Furry Sideblog for Quosterking! furry fics, art, worldbuilding, and more catered towards the sneeze-kink/fetish community. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR A VANILLA BLOG.
This is the furry side blog of @quosterking! You'll see furry content over here, while all humanoid content will be on my main.
Looking for Spicy Stuff? Check out my [FA!] This blog is mostly SFW, but any NSFW will be posted instead to my FA.
BEFORE INTERACTING, please check out my Before You Follow (BYF). If I have reason to believe you either havent read it or are ignoring it, you will swiftly be blocked!
This blog is primarily an ask blog: I will almost exclusively post in response to inbox submissions and anonymous questions. Feel free to ask about any of my OCs! Answers are not guaranteed and will depend on time and capacity.
Feral/Quadreped Characters: Quadrepedal characters, more commonly known as ‘feral characters,’ will be very rare on this blog. They will usually be dragons or other mythological creatures that don’t exist in the real world. Any featured quadruped characters are sapient, with full moral capacity to communicate and engage in the content they are featured in. If you support non-sapient creatures engaging in fetish content, block me.
What's on this blog?
Sneeze (Snz) Content (Most Common)
Nose ("Noseplay") Content (Most Common)
G/T (Macro/Micro) Content (Most Common)
Tickling (rare)
Other related kink/fetish content (VERY rare). Please only send asks about the content above!
=QOUSTEROO'S OC MASTERPOST=
My OC Post Archive {Temporary, will be replaced with the above link soon!}
Feel free to reject this or do it with anyone else etc etc. but, 12, 17, 20, 24, 61, 62, 98 & 96 combined for a possible story / writing prompt with Runough and any other character(s) you feel fit?
(I went 'ooo potion ingredients' when I saw the prompts and it was too late by the time I realized it's Not 💀 but I figured I may as well send it anyhow and see what you do!)
Summary: 4000 words. Runough gets a rude awakening from a small friend fleeing a grim fate. He’s now tasked with holding back to keep his new friend safe from a feathered pursuer.
Note: I have been OBSESSED with this art, y'all. The more you look at it, the more little bits of detail pop out. Huge HUGE thanks to @pupper-star for the amazing work.
=================
What usually would be a lazy and slow morning for Runough turned out to be…quite the opposite. In all fairness, it wasn’t every day you woke up to a chipmunk scampering into your nose.
The chaos began less than an hour prior. The warm season was coming around, and that meant food reserves were running short from hibernation. Portobello, a yellow pine chipmunk, found themselves at one of their depleted storage sites under one of the many fir trees. A broom made from pine needles unceremoniously swept at the barren floors. The morning was tragically slow and cold, though Portobello did their best to counter it in spirits.
“This isn’t all that bad,” they huffed to themselves as they waddled outside. Out here, the melted snow had a way of making the tall ferns glisten overhead. Even amongst a canopy of conifer trees, the occasional blossoms could be made out in the sparse deciduous ones. A tranquil overcast morning, and spring was seeping in all around. “Lunchtime's practically round the corner, too…I’ll find something worthwhile, I’m sure.”
“I’ll say…”
A deep, silky voice made the rodent shiver with dread. It belonged to none other than Cedrus—a barn owl—who was also on the hunt for an early-spring meal. Nuts and berries weren’t common to her diet, but a little rodent? That seemed like easy pickings.
Portobello visibly tensed and prickled at the sight behind them. Cedrus had features that demanded your full attention: her dark brown feathers ebbed into darker streaks across her foreboding face. Her blue eyes could cut through a night sky like northern lights. When she shifted in place, her fluffy talons peeled off flakes of pine bark and lichen. She was on the smaller side for a barn owl, but surely she was large enough to indulge in a meal such as themselves.
Portobello was not about to stick around to offer themselves up, though. The moment they saw the owl hunch down in preparation to fly, their feet propelled them across the forest floor. They could feel their little heart, beating thrice for every footfall. Spring-loaded legs, a whipping tail, and swift reactions did well for an early breakaway, but they could only hope it would be enough to save their life.
The chase ensued for forty-five minutes, broken up only by intermittent bouts of hiding and seeking. Ferns shielded Portobello from Cedrus’ gaze, at least enough for her not to make any early attempts at swiping them up. They couldn't take a chance with trees—moving too slowly up the trunks could spell out an untimely end. The undergrowth was growing steadily thinner, insisting that they come up with a change of plans and fast.
“Can today uh-!!” They shouted over their shoulder to the owl making her silent descent with claws outstretched, “can today not be the day you choose me for lunch?!”
The chipmunk dove under a hollow log, yelping when a massive talon’s claws scraped the old wood. “Stop talking!! Your incessant rambling is making my appetite wane…”
“That’s the point!” They countered, before the owl’s foot narrowly missed their face. They shot out of the log as fast as their little legs could carry them, skittering up a hill towards a sun-specked, lush clearing.
Runough was fast asleep, sprawled out on a mossy hill with his cheek smothered against the soil. His eyelids were heavy with slumber, further encouraged by the slow, unbothered snores he pulled through his nostrils. Each one made the ground vibrate, and the soft sides of his snout would tremble and waver in reaction. It was a borderline purr, and his sleeping bellow made the moss near his nose dance.
