#so many fake professionals that put 'doctor' in front of their name but literally nothing comes up when you google them except their tiktok | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

omniswords · 5 years ago

Note

#24 for felinette!!!!!!!! 🗣

24. Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer.

leave me a pairing and a number and i’ll write you a kiss!

ma’am i stayed up until 4am writing this nonsense, you’re WELCOME.

still connected to #12 and #16 because we love fake not-dating-shenanigans 😏

He’s really got to stop ending up at functions like this. And this one has to be even worse than the New Year’s Eve party.

Félix has never been one for anniversaries—never really saw the significance of them. So you’ve gone around the sun with someone twenty-five goddamn times. Or without someone for six. So what? No reason to commemorate it with the nonsense of balloons and music and food and… other people.

He wouldn’t say he’s spent the majority of the Bourgeois’ 25th anniversary party sulking, although he’s pretty sure it’s the word other people might use to describe him. Especially Mr. and Mrs. Bourgeois themselves, who are apparently bickering over the placement of the baby grand piano as though something like that can be fixed in the middle of an event. And especially Chloé, who—perfectly on brand, even at age twenty—is fawning over her mother and staring at him as if to say, don’t ruin this for me.

As though this is her thing to have ruined.

Besides. He’s not sulking. He’s just very much preferring to be literally anywhere else, the way anyone else with a brain might feel. In fact, the only part of this whole affair that’s been even remotely palatable is the fact that the Dupain-Cheng family is catering. And it’s not because of the food.

Well.

Not necessarily.

It’s because Marinette’s helping. And as much as he needs to keep the opinion to himself, she’s very much a sight for sore eyes in the Grand Paris. Dressed in a black-and-white dress she mentioned making herself, and with her hair in a high ponytail, she pays more attention to her parents and the platters on the table in front of her than to the overly dignified laughter around her.

Admittedly, they haven’t been able to interact much; they agreed on that much as recently as the night before, along with a promise to make up the lost quality time later. This is her summer job, after all, and she says that means something to her. Besides, he has to make himself a certain percent sociable—with the Bourgeois family, with the Tsurugis, even with the Rossis—so everyone and their cousin doesn’t write him off as the Fitzwilliam Darcy of the Agreste/Graham de Vanily family.

(He doesn’t see what the big deal of that is, though. In fact, Marinette would probably agree with him, with that silly little giggle of hers hiding behind her sketchbook, and he’d think, perhaps, that she’d make the perfect Elizabeth.)

Still, it doesn’t sit with him particularly well to ignore her or otherwise treat her just like “the help”—if there’s anything his parents taught him besides their version of love, it’s to thank and remember the names of every person regardless of position. And on top of that, she’s been stealing more than her fair share of glances over at him, as if to invite him over. As if, for a moment or two, she might need some reprieve of her own.

He won’t tell anyone what a sucker he is for the blue in her eyes. He’ll take that to his grave.

It’s just as Félix is getting to his feet and making his way to her table, though, that Lila Rossi decides to try and make herself known. Again. He sighs; he really thought she would have gotten the hint by now. But apparently Lila is nothing if not persistent, even years later, and the way she greets him and all but latches onto his arm is so disgustingly syrupy that he feels the sudden urge to run upstairs and brush his teeth. “Isn’t it lovely?” she says, her fingers curling impossibly tight into the sleeve of his button-up shirt. “Twenty-five years. Can you imagine being invested in someone for so long? It must be beautiful…”

Félix declines to answer, feels his own eyes going dark, and finds a strange solace in the way Marinette, out of the corner of his eye, stiffens and clenches her fist at her side.

“Can’t you picture it?” Lila’s going on as they approach the catering table—doesn’t she ever get tired of hearing herself talk?—and she attempts to slip her hand into his. Smoothly and without missing a beat, he swipes his hand away, sticking it in his pocket with a pointed look. Manners be damned; he’d rather choke on a macaron than hold Lila Rossi’s hand. A cloud passes over her face, subtle and on the edges of manipulative where Chloé would burst out, but otherwise she doesn’t seem fazed. She’s probably developed more resolve, or perhaps more poison, ever since Adrien made it more than clear to her that his interests lay elsewhere. “Haven’t you considered it, Félix? My family’s done some lovely work in England—they’re Italian ambassadors, did you know?”

“Yes,” Félix manages to deadpan, acutely aware of how Marinette turns away from them to unpack another box of ridiculous paper straws. “In fact, Miss Rossi, you’ve told me so frequently that I may very well develop that tinnitus you so often complained about before.” He tilts his head, deeply feels the shift in Marinette’s energy and how hard she must be trying to stifle her own laughter. “Remind me, have you gotten that checked out?”

Marinette has to dip behind the table; he has to try not to smile. If he can’t talk to her directly, he might as well amuse her.

