#Fletching Table

[daily-mc-block]

Fletching Table

[cherishedverses]

Cubfan fletching table cult slash jay

[letthe-skyfall]

There's a new snapshot. Hooray.

We got redstone changes, baby aquatic mobs and different size salmon.

This is evidently exiting. But if Mojang can decide to update minecarts, which arguably were fine as is, (I do agree they're better now though) why can't they do something about this:

Sky's Great Fletching Table Rant

Stupid Table: A Comprehensive History of The Stupid Table

Seriously. This block has been in the game since 1.14. 1.14 was released in 2019. That was five years ago.

Also said in 2019:

Just remember. This was five years ago. We have been waiting five years just for a table to get some actual functionality. Yes, now is technically sometime after 1.14, but it has been long overdue.

On the Minecraft official wiki, it is listed in the 'Interactable' category.

All of these have some sort of UI or have some way the player can interact with them, like you can eat cake, place liquids in a cauldron, use a conduit to breathe, or put items in pots.

This implies that there is meant to be a function for the fletching table. So where is it?

Actual Uses

There is only one actual use for the fletching table, and that's as a villager workstation.

If we look at the list of villager workstations, all the others can be interacted with the player in one way or another.

So apart from placing and breaking, why can't the fletching table have a use too? It could help balance out the variety of items we could access, instead of just being practically a decoration block. Fletchers are one of the less popular villager variants as well.

Possible uses

There are actually many possibilities for what a fletching table could be used for. It actually has a lot of potential.

Like firework rockets, arrows could be modified in the fletching table to have different distances they could fly. In real life, there are multiple kinds of arrows, and not all of them fly the same length, and wind charges show that there doesn't really have to be a limit on how projectiles could fly. A good way for making the long flying arrows less op could be to make it so that the longer the flight duration, the less power it does.

Potion effect arrows. This could make potion arrows easier to obtain, you could make one in a fletching table with an arrow and a respective potion. It could also provide a way to remove potion effects you don't want from arrows. There could be a way to add multiple effects to an arrow, but as a debuff, make the length of the effects shorter.

Conclusion

The fletching table has potential. If Mojang didn't forget about it, it could be a block people want. So, we probably won't get a fletching table update in a while. But it would be cool if we did.

[galladegamer]

I believe the fletching table was added in...1.14? and 5 updates later it still doesn't have a use. so PLEASE Mojang give the fletching table a use

[tibbycaps]

hes so mad he tore a 2x4 in half with his bare hands after writing this I bet

[regularconvexheadcanons]

What have I found

I just searched for Cub and this happened-

1: why is Cub watching me from the search bar

2: why is Scar the picture for Cub on the Hermitcraft Wiki? (I mean I can suggest a lot of Convex-related reasons but still)

3: what is that skin from the Reddit post? (Art from DearExam88 on r/Hermitcraft) I did not expect that.

[bunnymedley]

i saw several armadillos in the badlands and i wanna brush them for scutes but to make a brush i need a feather and i dont wanna hurt any chickens if i can avoid it so im swimming around looking for a shipwreck with a feather inside

[limelocked]

cub...

[thecrowquet]

So, just to recap:

Cub wants the fletching table to be updated.

Scar wants coloured lights.

Etho wants controllable NPCs.

And Cleo wants meat.

[tango-but-everywhere]

what species are they? i stacked them sorry

from scar’s twitter

[ID: a minecraft screenshot from hermitcraft 10, taken in the mail room. a collection of hermits are stacked on the shelf, all in swim mode. from lowest to highest it’s mumbo, tango and iskall, impulse and scar. mumbo is wearing a sims plumbob (likely from mission possible), elytra, and diamond armour, and wielding a pickaxe; tango is in full diamond minus elytra and holding a fletching table; iskall is only wearing diamond pants and boots but there is something bright green on his back, and he’s holding a firework; scar’s in his poe poe skin and only wearing diamond boots and elytra, and impulse is mostly hidden behind tango but he’s in his full cyberpunk getup. end ID]

[cluemily]

Me waiting for Cub to play the potato April Fools MC update just so he can see the Fletching Table having a GUI now dksgh

[the-dixon-effect]

Just a Girl

requested by: @dixonsgirl93 which you can find here -> masterlist

A/N: thank you so much for the request my love!! i love this concept so much that it had me up at 4am writing it after recovering from a long-haul flight, so so sorry that this took so long for a little drabble xx

It was too tempting.

