#and bonos jacket

[shovson]

@/OfficialBrawnGP: http://twitpic.com/xxivp - Michael with his engineers Andrew Shovlin and Peter Bonnington…(src)

[bonos-grindcore-sideproject]

[swaggypsyduck]

our disney prince 🥰🥰

[blorbocedes]

honestly something that isn't leaving my mind r the amount of jokes and digs at the expense of Nico just from this gp alone like there's one thing to take a light-hearted dig every once in a while but the outright disrespect (disguised as jokes or not) Nico has gotten from the grid/journalists/commentators during his time as a driver and afterwards even up to this day is insane. He's better than me fr cause at this point I would've commited a murder

sky commentators are reliant on playing nice with the FIA/Liberty for their jobs. they can't be critical of any aspect that can threaten their job security

Nico is a world champion, infinitely rich, does not rely on that paycheck. That's why he straight up said today the FIA should've gotten the safety car way earlier instead of double yellows. He corrects Crofty multiple times when he's wrong. Actual members of the grid respect Nico and can be pulled in for a quick comment (Todt, Bono) when they'd ignore Kravitz. And he's a world champion who won in the last decade, who knows wheel, and when put to the test vastly outclasses the rest of them. So the clique of commentators don't really fuck with him, and keeping trying to needle him to talk about brocedes/silver war/mind games and fights. Sky also probably pays more to retain him for it to be worth his while

he's strutting in his 2k LV jacket, the passive aggressiveness slides off him, and this gig is a hobby that he chooses his incredibly lax schedule of which handful of races to commentate. He's only here cause he loves the sport, he doesn't wanna go get dinner with Crofty and Hill.

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

Deep Water Prompt #3234

My best thrifted suit is haunted by an ex-stock broker, who hates my pro bono work with every fiber of his ghostly being. He is so loud, but I look so so good in his jacket.

[funstealer]

L.G.B. Bono 3 Jacket

[miloformula123fan]

Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife reader? Where his love language is like he make sure to bring a jacket if it's cold/rain for her, cheek/temple peck. And her love language is picking up his favorite snacks/meals from the store/homemade, holding hands/lean head on his shoulder. Just domestic things. Fully fluff and romantic. Add something else to it if it's not right. Thanks!! :))

haha, between me, this anon and @leosxrealm, we have 3 simps for bono

bono is hot. that is all i will say.

i also have a bit of an angsty part 2 (because angst is kinda what i do :) )

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

peter 'bono' bonnington x female!race engineer!reader

A jacket

Bono watched as his wife walked towards the ferrari garage, and then back to the pit wall. It was raining hard here, not unsurprising for Melbourne, and it was quite heavy, so the session had been delayed. As all the other engineers were doing, they were talking to the drivers and then working on data and double checking the radar. Bono supposed he was lucky in that way, all the information was in the garage for him. For Ferrari, the data was available on the pitwall, and the radar and the driver were inside, so he was watching his wife walk backwards and forwards in the rain, with no umbrella or even a raincoat, just in her ferrari clothes which were now soaked and with her hair sticking to her face he had no idea how she was even getting straight answers out of Carlos.

He once again saw her walk out again to the pitwall and start typing. He pulled up his own mercedes rain jacket before jogging out towards the ferrari pitwall. Y/N heard the footsteps approaching her pitwall and assumed it was Xavi or another Ferrari team member needing some data. However as she turned around she was not expecting to come face to face with her husband

“What are you doing here? Trying to steal our data?” Y/N grinned as she spun around to face her husband.

“Don’t think we need it, darling” Bono grinned back at his partner.

“Sorry, which team is coming 1st in the constructors, and which is coming 3rd?” She teased.

“Darling, there’s been 2 races.” Bono sighed, this was a regular occurrence in their household.

“Still counts. Anyway, what are you doing here, if not to steal our data?” Y/N’s face slightly fell as she tried to ascertain what her husband was doing here.

“It’s raining…” Bono attempted to explain

“No shit sherlock!” Y/ explained, looking surprised and sarcastic at Bono.

“You're wet…” he tried to continue

“Well thanks darling, I now know I can always rely on my husband to give me a good compliment. Although why’d you come out of the garage if not to also get wet. All your data is inside…” Y/N looked confused and sarcastic.

Bono shook his head, thinking and laughing about his wife’s banter, before holding out the unbranded rain jacket. “For your rushing between the Ferrari garage and the pit wall. You’re gonna catch a cold.”

She looked at him and smiled before taking the jacket and slipping it over her shoulders, nearly punching Bono in the process. She grimaced before looking up with an odd soft smile on her face

“Thanks babe.” She smiled sheepishly and looked won, before dashing once again out in the rain towards the ferrari garage. 

All safe and dry. Bono thought as he walked back to the Mercedes garage. Safe. Dry. and warm. That was how he liked to keep his partner.

A good luck kiss

“Hey, hey darling, before you go…” Bono approached her wife, just before the race. Lewis and Carlos were starting P5 and P6, so they were just opposite each other, so Bono worked out a way to sneak away quickly to see his wife.

“Yes, Peter?” Y/N turned away from the mechanic who had been trying to talk to her. Bono loved this about his partner, he’d often always found that he’d been talked over, but Y/N was one of the people who had always made sure that he was listened to and that his ideas were heard.

Yeah sure, Y/N sometimes snubbed other people as the Ferrari mechanic was seething over her shoulder, apparently desperate to continue talking to her, but she would never do it for him.

“Kiss for good luck?” Bono knew his puppy dog eyes were questionable, as a man in his mid 40s.

Bono smiles as he looks down on her, before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

“How can I say no to you?”

“You can’t!”

“I know.”

Picking up snacks

“So Carlos, I just wanted to discuss…”

Bono had been very sad to wake up all alone in the bed, but hearing his wife’s voice echo from the office next door made him realise what had happened.

He went into the kitchen, and pulled out the breakfast that they had been planning on having together today. He paused as he pulled it out, before pulling out the other jar, untouched. Y/N’s breakfast. He knew the meeting that Y/N was in was probably confidential, but he also knew that Y/N had been up for a while. So he shuffled into Y/N’s office and placed the jar of chia seed pudding and the spoon in front of Y/N.

When Y/N looked up to see food and spoon being placed on top of her plans, she was not sure what she was expecting to see, but it was not her partner, half asleep, without his glasses on, hair sticking up everywhere, in just a dressing gown and slippers, squinting at the minimal light that was on in the room.

‘What are you doing?’ Y/N mouthed at Bono

Bono shrugged before shuffling out of the room again.

Y/N grinned to herself, shovelling a mouthful of the chia seed pudding in her mouth before turning back to Carlos and continuing her spiel.

—

“I’m so sorry baby, they just called me at like 7am, and were like ‘we know it’s your day off but we don’t care so you have to come in’ and i’m not happy about it darling. It’s OUR day off and…” she buried her head in his chest “i wanna spend it with you.” she concluded in  a small voice.

They stayed like this for 10 minutes. Y/N with her head buried in Bono’s chest, before her phone started ringing again. Her groan was muffled in his chest, but he heard both the phone and the groan that followed.

“Hey, it’s okay, baby. I’ll do some of my work today, so then tomorrow we can still have a bit of a day off, even if it is not ‘officially’ a day off.”

“Mhm,” said Y/N as she began to extract herself from Bono’s hug. Bono, pulling her off as he grabbed a bowl he’d already prepared.

“Some trail mix darling, to get you through til lunch.”

“Thank you baby.”

—

“I know the data looks good, but it’s irrelevant until we get to testing and we can compare it to Red Bull and Mercedes. Yeah the data will…”

Bono had pulled on some earphones, while on a phone call with Toto, partially so he could get work done while he made lunch. He’d also left them on to visit his wife so that if she was talking about stuff that he wasn’t allowed to hear, it wouldn’t violate their NDAS.

Bono nudged the door with his elbow, holding a plate and a drink, in his hands. Y/N looked up from the chaos of her desk, hair frazzled, bin overflowing, data everywhere. Bono cleared a small space on the desk for the glass of water, and the plate with the egg salad lettuce wrap.

She grinned, as she took a bite into the wrap, before turning back to the computer and continuing her babbling, as Bono smiled as he shut the door and returned to his own room.

—

“Darling i love your food, but this truffle pasta is not as good as ferrari’s” - Y/N

“Next time we can go to Ferrari's hospitality then, or you can have my salmon.” - Bono

“I don’t want your salmon, I want Ferrari’s truffle pasta. Wait, there’s gonna be a next time? I think we should go to Red Bull if there’s gonna be a next time.” - Y/N grinned

“Based on their catering budget i reckon their pasta will somehow rival Ferrari’s” - Bono chuckled

“Well I guess next time we shall have to see!” - Y/N flashed her cheeky grin at him, as she dived back into the pasta.

“No, next time we have to go to Ferrari and see how much better pasta we can make.” - Bono insisted

“So we have 2 more dates planned, and then…”

Y/N could feel the eyes on her bright red Ferrari jacket in a sea of black, greys and whites in the Mercedes hospitality.

But the stares and whispered comments all faded as Bono laughed at some funny joke she had mentioned the ferrari screw ups so far this season.

Watching bono talk about the few things that mercedes had ever fucked up, made all the eyes fade away.

At least until Lewis, Toto and James all sat down and started chatting to Bono about various data that Y/N was sure that she wasn’t supposed to be hearing.

Bono cleared his throat “Um, guys? Is this really the time?”

Y/N did not miss the Cheshire cat grins on James and Toto’s faces “why of course now is the time, why wouldn’t now be the time?”

