doginasillyhat - Tumblr blog

[doginasillyhat]

to be fair inherently the relationship will be a bit unhealthy. just not super toxic level. so hopefully it’s enough for you!!

cannibalism fic thoughts. trying very hard not to let this seep into mild toxicity. it’s not my intention but i’m very hopeful that it doesn’t SOUND like that. i’m probably overthinking the tone im writing but im always worried about people misinterpreting lol

[doginasillyhat]

cannibalism fic thoughts. trying very hard not to let this seep into mild toxicity. it’s not my intention but i’m very hopeful that it doesn’t SOUND like that. i’m probably overthinking the tone im writing but im always worried about people misinterpreting lol

[doginasillyhat]

“Hoping at least in Australia you don't go into massive amount of debt as a result of getting educated, at least.”

well yeah, but luckily it’s debt that i don’t have to pay until i have a big girl job and i can start paying it off bit by bit (i haven’t looked at how much i owe in hecs debt yet and frankly im too scared because of the aforementioned four years doing classes elsewhere lmao)

so fun hat trivia i’m a part time uni student. i fucking hate that shit but i want to be an archivist SO BAD!!! that’s my dream career. i’m like two years and four failed courses (all mental health/outside issue related like family illness and death) into it and. ugh. i’m TIRED man i just want to work in archives please. and now the internet is telling me that i need a MASTERS?????

[doginasillyhat]

mood actually because before i gave up and went into a bach of arts for something im actually interested in i took four years (did not graduate it was a whole thing too long to explain) of secondary teaching and. literally in australia at least they’re complaining that there’s not enough teachers but

like if you just stopped being so crazy intense about it. people could go into teaching earlier. so many people i know got burnt out doing four years of college only to get a degree and not use it. we did at LEAST two units of the exact same classroom behaviour management. that course did NOT have to be that long 💀💀💀💀

so fun hat trivia i’m a part time uni student. i fucking hate that shit but i want to be an archivist SO BAD!!! that’s my dream career. i’m like two years and four failed courses (all mental health/outside issue related like family illness and death) into it and. ugh. i’m TIRED man i just want to work in archives please. and now the internet is telling me that i need a MASTERS?????

[doginasillyhat]

worm ur so right hes so pathetic loser boyfailure core im immensely glad that comes across its key to his characterisation

yo gang another hiccup fic. if the pacing is off i’m so sorry i shaved like 600 words off it because it got too off topic. also i think the lack of more hiccuping is because im still getting used to writing this stuff without being embarrassed LMAO

cannibalism fic coming soon :) started it today and it is Very Fun hehe

content warning for:

not a lot! hiccuping mostly, but there’s no real obvious arousal from skipper. she’s just kind of into her husband all around. but it was WRITTEN for kink enjoyment even if there’s like none of it because of the aforementioned deep rooted embarrassment within myself. i luv my ocs guyse :)

Skipper yawned, put the car in park, and took a moment in the car to breathe. She loved modeling deeply - her choice in career path was not something that she’d ever regret. But she had just spent six hours on set wearing sundresses for the upcoming spring season in the chill of mid-winter, her hair and makeup constantly switching to match the next design she was modeling. It was a wonder that her extremities hadn’t frozen off yet. It felt close to it.

Now, in the comfort of the heated car, wearing her favourite moss green cardigan with the cute little embroidered sheep on the pockets, Skipper could exist in silence for the first time that day.

She loved her husband. Honestly, the only thing getting her through the day was the joy that came bubbling under the surface, knowing that Elliot was waiting for her. His day off had coincided with the gig, unfortunately, but Elliot had promised that he’d do all the chores for her so that she had nothing to worry about. Skipper loved it when he acted all househusband-y; one day she’d convince him to wear that little apron she had bought. Although, she knew he’d probably rather die than wear it, even if it was only for her in the safety of their bedroom.

Taking one more breath, Skipper opened the door to her car and stepped out into the cool winter air. Her boots clicked against the concrete pathway that led from the driveway to the house. The house was on the smaller side, coloured a soft brown with a dark roof, shrubbery sitting beside the three steps that led up to the front door. She gazed at the plant life. It would be time to clip it back soon.