Not after years of stumbling around in dirty rags and a single pair of worn combat boots. Not after fighting for your life every single day, were you going to pass this up. Today, you were safe. And right in front of you, in this completely empty mall, were a pair of pristine black stilettos.

You held one in each hand as you admired them, a treasure of a world lost in time. You felt like a different person just clutching them.

"Hey, Maggie!" you are unable to control the wide smile cast across your lips. "Look what I found!" the girl glanced in your direction from the entrance of the store, scoffing at your excitement.

"Whatcha gonna do with those?" she asked, chuckling, as she jogged up to the display table coated in a thick layer of dust.

"I don't know. Walk around. Dance. Put 'em on a table and forbid anyone from touching them," you said quietly, smiling as you palmed at the crisp black leather. "They could be a symbol. Y'know, Lord of the Flies style," you joked, meeting the farmgirl's eyes. Strangely enough, the ghost of a boutique was relatively empty apart from these shoes, a few scraps of useless clothes scattered around and many plastic hangers adorning the white-tiled floor.

"Alright, fine. But ya' have to bring that little black dress back, too," she teased, in that familiar Southern drawl. Pointing to a rack of clothes on the other side of the store, you spotted a lone black dress threatening to fall off the flimsy hanger. It was no surprise that when the remaining survivors came through these parts, rummaging through stores and kitchens and bunkers, a pair of high heels and a mini dress didn't make the cut for the survivalist supply list. It had been a couple years by now, and indeed no one back at the prison would care if you indulged in a bit of fun. Besides, you're just a girl. And a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to get by.

~

Most evenings were spent in the foyer swapping stories and enjoying the ever-expanding group's company, now that everyone was feeling more comfortable in the prison. Daryl was perched on the second step of the cool, steel staircase fletching some bolts for his crossbow, after the fairly uneventful run earlier. One thought did linger in his mind, however - as he tuned out to the rest of the conversations engaging in his midst. You had briefly shown him what you managed to pick up back at the abandoned mall, some scraps of food, some comics for Carl, and... what could only be described as an image from one of his wildest dreams. Or worst nightmares. What the hell would he do with himself if you suddenly appeared in that dress? And those heels? Probably run, and hide someplace where nobody would notice his reaction. And just when he was imagining what you would look like in that outfit from earlier, he heard a voice call out from upstairs.

"Hershel! You better believe these things are harder to walk in than a peg leg!"

The foyer erupted in chuckles as conversations ceased while everybody looked up at you on the balcony, held up firmly by Maggie who couldn't control her laughter either.

"Come on down, Y/N. Betcha can't do it!" the grey-haired man exclaimed as the rest of the group watched you stumble to the top of the staircase.

Oh God. She's so popular. And beautiful - were the thoughts swirling around in Daryl's head as he turned a swift 180 and looked up at your perfect figure. You looked so pretty when you laughed like that; a face that lit up the room - lit up this rotten world - when the sweet sound that even a siren couldn't mimic echoed over the walls of the dismal building. And that outfit; the smooth black dress that clung to your thighs so perfectly with a neckline that revealed just enough to make him go insane. Those heels. Daryl always had a thing for girls with nice legs, but he was always too embarrassed to mention it. It may have slipped out in front of his older brother once upon a time, and for the years to come he never shut up about it. Humiliating Daryl whenever a gorgeous girl like you walked past. Daryl never denied it, though, that you and that perfect body of yours were gonna be the death of him someday. And that felt like right now.

"Maggie, don't you dare let that girl fall!" Michonne shouted, laughing as she kicked her feet up on the cafeteria table and leaned back.

"Daryl, I swear to God, if you don't catch me I'll kill you," you began, addressing the archer that was gawking up at you, the one slightly obstructing your wobbly path down the staircase. Everybody in that cell block watched the poor man snap out of his daydreams as he shot up and grabbed your hand as your knees threatened to buckle beneath you. Maggie let go of her tight grip on your shoulders and erupted into giggles, as though she were playing Cupid.

"Thank you, Daryl," you said sweetly, not realising that Daryl is physically suffocating as you clutched Daryl's calloused palm. You took the opportunity to steady yourself on both feet and do a little twirl, lifting Daryl's arm up over your head as you spun around as gracefully as you could manage. A couple of cheers escaped from your audience, making you smile deeply. You hadn't felt this pretty in a long time.

