#shamelessly steals this idea

[hazbinhobo]

Your mind!!!!!!!!!

I need this sm. 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔

I know that "A Tail of Beignets" and "First Bite" start off with Charlie touching Alastor's tail...but what about Alastor touching Charlie's tail? The way Alastor touches Charlie so freely in Episode 5 and Episode 7 has me thinking that he would absolutely run his hands over her tail.

[daily-odile]

heights (act 6 edition)

[videogamelover99]

[Gravity Falls] A Short Reunion

Summary: Ford had traveled the multiverse without a hint of Bill Cipher's presence in his dreams or nightmares. But a reckless leap into an unknown dimension reestablishes a connection Ford had hoped was long gone. [AO3 Link] Characters: Stanford Pines, Bill Cipher Pairings: BillFord Rating: G

A/N: Yeah idk guys Alex Hirsch really said "Bill and Ford's will they/won't they take over the world relationship" and I had to run with it. The toxic yaoi is canon. Enjoy.

---

"Sir, you sure you wanna go that way?" The border guard, a squat, four-eyed creature in an itchy-looking uniform, asked quietly.

Ford pulled the hood down further on his head. "I must. Why do you ask?"

The guard scratched his head, looking worried. He glanced back at the titanium door to Dimension 76*, and Ford followed his gaze.

He could see the perpetual lightning storm surrounding the entrance and beyond it the dimension itself. It was quite like the depictions he’d come across a few weeks ago, a long narrow, cylindrical corridor, like the inside of a watertube, with walls of electrified mist and an air overflowing with strange fumes.

Supposedly, the corridor stretched out into infinity.

"Uh, no reason," said the guard, "it's not like it's any of my business, but...why'd you wanna go there? No one goes out of their way to seek out visions. They're a bad time, y'know?"

Ford knew. Most visitors to Dimension 76* saw either their death or some kind of impending catastrophe they could not prevent. Most stayed clear away. But if there was a chance he'd see a vision that could help him stop Bill, he had to take it.

"I must," he said again.

The guard shrugged. "Suit yourself, I guess." He stepped away from the entrance.

Ford approached it slowly, peering inside. There didn't seem to be any form of gravity, and so he took a breath and leaped into the corridor.

He felt a slight breeze pick him up as soon as his boots left the ground. He floated slowly away from the entrance, and couldn’t help scrambling to hold onto…something. It was useless of course, he just drifted further.

A bolt of lightning crackled just a few yards away, in the mist.

"Oh yeah!" The guard called out, "It's pretty leaky, mind-wise! Watch out for anyone who'd wanna get into your head."

Oh no.

Before Ford could call out, the guard shut the door to the entrance. An ominous CLANG echoed down the tunnel. Ford shuddered.

It would be fine. Despite the wanted posters and the headhunters constantly after him, Ford had not seen Bill since he'd fallen through the portal. There was no reason to think-

He felt it. A wave of drowsiness bowed him over. He knew it was the onset of a vision before his eyes fell closed, heavy with sleep. He struggled to stay conscious for only a moment, before letting it overtake him.

It would be fine. No need to panic. He'd be just fine.

Ford heard the echo of that familiar, horrible laugh before he knew everything had gone wrong.

But by then it was too late.

...

Ford woke up to see his own familiar mindscape, and it instantly filled him with dread.

"Heya, smart guy!"

Ford turned around so fast he stumbled. The flash of panic and deep-rooted anger evaporated when he saw what Bill was holding.

Bill's eye followed Ford's dumbfounded gaze to the bouquet of flowers in his hand. "Hey, heard it doesn't hurt. Token of my goodwill." Bill shoved the flowers into Ford's hands. They smelled like an acid pool and some other, inexplicable flowery scent that wasn't bad, but made him uneasy.

Suddenly, the flowers erupted into a dozen hungry, sharp little mouths, snapping at his face. Ford cried out and dropped the bouquet. The flowers melted into a dark puddle of blood.

"Hey! Kinda rude to throw out a gift, doncha think?" Bill petulantly folded his arms over his front, before his eye crinkled. "Oh, who am I kidding, I can't be mad at you, kid."