“Because I’m trying to have a nice calm and peaceful lunch with my wife and…”

Y/N preened at being labelled as Bono’s wife, at least until Lewis decided to open his big mouth

“We’re here because we were trying to work out if the rumours were true.”

“What rumours?”

“The rumours that there was a ferrari spy in the open eating out truffle pasta.”

“I mean it’s not very good truffle pasta. You should maybe not make pasta, it’s kinda ferrari’s thing.”

“Right, let’s divert money from the car development into the catering budget, i suppose.” Toto mused

“Yeah, maybe some funding out of the pit crew, because they will be more motivated, if they’re being fed better.”

“Bono, can we borrow your partner for financial advice?”

“Don’t know how she’d feel about that one.”

“Nah, happy at ferrari and yelling at people for stupid strategy.” She grinned, before finishing her drink, and giving Bono a kiss on his head before wandering off

Holding hands

Y/N looked up at Bono as he slipped his hand into hers . Slightly surprised by his demonstration of public affection, she tried to send him a questioning look. But he was looking full ahead trying to belt out the British anthem. He was stuffing up the anthem, he kept singing ‘god save the queen’ instead of ‘god save the king’. Y/N instead made eye contact with Susie, who smiled and then opened her mouth when she saw the hand holding. Y/N sent a look going ‘I KNOW RIGHT?’ and then they grinned at each other before looking forward again. So neither saw the small grin that filled Y/N’s face.

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3

[keelt9]

Chapter 5

Masterlist

Montreal definitely wins the trophy of the most rainy race until now. When we arrived in Canada, the sky was gray but nothing else. Now, with the beginning of media day, a pretty background with lightning appears earlier in the morning.

As Lewis kept working in his media duties, I was on the rooftop from the hospitality working in layouts Thomas sending me, one of my house and the other for the shelter.

The lighting makes someone curse as it goes up stairs, I giggle when Rosa appears grabbing her chest scanning the room.

“It’s just a lighting Rosa.” She scoffs and sits at the other side of the table.

“You've been working all this time?” I nod and raise an empty bag of snacks, following for a new one I just opened. 

“And eating.” I saved the file to avoid a disaster before closing it and left it aside so I can talk to her without distractions.

Rosa takes the open bag and scrunches her nose. “Dried seaweed?”

I giggle. “I lost a bet with my brother, so he will be choosing my snacks for a whole week.” 

Talking about the king of Rome, Lewis appears in the stairs already changed and pretty excited for the end of a media day.

“You punish her with snacks?” Rosa complained right away, Lewis rolled his eyes, sitting next to me. “She loves her snacks.”

Lewis looked at me as I stuck my tongue out. “She lost! Besides these are healthy ones.” 

I laugh at the same time two lightning flashes appear in the sky. 

“How can you work here? It’s windy, there's lightning and it’s starting to get cold.” Rosa looks at me, relaxing her lethal eyes; at least I have a hoodie to cover me from the wind.

Lewis shakes her hand. “Thank you. Is the same thing I told her.” He scans the rooftop; all the boys and girls of the cafeteria were already in the lounge. “Let’s go, you’re an amused person.”

“There is no one here.” I raise my hands as he takes my laptop. 

Rosa ate seaweed and scrunched her nose standing, like her it took me a while to get used to the flavor.

“From far.” Next to us is the Red Bull hospitality, the upper floor is crowded with cameras and cellphones getting ready for record.

I stand and follow them with my bags in my hands. The salty flavor? Yes, I could get used to it.

The day of P1 came with a slight rain from time to time. I like the rainy days however I hate Lewis having to drive with this kind of weather. 

“Take care ok?” I ask Lewis at the back of the garage. “I’ll be right here.”

Lewis smiles, grabbing my cheek. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry too much.”

Once the member of his team appears in the room, they are ready to go. Lewis smiles at me before walking away. 

All the practice, I was pressing my hands together and cracking my finger trying to stay calm even when all is in total calm; it was until Lewis's car stopped and he got out of the car I could relax a little bit.

We don’t need any words, he just passes next to me and grabs my arm walking away with his team, he’s safe. 

I heard indications that all the cars must be in the garage in 20 minutes, so I reached Bono who’s about to walk inside the room for the feedback with an innocent question in mind.

“Hey Bono, is there a problem if I go and walk along the track for a while?” I don’t see Toto coming too. 

“Little H, give them 30 minutes and you can go.” Toto smiles entering the room.

Bono raises his shoulders. “You hear the boss.”

By the time I see the cars passing in front of the garage and George’s and Lewis’ getting inside too, I see my clock and 40 minutes have already passed.

“Take an umbrella.” Rosa said to me when she saw me walking out of the garage. 

The sky is still cloudy, a few drops won’t hurt me.

“It’s ok, I’ll just be out for a couple of minutes.” I put on a huge black jacket. “This is enough.”

Rosa shakes her head as she keeps talking with her team.

It’s nice to get some fresh air; combined with the few drops over my head that made me feel relaxed, the loud noises from the tools, people and other equipment became distant after a while.

It was the sound of footsteps and faster breathing that made me turn around seeing Max trying to keep his suit race on at the level of his waist.

“Do you have something to do with the rain?” I stop, waiting for him. “In this week, every time there is a high chance of a storm you are sitting or walking around open space.”

Unintentionally the corner of my lips rises as I put my hands on my pockets. For the first time there is not this discomfort sensations with him.

“I believe you don’t have trouble getting wet, a little bit. Do you mind if I join to you?” I see Max with her big jacket too. “A quick walk along the track.”

I breathe in slowly and keep walking, he remains in his spot, so I turn around but don’t stop walking. 

“You coming right?” Max smiles make me smile.

For 40 minutes Max told me about old races on rainy days with stories about mistakes that almost turned into a disaster and funny moments he could remember, the way he speaks and the fact his hands seem to do it too actually made me laugh a couple of times.

Even from time to time I challenge myself by asking him a few questions about him and his first years of racing.

“Aren't you curious? What will be living a day with so many things happening around you.” Max chuckles. 

“I mean, I don’t mind being anonymous from time to time.” We’re walking back to the garage, our clothes weren't damped. The rain stops after a while leaving us with windy weather. “Still, I curious about something.”

He stops talking, making me curious, looking at him. “About?”

“Trying to figure out what you are thinking when you look at me in that way.”

I laugh lightly, it’s not a big change I have towards him, still he notices it. “I guess you're winning the benefit of the doubt.” After all, every conversation we had before I cut it out rudely, this is clearly different.

“I’m taking a pole position?” I genuinely smile at him before turning my face away.

“You have your moments.” The posture of Max relaxes, his shoulders go down even his steps seem light.

He keeps talking about a lot of things and I carefully listen to him until the paddock is a few meters away from us, time to split. 

“I can get used to being surprised by you.” Max said, as we reached the main gates. We visibly relax even if our jackets are clearly  wet.

He looks at the garages and smiles in a wily way. “The Red Bull garage has a nice spot to see the race. Maybe next time you don’t mind seeing different colors in a car.”

“I have a busy diary.” I take my hands from my pockets. “Besides, I'm in the Mercedes team right now.”

Before I could say something else I see Lewis coming out of the garage zone talking with Rosa going to the hospitality.

“I have to go, thanks for walking with me, Max.” I didn’t even reach to give 3 steps when multiple questions attacked my mind.

Bloody hell.

“Max.” I walk back where he remains standing. “I can make you a space… maybe.” 

My phone buzzes the photo Roscoe appears on the screen, it’s Lewis. 

Max didn’t say another word, making me feel shy, so I turned around to keep walking.

“I’ll take it as a <yes>!” Max shouts out as a wide smile appears on his face.

The following days were great for Lewis, he started the race from the second row, making him reach the third position. For my peace I watched the race from the paddock even when the rain stopped hours earlier; there some part of the track still wet, from T.V was hard to see.

Lewis reached me in the hospitality room covered in champagne and a big smile on his face. 

“Congrats!” I stop before hugging him. “Save the hug for later.” 

We high five as he goes to change for the last interviews he had for the day, and we can fly right away to home. We don’t want to miss any birthday of the family if we can be there, even if Lewis could be there just for one day.

I spent that week in London making a quick trip to Newport to see the progress of the house.

“Are you taking Roscoe with you?” Thomas asked as we stood seeing the people working, Roscoe next us. 

“Of course, it’s Austria. Besides, after that I'll be in Monaco for a couple of days sending my things back to London.” I get down, kissing Roscoe's face. “He gives great advice for packing.”

Thomas laughs. “Have you already mentioned something to Lewis?” 

I sigh. “I will, in Monaco.” 

After long days of thinking and talking with friends and family I decided it’s time to stop my travels around the world; with the places set for the shelter and my house along the crucial moment of finishing the project, I need a place to stay calm and be close in case something comes up. That’s why the last GP I will be with my brother, be the one previous to summer break.

“Are you sure? I mean I can keep you informed about every single thing if you need.” Thomas already suggested to me at least I should close this season with Lewis.

“Do you know how tiring it is to travel every week?” I roll my eyes and shake my head. “This is temporary, I don’t want you to screw my house.” 

Thomas scoffed and put his arm around my shoulder looking around. He, like Mika, stands next to me in the worst times, making me aware every day, if I feel the strength left in my body, I always can lead on them.

“This is a nice place to start, after all.” Roscoe barks, calling for us to pay attention. “Don’t worry buddy, I’ll make this a fortress but at the same time I built a nice garden for you.” 