She opened the door and stepped inside. Immediately the warm of the heater burrowed into her cold skin, warming her from inside out. She shrugged off the cardigan, draping it over her arm.

“Hi baby, I’m home.”

Elliot didn’t answer. She assumed that the man couldn’t hear her over the sound of the television. The television wasn’t usually up so loud. It wasn’t worrying, of course; just confusing.

She sat by the front door on the little bench they kept close by, taking off her boots and then sitting them by the door, all nice and ordered, before she made her way deeper into the house.

The hallway led to an archway to the right, which led into the living room. The television was on, of course, showing some kind of superhero film from Netflix. She could see Elliot’s socked feet hanging over the side of the couch. He was too tall for the couch when he tried to lay on it lengthwise. Skipper herself was close to being too tall.

“Hey,” she greeted her husband, leaning over the back of the couch to press a kiss to his head. He flinched in surprise, rolling onto his back to meet her gaze. He looked bashfully at her.

“Hi,” he answered, voice tense. There was a pause before he answered again, chest jumping.

Skipper raised a brow, lips curling into an amused smile. “Hi,” she said for the third time. “You good?”

“Yeah - hmk! Ugh. Hiccups.”

His cheeks flushed, he cleared his throat, only causing another squeaky hip! to escape his lips.

“Why’s the television up so high?”

“I’m- hmk! I’m losing f- hilp! focus. The,” another pause, and he visibly tried to swallow back another hiccup. “Hiccups are too loud.”

Skipper giggled, finding the situation quite funny, and super cute. Gosh, everything Elliot did was so cute.

“Hmm, that’s no good,” she teased, walking around the couch to perch herself on the edge of the couch, her manicured fingers carding through his hair. Elliot’s lips were pressed together. He had bemoaned at length that he disliked how squeaky his hiccups were, and indeed, they were. At least, for more masculine standards. It wasn’t like Skipper had a lot of experience hearing men hiccup, really, having spent her childhood in private all-girl schools, and then years in a female modeling agency surrounded by women.

Elliot didn’t seem particularly bothered by the hiccups, but he had always been more inclined to embarrassment than anything. He was soft, easily flustered. Years of walking around in front of strangers in dresses barely covering her backside, tripping over her own heels, or her skirt catching and ripping on snags in sets had left Skipper less prone to embarrassment, able to take things in stride better than her husband.

“It’s been.. HUP!” (at that surprisingly loud hiccup, Elliot flushed deeper and shifted his gaze away from Skipper) “It’s b-hilk! been like, forty-five mhilk! minutes since it started.”

Skipper made a sympathetic hum. “Guessing nothing helped?”

He shook his head, eyes trained on the television. “I mhk! I did chores, by the way.”

Smiling, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his head again. “Oh, you’re a sweetheart. You’re perfect.”

Flustered, Elliot sat up and pushed Skipper away. His head rocked back as another hiccup, sufficiently muffled by his closed mouth, thumped his chest. Clearing his throat, he knocked his elbow with hers.

“‘m not per- HMK! perfect, Skipper.”

“You are, but sure. Let’s pretend, for like, a minute that you aren’t - what’s your damage babe! I think it’s at the very very super duper least that, like, doing all the chores is a perfectly gentlemanly thing to do for your wife!”

Elliot considered that, exhaling slowly through his nose, the action interspersed with his hiccups. His face screwed up. “I d- hmk! don’t know if I hulp! agree, Skip.”

Sitting herself on her husband’s lap, the blonde giggled. Her thin hands cupped his cheeks, thumbs brushing over his skin, and then slowly trailed down his neck, his chest. Her eyes shifted to her hands, watching as they jumped every time his chest did. She could feel his heart thumping against her palms through the fabric of his shirt.

“Hmm, did I ask if you agreed?” She teased. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion. Why are you so against it, anyway!”

