#if anyone cared

[painsandconfusion]

Ethan's Ship

Whumping the Whumpers - Part Forty-four

(tw: death threat, torture mention, manhandling, knife, fluff) [Previous | Masterpost | Next]

Ethan ignored how the wooden chair dug in against the bruises in his back. The rest of the position was comfortable, so he remained lounging there, slumped with feet kicked up on the corner of the dining table. Crossed and cozy as he carved dry, flaking blood out from under his nails with a pocketknife. No matter how many passes he took, there always seemed to be a little more pressed up against the tender white skin that hid beneath the keratin. Strange how parts of the body could be so dark while others were so bright. How blood gathers in one place more than another. How the crevices and curves seemed to suck in the wrongness and blight.

Human bodies had always fascinated him. He never had any interest in studying them at a medical level. To some extent, that seemed like disrespecting the body. Studying it to the point that you knew every sinew and cell by name depersonalized it. It took away from the glory and wonder of the gore and put a focus on the mechanical, computeristic labels. Neat, pretty diagrams where flesh is held back by calipers took so much beauty out of the scene.

He’d much rather rip someone open himself and have the lines between flesh, fat, and bone be blurred and smudged by welling blood. He didn’t need to know what the terminology was. He only really cared for feeling the warmth under his fingers.

Pass by pass, the little blade scraped and carved away both the dust of the nail itself and the little flakes and freckles of black so they fluttered down to his shirt or the floor. He’d sweep it up later if Nate didn’t get to it first.

That man was so strange. Ethan hadn’t ever greatly disliked household chores, but he certainly didn’t love them. Yet, cleaning seemed to be a comfort to Nate. When the bitch was stressed, he’d mop or shove cleaners and ice down the garbage disposal. He’d scrub down the toilets and sanitize the railings. Wax the key-holes or scrub at grout with a wire-bristled brush.

It didn’t make sense to Ethan, but he did appreciate not having to do much. Nate could snap at him for leaving plates or sweatshirts around the house, but he never seemed to expect Ethan to do any actual cleaning. If Ethan got to it first, fine. If he didn’t, Nate never brought it up.

Still, Ethan would make sure this got taken care of. He wasn’t going to leave blood around the house. Even if it wasn’t very visible, he wanted no evidence of there being people in the basement, and Nate agreed. Downstairs was for mess and blood. Upstairs was for bright, fresh order.

His train of thought was interrupted by the front door clicking open. It was locked unless Ethan’s bracelet with a computer chip embedded came close to it. It was a simple thing. Braided black leather. Thin enough it might just look like a hair-tie to the naked eye. He could take it on and off at will. Without it, Ethan hadn’t been able to escape this house. He’d needed to get ahold of the chip that was in Nate’s watch instead.

Ethan wondered if Nate had moved that chip by now. If it was still in his easily-removed smartwatch, or if he’d wisened up after Ethan’s escape and had it put into something else instead. Unfortunately, Nate was far too light a sleeper for Ethan to sneak into his room while he slept to swipe it when it was on charge. 

If he ever needed that chip, he would have to play trial and error in the moment.

Hooray.

“E-!?” Nate called out, sending his voice echoing through the house.

“Here,” he responded without much enthusiasm. Just still prodding at a spot of red that wouldn’t leave the innermost corner of his thumb. The dining table was close to the door - just obscured by the grand staircase that cut to the upstairs.

He liked it here. Hiding under the stairs. It was a comfort some days.

“Sup,” Nate greeted, stepping up and dropping a brown-paper-wrapped box in front of Ethan.

Ethan’s eyes admittedly perked up to the box, curious. Still refusing to look at Nate. “...what’s that supposed to be?”

“An apology,” Nate hummed, pulling a chair out and sitting down next to Ethan.

Ethan frowned at it, finally looking to Nate. “Do you think you can buy me off or something?”

Nate shrugs. “No. But I can make life a little more bearable. You’re right. He’s yours, not mine. If we’d switched places, I’d probably have killed you for almost taking him. Soooo… if not an apology, this is a ‘thank you for not killing me’ gift.” He flutter-blinked his eyes to ham up the delivery a bit because of course he did.

Ethan snorted half a laugh, pulling his feet off the table and clicking the knife shut. “What even is it?”