It’s the bulls house, so a lot of his colors were in the fences and every visible place. We arrived in Austria one day before the race, but Lewis suggested that Roscoe and I stay in the hotel, by the time we arrive they would probably be finishing the qualy. 

So that’s what we do, Roscoe and I relax in the hotel near to the pool when Lewis reach us. Roscoe immediately notices him running, pretty excited for the way his little tail moves.

“Hi there.” Lewis hugs me sitting next to me. “How was the flight?” He asked if we didn’t take his jet with us.

“Calm, private.” He laughs. “A tricky day tomorrow, right?” 

Lewis bluffs and assents. “Not the best spot, but we will work on that tomorrow. Anyway, are you hungry?“

Roscoe barks. “We do.” Lewis chuckles while standing so we can go to eat something.

We came back at night tired and stuffed, as I told him the idea of Thomas about the refuge like me, he’s pleased.

“Oh, I have the tickets for the race.” Lewis invited them to the GP of Silverston, the next race in two weeks. “I’ll give it to you at home, ok?”

As we’re waiting for the lift, Roscoe barks when the door opens, Leo in Alex's arms. 

“Young boy, hi.” I greet Leo when they come out. “Charles, Alex, goodnight too.” 

The couple giggles and lets Leo on the ground for the dogs to say hi. 

“Y/N, Max was looking for you.” I choke with my own saliva winning the eyes of three people and two dogs. 

“Are you all right?” Alex asks but I just nod. Thankfully the people who were waiting came out in the other lift, avoiding the talk.

Inside of the lift, I feel Lewis' eyes on me. “You’re taking Roscoe for the night? I ask, trying to switch the topic keeps floating in the air.

“Yeah, I’ll take him to the track.” He simply answered and didn’t say anything else. When the lift reached my floor I thought I would avoid an uncomfortable talk.

“See you tomorrow.” I kiss both of them but Lewis holds the door for a second.

“You know you can talk with me about everything, right?” I almost avoid it. 

“I know.” I reassure him with a smile waving my hand as the door closes. 

In my room, I hide my face on the bed, feeling embarrassed, but the constant buzz of my phone makes me answer the video call.

“Jesus! You scare me!” Mike fakes surprise for my messy hair. “Are you blushing?”

Oh my word, I shake my head, and breath in trying to calm. 

“Is that all?” Mika giggles and raises her hand. 

“Hey, it’s quick, the green one or the blue one?” She raises two dresses in front of her.

“Is it for your date with Thomas?” I wink at her, now who’s blushing. 

Thomas and Mika had a couple of dates, claiming it’s just a friend's meal, but I’ve seen the way they look at each other, and that’s a lame excuse.

“Y/N, focus.” I laugh but I choose the green one. “I have time, you can talk all the time you want.”

Mika, every time she’s nervous, she talks without anything could stop her. 

In the middle of our talk about a funny consultation she had that morning, a soft knock on my door distracted me.

“It’s ok, I almost finish.” She is straighten her hair. 

I shake my head, I wasn't waiting for anyone. “No, it’s ok, Lewis knocked three times before entering.”

After a few seconds, I hear the knock one more time, maybe it’s important after all.

“Sorry Mika.” She smiles and stands in front of the camera giving me a full look of her. “He’s done.” 

Mika winks before saying goodbye to hanging out. 

I walk to the door, as I was talking with Mika I change my clothes for my pjs, I open without even asking, the tiredness taking my body, and close it right away.

Max is at the other side of the door in black shirt with black bags. 

After a long breath, I opened it one more time. “Sorry, you took me by surprise.” 

Max nod and clear his throat. “Sorry, it’s late I know but …” His cheeks are softly turning pink. “Here.”

It's a VIP pass, I choke my head. “Thanks? I mean, I already have one.” I take it from his hands turning around. I see it, it’s from RB garage.

I bite the inside of my cheeks, feeling awkward. “You know I don’t mean a right away invitation, right?”

In Max's face you can see the confirmation of his worst scenario.

“Of course, I imagine that so I came prepared. This is for any GP, when you feel ready to come.” He has that cute smile one more time.

I nod and keep it. “Good night Max.” 

“But.” He closed his eyes. “I'll make my open invitation valid.”

This boy confuses me so easily.

“Checo mentioned you visited Lewis constantly, right?” I nodded slowly. “Would you have a walk with me next time?”

His eyes were closed one more time so he didn't see me smiling at him.

“It's not for being rude but when I'm in Lewis' home it is practically for me to be working on endless paperwork or packing some things I have there…So, I don't have so much time for walking around.” Isn't a lie but I hope Max doesn't feel I turned him down in a rude way, again.

“Perfect! I could help you with that.” He surprised me that I couldn't answer right away. “If you don't mind, of course.”

“Mhm, no, I…I…I don't want you to feel bored or anything like that, so it's ok, we can leave it open.” My mind is struggling to find another excuse.

“It's ok, I don't mind, we talk more comfortably.” He answered calmly, extending his hand for a shake.“Deal?”

I tightened my fist, he raised his eyebrows in a funny way.

I take his hand. “Deal.”

Lewis is right, the race for him simply doesn't go as he expects leaving him in the 8th position. 

After his interviews he always finds a moment of calm along Roscoe; who as typical of him steals glances and hearts from everyone.

When finally we can go home, I see in the RB hospitality a lot of people with happy and exciting expressions, and the multiple race winner in the middle of it.

“Ready?” Lewis asked, coming out ready to go.

“Yeah, let's go.” I take a last look at a victorious Max.

By the second day in Monaco Lewis forgot he had tickets for the Roland Garro in France, he invited me too but there are things to send to London in a few days.

“Are you going to be fine?” Lewis asked, giving Roscoe a piece of celery.

“Sure. We wait here for you to take us home.” Lewis giggles. “Have fun, we have a lot of packing and arrangements, don't worry.”

It's been half of a week in Monaco and Max doesn't give any signs of life, so he probably gets it that being stuck inside of the apartment when he can enjoy the no race week, is a waste of time.

“Hey, it's okay if I invite a friend to help me with…?” Although I couldn't avoid asking 

“It's your house too.” He stands to cut more fruit for us. “I'll be back Wednesday night.”

“Is anything granted, just in case.” Roscoe sees me and growls a little bit. “What?” I whisper to him.

Roscoe walks to his bed taking with him the fluffy lion. “And you’re judging me?” 

“I promise, when you come to my new house, I'll make more than pancakes.” Roscoe licked his nose before we came out of the building.

I turned to my left slightly, then I saw Max in casual jeans walking inside the building.

“This isn't…Come here, baby.” Roscoe follows me as we follow Max reaching him outside of the lift. “Max?” 

He turns around surprised to find us. 

“Hi, I was about to go up.” He petted Roscoe's head. “I guess you're already finished, right?”

“For the…” He nods. “No, I mean, yes, I…I could say that.” I cover my eyes trying to put my ideas in order.

“I mean, yes, I already finished, my brother helped a lot.” Max put his hands in his pockets. 

“Sorry, I have a busy week and well, it would be weird if I call Lewis for he let you know that.” He laughs.

“It's ok, I just have to close a few boxes and put in order a couple of files, I appreciate you coming.” He smirks, I narrow my eyes.

“I will help you with that.” I shake my head. “A good talk will be helpful after all these days.”

That's how we end up in Lewis apartment putting tapes over the boxes and putting papers in order. 

Max was entertaining with something until I realized he was reading the papers of the refuge.

“This is yours?” I nod but I don't take it so much importance. “You have a refuge?”

I walked to see what caught his attention, the sketch of the logo. “Not yet.”

Max sits on the floor reading carefully as he keeps asking me questions about the refuge and all related too; without realizing I ended up telling him about my journey with this project sitting in front of him, on the floor of Lewis living room.

“This seems pretty good, of course I'm not an expert but hey.” He lifted the paper with the final sketch. “This is awesome.”

I feel flatter even with an unusual warmth on my cheek.

“I’m afraid.” I let it out without a filter. “I know I can deal with something like this is just…” I see Roscoe sleeping peacefully. “I don't want to let down anyone, especially Lewis, not after…”

The imagene of Lewis holding me tight on those dark days helps to realize Max's eyes shift, it’s like looking at a calm sea.. 

“I just don’t want to mess up anything.” Max stretched his back giving me the papers. 

“Listen, if you ever need a hand, give me a call.” He stands and picks up his phone, I didn’t even realize someone is calling him. “Just a second.”

He walks to the other side of the room giving me time to calm down a little bit, when he comes back, apologizes but he has to go. I walk with him until the door to say goodbye, just when he walks away…I notice something different.

“Hey Max!” He turns around, raising his eyebrows. “Thanks…for everything, the talk, the packing, the vitamins.” 

Max smiles and takes a deep breath, speaking in a teaser tone. “Well, I scored some points for a small visit to the garage.” 

My answer is a small smile which makes him press his lips together while containing a smile. 

When he goes into the lift I walk back to the living room, shaking my head and putting the last papers in their respective box, but at the corner of one of the sketches Max was seeing there was a small note, along with his number.

>+1  ;)

[milflewis]

@hypersoft-fest week 2: cowboy romance & sci-fi

Lewis Hamilton/Sebastian Vettel, 1k, stuck together

FADE IN:

INT. CANTINA – OUTER RIM – NIGHT  

WE OPEN on a cantina, on the planet, SELVERA, known for around the solar year brutal storms and endless oceans. The structure is precarious, built on wooden stilts in the middle of the sea. The walls shake and shudder with the waves.

