#sleep gender

[averagexenohoarder]

BLANKETMANTIC

A gender connected to blanket mantas/being a blanket manta !! May also be related to feelings of coziness,, softness,, and sleepiness,, but doesn't have to be !!

Art by @/carnivox !!

[genderkeeper]

Soporicomfic

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• Definition; a Soporine In Nature (SPIN) gender related to sleep, being cozy in bed, safety, warmth, and being sleepy. Can also relate to being half-awake while there's daylight, on the brink of falling asleep or waking fully.

"Sopori" soporine +"comf" comfort + ic

• Coined By; me

• Flags By; me

• Flag Meaning; colors that remind me of being in bed while daylight still softly glows. Patterns that are usually associated with sleep/sleepiness (like striped pajamas, there are stripes on the bedsheets). The pillow in the corner and the comforter folded over to show the lighter underside. The second/middle flag is a simplified version for those that wish to use it elsewhere.

• Related To; Putenain , Pilwegender , Foscouvian , Genderblanket , Soporine , Somnigender , Sleepygender , Sleepyleite , and more

This gender is not exclusive to anyone

This post was spurred to actually be written/posted by day 3 in @noxwithoutstars coning event 😊

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[page-2-ids]

Soporipresentic: A gender that presents itself in a Soporine way. Can be used as a descriptor for other terms

The colors are inspired by the Soporine flag

No suggested pronouns

[gargandliamcoins]

Subsomnusalicafeelic

sub-sohm-nuss-AH-lih-cuh-feel-ick: A -feelic gender related to the feeling of slowly being lulled to sleep by a sleeping spell. This gender may also feel a sense of drowsiness, comfort in sleep, and falling asleep on a fluffy cloud!

Etymology: Sub: under in latin Somnus: sleep in latin Alica: spell in latin

Day 7 [Magic/Spells/Stars] of @noxwithoutstars Coining Event!

Alternate versions under the cut!

Coined by Mod🐋

[zaptrapp]

How do Rex/Wolffe/Gregor girlies sleep knowing they're safe for the Bad Batch finale:

How do Hunter/Wrecker/Crosshair/Echo/Howzer/Cody girlies sleep:

[mikichko]

just waking up delirious from a nap but cant get rid of the idea of price being interrogated by your friends.

night after your housewarming party, he steps out of your room bare chested and sweatpants low on his hips and finds your friends waiting for him.

they’ve never seen or heard of this man before. you only introduced him last night as john. the only indication of anything between the two of you was a constant point of contact between you two all night.

the questions start right away. name, age, occupation, how you met, what his intentions are. it’s all very entertaining to him, being on the other side of an incredibly juvenile interrogation attempt.

he takes it in stride though, not faltering for a moment as he starts to make himself a cup of coffee. price. ignores the age question, honestly kids these days lack decency and decorum. government worker. met at a bar. just trying to be a good man.

they don’t miss the way he doesn’t fumble through your kitchen. instead, moving through it with precision, knowing where every single item is.

and then finally, “what are you to them?” asked by the one in the back with curls, broad shoulders, and anger in his eyes that warms price all throughout. he doesn’t know he’s already lost.

he takes a sip of his coffee, mulling over the question and the last few months. shared drinks in the dark corner of an already shady pub. carrying your groceries in after you nearly tripped over yourself walking out of the store. books traded back and forth on park benches adorning a pond. stories repeated over a hot plate of dinner, the warmth softening john just a little more. your nails digging into his shoulders, legs wrapped around him, his mouth peppering kisses against your neck and mouthing words he can’t say out loud just yet.

he smiles against the rim of the cup, taking another swig.

“i’m, their caretaker.”

[sentient-forest]

#cecilsweep and Welcome to Night Vale trending #1 in 2023

[epsilonplus]

please reblog I am deeply curious

[feminist-affirmations]

[aureum-cordis]

Lost & Found

Parental!DogDay & Child!Reader

A/N: Hey there! First post, I know, but I couldn’t help but share this. A friend of mine encouraged me to, so I hope other people like it as well! This is only the first part and I have much more planned for this story, I hope you enjoy! I know this ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but that may or may not be intentional. Find Part 2 here!

Spoilers for Poppy Playtime Chapter 3: Deep Sleep!

Warnings: Mentions of character death, blood, gore, and the like. Child experimentation will also be mentioned. This story will contain references to the information in the game as well, if uncomfortable with any of those topics then please proceed with caution.