Skipper leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his. He responded by opening his mouth to protest, although with another soft hiccup he closed his mouth again. She kissed the tip of his nose, moving down to kiss his throat. The feeling of the hitching against her lips was euphoric. He whined softly at her kissing. Having him at her mercy was always her favorite.

“Hilp! Stop, Skipper,” he huffed, another sharp hiccup interrupting his breathing as he exhaled shakily. Skipper’s teeth caught the soft skin of his throat, letting out a quiet giggle, her lips sucking at his skin.

“Not until you stop ruining this with your hiccups.”

Almost instinctively, Elliot pointedly held his breath, Skipper pulling back and grinning at her husband. Her hands rested on his chest, waiting impatiently.

[doginasillyhat]

yo gang another hiccup fic. if the pacing is off i’m so sorry i shaved like 600 words off it because it got too off topic. also i think the lack of more hiccuping is because im still getting used to writing this stuff without being embarrassed LMAO

cannibalism fic coming soon :) started it today and it is Very Fun hehe

content warning for:

not a lot! hiccuping mostly, but there’s no real obvious arousal from skipper. she’s just kind of into her husband all around. but it was WRITTEN for kink enjoyment even if there’s like none of it because of the aforementioned deep rooted embarrassment within myself. i luv my ocs guyse :)

Skipper yawned, put the car in park, and took a moment in the car to breathe. She loved modeling deeply - her choice in career path was not something that she’d ever regret. But she had just spent six hours on set wearing sundresses for the upcoming spring season in the chill of mid-winter, her hair and makeup constantly switching to match the next design she was modeling. It was a wonder that her extremities hadn’t frozen off yet. It felt close to it.

Now, in the comfort of the heated car, wearing her favourite moss green cardigan with the cute little embroidered sheep on the pockets, Skipper could exist in silence for the first time that day.

She loved her husband. Honestly, the only thing getting her through the day was the joy that came bubbling under the surface, knowing that Elliot was waiting for her. His day off had coincided with the gig, unfortunately, but Elliot had promised that he’d do all the chores for her so that she had nothing to worry about. Skipper loved it when he acted all househusband-y; one day she’d convince him to wear that little apron she had bought. Although, she knew he’d probably rather die than wear it, even if it was only for her in the safety of their bedroom.

Taking one more breath, Skipper opened the door to her car and stepped out into the cool winter air. Her boots clicked against the concrete pathway that led from the driveway to the house. The house was on the smaller side, coloured a soft brown with a dark roof, shrubbery sitting beside the three steps that led up to the front door. She gazed at the plant life. It would be time to clip it back soon.

She opened the door and stepped inside. Immediately the warm of the heater burrowed into her cold skin, warming her from inside out. She shrugged off the cardigan, draping it over her arm.

“Hi baby, I’m home.”

Elliot didn’t answer. She assumed that the man couldn’t hear her over the sound of the television. The television wasn’t usually up so loud. It wasn’t worrying, of course; just confusing.

She sat by the front door on the little bench they kept close by, taking off her boots and then sitting them by the door, all nice and ordered, before she made her way deeper into the house.

The hallway led to an archway to the right, which led into the living room. The television was on, of course, showing some kind of superhero film from Netflix. She could see Elliot’s socked feet hanging over the side of the couch. He was too tall for the couch when he tried to lay on it lengthwise. Skipper herself was close to being too tall.

“Hey,” she greeted her husband, leaning over the back of the couch to press a kiss to his head. He flinched in surprise, rolling onto his back to meet her gaze. He looked bashfully at her.

“Hi,” he answered, voice tense. There was a pause before he answered again, chest jumping.

Skipper raised a brow, lips curling into an amused smile. “Hi,” she said for the third time. “You good?”

“Yeah - hmk! Ugh. Hiccups.”

His cheeks flushed, he cleared his throat, only causing another squeaky hip! to escape his lips.

“Why’s the television up so high?”

“I’m- hmk! I’m losing f- hilp! focus. The,” another pause, and he visibly tried to swallow back another hiccup. “Hiccups are too loud.”

