#<- i am usually an oscar to red bull person

[p6to]

What the fuck is going on?

I was in the process of typing out several essays worth of thoughts in the tags of @tsarinablogs's lestappen 2024 manifesto, because what else is new. Since I am uncannily similar to Max in all aspects of his public persona (except his driving abilities and his apparent need to come out as bisexual in every third interview), including the 'tism allegations and the certified "parent has a very weird sense of seeing their child as their own person" experience, in this essay I will be yapping about Screwderia Ferrari, shady business and of course: Charles Leclerc.

Charles has given his life and a large part of his career in f1 to Ferrari, leading to six wins, including his own home race Monaco and Ferrari's home race Monza, but also ten gazillion strategy fuck ups and now a (likely) second failed championship battle.

How much is too much for a person to handle?

Ferrari has not won a championship since Kimi Räikkönen in 2007. That much was known when Charles went through the ranks in the Ferrari Driver Academy, so he knew they were not suddenly going to dominate the way Red Bull did the last few years and Mercedes before them. He still had faith in them, made promises about his achievements to his dying father when he must have known that they might be impossible to ever reach.

His devotion and his talent have made him into an (almost) religious figure to the tifosi. Charles Leclerc is Ferrari, and Ferrari is Charles Leclerc.

Or is it?

Time and time again, we have witnessed Charles getting fucked over in favour of his teammate (see "it looks like they're going to sacrifice Leclerc" - George, or the entirety of the SF-23, maybe even today). While a team principal and a good number of other employees were fired in 2022 because things were going horrible and Charles insisted on it, and things were looking better when competent personnel and even Lewis Hamilton were signed by Fred Vasseur, it seems like the actual problem is still there.

Based on what we saw with the Barcelona upgrades and Carlos' interviews, we may have to expect the car to be developed to suit Carlos' understeer-y preference once again, which is wild considering that he is a driver who is leaving at the end of the year, has been outperformed by Charles pretty consistently over the time they were teammates, and has shown very clearly (alone this season!) that he is (in the words of a friend) not driving for Ferrari but for Carlos.

How can it be that Charles has mechanical and technical problems every second race weekend, while his teammate does not, and not only does nobody from the team leadership say anything about it but they also let Carlos downplay Charles' very severe brake issues in Bahrain?

Silverstone has marked the third race this season where Charles did not score points due to either inherent issues of the car (tire warm up in qualifying), mechanical issues (engine), damage (front wing in Austria) AND very questionable strategy calls. Three races of the twelve that have passed is 25%, a figure that is much too high for any top team, let alone Ferrari who were very close to catching up to Red Bull in the WCC just four races ago.

Of course, problems in car development and maybe even a higher lack of reliability in mechanical parts can happen to any team. However, we will now come to the area where I see the biggest problem.

This entire triple header, Fred Vasseur has been giving unacceptable statements about BOTH of his drivers. In Barcelona, he downplayed the issue between Charles and Carlos at the start, positioning himself directly against the driver he should be supporting since he was objectively (data-supported) correct. In Austria, Sky Sports had to make him watch the moment Charles sustained the damage to his front wing, because he could not be bothered to watch it during the actual race.

And now in Silverstone, he blamed both Carlos and Charles for not performing miracles with this shitshow of a tractor during qualifying, let his drivers be fed different information regarding the incoming rain leading to one of them making the wrong tire choice, ruining his race, and then had the audacity to lie about that and Charles position during this incident, making it look like he was still behind Lance when he had actually already overtaken him and was now behind Carlos after starting four places behind him, EVEN THOUGH there were radio transcripts and of course the fucking broadcast that showed the truth.

Us Chirlies have to preface our posts about conspiracy theories with statements about tinfoil hats and "for legal reasons this is a joke", but I will not do this here.

I fully believe that there is shady business going on at Ferrari, including but not limited to potential blackmailing, software sabotage and bribery. I will not pin these onto specific people/groups, because there are too many options. I also think that there is shady business going on at every team, but not to this extent.

The way things are going, with Charles already being on an actually not so subtle PR warpath, I expect some form of news in the next three weeks, including either announcements about people being fired or a Charles-to-Red Bull announcement, although Charles to Mercedes would not surprise me either.

Merc fans joined in on criticising Fred yesterday, and hardcore Max fans are saying Charles should leave Ferrari and join Max at Red Bull. This issue has breached containment, as it should.

Either things are changing at Ferrari or Charles will be exchanging Ferrari for a different team. There is no other solution.

(You have made it to the bottom of this yap-fest. Congratulations! I wish you a very nice day/week/month/year/life without Ferrari-like fuck ups and thank you for reading my stuff :) )

[maxlarens]

ok so i had an idea for the rb photographer fic if you're up for it

first of all im like in love w ur fics i love em all

and nextly, listen to this..

charles isn't single but manwhore carlos probably is?

he flirts w our photographer and makes max jealous?? roped in by danny ofc to get them together?? what do you think??

anyway have a great day! <33333

UM OKAY THANK YOU! max x rbphotographer!reader are literally everything to me and i am SOO thrilled to have gotten this request. very in character for daniel to get everyone involved in scheming even tho max has told him not to😭 love it so much😇😇 hope u enjoy and i am SOOOO sorry this took so long xx

MV: tonight (i wish i was your boy)

pairing(s): max verstappen x redbull photographer!reader

word count: 1.9k+

Max likes to think he’s not a jealous person.

Max likes to think that— but it doesn’t mean it’s true. Daniel would and has, argued that Max is an abnormally jealous person. In the sense that Max doesn’t like to share. Doesn’t like other people playing with his toys. Not that he thinks of you (or Daniel) as his toy— that’s absurd. He’s a jealous person, not some territorial asshole with an anger problem. (Okay, sometimes he has an anger problem. He’s been working on it. It hardly crops up anymore, but he’s not territorial).

He is, again, bad at sharing, and also uniquely used to getting what he wants.

It’s not because he’s got a crush on you. Despite what Daniel would like to assume. It’s just that you’re meant to be his friend. You’re here with him, because of him. He’s meant to be able to hover around you all night, getting carried away as he tries to explain something meaningless while you give him that half-grin that you don’t even realise you’re doing most of the time. He’s the one who’s supposed to be putting his hand on your back, and leaning in to ask if you’d like another drink—

Not Carlos.

Definitely not Carlos.

(Well, at least it’s not Charles).

Instead, Max is standing next to an overeager Lando at the DJ deck, gripping his drink so hard that he’s mildly concerned the glass will shatter to pieces in his hand. Actually, that’s not such a bad idea to get your attention. Maybe if that happens you’ll stop looking at Carlos Sainz Jr with big googly eyes and you’ll come nurse his hand or whatever it is you’re supposed to do in pathetic little fantasies like the one he’s entertaining. You’re not really the nursing type though, you’re more prone to start freaking out and calling everyone on the Red Bull team to tell them that Max has irreparably damaged his hand.

Max stops entertaining that particular fantasy.

Daniel’s not here, he’s gone home to Australia for a few weeks and skipped out on this weird little grid (+ friends) party that Charles is throwing. This is good and this is bad for Max. On one hand Daniel is not here to rib him about his half-admitted crush on you, on the other hand Daniel is not here to distract him from his half-admitted crush on you. There’s Lando of course, who can be just as good in the distraction department, but it’s not quite the same. 

Lando doesn’t quite know about the raging crush, which is probably for the better. He’s been around when Lando’s tried to set up Oscar before and that was an absolute unmitigated disaster.

“Hey man,” speaking of Oscar, “You good?”

Max frowns and then half turns to look at Oscar who’s now hovering next to Lando with a fruity little drink in hand, “Yeah mate,” he answers, confused.

Oscar gets this weird little micro expression on his face that Max wouldn’t usually take any note of— his forehead creases, he raises a disbelieving eyebrow— but the skepticism grates at Max a little, leaves him wondering.

“Why?”, he caves.

Oscar shakes his head, shrugs, “You're kind of staring down Carlos."

Max's mouth falls open, just a little. He is not. His eyes flit to Lando unconsciously for confirmation before he has a chance to defend himself against what are frankly untrue allegations from Oscar. But Lando is already shrugging, making a face that says he has been.

Fuck. Max frowns. And doesn't say anything.

Better to stay quiet and look moody than to admit anything to these two. Total menaces. Well, no that's Lando. Oscar might be helpful. Still, Max isn't going to admit anything. Daniel and apparently Charles knowing about it is more than enough.

Their hushed conversation behind him fades into the background as Max turns again to look at you and Carlos— and alright he gets it now. There's definitely a different kind of set to his jaw, a scowl on his lips as he watches Carlos put his hand on your shoulder.

There is something in his gut. Something sick. The feeling he gets when he's on track and the car starts sliding, the wheels locking up. When hears the va-rum of a car go by, sees something that isn't wide open space in front of him. Something like panic starts to climb up his throat. He knows he shouldn't be this bothered by you and another person, but he can't get rid of this voice in the back of his head that says you might like Carlos more than him. That you might stop hanging around Max, texting him at all hours of the day with photos of your food or random questions, waiting for him in the garage after sessions and not just because you've got to take pictures of him, and going out for food on 'friend dates' as you've taken to calling them.

If you and Carlos... okay no, Max doesn't even want to think about it.

He starts walking over, trying to smooth his face into something less intimidating as he goes. He turns it into a strained, mouth-closed smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He directs it at Carlos.

There's a glint in Carlos' eyes that Max doesn't like the look of.

"Hi Max," he says, flashing his white teeth, he gestures to you, "I was just getting to know your lovely friend here."

Alright. Max understands instantly. This has Daniel's name written all fucking over it. Max's fake smile falls, turning into a flat look that he levels at Carlos. He's trying not to scowl because he doesn't want you to catch on to anything, but it's not easy. His phone is burning a hole in his pocket, he doesn't care if it's the middle of the night in Australia right now, he's itching to call Danny and ask him what the fuck he is thinking pulling something like this from 14,000 kilometers away?

"Mm," Max hums, unimpressed, unable to fake pleasantries even for your sake, "Great."

You look at him, eyebrows raised a little incredulously at his tone. There's slight amusement there too, he thinks, as he returns your look. You squint a little, as if to say, don't give me that look, Max Verstappen. He can feel himself smiling, the corner of his mouth lifting with ease even though the object of his anger still has his stupid hand on your shoulder.

He can't help himself when he reaches for your elbow, asks, "D'you wanna get a drink?"

You bite down on the edge of your smile, "Sure, Maxie."

You turn and say something to Carlos that he doesn't listen to. Partly because he doesn't care, partly because the sound of you saying Maxie is playing on a loop in his head, like it always does whenever you use the nickname. Which is more often than not. God, he loves it. Maxie Maxie Maxie. It sounds so syrupy sweet coming from your mouth. Smothered in affection. You're the only person, bar his mum and sister that he lets use it. Daniel sometimes, but Daniel would say it regardless, the menace that he is.