Nate raised a are-you-kidding-me-right-now brow. “...it’s giftwrapped. You’re supposed to open it to find out.”

Ethan sighed, picking at the paper until a corner ripped free. It tore straight across the box in a long strip.

Barely any color shone through that stripe, but Ethan knew exactly what it was. Not which model, of course, but he could see the planks. The gundeck. The edge of the stern.

“..you….got me a boat?”

Nate rolled his eyes, pulling back more of the paper for him. “A model that you can build.”

“I- I mean yeah, dipshit, I know what a model is.”

“Then why are you asking.”

“I wasn’t- This is basically a toy.”

“It’s not like it’s for kids or something. I have it on very good authority that this is ‘tOo DiFiCuLt’ for me to do to, so clearly it’s a very grownup thing.”

Ethan can’t help the laugh that puffs from his chest. “Yeah? Who said that?”

“Oh, no no, you need to hear the whole story-” Nate was standing just enough to straighten his chair - perfectly facing Ethan. He perched on the edge of it, hands poised up and locked in for storytelling.

“..you’re making a big deal out of this-”

“Of course I’m making a b- Do you even hear yourself? Have you met me? ‘BiiiG dEaL’ -Shut up-”

Alright, Ethan could admit he was smiling. “I stand uncorrected.”

“Damn right, you do.” He flicked his pointed finger down toward Ethan’s chair. “Though, the court should note that you are sitting right now.”

And the unimpressed glare was back.

Puns.

“So anyway~” Nate locked back into what seemed to be his official storytelling stance. “So I go into the store, right-?”

No response. Just listening.

Nate held the pause for a few moments before his eyes deadened. “This is where you say ‘yeah’?”

Ethan’s nose scrunched up. “Why? You’re going to tell the story anyway.”

“Oh no no no, I need constant verbal affirmation and engagement.”

“And I have to supply that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why?”

“Do you see anyone else here,” Nate posed, gesturing around the house.

Ethan’s arms crossed, almost playful in this stubbornness. “And if I don’t want to~?”

Nate’s eyes shifted somehow at that challenge - a certain hunger there dragging across Ethan as a spark of intrigue. Nate’s hand clicked open his own knife under the table. He lifted it just enough to drag the point across the table. Not even enough to scratch, yet enough to hum a pitched threat against the wood. “Are you sure about that? I can be very persuasive~”

Ethan couldn’t quite decide if it’d be best here to glare or laugh, so he ended up with something between the two. Darkly amused. “You know you can’t make me do shit.”

“Oh? You seem very confident in that.” Nate rose slowly to his feet, looking down on Ethan for once.

“I am,” Ethan parried, at ease; slumped in his chair.

Nate took a small step closer, touching the knife to Ethan’s shoulder before slowly tracing it across the edge of his collarbone through the fabric of his shirt. “Never say never. I’ve had all kinds of ideas I never got to try out on you.”

Alright, he was tired of being under Nate. He pressed up (happy to see Nate move the knife to keep from cutting him), standing to look down on Nate. The knife did raise with him, though, staying pricked against his chest. Ethan snatched it, twisting it easily and simply out of Nate’s grip. 

He tossed it to the table.

Nate pouted, eyes following the knife. “Oh come on, how am I gonna get you to participate in the story??”

Ethan’s fingers gripped into Nate’s shirt, tugging him closer by it. Slightly upward. “You could always just tell the story.”

Nate’s grin flashed right back onto his face. “Oh, so you do want to know what happened~”

A sigh. “Well now I kinda do, so yeah. Start talking.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed, calculating. “Alright! Good enough for me- So-!” He clapped his hands together, not really caring about the grip on his shirt. “So I go into the store and start browsing, yeah? Not really looking for anything specific, mostly going off vibes.”

A pause.

Nate raised a brow, gesturing to Ethan as if to say ‘It’s your line’.

A sigh dragged out of Ethan’s chest with all the silent subtlety of a rusted bumper dragging behind an oldsmobile up the highway. “Y e a h ?” he forced out, the single syllable somehow multiplied and beaten out his throat with punched pronunciation.

Nate’s smirk made a reappearance, so fucking proud of himself for getting Ethan to play along. “There you go~ Very affirming thank you.”

Ethan shoved him backward, watching Nate flail until he landed hard in his chair again.