“Oh!” Lila says. “You remembered. Yes, yes, of course I did. It took some extensive treatment, but the doctors say I should be cured by now. It’s miraculous, isn’t it?” She gives her hair a flip. “But really, Félix, you’ll consider what I’ve told you, won’t you? I hear your family’s in the film business, and—wouldn’t you know it, I’ve done quite a few photoshoots with your cousin. I’m sure he could put in a good word for me with your mother. Think about it, us starring opposite each other—”

Félix suppresses a sigh, honestly about to tell her that if she had any sense of his family, he would have known that his aunt was the actress. But before he can so much as open his mouth, Marinette clears her throat to get their attention. Her expression is sour, and her arms are folded. “If you’re not going to take any refreshments,” she chides, “I’m going to ask you make way for those who are. And by the way, it might help you to know that merit and tact get you much farther in life than empty flattery.” She clicks her tongue, tightens the apron at her waist, and turns on her heel. “You should try it sometime, Miss Rossi.”

He knows that expression. The Customer Service Smile, she branded it. It’s half-terrifying, seeing her actually unleash it. Half-terrifying, and half-vindicating.

From the corner of the hotel lobby, Chloé’s mouth falls open in elated shock. Adrien and Kagami pause their hushed conversation to look their way. And Lila turns a deep, angry scarlet. (Oh, Marinette’s gotten so good at getting to her. Perfect, perfect Elizabeth.) In seconds, she’s composed herself, thankfully all but unraveled herself from Félix, and she approaches Marinette’s parents—who are honestly lovely people, and don’t deserve whatever’s about to come to them. (Especially Mrs. Cheng. She’s snuck him into the house too many times.)

They don’t get it. Whatever words Lila’s gathering, whatever excuse me she’s trying to preface it with, Félix doesn’t let it out, and it’s certainly not for her sake or for the Bourgeois family. “Thank you,” he cuts in with a cordial smile, careful not to shake Mrs. Cheng’s hand while she’s handling food. “You’ve been doing wonderful work for this event. Might you permit Miss Dupain-Cheng a short break? I’m sure she could use one.”

It’s practically textbook. Compliment. Persuade. Twist the knife with a little kindness. Perhaps Lila Rossi hasn’t learned all the tricks just yet.

And he certainly won’t let her.

Marinette’s parents look to her, and she looks to Félix, and he raises an eyebrow, as if to say, You gave me an out. Now it’s my turn. She hesitates a moment, then gathers herself. “Actually,” she says, as if finding a second wind, “a break would be really nice. Papa, could you text me when you need me back?”

Her father lets her go—he’s always been good about giving her the things she needs, which is sometimes more than he could say about his own. None too quickly, she undoes her apron, takes a deep breath to center herself, and disappears into the carpeted corridor by the elevators. And Félix, with that twist-the-knife bow and a macaron in hand, dismisses himself from Lila Rossi and finds a new corner to occupy.

There. Now no one can say he doesn’t talk to anyone. And no one can say he sulks.

———

He makes it about three-fourths of the way through the macaron before he finds his out to the corridor. It’s fine; he knows he won’t be missed, and he made sure Lila was properly occupied when he slipped away. She can’t follow him if she doesn’t know where he’s going, after all.

Almost predictably, Marinette is still outside the elevators, pacing back and forth in front of them and only making way for the people coming out. She catches his eye and pauses mid-step, and then collapses by one of the carpeted staircases with her head in her hands. “That was stupid,” she mumbles. “I was stupid.”

Félix doesn’t give her what she’s probably looking for. Instead, he holds his hand out to her and says, “Come with me. It’s suffocating, being in there.”

To his relief, Marinette takes the out. Her hand feels so small and so soft in his as he helps her up, and they slip into one of the elevators; all at once, he’s grateful for the hotel room that accompanied his invitation. They don’t say much, don’t do much even though they finally have the privacy for it. In fact, Marinette doesn’t crack until the elevator door closes behind them and they’ve begun to stroll down the blissfully quiet hallway. “I was working,” she sighs. “And I get it, it wasn’t professional of me to say something like that on the job. Especially during someone’s entire anniversary.”

“On the contrary,” he says, his hand finding a home at the small of her back; he’s relieved that she doesn’t protest, and instead leans into the touch for comfort. “I’ve never heard someone vocalize a middle finger quite as subtly and as eloquently as you.”

“It was hypocritical, Fé,” she points out. “You know I used my connections to get into university, too.”

Félix gives her the type of look that he hopes says, are you kidding me. “You asked for letters of recommendation. Which, as you may recall, is standard for university applications?”

Marinette looks like she wants to find other points to argue, like she’s really racking her brain for it. Eventually she stops, and sighs, and unties and reties her hair. Which is killing him on the inside, but he doesn’t dare say so just yet. Not when she’s still got steam to blow. “I’m sorry,” she finally says. “I should have let you handle it. You can hold your own.”