"Max," you say, hand on his bicep, thumb smoothing back and forth there, "Where'd you go?"

Max blinks. Carlos is gone now.

"Hm, no, nowhere," you frown, so he says, "Just a bit tired."

This seems to satisfy you. You slip an arm into the crook of his, linking them together as you tug him to the bar. You order him a G&T and yourself a glass of wine before the two of you head out onto the balcony where it's far quieter. Less people, less chatter. Max prefers it like this, with no one there to get in the way of your attention on him, his on you. He thinks you prefer it too.

He hopes you do at least.

You sip your wine, Max’s eyes linger on the line of your neck, the way your fingers curl around the glass, how your eyes glitter in the early afternoon sun.

“What was that earlier?”, you gesture inside, raising your eyebrows again, “With Carlos?”

Max laughs nervously without meaning to, “Uh, what do you mean?”

The ‘something sick’ is back in his gut again. He hopes you buy his nonchalance, but doesn’t feel confident you will. You know him too well. That’s his fault.

You sigh, “I mean the dick measuring contest, Maxie.”

Maxie. Maxie.

Then he finally registers your words around the loop of your voice in his head, he guffaws, almost choking on his drink, “The dick measuring contest!?”

“Yes,” you hiss, leaning forward on your stool, “Yes, Max. I’m not an idiot, you were getting territorial.”

Max blinks. Max feels red creeping up his neck. Max feels butterflies and maybe a chainsaw in his stomach.

“Wha—”, he tries again, “I—”

His mouth doesn’t appear to be working. Maybe because he’s not sure what on earth he’s supposed to say. What do you even mean? Are you trying to say that you know he was jealous of Carlos? That you know he has feelings for you? Or are you just referencing the fact that he’s weirdly territorial of his friends sometimes? What is he supposed to say in response to any of it? He can’t figure it out for the life of him.

Then you’re blushing you’re blushing and you’re saying, “You don’t have to worry, Max. You’re my favourite person here.”

Okay, alright, what the fuck does that mean? God. Max hates this. If you were any other girl he’d have asked you out literally years ago. But because you’re you and you’re his best friend besides Daniel, he can’t ask you out. He has to smother his feelings into something platonic because he cannot bear the idea of losing you.

Despite his better judgment telling him not to, Max asks, “Really?”

You hum, “Really, really.”

It happens in slow motion, it must. Or at least that’s how Max replays it in his head every night before he goes to sleep. You reach forward and put your hand over his, fingers on his wrist, thumb drawing a pattern on his upturned palm.

Then you say, in a way that he can’t figure out for the life of him, “Love you, Maxie.”

Chills run down the length of his spine, that chainsaw starts up again in his stomach. Love you, Maxie. He feels sick— like he might word vomit the entirety of his feelings for you right there and then. Instead, he forces himself to smile. Closed-mouth, eyes crinkled.

“Mm, yeah, love you,” he says back, his voice cracking as he tries to make it sound normal and platonic and not wracked with nerves.

You smile, warm, beaming and showing your teeth, like he’s made your day infinitely better by just saying those words. As if you’ve not just made his stomach churn and his heart take leaps and bounds in his chest. As if he’s not going to think about the way you’d said it every second of every day. As if he won’t dream of you saying it in every other context imaginable.

You pat his hand twice, then pull it back to take hold of your drink again. Smiling as if you’ve not ruined him for anyone else for good.

[cobraonthecob]

F1 2024 Predictions!

Red Bull: Obviously they’re going to continue to dominate. They have to get in their domination years before the 2026 regulations come by, so as far as 2024 and 2025 are concerned for me, Red Bull is going to aim to dominate and they will. The only thing I’d be interested in Red Bull in is whether or not Checo will have stable mental health to hold a smaller gap in points between him and Max, because what the hell happened after Monaco alsdkjfaklsdfj.

Ferrari: I am not a superstitious person usually, but if you have Scuderia in your name, your strategists are shit. AlphaTauri has this problem, and Ferrari is the same. At least Ferrari has a car that can get points (not great ones, but still points) whereas AT will be far away from the points. So hopefully 2024, the strategists gain more brain cells, otherwise, it’s just going to be a repeat of 2023.

Mercedes: The strategy is questionable at times, but what really needs to improve is the pit stop times. They’re doing better, but they NEED to get their heads out of their asses for that because that’s the real killer in my opinion. 

Mclaren: My surprise prediction of 2024, is that Mclaren is going to be the team that will come close to lighting a fire under Red Bull. Or rather; Oscar, Lando, and Checo are going to be fighting for podium spots after Max fucks off ten seconds ahead of them (a gracious guess, it would’ve been 20 seconds but I decided to be nice). We all saw Mclaren’s miraculous technological growth this year, so assuming Mclaren doesn’t bring a tractor at the start of the season, I can very much see a Red Bull vs Mclaren fight.

Also we need a lando win. Please, he’s been suffering for too long

Aston Martin: I don’t follow AM, so if anyone wants to bring additional info, I’ll be grateful, but I feel like they’ll bring the fight to P3 in the constructor’s championship against Ferrari and Mercedes. They seem to have decent strategy and pit stops, it’s just that the car is average with two good drivers. Maybe they should hope for more rainy races and Lance works his driving-in-the-rain magic.

THE MIDFIELD:

I predict that it’s going to be an Alpine-Williams-AlphaTauri/Racing Balls fight.

Alpine: if the Frenchpine civil war doesn’t fuck them up more, because Pierre really showed what he was made of. I can’t really estimate how good they are against each other because Esteban has had 6 DNFs total, 4 being mechanical failures, 2 retirements because of collision from other people running into him, and I’m not counting all the times Esteban has run into other people but no DNF because I’m not combing through every race lol. I think they’re equal, it’s just that Esteban’s car was plagued with mechanical problems and Esteban regularly finds himself in weird situations where he’s getting bonked into or he’s bonking into someone else. Alpine is going to be fighting themselves and the rest of the midfield lol.

Williams: Alex is definitely going to head that king of the midfield fight for Williams while Logan will quietly improve and hopefully get points. 

AlphaTauri: Daniel and Yūki are probably the best driver pairing AlphaTauri could ask for. Daniel’s experience and Yūki approaching his fourth year on the team means they have to be fighting for consistent points now from both of them, and that’s only if AT doesn’t give them a tractor to drive. Also, before anyone who didn’t pay attention to Yūki’s growth this year, you missed out. The two major times I can say that Yūki costed himself points was Singapore - I definitely think he turned too early in that first lap and doing it next to Checo of all drivers - and Mexico, where he turned on the outside and bumped into Oscar and spinning himself off the track. But most importantly, even though Yūki couldn’t crawl back into the points in time, he LEARNED, and in Brazil, he applied that when he didn’t do the same error when he and Lewis were fighting. 

Sauber: Hopefully with the shedding of AlfaRomeo, they’ll bounce back. But they’re my flop prediction.

Haas: This team flopping is a given. I will be pleasantly surprised if they pull a Mclaren and miraculously be consistently pulling themselves into P9/P10 every race.

[f1]

New F1 star Oscar Piastri reveals his pride at being 'the only Aussie on the grid' this season

New F1 star Oscar Piastri reveals his pride at being ‘the only Aussie on the grid’…but admits he may be a little ‘rusty’ when he returns to the track after 18-month break Oscar Piastri will make his Formula 1 debut in Bahrain next month The 21-year-old replaced Daniel Ricciardo at McLaren at the end of last year Piastri won back-to-back world titles in Formula 3 and Formula 2   By Dan Cancian For Daily Mail Australia Published: 11:41 GMT, 14 February 2023 | Updated: 11:41 GMT, 14 February 2023 Oscar Piastri is relishing the 'special feeling' of being the only Australian on the Formula 1 grid this season, but conceded it may take him a while to get up to speed with his competitors. The 21-year-old has replaced Daniel Ricciardo at McLaren after spending last season as the reserve driver for Alpine.  With his compatriot failing to land a seat after parting ways with the Woking team and returning to Red Bull as reserve driver, Piastri will be tasked with flying the Australian flag in the world championship in 2023. Not that the youngster appears to be fazed by the prospect. 'It is nice to be the next Aussie into F1, there is usually only one of us at a time, so to be the Aussie on the grid now is a special feeling,' Piastri said on Tuesday at the launch of McLaren's car for the 2023 season. Oscar Piastri is relishing the role of being the only Australian on the Formula 1 grid this season 'There is a big sense of pride being the only Aussie on the grid, but that’s not to say that I wouldn’t enjoy having fellow Aussies on the grid there, too. 'Looking back on the past […] Alan Jones and Sir Jack are two greats of Australian motorsport and Mark, obviously there is a personal connection there being my manager, and obviously Daniel with his race wins, too. 'I want to be the next Aussie who has got success in the sport […] it is an inspiration for me to do my country proud.' A world champion in Formula 2 and Formula 3 in 2020 and 2021, Piastri has long been considered one of Formula 1's rising stars.  Piastri replaced Daniel Ricciardo at McLaren, with his fellow Australian returning to Red Bull as their reserve driver for 2023 after failing to land a seat But in his role as Alpine test driver last year he saw very little action and he hasn't competed in an official race for 18 months. The young Aussie conceded the lengthy lay-off had not been ideal preparation, but insisted he was hopeful to shake off any 'rust' when pre-season testing begins in Bahrain next week. 'Obviously as a racing driver I want to be racing all the time, so having the year without racing was obviously not ideal,' he said.  'But I think I tried to make the most of what I had last year and tried to learn as much as I could about the F1 environment outside of driving.' Piastri tested last year's McLaren in Abu Dhabi in November after signing with the team But admitted he may be a bit 'rusty' as he hasn't raced competitively for 18 months  Speaking on the Beyond the Grid podcast last month, Ricciardo urged Piastri to absorb as much information as he can but warned him to keep expectations in check in his rookie season. And Piastri acknowledged there were no set targets ahead of his debut campaign in Formula 1. 'In terms of results (this year) there are not really any set expectations,' he said.  'I am going to try to learn as much as I can and get up to speed as quickly as I can, [but] there is going to be an element of rust there in the beginning having not raced for a while now.' The Formula 1 season begins on March 5 in Bahrain, followed by the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix on March 19 and the Australian Grand Prix in Melbourne two weeks later.  Share or comment on this article: New F1 star Oscar Piastri reveals his pride at being 'the only Aussie on the grid' this season via Formula One | Mail Online https://www.dailymail.co.uk?ns_mchannel=rss&ns_campaign=1490&ito=1490

[uomo-accattivante]

Great article about Paul Schrader’s The Card Counter - a poker movie that’s not really a poker movie...