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DogDay and the others knew well that something was amiss in the building, several of the Smiling Critters had sought him out due to the fact that he was the leader. CatNap was the only one that had been distant for a long time now, becoming something that he couldn’t recognize.

And then it happened. The Hour of Joy. The metallic scent of blood was something he could never rid his nose of, his ears still rang from the sound of screaming from both children and adults. The Prototype had clearly been convincing the cat of the Smiling Critters, for nothing but praises fell out for the creature amongst that dreaded red gas that poured out of his perpetually gaping maw.

DogDay had been able to reach the others first, encouraging them to not stand idly by and follow something as monstrous as The Prototype and his newly fashioned pawn.

It ended poorly, their rebellion was met with nightmarish hallucinations and a set of claws that sliced their bodies to ribbons.

Even they were not impervious to the red gas that covered the ground like a dense fog, announcing CatNap’s presence before he could be seen. Few of them remained, far less than what once was. They rotated hideouts regularly, knowing well that they had to keep moving to avoid CatNap’s patrols.

Currently, the place they had sought refuge in was some long abandoned room of the orphanage. Those that remained were silent.

CraftyCorn was frantically drawing something on a dirtied sheet of paper, the colors bleeding against her hooves as she struggled to keep a steady grip.

Bobby BearHug was huddled in a corner, clutching a blanket that was shredded in places and nearly fell apart as she held it to her chest, her body shook from silent sobs or perhaps fear of what would come.

DogDay himself was solemn, resting on the floor with his back pressed against the wall. They had just lost Hoppy days prior, or at least it had seemed like days. Any semblance of a concept of time was lost in this pit of despair, the inability to even catch a glimpse of light that wasn’t artificial was disheartening and disorienting. The others in the room were in no state to actively patrol, their minds in shambles and in various states of decay.

There was no optimism to be found, he knew that. Any attempt to even lighten the mood would be met with dismay and the kind of disgust that caused nausea to wash over oneself and clouded any other senses. They had lost far too many for any form of joy to be found.

CatNap may have been the one to end their lives, following the guiding hand of The Prototype, but their blood was also on his hands. Their screams kept him awake, the fear in their voices as they called out and weeped for help kept him going.

Slowly, he rose from his seated position to his feet, the sun pendant that hung from his zipper clinked against the metal with the motion and swung gently before resting against his chest. It was enough of a sound to draw the eyes of CraftyCorn, to which DogDay gave a dip of his head. “I’m sorry to startle you, that wasn’t my intention,” he started, voice rough and scratchy from disuse as he met the eyes of the other.

“I’ll take the first watch, be safe and try to get some rest, please.” The please sounded pathetic in his own ears, a sign that despite his attempts to remain strong for the other survivors, he was suffering from the grief and loss of their shared companions.

The idea of losing them too was something he refused to linger on, a small sliver of hope remained in his heart despite the horrors that threatened their very lives.

CraftyCorn didn’t seem to mind the interruption, even going as far as lowering her hooves as she looked over at him, the red crayon in her grasp rolled to the floor with a quiet thump. “Be careful, DogDay.” Her voice was soft, it was a comfort in this trying time. As gentle as the very petals of the flower she once smelled like, an extension of her kind yet hardy nature.

He wanted to reassure her, to give her some hope that he might return. But that wasn’t a guarantee, he knew that.

Regardless, he nodded before approaching the door, opening it slightly before listening carefully for any sounds. Relieved to have been met with relative silence, he crept through the door before shutting it behind him. Complete silence was impossible for him to achieve, given his size and the overall state of the orphanage itself.

His movements were slow and deliberate, each placement of his hand or foot was mindful of the debris that lined the halls. Shattered picture frames with glass littering the floor and various toys that had once belonged to the children here were a common item to stumble across. There had been moments when the odd toy activated or some rotting piece of wood snapped under the pressure of a bed that rested upon it, but it was silent other than that.

His ears were active in keeping note of his surroundings, as his nose focused on the horrible scent of lavender and the intensity of it. It stuck to every crack and crevice of this building, yet it was relatively faint at the given moment, a positive in an otherwise grim situation. His eyes swept every open door that he passed by, peering into the room for several moments before moving on. To say he was tense and alert was an understatement, every fiber of his being stood on edge as he patrolled the halls.

