sniffle-elf

[sniffle-elf]

Inconvenient Paws (Mar/vel -S/am+Bu/cky)

Request fic for @buckysnose 🥹 in which S/am and Bu/cky find a cat and need to find it a new home. Bu/cky is Very Allergic but Very Attached 🤭 Buckle up, because this got quite indulgent at the end. Hope you enjoy <3!

Sam sets his coffee cup down and braids his fingers together with a tipped smirk. “Whaddaya think?” The sun gleams in the rim of the ceramic mug outside the shop they've chosen to hash out their most recent mission--it's an old coffee and teahouse (The GoodBake) but they've never tried it before. Sam likes the outdoor seating: minimalism with metal tables and chairs and square bushes for faux privacy. Bucky isn't as much of a fan.

Bucky stares over his own frillier, rose-painted teacup, his RBF solid as stone. “That’s a terrible idea.” 

“You always say that.”

Bucky lifts a marbled shoulder, lids fluttering with a huff, “If you stopped having bad ideas, I’d stop saying it.”

“Ouch,” Sam crosses one leg over the other and presses a hand over his heart, “Offense. Very homophobic of you.”

“It’s not June anymore. You can stop using that.” Bucky blows on his steeping tea, “It’s disability month, so it’s my turn.”

“Fair. Then I--”

A crash has them both wrenching back from the table as a glossy white cat lands on the round mesh, making the cups quake and the liquid within ribbon angrily. One perfect paw plunks into Sam’s coffee cup and he swears. “Hey! Aw man!” 

The cat spears him with an indignant look, blue eyes flashing as if daring him to complain about being inconvenienced by its presence. He doesn’t have a moment to react before the door of the shop is thrown open in a flurry.

A woman with a low bob and a bad attitude painted as thick as the slash of plum lipstick on her lips stands there, wielding a broom like a broadsword.

“Git!” she caws, waving the bristled weapon toward the cat. “GIT!” 

The cat’s fur poufs up and it lets out a fearful hiss. Both men fly to their feet, the other patrons looking on in concern as she rounds on the trembling feline.

Sam’s arm wings out just as the cat leaps from the metal perch with enough force to rock its already warbling legs so hard the cups topple over, spilling the cat-foot-coffee and Bucky’s tea. 

“Whoa hey,” Sam calls as Bucky backs away in the direction of the cat, “hold up a minute--”

“That monster--” the lady shakes her broom toward the cat and Bucky’s shoulders contract at the word, “keeps breaking into my cupboard! Stealing biscuits!”

“It’s probably hungry,” Sam turns to peek at Bucky now making tiny kissing noises at the chalkboard sign where the animal chose to hide from the angry shopkeeper. Another noise escapes the Winter Soldier’s lips that sounds adjacent to: “Sshd’z!”

Broom bristles tickle Sam's cheek and he snaps back to knock the handle aside with a scornful huff, “Damn, lady, look,” he bats the air, “we’ll get the cat out of here, okay?”

She stares at him, eyes a burst of manic green. “Then do it fast--and make sure it doesn’t come back!”

“Alright, alright!” Sam snaps, denying her any more of his time. He spins to check on Bucky who is now using the hem of his shirt to wipe his nose, a flash of scarred ribs briefly making Sam’s gaze linger. 

He swallows thickly as if a strawberry were lodged in his throat and he places a hand on Bucky’s fleshy shoulder. “Hey,” he sees the cat shadowed by the roof of the hidey hole and frowns. “Is it okay?”

“Nh, yeah, I think so.” Bucky places a treat on the ground and coos at the cat.

“Where’d you get those?” Sam’s voice is heavy with surprise and Bucky shushes him.

“Shh! You’re gonna scare-hh-HgXsch! Sndf! Scare her…”

“Out of the two of us, I think you’re the scarier one. Especially making that kind of racket.” Sam blinks a minute to process, “Wait, her?” 

Bucky shrugs nonchalantly and saws his hand across his face.

 Sam waves him off and kneels. “Let me take over. C’mere sweets, tnt tnt tnt…” he clicks at the feline but it buries itself further into the shadows and rumbles meekly at him.

“She doesn’t like…hhGsKng! Krff…strandgers…” Bucky snuffles, his adam’s apple raking down his throat as it thickens with congestion.

Sam stands swiftly and pins him with a look now. “Wait, you keep saying ‘she’, and…do you know this cat?”