“Oh, please. To me, she’s a nuisance at best. A sycophant and a sour taste in my mouth. To you, she’s been a terror.” He tosses her a smirk. “I’m impressed that you have the capacity to dislike someone so deeply and so honorably. I should’ve expected something like that from you.” He glances behind them, just to make sure they’re truly alone, before he slips an arm around her waist, pulls her close and murmurs against the shell of her ear. “Were you jealous, love?”

It works. He can practically feel out her goosebumps, the way her muscles relax, with every sense he has. “Félix…”

“Well?” He hardly moves away from her, noses right into the flyaway hairs her elastic didn’t catch, into the sugar-and-almond scent she’s been carrying all day. “Were you?”

Marinette doesn’t bother to look his way. She stares straight ahead, and folds her arms across her chest. “Why should I be jealous?” she says. “You’re mine.”

Dear God. If he wasn’t attracted to her before, he certainly is now. He can feel the flare of it in the pit of his stomach, and before even he knows it he’s kissing the comebacks off of her tongue, pressing her against the wall just a few doors down from his room. He sighs, all but covering her mouth with his, and his hands catch on her dress on the way to tugging her hair tie out and securing it around his wrist for safekeeping. He always knew that sleight of hand would prove useful someday. “Yours, huh?” he hums in between kisses. “Is that how you feel?”

“I’m not wrong,” Marinette argues back, tugging him back in by the lapels of his jacket, and he’s far too busy tangling his fingers in her hair and mouthing down her neck to dispute it. And even if he weren’t busy, he certainly wouldn’t want to. Not when she sounds like that.

He pauses to laugh into her ear, her hair spilling over her shoulders as his hands find a home at her waist. “Don’t you have guests to cater to?”

Her lips are as red as her cheeks, and as far as he’s concerned her eyes are hooded beyond redemption. “Don’t you have a couple to congratulate?”

“Why should I? I’ve got something worth celebrating right here.” He grins faintly, steals another searing kiss, runs his hands up and down her sides and jumps at the opportunity to slip tongue when she gasps. “And she looks so good in wrinkles and a peter pan collar.”

Marinette’s breath hitches.

Bingo. And here she probably thought he didn’t pay attention to her fashion rambles.

Her eyes are sparkling by the time he pulls back enough to look at her. She looks him up and down, stops his hands, gives them a squeeze.

“Where’s your room?”

#miraculous ladybug #felinette #felix graham de vanily #marinette dupain cheng #fake not dating au #kiss meme #listen we're just all going to be okay with the fact that i wrote 2.5k for this request #and be done with it #SMASH THAT REBLOG BUTTON BABIES #jadysal #answers

348 notes · View notes

justjessame · 4 years ago

Text

Not A Loser Anymore Chapter 2

Morgan felt pretty damn pissed that she hadn’t followed Clay when he left the bar. She stood looking up at the burnt remains of his hotel. Fuck, she’d spent months watching him and his fellow assholes. Watching to make sure something idiotic and news catching like a fucking hotel catching fire. Shit. Oh he had made absolutely good on his promise that his team were responsible, she groaned and walked back to her own small hotel.

Where would they end up next? She had to think that they wouldn’t stick around after something this massive happened. After all, if they were found faking their own deaths, then they’d be up shit creek without a paddle. She was always their paddle in shit creek. Keeping their lifeboat above the rushing water, until they truly needed her.

She sat down on the crappy bed that her hotel provided. At least there weren’t bugs, she thought, holding her head as she considered what had gone so horribly wrong that she was sitting in fucking Bolivia doing recon to keep her former team safe from themselves.

WEEKS BEFORE THE OP IN BOLIVIA

“Fuck you, Clay!” She’d screamed, slamming the door of his bedroom as she stomped out to the main living area of their base. She didn’t pay attention to the open mouthed stares that the rest of her team were giving her. She wasn’t aware that she’d left every piece of her clothing behind with Clay and was stalking to her own room in nothing but her bra and the briefest scrap of lace that could barely be called panties covering her.

Morgan hadn’t wanted to be unprofessional. She fought against ever repeating their first meeting. He was her superior officer. Her BOSS for fuck’s sake. She’d left the note, as impersonal as it could get, and scurried from her apartment the morning after simply because that wasn’t her. She was a fucking doctor and a professional. So waking up next to him, even if he was the best sex she’d ever had, was a nightmare. She would have blamed the booze, but she hadn’t felt that tipsy when she pushed him against the building steps away from the bar. She definitely wasn’t drunk when he slammed her against her front door and fucked her senseless. Or the multiple other times they came together that night. When the light of dawn woke her, she’d been pressed against his chest, his arms holding her tight, and his head pressed against hers.

It felt good, but it was wrong. Wrong, wrong, and dangerous to her career. She booked it after jotting down that fucking note. The note they just fought over, again. After another slip off the wagon that she was on trying to keep from fucking her boss. Again. And again. And again. Worst recovering addict ever.