Skipper giggled, finding the situation quite funny, and super cute. Gosh, everything Elliot did was so cute.

“Hmm, that’s no good,” she teased, walking around the couch to perch herself on the edge of the couch, her manicured fingers carding through his hair. Elliot’s lips were pressed together. He had bemoaned at length that he disliked how squeaky his hiccups were, and indeed, they were. At least, for more masculine standards. It wasn’t like Skipper had a lot of experience hearing men hiccup, really, having spent her childhood in private all-girl schools, and then years in a female modeling agency surrounded by women.

Elliot didn’t seem particularly bothered by the hiccups, but he had always been more inclined to embarrassment than anything. He was soft, easily flustered. Years of walking around in front of strangers in dresses barely covering her backside, tripping over her own heels, or her skirt catching and ripping on snags in sets had left Skipper less prone to embarrassment, able to take things in stride better than her husband.

“It’s been.. HUP!” (at that surprisingly loud hiccup, Elliot flushed deeper and shifted his gaze away from Skipper) “It’s b-hilk! been like, forty-five mhilk! minutes since it started.”

Skipper made a sympathetic hum. “Guessing nothing helped?”

He shook his head, eyes trained on the television. “I mhk! I did chores, by the way.”

Smiling, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his head again. “Oh, you’re a sweetheart. You’re perfect.”

Flustered, Elliot sat up and pushed Skipper away. His head rocked back as another hiccup, sufficiently muffled by his closed mouth, thumped his chest. Clearing his throat, he knocked his elbow with hers.

“‘m not per- HMK! perfect, Skipper.”

“You are, but sure. Let’s pretend, for like, a minute that you aren’t - what’s your damage babe! I think it’s at the very very super duper least that, like, doing all the chores is a perfectly gentlemanly thing to do for your wife!”

Elliot considered that, exhaling slowly through his nose, the action interspersed with his hiccups. His face screwed up. “I d- hmk! don’t know if I hulp! agree, Skip.”

Sitting herself on her husband’s lap, the blonde giggled. Her thin hands cupped his cheeks, thumbs brushing over his skin, and then slowly trailed down his neck, his chest. Her eyes shifted to her hands, watching as they jumped every time his chest did. She could feel his heart thumping against her palms through the fabric of his shirt.

“Hmm, did I ask if you agreed?” She teased. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion. Why are you so against it, anyway!”

Skipper leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his. He responded by opening his mouth to protest, although with another soft hiccup he closed his mouth again. She kissed the tip of his nose, moving down to kiss his throat. The feeling of the hitching against her lips was euphoric. He whined softly at her kissing. Having him at her mercy was always her favorite.

“Hilp! Stop, Skipper,” he huffed, another sharp hiccup interrupting his breathing as he exhaled shakily. Skipper’s teeth caught the soft skin of his throat, letting out a quiet giggle, her lips sucking at his skin.

“Not until you stop ruining this with your hiccups.”

Almost instinctively, Elliot pointedly held his breath, Skipper pulling back and grinning at her husband. Her hands rested on his chest, waiting impatiently.

[doginasillyhat]

so fun hat trivia i’m a part time uni student. i fucking hate that shit but i want to be an archivist SO BAD!!! that’s my dream career. i’m like two years and four failed courses (all mental health/outside issue related like family illness and death) into it and. ugh. i’m TIRED man i just want to work in archives please. and now the internet is telling me that i need a MASTERS?????

[doginasillyhat]

OH MY GOD THERE WAS ANOTHER CUP AND SAUCER AND THEN AN EXTRA PLATE SHE THREW IN??? HELLO???? ALL FOR 20$?????

still not sure what to do about the peter rabbit one in there. i didn’t want to ask her not to sell me that one that felt rude lmao. guess. i’ll see if i can rearrange my room to fit all of this

tomorrow off. get 2 pick up some more bunnykins things from fb marketplace (i rlly don’t have room for a new collection but three items for 20$??? fuck yeah)

snuggle w the doggie. finish off the elliot and skipper fic (it’s like more than halfway done!! yay!!) and then FINALLY. cannibalism fic hehe. i’m still torn on doing it in second person (favourite way to write) or third person (an excuse to fully develop a new oc)…. i guess we’ll see

[doginasillyhat]

i think if i knew how to play the banjo i would be unstoppable. in peak form if u will

[doginasillyhat]

i want to stop fantasising about piss. i want to actually indulge myself in talking about people about it. get right into it.