The quickly-approaching chipmunk grimaced as they darted across the clearing towards him. Options of escape were growing thinner by the second, but there was a clear opening dead ahead. A pair of openings, rather, assuming the shapes of Runough’s two large nostrils. Portobello couldn’t afford to be picky here—between outpacing an owl's talons and jumping into a forest dragon’s nose, they hurriedly hedged their bets on the latter of two evils. In fact, Runough’s nose was quite possibly the safest location to hide in the immediate area. Poor Runough would be completely oblivious to the trouble heading his way, and by the time he pieced things together, it would probably be too late to do anything about it. This was simply a case of begging for forgiveness over asking for permission!
Cedrus closed the distance in a second attempt at snatching up Portobello. She was certain she had them too: what animal would flee their way up the food chain, and rush directly at a dragon? The moment of hesitation Cedrus had—fully expecting Portobello to change course—ended up being the perfect window of time for them to escape her talons. For when she realized where they were truly headed, it made her stomach drop.
“You can’t be serious, you’re not just going to—??” She gawked, closing her talons once Portobello leapt and submerged themselves halfway into Runough’s left nostril.
“Aagh!” Yelped Portobello, frantically kicking against Runough’s upper lip. Cedrus swooped overhead, trying her hardest to circle back and snag them and third time before they could hide away. It was a close call, but the chipmunk had pulled their hips in just as the talons came back around. Portobello’s opening was rather cramped, but a confused snort helped them get a bit further back. The inside of his nose was lively, rippling and twitching with a newfound irritation that most certainly woke him up. It was intensely warm, and the sounds of the outside world were muffled, only leaving behind Portobello’s racing heartbeat and Runough’s quickening one.
Runough slipped twice trying to gather his feet under him. He crossed his eyes with confusion, just barely catching sight of a tail disappearing into his left nostril. Tiny paws tugged and kicked at the bouncy, pink flesh of his inner nose as they scrambled as deep as they could.
“H-huh?!” He shook his head a bit violently, trying to shake them free. Had they been wandering by when a stray snore sucked them up? He hoped he hadn’t hurt them! “Snrf..?? Hhff!! SnRK?!”
Even with his chuffs and snorts, however, it didn’t seem to free them from his nose. It was as if they were holding on in there, intentionally. He shivered as he felt them cautiously crawl deeper, too. “Wait—! You can’t go in there-!” …well, clearly they could, but that was besides the point. “You—snff! You shouldn’t, I mean…!”
Inside, Portobello could just barely stand up on all fours with their back and tail brushing up against the roof of his inner nose. It was plush and flexible in here—the muscles and membranes were undeniably draconic in nature. As he chuffed, a violent reverberation made the walls flex and warble around them. They resonated like the skin of a drum, and glowed orange from the way the morning sun hit his face from outside.
Portobello looked over their shoulder to where the entrance of his nostril was. “I’m so sorry, there-there was this owl, I was running out of energy, I just needed somewhere to hide and—and!”
“Owl…ah, the..!” Runough blinked his thick lashes thrice as his little eyes cast upward. He spotted the owl circling in, and furrowed his brows up at her. The poor chipmunk in his nose was audibly panting, simultaneously catching their breath and cherishing that they were still breathing at all.
“Pleasant morning to you, forest guardian,” Cedrus snarked. She outstretched her talons, grasping the horn on the front of his snout with wings outstretched. “I don’t believe you and I have had the opportunity to meet formally…”
“U-uh..!”
“Runough, that’s what the others call you,” she quickly addressed him as if he had forgotten his own name, “You may call me Cedrus, and I do believe my lunch’s gotten stuck somewhere they really ought not to be..!”
If Cedrus could glare at Portobello inside of his nose, she would. Instead, all she was staring down was a tiny chipmunk tail, barely visible. Why must everyone make things so difficult? “Ugh…pardon me, won’t you?”
Just as Runough was about to ask, Cedrus balled her talons in a closed fist and dove it into his left nostril. His ears shot up in alarm, and his nostrils flared responsively. Portobello yelped as Cedrus grazed their tail, quickly tucking it between their own legs. Cedrus pulled out her talon with a wet pop, scowling at the clear mess that slicked down her feathery foot. Below her, Runough’s legs were shaking, eyelids fluttering with irritation. Rolling her eyes, she reached inside a second time, but she couldn’t feel any sign of Portobello at this point. How deep did they go to hide themselves?? It was just as inconvenient as it was gross!
“H-hey—!! Leave them alone!!” Runough insisted with his lip wobbling. Squeezing his tiny eyes shut, he shook his head about to try and shake her off. The owl’s wings pinwheeled slightly as her balance was flung to the winds. She hissed at him to still him, eyes furious. It was his fault that she had to do this song and dance, as far as she was concerned. Now he was eying her down with a face she could only describe as obnoxious, scowling with parted lips and slanted brows. This massive, stupid nose of his was quivering and flexing too much!
“UGH- soiling a perfect meal…” she scoffed, looking away in disgust as she reached a bit deeper.