Sitting up immediately, Nate seemed unperturbed. “So I picked this one out right away and this lady who was working there came over to ask if I needed help.”

Ethan watched, waiting for Nate to continue as he sat back in his own chair. Nate did not continue. Just waiting for Ethan. 

Ugh.

Well, he wasn’t in the mood to have that petty fight again, so he prompted- “And?” As pointedly as possible.

“And I asked her about the kit. The lady looked me up and down and had the audacity to say ‘are you sure you can handle this model?’ Like. In the bitchiest voice you can imagine.”

“Ooo- she sure showed you.”

“Yeah yeah whatever- anyway- She said she didn’t want to sell it to me. Insisted that I wouldn’t be able to handle it and would bring it back for a refund all ruined. So I had to ask for the manager and it was a whole thing.”

Ethan breathed a laugh, reaching forward to pick up and examine the box. “Yeah, okay Karen.” He flipped it over, eyeing the pieces and the complexity of the details. “...wait this one? This is the one she said you couldn’t make??”

“...yeah-?”

Another laugh snickered out of him as he popped open one of the flaps and rummaged under the cardboard to pick out the info sheet. “This is like… level two or something, Nate-”

Nate’s nose scrunched up. “What does that mean?”

“It means you must have looked pretty pathetic to her if she didn't think you could do it.” He hummed, looking over Nate with pity in his eyes and a pout on his lips. “I’m not sure I disagree,” he cooed.

Nate scoffed a laugh. “Um- rude-??”

A shrug as he looked back to the paper, unfolding it to see how many stages there were. “Just saying.”

“So you think you can do it, but I can’t??”

“Yeah, pretty much. Too bad I’m not building it.”

Nate pressed a hand to his chest, practically clutching his pears. “You would just throw this away after I went to all that work to get it for you???”

“Uh-huh-” He was just a bit distracted looking over the instructions. It was a good size. Absolutely huge. A statement piece rather than simple decor or a project. He didn’t even know where they’d put it…

“Ethan, if you don’t build this, I’m going to build it myself and paint it with your blood.”

“Mm. Very nice visual,” he murmured, plucking up some of the planks to survey them. They were.. admittedly a great quality. He didn’t think they’d split under the tacks. Each plank separate and perfect rather than the cheap full-decked pieces that department store models had.

“I thought so, thanks.”

So much missing, though… cheap sets assume you don’t have the essential tools and include shit versions of them. Better models do have faith in you, and therefore give you nothing.. “I don’t think this comes with half of the supplies we need to build it. You’ll have to go back to the store.”

“Oh no, fuck that. Drive to the store yourself.”

The corner of Ethan’s mouth twitched up slightly as he pulled out the rope. It was so well corded for being so small. Incredibly realistic. Far better than the little bits of string the others he worked on had.

“..yeah okay, have fun with that,” Nate eventually said after there was no response. He Stood, swiping his knife back up and closing it.

“I’m not gonna build it, I’m just looking.”

Ethan could feel eyes on him, but didn’t bother looking back. He started pulling more things out, compiling the pieces of the project into a line by what stage of building he’d need them in.

“...uh huh. I’m making coffee - you want some while you work?”

“Oh- yeah sure, thanks,” he muttered, distracted as he ripped open the package with the ribs inside.

“No problem.”

Things quieted down again after that. No one spoke again for hours once Nate had brought the steaming mugs through to the table. They just sipped at coffee as Nate sketched and Ethan planned out what he’d need to get to put this monster together.

David might not be here to help him build this one, yet it still seemed that he was somewhere much closer than before; as if he were secretly watching Ethan work from some corner of the room, whiskey in hand. Just another ship they’d build together.

[Previous | Masterpost | Next]

tags: @prisonerwhump

@whumpawink

@wormwriting

@distinctlywhumpthing

@whump-cafe

@jo-doe-seeking-inspo

@azayta

@batfacedliar-yetagain

@there-will-always-be-blood

@siren-of-agony

@whumpworld

@deltaxxk

@whumpasaurus101

@pickywhumpreader

@whumpberry-cookie

@morning-star-whump

@nailevislev

@throwawaywhumper

@the-mourning-star

@d-cs

@pigeonwhumps

@suspicious-whumping-egg

@snakebites-and-ink

@whumpedydump

@whumplr-reader

@rainbowsandwhumperflies

@starfields08000

@crystallizedme

@lumpofsand

@taterswhump

@starsick1979

As always, lmk if you want to be added to the tag list!