"Whatcha doin' playin' dress-up anyway?" Daryl drawled, quietly.

"Well, I'm just a girl."

taglist: @alldevilsarehere90 @poisonmenegan @radcollectivesoul @emilykolchivans @pinchoftheoutsiders guys the taglist is looking a little lonely!!

[coralseacourt]

🧡Broken Love🩵 🐚@coralseacourt🐚

✨Summery:✨ The youngest Acheron Sister gets rejected for Elain.

Love is sweet but revenge is sweeter. After a broken heart comes a broken court part three of broken love.

✨Warnings:✨ naughty scene

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,

Part 3:

I m a traitor.

A liar.

The evil Personified.

At least that’s what they want to believe.

That the innocent girl I was, had turned on them without good reason.

They would never understand that revenge led me.

Revenge for all those hours I had spent alone locked up in their prison tower.

It had been a golden cage.

A prison I would never return to again.

🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸

The doors opened and a cruel smile played around my lips.

With Eris right by my side I entered the High lords meeting Room.

Every pair of eyes found us in an instance.

Gasps and shocked faces all around us.

One Face particularly shocked. Azriel.

Just for a second my eyes swiped over his beautiful but furious face.

The newly crowned High Lord next to me chuckled and laid his hand on my bare back.

The game was on. And I was ready to play.

“Violet?” Of course feyre was the first to speak.

But I didn’t gave her any indication that I had heard her.

The growling from the other night court members was harder to ignore.

“ Tztz would you please not growl at my pet. She has claws and I rather don’t want her to use them.” I smiled dangerously at Eris.

“ I thought you promised me that I could play.” I said with a sensual tone. “I haven’t played in so long.” I glanced at Rhysand who looked like he could throw up at any given moment . My eyebrow raised I walked closer to the table where everyone sat.

My mental walls pulled up and tightened.

“Soon my sweetness. Nightmares are not made overnight.”

Eris strolled to the only free chair left and sat down like a king ready to conquer.

I narrowed my eyes and let my fingers drive over the top of the marble table.

Long fingernails clacking on the cold stone.

“I like to play. Don’t you High Lord of the Night?” I smiled cruelly at him.

His mask slipping away for just a second.

But I saw. I saw straight through him.

Then the moment was over, he straightened up and narrowed his eyes.

Ah there he is.

Rhysand.

The most powerful High lord of prythian.

“Violet. I see you.” He paused for a second pulling invisible dust from his jacket.

His pause seemed intentional and I had to think back to the words that had started it all.

Do you want to be seen?

“are in great company. And I thought you finally had the guts to go and be on your own. Seems you only changed sides.”

His face changing to a cruel mask of authority.

I tilted my head to the side looking at him like a predator analyzing its prey.

“I like being in his company and being his pet. It gives me satisfaction to know he can do whatever he wants with me.”

I smiled devilish and let one of my hands glide up my throat over my chin.

Playing with my lips and licking one of my fingers.

The growl that came from behind Rhys let me look up.

Azriel. His hand on his knife, teeth fletched and his black eyes staring me down.

”What has become of you? Look at you being the whore of autumn scum.”

I laughed out loud not bothered by his hateful words.

I put a innocent face up before saying.

“Oh but Azriel. I have only become what you have made me.” All night court eyes turned to the Shadowsinger surprised.

“Az? What does she mean with that?” Feyre, her eyes had teared up and my face softened for just a second before putting my mask back on.

“I don’t know what she is talking about.”

I giggled.

“Of course you don’t honey. But it doesn’t matter either way.”

I turned around and walked to the waiting hand of the only man that knew the rules of our new game.

“Now that we have this issue cleared, I want to announce our marriage.” The Autumn High Lord took my hand and kissed it gently.

Feyre gasped.

“No, you can’t do this. Rhys do something.”

But the Lord of Night only stared.

“Rhys, please she is my sister. He can’t marry her. What about Azriel’s Connection .” “Feyre stop talking.”

I stiffened.

First because of the mention of any kind of connection with the Shadowsinger.

But then because this asshole had dared to quiet my sister down.

Now I was angry.

And angry me did not hold back anymore.

With only a wink of my power, that no one had ever known about I called my shadows and let them rise behind me like a black wall that would withstand anything and anyone.

Eris was chuckling next to me while I stared at the shocked faces of all high lords and their companions.