His arm extended, a familiar gesture to ruffle Ford's hair, and Ford violently slapped his hand away. "Get out of my head, Cipher!"

"Still mad, huh? Geez, and they say I hold grudges."

Bill winked out of existence and appeared next to Ford with a POP. Ford jerked away, startled. "Come on, you can't be mad at me forever! So I fudged a few details, big deal, it's what I do!"

Anger threatened to bow Ford over, a good part of it aimed at himself. "What are you doing here?"

"Great question!" Bill looked to the side, "Saw you were getting pretty close to an access point and figured 'Hey why not?'" He shrugged. "Haven't had my EYE on you in, what, a week?"

"Five years."

"Oh yeah," Bill said, "Time scales that small get all jumbled up. Who needs seconds? Speaking of!" Bill opened his palm, and a shiny, golden stopwatch materialized in his hand. "It's about time we talked, dontcha think?"

"I have no desire to talk to you."

"Ha ha ha! That'll change."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, you know, I'm about to drop some real bombshells here! So if I were you, I'd hear me out! You're on that whole quest of 'stopping' me and all, who knows what kinda secrets I'd spill if I'm not careful."

Bill had a point that Ford had, unfortunately, considered, if they'd ever meet again. It didn't help that Bill was the one who brought it up in the first place, and it was doubtful he'd give Ford anything more than some dead-end nonsense.

But if Ford said the right thing, and got Bill on edge, then maybe-

"Fine," Ford snapped, "what is it?"

"Good boy," Bill said smugly, and with a snap of his fingers the stopwatch vanished. "Great you decided to stick around, 'cause I'm about to change your mind!"

It's not like I have a choice, Ford thought bitterly.

"I don't think you understand what you're getting if you stick by me, Sixer!"

"I told you, I'd never-"

"INFINITE POWER! Do you have any idea what that means?"

Suddenly, the mindscape around them erupted with light. Ford stumbled, looking down, to see what could only be described as millions of supernovas going off at once.

"You'll never die! Never get old! You'll know everything and get to stick your curious nose into anything you want, just how you like it."

The glow was coming off of Ford's clothing and his hands. He felt like he was on the brink of collapse and bursting with energy all at once, and indescribably ecstatic feeling.

"Infinite possibilities! Infinite choices! Do whatever you want however you want, you get to choose who's right and who's wrong. What do a bunch of ignorant mortals know, anyway? Are they really worth all this? You, running around, getting shot at left and right, are they worth all of that when they couldn't even see who you were beyond some freakish fingers?"

"T-that's irrelevant," Ford tried to shake off the rush of energy, but it clung to him. It was the first time he felt so...

"You'll never be alone."

The words went straight to the bottom of Ford's stomach. He swallowed.

He didn't have to listen to Bill. He didn't have to listen to any of this.

"I don't care."

Bill looked at him for a long time, pupil wide and piercing. "I don't think that's true, kid. Aren't ya tired of running?"

He was. He was tired, hungry, and driven by anxiety and anger every waking moment.

Sometimes, when he got low enough to think, he'd remember his house. He'd trashed it after Bill had betrayed him, but the comfort of a ripped couch was better than the hardness of alien rocks. He'd had food, he'd had a shower.

Sometimes, he'd remember a different home, one near the sea. His mom's terrible cooking, his father's stern, unwavering face.

He made sure, in those moments, not to think of his brother.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Bill said.

Ford turned to look at him, a newfound burn in his chest. "It doesn't matter. I'd rather be alone than give in to you."

Bill let out a frustrated noise that Ford had never heard before. "Oh, come on! That's just petty! You're seriously gonna spend your time eating alien rats when you could be top of the food chain?"

Something didn't sit right with him. "Why do you want me on your side so badly?"

"That's-!" Bill sputtered, sputtered! Ford didn't know what to think. "This isn't about me, wise guy! This is about-"

"Why are you here, Bill?"

"Because you need to get over yourself!"