“I…” Bucky reddens and Sam isn’t sure whether it’s from embarrassment or the clearly evident building, flaring, itching-- “Ht’SH-Rtsh-GSH!” he spritzes his fist with three sharp but tiny sneezes and sways slightly. 

“You’re allergic to the cat.” Sam deadpans.

“All…cats…” Bucky murmurs. 

“But you’ve been feeding her.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” 

The soldier doesn’t respond with more than his stoic stare. Sam sighs and washes a palm over his face. This guy…

“Well, she clearly wants you, and we’re going to have to take her to a shelter. You’re gonna be miserable the whole time. You know that’s your own fault, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Of course you do,” Sam whips out his phone, “Let me find a shelter.”

“Make sure it’s safe,” Bucky says as he swaps places with Sam to coax the cat toward him. 

“Safe?”

“Like,” Bucky knuckles his nose, “their policies--”

“Dude,” Sam snaps, “do you think I’m an asshole??”

“Ndo, I just…c’mbere Alpine…”

“Alpine?”

“Shut up.”

Sam snorts and then flips his phone around, “Alright I found a place and it’s just a few blocks away. We could walk there.” 

“Andother onde of your less than stdellar ideas,” Bucky sniffles as he offers Alpine his metal arm. She chirps at him, only looking mildly offended that she won’t get to climb human flesh before curling into the crook of his elbow.

“You better back off of my ideas, man. I’ll dangle you by your legs.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, clearing his nose with a heavier sniff. “Is that a proposition?” He uses his free hand to massage his temples, feeling the cottony cloud of histamines dulling his senses. He gives his head a little shake and it makes his legs wobble slightly.

“Dude,” Sam braces him with a warm hand on his back, “you are not okay. Your face looks like a Louisiana swamp.”

“I love how handsome you make me feel.”

“Happy to help. Let’s go before you literally dissolve.”

“Mmff…”

They get two blocks with Bucky sneezing more frequently every ten steps. His hand has barely left his pink, buttony nose and his upper lip is shiny with residue. Sam is both surprised at the calmness of the cat and amused at the passersby reacting to a buff man with a superarm holding what looks like The Queen’s Prized Feline tucked elegantly against his chest, sneezing his head off. 

It makes it hard not to constantly crack jokes. “Gotta say I like you better this way. Much better. Can’t finish your annoying sentences or argue about my superior ideas.”

“Are you going to let things go? Ever?”

“Give me ah…hundred years?”

Bucky opens his mouth to retort but instead draws in a hiss of air. “Hhh-hgk--”

Sam pauses, mouth quirking as he watches the struggle. Bucky’s free hand creeps closer and closer to his face but his nose tilts up with every hitch, a subconscious thing, and it ends up becoming a chase between his hand and face. “Hieh--” nose, “Heh!” hand…

Until finally, Sam reaches out and presses his palm flat against the back of Bucky’s hand, thrusting it just so and unleashing a burst of air, “HRESHHUUU!!” 

“That one sounded 100 years in the making.”

“Eghh…” Bucky fumbles one-handed into his pocket for a pack of tissues. Sam finds he never gets tired of watching Bucky do things with one hand so dexterously. It's impressive as fuck how he maneuvers the tiny pack fluidly between his fingers, ripping it open with the middle one and snaking out two cloths in a pinch. 

Bucky clears his congestion and that actually makes the cat squeak in surprise. 

Sam laughs so bubbly it almost sounds like a giggle. “Mother fuckin’ Bucky Barnes…allergic to cats. What a trip.”

“Gfh…you really can stop talking any time. Seriously.”

“The Winter Soldier’s Kryptonite.”

“I’ll pay you in disney pins. Snf…You like those, right?”

“Who knew the way to red light your murder sprees was to drop a litter of furballs on--”

“I have the original Steamboat Mickey--all yours if you can shut--”

They both cease as soon as they see the shelter. It’s not a happy silence. 

“Is this the place?” Bucky asks as Sam checks the GPS. 

“Uhh, yes…” Sam says unfortunately. 

Bucky pulls the cat closer to his chest, her left paw pressing against him as if sensing his discomfort. “I don’t like it.”

“There are maybe 5 things in existence you do like. And I assume one of them is that damn cat.”

“HKSF!” 

“Dude, you’re turning redder than that firetruck we passed. Maybe we should just…check?”