And every single time after that first night, Clay had to remind her that she ran. That she didn’t trust what they felt enough to stay and talk to him. Usually he waited until they were naked and at least partially sated, but tonight he started as they were taking their clothes off. And ruined it by making her feel like an idiot. Reminding her early the reasons she had rushed out that first morning. Reminding her how wrong their screwing around was, and as it was, how wrong this whole fucking situation was for them. For the team. For him and for her.

She was clothed and packing when she heard a knock on her door. Fuming, but certain it wasn’t Clay she grunted her assent for her visitor to come in. It was Jensen. Tech geek, and sweetheart, even if he was the most awkward human on the planet. Shame really, because he was very attractive.

“Mo,” he started, seeing her bags being filled with her shit. “Come on, Mo, this too shall pass.”

She rolled her eyes and glared at him. “No, Jensen, it won’t. That’s the problem. It never passes, not for long.” Morgan sighed and tossed the last of her possessions in her duffle. Zipping it up, she sat down on her bed and tried to smile at the computer nerd with arms of a Greek god. “Look, I can’t stay, not anymore. Cougar is a great medic, you guys don’t need me.” She forced herself to stand. “I have to go, fuck this stress is worse than putting aloe on the burned ass of monkey.” Grabbing her duffle and suitcase, she walked to the door of her room. “Don’t worry, Jen, I’m sure I’ll see you again.” He leaned down and she kissed his cheek. “Tell the others bye for me, would you?” He nodded and she was gone.

A WEEK AFTER THE OP WENT WRONG

Morgan could still see the commanding officer coming to her door. She couldn’t understand why they came to her, until he told her that Clay had named her as his next of kin. The officer stood in front of her saying all the usual platitudes that came from informing someone their loved one was dead in the line of duty. Even if it was unsanctioned. Even if it was a fuck up of massive proportions.

She had stopped the man, just as he was telling her that she would be given the folded flag, “What did they find?”

“Ma’am?” The officer asked, trying to understand her question.

“Of the bodies, what was found?” She asked, watching the man’s face. He looked uncomfortable. “They did find bodies, didn’t they?”

“It was a helicopter crash of sorts, ma’am.” He looked down at his shiny boots. “There wasn’t much left of anything, they found the dog tags of the team.”

She nodded, feeling that Clay and the team weren't dead at all. And she’d make it her mission to find out just what the hell had happened.

It had taken months. Months of bureacratic red tape and calling in every favor she’d ever made over her years of saving lives, or at least saving the shame of some idiotic decisions. She struggled, and fought against giving up, but in the end it had paid off.

The OP was requested on the behest of some shadowy figure called “Max.” Morgan couldn’t find much to prove Max was a human, but clearly he had to be. It wasn’t a mission she’d known about when she left the team, so it had to be one that wasn’t given much planning, which didn’t sound like Clay at all. The man was an asshole, but he was careful with his people.

From what she could gather, it was supposed to be a simple in and out type of job. So why were so many people dead? And why did Clay take the team underground? Morgan had realized that she’d have to go to Bolivia. Finding out information on the ground would have to be easier than pulling teeth in the U.S.

Finding them was easier than she’d expected. She had set up her headquarters in a small rundown, but clean hotel on the edge of town. Walking down the main street the first night, and there he was. Dressed in that damn dark suit of his, with the white shirt gleaming against his tanned skin, she nearly tripped. He walked into the very dive bar she watched him in the night of the fire, and every night after.

She didn’t only focus on Clay, though she was itching to find out why he’d choose her of all people as next of kin. No, she found Jensen and Cougar working at a baby doll factory, of all places. Jensen was always easy to pick out of the crowd with his loud t-shirts that barely held together under the strain of his muscles. Cougar was also fairly simple to pick out of a crowd. Women flocked to the sniper who didn’t use many words. And eventually she’d seen Roque and Pooch, too.

Confirming they weren’t dead, she wondered about Pooch. His wife was due to have a baby, and soon. That had to make this self imposed “death” difficult on them both. She’d checked in on Jolene before making the trip. She found the pregnant woman as disbelieving as she was that they were dead. Her reason? Pooch’s wedding ring wasn’t with his dog tags. Why would he suddenly take it off the chain if he hadn’t been alive to keep it?

Morgan agreed with Jolene, and Jensen’s sister when she checked on her before leaving for Bolivia. Same story, with less proof and more of a feeling. Funny how only the women seemed to realize that the story didn’t mesh with the men they knew.

And so, Morgan kept watch. She knew her former team. Knew all of them well enough to know that one of them would fuck up, and she had hoped that she’d be able to swoop in and make sure the fuck up wouldn’t end up with them actually dying.

A WEEK AFTER THE HOTEL FIRE

Morgan was on her cell phone, rolling her eyes at the dickhead on the other end. “No, I don’t want to know about the endangered animals being smuggled into the United States. I’m sure it’s a terrible and horrifying situation, but what I TRULY need to know is whether there have been any strange shipments scheduled to come into the states that don’t seem ‘right’ to you.” She sighed, “Look Skippy, I’m sure that the plight of the average custom’s agent is just fucking the most stress a human could possibly experience, but if you don’t tell me what I want to know, the stress you’re feeling is going to be raised by one hundred percent.” She listened as he described the plane. The caskets. The number of caskets. Nodding, she jotted the information down on a napkin. “Well, thanks Skippy. I’m glad that we don’t have to meet face to face after all, but I promise, you and your team can expect a nice surprise for lunch.”