My teeth fletched and my eyes glowing green with power.

“ If you ever dare to talk to my sister like that again you will regret it.” Everyone tensed at the words of my threat only Eris stayed calm.

“Wonderful now you angered my little nightmare. “

He pulled me into his lap and put a hand on my neck squeezing it softly before pulling my hair to the side to kiss my throat. Calming me down I realized.

My shadows disappeared in an instance.

“She is a Shadowsinger.” Helion leaned back in his chair, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“I m right here you don’t need to talk over my head I can and will talk for myself.” He only raised his eyebrows in response.

“You haven’t been like this before, what changed? Please tell me violet. We can fix this. I know we can. “

Feyre was now pleading with me and deep inside my heart broke but I had to do my part, had to play this character.

“There is nothing to be fixed. I m exactly who I want to be.” Was all I said and the attention finally was turned to the official meeting points.

But I could feel his eyes on me, could feel something else too. I scrunched my forehead in confusion.

Why could I feel jealousy.

Hot headed blatantly obvious jealousy.

The problem was that it wasn’t my feelings.

I looked up Azriel’s eyes gleaming at me.

And that’s when I could see what I clearly felt. Jealousy.

🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸

It had been hours for the high lords to finish. We were the first to leave for the room we would spend the night in to continue the meeting on the next day.

A fire was burning when we entered. Cozy.

“Violet come here. “ I turned around to look at the male with the softest red hair.

I walked slowly towards him until we almost touched. His hands cupping my cheeks.

“Are you alright?” I blinked a couple times before catching myself.

Eris was a great High Lord but concern was not his strength.

So, for him to try to be gentle was new.

I pulled away.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I? This is what we’ve been working towards. Remember?”

He straightened up and back was my sensual Companion.

“I have to say , i was surprised how good you handled yourself.”

I only raised my eyebrow before strolling back towards him letting my hands slide softly down his chest pulling his dressshirt up to have better access to him.

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back.

A moan escaping his full lips while I was letting my fingers glide over his hot skin, down to his leather belt wich I opened with swift fingers.

“You are a naughty little vixen.”

“I know, but would you want me any other way?”

He chuckled before laying his hands on my shoulders and slowly pulling my dress down making it pool around my legs.

I was now completely bared in front of him.

“You really are as beautiful and cruel like one of my darkest nightmares.”

With strong arms he suddenly lifted me up and pressed me against the wall. My head falling back while his tongue circled around my peaked nipple.

Nipping, biting, licking.

“I need to be inside of you like you are inside of me every second, every moment of the day.”

And with that he pulled his pants down and started to slip into me first slowly until he was completely hidden inside of me, then hard and fast until the world erupted around us.

Stars filling my vision and moans leaving my lips.

And while i experienced complete Bliss the Shadowsinger next door was drowned in darkness having to listen to us.

✨Taglist✨

🪸@impossibelle

🪸@going-through-shit

🪸@marvelouslovely-barnes

🪸@mis-lil-red

🪸@isa1b2h3

🪸@darling006

🪸@the-sweet-psycho

🪸@chessebookgirl

[theminecraftbee]

I am so with you about Hbomb becoming a hermit because he fits the vibes so well. I genuinely think he'd have a lot of fun on the server and he has so much obscure minecraft mechanic knowledge that I think he would enable some fun shenanigans by passing that onto others. He's been collecting the hermits for years in MCC, let them collect him too! Make the H in Hbomb stand for Hermit!

YEAH do you understand what I’m saying when I say he’d be in like, a joe/cub/zed niche. I was watching him complain about how dumb the daylight sensor recipe is the other day as he started doing decked out vod review and went. he and cub should talk about the fletching table. he should be able to do a whole bit with ALL the hermits about dumb crafting recipes. it would be such good enrichment. please,

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 11

Ooooof. Sorry for this. But I'm also double sorry for what comes after :)

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Angst, HYDRA experiments, blood, wounds, disturbing visions, mentions of death.

Word Count: 1,085

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

[Prologue][Part 1][Part 2][Part 3][Part 4][Part 5][Part 6][Part 7][Part 8][Part 9][Part 10]

You stumble inside, gasping for breath.