The air is thick with saltwater and spice smoke. The room is dimly lit. Most of the tables are occupied.

The door flies open, banging the wall, and SEBASTIAN (20), smiling, steps in. His boots leave wet footprints as he walks up to the bar. Not even his scuffed hat could keep the rain off his face.

SEBASTIAN

Hearthbrew. Thank you.

JENSON (29), flashy, laughs from across the room. His blond hair is cut close to his skull.

JENSON

You even old enough to smell that, mate?

A few laugh around the room. Most don’t bother looking up from their drinks.

SEBASTIAN

We friends, mate?

JENSON

Hmm, don’t think so. I’d ask if you’d like to be but teenagers aren’t really our speed.

SEBASTIAN

(laughing)

I’m twenty!

LEWIS (24), steady, leans back in his chair. His arm brushes against JENSON’s. There is a long white scar curling around his left eye and down his cheek.

LEWIS

Jense. Leave him be.

JENSON settles, tipping SEBASTIAN a wink. The blasters on their hips are military grade. This does not escape SEBASTIAN’s notice. Nor do the matching prancing horse matches sewn on the upper arms of their damp coats.

SEBASTIAN takes his drink. It already begins to warm his fingers. He knows that horse. The entire galaxy knows that animal.

CUT TO:

INT. CANTINA - TIMESKIP – THREE HOURS

It is noticeably emptier. The storm is still raging outside. SEBASTIAN has finished his drink, and two others, along with a bowl of stew. He heads for the door.

JENSON

(waving a pack of battered cards)

Care for a game, mate?

SEBASTIAN turns back around. LEWIS says nothing, watching. The rings on his hands gleam with every flash of lightning.

SEBASTIAN

Just one.

JENSON

Of course, wouldn’t want you to miss your bedtime, now, would we?

LEWIS rolls his eyes, smiling. SEBASTIAN wonders what his laugh sounds like.

CUT TO:

EXT. SPACEPORT – BRAXIS – DUSK – FIFTEEN YEARS LATER

BRAXIS is a near barren planet, with rocky mountains and a surface burnt by long ago warfare. The local spaceport is an overcrowded sprawling complex, every terminal full with loading vessels and starships. Because of its position on the nebulous border between the INNER and OUTER RIM, it is commonly used by smugglers.

Alarms break through the night, followed quickly by shouting and yelling. Patrols of armed guards are seen running through the streets as a fire in the distance grows steadily. The dark sky stretches on.

CUT TO:

INT. SPACEPORT STORAGE ROOM – BRAXIS – DUSK

LEWIS, worn, frustrated, sits slumped on the floor, back to the wall. There is no longer a patch on the sleeve of his jacket. SEBASTIAN, older, frantic, is crouched by the door’s terminal, tapping at the screen.

SEBASTIAN

Fucking hate – what ever happened to normal locks, for the life of me, I don’t know –

LEWIS opens his eyes. He says nothing.

The terminal sparks warningly. SEBASTIAN flinches away and sighs. He sprawls against the opposite wall, needing a break. Silence hangs between them.

SEBASTIAN

I saw you out there, before – um. I saw you. You’re still flying that old ship of yours?

LEWIS

(shrugs)

BONO is reliable.

He does not need to say the words: unlike you.

SEBASTIAN

Yeah. Honestly, I didn’t expect to ever see you again. Let alone on Braxis of all places. Thought you were done with this life?

LEWIS

I was, yeah. I am. Still wanted though, aren’t I? Can’t do places that ask too many questions, or even ones that ask just the one. BONO needed some repairs that I had to dock her for, so. Here I am.

SEBASTIAN

Here you are.

LEWIS

No, just, no. Don’t start.

SEBASTIAN

I didn’t even say –

LEWIS

Don’t even try that – you know – just. Stop. I’m fine, okay? I am doing fine. I just want to be left alone, okay, so. Stop.

LEWIS sets his jaw. SEBASTIAN doesn’t let himself look away this time. He wants to bring up JENSON, who never would’ve left LEWIS alone. He also knows it would mean LEWIS would be lost to him forever.

SEBASTIAN

(soft)

I understand that, I do. And I didn’t mean to – I don’t mean to drag you back into anything. I, uh, I’d say ‘I promise’ but that’d require you trusting me and. Yeah. I know. I’m, I’m just sorry, Lewis. I’m sorry.

LEWIS’s eyes are dark.

LEWIS

(tired)

I know.

SEBASTIAN fidgets with the ends of his sleeves.

SEBASTIAN

You know, I’m thinking of maybe getting out of the game too.

LEWIS has an incredulous look on his face. He exaggerates looking around their cramped situation, alarms muffled but audible still ringing outside.

SEBASTIAN

I said I’m thinking about it!

LEWIS

Right. You’d be bored shitless, man.

SEBASTIAN

I would not.

LEWIS

I’d give you a month. Two max.

SEBASTIAN kicks LEWIS lightly in the foot.

SEBASTIAN

I’d give myself at least seven. It takes a while to set up a farm, you know.

LEWIS bursts out laughing. SEBASTIAN’s fingers are all warm and itchy. He feels fifteen years younger.

LEWIS

A farm?

SEBASTIAN

Well, I’ll need something to do, wouldn’t I? And I like animals.

LEWIS

��Mhmm, sure.

SEBASTIAN

I do!

The terminal hums suddenly, blinking green, and the door unlatches. LEWIS and SEBASTIAN sit very still, listening for the alarms outside that have fallen silent. They are left watching each other watch each other.

LEWIS

(getting to his feet)

See you around.

SEBASTIAN has never had to be the one watching LEWIS leave before.

SEBASTIAN

I miss you.

It isn’t a lie. It also isn’t fair. LEWIS lets SEBASTIAN get away with it. He always does.

LEWIS

Let me know how that farm of yours turn out. If you want.

SEBASTIAN

I will.

[killersfool]

I Want You | ELIJAH HEWSON

PAIRING : elijah hewson x original f!character

GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers

SUMMARY: dahlia jenkinson, josh’s sister is asked to fill in as photographer at his bad’s concert. her plan is to ask him out by the end of the show as she’s been crushing on him for ever. what she doesn’t expect is that one of their songs was written about her—and she’s right there when he confesses it.

WORDS: 5.6k

WARNINGS: smoking, drinking, kissing

Friday. Underground. London.

I run through the station passing the endless people, posters and children's screams. My brother, Josh, had asked me yesterday to help out at his band's concert. He'd told me that their photographer had gotten COVID so he needed someone to fill in.

I dragged my roommate along with me as my moral support, seeing as she's heard me spill every secret in my mind about the band's lead singer, Elijah.  I've been helping Josh with his band's endeavours for years and have also had to condone countless sleepovers. I've had the sound of drumsticks crashing together engrained in my head by this point. Robyn has always told me to 'stop being a pussy and ask Eli out on a date' but honestly, I'm terrified I'll ruin everything. This photography thing has really helped to get me new jobs and more exposure.

"So, you still crushing on Eli?" Robyn asks. She's been glancing over at my phone for the past few minutes. I've been texting the band group chat that I've been added to. They usually kick me out randomly. This is the longest period of time I've been in it without having an argument. I'm pretty proud.

"Shut up." I scoff. "If you dare say anything to any of of them, I will kill you."

"I wouldn't," she laughs. I give her a look. "I'll try not to..."

"You and your big mouth."

"I can't help it."

"I shouldn't tell you things."

"Who else would you tell?" She grabs at my phone, noticing a message from Elijah pop up.

It reads: "Missed you. You've always been the better Jenkinson." I try to contain my smile at the stupid message. It's just a couple words beneath a name on a screen and I'm getting all nervous. It's pathetic. God, this is getting bad.

"That's cute," Robyn says and is about to start writing a message back until I snatch my phone back. Who knows what kind of bullshit she'd start sending. She'd surely send some terrible pictures of me. That's happened on many ocassions. I've learnt my lesson to never trust her with my phone.

"Cringe." I type back, although the smile on my face is betraying the words on the screen. I stare at his profile picture for a few seconds. It's a selfie of me and the band. I look half asleep, probably drunk. Eli's hair is all over his face and Josh is squeezing Ryan's cheeks. Bobby is just angrily staring at the camera. He definitely didn't want to be in that photo. It's sweet that Eli has kept his profile picture that way for so long. We haven't seen each other in months. I send another message, "Well you're not my favourite Hewson."

He sends an angry emoji. "Who is then?"

"Bono, course."

He sends a few more angry emojis before spamming the group chat. There is already some kind of argument happening. Robert seems to be late and they're all asking where he is. I switch my phone off, sliding it into my pocket. Robyn's been unusually quiet.

"What have you done this time?" I ask with a subtle tilt of my head. She's chewing on some haribos she'd bought moments ago. She then smirks to herself, "Nothing."

I'm a little worried but decide to brush it off. We leave the train station and I'm struck by the freezing air. I sometimes forget how cold England is. Having moved from Ireland over a year ago, I feel like I should've acclimatised. But, why is it always so cold? I hold my jacket closer to myself to try to warm up.

We pass at least ten people with 'I love London' shirts. Sounds of street sellers are familiar along with the hustle and bustle of late London nights. I see the London Eye twisting in the distance. Big ben is tolling. The venue comes into view a few streets away. I'm dreading it slightly. I feel as if I'm not going to cope this time seeing that ever-so-familiar face. It's as if with each passing month, he gets better looking. It should be crime. I'll probably melt when I see him.

I instead focus on seeing Josh and my excitement for seeing the gig. They've all really improved over the years. They really know how to put on a good show. Adrenaline rushes through my veins. It'll be fine. Surely.