Guess I’m headed to Florida, Morgan sighed to herself. She’d been surprised when she learned that the team was coming back to the states. It wasn’t that difficult to get some information, but the U.S. isn’t exactly a shoebox, so she had to finagle more information, and Skip with US Customs was one of the tactics she had to use. Grabbing her duffle that she kept packed and lived out of, she was calling using it to find a flight as she rushed downstairs and into the open.

She hadn’t taken two steps before colliding with a wall of muscle. Damn it. Looking up she literally groaned out loud. “Roque.” She said, glaring up at Clay’s second in command. “What a pleasure.” She glanced down at her phone, locking the screen so he didn’t have a chance to see the flight information.

“You don’t sound surprised to see me,” Roque said, stepping back and crossing his arms across his chest. “In fact, you don’t seem shocked that I’m in this pissant town.”

Morgan bit her lip and looked up at him. “Did you guys really think that people who KNOW you would believe that a helicopter crash without the right number of bodies and just your dog tags left behind would be proof that you were dead?” She scoffed. “Pooch kept his wedding band. Jensen’s sister said the online view of the Petunia soccer games is showing someone watching faithfully from BOLIVIA of all fucking places. And Clay? He was dumb enough to name me his next of kin.” She unzipped her duffle and pulled out the folded flag and handed it to Roque. “I thought he’d like to have his flag.”

“Mo-” She shook her head, stopping him. He held the flag loosely in his hands. He knew that Clay and her relationship was complicated at best, and screwed from the beginning at worst, but this, her here?

“Look,” she said, another sigh and tipping her head back to look up at him. “I got used to keeping all of you in one piece. I had to make sure you were all alright. I-”

“Had to see him again for yourself.” Roque finished, pulling her into his arms. “Fuck, Clay and you, never quite understood it, but he shouldn’t have put this on your shoulders, Mo.”

She shrugged in his arms. “I wanted to be sure that all of you were safe. I know-” she stopped, giving up intel would suck, but she had to know their plans. Or at least something to keep her sanity about them staying safe. “I know you’re heading back to America. I know you won’t tell me anything, but-” She closed her eyes, pushing away the pain of not being with them, with HIM. “Tell me you’re going to be safe. Tell me that, and I’ll happily go back to my house. I’ll start up with the hospital that wants me so badly they can taste it, and I’ll move on.”

Roque’s arms stiffened around her. He heard her pain. The pain of being apart from Clay and from their ragtag group. Mostly, he thought, from being apart from Clay. He didn’t trust the new girl. He didn’t believe her story or her insistence about what she wanted. Clay could be completely fucking ridiculous, but this chick? She was going to bring them low. How could he promise Morgan that they’d be safe when he didn’t believe it himself. “I’ll promise that we’ll stick together, Mo. I’ll promise that I have their backs and they got mine. That’s all I can promise.”

She nodded and drew back. “Guess that’ll have to do, won’t it?” Her eyes were glassy and Roque realized he’d never seen Morgan cry. Pissed, screaming, and bossy he’d seen all that with her, but this? She was broken. He tried to hand her the flag, but she shook her head. “That’s Clay’s. Give it to him. Tell him goodbye.” He watched as she got in a waiting cab and drove away. He remembered the night she left them all behind. Remembered how it changed Clay. This? This was going to be the reckoning.

Clay looked up from the intel that Aisha had given them about the plan to be smuggled back to the states. He heard Roque walk in and was about to call him over when his second thumped a folded triangle of the stars and stripes down on the table in front of him. “What the fuck?” Clay asked, looking up at the glaring face of a man he’d count on anytime in his life.

“Mo thought you’d like your flag.” Roque growled, throwing himself into a chair nearby. He looked up at Clay’s startled face. “Don’t worry, she’s gone.” “Gone?” Clay was afraid to touch the carefully folded flag, afraid he’d smell her on the fabric. “She was here?”

Roque nodded. “She was checking on a feeling she had about us. Mo knew we weren’t dead, Clay.” He glared up at his commander. “She saw us, all of us. And she wanted to know why you named her next of kin.”

Clay closed his eyes and fought the pain in his chest at the memory. He’d completely forgotten about that. He’d changed it when she joined them. He knew she’d be the only person on Earth he’d trust with his body, living or dead. “Fuck.” He gritted through his teeth. “What else does she know?” He had to force himself to the task at hand. Killing Max, hopefully getting their lives back.

Roque shrugged. “Not much, that she’d tell me anyway.” He pulled out one of his knives and rolled it between his hands. “She wanted me to tell you ‘goodbye’. She said it was time to move on.”