Some filmmakers write a hit movie and spend the ensuing years trying to escape its shadow. Paul Schrader never flinched. Forty-five years after his “Taxi Driver” script put him on the map, the writer-director has developed a body of work loaded with alienated anti-heroes compelled to violent and reckless extremes for the sake of a higher calling.

That includes “The Card Counter,” in which Oscar Isaac plays guilt-stricken Abu Ghraib vet William Tell, a man with a gambling addiction compelled to help the revenge-seeking son (Tye Sheridan) of a former colleague. Taking justice into his own hands, Isaac’s William Tell slithers through the Vegas strip in search of questionable salvation, not unlike a certain Vietnam vet named Travis Bickle did from the driver’s seat. As if to cement the comparisons, “The Card Counter” features Martin Scorsese as an executive producer, marking the first time the two men share a credit since 1999’s “Bringing Out the Dead.”

For Schrader, “Taxi Driver” comparisons are inevitable in all his work. “My tendency is to look for interesting occupational metaphors,” Schrader said in a recent interview. “‘Taxi Driver’ hit the bull’s eye of the zeitgeist and it doesn’t die. There’s no way I could’ve planned for that, but it does inform the stories I tell.”

At 75, Schrader continues to churn out movies much like his compatriot Scorsese, albeit on a much smaller scale. “The Card Counter” is the latest illustration of the secularized Christian dogma percolating through his work. “Our society doesn’t like to take responsibility for anything,” he said. “But I come from a culture where you’re responsible for everything. You come into the world soaked with guilt and you just get guiltier.” In his own prickly fashion, Schrader makes movies steeped in empathy for lost souls in search of redemption despite the daunting odds. “We’re all certainly capable of forgiveness,” he said, and chuckled. “Anyone who says otherwise is wrong.”

The “Taxi Driver” dilemma looms large in nearly all of Schrader’s work, from the dazzling high-stakes activism of “Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters” all the way through Ethan Hawke’s eco-conscious priest in “First Reformed.” While the latter, Oscar-nominated effort brought Schrader new fans, “The Card Counter” is an even more precise distillation of his aesthetic — a moody, philosophical drama about the vanity of the personal crusade.

Schrader, who has labeled his homegrown character studies as “man in the room” dramas, embraces the parallels as usual. “There is this kind of myth that the taxi driver was this friendly, joking kind of guy who was a character actor in movies,” he said. “But the reality is that it’s a very lonely job, and you’re trapped in a box for 60 hours a week.” He saw the same logic with gambling, a wayward profession generally depicted in the movies in the context of escapist romps, rather than the somber rituals that afflict most players. “I thought about the essence of playing cards every day, or sitting in front of a slot machine. It’s kind of zombie-like,” Schrader said. “You see commercials of people in casinos laughing. But it’s a pretty glum place. Today with slots you don’t even have to pull the lever. You just sit there and let the numbers roll.”

The gambling figure led Schrader to the bigger picture of his character’s conundrum. “I was wondering why someone would choose to live in that sort of purgatory,” he said. “He doesn’t want to be alive, but he can’t really be dead, either. What could cause that? It can’t be a simple crime, murder, or a family dispute. It has to be something unforgivable. And that was Abu Ghraib.”

After the fallout of that debacle, William did time in a military prison, and reenters society before the movie begins. That was a world the filmmaker wanted to understand in clearer terms. Though Schrader has received blowback for his controversial Facebook posts in the past, in this case, the platform was an asset: He used it to track down soldiers who had done time in the United States Penitentiary in Leavenworth, the only military prison in the U.S., to better understand the initial claustrophobic world that Tell endures, as well as the conflict between the justice he’s received and what he deserves. “This man has been punished by his government, set free, and paid his due, but he doesn’t feel that,” Schrader said. “What does he do then? How does he fill his time? That’s how it all began.”

Schrader himself toyed with gambling when he lived in Los Angeles early in his career, but soon gave it up. “I very quickly realized I was only interested in gambling if it was really dangerous and I didn’t want to expose myself to that kind of danger,” he said. Years later, though, the experience helped inform his story. “There is this whole fantasy of gambling movies from ‘The Cincinnati Kid’ to ‘California Split,’” Schrader said. “But poker is all about waiting. People will play 10 to 12 hours a day and two to three times a day, a hand will happen where two players both have chips. Now you’ve got a face-off. But that doesn’t happen very often. Most guys who are there are running the numbers, the probability.”

He envisioned “The Card Counter” as a repudiation of the traditional poker movie, which builds to the giddy release of a final tournament. When that moment arrives in the movie, Schrader takes the movie in a bleak, shocking new direction. “It’s not really a poker movie — that’s a red herring,” he said.

William is immersed in his casino journey when he encounters Cirk (Sheridan), the crazy-eyed son of another Abu Ghraib soldier who committed suicide. Cirk blames the soldiers’ former commander (Willem Dafoe), and hopes to loop William into the plan. Instead, the older man decides to take Cirk under his wing to talk him out of the act, which doesn’t prove so easy. In the process, the gambler forms a curious bond with La Linda (Tiffany Haddish), a gambling agent and pimp whose icy, relentless drive to make the most out of the poker circuit brings William some measure of companionship on his wayward journey.

It should come as no surprise that the “Girls Trip” breakout is nearly unrecognizable in the role of the calculated La Linda, which is also a distinctly Schraderish touch: From his work with Richard Pryor in 1978’s “Blue Collar” all the way through Cedric the Entertainer’s supporting turn in “First Reformed,” Schrader has made a habit of seeking out comedic actors willing to play against type. That’s partly opportunistic on his part. “They’re eager to do it because they want to expand their palette, so you can get them for a price,” Schrader said, chuckling again. “That’s necessary, given the kind of films I make.” But that’s not all: “They will always find a way to be interesting, even when they’re not getting a laugh.”

Which is not to say that the process comes easily to them. Haddish recently told the New York Times that Schrader had to coach her out of speaking in a comedic sing-song. The filmmaker put it in blunter terms. “On the first reading of the script we had, frankly, she wasn’t very good,” he said. “I told her to go back and read every single line without emotion. Then I said, ‘You’re not going to do that in front of the camera, but you can’t hit every line either. So let’s pick five or six lines you can hit where you get a smile or reaction.’ Quickly she got that it was a different rhythm.”

As for Isaac, whose disquieting turn suggests a maniac lingering just beneath the surface, Schrader once again turned to metaphor. “I told him to imagine himself on a rocky coast in the ocean,” Schrader said. “Waves are going to come up and get you all day every day. They’re going to try to batter you. Let them. The waves will go away. You’ll still be there. Don’t compete. In the end, the rocks will win. You have to learn to trust that the way these things are put together has more power than the individual movement.”

William’s routine includes an odd ritual in which he covers all the furniture in his various Vegas hotel rooms with white paper. While the motivation is never explained, Schrader said it stemmed from an experience with production designer Ferdinando Scarfiotti on the set of 1982’s “Cat People,” when Schrader realized the man was doing the same thing. “He said, quite simply, ‘I have to live here surrounded by these ugly hotel furnishings,’” Schrader recalled. The concept inspired the new movie’s most compelling visual motif. “Casinos are very ugly places. There are no exceptions,” Schrader said. “Often you aspire to finding pockets of beauty and there weren’t really any here except the only place he could control, which was his hotel rooms, where he could privatize his visions. I came up with this ritual for him to control those visuals.”

At a certain point, Schrader himself couldn’t control the visuals of “The Card Counter” for more prosaic reasons: After an extra tested positive for COVID-19, the production shut down last March, with five days of shooting left, and couldn’t resume until July. Though Schrader initially took to Facebook to fume at his producers, the pause eventually opened up an opportunity to tweak his vision. “I edited the film and put in placeholders for the five or six scenes of consequence that I hadn’t shot,” he said. “I didn’t have a fully finished film but I could screen it for people. Normally you only get that privilege if you have a big-budget film and you’re allowed reshoots.” The early audience included Scorsese, who provided a crucial note. “I asked Marty, ‘What am I missing?’ He said to me that the relationship with Tiffany and Oscar was too thin. So I rewrote those scenes.”

Schrader asked Scorsese to take on the executive producer credit as a favor. “I said, ‘Marty, wouldn’t it be nice to share a card again? I thought it would help sell the film but it would also be a cool thing to do after all these years,’” Schrader said. “Then a couple of weeks later his agent called wanting to work out a deal. What deal? I asked Marty and he said yes. That’s the deal!” Now, the pair are trying to collaborate on a new long-form TV series based on the Bible, though the timing has been delayed by production on Scorsese’s upcoming “Killers of the Flower Moon.”

In the meantime, Schrader has been mulling over the way “Taxi Driver” not only continues to inform his storytelling but the world at large. “Hardly a week goes by that I don’t notice or hear some reference to it,” he said. “But I don’t know how you’d tell such a story today. A number of writers have tried and I don’t think they’ve succeeded because it has to come out of a certain place and time. We have plenty of these incels around, but they’re not as original or revealing as they were 45 years ago when that character came on the scene. I wouldn’t know how to write about it.”

Instead, his next project is a love triangle called “Master Gardener,” which he hopes to shoot in Louisiana before the end of the year. He has several other potential scripts ready to go after that. And while he has expressed trepidation about the future of cinema in the past, he’s not convinced that audiences have given up on it yet. He recalled a conversation he had with Cedric the Entertainer when “First Reformed” made the rounds. “He said off-handedly to me, ‘You know, I didn’t realize there were so many people who liked serious movies,’” Schrader said, and chuckled once more. “Well, yeah, there are.”

“The Card Counter” premieres next week at the Venice Film Festival. Focus Features releases on September 10, 2021.

###

[youare-mysonshine]

funhouse || oscar diaz

Summary: reader convinces Oscar to go ghost hunting with her in an abandoned house and it’s both hilarious and terrifying.

Requested: yes! @varzling

Pairing: Oscar Diaz x reader, Jamal Turner x reader (platonic)

Warnings: cussing as per usual

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: I loved this so much lmao I was born one week before halloween and I was obsessed with scary movies and spooky shit before I could even properly talk. I had the Chucky doll and my uncle called me Chucky because I was obsessed with that movie. This was one of my favorites to write because paranormal and horror stuff is my fav! This is me, I am reader lmao this was fun to write! I also did this in second person pov rather than third person which is what i normally do. let me know if you prefer this or if you prefer third person.

________________

“No.”

“Baby, come on! Please?”

It had all started when Jamal had mentioned in passing that there was an abandoned house only a few blocks away from where you lived. An abandoned house that people assumed was haunted. He had mentioned that he wanted to go ghost hunting with some equipment that he had bought but had been wary of it because he didn’t want to go alone.

You loved that stuff. Paranormal shit was your absolute favorite, so naturally, you agreed to go with Jamal. You were absolutely buzzing with excitement, and you had put it in your mind to convince Oscar to go with you two - but you knew that it wouldn’t be an easy feat.