"You're nervous, aren't you?" Robyn takes notice of me fiddling with my earrings. It's become some nervous habit. I find a comfort in twiddling the crystals between my fingers.

"A bit," I say. Honest. "What if he finds out? We'll surely get piss-drunk. What if he only wants to be mates?"

"Lia, darling, you've got to stop overthinking it. After hearing all these stories you've told me, it sounds like he likes you a lot," she says, grinning. "I'll tell you if I see any looks passed or anything suspicious, okay?"

"You're the best." I give her a hug, forgetting for a moment about the crowded streets around us. Robyn hugs are always too good to be true. I sometimes forget how unbelievably short she is and how she tries to suffocate me with her arms.

Just as we're about to continue down the endless streets, I see someone running past us. I barely even realise he's passed me until Robyn points him out. I see long, curly hair and a massive case swung over his shoulder. Bobby. Then, he turns to face us. Blue eyes catch me off guard then a massive grin. He seems to question whether he should stop or get to the venue. He's very late.

"Is that the bassist?" Robyn wonders. "Robert?"

"That's me," he says, retracing his steps. His mullet has gone all messy in the autumn wind. He's trying to swipe away a few stray hairs from out of his face. "Hey Dally. Who's this?" He points towards my friend with a lazy smile.

"This is Robyn. My roommate. She's the one who accidentally stepped on a pigeon."

"Ah." He then turns into his bird lover mode. "How could you do that to a poor, helpless bird? How could you? Can't believe you're called Robyn. That's a disgrace. Wish I was called Robyn. Or sparrow. Or some kind of bird. God, do I love birds—"

"Okay, Robert. We get it," I interrupt with a finger in the air. He crosses his arms over his chest, pouting. Robyn is laughing at his angered demeanour. He always puts on this irritated-sarcastic face in moments like this. He looks like a child after stepping on lego.

"Aren't you late?" Robyn asks the blue-eyed boy. His phone has been pinging with notification throughout the few minutes they have been walking together. He seems to be a little stressed. I have to almost run to keep up with this speed of impossibly long legs.

We approach the venue. It's a huge, pretty rundown building which strikes out in stark contrast to the fancy buildings around it. The words 'Inhaler:tonight' are written on a chalkboard beside the entrance. The place really matches the band for some reason. There's a queue of fans outside. A lot of them are sat down on the pavement. They scream at the sight of the bassist, piling around him. Phones are being held up to take pictures of him.

"Sorry guys, I've got to get inside. Thank you for coming," Robert mumbles.

Robyn and I act as body guards, preventing anyone from getting too close. Banners have been dropped onto the ground, passersby glance over in confusion. There's colourful cowboy hats covered with jewels everywhere. That music video really drove the world crazy. It definitely drove me crazy. I probably make up at least half of the views.

The majority of the crowd continue to take photos. Some say 'Oh my God, that's Josh's sister!' I give them a smile whilst simultaneously pushing Robert forwards.

We finally get to the back door. The gathering give up after a while. They go back to the queue, attempting to slot in to their previous place.

"Well, doors haven't opened yet so you can't be that late," I remark. The front doors are still locked.

"I'm missing sound check though."

I hear music booming quietly through the walls. I open the door, pressing down on it with fingertips. It creaks open to a long corridor with white plastered walls. It smells of fresh paint. The light is barely even attached to the ceiling. It looks like some horror film scene. Creepy.

But then Josh comes around the corner. His guitar is slung over his chest and his face lights up to reveal a huge smile that I've always adored. He's taller than the last time I've seen him. He runs straight towards me, engulfing me with his arms. I'm uncomfortably pressed against his guitar but I couldn't care less. I'm so glad I came. I missed him so much.

Robert slides past us and Robyn awkwardly stands in the doorway. I introduce her to my brother. He gives her a hug as well. She seems to enjoy this whole situation a lot. She's getting all loud and giddy.

The rest of the band are still playing through songs. They're running through 'Dublin In Ecstasy'. Elijah's voice is echoing through the entire building, sliding it's way through my skull. There's a part of me that wants to turn back. I could just make my way back to my apartment, have a cup of coffee and stalk Twitter accounts of people who went to the show. I definitely haven't been doing that for the past few months. I'm not that insane. Or obsessed.

"Do you want to listen to sound check or hang out back stage?" Josh asks us. He's been talking to Robyn, getting to know her and she seems to like him, thankfully. It'd be downright awkward if she hated his guts.

"I'll follow you," Robyn says to Josh. She starts to traipse down the corridor. I watch her curls bounce from side to side as she jumps with every step. She suddenly realises that she's left me behind. "You coming?"

I groan, staring at the door. "Yeah. Fuck it."

I pick up my camera in preparation. I've been using the same one for years. It's got stickers all over it. Some of random bands, some from different countries and little letters spelling out my name. Elijah had bought me a few pages of letters of the alphabet as a birthday present when I turned 15. I still remember that day. We were all huddled inside my living room after being drenched by a sudden storm. There were about fifteen of us, including the band. The fireplace before us was the only source of light in the darkened room. I think I was dating Ryan at that point. That was a strange time. He was sweet. It only lasted a couple of weeks. Elijah had a girlfriend too. Younger me was very jealous. I think that's what made me realise I liked him.

Now, fast forward eight years and my heart is beating in my ears like I'm a teenager all over again.

I allow Robyn to go first. I trail behind. Josh has left us to our own devices and we try to figure out where exactly we're supposed to go. We decide to follow the sounds of music booming. Closer and closer. We go down a staircase, open a door then we're right at the stalls, just beneath the stage. The door crashes so loudly that all of the band stop playing. They all peer down at us.

The band name 'Inhaler' is upon the wall and coloured lights paint the stage. This room is a lot nicer than the exterior. There's a standing area then seats up along the top. The walls are painted a deep shade of crimson with gold lines intricately painted everywhere. It's too good to be true. It feels so weird being at one of their gigs again. It feels even weirder to see all of them in the same place at the same time.

I trace my gaze along the stage. I take a quick glance at Josh who is tuning his guitar, then Ryan who's staring at us with wide eyes. I shift my eyes a little further to see Elijah. He's dropped his mic at the sight of us. I take notice of the length of his hair. It's falling over his eyes, a mess of curls shrouding his face. He's wearing a white vest top and a bulky blazer which is holding onto his shoulders for dear life. I can't see him very well from here. What I can see is the complexity of his gaze. The way he's looking at me is making me nervous. I take a deep breath.

"Dahlia?!" Ryan calls out. He drops his drumsticks similarly to Elijah.

"Surprise?" I say. I thought Josh had told them I was coming. "Wait, did Josh not tell you?"

Elijah picks up the microphone from the ground, not taking his eyes away from mine. "Josh, you gobshite. I thought she was coming next week," he says into the mic, words jumping through my ears. I hate how warm his voice is through those speakers. It's sickening.

"Well, I'm not complaining." Ryan jumps down from the stage, giving me and Robyn a hug. It's a group hug where we're all squashed together. He's grinning from ear to ear.

"You're still short," I say. I can still look down on him, especially with my chunky boots. He rolls his eyes.  "This is Robyn." I introduce my roommate to both Ryan and Elijah.

"Nice to meet you," Elijah murmurs as he jumps off the stage. He's left the mic on the stand. He's pushing his hair from his face.

Robyn gives me a look, raising an eyebrow in the direction of Elijah. She's got a malevolent smile. What's she going to do? Maybe I shouldn't have brought her.

"I've heard all about you." Robyn gives Elijah a little wink. I kick the back of her leg .

His lip raises the slightest bit. I find myself staring at his mouth for far too long. There's stubble lining his chin and a splatter of freckles on his cheeks. "Have you, now?" His low voice drifts through the air. He's maintaining eye contact with me. I'm trying to evade his gaze.

"She's exaggerating." I assure him, trying to stop myself from giving Robyn another thwack.

"Eli! We have like 5 minutes until door opens and Dublin In Ecstasy is a mess. Get up here. You can swoon later." Robert is already playing the introduction to the song. Ryan and Josh join in.

"Swoon?" Eli shakes his head with a grin.

"We're just that amazing," Robyn whispers to me.

I hold up my camera, taking a picture of the three lads on stage. Then I point it at Elijah. I take a few of his confused face before he leaves us to sing along to the music.

"He's whipped." Robyn watches as he climbs back onto the stage. "Likes you so much he can barely even function-" She points out how he can't even plug his guitar in. He's been trying to shove the lead in for a while but his eyes are wandering elsewhere. "You've got to say something to him. He's leaving tomorrow, isn't he? Maybe tonight.."

I breathe in. "Alright. I'll try."

Robyn and I hum along to the tune. Elijah's rough vocals make my mind go cloudy. He sounds so much crisper in person. I think back to the cuts and bruises vinyl on my shelf. Robyn had bought it the day it came out. Josh sent me every version possible. Robyn went on about supposedly being 'the first person in the world who bought it'. She said she saw the record in HMV and instantly thought of me. We had stayed up late that night to listen through each track. Eating popcorn, drinking alcohol, talking about random shit. That was when I told her everything about Elijah. From the schoolgirl crush, to the trying to forget him then to the full-blown infatuation. She enjoyed listening to every detail I had to offer.

Elijah continues singing. I'm holding my breath, my palms are sweaty, I feel my heart pulsing at my throat. Robyn is swaying to each beat of the drums. Elijah won't stop looking at me.