The wound on your side needs immediate attention but you scramble around the abandoned home instead, blood and gunk oozing down and drip, drip, dripping onto the rotten wooden floors. You riffle through the drawers in the wobbly oak desk and come away with a blunt pencil before moving on to the bookshelves along the walls, dust covering the dry, cracked spines of the novels. You love books so much that you hate to even dog-ear your copies, but you proceed to rip out a few title pages and epigraphs, needing clean space to write.

You know there’s not enough time to both patch yourself up and write down your final words, so you can only hope that you’ll be cognizant enough to get down what you need to.

You clutch the papers and pencil in one hand and begin making your way to the small table and chair set off to the side of the kitchen. Pausing at the entryway, you use the other hand to apply pressure around the arrow jutting from just under your ribcage. 

You hiss at the pain, looking down at your blood-covered fingers and noticing rivulets of bright blue that had been hidden within the hollow shaft of the arrow. You had noticed a hollow pop when you snapped the fletching off back in the woods. You were still clear-headed enough at the time to realize that the inside had a coating of blue liquid. There wasn’t enough of it on the ground to fill the shaft, so the rest of it must have already been injected into your body – the arrow must have been triggered to inoculate upon penetration. 

You only had a limited amount of time to figure out what was going to happen to you, but knowing how HYDRA operates, you’ve decided to err on the side of caution and assume that death is imminent. Despite working at the facility for the past couple of months, you can’t determine what the blue liquid is. It could be any number of hallucinogens, anticoagulants, euthenasia agents, or something you hadn’t encountered yet.

You had run until you found this house, a good twenty miles from the facility and even further from your pre-determined evac point with Bucky in case shit hit the fan. Your pounding heart had only exacerbated your problems, increasing your blood loss and quickening the circulation of the substance through your bloodstream. You’d grown paranoid on your journey here, flinching at every sound and jumping at figures that seemed to leap at you from behind the trees. Darkness descended upon the forest and the shadows grew spindly fingers that seemed to snatch at your ankles. 

You come back to yourself, standing under the archway only a few feet from your destination. You shake your head, clearing away the spiders that had started to spin webs between your eyelashes. Without them in the way, the shadows only grew bolder – whipping out and slashing you to ribbons. The sleeves that had been protecting your arms are torn to shreds, small welts and bloody cuts evident through the holes.

Focusing back on the task at hand, you finish hobbling over to the rusty metal table. You slam the writing materials on the bumpy surface, bending over to pick up the fallen chair. You settle yourself onto the moth-eaten cushion, the wooden posts against your back creaking in protest. 

The shadows crawl over your shoulders and perch there, staring down at your hand as you try to write. The paper rotates under the pencil, turning your letters unintelligible. You hadn’t wanted to mar the letter with your blood, but you reluctantly pull the hand staunching the flow of warmth from your side and press it delicately to the top of the page, holding it in place.

As you write, tears pool along your lower lashes. The spiders titter happily, poking at the salty water and causing it to spill over onto your cheeks. The little creatures don’t appear interested in mopping up the liquid on your face with their little hairy bodies, because you see tear stains appear on the paper underneath you as the droplets collect on your chin and rain down.

You need to get this all out before you lose the one train of thought that still remains unscathed. The one topic inside your head that still makes sense, that you can still understand. 

Well, one that you used to understand. Bucky had been the one constant in your life until he wasn’t. Until you ruined it. Your conversation that was supposed to fix everything today never happened. So everything left unsaid between you and Bucky will remain that way, unless you get these words down. 

You’ll never know what Bucky was going to say, but at least he’ll be able to hear your side.

You can’t help but watch, fascinated, as lights begin to dance over your hand and the letter. Looking up, you can see that the entire table and wall opposite the window next to you also flicker brightly. The shapes dazzle your eyes, reflecting off the tears still gathering, and blind you intermittently as they bounce around.

You close your eyes against the lights wreaking havoc on your pupils, but the images that flash behind your eyelids are even more torturous. 

It’s your life before Great Fuck-Up. 

Bucky’s smiling face as he laughs at one of your sarcastic comments, his intent eyes and cocky smirk when he knew you were thinking about him, all the silly little moments you spent together that meant so much to you.

But then the images switch and you recognize immediately that you’re now in The After: the cold blue eyes, grimacing mouth, and the loneliness that came along with your confession. The anger and pain in Bucky’s voice when he turned you down, when he said he regretted the time spent with you. 