(Sorry for the weird taglist, tumblr has been rude lately)

[ninyard]

For the 0 people that care the full jeremy text said “I hope she knows that I’m gay, though. Pretty sure that’s public knowledge at this point.”

[ashley-is-tired-af]

[moleaboveyourlip]

Never forgiving @fudgecakez on AO3 for writing the most well-written amazing, beautiful byler character study fic and then never writing anything else. They have new book marks from literally days ago so it's not like they have a new account or anything just not writing 😔

[matrim-cauthons-hat]

today's progress on Pavise Atheus. im trying to replicate the camo colours of Aus Defence Force vehicles, but im not sure how its actually going. I still need to figure out a background colour for the coat of arms on the tilt shield too. like i was thinking maybe a dark blue or red, with an attempt at free handing a reindeer head for the coat of arms itself. the gilding too is giving me grief, cos im not sure whether to go with leadbelcher for an iron look, which i think suits the camouflaged appearance better, a light gold which i think just easthetically speaking would make a nice highlight for the green tan and black, or copper to match his wife's night, Vainglory’s Scourge

[kuwkedits]

Karasuno volleyball team are Armys idc. Like hinata cries to the military BANGTAN bombs and post “everything reminds me of him” photos to his insta close friends stories about jin and Hoseok and the photos are along the lines of the sun, whole tuna, happy face stickers, and the RJ key chain that doesn’t leave his bag. Asahi sobbed to both Mono and indigo (so did daichi tho he’d never tell another living soul… Sugawara found him in the equipment closet puffy eyed and red nosed) it freaked Noya out the very first time it happened. Sugawara can’t listen to Euphoria without wanting to scream bc it reminds him of his teammates too much the MV is banned in his presence unless you wanna see a grown adult man sob uncontrollably in the middle of grading spelling worksheets. First year 5 got together at kageyamas home to watch Bang Bang Con while the Third year 4s watched at Kiyokos. The Team has BTS karaoke nights every month no one dares to miss it if it’s not life or death and they just scream the lyrics to each other until someone (Asahi) picks a softer/slower song to which the team will start down a nostalgic path for the night until Tanaka puts on Not Today the song they played before every game bc they were the underdogs the flightless crows that finally caught wind and soared through the sky.

Anyways BTS Haikyuu brain rot bc Not Today Came on and my three brain cells rubbed together just right.

[rodent-king-buunii]

My fruit snack taste like pizza

[cubbyhole-for-flea-bee]

Macaque spent the whole season Big-Damn-Hero-ing and was NOT happy about it xD

[tenmillionpoundsofsludge]

The brotherhood of steel respecting pronouns was not on my fallout bingo card

[dramatic-dolphin]

"europeans are soooo much more enlightened and anti-racist than americans" haha sooo true, quick question, how do you feel about romani people?

‼️THIS POST IS ABOUT ANTI-ROMANI SENTIMENT. DO NOT DERAIL. ‼️

[sincerelystesichorus]

i have spent so long trying to place who astarion reminds me of

his dry little sarcastic bits gets me every time and like it's automatically funny but it felt so familiar...

this bastard.

and some more similar comparisons i think

thank you for coming to my ted talk

[sukunasteeth]

Sukuna has never said no to you.

It didn’t matter what the request was, simple or complicated, easy to fix or a days-long job, Sukuna was always at your side, completing the task as fast as he needed to to keep you satisfied. He would love to deny it, you’re sure, but evidence proves time and time again that he puts your needs and wants at the top of his priority list. 

And you were curious how far you could go with it.

The two of you are sitting in your underwear at the breakfast nook, warming yourselves in the bay window while the morning sun starts on the leftover night time chill. It wasn't quite time for breakfast, still too early for the both of you. In the meantime, you sip on your morning brews, preserving the comfortable silence. Sukuna is flipping through the day's newspaper, his eyes are groggy with sleep and he hasn't said more than a handful of words to you yet. He wasn't a morning person.

You were starting to change that.

"Kuna," You call to him, nudging him with your foot from your corner of the window bench.

"Hmm?" He doesn't look up from the paper, but his hand reaches down and grabs your foot, pulling it into his lap. His thumbs start to subconsciously knead at your muscles.