Bill's shrill voice bounced off the nonexistent walls of the mindscape. Ford uncovered his ears, just to be met with another tirade. "We get it, you fancy yourself a BIG HERO, you wanna play hard to get, but we both know that's never what you're after! You wanted to get rich and famous off some big discovery because you can't stand not getting the attention, well guess what, I'm offering all that on a silver platter! And you're turning your nose up because, what, you're too good for it?"

"I'd never-"

"Shut UP! I'M TALKING!"

Ford shut up.

Bill blinked, "I sure got mad there, huh."

It had felt personal. For a moment, Ford thought (hoped?) that Ford's refusal had truly gotten under Bill's skin. If it was even a fraction of the betrayal Ford had felt. That it wasn't just Bill trying to manipulate him.

"Is that," Ford breathed. "Is that all?"

Bill scowled down at him. "Whatever. You'll be back. We both know you'll be back." He raised a hand. "See ya in your nightmares, kid."

He snapped his fingers.

...

Ford woke up, breathing ragged. He looked around.

He was lying on something solid, a small patch of grass underneath his head. It wasn't Dimension 76* anymore. It had spat him out.

The vision was already slipping away from his memory. There was something odd about it, wasn't there? Something that Bill had said-

But it was gone from his mind, and something told Ford he shouldn't try to remember.

[undead-potatoes]

Sunny! Don't know if anyone else has asked you this, but tell us about your Rook too please? Class, background, fun fact :3

HAAA I was JUST about to post my own little introduction when you sent this, perfect timing B)

This is my Rook, Ronnie Mercar (he/she/they), a dwarven rogue belonging to the Shadow Dragons faction.

I'm still hashing things out, but the idea so far is that they used to belong to one of the minor noble houses of Orzammar. In their youth they were heavily influenced by the political discourse surrounding the casteless*, as well as their anxieties surrounding what was expected of them by their family and Orzammar society, both of which fed into their more rebellious nature.

Long story short, years of animosity towards her family and Orzammar as whole made her leave the dwarven city behind, a final act of defiance of both. She did regret this decision about 5 minutes after going through with it, but the bridges had already been burned so she had no choice but to keep on going.

He spent the first couple of years just roaming about, surviving mostly of off the valuables he had brought with him from Orzammar and letting the wind take him where it might. This is where his personal and political journey truly began, discovering the world and just how sheltered he had been growing up. He became more and more involved with the "small folk" in his travels, both as a necessity and out of curiosity, which is how he eventually got tangled up in organizations like Red Jenny and later the Shadow Dragons.

It's this journey of someone who lived a very comfortable life, had an awakening that just shook their entire world view to their core, and slowly became more and more radicalized about it. Their activism was probably clunky as fuck to begin with, but after a few decades in the right company they figured their shit out, as you do.

The meta reason they're a rogue is bc I wanted to play one again. The in-universe reason is that they were primarily taught to fight from members of the various groups they ran into, most of which I imagine would be rogues playing fast and loose with the "rules" of combat. They have the body for it too, being very agile and strong in ways similar to a gymnast, with a good amount of upper body strength and a strong core.

Fun facts:

He absolutely cannot stand mushrooms. The texture, the flavor, the way they're in EVERYTHING down in Orzammar, it just all made him hate them with a fiery passion.

Despite being blind in one eye, they're a great shot. You only need one eye for aiming anyways.

She hates it when people shortens her name to Ron. It's either Ronnie, Fevronia, or Rook. Take your pick or fuck off.

*In my canon, the Warden was a casteless dwarf who was made Paragon after the blight, and thus had a noble house founded in her name. She let in all sorts of casteless to her house after its founding, as is the right of any Paragon who founds a house, and I imagine this in combination with King Bhelen making a (former) casteless noble hunter his rightful queen really stirred the shit pot in Orzammar.

For with a society as ancient and rigid as Orzammar, what do you do when that rigidity is fundamentally shaken to its core? When some of the most revered and powerful among you suddenly come from stock you considered a stain on your entire race? And let me tell you, my Brosca did absolutely nothing to make that noise any quieter, taking every opportunity to be just as defiant and scandalous as she could get away with.

I'm not sure how much change this actually ended up enacting, but it sure as hell kept the political discourse going.