Bucky’s metal arm jerks back instinctively but it’s not that bad on the outside. Maybe they just haven’t repainted. 

They approach the dim windowed door, Sam checking the app one more time to make sure it said OPEN. Bucky knocks with the back of his knuckles and then hoods his eyes with the slant of his palm to squint inside. 

“Well it looks closed--” Sam begins but Bucky snaps the lock, prompting a wheezing sound from Sam, but the soldier presses on, his eyes roaming the now evidently abandoned building. 

Sam calls in that he's going around the back to check for an alternate entrance and Bucky waves him off.

The soldier wanders the musty building, cupping Alpine firmly to him, lips razor thin as his sniffles echo through the room, seeking any sign of where to go next: a flier, phone number, anything. 

He stops at the clerical desk where dust and rubble from construction has accumulated and lets Alpine down to daintily pad over the musty marble, leaving perfect pawprints behind like tracks in snow. 

Bucky lifts a sheaf of paper and sniffles--at the wrong moment. The puff of dust buffets around him and he grimaces, face crumpling with a flood of stimuli. 

“Hih-ih--! S-shit…” the paper crinkles in his galvanized fist and he crushes the whole mass against his face like a tissue, “Sk'dch! Eih-KSHh-gh!” The sounds bounce off the walls, warping the air as they grow in ferocity, “Hsh-SHjk! Shk-Hsk-IshFSH!! Rrr-EISHHuue!”

Alpine begins to growl and caterwaul, head dipping fearfully as Bucky gasps for air. He tries to reassure her through raspy wheezes but she’s not afraid of him. And he soon realizes what she’s warning him about.

“Oh fu--”

An earsplitting crack! above him triggers an adrenaline-fueled gut reaction and he does two things in the following seconds: he throws his metal arm over Alpine to protect her; and he turns up his super-soldier-infused arm to catch the massive segment of splintered joists and rock of the overhead building careening down to crush them both. 

The split piece of ceiling halts in his outstretched hand, only quaking his muscles a hare. 

“Hrg--Sam!” 

The falcon speeds inside--was already returning when he heard the first sign of collapse.

“Oh no, no, hell no,” his eyes take in the Atlas situation with the addition of a startled and caterwauling feline snugglebugging so hard into Bucky that she’s attempting to pass through his body like a ghost. 

“Okay, let me get someone to--”

“S-Sam, wait,” Bucky’s chest heaves, throat grating with effort and Sam’s pulse thunders in his throat. 

“Oh, don’t you dare tell me I’m about to have to lift that thing off you, that is cement!”

“My t-turn for a hhhvv--bad idea…”

“Son of a--come on,” Sam flings his arms up, giving a frustrated huff. “Just, hang on,” Sam sprints around the room, brain whirring as he looks for a solution--any solution that doesn’t involve him having to lift hell knows how many tons of random construction--

“S-Sam!” Bucky hollers, voice low and carnal, “I’m gonna sneeze r-real soon, and it’s not gonna be once, hihf.. so if you would so snf kindly remove the giant...heh!”

“I don’t have super strength, Bucky! I can’t just haul it off of you!”

“HgXSh!” Bucky’s shoulders shudder and the shard does as well, tiny pebbles clattering around them like hail.

Sam’s eyes nervously flick between it and Bucky below, muscles rippling with the weight. “Gimme the cat,” he says.

“Hwha?” Bucky sputters.

“Give me the damn cat, Buck.” He tries to nudge the cat but she grunts and stares at him with all the energy of an offended loaf of bread. 

“She doesn’t like you.”

“I don’t think that matters right now. You need both hands.” Sam folds his fingers around the cat and he can feel her body vibrate with the seething growl, claws clicking pointlessly into Bucky’s metal arm.

“She really doesn’t like..hh-d’Ch’GH!” Bucky’s head strikes the sinew of his stiff bicep smushing his face into the bulk of his arm to keep any followup sneezes at bay. His skin is shiny with the silk of moisture under his nose and he lets out small hitchy shivers that make more dust fan around them. 

“Hgk-KxNg'eh!” Bucky barely restrains himself, chest jarring with effort. Sam's heart plays a drumbeat on his ribcage as he moves against his panting partner.

The cat starts making warped mreUUWWW REUWWW noises as Sam tugs her away from Bucky’s chest. “She’s climbing up your pecs.”

“I can f-feel that,” Bucky grunts as Sam peels the cat off one razored nail at a time. 