He froze in his tracks as a sound caught his attention, a sound that he hadn’t been expecting to come across. It had been a sob, a shuddering and weak sound that left from an open door in front of him. Had he not been focused as intently as he was, he could’ve missed it. DogDay stayed in that position as he listened further, making sure that he hadn’t been imagining such a sound. His doubts were shattered as he heard the sound repeat, the fear in the weeping was unmistakable.

The thought didn’t even cross his mind that it could potentially be a trap, that some sick monster would be willing to mimic such a heartbreaking sound.

[king-k-ripple]

[patroclusdefencesquad]

"jaskier isn't gay they ruined his character!!!" actually jaskier was bisexual from the moment he saw geralt across a crowded tavern and slut walked his way across that room like That to talk to him so just jot that down

[ellievenus]

Saw that your requests were opened and I can’t stop thinking of having sex with Lyney in his bedroom in the house of hearth trying not to get caught by a none and him putting his hand on your mouth to keep you quiet 🤭🤭

Songbird

Characters: Lyney x Gender Neutral!Reader

A/N: .. went kinda bonkers about this. no i am not favoring lyney requests, i am not, nope. not proofread!

NSFW under the cut.

“Lyney… here?”

You signed, folding your arms over your chest and looking at your boyfriend with an irritated look, which he returns with a wink.

You guys were flirting after one of his shows and things got… way too heated. You weren’t about to fuck backstage and get caught by Lynette, that would be a fucking nightmare.

He smiled and lightly touched your arm, you hated how easy it was for him to just… make you listen. He slowly and gently takes a hold of your hand, admiring the way your hand looked intertwined with his own. Then he looked at you with those eyes you know that screams ‘I’m up to no good.”

“Awh, c’mon love, it’s not like it’ll be our first time here!”

He purred, making sure to lower his voice to the tone that he knows gets you going. You blush and avert your eyes, though your hand tightens its hold on his, making him smile.

You sigh and look at him again,

“I know that, and I also recall us almost getting caught.”

There’s no venom in your words, you both know you want to do this, Lyney just has to push one more button and you would become putty in his hands.

His free hand went to your lower back, tracing a star shape, looking up at you with a teasing expression,

“Well that was because a certain somebody couldn’t stop making noises.”

He just knows how to push your buttons a little too well.

“Fine. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He’s being unfair. He’s gripping your waist and digging his nails into your skin while pounding into your hole so fucking rough the sensation overwhelms you with pain and pleasure at the same time so deliciously you feel like you’re gonna burst any moment.

Your breaths are quick, whining and moaning Lyney’s name over and over as his thrusts become even faster, more rough, and he watches you with a small smile on his lips.

You writhe under him when you cum, cry out so loud let alone the house of Hearth people in the court must have heard you when he doesn’t stop, his thrusts don’t relent, fucking his own cum into you when he shivers and just keeps going, his breathy and whiny moans of your name that fall off his tongue like a prayer just adding to the absolute pleasure and pain he’s drowning you in.

“Lyney- fuck- ah fuck- too fast- you’re going to fast, Lyney-!”

He moans and buries his cock inside you, still for a moment as he catches his breath and his slowly travels from your stomach, leaving a scorching feeling in their wake, and he taps your lips.

“Open up, baby.”

It’s sudden, his voice, the way his body glistens under the moonlight and the way he just fucking says that makes you obey like a fucking dog. He coos as he pushes two fingers inside your mouth, rubbing the tips of them on your tongue.

He starts moving again, now snapping his hips and making sure that every inch of his cock is inside you before pulling out again and doing it over and over again until you’re a crying mess once more.

He pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth. Dropping his voice to a sweet whisper,

“Hush songbird, you don’t want to get us caught do you? be good for me.”

You whimper pathetically and both of your hands find his arm, you start sucking, which helps with muffling your sounds. He looks pleased and resumes his pace, he isn’t going to stop until he’s had his fill of you, until you’re dripping with so much of his cum that it starts to run down his dick and he fucks it back into you. He missed you so much, after all, so be good and take it.

“There’s a good songbird…”

[comradekatara]

“if sokka had been sexist in front of toph she would’ve straight up killed him” if sokka had been sexist in front of toph she would’ve given him a high five and said “right on brother.” she’s way more misogynistic than he is

[nico-di-genova]

Strollonso girlies, we will never know loss.

[not-yet-asleep]

"Not all men"

You're right, Bildad the shuhite would never