“Your f-feEHh…hEAHHh..!” Runough was tearfully doing his best to warn her about her feathers. The tiny, soft feathers on her talon were rubbing up against his sensitive nasal walls, and with the added torment Portobello was accidentally causing deeper within, it only made sense that he was building to a desperate sneeze. The signs were all there, even without his breathless warning. His eyes gently shut, his chest puffed, and he was rendered silent by his flaring nostrils. “…H-hhUKt’shh!!”
Portobello was fully expecting to be sneezed out, but was left surprised by the forceful half-stifle. For Cedrus, however, she was thrown downward, losing her balance and dislodging from his snout. She flew off momentarily, looking at her talon drenched in mucus. “Ergh..!!”
Runough let out a weary sigh, both nostrils drooling with warm mess as his head hung low. He shuddered ticklishly at the feeling of Portobello losing their grip—the slick gathering in his nose must have been far too slippery to keep holding onto. Occasionally they would scramble or slip, gliding down toward the entrance of his left nostril.
“Bless you..!” They spoke it out of habit, but figured it to be the least they could offer in this awkward moment between the two. “I-I’m so sorry again, I’ll be out of your fur—out of your scales—well, out of your nose—!”
“Cedrus is coming back..!” He whispered, watching the owl turn towards him yet again. While he didn’t know Portobello, he was far too invested in their safety now that it was his body separating Portobello from their hunter. That meant keeping the chipmunk in his nostril until the coast was clear. “Sorry for this…SNRK!”
“Yipe!”
Portobello had realized just how flexible Runough’s nose was. The puffy membranes squeezed and hugged at them whenever they could, especially as they desperately grasped at them for stability. When he snorted, however, the walls clung to him, closing their only means of escape with a vacuum seal. They were plugged deep within his left nostril, causing a moderate bout of nasal congestion.
Right in time too, Cedrus had made her perch back on his horn, climbing up to stand properly on his snout. She screeched at him, in that barn owl way, which admittedly did frighten Runough just a touch.
“You're a disgusting example of dragonkind!” She melodramatically groaned, holding her talon up so he could see the feathers warped and slicked out of place from his mess.
“Well that’s just rude,” Runough countered, but flinched and receded as she hissed at him again. That noise was so grating on his ears!
“How dare you intercept the order of the food chain, over the very land you have vowed to protect??” Cedrus didn’t give him a moment to respond before she continued, “Where’s that pest? Are they still hiding? Surely not, you’ve just sneezed everywhere…”
“U—uh..!”
“They’re still—!” She audibly scoffed, leaning over to peer into his left nostril. It was flaring and flexing far too frequently to get a good view. Her talons grasped at the upper rim of his nostril, pinning it back in an attempt to keep him steady.
There. She could make out Portobello’s little hind paws, pushing at his nasal walls to give themselves a bit more room. There was no way she could simply pluck them out, though…aha!
Runough’s brows pinched upward as Cedrus dug her beak into her inner wing, loosening a fluffy, long feather. As she leaned her head down to angle the feather, he flinched as the gentle barbs tickled the sensitive rim of his nostril.
“Utterly revolting…!” A sigh left her as she went along, begrudgingly doing her best to pry a proper sneeze out of him, “Come out, little rodent…”
“Wh-hHat are you-!” Oh, she didn’t realize that the whole situation was fruitless, did she? Portobello was stuck, they couldn’t get themselves out if they tried. And Cedrus, stuck in her ways, took Portobello’s pleas from within as feigning helplessness. She henceforth continued the feathery onslaught, which made Runough squirm and knead at the moss below him with anxiousness. He tripped over his own paws, squeezing his eyes tearfully shut as his rear slammed onto the forest floor.
“Huhh- hHUHh-!” Each trembling breath made his huge nostrils flare. They got ever so slightly bigger and rounder with every subsequent hitch, putting his pink inner membranes on display. Cedrus, who was still holding his nostril open in her talon, peered inside to see Portobello’s little legs kicking and slipping against his nasal cavity. They were firmly lodged in there, and the sheer thought made Cedrus’s feathers ruffle with disgust. Who hides in a dragon’s nose of all places?! Had they no self preservation?
…Or rather, did Portobello have too much self preservation?
The little feather was growing to be too much for Runough. Cedrus was expertly precise, but she didn’t need to be, either. When the spine of the feather coaxed his exposed nostril, the barbs would follow, brushing up against the most sensitive parts forcibly pinned by her talon. It tickled horribly, and as much as he tried to hide it, he was losing the fight to the itch.
“It t-tiHh-!! I’m gonna snNEhh!!” He gasped, scowling with irritation. The feather danced around until she deemed the onslaught to be enough. When she pulled it away, the deep hitches he was making seemed conclusive enough to assume a sneeze was just around the corner. Even as Runough was mentally pleading to himself not to give in, his facial expression was betraying him.
“Right then, may as well get a head start!” She sighed at last, looking ahead out into the woods. She took off, leaving behind a cloud of downy feathers that got swept up into both his flaring nostrils.
“H-hUuhh!! HuhhH…!” His chest was swelling, his nostrils stretched as wide as they could manage, aching and twitching with need. Despite his dark scales, the redness of his inner nose was clearly visible. “Can’t…h-hHold..!!”