Finally, the cat comes free and Sam tucks her in his arms, “Got her!” he skates across the room just as Bucky throws his tech arm up to catch the rubble. He groans, successfully chucking the debris from his overworked triceps.

As soon as he does, he takes a knee, disappearing in a cloud of cream colored dust and spills into both cupped hands, “H’tsh-RRsh! Fsh! DammihKXSH-eih!” 

Alpine squirms in Sam’s arms but he shushes her, fingers massaging a soft spot on her neck and she stills, finally beginning to purr. Sam’s chin tips down and he lets out a small chuckle. “Finally warming up to me, huh?”

She stares up at him and her pink tongue circles her lips innocently. 

“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t just hate me five seconds ago.” He checks back for Bucky who is standing now, brushing off dirt and grime, looking toward them with concern.

“Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. So am I by the way, but I know your lack of worry is because I’m so capable and not because you love this cat more than me.” 

“Sam…”

“C’mon, let’s get out of here before the whole place caves in.”

They get outside and Alpine immediately demands to be back in Bucky’s arms. Supposedly, she simply hates being outdoors and the stress is only soothed by being with her favorite Winter Soldier. So, Sam transfers her over with only a few claw marks and they cross the street, despair clinging to them like wet tar.

“Well, that was a disaster,” Sam kicks a pebble across the road. 

Bucky peers down at Alpine, his eyes welling with more than allergic tears now, so bright and fervent they’re practically glowing like sapphires. 

“What…do we do with her? I can’t just leave her on the street, Sam.” His face remains sober as steel but his voice cracks like fissured wood, sanded down by spirit and soul. 

“I…” Sam rubs the back of his neck, “I know we can’t do that. Maybe--”

“Excuse me,” a kind voice pulls them from their pensive thoughts. They turn to see a hawkish elderly woman in a long rosy gown and a pearly smile like a kindled hearth. 

“I overheard you boys, I’m sorry, but are you talking about your darling cat there?”

Bucky sniffles thickly and clears his throat with as much dignity as he can muster. “Yes ma’am.”

“Oh,” she presses a bony hand to her chest, face flitting with joy, “what an angel! If you need a home for that sweet pea, I have twelve children and thirty two grandchildren--” this statement makes Sam and Bucky share a wide-eyed look before politely returning their gaze to the fertile old lady, “...all adore animals. I’m certain I can find a loving home for…what did you name this beauty?”

“A-Alpine,” Bucky says, chest warming with hope.

“Darling,” The woman coos, “May I?” she extends her hand ever so slightly and Bucky bites his lip. But Alpine doesn’t resist so he nods and allows the woman to bury her fingers in the soft fur. “Ah, what a coat! She must be keeping healthy--that’s the first sign of decline, you know. The coat.”

Bucky’s heart picks up and Sam sees him visibly brighten. 

“So, young man, would you be willing to let me rehome her?”

“I…yeah. Would you?”

“Of course.” 

Bucky delicately transfers Alpine to the woman’s arms and while she’s less comfortable than she was in his embrace, she isn’t upset. It makes Bucky relax, his entire body static with relief. 

They bid the woman goodbye and thank her. Bucky watches Alpine start her new journey to her furever home, his left lip ticking up a crack.

She’ll be happy. Have a home. 

He feels Sam’s hands on his shoulder and back in both places he can feel them on his skin, the touch soothing and grounding. “It’s alright,” he murmurs, “She’s alright.”

Bucky nods. “Yeah.”

“And so are you.”

Bucky’s flesh hand slips into Sam’s and squeezes it, mixing their warmth. “Thanks.” He leans his head against the other man’s and smiles with both sides of his mouth. 

[sniffle-elf]

Have y’all ever resisted getting into something out of pure stubbornness? Like, people tell you that you would love it, and instead of embracing that your brain doubles down and goes ‘No, I won’t like that. In fact, I’m going to dislike it on principle!’

But then you decide to try it two years later, and it immediately becomes a hyperfixation and your life’s mission is to eatsleepbreathe it? But now! The people who enthused about it two years ago are over it, and onto something new?

That’s me right now, with G00d 0mens. My partner at the time was like ‘Oh babe you’ll love this!’ and my AuDHD brain went ‘No >:|’ and now nobody in my circle is into it anymore, and I just want to scream about it like a magpie with a shiny.