You knew Oscar better than anyone and you knew just how jumpy and how fearful he was of paranormal stuff, which you found rather amusing given just how much of an intimidating man he was. Shit, people called him Spooky. You always took the time to tease him about it - you’d sneak up behind him wrapped in a white sheet (like a ghost) just to scare him, which he certainly didn’t appreciate it, but you found absolutely hilarious.

So getting him to agree to go with you and Jamal to ghost hunt was certainly a mission.

“Nah. I ain’t going.” He said, taking a drag from the cigarette he was smoking. You stood in front of him, holding his free hand and giving him those puppy dog eyes that he couldn’t resist. That would be why he wouldn’t meet your eyes, why he was looking everywhere but you, because he knew damn well he’d give in if he looked at you. You had him wrapped around your little finger.

“Oscar, please!” You dragged the word out, jutting your bottom lip out. “It’ll be fun!” That was when he finally looked at you, raising one of his perfectly arched eyebrows, a look that said ‘fun? Yeah right.’ “No, I’m serious. It’ll be fun. It’s like.. a cool, adventurous date night. When’s the last time we went out on an actual date together?”

“Jamal is going. I don’t think it’d be a date night if that travieso is going.”

“Okay, date night plus one. Baby, please come on. I want you to go. You don’t have to be scared. I’m sure it’s not haunted. Jamal said it was just rumors, and rumors are almost always just that - rumors. People see an abandoned creepy house and automatically assume that it’s haunted when it’s probably not.” You said, interlocking your fingers with his own. His fingers immediately tightened around your own, giving your hand a small squeeze. He took in another drag, those dark eyes you loved so much staring right into your own. The setting sun was hitting him just right, giving his eyes a honey colored look. Under the glow of the setting sun, he almost looked ethereal. Perfect.

“I ain’t scared.” He spoke, voice deep and gruff. You scoffed, giving him a tiny smirk.

“Really? Then prove it. Come with us tonight. You can protect me if I get scared. My big, scary Santo. My Spooky.” You walked forward, closing the already small space between the two of you, settling between his legs. Given he was sitting and you were standing, he was left looking up at you, you looking down at him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers drawing random little shapes on his tan skin. You leaned your head down, your y/h/c/ hair falling from behind your shoulders. The tattooed man reached one hand up and tucked some of your hair behind your ear, but instead of removing his hand, he kept it there and instead used it to pull your head down further and further until there was nothing but a few mere centimeters between your lips.

You could feel his lips ghosting over your own, you could practically taste the cigarette he was smoking, the Red Bull he was drinking. It was entirely Oscar and you loved it. Closing your eyes, you finally closed the gap and connected your lips to his. Each kiss with Oscar felt as if it were the first one you shared. It never failed to take your breath away. As cliche as it was, it gave you butterflies. It sent tingles throughout your entire body. And you hoped that feeling would never fade away.

The hand that was cradling your cheek/head slid down your body until it came upon your ass, where Oscar grabbed a handful of supple skin and gave it a squeeze. You let out a small giggle against his lips and pulled away, eyes opening, lips slightly wet with saliva. You gave him the look, that small little smile on your eyes, eyes shining bright. Your man let out a deep sigh. He looked up at the sky, as if he were pondering and asking god why the hell he could never say no to you.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll go. But we ain’t staying long.” You gave him a grin, leaning down to kiss his lips once more.

“Yes! It’s gonna be fun, papas!”

And nighttime came sooner than Oscar would’ve liked. He didn’t outwardly admit it, but he was low-key nervous about going to this supposed haunted house. He was entirely and completely afraid, but he fully believed that there were ghosts, spirits, demons, things of that sort and he never wanted to dabble into that kind of shit for fear of being haunted or possessed. He was more afraid of the enemy that he couldn’t see than the enemy he could.

You and Oscar had climbed into his cherry red impala and went on your way to pick Jamal up at his house and no less than a second after you had arrived, the boy had come bounding out dressed in all black, carrying a backpack.

“I’m gonna regret this.” Oscar said as he caught sight of Jamal’s grinning face. You opened up the passenger side door and scooted over so that you were in the middle and Jamal could sit down. The young teen climbed into the car, shut the door and set his backpack down on the car floor.

“Spooky. Lady Spooky.” He greeted you both. You laughed softly at the name, meanwhile Oscar just stared straight ahead, putting the car into drive and pulling away from Jamal’s house.

“Hey Jamal.” You greeted, giving him a friendly smile. Despite the age difference, you genuinely loved and cared for all of Cesar’s friends. After all the shit that they had been through, you just wanted to try and alleviate some of the pressure and stress, you wanted them to feel like they weren’t alone. Maybe that’s also why you were so keen on accompanying Jamal on his ghost hunting journey.

After Oscar had asked for the directions of this supposed haunted house, with Jamal reiterating that lots of people had said it was haunted so it had to be true, he gave the direction and you three were on your way. You were actually buzzing with a nervous excitement. You had never done anything of the sort before, even if you’d always wanted to. But you were definitely nervous of what you’d find.

“What’s in the backpack?” You asked, nodding down at the black backpack that looked full to the brim with things. The over excited teenager gave a triumphant grin as he leaned down ever so slightly and scooped it up. He dropped it down onto your lap, the opening facing his direction, and you let out a little ‘oof’.

“I thought you’d never ask. Okay so, after finding out about this abandoned/ haunted house, I decided to create a ghost hunting pack. I ordered some stuff online. Let’s see..” He unzipped the backpack and began pulling things out one by one.

“I got this spirit box. This shit was not cheap either so it better work.” He pulled out this relatively large contraption that you probably didn’t know how to use.

“What’s that for?” Oscar piped in, taking his eyes off the road for a few seconds to glance over at what Jamal was holding.

“This is basically for whatever entity or spirit is present to communicate with us. We just turn this on, ask questions and wait for someone to talk back to us.” He set the spirit box down on his lap and then rummaged around the backpack again.

“A flashlight. I seriously doubt that janky place has functioning electricity. We’ll definitely need this. Also got us some walkie talkies incase we need to split up and cover some more ground.” You were genuinely amazed at how much stuff this kid could fit into a single backpack. And how seriously he seemed to be taking this entire thing.

“I also got this Digital thermometer to tell when the temperature has dropped. Apparently when there is an entity present, shit gets cold real fast. Let’s see… Oh! I also have holy water! And I brought the Bible. And a ouija board.”

“You fucking what?” You asked, lifting the backpack open to reveal that there was indeed a ouija board, a bible and holy water sitting inside.

“Oh hell nah. You ain’t using the ouija board up in there. You about to make us get a ghost.” Oscar said.

“And, don’t you think that if we used the ouija board while having these religious artifacts, we could potentially let something.. I don’t know, demonic in and make it angry?” You added.

“Okay first off, get a ghost? What the hell? How do you get a ghost? Do you purchase it? Is there a ghost store that I don’t know about?” He shot his words at Oscar, face twisted up in confusion. Oscar’s face had annoyance written all over it. You rested your hand on his hand and gave it a small squeeze. “Second of all, that is why I brought the holy water and the Bible, woman! You two are amateurs, seriously. If we were to potentially let something demonic in, we’d fend it off with holy water while reciting words from the Bible. Besides, Oscar has the cross necklace and the cross tattoo. No ghost or demon is fucking with him. Although, I did hear that demons usually tend to possess people who are angry, upset, vulnerable. Not that Oscar is vulnerable, but he looks like he’s about to pop a vein half the time. He’s ground zero for a demonic possession.”

The car went dead silent. You bit your lip to keep from laughing or snickering. Jamal went silent because he thought Oscar would boot him out of the moving car. And Oscar went silent because he was now genuinely pondering if he’d get possessed. He saw The Conjuring, he saw what that shit did.

“Jamal.. maybe you shouldn’t say that to someone when we’re about to go and investigate a potentially haunted house.” You said, glancing over at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. The young teen, eyes wide, mouth in a nervous smile, nodded his head rapidly.

“Yeah, yeah. I mean just forget what I said, seriously. It’s probably factually incorrect. Besides, they’re just rumors, about the house being haunted and all. Although, the rumors and speculation have come from many people so I don’t think all those people would be making that shit up-“

“Jamal! Zip it!” You quickly said, not wanting Oscar to back out and end the ghost hunting trip before it even began.

“Yeah okay, shutting up.”

The drive to the house lasted about four to six minutes more. Soon, the impala came to a stop in front a decrepit, creepy two story house that had grass and weeds growing wild all over the place. The fence that was probably once white was now rusted. The house itself had paint that had chipped away overtime. Graffiti decorated the walls. Some gang tagging, some random names, random drawings, stuff of the sort. It was just as creepy as everyone had said. You couldn’t imagine what the inside was like.

“Okay, let’s do this, team.” Jamal opened the passenger side door, his backpack repacked with all of his supplies situated on his back. You turned and looked over at Oscar to find him with an apprehensive look on his face. You gave him a small smile.

“You’re seriously not afraid, are you? Everything will be fine. Come on.” You leaned in and pecked his lips before climbing out of the car. You shut the door behind you, the driver’s side door following suit. Oscar came up next to you and you immediately took his hand into your own and laced your fingers together. With Jamal leading the way, the two of you followed behind him past the rusted gates, up the dirt and overgrown grass covered path that led up the rickety front steps.

“Okay, how are we doing this? Are we splitting up? Sticking together?” You asked.

“We ain’t splittin’ up. We’re stickin’ together.” Oscar interjected before Jamal could say anything. Jamal suddenly whipped around, coming to a stop in front of you and Oscar. He shone the bright light into your faces and you and your boyfriend recoiled from the bright light. You held your hand up, pushing the flashlight away. The teen then held the flashlight underneath his chin, illuminating his face.

“I think we should split up. That way we could cover more ground.” He said, still illuminating his face. Oscar on the other hand, was not relenting, and you knew that even though he had said yes to you, it didn’t mean he’d agree to split up.

“This is non negotiable. We ain’t splittin’ up. You didn’t even bring enough flashlights for us, genius.” The older male pointed. Jamal switched the flashlight off and nodded his head.

“Okay good point. Fine, we’ll stick together.” He quickly pulled his backpack off and rummaged around, pulling out three items. “You, hold that.” He thrust the Bible into your hands. “And you, take this.” He handed Oscar the holy water. “Just in case. We need to be fully prepared and take precaution in case there already is some sort of demonic infestation.” He spoke, all the while pulling out the Digital thermometer and switching it on. Once he had it in hand, he situated the backpack on his back again, picked his flashlight up and switched it on.

“Let the ghost hunting commence.” Finally descending up the porch steps, Jamal came to a stop in front of the front door and you could see that the boy was actually starting to get nervous now. With his flashlight nestled between his arm and his side, he slowly twisted the doorknob with his hand and for a few seconds, you thought that it might’ve been locked, but the door opened. A few creaks were heard and it had the hairs on the back of your neck standing.