“D-don’t sneeze!!” Poor Portobello doubted they could even be heard. His inner nose was squeezing them tight, so their voice was strained anyhow. The sensitive nasal walls were smothering up against them, throbbing against their belly and chin. Mess was everywhere, and while there was no threat of drowning in it back here, it was more than enough to turn any attempts at escape into a slippery, fruitless endeavor. And believe them, they tried. It was like a wet, but warm hug—and if Portobello wasn’t worried about the events following Runough’s oncoming sneeze, they may have even considered it cozy.
“I’m s-sUH..! So sorrihHh!!” Runough was trying his best, Portobello could tell, but his apology was him verbally throwing in the towel. All they could do was brace and hope they could catch themselves! “HhH…! H-hHUG’TSCHHhhuww!!”
“Agh-!”
Portobello was freed from his nose with a pop, shooting backwards towards the entrance of his nose. Their paws glided along his inner nose on their exit, until they caught hold on the outermost ridge of his nostril with both hands. Mess came out with the sneeze, spraying the ground and the ferns below.
Portobello looked up at his flaring nostril they were holding onto. They looked around in a moment of clarity at the environment around them. Their fur was slicked back, their eyes were wide and afraid, but they were alive and unharmed.
“Snrff! Uhm-!” He flared his nostrils twice, seemingly realizing Portobello was no longer inside his nose. Portobello gripped on tighter as he looked left and right, searching wildly for them.
“Bless you, I’m here,” Portobello panted, and Runough’s searching became even more frantic.
“I can’t uh—! Snrf! I can't see you, where-?” Portobello hoisted themselves up onto Runough’s nose, and watched him cross his eyes. “There you are—geez, I-I’m really sorry, are you alright??”
“I…yeah, I’m much more alright than the alternative, I think?” Portobello chuckled. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, a bit itchy…”
Both dragon and chipmunk paused at a distant owl’s cry, and both went equally stiff with uncertainty. Only Runough could pick up approaching wingbeats that otherwise would be silent to the ear. Against all odds, Cedrus was returning again.
“I need to scare them off,” Runough mumbled conclusively, “and you need to hide—!”
Portobello looked around, but their eyes lingered on his nose. As risky as it was, Portobello figured that one of the best hiding places would be in plain sight. If Cedrus had been focusing all of her attention on his left nostril, it felt sensible to hide in his right…right?
Runough may have been brainless most of the time, but as Portobello took a breath and scurried into his right nostril, he seemed to understand the thought process too.
“Quihh-quickly,” he breathed shakily, feeling Portobello’s paws grasp at the flesh of his inner nose, “h-hh! Hold on to somethEhHh!! Gonna snEeehh!! Hee—heEIshh’uuw! HeEESHhhuw!!”
“Bless you—bless you, sorry..!” The big guy was still so sensitive, wasn’t he?
“Your lihh—! Little p-pUh…pawssShhuw..!!” Portobello watched the walls tense and the muscles tighten around them with each gentle sneeze. It wasn’t nearly strong enough to blow them out, Runough’s natural sneezes always happened to be that way.
Cedrus broke through the treeline, and Runough looked upward, blinking itchy tears from his eyes. He dipped his head and dodged their talons from making purchase on his face again. In fact, as he turned and followed through on the motion, he lunged upward and grabbed her foot out of the air with his lip. She flapped chaotically in an attempt to free herself, but it only resulted in her crashing to the forest floor.
“That’s quite enough!” Runough grunted, planting a paw gently over her wing to keep it pinned to the mossy ground.
She thrashed, she screeched, she went as far as to bite his toe, but nothing came of it. He leaned in, dripping nose vibrating with a snarl. It was cut short though, turning into a tickly snort at the feeling of Portobello’s tail brushing deep inside his snout.
Cedrus reeled in disgust as a dangling cord of clear mess from his left nostril hit her on the cheek. It sent a disgusted shiver through her, and she audibly gagged at the feeling of it soaking her feathers.
“Look at whHhuh..! What you’ve duUhh-! …done, snrf!! I’m gonna sn-nEhh..! HURRSChhuw!!”
Runough pulled his paw off her after he snuffled. Cedrus rolled over quickly, hopping away and shaking her feathers out. It was safe to say the sneeze ruined what little sliver of appetite remained, and she flew off spitting remarks and insults.
“…I think that’s it,” Runough sighed a cloud of fog from both nostrils. He felt the rustling in his nose still, but his breath was still shaky. “H-hhHh! Uh..! Huuh…snf…”
Inside, Portobello eased. This side of his nose was much less puffy from irritation, which meant it was generally more roomy. Everything was flooded with fog, the heavy kind that hung low and spilled from Runough’s nostrils like dry ice. For some reason, the fog seemed to have a calming effect: likely, the components involved to make Runough’s dragon breath induced a light sedative effect. Pair that with the adrenaline leaving Portobello’s system, and they felt outright exhausted.
Runough’s floppy ears pricked up as he felt Portobello stretch out onto their stomach inside his nose. “…You’re not hh-! Hhurt, are you..?”
“Not at all! You’re quite gentle…sorry, I’m just—uh…really tuckered out.”
“Running for a long time will do that, I imagine..! Get the rest you n-need, get your strength back.”
“Wh-! Here? Goodness, that’s far too invasive, I couldn’t possibly..!” They stood, but the sheer act of doing so made his inner nose tremble and twitch.