“Move on?” Clay growled. “Move on? Is that a fucking joke? She’s the one who walked out on us, Roque. Her, not me. She walked out and told Jensen to tell us goodbye the last time. Morgan fucking Dean has walked out on me more times than I can fucking count. Move on, well fine let her fucking move on.” He pushed the flag out of his way and went back to the plan. “Aisha wants to have us unloaded here-” He was showing Roque the plan, but in his mind he was remembering that night. The last night he’d seen her in the flesh.

Morgan had worn a dress that would make any grown man fall to his knees. Then, as though she wasn’t a fucking walking wet dream already, she’d started stripping for him. Baring her shoulders, that fucking blue lily tattoo on her right shoulder blade shining against her pink skin, he’d watched mesmerized.

She got down to the wisp of lace she jokingly called panties, and a bra that barely held her breasts. And what had he done? He opened his fucking mouth and ruined it. Again.

“You aren’t gonna run away as soon as we’re done, are you?” He’d been teasing, that’s what he told himself, but he didn’t believe it anymore. He was harboring the pain of waking up in her bed that first morning with the stupid note. He watched the pain flit across her face at the reminder. A reminder he gave EVERY goddamn time she gave herself to him. EVERY fucking time, but this time they didn’t even get to the giving part.

She glared at him, hands on her hips and feet shoulder width apart. A soldier, through and through. “Every time, Clay, every time.” She shook her head as he tried to tease the stupidity of his own fucking mouth away. “You know what, Clay?” She started for his door, and turned back long enough to give him that heated look that could either ignite his fire or douse it. “FUCK YOU, CLAY!” She slammed the door behind her.

Clay had sat on his bed, back against the wall, waiting. Usually she’d force herself back, to have even more of a verbal match, but she never came. He fumed that she’d just walk away, again. She always walked away. Always. It wasn’t until morning, when Jensen gave him a sad, but terrified look that he knew. She was gone. This time she wouldn’t just walk back in and get back to work.

His team had looked at him like he was the biggest fucking loser of them all. And for a while, he had to agree. As the other men joined Roque and him at the table, he tried to convince himself that he didn’t agree with the feeling like he’d ruined something. That he hadn’t pushed her right out the door that she’d slammed. That it wasn’t his butthurt pride that ruined his last time with Morgan. That looking at the flag they’d given her upon his death didn’t pierce right through him. Because that flag meant what words and screaming matched never did. She was done. Finished with him. And he had to blink away the pain, because she was his medic and she wasn’t here anymore.

#Franklin Clay x OFC #mention of smut #the losers (2010)#alternative universe

2 notes · View notes

winsister91 · 6 years ago

Text

Marriage Guidance

Part of the SOWINFREDSISIE Celebration!

(Yeah...remember that? We’re still slowly working through these. We are aware it has been literal months. Soz.)

Summary: @feelmyroarrr (won’t let me tag, sorry :( ) asked: Ohhh congrats both of you! How about having to pretend to be married to the Winchester but having to pretend you don’t really fancy them.

I wrote for Sam and @sofreddie wrote for Dean (link when fic is posted).

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean, OC Dr. Wells

Warnings: Um...this fic is stupid? I wouldn’t say it’s angst and I wouldn’t say its fluff. An attempt at crack if anything. Oh, and no doubts swearing coz I’m just like that. Oh, some mild blood and violence briefly.

Wordcount: 2000~

My Masterlist!

~ Sam and forever tags are open! ~

“Wait, what?” you stopped the youngest Winchester mid sentence, “J-Just run that by me again?”

“Well…” Sam shrugged, tilting his head curiously at your sudden reaction, “It’s the easiest way in without breaking in.”

“B-but,” you stuttered desperately, hoping to god the hotness on your cheeks wasn’t evidence that they were turning pink, “Pretend I’m your wife and go see the fucking marriage counsellor?”

You gestured to the small building Dean had pulled up in front of. A perfectly innocent looking place with a professional looking business name. However there was some suspicions that the counsellor himself was Werewolf. This didn’t exactly fill you with any confidence regarding this plan.

“Yeah I wouldn’t wanna be married to Sam either,” Dean tittered, “But Sam’s got a point, it’s a clean way in.”

“Are you boys forgetting what this guy possibly is?” you blinked rapidly in horror, “We could walk in and become this guy’s meal for his lunch break.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam flashed a reassuring smile at you, “We’ll conceal some silver weapons on us, it’ll be fine.”

You sighed heavily in defeat, rubbing your temple as you felt like the only person on the planet who thought this was a ludicrous idea, “Go on then, we get in there, then what? Get our marital issues out in the open?”

“Improvise,” Sam shrugged, “They’ll probably just ask us to make an appointment. So you keep them talking to buy us time and I’ll ask if I can use the bathroom and... scope the place out. See if I can find anything that confirms this guy is the culprit.”

“Wonderful,” you whined, “Foolproof, love it.”