Jamal stepped into the house first. “Hello ghostly spirits that inhabit this home. We mean you no harm. We come in peace!” He belted out, announcing your presence.

“Oh fuck this. I ain’t goin’ in.” Oscar suddenly said, letting go of your hand, refusing to set foot inside the house. You and Jamal whirled around to face your skittish boyfriend.

“Are you serious? Are you really scared right now? Your name is Spooky! You run a gang but you’re scared of ghosts? Invisible beings?” Jamal asked, incredulously. Oscar clenched his jaw, eyebrows furrowing.

“Hey, this shit is scary! My tio from my mom’s side of the family got a ghost when he was two years old and he was never the same again. After that, he only walked backwards!”

“He was two! Maybe he just liked walking backwards!”

You shook your head at the bickering, a breathless chuckle leaving your lips - Oscar had told you countless time about his uncle that only walked backwards after he had been supposedly possessed, but each time you still found it amusing. Deciding not to waste time listening to the bickering of your boyfriend and actual teenager, you pushed past Jamal and into the house, taking the flashlight from him in the process.


“What the- What the hell? I am the appointed leader of this ghost hunting trio, I hold the flashlight and the thermometer.” Jamal finally snapped back to reality at your actions and he snatched the item back from you.

“Well, leader, if you and Oscar would stop fighting, maybe we could actually get some shit done. If something is here, I’m sure you two just woke it up with your loud ass voices.” You commented, shooting Oscar a look. “Baby, you promised.” You held your hand out, the hand not holding the Bible, out to him and he reluctantly took it, stepping into the house that would fuel his nightmares for days to come no doubt.

“See? That wasn’t so bad was it, Spooky? You walked into the house and did anything jump out at you or possess you? No!” Jamal sassed, pointing the flashlight at your seething but definitely frightened boyfriend. With teeth clenched, he looked at Jamal.

“If I get possessed, the first one I’m coming after is you.” He said. Jamal gaped, mouth open like a fish.

“Okay, okay! Stop, children. Let’s do this. Come on.” You snapped you fingers, lightly smacking Jamal with the Bible in your grip.

“Okay, yes. Let’s not get distracted from the mission.” Jamal whipped around, flashlight scanning around the empty but dusty, dirty room which appeared to be a living room. The entire house gave you eerie vibes. Despite the bickering going on mere moments ago, the hair on the back of your neck stood up, you could feel goosebumps rising on your skin.

“The temperature is the same. Oh wait, it dropped. Oh my god it dropped like one degree. Okay, something is definitely with us. We need to whip out the spirit box”

“Jamal, I don’t think that really tells us that anything is here.” You said, looping your arm through Oscar’s, finding comfort in the warmth he provided.

“You’re right. Let’s keep looking. Let’s go in here.” All three of you walked into what you assumed to be the living room, scanning around. The moonlight was creeping in from the busted windows, not leaving you entirely submerged in the dark which you appreciated.

“I’m gonna whip out the spirit box and see if we can make some contact.” Jamal kneeled down, rummaging through the backpack until he pulled out the spirit box. He set the thermometer down in the meantime, firing up the spirit box instead. It emitted this loud noise, almost like white noise you hear on a television when nothing is playing. Except it was loud and it definitely gave you the chills and the creeps.

“Hello spirits that may be present. I’m Jamal. That’s Oscar and Y/N.” He introduced.

“Why in the fuck are you using our names? What if they find us or some shit? I aint trynna have a ghost that knows my name.”

“Ignore the angry man. He’s terrified right now.” Jamal said, shooting a pointed look at Oscar. You gave his arm a squeeze glancing up at him.

“Relax baby. Everything is gonna be okay. Even if there is something here, I highly doubt that it’s bad.” You said, resting your head on his shoulder. He said nothing, just leaned down and kissed your temple.

“Is there anything or anyone here right now?” He asked. All three of you remained quiet, waiting with baited breath, waiting to hear if something actually responded back. But nothing came. And you didn’t know if you were relieved or disappointed.

“Is there anyone in the room with us?” Again nothing. “Is there anyone in this house besides us?”

“Up.” The three of you stood taller, eyes wide and alert, hearts hammering in your chest. At least your heart was beating erratically at that point, shocked that something actually responded.

“Uh.. can you.. can you say that again please..” Jamal’s voice quivered as he spoke, and mere seconds after he said it, the distorted, monotone voice was heard again.

“Up.”

“Up? Up.. What do you mean up?”

“Doll.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. It said doll. What the freak..” Jamal exclaimed, eyes wide.

“It said up and it said doll. It probably wants us to go upstairs. Come on.” You let go of Oscar’s arm, despite his protests, and rushed over to where the stairs were, using the moonlight as a guide. You hid behind the wall and listened as rushed footsteps hurried closer to you, Jamal murmuring about how you all agreed to stick together.

“Bebe, don’t fuckin’ go off like that in a house like this-“ But neither of the guys finished what they were saying, ranting, about. As soon as they had both rounded the corner, you jumped out from your hiding position and screamed, scaring them both.

Jamal let out a shrill yell, jumping back, while Oscar let out a very loud and audible fuck while jumping back as well. Meanwhile, you were laughing, hands on your knees, lips pulled back into a wide grin.

“Got ya asses! Pendejos.” You exclaimed, still laughing. Jamal was calming down, and Oscar looked just that bit more freaked out, glaring at you.

“Christ on a cracker woman! What the shit was that? You just can’t be sneaking up on people like that! Shit!” He exclaimed.

“I’ma get you back, just watch.” Oscar spoke. But of course, you didn’t take his threat seriously, and it wasn’t like you were actually scared. You knew he’d never hurt you, and he had been scared by you enough times to be used to it. But it never failed to make you laugh.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I had to. I wish I had a damn camera to take a picture of that.” You said, calming down. “So, are we going upstairs or what?” You asked, looking at the guys, hands on your hips.

“We are going up the stairs. And you, missy, better watch yourself.” He pointed his index and middle fingers at you before pushing past you to walk up the dusty stairs. You stood by Oscar’s side, wrapping an arm around him.

“Don’t be mad at me, babe. I had to do it. It was priceless.” You said. “I’ll make it up to you later.” You said in a softer voice.

“You fuckin’ better, Chiquita.”

With Jamal up ahead of you, he opened up the first door he came upon, shining the flashlight in the dark and decrepit room.

“Uh, guys.. I think I found the doll..” He spoke, creeping a little further into the room. You and Oscar followed behind Jamal, eyes wide and searching the empty room. Strewn on the floor, illuminated by the flashlight was a raggedy ann doll. It was torn up and covered in dust and dirt. The fact that it was just laying there was creepy as hell.

“I’m not liking this shit. Not one bit.” Jamal murmured, still pointing the flashlight at the doll, almost as if he were waiting for it to jump up. You sighed, removing your arm from around Oscar to walk closer to the doll.

“Jamal, this thing isn’t Chucky. It’s not gonna come to life and jump out at you.” You knelt down and picked the dirty doll up. One of the eyes was missing and the face was just as dirty as the rest of it. A sense of dread filled you when you did that.

“Uh.. Y/N, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. The original Annabelle doll, the one the movie is based off of, was a raggedy ann doll just like that one.” Fear had crept into Jamal’s voice.

“Hey, shh. Be quiet.” Oscar suddenly spoke up. The three of you went silent and listened. Coming from down below sounded like footsteps, like someone was walking around the house. They weren’t loud, but they were still audible. Goosebumps creeped up over your skin and you immediately let go of the doll, gravitating towards Oscar’s side. Sure, it was all fun and games until you actually started hearing shit.

“Someone’s here.” Your boyfriend said, on high alert now.

“Someone.. or something..” Jamal said. “Okay let’s go one last session with the spirit box and then get the hell out of here.” He said, firing up the box once more.

“How about we get the hell out of here now. I been on these streets a long time and I ain’t gonna die in this sucia ass house.” Oscar said, hands balled up, antsy and anxious to leave.

“You are not gonna die, Jesus Christ. Would you take a chill pill?” Jamal said. “Spirit, ghost, demon - whatever you are. We came upstairs and we found the doll. Are you here with us?”

“Jamal.” It said.

“Oh shit.” The boy in question said.

“Y/N.. Oscar.. Out.”

“Out.. it said out.”

None of you had the chance to say anything else because coming from what seemed like the next room over was a loud crash that sent the three of you jumping and reeling backwards.

“Okay, I know I scared you guys earlier but that wasn’t me. Holy shit, that was not me. What the fuck was that?” You asked, your voice taking on a more frightened tone, you hands clutching at Oscar’s arm.

“Fuck this.” Oscar reached into the waistband of his pants and pulled out a black gun he had tucked in there, for safety.

“You brought a gun?!” You and Jamal both said at the same time, both looking at your boyfriend incredulously. Oscar clutched the gun in his hand, looking over at the door as if he were expecting someone to burst in.

“I sure as fuck wasn’t comin’ out here naked.” He said, voice deep and husky.

“Well shit, what in the hell are bullets gonna do against a ghost? Nothing! Nada! There’s no use in that! You should’ve brought a water gun! Filled with holy water! I even supplied the holy water and you’re holding it!”

“Then maybe you should’ve brought the god damn water gun if you’re so-“ Oscar was cut off by the spirit box, which was still turned on, letting out a distorted ‘Get.. out..’ Which was promptly followed by a loud bang that sounded much closer. You and Jamal let out screams, and Oscar put the gun away and reached out to grab you, urgency in his movements. Meanwhile you reached out to Jamal, grabbing his arm and pulling him along with you.

“Okay, we’re leaving. Now!” Neither you or Jamal protested. Instead the three of you hightailed it the fuck down those stairs as if your asses were on fire, the three of you too freaked out to even consider staying any longer. When you reached the bottom level of the house, there was no sign of anyone being down there. It wasn’t like there was many places a person could hide given the minimal amount of furniture.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, another loud crash which sounded a lot like a door slamming shut, came from above, prompting you all to run even faster towards the front door. Oscar pulled it open, the door slamming and bouncing against the wall from the sheer force of your boyfriend’s actions. The three of you ran down the porch steps, down the path and to his car.

You pulled the door open and practically flew inside the car while Jamal and Oscar quickly followed suit and climbed in. There wasn’t a second’s hesitation as Oscar turned the key in the ignition and started the vehicle, making quick work and pulling away from the curb and driving away from the house.

His hands were clenching the steering wheel so tight you could see his skin s starting to turn white. Meanwhile your heart was thundering so loud in your chest you could hear it in your ears and you wouldn’t be surprised if Oscar and Jamal could hear it too. The boy beside you was panting, breathing heavily, eyes wide.

“Holy shit balls.” He finally broke the silence that had fallen the three of you as Oscar went well past over the speed limit to try and get away from that house. “There are ghosts in that house. It is haunted. There is something there. And we witnessed it. Holy shit, team. We did it!” He exclaimed, looking at you and Oscar.