“HeHk- huh-hHehg! …hHysshuww!! Urrschhuw!!”
“Bless you, I keep mak—bless you,” Portobello didn’t know what compelled them to bless every sneeze, perhaps guilt for the poor dragon, “I keep making you sneeze, that can’t be comfortable…”
“To tell you the truth, it’s hardly different from the norm…it’s really easy to set me off.” He chuckled tearfully.
As morning passed into midday, Runough had left from his sleeping spot to go about his routine to the best of his ability. A breakfast of truffles and berries, and paying a visit to Tansy—the melanistic squirrel—for a new feather delivery. She liked collecting them for some reason, and the encounter this morning had luckily yielded a few good ones. When he found her, she was perched on a low-hanging branch, tending to her own breakfast.
“Oh..!” Tansy gawked as she was presented with two beautiful brown owl feathers. Taking them in her paws from Runough’s mouth. “How kind of you, Runough, I don’t have any owl feathers!”
When Tansy looked over to properly thank him, her face screwed up with confusion and embarrassment as he hitched. “Thank- oh…you don’t uh—? You don’t happen to have another stuck in your…your nose, do you??” It wouldn’t have been the first time that happened, after all. That was how this whole trade situation started.
“S-suh..! Sorry…there’s a..! A ch—chhih—! Hheeih- h—hHEEISsshuw-! A-ah! Ha’Ashhuw!! A chipmuUh-huuhnk, in m— in’d muH..!”
As Runough tried to explain the predicament that had him in a fit of tears, his nostrils quivered and trembled, one bright salmon with overstimulation. Every sniffle was excruciatingly delicate, but was still enough to ruffle Tansy’s fur from several feet away.
“I-! Beg your pardon..??”
“Gih-haAh-!” He hitched loudly, pausing to suck in a trembling breath through his mouth. Snapping his maw shut, he flinched several times as a fit of stifles overwhelmed him. “Hnk-shh!! hIK’shh—hTTk’shhw! hh-Hh! hUh’mpk! Attschhw—hhHRSHh!”
Runough’s head drooped between his shoulders, and a small fluffy tail poked out of one of his twitching nostrils. Tansy clapped both paws to her mouth, eyes widening. “Is th—Portobello?”
“Tansy??” The tail flicked against the rim of Runogh’s nostril as their voice echoed out.
“O-oh, goodness me..! Runough, they aren’t stuck, are they?”
“Quite alright!!” Portobello answered on his behalf, pulling their tail back in as Runough snorted and snuffled. Poor Runough’s nostrils were an angry red, and he paced in place.
“Y-hhHuh! You’re tickling m-my nuUh..!” He lifted his head and Tansy averted her gaze, humiliated on her friend’s behalf. “H-haah..! HUUh! hAUSHhhuww!!”
Portobello tumbled out of his nose, luckily landing in a patch of moss less than a foot below them. They shook themselves out with their wet fur prickled out in all directions. Tansy scurried down the tree to meet her friend, still clearly shocked from witnessing the entire ordeal.
“Portobello, what..??”
“It’s..! It’s a long story, I promise.” Portobello sighed, turning and craning their head upward, “thank you again, Runough..! I owe you one…”
“Snff! Any time…I’m just glad I could be helpful…”
The two rodents held onto one another as Runough carefully unfurled his wings. With massive wingbeats that swept up the leaves and moss, he was off, leaving behind the verdant canopies in favor of the clouds above. If anything, he hoped that the fresh air could start clearing up his irritated sinuses.
My favorite sneezing while hiding scenarios happen to be ones where the desperate holdbacks and hitches end up making more of a ruckus than the sneeze itself. Yet, by the cartoonish logic of it all, the one the character is hiding from neglects to hear them.
He does oversee a wine company! His brand is known for the best blackberry wine in Woodhurst. With that, I imagine he’s an expert wine sommelier and encourages his company to get experimental with their flavors.
Who has bigger sneezes: Stanley or Lord Sprucethorn? Also, I need to know about the bear’s sneezes and allergies in general <3
I was asked this question on discord too!
To answer simply, Stanley has bigger sneezes and it’s not remotely close. Stanley has this cartoonish quality about him and a power of wind control with his sneezes, very much in line with the big bad wolf. While Sprucethorn is much bigger, he has normal sneezes (for his size) and even trails on the softer side when he can manage it.
Lord Sprucethorn has terrible hayfever. It’s bad enough that just leaving a window open will have him feeling significantly hitchy and sneezy. Usually it’s not enough to make him sneeze, unless he’s in direct contact with an allergen; sitting under a tree or smelling a floral display, for example. At a base level, he gets stuck sneezes a lot, more than most of my characters. The poor man gets rendered to a hitching mess of himself sometimes, and it embarrasses him.
It doesn’t help that when he does sneeze, he often tries his best to suppress it if he doesn’t know for certain where Alderwick is. The last thing he wants is to startle him or sneeze him away, so he almost always sneezes in a handkerchief or covered. It begins stifled, but even his sneezes are just a bit too tickly to keep them that way for long. When he is with Alderwick, he likes to announce his sneezes as much as he can manage, for two reasons: 1) it keeps his husband in the know so he doesn’t get too startled, most importantly, and 2) he plays it up a little for his husband.