Anyway, I want to write Ineffable fic so maybe look forward to that? If anyone here still cares about a couple of Gay Ethereal Idiots lmao

[sniffle-elf]

[sniffle-elf]

Hiii I was wondering if I could join your discord serve 🙃

This is a few days old because I was in the process of moving but! Small anonymous friend, you are cute! But I don’t have a Discord server. You can add me on Discord tho!

ShadowTagged

This is an open offer to anyone who wants to make with the chittychats. As long as you’re not of the shark species, send me a friend request and we’ll do it up!

[sniffle-elf]

I knowwww how mia I’ve been but hear me out. A really pretty boy with “a little cold”

his low, soft scratchy voice speaking quietly into your ear, just congested enough to hear the warmth of his n’s and m’s

the tip of his nose feels damp against your neck as he stifles a quick sneeze into it

he’s not sick enough to be clingy, but he’s sleepy enough to not be able to sleep without you

soft sniffles and coughs muffled into the shoulder of his worn crew neck, which is paired with a soft pair of plaid pajama pants

his bed scattered with hardly-used tissues

enduring childhood comfort shows with him under a heavy, fluffy blanket

his quiet, hoarse chuckles as the corny scenes come on

the sounds of the gentle breaths escaping past his lips as he falls asleep, and the sight of his chapped, red nose and sleep-tousled hair poking out above the covers

[sniffle-elf]

Thanks for the tag @thelastplantagenet 😊💚

1. Do this uquiz.

2. Do this picrew.

3. Tag people.

feel free to play if you’d like :)

@buncha-angry-kids-with-no-money @thatoneandlonelyemo2005 @with-the-words-all-wrong

[sniffle-elf]

Y’all.

I don’t know if any of you are into the cozy game scene, but the new game Pa|ia has consumed my soul lately. And with that, of course, comes horny thoughts. Because… obviously.

To those of you unfamiliar with this game and it’s characters, let me introduce to you the two men who have taken up residence in my brain rent-free. Below the cut so I can write their names out proper. Also don’t expect much from this post because I’m doing it on mobile and I’m about ready to rip my hair out. I will go into more detail later when I can get on an actual PC.

First, we have Reth. Reth is the resident bad boy, according to him, and he’s the chef at the village inn. He loves soup which is just. Adorable. He doesn’t seem to sleep a lot, and works way too hard according to his sister. The potential there is just. Chef’s kiss. I’m currently romancing him in game, and he calls my character ‘Fancy Pants’.

Next, we have Hodari. Or, as the internet calls him, Hot Daddy. He’s a miner and a single father. Overprotective, kind of bad at communication, and blunt as hell. He spends a lot of his time in the cold, damp mines. So there’s that. I love him. You cannot romance him because the game devs hate me.

[sniffle-elf]

me when someone sneezes with their hands cupped over their mouth in real life: ugh ewww ew you touch things with those hands

me when someone writes some random guy doing it on tumblr.com: this is so fucking sexy. this is so fucking hot

[sniffle-elf]

Beckett: Adventures in Ghosting

Ready for more sneezy ghost adventures? Have more Beckett the groundskeeper with a ghost allergy!

I have a headcanon that these stories take place in the late 1800s but I haven't exactly done much research on that time period. Still. Enjoy!

Beckett wants nothing more than to burst into his cottage and throw himself on the squeaky bed. His legs ache from a day of digging, lawn care, and general mischief on the grounds. Today was…a bit different from a normal Friday.

Beckett shuffles inside, hangs up his hat, shucks his dirt-streaked coat, and sprawls on the wooden stool to remove his mud-flecked boots. 

He inwardly nags himself for making a mess of grass clippings and dirt chunks smudging the worn wood floors. But all Beckett can think about is sleep and how he wishes for more than four hours of sleep.

Alas, after a scrub down it’s already 2 AM when he finally sits on the mattress. He tucks himself under the thin wool coverlet. His lids are heavy and he feels his body relax, breath leaving him through his slightly stuffed nostrils. 

But…then…

“H-h! EGX’ieu!” 

He sniffles, blinking toward the closed cabin door with a glare. A familiar chill seeps toward him, icing the dampness in the floorboards near his boots. 

Couldn’t she have shown up a bit sooner? When I was fully dressed?

A sigh ripples through the cabin, and the wood seems to warp with it. 

Beckett groans, “I know.” He grumbles. “She didn’t come today.” He figured this would happen. But when the spirit didn’t seek him out by bedtime, he had hoped…

The wood groans for her. 