Then the song ends and we all tun backstage, in an attempt to evade the incoming fans. I hear shouts echoing in the distance. We've gathered in a little room backstage. Josh is showing me some fancy chocolates he bought in Rome. I'm taking pictures of the band members. Robyn keeps photobombing. I rest my head upon the armrest of the sofa, closing my eyes. It feels nice. Calm. Until, someone settles beside me. They grab my legs so that they can properly sit down. The hands are cold and fingertips are calloused. That someone is Elijah. "Excited for the show?"

He's got his pre-show drink in one hand and his phone in the other. I close my eyes once again.

I shift around in the soft cushion attempting to get into a more comfortable position. He scoffs and pulls my legs up by the ankles to rest them over his thighs. "I know you're tired," he says. He takes a sip of his drink. "But if you dare fall asleep during the show, I will throw my guitar at you." I move my legs around his thighs then actually raise my head to look at him. I take a picture as he makes a stupid face. I don't know how he can do that whilst still looking pretty.

"Is this comfortable?" I ask. He's been very still. "I can move if you want."

"It's nice... fine," he mumbles as he scrolls through messages on his phone. "Reminds of that music lesson. Must've been our first year of secondary school. You fainted after some practice test we did. We were sat in this exact position for at least an hour. I think my legs stopped working."

I try to bring my head back to the memory. He was so different back then. Shorter hair, insanely asthmatic. He only knew me as Josh's twin sister. Somehow that was enough for him to stay there with me and keep me safe. After that, he had some complex where had to look after me with his life. It was charming.

"I had to kick you about nine time because you feel asleep, " I recall. My mind is wandering through moments I can barely even remember. "You were so strange."

"I could've left you there in the practice asleep. You should be thanking me for saving you from embarassment-"

"Why, thank you. Oh how you've changed my entire life. I owe you all that I have."

He shakes his head, squeezing the skin at the bottom of my ankle. He then rests his hand there. As if it's normal. He's still reading through messages, biting the top of the plastic cup.

"When do you lot go on then?" I ask everyone.

Robyn has started drawing eyeliner onto the other boys. She just pulled it out of her pocket randomly and asked if they wanted her to do it. They've filed into a queue. She's done some graphic liner on Bobby with little stars that makes his bright eyes pop out all the more.

"Ten minutes." Ryan is putting some hair gel through his hair. He puts some music on using a bluetooth speaker they placed in the corner. Lover, You Should've Come Over by Jeff Buckley comes on. I'm trying to stop myself from falling asleep but it's getting harder with each passing second.

"I'm so excited," Robyn says as she does Josh's eyeliner. She's made his more smudgy and messy. It suits him a lot.  "Elijah, should I do yours? Or Dahlia can do it?" She passes the tube towards me. There's some malicious intent behind her eyes. I narrow my eyes down to the black contraption, taking it uneasily between my fingers.

He lays down his phone and drink. He's trying to push all the hair out of his face to give me some access to his eyes. I kneel down on the sofa beside him. I grab a hair bobble from my wrist then tie the top half of his hair up. He groans as I pull some strands way too hard then relaxes into my touch. He smells like cigarette smoke and cologne.

"How should I do it?" I wonder out loud. I've opened the tube and I'm trying to figure out the best way to go about this. He looks like his teenage self with his hair like this. His eyes are maintaining a hard eye contact as I near him. There's a warmth rising to my face.

Robyn pulls out her phone and shows me a picture of Rodrick Hefley. I snort. "Try it like that," she says.

Elijah closes his eyes as I begin to draw little lines then smudge. I've grabbed his chin to keep him in place. I can feel the sharp stubble poking at my fingers. He opens his eyes every now and then. They're half-lidded, watching. I poke his eye by accident. I scold him for opening his eyes. He decided to instead keep them closed.

I admire my work once I've done. It's not my best liner but it's alright. The other boys gather around to get a look at him. His hazel eyes come into view and he smiles widely at the sight of us all. "Does it look good?"

"Looks class," Ryan says as he grabs a mirror. The other boys nod along.

Elijah looks at himself. He seems to not know if he likes it or not. He smiles at me and says, "Thanks, love."

I just smile back, pulling out the bobble from his hair. An unruly splatter of curls cascade across his forehead. There's something about him wearing eyeliner that's stopping me from thinking straight. It's different. I'm still sat half on top of him, one knee resting on his thigh and the other on the sofa. He helps me off of him then stands up.

He ruffles his hair as he says, "Let's get going lads."

The four boys grab everything they need for the show. Water bottles, instruments, drumsticks, their sanity. They all give each other a group hug. It must be some pre-show ritual because they all down their drinks at the exact same time. If that wasn't planned, it was uncanny.

"Good luck." I wave them off and they travel down the corridor in a straight line. As each of them walk out, I take a picture. Elijah is the last to leave. He stops in the doorway, still holding his plastic cup. He raises his lip to reveal his white teeth as I take the picture. He really enjoys making the strangest faces.

"If you don't get our best angles, I'll have to think about firing you." Elijah warns me just before he turns around. He then disappears down to another asylum-like corridor before I can get a chance to insult him. I let out a breath.

"That went well, right?" Robyn's trying to figure out what's going through my head. I can't even comprehend anything that just happened. The feel of his hand still lingers at my ankle. "That whole time you were talking to Josh about those chocolates, he was staring you down. It was pretty creepy, to be honest." She laughs. "Don't even get me started on the eyeliner. All of us felt like total third wheels."

"Sorry," I say. I play around with the bobble at my wrist. It had been wrapped around those glorious curls only moments ago. "God, I'm so in love it hurts."

"That's how I felt when I started liking Emmy. Literally all I could think about was her." Robyn is in a daze, eyes glued to the wall. "You need to do something before it's too late."

"After the set, I will tell him." I finally accept my fate. I could possibly not see him until next year. Or the year after. Who knows how busy I could get?

"Good," Robyn says. "I'm tired of hearing Elijah this Elijah that. Girl, I get it."

"You had an Emmy this Emmy that phase. Don't even start."

She frustratedly sighs. "Come on. I think they're going on."

I hear the crashing of drums reverberating through every wall, every floorboard. Slowly, we approach the main room. The bodyguard lets us through to the wings of the stage. I can see all the crowd from this angle. There are phones, cowboy hats and banners littered through the crowd. Some of the audience are people we had seen when Bobby was surrounded. They're screaming at the sight of the band.

The first song they play is These Are The Days. I keep my camera handy through every song. Elijah takes notice of us standing there. He steals a glance at us when he has a chance to breath. He's singing a lot stronger than I'd ever seen online.

Then they play through a few more songs on the new album. I sing along, I dance, I try not to get blinded by the flashing lights. Then all of a sudden they've finished playing Love Will Get You There and he turns to look right at me.

"This next song..." His words are pretty slurred. He's drunk. "This is an old one. I wrote this when I was about 17. There was this girl at my school who I just liked so much— I couldn't even focus in class. I played it to her once we'd got it perfect and she had not a single clue that it was about her. She still doesn't. It's been six years and I've never told her." He pauses and looks at me. "This is for you."

I'm overwhelmed by emotion. I raise an eyebrow at him. He just starts strumming along with his guitar. That's when I realise he's playing I Want You. They'd played that song to me in Elijah's garage. I asked him who it was about. He lied and said it was about his ex-girlfriend. I never thought twice about it. I never listened to it because it made me sick to my stomach that it was about her. A girl who I had been so jealous of.

"You got your lipstick on..." He starts singing. He's literally pointing at me. The crowd looks confused. They can't see me.

"Oh, Jesus," Robyn exclaims. "Oh, wow. I can't believe this. He's fucking confessing! Dally, I'm so happy for you right now. What the hell!"

Robyn is just as shocked as I am. We're both slack-jawed, wide-eyed yet caught in a silence as the song goes on. The crowd sings along with each and every line. The other members of the band have caught on with what is happening. They all seem to be pretty proud. Especially Josh. He's smiling so big it's making me smile too.

The truth is, I don't want the song to end. Or the show. I just want this moment to drag on forever. It all feels too good to be true.

The song finishes, the lights switch off, the crowd screams. I'm left in the darkness. Robyn is holding onto my side for dear life. The only thing illuminating the world around us is a tiny light bulb above us. My eyes start to get used to the darkness. I see a figure approaching.

"Can you come with me?" It's Elijah. His cheeks are tinged a shade of bright red. There's sweat lining his throat and his chest. He's taken off the blazer and has slung it over his shoulder. The eyeliner has bled down a little.

"Yeah..." I'm exasperated. My throat is raw from singing so much. My brain can barely process what is happening around me. My hands want to reach out and hold him close to me.

He grabs my hand, pulling me down through a corridor. We're both running towards the back door. I'm trying to match his pace but his longer legs give him an unfair advantage.

We finally reach the exit. He opens the door for me, allows me to pass through then shuts it. I'm met by London streets. Brick walls, crooked alleyways, a rubbish bin. It's not particularly romantic. But, with him standing there in front of me, it becomes the most romantic place on Earth.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like that," he admits. "I just couldn't stop thinking about you when you left. I was going to tell you at the airport when you were about to leave Dublin. So that you could think it through without us seeing each other every day. Then I got fucking terrified."

"I was going to tell you then too." I press my back against the wall. He's pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He offers me one. I let it rest between my lips. "I had plucked up some courage after I went to the toilet but then I sat beside you and forgot the whole script I'd planned out in my head. That was a pretty awkward five minutes. Felt like a century."