[ranbling]

Mid season finale ends with Eddie being in danger after endangering himself to save a victim, we don't know if he's okay or not

next episode starts with a ceremony, everybody is looking serious, Chris is back, Eddie's portray is displayed... Turns out its just a medal ceremony for Eddie 'cause of his heroic save during the rescue

[lettuce-from-the-spruce-forest]

ReNether 1.0 development is finishing pretty much as soon as mcreator updates

If anyone wants to shoot an idea my way before things wrap up send one over :>

[mercymaker]

not to be sadposting at 4am, but maybe it's time to accept the fact that tumblr as I've grown used to throughout my many years here is truly gone and this new tumblr is simply not for me

[toh-tagteam-au]

I’m realizing that with luz in the human realm, belos will grow more determined to try to find her, starting with attacking the owl house.

Will we have luz flashing back to when she first enters the boiling isles?

It's hard for me to reply to this without outright spoiling it, but interesting concept!

and AAAGH flashbacks to when she first enters the boiling isles would be SO COOL! I didn't have that written in, but... maybe i can do that. really quickly.

[shivunin]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag, @dungeons-and-dragon-age!

I'm working on a Fenhawke thing currently. It's sort of themed around this quote, which I adore:

and skipping between the act 3 romance scene and post-Inquisition (their two reunions).

Dreams could not capture the sheer immediacy of her, the precise texture of the skin at the back of her neck, nor the way her breath caught when he stroked his thumb across her palm. Even so, Fenris asked himself again and again if this was a dream. How could it be real? He had wanted this for so long and… “Hawke,” he said, breaking away only enough to speak.  When she blinked at him, her eyes were languorous and soft and deep. Fenris leaned forward again at once, pulling her back against him, drunk on her mouth and her eyes. It was foolish; he’d intended to say—something. No, it didn’t matter right now. 

“Fenris,” she murmured several minutes later, and he trailed kisses over her cheekbone and jaw while she caught her breath. The taste of her—how had he forgotten? When he nipped the skin at her jaw, she shivered against him. He would have kissed her again at the sensation, but she turned her face away.  “Yes,” he said, gathering himself. He did not quite manage to make it a question.  “Were you going to say something?” she asked, half-laughing, and he leaned his forehead against hers. “Or did you just want to say my name?” He did want to say her name, over and over again like a chant, as if saying it would keep her here, as if speaking it aloud meant something entirely different now. Perhaps it did.  “Maria,” he said, quiet, for he’d thought of her name as often and as privately as he’d thought of the way her lips had felt. Hawke closed her eyes and sucked in a breath at the sound of it, and for a moment he thought he had erred. But… “Say it again,” she murmured.  From the moment she’d stood from the bench—or he’d half-pulled her from it—they’d been standing before the fire, too distracted by each other to sit or move. Fenris pulled her with him now, leaning back against the table and waiting for her to join him there. She relaxed against him, filling every empty space he left for her, and Fenris traced her cheek with his fingertips before speaking again.  “Maria,” he said again. “Maria. You are here.” “Here I am,” she agreed, dark eyelashes closing over her lovely eyes. Look at me, he wanted to say to her, as he’d wanted to say ever since that night.  But now was not the time. “What now?” he asked instead.  Instead of answering, she angled her head to the side and kissed his jaw, achingly careful and very, very slow. After the first kiss, she gave him a second, then a third, rising from the hard bone at his jaw to the swell of his cheek. Fenris held still for her, but he did not realize that he was holding his breath until she eased back again.  “Alright,” she said, so solemnly that he straightened to attention. He needn’t have bothered. “There you are. That’s my contribution. Now what?” Fenris blinked, then rolled his eyes upward.  “Hawke…” “There it is!” she said, grinning, and added in a scowling, gravelly imitation of his own voice. “Hawke.” Fenris grasped her hips and pulled her to him, kissing her again and again, somewhat more difficult while she was laughing at him. He persisted nonetheless, until her laughing petered off to soft noises instead. He nudged her nose with his, stealing one last kiss before he pulled away.  “You knew what I meant.” “Did I?”  “You did,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Unless—you have no thoughts on the matter.” “I have plenty of thoughts,” she told him solemnly, “just ask poor Sebastian. He’s heard enough of them to fill a thousand volumes.” Fenris snorted, but he was searching her face even as he reacted. Hawke was avoiding the question; she only ever did this when she didn’t want to talk about something.  Very well. He would speak first. They’d come this far, had they not?