“Here,” Sam opened the glovebox, retrieving a small box from inside.

You recoiled, instantly recognising the box and knowing what it held. Sam opens it to reveal his mother’s wedding ring.

“You can wear this,” Sam stated nonchalantly.

You felt the blood rush from your face and you freeze on the spot. You could just see Dean’s eyes twinkling with glee in the corner of your eye. He was loving this. Many a drunken night ago, the eldest Winchester had fed you one too many tequilas and all your concealed feelings for Sam came pouring out. You could see the corners of Dean’s mouth twitching, swiftly followed by him silently mouthing the word “awkward” at you whilst you stared down at the ring Sam offered you. You’d fantasised many a scenarios of Sam asking you to be his wife, precisely none of them were like this.

“S-Sam,” you shook your head, “O-okay we’re getting a bit too serious about this now, we don’t need-”

“Just put in on,” Sam laughed, forcing his Mother’s memento onto your ring finger, “It’s all we have that’ll be convincing.”

You grimaced, staring at the beautiful golden band. This isn’t right. This isn’t right. Help. Abort. ABORT.

“C’mon let’s go,” Sam opened the car door and quickly steppd out, popping open the boot and rummaging for some silver weapons quickly. You couldn’t find the motivation to move, you were completely frozen to that seat.

Dean tittered to himself in the driver’s seat.

“Shut up,” you snapped quickly, “He can’t make me do this. I won’t. I refuse!”

“Aw, but I’m afraid he is making you do it,” Dean giggled gleefully, as Sam tapped on your window, beckoning you to get out, “Hang in there soldier.”

You shot Dean your most dangerous glare as you reluctantly threw the car door open and climbed out.

You took a pistol loaded with silver bullets from Sam and stashed it inside your jacket. Clenching your eyes, you hoped that something would come up and stop you both from doing this. Alas, with each step towards the building, you felt your heart sink lower and lower.

This is not gonna go well. It can’t possibly go well. We’re either getting eaten or I’m gonna blurt some bowl full of crazy out.

Sam held the front door open for you and you both entered, walking into a small reception area. Nothing special or out of the ordinary jumped out at you. A small sitting area, the surrounding walls painted with a safe and neutral beige. Sam dragged you up to the counter where an over-smiley blonde lady sat expectantly.

“Hi!” she cheeped in an irritating tone, “How can I help? Do you have an appointment?”

“Uh, no,” Sam smiled casually, “We were hoping to make one?”

“Well aren’t you guys just in luck,” she clapped her hands making you jump with a start, “Dr Wells has a free slot right now if you’d like?”

“Uh…” Sam stuttered slightly, briefly glancing to you. With all the power you can muster you tried to force the message ‘OH HELL NO’ telepathically back to him.

“Sure!” he laughed unconvincingly, and your heart sunk more, “No time like the present.”

“Can I take your names?”

“It’s uh...Sam and Y/N Winchester.”

Your heart skipped a beat hearing your name referred to as a Winchester, but then you remembered the situation you’re in and come crashing back to reality.

“Great!” the receptionist typed away on her little computer behind the desk, “I’ll just let the doctor know and you can go right on through.”

“Great,” you drawled sarcastically as she swiftly left through a door.

“Could you be any less convincing?” Sam whispered harshly at you, “Can you just try a little?”

“Sam!” you hissed back at him, “We’re going to see a marriage counsellor. And. We. are. NOT. Married!”

“It’s okay, we’ll just improvise, like I said,” he tried to reason with you, “I’m sure we can make up some marriage problems stuff.”

“What, like my husband is a freaking pain in the ass who doesn’t listen! You didn’t even use a fucking fake name!”

“Just go with it, please!”

“Oh I’ll go with it, you just watch me go with it.”

The receptionist suddenly popped out from behind a different door and cheerily beckons you through. Sam watched you with narrowed eyes as you barreled on ahead in front of him with heavy stomps.

“Good afternoon,” an elderly gent with white hair and a neatly trimmed goatee welcomed you in the room the receptionist lead you.

“Hi!” you beamed over-enthusiastically, prompting Sam to throw you a worried look.

The man beckoned you to sit on the couch opposite his arm chair. He smiled warmly at you both and spoke with a soft calm voice.

“I’m glad we could fit you in on short notice. What made you decide to seek marriage counselling?”

“Yeah, what was it Sammy?” you folded your arms and glared at the Winchester.

“U-uh,” he stared wide-eyed at you for a moment before turning back to the doctor, “I- W-we feel like we’ve hit a-a road block in our marriage?”

“Oh really?” you tilted your head at him, not giving Dr Wells the chance to speak, “I thought it was to do with the fact I’m constantly tidying up after you. You stay up all night on your computer. You don’t clean your damn hair outta the shower plug. You never re-fill the damn coffee machine when you’ve drank it all!”

“W-what!?” Sam looked at you mortified, the biggest ‘what the fuck’ face you’d ever seen in your life on him.