Since Woodhurst Tales is inspired by the late 19th century, hayfever—and pollen by extension—were both very recently discovered (1860s is around the time that happened). I think this is just good to note historically, because the poor guy can’t go on and take medicine for it at this stage (and won’t be able to for another…50ish years).
I think, unlike many of my characters, old Sprucethorn is embarrassed by his sneezes and allergies. He thinks it makes him weak, especially amongst other noble, aristocratic beasts in Woodhurst. After all, his business associates work with wine and berries all the time, and here he is getting hitchy and sneezy when he nears a flower! His husband deeply enjoys it all, at least…
Heya! Very curious how Sprucethorn first found out about Alderwick’s love for noses! Was it mainly through smell?
Communication, I imagine! Lord Sprucethorn and Lord Alderwick have been very much in love for at least three decades, I imagine the topic of fantasies popped up rather early on. Maybe Sprucethorn was navigating poor hayfever, and noticed his husband was quite receptive and started questioning him.
In terms of smell, though, I have referenced that Sprucethorn can sense chemical changes in Alderwick. I imagine that extends to dopamine, stress response, and whatever chemicals are released as a byproduct of his sleep attacks.
Woa, Alderwick and Sprucethron were recieved well, and they’ve only been here a hot second! I’m working hard on the next couple of requests, but the two are gonna stay around a while; so feel free to ask me questions about them in my inbox!
Note: 1900 words. M/M, Hayfever, Inducing, Micro/Macro. As I mentioned before, I wanted to get another fic out based around The Woodhurst Tales! This is using Lord Sprucethorn and Lord Alderwick, a married bear and mouse respectively. I just needed to write some old man yaoi with these two!
Sprucethorn yawned at the early afternoon’s light pouring in from the window. He yawned in that Sprucethorn way, too: he leaned back with the armchair groaning beneath him, parting his maw with his gasp. The deep rumble of satisfaction made the ground tremble for little Lord Alderwick, whose fur had fluffed up in a small startle.
It was a quiet afternoon in the Westwarren Estate, and the two had finished tea not too long ago. As Alderwick settled in his armchair, he had caught himself marveling at the real prize of Sprucethorn’s profile, which took the form of his strong snout and large nostrils. They flared at almost everything, even a lengthy sigh.
“Spring is in full bloom already, I swore the trees were bare just a week prior…” Sprucethorn pointed a claw at the glass, and snorted.
“Early start, I suppose. It’s good for the berries, though!” Alderwick made a point to add, looking over again from his book. If his husband was going to be going on about allergies, the little mouse feared he wasn’t going to get any productive reading done!
“Very good!” He agreed, “those blackberries look as shiny as the cufflinks on my sleeves from over here. I’m certain the harvesters will find themselves a cheeky snack while they work, mm?”
“Wouldn’t hold it against them if they did!” And this spurred a wealthy-sounding laugh between the two. The laugh died away quickly for two reasons: Sprucethorn snorted and grunted with idle irritation, and Alderwick had gotten distracted by it.
“Hidd..! huhHh..?” His nostrils opened wide, tugging the rims thin with every flex. He relaxed with a sigh and a stray sniff. He was clearly either fighting a sneeze or trying to encourage one out—Alderwick couldn’t tell. “HUhhm…snRRFff…! Dear me…my hayfever is settling in for the afternoon, isn’t it? We’ve hardly opened a window and already my nose is making a right fuss. I get so tickly in the spring, it’s hardly fair…”
“It..! Ah, it…” Lord Alderwick stumbled horribly over each word that left his mouth, “ahem! It appears so. I’m terribly sorry spring is so harsh on you, my love.”
“Hah! I do believe you’re sorry for other reasons, mm? Something catch your eye?”
The mouse hardly had a moment to react to his husband’s sudden antics. Sprucethorn had begun sniffing at the stacked encyclopedia Alderwick and his armchair were sat upon, a remarkably teasing look in his eyes. Each breath was strong and sharp, especially as his nose approached him. A singular nostril was wider than his whole head at rest; not to mention when it flexed and flared. When it did, it was easily able to stretch almost as wide as he was tall. He felt waves of embarrassment rush through him as the nose rudely pressed him back in his tiny armchair.
“Oh—! Oh my!” Alderwick exclaimed, lifting his arms to get a better holding against his nose. He swore he was bright red in the cheeks through his fur! “Sprucethorn you—! You brute! Heavens!”
A single sharp huff sent the chair falling onto its back with Alderwick along for the ride. He curled his tail in on himself, and his body trembling with humiliation and surprise. He then fell slack, laying quiet with his eyes fluttering shut. When he saw this, the bear’s ears pricked at attention. His husband had just fainted, or rather, fallen into a sleeping spell. Old Sprucethorn could smell it coming on anyhow: his husband’s narcolepsy. “Are you alright, dear?”
As if the words themselves breathed life into his fur, Alderwick stretched his arms and surveyed the air with his whiskers. He blinked up and him, and in a rush, remembered his predicament. By that point though, the bear’s nose had considerably receded from its vicinity.
“Ah, heavens, my heart…” he huffed, clasping the front of his little chest. “You know I faint when you get my heart going..!!” Which, to be clear, wasn’t exactly false—though, the nature of narcolepsy was only a recent study in the world.