I feel like I've called in everyone for the tag game today, so I'm gonna keep the list very short this time and just tag @greypetrel @star--nymph and (genuinely!) anybody else who wants in!

[torisinners]

me @ me: what if you used your other fcs as other versions of yourself

[vampirealpaca]

He’s just my silly little guy (is wanted in seventeen countries for manslaughter)

[catrillion]

Automata Weekly Update 2/4/23

I decided I wanna start sharing excerpts each week of things I've written for Automata while also sharing my progress for that week! Mostly it's so I can look back and see my progress over time, but also it's a fun way to share bits of what I've written.

So this week, I wrote 9k words. I focused a lot on Toru, Nami, Hyakuji, and Rikka- I love writing for these guys, too, because they each have such fun personalities and play off of each other so well.

Also!! This week I had the special experience of writing something that made me cry! How exciting!! (It's not the part I'm sharing today lol, sorry)

Anyway. As of today, my total word count for Automata is 90,313. I'm hoping to make it to 100k by the end of the month. Now that I'm not feeling sick, I think I can do it! Honestly, so long as nothing big happens, I think I can do it in the next week or two.

Under this read more, I have an excerpt I wrote this week- this is like the only part I worked on this week that isn't full of spoilers lol.

The blonde girl- the one with the short hair who wasn’t Nami- was a few steps behind him and also had a bag of her own slung over her shoulder. “I can get the door, you know! You don’t have to-”

Out of nowhere, there was the sound of commotion behind him. Akashi turned back to doors to the cafeteria- Hyakuji had kicked them open and was making his way to the side of the room toward the kitchen. He had two large cloth bags that were full-to-bursting.

“If you weren’t so slow,” he shouted back over his shoulder, “I wouldn’t have to!”

Akashi looked around the room. Everyone had already gone back to their regular conversations. This must have been a pretty regular occurrence.

Rikka caught up with Hyakuji and pushed him with her free hand before blowing past him. “Jackass,” she barked back at him. Weirdly, she followed it up immediately with a laugh.

A man popped his head out of the kitchen. “You two should be careful or else we’re gonna lose all of the groceries again,” he admonished.

“She started it,” Hyakuji huffed.

She didn’t argue. She just stuck out her tongue.

Irekae scoffed, drawing Akashi’s attention back to their table. “They’re so immature,” he grumbled. He looked back at Akashi. “You said you’re training with him today?”

He nodded. “Right after lunch.”

“Ugh. I wish you’d done us all a favor and did kill him the other day.”

“Irekae!”

“What? I’m joking.” Irekae leaned in toward Akashi. He placed his elbow on the table and jabbed his thumb behind him at Hyakuji, who was still unloading the contents of the bags and arguing with the kitchen staff. “But seriously, it’s not too late. He’d never see it coming and-”

Izumi swatted his hand. “You’re the worst,” she huffed.

“Yeah, yeah. So? How about it?”

As much as he didn’t want to do this training session, he was even less keen on this idea. “Uh, sorry. I don’t think I’m going to do that.”

He threw his hands up. “Man, what good is having the Guild’s combot around if you’re not even gonna kill a few annoying people?”

“We told you, Irekae-kun; he’s not the Guild’s weapon.”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t sound very confident in that.

He decided he was going to assume that Irekae had been joking- the alternative seemed just as likely, but he didn’t want to think about that- and rubbed the back of his neck. “To be honest, I’m... I’m nervous about training with him.”

“You should be,” Irekae said. Even though he was agreeing with him, three comment didn't feel particularly helpful.

“He’s really not so bad,” Izumi responded.

Oukan nodded. “Yeah. Hyakuji’s funny.”

He looked back at them both. He wasn’t sure if he agreed with Oukan’s assessment.

That was when Hyakuji noticed Akashi looking his way. He shouted, “Oi! Okashi!”