“Yeah we did. We probably got a fucking ghost.” Oscar said, briefly looking at Jamal.

“Well.. my money’s on Y/N. She’s the one that picked up the doll after all.” This time it was your turn to glare at Jamal.

“Jamal! Callate!” You said. Oscar, from beside you, let out a deep laugh.

“Come on baby. Don’t be scared.” You knew he teasing you, you could just hear it in his voice. And when you looked back at him, he wore that damn smirk on his face. You scowled at your boyfriend, arms crossing over your chest. “Don’t be scared. You wanted to come and ghost hunt.” He said, driving to Jamal’s house to drop him off. “Keep that same energy.”

“Just like you said to Jamal - if I get possessed, the first one I’m coming after is you, mi amor.” You threw at him, a sickly sweet smile on your face.

“Okay in all seriousness - I heard that there was another supposedly haunted house a few miles from here. When do you guys wanna go and explore that one? Next week? Friday? Satur-“

“How about never. We ain’t doin’ that shit again. You can go by yourself next time, homie.”

[chaoslordjoe]

RWBY - Do I Ship It #2? Ruby Rose

I’ve decided to continue this whole shebang with going over ships for individual characters each time. And for this one, we’re looking at our favorite cooking-deepthroating reaper, Ruby Rose...That may be one of my favorite character descriptions I’ve ever typed.

With introductions outta the way, let’s talk some Ruby ships.

White Rose

kinda leaves me indifferent?

overrated

would read a fic about it

Ideally, White Rose has become one of those ships that half of the FNDM loves to hate. But me, I’m not as triggered by it, let alone nowhere near as angered by it’s presence simply because it’s not Bumbleby.

Unlike BB, in which it’s presence makes me wanna slug my screen every time I see a comment thread screeching high praise about it, I can look at White Rose and just be more like: “Eh. It’s okay.” Simply because I have seen WR content that I enjoy, and that at least many WR shippers know when to shut up when they’re called out unlike Wasps.

Really, a lot of the content has a lot heart put into it to where I really can’t get mad at it. I know it’s a WLW ship. I know that’s become a thing to generally hate among RWBY fans. But I do think that WR is the lesser of two evils between that and BB not because I have a lot of friends who ship it, but because I think folks crap on it way too much compared to the demon that BB has become.

Am I saying there aren’t toxic WR fans still around? Hell no. They need to be called out on it, too. But I’m also generally more relaxed about the ship. Nothing major really.

Ladybug

I SHIP IT

CUTENESS OVERLOAD

underrated

hELL YES

Ladybug has become a recent addition to my ship list a while back. But I’ve fallen head over heels for it in such a short amount of time.

Even many folks I’ve spoken to who tend to gag at the mention of WLW ships in a fandom as egregious as RWBY’s agree that the Bugs are really harmless given soft the content of this ship often is. I’m not saying that Ladybug is all “wee-hee-we’re-a-couple-of-happy-go-lucky-dorks” because that would make it unoriginal and boring to read in many cases.

No, the reason I’ve grown to adore Ladybug so much is because I’m one of those who parrots how much of a missed opportunity (like the show is as a frigging whole) how many interactions there could be between Ruby and Blake.

Why wouldn’t they? They’re both into fantasy stories, both have darkened color schemes, and share some general views on why they fight. Really, Ladybug is just a good way for me to fill the void of just how much Rooster Teeth doesn’t give a fuck about how to organize their characters properly?

Volume 5 gets Freezerburn, and not onwards? Come on, RT.

But before I end up turning this into a rwde post, let’s just move onto the next ship.

Nuts & Dolts

I SHIP IT

CUTENESS OVERLOAD

Soulmates

I WOULD DIE FOR IT OKAY

Yeah this one was pretty obvious. But who cares?! I frigging adore Nuts & Dolts.

Let me just be clear in saying that I can ship it platonically/romantically, simply because I love the bond that Ruby and Penny share. They’re both hyperactive, kindhearted and strong-willed girls with a penchant for bladed weaponry and wanting to make the world a better place for everyone.

This initially made N&D into a guilty pleasure ship for me. But over time, I just couldn’t resist or get mad at it because I love how soft it feels. Same reason as Ladybug for the most part. But overall, I like N&D because of just how much soul there is between two people who were born differently with a set of powers that aren’t what you’d call “ordinary”.

As someone who’s been called “unique” or other labels with the disability I have, I usually find it very pretentious and downright grating to see stories that are supposed to be uplifting about being born in a different manner because that can be really damn annoying after a while.

Yeah, stuff like disability or other stuff is under-represented in pop culture. But often it’s portrayed in a very “Hollywood” fashion even if it’s not a work from that culture and work mindset.

I’m not saying N&D is one of those “unique” portrayals, but as something that shows what happens when two saviors who wanted a normal life have someone in each other that they can trust and even love for their shared experiences of being born differently.

Which is why I’ve grown to accept Ruby and Penny as the popular fan portrayal of being girlfriends or platonic friends. They have so much in common, which makes it that much more endearing for me personally.

Okay. Those are some Ruby/Other girl ships outta the way. Now let’s discuss some Ruby/guy ships...Here’s where it gets a little odd.

Lancaster

BROTP

overrated

no thanks

Oh boy. I’m probably gonna get some flak for this entry...

Let me just be clear that this is a post that is NOT meant to attack any particular shippers. This is me stating what I feel about certain ships and me occasionally talking about how I think they would turn out. 

It’s not my headcanon interpretations, per se. But instead it’s more how I picture it based on my experience with viewing relationships in my own life before I started discussing fandom ships.

Now that I have that out of the way, let’s discuss Ruby/Jaune.

When I first started watching RWBY, my first ship, like many others was Arkos (more on that when I cover Jaune). I felt that Pyrrha was just the right fit for a lovable dweeb like him with how it helped kick-start his character development and the framework for how he would improve himself overall.

Granted, I wasn’t really expecting Arkos to be canon since Pyrrha had died in V3. It was a tragic outcome for a ship that had so much buildup. And most of the FNDM agreed that Jaune needed a hug along with his friends to help him through it.

When I started to hear about the fact that Jaune was shipped with other girls in the main cast, I wasn’t really shocked since White Knight was already fairly popular. But when I found out about Lancaster, it was like: “Wait a second, people actually ship him with Ruby?”

Was more confusion than astonishment, to be honest. I didn’t really think that it would’ve been fitting despite how close and similar both team leaders were. But I decided to bite the bullet and give it a try with reading a couple of Lancaster works.

I got bored.

I’m not so much angry whenever I hear about Lancaster as I am just not impressed by how much fanon works recycle many tropes and plot elements.

Ruby is secretly in love with Jaune.

Jaune does something adorkable or manly which attracts Ruby.

Ruby makes/attempts to make a move on him with some crazy or titillating way that, while in-character for her, has been repeated one times too many in this or other ships featuring her.

Jaune is generally being a good boi throughout. I like Jaune, but I feel that he’s put in too many fanfics in which he’s overly good and pure. Again. It’s fitting for him, but sometimes a bit of difference in fan interpretation is nice. Make him angry, have him lash out at his friends at times. Just don’t make him a “perfect” boyfriend.

Both dorks often have to hide their relationship because of the possibility of Pyrrha being jealous, Yang going apeshit, or other characters reacting the way they do which is often buzzwords in a fic like that.

Lancaster shippers, I am not attacking you since this is your thing. If so, fine. But it’s not mine as I am giving an attempt to give constructive criticism about some of the ships listed here while talking about ships I like to make these posts all about even ground.

I prefer to see Ruby and Jaune as besties. Hell. I prefer to see them more like siblings considering how much Jaune acted like a big brother to Ruby on the road to Mistral with how Yang was bedridden with depression in V4. I also think that Jaune needs a friend right now rather than a love interest. The same could be said for a lot of characters right now, but that’s a different topic.

My biggest criticism for LC is that while I understand the similarities that they share, it’s the whole “opposite-gender-leads-fall-in-love” trope. This trope can be done right *coughRENORAcough* but is put in so many works that I’m not one of those fans who’s impressed with it.

The ship isn’t original, but it’s nothing to make me wanna rage-post like I’m Keemstar on Red Bull or the like. And I know people who are into it, to which I tell them: Good for all of you. It’s simply not my cup of tea.

Rosegarden

would read a fic about it

meh

not really my thing

Oh god, how I wish it wasn’t harvest season!

Kidding. Kidding. Rosegarden is legit, and all my friends in the group who ship it are wonderful people.

Another ship that I can’t really get angry at since compared to other ships that cover things like young love or ships of people who were born differently (see my Nuts & Dolts entry), RG is pretty fucking harmless and I can tolerate it more even though I’m not into it.

While I understand why it seems hypocritical of me to share and repost stuff related to RG on occasion, this is simply because I have reason to share it based on how much I’ve interacted with shippers and how I’ve actually had productive discussions with them outside of their ship.

It’s the community which I like more than the ship because of how much more chill they are. But there’s also a big reason why I know that some people crap on this one.

Ozpin.

Dude, if I had a Dollar for every “RG-is-pedophilia-because-Oscar-is-Ozpin’s-puppet” fallacy that was posted I wouldn’t be needing a stimulus check. Let me explain to y’all why that’s bullshit.

(RWDE mode online)

Is Ozpin eons of years old? Yes. He’s from Humanity 1.0 and was thrown into the bodies of men in the modern world in his war against Salem. It’s a rough situation with a lot of baggage to any relationship he puts up or wishes to even build-up and I don’t think it should be swept under the rug because there’s a lot of stuff that should be brought up about the guy.

Is Ozpin intervening on any potential interaction between Ruby and Oscar? No. Canon or no, Oz has been a neutral party in whatever interactions the two kids have because it’s not really his business. Do you honestly believe that if Ozpin would be the kind to boss his host around that he would attempt to butt in on their friendship?

As an Oz critic, I can say that while I understand both interactions, I draw the line at this ship being considered pedophilia.

I mean, come on! The FNDM ships Ruby with villains like Roman, Cinder and Salem, who are adults when she’s a teenager! And suddenly it’s okay to claim pedophilia just because Ozpin is present?! ARE YOU HIGH?

If we’re going with that logic, fine, just have Ozpin ascend from his brain after Salem is 86′d, THEN we can have a development in RG’s friendship whether it’s romantic or not. But leave the fans of this pairing out of it!

(RWDE mode offline)

The reason I don’t ship Rosegarden is because I’m not a fan of the whole “young love” trope either. I wouldn’t mind it so much if Oscar wasn’t relegated to a support role due to being an Oz host and he had more screen time rather than the old wizard.

Maybe I’m just too cynical about stuff like this to really care. But the point is, I can’t get mad at this ship either and I’m willing to read up on it in small doses.