“But you’re quite alright…I’ve never let that little heart of yours run away from me, have I?” He encouraged, only to receive a wagging finger from his husband.
“Not yet you haven’t, Oliver, but at this rate—!”
“Alright, alright, I hear you, Balfour…” he waved his paw at him. A long claw set his armchair right, and Alderwick practically melted from it onto his feet. As he shook himself out, he looked up worriedly at his husband. He was still sniffing at the air irritably, yet a sneeze hadn’t escaped him. It must have been his latter assessment—Sprucethorn was fighting with a stuck sneeze.
“Oh, Sprucethorn, I do want to try to be more intimate, my love,” he was stirring up the same rambling again, and Sprucethorn chuffed fondly at the mouse’s squeaks, “I just don’t want to frighten you..! All my fainting spells, I just don’t want you fretting that I’ve up and died!”
“Please, you’re a tough mouse, Alderwick! You act as though you were a cricket!”
“I’m a tough mouse, but I’m all sorts of delicate too!” He balled his little fists at his sides. Sprucethorn adjusted his monocle to look at him closer, eyes soft with his attentive listening. “Oh dear, I’m just bickering to bicker, I fret. You’ve just got me riled up…”
“Give it a go, aye?”
“What?”
Sprucethorn scrunched his nose, sniffing and huffing away at whatever was irritating him. “Give it a go, being closer. I won’t rush you into it this time. Maybe that’s what’s been getting your little chest racing.”
Sprucethorn did make a point, as surprising as it was for Alderwick to reckon with. The only times Sprucethorn had interacted with his…infatuation for noses was always in some big tease that made Alderwick lightheaded with embarrassment. He had always chalked it up to being barred from intimacy altogether with his condition—never once had they deviated from the method, though.
“I don’t believe you’re rushing me into it, Oliver, I..!”
“Well, I believe I am. I ought to see how it’s like for you to come to me on your own terms.”
Something about the invitation sparked some excitement in the little mouse, and he nodded in understanding. “Right then, I’m willing to give it a go.”
It took almost thirty minutes. Alderwick insisted the two go into the drawing room for some privacy. One of their servants had just been through here, he could smell a lingering trace of rabbit from the adjacent door. A window was left ajar, and with a mutter, Sprucethorn closed it and drew the curtains shut. That must’ve been the cause of his itchiness, this one neglected window hovering above the garden.
Alderwick was set down on the giant chess table, standing no taller than a bishop. While Alderwick did everything in his power to stall for time and cool his nerves, Sprucethorn took a seat and procured a thick handkerchief.
“Pardon..! HhhHUHh!” He gasped, and he sighed, “bother…snf! I need to s—! SnEhh..! Huh…snf! My hayfever is really getting up my nose, it has me in tears..!”
“Poor thing…here, come closer. I’ll give it a look.”
Sprucethorn for once was the one looking a bit flushed, lowering his chin to the table. He watched his husband creep closer to his flaring nostrils, before disappearing out of his line of sight. He sniffed curiously, blinking as he felt Alderwick stagger and bump into his septum with a small grunt of surprise. Tiny hands felt around at it, and he peeked up above his nose to look Sprucethorn in the eyes.
“Sorry dear… It’s a brutish thing, this nose is,” Sprucethorn admitted with a small chuckle “I fret it’s a bit too big sometimes!”
“You’ve got a massive nose, darling, and it’s perfect.” Alderwick set his chin on top of the bear’s nose. Sprucethorn found himself blushing at the compliment. He always found his husband’s obsession with noses endearing and silly, but this encounter made him realize that he was missing out on so much from him merely being a tease. Now that Alderwick had the space to be unapologetic and confident about it, he was charming him. He couldn’t help his yearning for praise, and Alderwick knew how to tap into it.
“Dear me, this is the closest I’ve been to your nose, I think…!” He stated breathlessly.
“I can tell, I can smell the excitement on you.”
Alderwick carefully extended his tiny paw into his left nostril, pressing his fingertips in the soft inner flesh. His long whiskers gently tickled the rim of his nostril, too. In response, the bear’s breath shuddered and hitched.
“Do be careful, my n-nUH..! Hh-!! It’s just a h-hah!! A hhhair testy—hess—heEh…!” He stammered, flaring his nostrils hugely.
“So I’ve heard..! Maybe I’ve misunderstood the delicate one between us.”
Both hands reached into his nostrils now, hugging his septum as his fingers danced along the sensitive walls. Sprucethorn hitched more desperately, clearly swept up in the irritation. Each breath made Alderwick’s fur blast backward, and the stray sniffles between his hitches threatened to pull him off his feet.
“Let’s get this pesky sneeze out, you’ve been struggling with it all day..!” Alderwick suddenly declared. Sprucethorn blinked in surprise as Alderwick leaned into his right nostril, reaching his tiny paws as far as he could to tickle at the inner flesh. He curled his fingers as if playing the piano, running scales up and down the trembling tissues. He had to hold onto his nose when Sprucethorn sniffed and snuffled, and his ears flapped in the turbulent wind.
“Alderw—wuH..! Balfour, you’re going to m-mUHh! Make m-mUHHhh-hHUH!”