You inhale shakily as a sob tries to make its way up your throat and past your molten lips. Your hands tremble uncontrollably and the pencil slips through your fingers and rolls, rolls, rolls across the neverending table until it disappears over the edge that hadn’t been there seconds ago. There’s nothing to do except look back down at the page.

There’s only a few lines written, but if this is all you can manage then it will just have to be good enough. Knowing that these are your last moments, you’re glad that you could at least get these words off your chest. You hope that these last few words will be a consolation. To Bucky, to Nat, and Steve, and Sam, and Wanda, and, and, and a million other people that you’re going to miss – that will miss you.

Thinking of all the people you’re leaving behind brings into sharp relief just how lonely you are. You’re stuck in a long abandoned home, freezing, bleeding out, and unable to call for help. Even during your time away, you’d never felt this agonizing loneliness. This pain that manifests as a hollow feeling that echoes in your abdomen, as invisible hands grabbing and twisting at your heart. 

God. What is Bucky going to do now that you’re not going to be able to complete the mission? You did all you could, downloaded and scrubbed all the data before setting the self-destruct sequence into motion, but was it enough? You don’t remember a big fireball in the sky and quaking earth under your feet as you ran away, but maybe you were just too out of it to notice. 

You can’t help but feel guilty that Petre and his family got wrapped up in the situation, that their only way to move forward and help Sasha was to join that horrible, awful institution. But honestly, death is probably the best outcome for Sasha after everything HYDRA has done to her, whatever they’ve made her body dependent on.

Sharp pain flares from your chest and ricochets behind your ribs, forcing a cry from your lips. The pain continues to grow and spread, encroaching on your organs and traveling through your limbs - but all the sudden it’s gone and a crawling, slithering, pulsing numbness takes its place. Your bones and muscles and ligaments turn to jelly and you slide sideways out of the chair, landing hard on the rotten floor but not feeling it.

The pain is gone, but your emotions remain. You can’t help but remember all the time you spent training, spent getting to know the team, spent making life-long friendships. You just didn’t realize that life-long would be so short.

The lights on the wall grow more intense, more numerous, and you can hear howling, baying, snarling monsters sprinting to your final resting place. You can only hope that you’ll be gone by the time they sink their vicious fangs and terrible claws into your soft and squishy flesh. 

You thought that you would take any company over the aching loneliness you feel, but you realize that maybe being alone isn’t the worst thing in the end. At least no one has to see you cry, and shiver, and shake, and watch as your chest refuses to rise and your heart refuses to pump and the light leaves your eyes.

Yeah, no one should see that. You want them to remember you how you were: happy sometimes, a pain in the ass a lot of times, and – hopefully – as a good friend, a good teammate, a good person. You know there’s so many things you could have done differently, but does it even matter now? 

You can see the clothes piled on your floor back in New York, the cereal bowl left on your nightstand from a midnight snack, all the makeup scattered across your counter from girls’ night out. The pillow slumped against the door and tear stains soaking your bed sheets at the house you share with Bucky only a handful of miles away.

You see the half-finished books on your shelf, the unsung songs on your playlists, the stories you never told and never heard, and the conversations left unfinished, the words left unsaid. 

You wish that your last thoughts before you die were happy, that you could watch your life back over and not regret so much, that you could see your family and friends and Bucky one last time.

But that isn’t in the cards for you. The monsters from outside have finally reached the house, slamming open the door and shattering what’s left of the windows. Shadows converge on you from every angle, crowding your eyes and compressing your lungs more and more and more until there’s no room left to expand. Until you can’t take in any air. Gasping, gasping, gasping. Until the room fades out and so does your heartbeat.

Part 12

Tag list: @jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283 @terry2227

[elisysd]

14. Now I don't wanna close my eyes, see everythin' I ever done

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Close My Eyes - Luke Hemmings

It took a lot of convincing from Charles to manage to make you come to Monaco for the summer break. You had agreed on a week and it was enough for him to come up with a plan. He had rented a house in Sicily, lost in the middle of nowhere, where he knew no one would come bothering you. It was a small cottage, big enough for the two of you. There was even a pool and a small jacuzzi. It was a few kilometers from the sea and you both already had planned a trip on a boat. Despite your fears and doubts, you were excited and happy to spend some quality time with your boyfriend, away from the hustle bustle of the paddock. For once, you wouldn’t hide or wouldn’t need to pretend feelings were not there.