“Aw shit, he’s coming over,” Irekae hissed.

And coming over he was. Rikka followed, hovering a few steps behind the entire way.

Hyakuji slammed his hands on the table. “Okashi, I hope you haven’t forgotten about training today,” he said, still shouting as if they were still across the room from one another.

He looked up at Hyakuji. It just means he likes you, he reminded himself. “We were just talking about that, actually.”

“Great. And this time, look out- I'm not going easy on you again.”

He looked around the table. “O-okay.”

Oukan leapt up in her seat. “Hey! Hyakuji! Did you bring us anything good this time?”

“Something up to the palates of this here picky eaters association? Doubt it.” He gestured with his thumb back at the kitchen. “The soup kitchen had some extra ingredients they wanted to share, so we’ve got leeks, onions, a few potatoes-“

Oukan scrunched up her nose.

He laughed. “Hey, it’s free veggies. You know how much a damn potato goes for these days?”

The girl cleared her throat. “Hey. Hyakuji.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, alright Rikka. Look, I gotta go finish getting this put away.” He pointed at Akashi. “I’ll see you after ‘lunch.’” Once again he was laughing.

He knew he was making fun of him, but Akashi just nodded. “Okay. I'll be there.”

Hyakuji knocked his knuckles against the table and turned to get back to his chores. Rikka followed again, but her icy glare was trained on Akashi the entire way.

[sunsage]

Send me a 📁

Send me a 📁 for a random small headcanon about my muse

He's not a fan of hot drinks, especially if it's something thick. Something like simple tea he can more or less stomach, but hot coffee or cocoa drinks make him queasy.

[purinfelix]

Franco Colapinto, where his girlfriend gets jealous of his interviews, so she does everything to make him jealous in return.

a taste of his own medicine ⋆.ೃ࿔*���- franco colapinto

summary: you've had enough of your boyfriend's shameless flirting during interviews, and hatch a plan to get back at him for it w/c : 1.3k

a/n: AAAA this is such a cute idea anon - i wrote a good chunk of this a while ago but only just finished the last bit today, thank u for the req and i hope u enjoy !! <333

You wondered if your boyfriend could feel the stone-cold glare you were giving the back of his head from your spot in the VIP lounge - though if he could, he surely wasn't doing anything about it.

Initially, there hadn't been any problems with keeping your relationship secret - in fact, it had been your idea for a number of reasons. You just didn't consider yourself ready to be swarmed and scrutinised by the media or have the title of 'F1 wag' bestowed upon you. It didn't feel right, if anything it felt like a disservice to boil down your relationship with Franco to something so sensationalized. Keeping it private seemed the best decision, at least for the time being. But now, the longer you watched your boyfriend shamelessly flirt with anyone who crossed his path, the more you grew to regret this decision.

You weren't by any means a jealous person by nature, but something about the fact that no one but you had any problem with this situation - and only because they didn't know about your relationship - irritated you. If only you could figure out a way to make Franco feel the same way you were. Just at that moment, as if by fate, you spotted a young-looking boy in a race suit walking casually past the lounge. His carefree walk, curly brown hair and boyish smile - bingo.

"Hey there," you called out, hopping up from the chair you were sitting in and walking over to the boy.

"Oh, hello," he replied, seemingly taken aback by being addressed by you.

"Sorry, it's just that I'm a little new to all of this and," you look him up and down, "you look like you know what you're doing, do you think you could show me around?"

He laughs shyly, hand rubbing the back of his nape. "Well, I mean, alright then, I'm Ollie by the way."

"Lovely to meet you, Ollie." You offer a girly giggle which you try your best not to cringe at as you follow the boy, who begins to walk around the nearest garage.

He begins to explain things, the process of getting ready to drive, the roles of different team members and the physics of the car itself - all of which you could care less about, but you nod earnestly regardless. Along the way, you even offer any mechanic or engineer who seems your age a friendly smile, and even a wink if they're particularly good-looking.