"I want these." You hold up your phone, which you had previously been scrolling through in an attempt to find something ridiculous for this exact moment. You were sure you had found it, something even Sukuna would find unnecessary. 

And yet, he merely glances at your screen, takes in the sight for all of two seconds, and then returns his attention to whatever news article he was in the middle of.

"My wallet's on the counter." He clears the sleep from his throat not sparing a second look. 

You blink at him in surprise.

"D-Did you even see what it is?" You flip your phone around to make sure you were displaying the correct thing. 

Sukuna is frowning before he looks up again, curious at your persistence. He gently cups your hand, bringing it only a minuscule amount closer to examine your screen a second time. 

You were on one of the most luxurious brand’s websites, showing him an incredibly regular pair of panties, no straps, no details, all black- with one of the most outrageous price tags you had ever seen for something so ordinary. 

Sukuna cocks a brow at you over your phone, "Can't imagine you need more panties when you're constantly stealing my boxers. But whatever, hand it over. I know my card number-"

"Kuna," You interrupt him with a surprised laugh, holding fast to your phone when he tries to pluck it out of your hands, "they're a thousand dollars."

He glances back, his eyes focusing lower on the screen where you know the price tag to be. The newspaper in his hands drops down, momentarily forgotten by what he sees. For a moment, you think you've found his limit.

"Wait, are those red one's assless?" He points just below the price, where the recommended products are depicted. "Get those too."

You drop the phone down so that he meets your eyes, which are wide with shock.

Sukuna always took care of you. Always insisted on being the provider of any single thing that you may need; a warm meal, a soft bed, anything your eyes twinkled at that was available for purchase- even if you would never think of buying or owning it. Granted, you never wanted much in terms of material possessions, so you didn't realize the true extent of Sukuna's leniency until now.

It was slightly intimidating, and part of it felt wrong. Sukuna had money, plenty of it, but that didn’t mean he should feel the need to spend copious amounts of it on you just because you could ask him to. He was giving you too much power, it felt like.

You huff through your nose, frowning at him, which only has him tilting his head further to the side in question.

You ignore it, setting your phone onto the window seat and crawling your way closer to him, until you can gather up his face in your hands and lock his gaze into yours.

He glares at you past smushed cheeks, but doesn't make a move to break free of your hold, humoring you. "The hell are you doing-"

"You know you don't always have to say yes to me?"

Now that has him taken aback. His mouth automatically opens for a witty response, but your question seems to have effectively taken the words from his mouth. You can see the cogs in his head turning, and what you wouldn't give to peer inside his mind and hear his thoughts.

It takes him a moment, but eventually that familiar confident smile stretches across his sleepy face. His hands seem to instinctively slide their way up your bare legs until his fingers grip your hip bones, pressing into you. 

He hums, "When have you ever said no to me?"

You scoff, ready to give him a prime example, but end up coming up short. The two of you loved to tease each other with disobedience, but in the end you were eager to give Sukuna anything his heart desired. You loved to please him, it was one of your favorite things to do, in fact.

"You never ask anything ridiculous of me." You remind him, smiling as one of his warm hands slides back down your waist and dips into the pair of his boxers you were sporting that day. 

"You know what's ridiculous?” His voice wraps around your throat, and suddenly has you swallowing past the delicious grip. You're folding into him before you even realize it, at the mercy of his calloused hands. "The implication that I wouldn't do just about anything for you."

You can't help but sigh hopelessly, although it comes out as a desperate noise that pleads him for more. You really were all his, just like he loved to tell you.

"Now hand me your phone." It's a whisper, coaxing you. "I wanna see you in red."

You can’t say no. 

At least it was mutual.

[shesnake]

this was in response to a now deleted tweet by an adult about disney channel "falling off" and I think about it all the time when people my age complain about teen media

[wolfsbanewho]

just saw a commercial implying kraft mac and cheese cures depression

[dreamchasernina]

Netflix, I don’t know how to tell you this but a woman doesn’t have to be self taught to be a strong female character. It’s ok to let her know her limitation and ask for help. It’s ok to let her get angry, it’s ok to let her be jealous, it’s ok to let your female character have flaws and WORK on them. Your female character doesn’t have to become a master on her own to be memorable, it just makes her accomplishment feel unearned.

[sunlitsoil]

there is always tomorrow