Beckett groans back. “It’s one Friday. Perhaps she had to postpone for other plans.”

No response this time but the chill clings to the air. Beckett rolls over, pulling the ratty blanket over his shoulder.

The temperature dips swiftly, a blast of icy air lashing the bare skin on his neck. Beckett shivers. His ears and nose start to grow cold as if he were out in the snow. 

His hand wanders to his face, cupping cool fingers over his nose and mouth as he sniffles back a sneeze. I cannot let her boss me around…

The window above his bed begins to spiderweb with crystals of ice. His blanket is barely doing anything. The spirit flows closer and Beckett finds himself muffling hitches into his palm.

“Hmf…Himf--HMNN--HMPFshhk! IggSHmk!! MSHHK!” 

Each sneeze causes him to squeeze his cheeks tighter, nose bumping into the flesh of his index finger. 

“Huggh…fine!” Beckett throws off the covers and swirls himself to touch his feet to the cold floor. He shuffles back to put his boots on and shoves the hat back on his head. They’re still muddy and flecked with grass and melted snow. 

A wall of icy air hovers just beside him, and he starts to shiver, the itching in his eyes, nose, and ears barely tolerable. He grabs his coat and gets one arm inside before he doubles over, “HRek-SHHH’EH!!” he stumbles slightly and wrenches the other sleeve onto his arm. 

“Give me some space, or I’ll be sneezing all night.” He peers out to the darkness. “If we are to do this, we must be as silent as possible. You know I cannot always hold them back.”

The spirit whooshes past him into the wintry air. 

Beckett knows very little about this spirit. Her grave is unmarked save for “in loving and grace", and her death date--5 years prior. Since her burial, a young woman has visited her grave every Friday, exactly at 5pm. 

Beckett does not know who it is. Friend? Family? A young Beckett once took a detour to the general store and passed her home once. It was a picket fence sort of home. The windows were dark when the woman was not home. This was the only investigation into her life that a curious Beckett had done without feeling intrusion. 

The spirit stays distant but if Beckett slows or strays from the correct path, she rushes him, throwing him into fits of stifled sneezes. “Hk-N! HNG-KX! Hek-NDT!” He pinches his nose and his fingers come away wet. 

They arrive at the walkway leading up to the house. The grass is already collecting dew, the baubles of liquid threading the lawn with moonlight.  

The spirit's presence moves away, gliding up the steps and through the closed door. Beckett waits, breath a chilly vapor below his nose.  He taps his foot, rocks back and forth on his heels, rubs hands over his arms, checks his watch. 

What’s taking so long?

A beam of light ravages his night vision and Beckett attempts to duck behind a bush but the movement pulls a yell from the approaching figure. 

“You there!” 

Beckett shudders as the man comes into view. A night officer. 

Well, biscuits. 

Beckett freezes, putting his shivering hands up. 

A man not much older than Beckett approaches, uniform crisp as if he had just begun his watch. His cheeks are long and round, eyes a light blue. He walks like someone accustomed to carrying weight. 

“I-I was-” Beckett curses himself. Why hadn’t he prepared a reason for being outside a young woman’s home after dark? “I…” Beckett realizes he’s been inching away from the house. 

The policeman stiffens and holds out his hand. 

“Step away from the home,” the officer demands. No ‘sir’, no respectful tone. Par for the course. 

Beckett moves away and the officer sweeps toward him, grasping Beckett’s arms and winding them behind his back. 

“What are--”

“Skulking about at night beneath a young lady’s window? We have been searching for the peeping tom for weeks.” The officer wrenches Beckett’s hands together. 

Cold metal encircles his wrists and Beckett’s heart speeds. 

“Th-this is a mistake. Sir, please…” his voice falls on deaf ears. “Igh-heh…” his nostrils flare wide and the brush of icy wind indicates the spirit’s return. Beckett’s eyes flutter and he squirms with the weight of need to rub the itch from his nose. “Eih-hih-heh!” 

The policeman only glares at him as he pulls out a notepad and pen. Beckett scrunches his face and drinks in wet sniffles. 

“I-please," Beckett squirms, teeth chitting with a grunt, "I n-need to…heih--sn-hhiee…” his lips seal and break apart, again and again, drizzles of air slipping into his throat. The policeman ignores his pleas. He will not be allowed to cover his expulsions. 