Strawbana

I ship it

CUTENESS OVERLOAD

the sexiest pair

we need more of it

underrated

Sun Wukong, you magnificent monkey bastard! You always seem to brighten my day whenever I’m looking through critical discussions related to this show.

Much as I love BlackSun, I’m definietly curious to learn more about other ships involving my homeboy here. Solar Flare, I also like. But Sun/Ruby? Thank you sir, may I have another!

Ugh. Can’t believe I just quoted Animal House to describe my love for this painfully underrated ship. Somebody get me some soap...

Other than their VAs being married in real life, I like Strawbana/Red Sun the same reason as Nuts & Dolts with this being a ship that features two extremely upbeat characters finding love in one another with just how much they kick ass for the reasons of just being good people.

Kinda/sorta the only straight Ruby ship I’m into just because of how much they could rub off on one another, and how much I’d love to see them interact more in canon material. Not just the show but any other tie-in stuff.

Next time, we cover Weissu.

[flowers-in-your-dustbin]

All the numbers again (second tag reblog)

1: When you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? More milk than cereal cause I like to drink it!

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? Yeah, but when I can get into the warmth after that's even better!

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? I try to remember the page number instead so usually end on a multiple of 10 or 5.

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? Tea: Two sugars, milk, hopefully brewed by the gal. Coffee: I don’t!

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? Kinda!

6: do you keep plants? Nope!

7: do you name your plants? None to name!

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? Oils if I had the money for that so typically watercolours

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? I am right now.

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? Typically side, but back is fine. Not stomach really!

11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? Oh My Gouda.

12: what's your favorite planet? Uranus ;)

13: what's something that made you smile today? My gal surprised me with a beautiful orchid

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? Edgy expose brick aesthetic

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! Uranus’ blue glow is due to an abundance of methane which filters out red light.

16: what's your favorite pasta dish? Spaghetti carbonara probs! Especially cooked by the best.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? I don’t! I did want pastel pink in August.

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. I had a paddy fit in primary school because I used to always sabotage my meals so I didn't eat them but I spilt milk on something I legitimately didn’t mind having... I cried over spilt milk.

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? I do! I write the days events and my feelings, I draw key points or little objects. Not all the time tho.

20: what's your favorite eye color? A nice hazel-y to chocolate amber brown woop

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. A grey Kanken Fjallraven, if Switzerland counts as hell, there you have it.

22: are you a morning person? Yeah! I’m straight too!

23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? Exactly that, nothing. With a side of music.

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? Only the one.

25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? An abandoned slaughterhouse. Soz vegans

26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? Black old skool vans hehe original

27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? Strawberry!

28: sunrise or sunset? Why not both in a day?

29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? I’m not sure!

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? I’m not sure, close calls/

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. I like socks. Weird socks are fun. So are odd ones. I do not sleep with my socks, nor do I confine myself to white sock hell.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. We had deep convos for the time, we probs cried, then probs went to sleep.

33: what's your fave pastry? Uh choux just cause I can remember that is one. Hahahaha.

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? I had one called Baxter Bear which was the best, he was quite obviously a bear with a red scarf and his own passport. I threw up on him in the car and he was never the same again, he disappeared short after. Don’t ask about Scrubs the dog.

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? I do, I just don't use them often.

36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? The xx

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? A healthy middle.

38: tell us about your pet peeves! Couldn’t possibly. There’s a fair few.

39: what color do you wear the most? Probably black? Emo ik.

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? I own a necklace I got for my 16th its very cute and only comes out when I have heterosexual days to masquerade it. It’s nice.

41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde, it’s my favourite ever. I don’t read as much as I used to, sigh.

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! There’s a cute local one. They do unreal Nutella pancakes and its quite central and very aesthetic-y. Yum!

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? My gal, typically on the way to my car where I point out Orion or The Dipper. It’d be nice to do it properly sometime.

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? Two days ago.

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? When I need to.

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. Someone mentions a dog, then I normally incorporate the word ‘ruff’ as a homophone for ‘rough’ and get death stares. But I like it.

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? Gherkins.

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? Abandonment/loneliness hahahah yes it is.

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? I do like buying records yeah! I can’t say until April the 23rd but I’ll have bought another by then.

50: what's an odd thing you collect? I don’t think I do have anything odd!

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? Uncomfortable by Wallows, as well as Fast Food by D.I.D and many many more.

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? The new Patrick one is doing pretty good.

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? Nope, nope, nope and nope!

54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? My dog. I didn't walk him.

55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? Hahahah you wouldn’t want to know. 

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? Feeling secure with them, if you get me.

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? CAN YOU DO THE FANDANGO!?!?!

58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? K is probs the wine mom bc I'd say A but she’s not as sensible, thus A gets the Aunt role.

59: what's your favorite myth? Bulls hate red, they’re actually colour blind lmao.

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? I don’t mind a bit of poetry! Marking Time by Owen Sheers is noice.

61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? Me and mum put a fancy brooch in a pack of digestives for someone. I’ve received stupid spellings of my name on the birthday cards.

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? Nope

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? Rainbow order woop.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? Black.

65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? Yep!

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? Cutesy and white and blue and stuff idk. But I wouldn't wear one haha.

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? Serene! Albeit Silent Hill-esque

68: what's winter like where you live? Fun! Cold! Disruptive!

69: what are your favorite board games? The Game of Life/Monopoly/Articulate!

70: have you ever used a ouija board? Nope!

71: what's your favorite kind of tea? English Breakfast, brewed by the girlfriend.

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? I've been known to be.

73: what are some of your worst habits? Overthinking. Nail biting.

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. Ginger.

75: tell us about your pets! A doggo! A beagle! and a fish...

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? Revising!

77: pink or yellow lemonade? Yellow

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? anyone in the fanclub needs natural selection to do its thing.

79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? Surprised me at work with flowers.

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? White, because I’d like grey but we haven’t got there yet or painted the house since its still pretty new.

81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. I don't have the time for that shit.

82: are/were you good in school? I was! I still think I am! Who knows.

83: what's some of your favorite album art? Smithsmithsmithsmithsmiths

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? Yeah! Quite a few. All tonal, but above all a Venus sign and more importantly the great wave off Kanazawa by Hokusai

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? I don't fun fact I used to read them start to feel sick.

86: do you like concept albums? which ones? I feel stupid for not knowing what they are.

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? Donnie Darko.

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? Not Gothic. Can’t go wrong with a bit of impressionism.

89: are you close to your parents? I think. Depends on the time of day.

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. Starts with E, ends in Dinburgh.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? Nowhere abroad really, just a couple of good cities.

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? Barely sprinkles, but I have a drowner with me to compensate.

93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? Down. Full stop. 

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? My girlfriend’s. mum!

95: what are your plans for this weekend? Work, a party, a Harry Potter film, a sad Sunday.

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? I leave them for as long as possible

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? ENFJ/Pisces/Ravenclaw

98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? Hah idk.

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. Nude - Radiohead is the one I’m thinking at the mo’ and I can’t think past that.

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? Future. Don’t need to lament on the past when I hope I have a good one ahead of me. Then from there I'd click 5 back so I’m right back to where I am, cheers.

[tameila]

a little party never hurt nobody.

Characters/Pairings: Oscar, Audrey, and friends! with brief Cullen/Audrey

Summary: [~2800 words] Oscar just wants his cousin to take one night off from working.

Notes: a birthday present for Kimmie (@mythalsfavour)!! I hope you had a wonderful day, lovely!! 😘💕✨

Oscar appreciated his cousins' presence at Skyhold. He really did.

Gunnar's songs and stories kept the troops inspired and had the staff singing through their work, and, in a pinch, his magical prowess torn forces asunder. Not to mention, Lady warmed her way into everyone's hearts with little to no effort, as was her way. She always sat at the gates when scouting parties returned, whether Oscar was with them or not, as an unofficial welcoming committee. Her person was never far away, strumming his lute or humming a tune.

 Even-tempered Jenny, with her healing skills and nurturing nature, saved as many lives as her dear siblings and cousin often took. It would seem that it ran in the Trevelyan blood to be foolhardy, but Jenny reined them in, kept them alive, even if only by guilting them into it by merely existing. In every way, she was born to be the one that others dreamed to come home to, equal measures warm and stern. Disappointing Jenny remained firmly at the bottom of any lists of 'acceptable consequences'.

 Then, there was Audrey. She possessed neither the charismatic gravity of her brother nor the gentle manners of her sister. She was a highborn lady. The Orlesian blood on her mother's side shown through when the time called for propriety - words wielded as sharp as her sword. Yet, at the same time, she rejected every inch of her noble blood, refused to take a tilted rank in the Inquisition army without first proving her worth and Oscar once watched her reset her nose after a particularly grueling fight; she did not flinch nor shed more than the usual, involuntary tears as if she had done it before, and Oscar tried not to think of any situation before then where she must have. She was relentless, hard working, and efficient. Sometimes he swore that Audrey got more done in a couple hours than he could manage in a couple days. Sometimes because she preemptively completed his work for him.

 As she was doing right now.

 Oscar trudged up the stairs to his room, stopping short at the sight of his cousin, hunched over his desk, writing furiously.

 "Please, dear cousin, come in! Make yourself comfortable! Did you pick the lock again or simply argue it into submission?"

 The corners of Audrey's lips curled, but she kept writing. "You tease me now, but give me a minute to finish this letter and I think you'll find your mood shifting," she said, casting him her cheeky smile.

 "Which letter would this be?" Oscar asked, taking his time in crossing the room. He removed the weight of his robes that he did not need anymore, casting pieces of armor onto the back of the couch as he passed.

 "The one that Josie has been requesting you write to Empress Celene for days now. Oh - I've also finished that report Leliana wanted. Do you know that you've had Leliana waiting for it for two weeks?"

 "I've been in The Hinterlands!"

 "Excuses, excuses," Audrey sang, eye alight as she waved the quill at him. "So unbecoming of you, Your Worship!"

 "Yeah, yeah," he relented, rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in mock surrender. Audrey laughed, and as Oscar came up to stand before the desk, he could see now that she may be working on one letter, but there was already a pile of more to her left. Did she find his to-write list? He chuckled as he continued,"Well, sometimes I feel as if it's you leading this Inquisition, not me."

 Audrey flushed, dropping her gaze and her quill in a quick, fumbled movement. "I did not mean to overstep," she defended, haughty even in this moment of apology. With all the grace expected of a lady of her noble upbringing, she stood from behind the desk, shoulders drawn into a tight line and chin high, and gestured for him to take the vacated seat. "Please. Take a moment at least to see what I have written up, and I promise my overstep will not appear so dire."

 "Audrey, dear cousin," Oscar laughed,"I'm only teasing you. I assure you - I had no intention of accusing you of usurping me. You know I appreciate everything you do here."