"We're idiots, aren't we?" He says as he lights his cigarette. "Josh has always known. I don't know how he never told you. He's great at keeping secrets. Six years of keeping his mouth shut. I don't know how he has that much self control."

"Six years?" I blow out a puff of smoke into the air. My eyes wander across the star covered sky. The moon is looming and watching us.

"I know." He's blushing again. He's trying to keep his distance from me, leaving a slight gap between us. "I'm pathetic."

"I liked you for longer."

"What?"

"Eight years. Since the day you started dating the blonde girl." I feel stupid saying it out loud. He's laughing at me.

"That's class."

We stand there in silence just looking at each other. I can hear ambulance sirens and birds calling. The brick walls is hard against my back. My shoes are covered in water from standing in a puddle. I can imagine that there's a camera above us. This could be a scene straight out of a film.

"Are you going to kiss me then?" Some sudden burst of confidence brings those words from my lips.

He's taken aback. His eyes fall down to my mouth. He then takes a step closer. I can feel his breath at my cheeks.

"Do you want me to?" His voice goes all low and his accent gets thicker. His hand reaches up to cup my cheek. Metal presses against my cheekbone. His thumb lazily draws a line across my bottom lip. His words hang in the air. "Dahlia, my love. Do you—"

I press my lips to his. I can't hold back anymore. I can taste the smoke on his tongue. His mouth is minty and his lips are soft. I've imagined this moment countless times. In a bookstore, in a train station, in the garage. But, this is perfect. Perfect.

My fingers sink into his hair. He groans into my mouth as I pull a few strands at the back. His thumb is sliding across my cheekbones. He's dropped the cigarette to instead use his other hand to clutch my waist. My hands are at his chest. His heart is beating incredibly fast. He holds me tight against him until I feel his chest rise and fall. Up and down. Breathing in and out.

We hear voices behind us. He pulls away quickly. We both turn to see a group of fans. They're teenagers and they're all dressed in bright outfits. They didn't see anything but they seem rather suspicious, whispering.

"Eli! Oh my God!! Can you take my BeReal please?" One of them shouts over.

Elijah runs his fingers over his lips. His ears are a pink shade. He slides his hand away from my waist.

"Yeah, sure!" He approaches the three girls with a small smile. He's trying to act normal. "I love your hats." He points at the 3 cowboy hats which spell out the word 'Inhaler' when they're all stood side-by-side.

"Thank you so much!" The darker haired girl passes him her phone. "Your eyeliner looks so good. You should do it like that more often."

"I had a grand makeup artist." He winks. I roll my eyes.

"Could Dahlia be in it?" The girl with glasses notices how I've awkwardly shifted to the side.

"Course she can," Elijah says.

I stand in the frame next to Elijah as he holds up the phone. His lips are red after being stained by my lipstick. I drop my head onto his shoulder and close my eyes. He nestles his face into my hair as he takes the picture. We're both giggling like lunatics.

I'm so glad it happened like this.

[octuscle]

As a lawyer I'm on the way to some young criminals as new clients doing some pro bono jobs but my luggage got lost. There's just a suitcase from MIA

I think this is really absolutely great of you. But defense lawyers are famous for their generosity. So it's a pleasure for me to let you have the suitcase. Is it okay if I have it delivered directly to your hotel room? That makes it easier for you in case of doubt.

You're sitting in your room at the Holiday Inn at the airport. If your life plan had worked out, you wouldn't have to work at all at the age of 36. Or you should at least stay at the Grand Hyatt. But in that case, you don't get any money. You can only hope that your calculations will work out and that you will get the two gangsters off. Then your market value should increase considerably. And Holiday Inn will never see you again. The phone rings and someone at the front desk tells you that your luggage has arrived. That's right, the suitcase! You get up, panting. You could have taken the stairs down one floor to the lobby. But you're in a bit of bad shape. Poor diet, little exercise. Have you ever wondered if your appearance has something to do with your professional success?

The suitcase is at least a major hit. A metal suitcase like that must cost over $1,000. And this one is brand new, too. Conveniently, the combination lock is also still factory set to 000. You take the elevator to your room, heave the heavy piece onto your bed and open it. Your hope for an impressive black suit is not fulfilled. But the leather jacket is also impressive. Unfortunately, you have no chance to close the zipper over your paunch. Therefore, you don't even need to try the jeans. But the undershirt should fit somehow. Sure, you can see every roll of flab. But they are always better than the gray, worn-out ones you have.

You go out into the hallway and get a cold beer from the vending machine. Your reflection in the mirror reminds you a bit of Marlon Brando in The Godfather. Unfortunately, the older Marlon Brando… With the beer on the nightstand, you fall asleep. And you have a wet dream about Marlon Brando.

At 07:00 o'clock there is a discreet knock on the door of your room. A bellboy pushes the breakfast cart into the dining room of your suite at the Four Seasons in Down Town. You open the curtains with the iPad on your nightstand, stand up, and hand the bellman a $100 bill. You don't care if he's more excited about it than about seeing the promising new star criminal defense attorney naked. Not before the cappucino and the freshly squeezed orange juice. For the press and also for all the other participants, you are doing the job here pro bono. Because you are shocked at how the American legal system sends people to jail just because of prejudice against disadvantaged immigrants. No one really needs to know that it's not just your lavish expenses that are being paid by the Kazakh oligarch whose two doltish nephews were somewhat unfortunate enough to have shot their way out of a failed business deal. If the nephews' buddies, who are now sitting in the dock for the two idiots, are not acquitted, your client won't care either. You would regret that for a few minutes because of your ego. And then console yourself with two or three weeks on the Cote d'Azur. You may use the house of your client in Antibes. He is never there anyway.

While you congratulate yourself once again on having studied Russian and Kazakh as well as law, you stand in front of the closet and think about what to wear to your get-to-know-your-client visit. Yes, you look great in Brioni. But you feel more comfortable in other clothes. In the ensemble you choose, you look a bit like the young Marlon Brando in "The Wild One," you think.

Maybe your clients will be more open-minded if you look like one of them. But who are you kidding. You look better than anyone!

[thisismeracing]

more bono!reader thots!!

miss bono!reader has pretty much grown up in merc merch. she just got the smallest sizes of whatever teamwear her dad got each year and even though the shirts were basically dresses and the hats covered her face, she loved every piece because she was a part of the team. she never wanted them to order kids sizes for her and once she grew up more, she refused the “special” women’s gear because it just never felt right, she was just one of the boys in the garage. they knew which jackets were hers when she inventively got hot, took it off, and left it somewhere (including in other team’s garages when she was visiting) because her stickers were always in the pockets.

now that she’s come even more into her own, she’s learned how to style the boxy shirts and large caps to fit with the rest of her outfit and personal style. the real master of tucked in tops and hairstyles that look good with hats. the fashion instagrams love her, of course.

living with mick just means twice as much team gear and more often than not, she’ll end up wearing his jackets and hoodies because they’re big, comfy, and smell like him. at this point, no one in the garage even bats an eye when she has “mick” on her shirt.

and during the race, she always wears his warmup jacket (and ties it around her waist when it’s too hot) to go with his necklace and all of the sentimental jewelry she wears.

-🎩

I think her and lew went through that fashion phase, or rather started said phase, together. it was def something that brought them closer (besides bono himself).

now, older and dating mick bb def takes his clothes. like 100% and he loves to see it. these two share everything, from their hearts to their clothes :')

[eurekavalley]

I'm still thinking about Jimmy and his three suit jackets in the mirror in 6x01. We have the past (his ill-fitting, sad brown S1 suit), the present (the jacket with the little boxes that matches Kim's outfit that he'll wear that day), and the future (the shiny Saul Goodman suit that we eventually see him wear to testify in federal court in the finale).

Seeing Jimmy pick among these suits for Kim's client could be too heavy-handed or too meta, but fashion is so important to him and his character that it feels like an appropriate crossroads to find him at. The past and the future are so tangible, he can touch them and make choices about them, let go of them when he is ready and put them back to hang in his closet when he is not.

Some Reddit comments point out how similar the silver jacket is to the shiny metallic suits that the Salamanca twins wear - in the same episode, one of their jackets is laid respectfully over one of the burned dead bodies as a shroud. But what really stands out over the course of the season is the connection to Kim's shiny silver d-day blouse.

This is Kim at her girlbossiest, making the worst decisions with the most confidence, getting high off the results. This is where they were so beautifully in sync they could have read each other's minds, and where they destroyed their lives, and they did it together. Kim was wearing it when they probably last had sex. (I'm going back and forth on this because they could have had some traumatized sex after Howard's death - but with the scam being such a sexual thrill for Kim in particular I'm thinking that the trauma shut that down for her.) The blouse is shiny, bold, and flamboyant, but still has a certain kind of neutrality. It's a blank screen for the red light of criminality and treachery of the show's color code to project onto, in the dark room scenes.

Jimmy's court outfit is kind of wild on the face of it, more unhinged than most of his Saul persona outfits, especially in the behind the scenes pictures where you can see the red shirt underneath the shiny silver blazer. The cartel layer to the jacket is absolutely there - even though he spent the last six months hiding like a prey animal, Jimmy is the last player standing in the game and he has a certain kind of pride in that. But it's a callback to those memories of Kim as much as his finger guns are - I remember us and how we got here. It shows what we all know - that when he walked into the courtroom, he was focused with one intent in his mind. And knowing Jimmy and the way he takes every little comment to heart (how I relate to that!), Kim's casual assessment of the silver jacket in 2004 while she was on the phone, that it was "too nice" for court for her pro bono client to borrow, must still be lodged somewhere in his brain. Kim liked it once.