Alderwick scrambled backwards to get himself out, with Sprucethorn’s assistance, who pinched him by the tail and lifted him up and out of his nose. Alderwick watched transfixed as his nostrils flared and flexed in front of them, clearly ticklish from his invasive endeavor. He could see deep into them as the sun hit them just right, watching the glistening walls tremble with need. At last, the view was cut short as he brought his handkerchief over his nose.
“H-hhHUHh! hUURRSSCHhh—uuw!! h-hHURRSSCHHh—uuw!!” Two great sneezes were muffled into the handkerchief and he sighed shortly thereafter. “Uhf..! Snff! My goodness, please excuse me…snf!! That was quite a tickle, I could hardly speak…”
“Bless you, Sprucethorn..! I’ve always liked the sound of your sneezes…”
“I figured, you were eager to pry one out of me yourself, aye?”
“Couldn’t help myself with the opportunity—hey!! Now—see here!”
A set of strong, thick sniffles caused Alderwick to swing and teeter by his tail, being drawn closer and closer to his flaring nostrils. He had to rush his hands towards his pockets so that things wouldn’t go falling out!
“It’s a good thing I got you out of there, I’d hate to have you between my nose and a handkerchief…” which was something he had heard Alderwick lull on about in his my lovestruck ramblings. Alderwick covered his reddening face, squeaking in defiance.
“Oh, stop it! You’re going to get my heart going again, Oliver!”
“Alright..! Alright! You know I wouldn’t dare, those clothes are fine work! …Lest you asked it of me, of course!”
“Heavens, no! We..! We’ll work up to that one, yes?? Mouse steps, mouse steps…”
I wanted to combine these two asks into two new characters! These are characters a part of the Woodhurst Tales series: Lord Oliver Sprucethorn and Lord Balfour Alderwick! The two live in Westwarren and co-own a Wine and Cheese company together.
Lord Oliver Sprucethorn (he/him) is a massive old brown bear with a pleasant charm about him. He grew up in Westwarren, continuing a long line of ursine nobles descendant from knights. There's never a wrong moment for a jest with him. He has really strong hayfever and a slight sensitivity to dust.
Lord Balfour Alderwick (he/him) is a tiny wood mouse noble. He's the wealthier of the two, as his family line runs further back from the same spot. While at first glance, he's a skittish and flustered fellow with a tendency to faint, he can be incredibly charming when he's confident. It's something Sprucethorn has fallen head over heels about.
so I saw the post that you made about giving you some ideas because you want a drawing mood for sneeze scenarios so I have a few me personally I'm quite fond of anything involving micro macro and nasal vore you could try a scenario where a giant wolf traps a small tiny person in his nostrils and holds them in his nostrils for ransom but the tiny person tickles his nostrils to make him sneeze to escape you could try a dragon hoarding his treasure inside his nostrils and an adventurer comes along and has to make him sneeze to get the dragons treasure you could try a sandwich scenario where a dragon kidnaps a princess or Prince and stores them in his nostrils and the prince of princess has to make the dragon sneeze to escape try one where a giant character traps a tiny character in a hole by blocking the hole off with his nostrils and the tiny character has a tickle the larger characters nostrils to make the larger character sneeze to escape how about a larger character using their nose as a vacuum cleaner to clean up debris and stuff and sniffing up all the dirt and pollen and dandruff into their nostrils to clean up and winds up sneezing because of all the dust and debris making the room dirty again or how about a macro character collecting a bunch of micro characters in their nostrils we can even make a game out of it the two macro characters having a game to see who can collect the most amount of micros in their noses and hold them in their noses without sneezing until one of them in every sneezes first
for favorite scenarios: anything micro/macro with micro inside a dragon's snout and the dragon trying so hard not to sneeze. that's probably one of my favorites of all time 🙏🙂↕️
It’s funny you mention this one in particular, there is a huge fic around the corner that is essentially this prompt 👀
for favorite scenarios: anything micro/macro with micro inside a dragon's snout and the dragon trying so hard not to sneeze. that's probably one of my favorites of all time 🙏🙂↕️
It’s funny you mention this one in particular, there is a huge fic around the corner that is essentially this prompt 👀
Yo, hit me up in my inbox with your favorite snz-related scenarios!! I’m in a drawing mood this week and i wanna get some sketches out before i continue on the big comic I’ve been working on!
They can be as long and elaborate or as short and concise as you’d like! Imma be drawing my favorites using my OCs.
Yo, hit me up in my inbox with your favorite snz-related scenarios!! I’m in a drawing mood this week and i wanna get some sketches out before i continue on the big comic I’ve been working on!
They can be as long and elaborate or as short and concise as you’d like! Imma be drawing my favorites using my OCs.
I've never drawn anthro characters before - as you can probably tell - but I always thought they were really Neat?
This is Josef. He's a European hare. Botany professor, agricultural scientist and gardening enthusiast, who may or may not have some trouble with some plants, though he refuses to let that get in the way of his passions.
This is a character from Discord that I’m sharing to Tumblr and FA! This is Kahari (any pronouns), who is an aardvark studying history on a university level. They’re a barista and mixologist in their spare time, and has a really sensitive nose to touch.