 "Oh." Audrey's shoulders dropped with a blink. "In that case," she preened, that pleased smile of hers returning,"give me a moment to finish my thoughts - "

 "Wait!" Oscar raised a hand towards her, and Audrey paused, already halfway back into the chair. "That - is also not quite what I meant...You know that you do not have to do all this work, right?"

 Audrey's brow scrunched. "I'm...not sure what you mean...."

 "You are a Lieutenant, Audrey, a valued member of my army. The work you do with Cullen is invaluable, yet you still do more. You run errands for my advisors, though they already have messengers. You take time to walk among the troops; you bring my attention to the needs of my people that I would have otherwise missed. You - " He gestured to the letter now. "You write my letters! Do you never take time for yourself?"

 Again, Audrey flushed. "I promise you, cousin, I am not overextending myself. I am happiest when I am working."

 "You are happy when you feel useful," Oscar quipped.

 Audrey's cheeks shaded bright red, and the set of her jaw tightened. "Is that so wrong?"

 "Not at all, but you deserve a break. I promise Skyhold will not fall apart if you take an evening for yourself," Oscar said, gentler now. Reaching across the desk, he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She tensed at the contact, and the fire in her eyes remained stubbornly alight, but he could see that she was listening to him, or trying to at least. "Trust me - I'm the Inquisitor. The fate of the entire world rests in the palm of my glowing hand, and yet I can still sit at the tavern for an hour and....Look at that! The sky still stands!"

 Audrey turned to look out the balcony windows, as if double-checking his words. When she returned her gaze to his, Oscar smiled reassuringly until her shoulders sagged and she relented.

 "Alright."

 "Alright?"

 "Let's go to the tavern."

 Oscar grinned and used the hand on her shoulder to lead her from behind the desk. He needed to move fast or her resolve might waver in the mere presence of his unfinished reports. "Do not worry, cousin. I shall show you the intricacies of having a drink at The Herald's Rest. Just give me a moment to change into some different robes, and we can - "

 "Perfect. That'll give me enough time to finish this le - "

 "Audrey, put down the pen!"

 --

 “This is weird. Is this weird for you? I feel weird.”

 “Just relax,” Oscar urged, but Audrey sighed and stared wistfully towards the door.

 Probably hoping for some fun to walk through it.

 Oscar could relate.

 He’d hoped that Gunnar or anyone would be here, but as it turns out, he chose the worst night to succeed in convincing Audrey to relax. The Herald’s Rest was a ghost town. A new letter had arrived from Nevarra for Gunnar, and he was apparently holed up in his room, waxing poetry in his response. Even Iron Bull and his Chargers were notably absent.  The few patrons that tarried were either well into their cups or own conversations to pay the pair too much mind.

 Still, Oscar remained optimistic. He was resourceful, as mages often are. You don’t live nearly two decades in a tower and not know how to make fun out of what you’re given. All mages know that! Well, that and that fireball is an area spell, Oscar, and not meant to be cast on a candle 3 feet from you.

 Hm, actually, that might have just been him.

 “Is the tavern always like this?” Audrey whispered to Oscar, leaning into his shoulder and pulling him back to the moment before he could remember any more embarrassing childhood memories. “Is this fun? Am I supposed to be having fun right now?”

 Oscar leveled her with a withering look, and Audrey giggled and hid her grin behind her stein. “I’m sorry, dear cousin, is my company not fun enough for you?”

 “Of course, you are right, dearest cousin. Allow me to change my demeanor to better display the fun that I feel I am having,” Audrey said. She breathed deep, prepared herself, and then – returned to her original posture. After a truly amateurish amount of time, she casted Oscar a devious look out of the corner of her eye to see if her joke landed.

 It did.

 “Truly. You have wounded me, my most dearest cousin,” Oscar deadpanned, but the corner of his lips twitched despite his best efforts. ”I may never recover from this offense.”

 Audrey laughed then, outright and bright. Oscar preened. See – the night was not yet ruined! He should have expected that Audrey enjoyed banter. She was a Trevelyan, after all. A need to be witty ran in their blood. Now, to keep this up, all he needed was some backup and – Ah!

 Oscar perked up as a familiar set of horns walked through the doors.

 “Iron Bull! – “

 Audrey’s demeanor shifted as well, but not in the way Oscar wanted. “Oh, good! I need to tell him that – “

 “No. No working.”

 Audrey huffed and leaned back in her chair while Oscar waved Iron Bull over to their table.

 “How’s it going, Boss?” Iron Bull tipped his head to Oscar before he turned to Audrey and did the same. “Other Boss.”

 Audrey beamed at the nickname, glancing from Iron Bull to Oscar, as if showing it off to him. See – even the people appreciate my work, Oscar! That’s what that smile said, and Oscar felt the corners of his lips curl up as a thought came to him.

 Of course.

 Now, that was an idea.

 Standing up from his seat, Oscar waved towards it. “Bull! So glad to see you could make it in time.” Like a true Ben-hassrath, not a single flicker of confusion crossed Iron Bull’s face. “I hope you don’t mind getting the party started while I check in with the others about the, you know – ” He leaned in closer to Iron Bull and stage whispered, “surprise.”

 “Party? Surprise?” Audrey said at the same time Bull guffawed:

 “Of course, Boss! Leave it to The Chargers. Krem’s opening a cask out back right now.”

 Audrey sputtered in confusion (“Oscar? What surprise, Oscar?”), but Oscar simply clasped Bull on the arm, cast him a quick wink, and bustled out the tavern door.

 --

 Oscar found Cullen exactly where he expected to find someone so enamored with his workaholic cousin: In his office. Working.

 “Inquisitor, what do I owe – ” Cullen started, half-risen from his seat to greet him.

 “No time! You like my cousin, Audrey, right?” Cullen blushed and sputtered, so Oscar continued, “Good! Go to the tavern. We’re having an Audrey Appreciation Night.”

 --

 Oscar found Dorian in his alcove in the library, nose deep in a book, as usual.

 “You up for a drink?”

 Dorian smiled, sliding a page maker into the binding of the tome. “With you, amatus? Always.”

 “Flatterer. I must warn we will have company, though. I’m throwing a party for my cousin.”

 “Oh – Which one? I do hope it’s Audrey. I quite like her, you know. Did you see her work at The Winter Palace?” Dorian shook his head, chuckling. “Devastating.”

 “What did Audrey do at The Winter Palace?” Oscar put up a hand. “Wait – Don’t tell me! Save it for the tavern. In fact - prepare a speech! You’ll need to meet me there; I have to pick up someone else.”

 “Did you leave her there by herself?” Dorian asked as he rose from his seat. There was a curious arch to his brow, not worried but intrigued, and Oscar could only begin to consider what he was imagining.

 “Hardly. Iron Bull is keeping her company, and Cullen should be there by now.”

 “Amatus…,” Dorian sighed dramatically. “That’s worse.”

 --

 Oscar arrived at Jenny’s room but she’d already turned in for the night (or so he assumed from the lack of an answer), so he continued right along to the next room and knocked.

 “Gunnar!” He called. “Put down the quill, cousin, we’re having a party for Audrey at the tavern!”

 Silence followed by rummaging followed by a muffled curse as the door flew open and Gunnar stood before him, Lady draped casually over his shoulders, and a lute in his hand. “Party?” He asked breathlessly, grin widening as Oscar nodded. “Great! Here – Hold this, I need to, get something…”

 Oscar chuckled as the lute was placed into his hands, and Gunnar hurried back into his room and awkwardly gathered up his portable writing desk, papers and quill along with it. “I’m almost done with my letter to Summer. I received one from her today, you know, and I do not want her to wait too long for my reply,” Gunnar explained as he cautiously made his way back to the doorway. Lady still happily curled around his neck, not the least bit perturbed by the constant jostling and oddity of her position. Oscar could only stare in amused amazement as Gunnar winked, shuffled past him, and scuttled down the hall. “I’ll write once everyone’s too drunk to realize I’m not playing music anymore…Hey – Come on, come on! I wrote a new song that I need opinions on. I want to send the sheet music to Summer. If it’s good!”

 Oscar took a moment to watch his cousin, still maneuvering his way down the hall, and shook his head. Understanding Gunnar’s whims would take the fun out of them, so he placed the lute over one shoulder and jogged to catch up.

 --

 Oscar was not sure what he expected to find when he came back to the tavern but he’s sure it was not this:

 The Herald’s Rest was packed, wall-to-wall, with people. A good majority of them were foot soldiers, chattering and sloshing drinks as they all gathered around something in the center of the room. Oscar’s vision was too obscured to get any idea of what it might be. He turned towards Gunnar to gather his opinion, but just as he did, The Chargers grabbed Gunnar and the lute from Oscar’s hands, urging the bard to play ‘The Chargers’ ABCs’ and leaving Oscar to stare after them, dumbfounded.

 They all sounded quite tipsy already.

 Had he really been gone that long?

 As Oscar skirted around the crowd, he took stock of who else somehow found their way to the tavern: Jenny was seated at a table with Josie and Leliana, their heads bowed together as they giggled about something; Sera snuck a pie off the bar counter and shushed Oscar when she saw him looking; and even Cole perched on the stairs, watching whatever was happening in the center of the room.

 Right – he needed to get in on that!

 As he neared, soldiers parting respectfully in his wake, a grand cheer went up from the epicenter of the group and he quickened his pace.

 The scene he found was – interesting.

 There was a table.

 Audrey on one side and Cullen on the other.

 Their elbows rested on the surface, their hands were clasped, and – Well, Oscar felt his eyebrows lift and his lips tremble as he did his best to hold back his amusement.

 It was an arm wrestling contest.

 Between them, on the far side of the table, Dorian sat, chin rested on top of his templed fingers.

 Their eyes met, and Dorian smiled and gave a waggle of his fingers.

 Audrey, distracted by the movement, glanced sidelong at Oscar before zeroing back in on Cullen, a wicked curl pulling up the corner of her lips. Oscar could see that her arm had begun to shake and tilt towards the table; Cullen would win.

 Would have won.

 If Audrey hadn’t taken Cullen’s own distraction upon seeing Oscar to jump out of her seat, lean across the table, and kiss him square on the mouth – much to the troop’s joy, if the resulting cheer was anything to go by, and Cullen’s surprise; Audrey slammed his arm into the table while he sputtered.

 “Oscar!” Audrey exclaimed, leaving Cullen to figure out what just happened and throwing herself into Oscar’s arms. “Dear cousin, the best cousin, the only cousin I claim!” She squeezed him tight, giggling. “I can’t believe you planned all this!”

 “Yep – I did that,” Oscar laughed breathily. Wow – he would have thought that all that arm wrestling might tire her arm grip a bit, but nope.

 “Now, come on, you’re up next. Cullen’s gonna need a moment or ten to think.”

 “You’re on, cousin!”

 Dorian was the judge, so Oscar liked his odds.

 (He lost.)