Anyway... the attention to detail is incredible.

[clov3sr]

Painkiller | Jude Bellingham

♡ — pairing(s): Jude Bellingham x reader

♢ — author annotations: paqueta y bono mis amores you're not safe either,,, we ride at dawn

♤ — c/t w(s): reader is implied to be in school

♧ — synopsis: How could you ever complain about being tired when your boyfriend is a world renowned professional athlete?

♫ — music inspo.: PAINKILLER by RUEL

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 1:38 ───ㅇ───── 3:33

Jude will never be ashamed to admit he's not the smartest. Even when his teams joke with him about it, as often as he manages to dodge Saka and his Tiktoks, he doesn't excuse himself or shy away; no, it's an invitation. The opportunity blossoms at his feet, and he takes any chance he can. Without fail, he'll retort, "I don't even need to be smart, I have y/n," and it's that same golden opportunity that, without fail, he twists into bragging — "y/n actually just passed this exam," or, "you know, y/n knows how to do that niche skill,"

No, Jude isn't the most academically predisposed, but what he does know inside out is you; so when he hears the door open and shut, the subsequent shuffling of your things, and the lack of your adorable exclamation that you're here, his instinct is to pause his Netflix show immediately.

He peeks his head out of the room with an inquisitive call of your name, but for naught as he spots you immediately. Youre in the midst of putting your bags down, and just begin taking your jacket off when he approaches you.

"Hi, love," he's gentle with his tone and volume, testing the waters and you're keen to it. You've told him before how relieving it is for you not to have to pretend around him, and he's dedicated to maintaining that dynamic, "how was your day?"

You sigh, like you're trying to expel all the negativity before you somehow breathe it unto him accidentally. He notices.

"It was fine. Like any other day."

Jude's not going to accept that answer and you know that by the way his eyebrows furrow momentarily and he moves to embrace you. His hands start at your shoulders, delivering a comforting squeeze before they slide down to hold your hands. You sigh again; it's so hard to be upset when you get to come home to Jude, a rare occurrence recently. You'll manage to, though.

"Are you sure, lovely? You know I'm here for you."

You hum, leaning to rest your head on his chest. "You're Jude Bellingham. I think I'll get over my silly little issues."

"What's that mean?"

The speed at which he replies throws you off. Genuine confusion is laced into his words, and slight offense almost accompanies. It wasn't a complete joke, you admit, but you phrased it as light-hearted as possible, you'd thought.

"I just mean," you trail off for a moment, shrugging nonchalantly to try and ease him, "You deal with the stress of the entire world watching you, and the physical strain you go through is unimaginable, Ju. I don't have to insult you by whining about my everyday shit."

His silence alarms you. For a beat too long, he's just staring, eyebrows still furrowed in deep thought. Maybe you'd already offended him? Had your uncharacteristically monotone entrance annoyed him?

You only get so far down the list of anxieties and what-ifs before your train of thought is halted. Jude removes his hands from yours, instead cupping your face and raising your head gently to face him instead of his chest.

“Y/n I'm going to marry you, do you know that?”

It takes the atmosphere a second for his earnestness to settle. He's serious, and the idea of Jude already planning a future with you makes your heart skip and your chest ache. If you even knew how to respond, you know you can't physically get any words out. Your mouth opens momentarily and closes again in defeat.

“I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life as your lover. And I know you're going to continue to support me,” he gingerly kisses your left cheek, “no matter what,” and then the right, “and I'm going to support you.” He moves up to your forehead, inhaling fondly as if savoring the moment. You are as well. Finally, he kisses it and lets his lips linger. Once more, he brings your head up to face his.

“I love you, and your problems are never going to be less important than mine, darling.”

“I don't deserve you, Ju.”

He wants to argue that, and normally he would – you know he would – but he instead chooses to take advantage of your cracked defenses.

“How was your day, lovely?”

♢ — author postnote (s): dude this is so filthy sweet I legit don't even wanna read it again to edit it like. I started this last night when I got home from work and, clov3 fun fact: clov3 is NOT an emotional person at all like. bro bye. don't even like this fr.

[mysteriouslyjovialcolor]

Brazil 2016

-safety car start?

-water spray is cool

-Max is HIM

-him terrorizing Nico is my personal favorite form of entertainment

-how does one drive like this? that’s crazy

-McLaren car looks really cool

-oh no Sebbb

-seriously you can barely see the cars with this water

-where did Ocon come from fr? Wasn’t there another Esteban on the grid in Spain??

-damn not this guy blocking the pit entry

-damn he actually hit the wall

-if Max got a penalty for this I will scream

-genuinely need to know what inters do

-okayyy Checo! that was actually pretty cool recovery

-shit, Kimi is out

-wow is this how races used to be, with safety car after safety car?

-oh they’re all out of the cars? fun

-this is actually my first time watching a red flag

-not that the crash was fun, but this after stuff is interesting

-lol they’re such gossips

-aww my Spanish speaking men

-young Bono?!

-them using Lenovo laptops on chairs like they’re in an office is so bizarre

-I love baby maxplaining

-Daniellll 😭😭 (I miss him in Red Bull)

-safety car used to slay, what happened

-aww Kevinnn

-Lewis giving that lady a jacket: cute

-as a spectator , this part must have been so boring

-they’re finally back in the carsss

-they’re backkkk

-as cool as racing in the rain looks, it doesn’t feel very productive

-can you pit under safety car? god I sound stupid, someone teach me about tires

-half of this race was under safety car

-how did he go from “young Max” to “mad Max” in a span of a few years

-red flag?? again?? why??

-menace Max is my favorite Max

-I’m still confused about the red flag

-anddd they’re back in the pit lane

-I feel those people in the stands, I wouldn’t leave tho, I mean after paying that much

-“why are we stopping” indeed

-Nico is such a diva

-ohmygod baby Charlessssssss

-this is becoming a little boring and chaotic

-man I’m falling asleep (just now realizing I have the power to fast forward this, but I’m going to soldier on and experience this like it’s live)

-watching them talk about the rain for so long made me completely disassociate to the point where I forgot that the sun is actually out right now where I live

-the only exciting part of this race was Max overtaking Kimi

-please let them race already

-imagine just getting in and getting out while being sweaty and wet, I feel for these drivers

-“hurt or killed” honestly forget the risks these people take sometimes

-GIVE NICO.H A PODIUM

-are we still under safety car??

-Verstappen really be Roseberg’s sleep paralysis demon

-WE’RE GOING RACING!

-MAXXXXXX

“You’re going there, I’ll just go somewhere else then”

-aww they called him Maxyyy

-Daniel too!! Wohoo!!

-“it’s the red bulls that are making all the noise there”, that’s so true cause the whole race aside from this was boring

-let’s go Vettel!!

-I really like these McLaren cars

-Max Max Max

-future haasband’s fighting

-MAX!!!!!!!

-“save of the century”

that was so close!

-“Schumacher-esque” hell yeah

-oh? Esteban Gutierrez is still there?

-yayyy Seb!!

-hehe “moderately rude”

-did I mention the McLaren looks really cool?

-I’m sensing the Brocedes team drama here

-“Verstappen is the danger man to the Mercedes team” the foreshadowingggg

-I don’t like how they display the positions on the screen

-also “Ves”?

-ohmygod the fricking safety car is back

-poor guy, last home race (don’t really know him)

-just googled him: okayy 11 wins

-okay this do be sad, people are crying, oh no he’s crying, now I’m sad

-oh shit he got the “guard of honor”

-“all the agony is going to be washed away with this embrace” that’s really sweet

-ohmygod this is actually really sweet

-hope you’re well Massa ❤️

-this race is officially the most confusing one I’ve seen

-ohmygod from 16th???

-what is happening?!????

-LH really led the race from start to finish

-if Max makes it to points now I’m really impressed

-OHMYGOD someone’s off the road again!!!!!

-woah he’s up to p12

-yeah Max let’s go!

-he’s almost back in the points

-“Sebastian Vettel still can’t get past Carlos Sainz”

-YESS MAXX

“He’s finding grip where no one else is”

-okay it got interesting again

-he’s p9!!

-P8!

-yay Dannyyy

-p7!!!!

-“textbook lesson of how to drive in the rain” !!!

-yay Dannyyy pt2

-yay Dannyyy pt3

-woah Gutierrez is actually cute

-Carlos is so underrated rn

-Verstappen the man that you are!

-this is so cooool

-yessss

-nooooo

-but that was awesome!

-wheel to wheel!!

-damn Max

-holy shit he’s at p4 wth

-no way he makes it to podium

-he’s a beast, my god

-yes babyyy

-Checo defense force

-damnnnn that wheel actionnnn

-HE MADE PODIUM

-aii poor Carlos

-52nd career win! 👏👏

-do I want to watch the championship deciding race now??

-random but Lewis just sounded like Lightening McQueen right now while celebrating

-maxplainingggg (he just can’t resist)

-okay I’m watching Abu Dhabi

[bonos-grindcore-sideproject]

Found on Twitter.

"U2 hurl a lot at you and some of it sticks. Apart from the basic fact that they play very well with the ruthlessly straight drumming of Larry Mullen offsetting The Edge's exploratory teeterings they have what I have become evermore convinced is the supreme commodity in music: passion. Beside that all other virtues pale.

"The mouthpiece for that feeling is Bono, a bloke with a pleasant, rural face who came on stage zipped up tight in a leather jacket and gradually loosened his accoutrements as the set went on and he flung himself into a lather of pointing and pleading.

"They've got a fire though."