You had arrived in Monaco late at night and after a night not so relaxing, you had headed to the Italian island as soon as the sun had risen and arrived in the late hours of the afternoon. You gasped when you saw the little house, soaked with an old charm. The pathway was filled with flowers from different colors and scents and you could see the huge conservatory made of glass at the back of the house. It felt like home. 

“You like it?” Charles whispered in your ear, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you against his chest.

“I love it. It’s everything I imagined it would be.”

He kissed the back of your head and laced his fingers to your before pulling you towards the house. The inside was more modern than the outside, with an open kitchen in granite and a huge table made of glass. The wooden floor was giving a warm atmosphere to the house and you instantly knew you would have a nice time.

The first two days were spent mostly in the pool and on the lounge chair, you were still a little scared to venture into town, in case someone would notice you. But the few trips Charles had done where nobody stopped him to ask for pictures, finally convinced you to join him. The third day, you had finally discovered the town and ate in a nice restaurant and no one seemed to care. You got bolder and bolder, caring less and less about your surroundings, allowing Charles to walk his hand in yours, making you twirl in a crowd while listening to a street musician, and kissing whenever you felt like it.

The last day before you had to leave the little bubble of peace you had created, was spent, in the middle of the sea, on a boat. The day felt nice, spent between cuddles and kissed and playful games on the boat and in the sea. 

“It’s not funny!” you half screamed, half laugh as Charles had managed to throw you in the sea while you weren’t looking.

“You should have seen your face, I find it extremely funny, my love.” he laughed, joining you and catching you.

“You’re an idiot.” you rolled your eyes as you threw your arms around his neck, your forehead against his. 

“Your idiot.”

“My idiot, that’s true.” you smiled.

He kissed you, playing with the straps of your top.

“Don’t you dare.” 

“Why? There is no one in sight.” he replied, his hand moving to your ass, giving it a squeeze and making you moan in the process. It was enough for him to lean for a kiss and slip his tongue between your parted lips and begin a fiery dance fighting for dominance. As you were holding on for dear life, you couldn’t miss how a certain part of him seemed to appreciate the situation.

“Charles…” you sighed as one of his hands slipped beneath your top to play with your hardened nipple.

“Tell me to stop.” he grunted, his lips moving to your neck, the light stubble on his face slightly scratching your fletch.

“I don’t want you to stop, but maybe not in the sea.”

He didn’t need you to say more. He threw your legs around his waist, making your core come straight into contact with his dick and making you throw your head backwards while a sweet sound escaped your lips. 

“Keep those lips sealed for a few more seconds baby and then, I promise you, you won't be able to keep your mouth shut.”

As he was about to climb on the boat when he felt you tensing.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“My top… it’s coming off….” you bit your lips, cheeks red from anticipation and embarrassment.

“It’s fine. You won’t need it anymore soon.”

It was finally time for you to go your separate ways. You were expected back in Paris for work and to prepare the next part of the season while working on the Alpine documentary for which you needed to record a voice over. As for Charles, he would join his friends and then his family for the remainder of the summer break. Going back to your office felt weird and unnatural, especially since rain had decided to join you on your first day back to the office. You didn’t notice at first the weird looks from your colleagues and how they didn’t dare to look you in the eyes. It only hit you when you went for the coffee machine and heard two women whispering your name before jumping as you came closer to them. You didn’t know what was wrong with them, but you didn’t want to have to care.

On your way back to the desk, you saw Marion, phone glued to her ear shooting an apologetic smile. That’s when you started to understand that something weird at best and bad at worst was happening. Your fears were confirmed as soon as you opened your emails to find an urgent note from your boss asking to meet him as soon as she would be back. And when you made your way there and the first thing you saw, after he invited you to come in, was the front page of a tabloid in his hand. A picture of you taken with Charles, that day in the sea. The picture was explicit enough to not give any doubts on the nature of your relationship. 

“Michael, I can explain…” you stuttered, feeling sick in your stomach.

“How long?” he simply asked, a disappointed look on his face. It hurt you more than him being angry. Handling anger was easy, but disappointment was the worst. Because you felt like you had betrayed him when he was the one willing to take a chance on you.

“A… A while. I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you… I was about to tell you, I swear.”

“It’s an uncomfortable position for me too… You are one of our best journalists here but, given the circumstances  I can't keep you around. Until further notice I have to ask you to take a step back. No more Grand Prix, no more covering motorsport news. I need to investigate if your relationship made you miss your job duties. Meanwhile, maybe you can be relocated to other sports.”