[doginasillyhat]

tomorrow off. get 2 pick up some more bunnykins things from fb marketplace (i rlly don’t have room for a new collection but three items for 20$??? fuck yeah)

snuggle w the doggie. finish off the elliot and skipper fic (it’s like more than halfway done!! yay!!) and then FINALLY. cannibalism fic hehe. i’m still torn on doing it in second person (favourite way to write) or third person (an excuse to fully develop a new oc)…. i guess we’ll see

[doginasillyhat]

i’m not one to get aroused by my own piss but GOD being so full of alcohol on a night out needing to piss so badly but having 2 wait 45 minutes to get home. i wish there was someone with me feeling the same. i could jork it to that rn

[doginasillyhat]

JUST LEARNED THAT THE CREEPY WEIRDO AT WORK WHO KEEPS TRYING TO GET ME TO GO GET DRINKS WITH HIM OR GIVE ME HIS MONEY HE WINS ON LOTTO TRIED TO FOLLOW AN OLD CO WORKER OUT TO HER CAR???

shoutout to the current co workers tho for being like “yeah he’s super weird about hat dw we can serve him for u xx”

[doginasillyhat]

no actually i def agree with the hiccup headcanon (hiccanon) there. very gulpy. i’d like to think of it like bro gets hiccups so little that their body kinda flails and doesn’t know what to do lmao. maybe a little unevenly paced too

Atticus' Hiccups

Out of (egotistical) curiosity, what do you all think Atticus' hiccups sound like?

I've still been out of luck at producing some of my own (I even tried @anonymoususer-25's throat widening letting air in method. Closest I've got, but still not the jackpot). And I do sort of seek to separate myself a little from Atticus so I can develop their character more without putting myself into them so deeply. (And you all seem to really want Atticus to experience them.)

Feel free to post any links to videos/audio* with hiccups you think are similar to Atticus' as well (if you feel comfortable).

(*18+ only, please.)

Wax poetic about my selfishly created self-insert. :puts head in hands and kicks feet off side of chair:

Additionally: because I haven't had hiccups in a VERY LONG TIME, I'd love to hear about your experiences having hiccups. I've sort of forgotten what they've felt like, honestly. Nothing sexual, just what does it FEEL like? (It's for research. /gen)

[doginasillyhat]

is this a safe space guys…. i gotta admit that the last like. week my brain has been circling back to my adoration for cannibalism as a metaphor for love and then inserting hiccups into the equation. i’m NOT a gore writer im not saying that shit would be disgustingly graphic BUT is this something that people wouldn’t like to see at all? i’ll write it regardless but i won’t post it anywhere if nobody wants to see it

[doginasillyhat]

CASS AND JON PISS FIC JUST KEEPS GETTING LONGER i think i need to take the L and put it away as a weird lore piece for future writing lmao. skipper/elliot hicfic coming tomorrow ig then lol

[doginasillyhat]

I HAVE LITERALLY BEEN WRITING THIS ONE FIC FOR HOURS. i keep rewriting passages. the thought was “oh it’s cassandra in bed with her husband and then he pisses on her” but now it’s? cassandra fearful of the state of her marriage, her husband doing the first selfless thing in bed and pleasuring her instead of the other way around, cassie grappling with her deep rooted desire to be taken care of instead of the other way around for once and finding it in jonathan letting her sexual gratification come first and foremost when she exists for the rest of her life to raise children and be a good housewife

(he’s going to pee on her still but like i said the pee is a metaphor for her lust and jon’s hesitance to give her what she wants)

please just let me jork it to piss without it being a whole thing