they finish each other’s sentences? Pick up any phrases or habits from each other? Know when the other is hiding something?a.They are the couple that would attempt to finish each other’s sentences but fail horribly. Like, really badly, like, inserting words that don’t even make sense badly. “We finish each others-” “Chores, so you’ll clean the kitchen so I can go watch Pretty Woman while it’s on Starz? Thanks!”  “No!”b. Ok so Craig is from Texas, very rural tiny ass town in Texas, and unlike Sketch he has done next to nothing to not SOUND like someone from a very rural tiny ass Texas town. After living with him for several months Clara now says y’all’d’ve, y’all’d’n’t’ve, I’d’n’t’ve, and both ain’t and y’ain’t entirely unironically. She very rarely realizes this is happening. c. Clara knows because she’s good at reading people, Craig knows because he’s good at still occasionally reading her diary and just not telling her.

- Do they ever get into trouble? Is it serious, or are they just mischievous?They have had to climb a fence and bail halfway through a game of paintball because Craig shot a kids father who was NOT in the game.

- What kind of presents do they get each other? Do they only do it on special occasions?Craig goes with chocolate because that’s yet to fail, that and just, money he talks Sketch into giving him. Sketch has a habit of giving Clara money and she won’t accept it from him without a fight so at this point he’s reached a state of “I’ll give it to you IF you give it to Clara/put it towards food/rent.”Clara spoils the SHIT out of Craig now that she has a steady job and income. She has gotten him, so far, A Nintendo Switch, an Xbox 1s, and a fucking PS4. Now it should be noted that she also has unlimited access to all of these and tends to beat him at most games played on them, so the selflessness of buying them is debatable.

- Do they have any pets?Sticks!!! But he’s really just Clara’s dog that Craig lives with because being provided with love and affection from Clara is worth being allergic to her dog apparently.

- Do they bring out the best in each other, or the worst? Do they have a fatal flaw?It’s tough to say whether it’s their BEST qualities, but overall they bring out more good in each other than bad. I’m not sure about a fatal flaw but a pretty big one is just, not addressing negative emotions around any aspect of their relationship enough out of fear of losing each other. They aren’t the picture of a perfect relationship by any means either, Clara has an obsession with feeling needed and depended on, and because of this is a massive enabler who pretty much does everything for him. Including things he can very easily do himself. Craig, who doesn’t want to do jack shit and constantly needs to be loved and validated, is very ok with this.

- What’s their greatest strength as a couple? Their weakness?This sounds really disgustingly cheesy but listen they are very in love. Like frighteningly dedicated to one another in love. This is a double edged sword. 

- How much would they be willing to sacrifice for the other? Any lines they refuse to cross?They would deadass take a bullet for each other they are Ride Or Die™ let’s be real.

- What are they like in the bedroom? Any kinks/fetishes/turn-ons? Anything they won’t do?a. Uhhh synopsis; Craig’s a sex positive ace and Clara was a virgin until age 26. They are,, I think my most vanilla ship actually? If that says anything lmao. Other than Craig crying after sex on occasion. Lots of eye contact and being as close to each other as possible, less sex more ‘cuddling but with orgasms’. b. Craig has a fucking praise kink and Clara just so happens to never shut up when it comes to giving said praise so jot that down. c. Refer to a, there’s a shit ton of stuff they won’t do I’m too lazy to list all of it.  Listen anyone who actually cares can send asks to my nsfw blog because like. I know the answers. It’s probably sad how many answers I’m equipped to give here.

- Who initiated the relationship? Who kissed who first?  When did they realize they we’re in love?a/b. That’d be Craig who kicked off the relations hip with the class act of asking “hey wanna make out?” c. That’s not something that happens all at once, for anyone really. It’s a slow realization of ‘oh fuck I’m in love I guess.’

- Any special memories? Do they have a special place they like to go to?Define special because the most prominent memories are of shit like jumping the fence at the paintball place or the time Craig pretended to drown. Also the first time Clara said “I love you” then immediately buried it in a mouthful of spaghetti. 

- Are they party-goers? What are they like when they’re drunk? Does it happen often?Nah, other than like, holiday company parties they get invited to. Clara doesn’t drink at all anymore, or at least not without strong supervision, and she definitely doesn’t get drunk anymore. Craig’s just not crazy about alcohol in general, unless it’s got a gallon of sugar it doesn’t even taste good. 

- Do they let each other get away with things that would normally bother them?Constantly. There’s some stuff that Clara will draw the line on, and that’s usually when it’s a manipulative situation. But we all know that Craig will put up with just about any shit if it means validation and attention. THIS Clara doesn’t give him too much shit to put up with though, she just kinda smells like wet dog.

- Do they talk often? What about?Yea but not always about things the need to. They talk about their days or plans for the next week or how they’re doing in general, and they will delve into some levels of sharing insecurities but like I said there’s definitely some things they should talk about but haven’t.

- Are the comfortable with each other? Anything they have to have their privacy for?Maybe there was some need for privacy for the first month of living together but honestly at this point “Clara I ate half a pint of ice-cream and on a very related note we are out of toilet paper” is just commonplace conversation. They will hang out for an entire day sitting on the couch eating corn chips wearing each others sweatpants like it’s safe to say they’re comfortable.

- Any special dreams or goals they have as a couple? Any heartbreaks? Regrets?They both wanna marry each other like a lot, like I’m surprised it hasn’t come up more because let’s be honest it’s harder to leave someone when you have to go through a bunch of legal paperwork-. I think the most heartbreaking thing is that all of Craig’s family and friends live in an alternate plane of reality that it seems like there’s no way of getting back to, and if there WAS a way of getting back that would mean choosing between his home and his Clara, who is much better than the Clara back home. There’s some regrets in the making with the whole Clara not sitting down and telling Craig he NEEDS to get a fucking job.