Beckett points his nose down, burying his chin in his collarbone. His chest shudders with gulping breaths. “Hih. Hieh. HEH-!” He grinds his chin into his neck, “IXST!" His jaw clenches with urgency, "ISZHhh! XSzz’SHUUU!” his body rocks forward and he stumbles, feet pattering the ground to catch himself before he falls. He pants, lips wet, nostrils damp, eyes streaming. He hopes the spirit will move away and give him some relief, but its presence does not waver. 

Why won’t she just…

The front door slams open and the two men swing their heads to see a silhouette standing atop the stairs. 

“Ma’am,” the officer tips his hat. “Forgive us for the commotion.”

Beckett opens his mouth, apologies flying to his lips, but his lungs fill instead. “Hih-HegxSH!” He forces his mouth to form words. “M-madam…HGSXH! I am so-HhhhSHhh-K! Sorry, I--hih-hieh!!” 

Cool cloth brushes his cheeks as it folds over his trembling nose, a delicate hand cupping his lower face. 

“HEH-MPFH!” The cloth dampens under her gentle care. “RFSH-mm’neh…”

Beckett sniffles deeply and triest to pull away in alarm but fingers grip his nose, tugging him back as they rub circles over his aching nostrils. 

He blinks away tears and sees a familiar woman. The woman who visits the grave. 

Her tawny locks are pulled into a knot atop her head with a few tendrils escaping to dress her pink cheeks. Her lips form a perfect cupid bow, even if they are pinched in what might be annoyance. Her eyes, however, are a rich brown and filled to the brim with warmth.

"M-Ma’am, I--”

“It is Beckett, no? The groundskeep?” she says, her jeweled voice keen and sharp.

He has spoken to her a few times--enough to know her name is Annis. She remembered his name, though, which surprises him considering his profession and social status. 

“Y-yes ma’am. I do apologize for--”

“Do not apologize, sir. This man has treated you unfairly.” She pinches her skirt and faces the policeman, face a stern mask. “Sir,” she snaps, jarring the officer. “This man,” Annis waves at Beckett, “is my suitor. He has come at my behest for late night relations. I simply cannot do without on such a night as this.”

Both men gape at her, Beckett flushing deep in his cheeks. 

The officer coughs uncomfortably. “Ah, that may be…ahm, yes. But--”

“I demand his release so that he may abscond with me for a good ravishing.” 

Another choking cough and now the policeman is blushing and averting his gaze from her altogether. “Yes, yes, very well,” he near whispers, tucking the notepad away. “As you…were.” 

She waits for the cuffs to release before taking Beckett’s hand. “Come,” she says, “before I lose myself to madness.”

The officer hurries away as she pulls Beckett up the stairs and into the house. Once inside, Annis glides toward the window and pinches the curtain aside.

“He is gone.” She returns to him with a ripple of her dress. “My apologies for tonight. I am prone to causing discomfort in men.”

Beckett clears his throat, face heating. “It’s quite alright, ma’am.”

She nods sharply. “I suppose you will be off, no?”

Beckett blinks at her. Does she not wish to know why he was skulking about her home?

He winds his hands, fidgeting. “Yes, of course.”

She sees him to the door and watches him descend into the night.

“Oh, and,” she calls before he reaches the street, “I do so apologize for my grandmother. She worries for me when I do not make my weekly visits.” She closes the door, leaving Beckett staring after her.

[sniffle-elf]

Why is everything so DIFFERENT

So I don't know if any of you remember me, but I used to be active here before the world swallowed me up whole and refused to let me go for a long ass time. Highlights of what kept me away from tumblr include;

I started my own baking business. That was... a struggle.

My roommates and I were evicted due to a loophole in the rental laws here and had to scramble to find a place that was big enough for all of us, accepted dogs, was within a reasonable distance to jobs, and wasn't INSANELY expensive. It took us for-fucking-ever.

Had to move after finding said place. Also a process.

After several awful arguments, I had to come to terms with the fact that my best friend for twenty years was no longer my best friend, and then later on, no longer a friend at *all*. I went through a mourning period like when one loses a spouse, and I'm still not fully over it.

I was nearly kidnapped (blind date gone wrong. Even if you're in your 30s, peeps, don't assume that you'll be safe and only teenagers should take friends when meeting someone for the first time)

Met a woman that did *not* want to kidnap me, and got sucked into the fairy-tale bliss of a new relationship.

Got dumped!