It's just your luck too that all of this is happening just close enough to the media hubs where your boyfriend has been stuck all afternoon. You try your best not to look too often over at him, not wanting to give away the true intentions of this mini tour you're scored for yourself. He doesn't seem to share the same sentiment though, based off of how many times you've caught him stealing glances at you, his eye following watchfully as you laugh and tease your impromptu tour guide.

"And so every element of car design has the purpose of making it as fast as possible, either through aerodynamics or by making everything lightweight," he continues to explain excitedly, and even though you're starting to feel dizzy from all the nodding you give him a quick one.

"Oh, wow!" You say, and before you know it you've landed yourself in the perfect position - within both earshot and line of vision of your boyfriend who seems to be wrapping up one of his last interviews for the night. Now, for the cherry on top.

You watch as Franco finishes saying his goodbyes to the last of the media crew, his eyes now searching the paddock for you. Knowing that he's looking at you, you throw your head back in laughter at nothing in particular and bring a hand up to graze Ollie's upper arm. Though you have his back to him you know your boyfriend well enough that when you feel a hand on your own shoulder mere seconds later, you aren't too shocked.

"Oh, hello Franco," you hum, feigning innocence. "Ollie here was just showing me around and keeping me company, isn't he the sweetest?"

"Very sweet." He grins through gritted teeth, though his strengthening grip on your shoulder says otherwise.

"No problem, oh but hey I forgot to show you just one more th-"

"Thanks, kid, but my girlfriend and I have got to get going."

Trying not to make it too obvious on your face how pleased you were that your plan had worked, you thanked Ollie once more before you felt Franco's grip sliding down your arm and intertwining his fingers with yours. Desperately, he dragged you off and away from your tour guide - who had a slightly confused expression painted on his face as he watched the two of you disappear into the Williams garage. You were amazed by how quickly your boyfriend was walking as he pulled you into his driver's room, shutting the door behind you quickly.

"What was that?" he huffed immediately, not giving you a second to say anything. You only smiled in response, watching his normally calm expression morph into one of frustrated confusion.

"I told you, Ollie was showing me around, you were busy with your interviews anyways," you decide to keep up the act of innocence, though you can tell he's not buying it.

"Bullshit, what sort of showing around involves touching him."

"I didn't think you were watching, those reporters seemed to keep you pretty occupied," you say in a sing-songy tone, throwing yourself down on the couch in his room. You wait for him to respond - something equally sarcastic or quippy, but when you turn to look at him you see him staring at the wall in front of him, eyes furrowed in confusion. Slowly, the cogs in his mind seem to start working as his expression slowly changes into one of realisation.

"You were jealous," he breathes out, turning to you with eyes wide and brows raised.

"Oh pfft- I wouldn't say jealous, bored now that might be more accurate but-" You're interrupted by him taking a seat on the couch next to you, face now painted with a smug look.

"You didn't like that I was talking to so many reporters, did you?" His teasing tone is enough to make your heart race a little, though you try your best to keep calm.

"I'm pretty sure you were doing a little more than talking babe, you were flirting!"

He looks at you with a slightly offended expression, "flirting?" It's almost as if he's just realising what he was doing.

"Uhm, duh."

"Did it really look like that?" His brows curve up into a pleading expression, "I didn't mean to, I swear!" You let out a soft chuckle watching his apologetic expression.

"It's fine baby, just try to be a little less friendly next time - I think your PR team would appreciate it anyway." He nods, scooting a little closer so that he can lay his head on your shoulder. There's a beat of silence before he speaks again.

"You were jealous," he hums, almost as if he's talking to himself.

"Wh- so were you! Poor Ollie is probably terrified of you now!"

"Whatever, he's a big boy, he'll live," he sighs, reaching for your hand and intertwining it in his "Plus, don't act like you're any better using that kid to get back at me."

"Hey, I had to do something before you walked out of that media room with a second girlfriend," you crossed your arms in annoyance, refusing to even look at him.

"You're cute when you're jealous," he laughs, before turning to peck at your jawline. Before you can stop you're melting into his touch, bringing a hand up to brush his curly hair away from his face. It might be a weak apology to some, but to you - to be here with him, in the privacy of his driver's room, away from Ollie, the reporters, and the rest of the world - it's more than enough.

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