“Michael, I know I screwed up big time, but I assure you, never have I ever let my private life cross with my professional one.”

“Y/N, my decision is made. For now, and if you don’t want to work elsewhere, I need you to hand me your badge and your laptop. You need to leave now. I’m sorry it has come to this.”

fighting against your tears, you handed him your badge before coming back to your desk where you packed your stuff quickly. When you turned around, Marion and Jean were there, sympathy written all over their faces.

“We tried to tell Michael that you always did the best job possible out there no matter what. We tried our best to persuade him to let you stay…” Marion told you, sadness in her eyes.

“And I thank you for that. But I should have told him sooner. I’m to blame there.”

“We are sorry. If we can do anything for you…” Jean apologized, taking you in his arms before letting you go to take your bag.

“It’s like this..”

You tried your best to not fall apart in the subway but when you finally arrived at your apartment you couldn’t hold back anymore. You let yourself slide against the door, your bag pulled against your chest as you let tears streaming down on your face. Without a job anymore, you couldn't afford to stay in Paris and that thought only made your anxiety rise through the roof. You allowed yourself to be a mess for a few minutes before taking a deep breath, you couldn’t stay like this, it wasn’t leading anywhere. Checking your phone you could see hundreds of notifications, mostly on your social media, but the only name you saw was Charles’ and a simple ‘call me’. You didn’t think twice about it, you needed him. He picked up quickly and you could hear the panic in his voice.

“Y/N, thank God, I was so worried. I saw the pictures, I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t know paparazzi were there. I’m on their ass, I promise they are going to pay.”

“I’ve been fired, Charles.” you announced in a calm voice that you barely recognised. He went silent. “I mean, not totally fired yet, just under investigation but I can’t set a toe at the office anymore. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“I… I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to hear it but… Now that the cat is out of the bag, maybe it is for the best?”

“How can it be for the best?” you gulped, a tear falling on your cheek. “I’m jobless, without a lot of savings and a student loan I have still yet to pay. I can’t go back to my parents, I can eventually crash on my best friend’s couch but…”

“Or maybe you can come to my place. You will be able to rest, you won’t be alone, you can take your time figuring out your next step while not worrying about your finances.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Move your ass to Monaco or I swear I’m coming all the way to Paris to drag you down in the south with me.”

You arrived the next day, your suitcase and most prized possessions under your arms at the train station.Out, you were stunned to see a crowd of young adults happily chatting and taking pictures. You squinted, trying to see what the attraction was and noticed an awfully familiar black car and the silhouette of your boyfriend, waiting in front of it. When he finally saw you, his eyes lit up and he excused himself to join you and took your bags.

“Out with your admirers today?”

“I thought that since we were busted, it was pointless to keep hiding. I should have asked if you were fine with that, sorry.”

People let you pass as you sat in the Ferrari while Charles kept signing autographs for a minute before joining you and driving to Monaco. There, you could see how people were taking pictures of the car and filming it and you instantly knew you were about to make it to the gossip pages, if it wasn’t the case already. You leaned into the backseat of the car, trying to make yourself invisible even if you were aware it was pointless.

“I’m sorry about that…” Charles said, feeling remorseful and putting a hand on your knee, giving it a squeeze. “I’m right there, we will find a way.”

Arriving in his place, you were awfully silent and lost in thoughts. Charles knew why, he didn’t need to ask for explanations, he knew exactly what was going on in your mind.

“Luc is proud of you no matter what. Don’t feel guilty, please.”

You finally turned to him, head hanging low and he felt his heart breaking in pieces.

“I know what you are thinking about but please, don’t beat yourself up, it leads nowhere.” he said, taking you in his arms, your head resting on his chest.

“I feel lost and confused, like nothing is making sense anymore. I don’t know what I'm supposed to do now. This dream was the only thing sure in my life, the one thing I built my life around and now that it is not there anymore? I don’t know… I’m not even sure to know who I am without that.”

“We will figure it out. Together. I’m going to spend a few days with my mom and my brothers, maybe discovering yourself and what you like can start with you tagging along?”

Author's note: The secret had to come to light at some point... I'm so sorry for the lack of consistency lately, the past few weeks have been hectic and a little hard mental health wise. But now, it should get better and I can't wait to share the next parts of this story!

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