Got Covid and had it for *six fucking months*.

It's been a lot, but it feels like life is finally settling down again maybe probably? And I wanted to see if I can wedge myself back into our little community here.

So tell me how you've all been! What have I missed, what's the fandom of the day, introduce me to your new OCs!

I missed you all. <3

[sniffle-elf]

so I finally have some time to myself, where I’m not working on a photo project and also not being bothered by my roommate, and I thought I’d sit down and write some stuff. I got an inbox request that I’ve been thinking about (sorry, nonny, I’ve been super busy! but I will definitely get to it!) and also another idea that’s been gnawing at me for a vamp character that’s only been briefly mentioned. so I open Grammerly, where I do almost all my writing because of cloud save system, and also nobody would think to look in my grammerly account for fetish porn. and I’m all ready to start a new document, already raring to go. 

and then I see a document that I don’t remember starting. obviously, I had to open it and read it. and it’s good. it’s that kind of writing that makes me sit back and go “wait, who wrote that? it was me? I wrote that?!!” 

I so badly want to write more on it, but I don’t know if I can... get to that place again. If that makes sense? Like I was clearly in a headspace where words were flowing, and I had a particular pacing, and... I don’t know if I can add to it without it reading in two very separate chunks. and that is such a bummer.

Oh well. I’ll just have to write about Gabriel and Lucas. Maybe someday, the inspiration to go back to the beautiful fic will come to me.

[sniffle-elf]

Look. Would you just look at my boys? This is without a doubt the greatest thing I’ve spent money on in months. Maybe all year. Gabriel on his throne looking miserable? The modern!AU Johnny’s hair all tucked up, and his expression of surprise and concern? The forehead kiss??

I have ceased the ability to function as a human being. 

💢 PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG TO NON-KINK BLOGS 💢

commission for @sniffle-elf  /  sketchdump

commissions  ✦  ko-fi

[sniffle-elf]

。   ｏ     ○  ╭◜◝  ͡  ◜  ͡  ╮      ╭◜◝  ͡  ◜◝  ͡  ◝╮  ( 💕snz💕  )      (💖allergies💖)  ╰◟◞  ͜  ╭◜◝  ͡ ◜◝  ͡  ◝  ͡  ╮◞◟◞ ╯  　 　    (    💓colds💓    )  　　    ╰◟◞  ͜  ◟◞  ͜  ◟◞ ╯ 

[sniffle-elf]

5-Minute Crafts just deadass told me that if you sneeze in bed a lot, or have a cold, or whatever scenario it was, you should cut a slit in your pillowcase and put a tissue box inside it so that tissues are never out of reach. I’m not making that up, that was literally in the video facebook just showed me.

[sniffle-elf]

When you log into your snzblr account for the first time forever because you’ve been trying to do Not Sneeze Related Things, and you have 80 notifications and have a moment of minor panic. 

[sniffle-elf]

Creator: This person is incapable of catching a cold/developing allergies because [insert reason here]

Snz Fuckers: OKAY BUT-

[sniffle-elf]

~ Whumtober Sickfic Prompts ~

Thought I’d make this as an alternative prompt list for anyone who wanted to participate in whumptober but who’s not as keen on writing pure whump. Obviously this is not a replacement for whumptober, and I would never encourage you to pick one or the other. I had attempted to do the prompts like the original whumptober account, and give people ideas, but it was faring harder than I expected, so I apologize, and you’re always welcome to send me an ask to get some ideas if you’d like! 

I hope everyone enjoys! 

Day 1: Autumn 

Day 2: Cough 

Day 3: Blankets . 

Day 4: Headache

Day 5: Couch

Day 6: Overheating

Day 7: Break 

Day 8: Hospital

Day 9: Belly Ache 

Day 10: Tissues

Day 11: Thermometer

Day 12: Strep Throat 

Day 13: Motion Sick / Air Sick / Car Sick 

Day 14: Popsicles 

Day 15: Bath 

Day 16: Comfort Food 

Day 17: Dizzy 

Day 18: Cold 

Day 19: Heat/Ice Pack 

Day 20: Sniffles 

Day 21: Airport 

Day 22: Exhaustion

Day 23: Shiver

Day 24: Flushed 

Day 25: Cranky

Day 26: Faint 

Day 27: Flu 

Day 28: Concussion 

Day 29: Allergy 

Day 30: Mono 

Day 31: Halloween