“Well that’s what we do in these things right?” you narrowed your eyes and glared into his soul, “Vent out our frustrations?”

“Right,” he narrowed his back and counter glared, “So I can tell the good doctor here about how stubborn you are? That you blast music out at stupid hours in the morning? That you randomly go out on all night drinking benders with my damn brother?”

“Oh dont worry,” you huffed, still mad at Dean for teasing you, “Your brother’s a damn jackass too.”

“O-okay…” the doctor tried to step in tentatively, “I can see we’ve got a lot to delve into here.”

“Shut up!” you and Sam shouted at the doctor in unison.

“I don’t know what you’re getting all pent up about Sam,” you shrugged very matter of factly at him, “It was your idea to come here!”

“I don’t believe this,” Sam sighed in defeat, rubbing his forehead. This wasn’t what he planned. “L-look, Doctor h-have you got a restroom I can use?”

“Sure,” he answered, leaning back in his arm chair to take a breather, “Just up the stairs on your left.”

You continued to glare at Sam as he got up and motioned to leave, he shook his head, still in total disbelief and the door clicked closed behind him.

You sighd heavily, a thick tension filling the room. All that could be heard was the obnoxiously loud ticking from a clock on the rear wall. The Doctor observed you, making you shuffle uncomfortable on the couch.

“I get the feeling you don’t want to be here,” he chuckled.

“Way to go Doc,” you growled, every fibre of your being wishing Sam would hurry the fuck up already.

“I can see there’s a current hostility sure, the key is finding where that stems from. Do you resent your husband?”

“What the hell are you talking about? No he just fucking annoys me.”

“You say he stays up all night on his computer. He says you go out drinking with his brother. Do you feel his brother pays you more attention? Are you attracted to him?”

“Dude!” you cried in horror, “Ew!”

You couldn't deny that Dean is certainly a looker, but knowing him like you did, you could never yourself with him like that in any way.

“Are you still attracted to your husband then? Do you engage in sexual interaction?”

“Ha!” you squealed comically, “Oh Doc. Oooh if only you knew. I try so hard getting him to look at me and there’s just nothing. Nothing.”

“Are you scared he’s looking elsewhere?”

“I know he’s not looking elsewhere. He doesn’t have the time too. Listen, you don’t know the full story here and you’re not likely to ever find out if I have anything to do with it.”

Dr Wells looked at you puzzled, unable to find a suitable reaction to what he was hearing.

“All you gotta know is that big lug up there,” you pointed to the ceiling knowing Sam was probably creeping around and snooping somewhere on the upper floor, “Is the fucking love of my life, and I can’t even get the damn guy to look at me.”

The door suddenly burst open and Sam stumbled through. Your eyes widened at the sight of his jacket now spattered with copious amounts of blood.

“W-werewolves,” he gasped while he panted for air.

Dr Wells jumped to his feet, his face suddenly contorting into a mangled embodiment of rage. His teeth grew long, sharp and deadly, and a menacing roar bellowed from his snarl.

You hastily fumbled in your jacket for the pistol Sam gave you previously, but there was no need. As soon as Dr. Wells lunged for you, Sam was there, stopping the creature in its tracks with a silver blade to the heart.

You froze in disgust as the Doctor’s blood sprays back on you, and his body then slumps to the floor.

“You okay?” Sam rushed to you, “He didn’t get you did he?”

“No…” you mumbled, grimacing as you looked down at your ruined shirt, “Just bits of him got on me.”

Sam sighed with relief, dropping onto the arm of the couch to rest for a moment.

You followed suit, dropping onto the sofa next to him.

“Who’s that?” you pointed to his blood spattered shirt.

“The receptionist...” he answered bluntly.

“Right,” you nodded. Well, case closed at least.

“Um…” Sam looked at you questioningly, “What was that stuff you were saying before I came in?”

“W-what?” you blurted out, hairs standing on end, “Nothing. I said nothing.”

You instantly retreated, heading straight for the exit. You needed to get back to that car and kick Dean’s ass too.

“But!” Sam jogged after you, “I could’ve sworn I heard you say-”

“You heard nothing Sammy!” you squeaked, barging out of the exit and proceeding to scream obscenities at Dean.

Sam stopped inside for a moment, sighing deeply and shaking his head.

“She definitely said...” he mumbled to himself quietly, “....I love you too Y/N.”

Tags! Forevers Posse: @sofreddie @chelsea074298 @ria132love @untitled39887 @chicagolove88 @akshi8278 @sis-tafics @younoeatcheeseyounobefat @mandilion76 @teamfreewill92 @supernaturalmagicfolk @emoryhemsworth @musicistobeheard-blog @pheonyxstorm @mrswhozeewhatsis @turnttoverr @itspronouncedsatanbitch @the--real-wombat @xagateophobiax @samisimportant @jensen-gal @castiel11235 @waiting-to-find-myshadows @19agbrown @mogaruke @nyxveracity @cole-winchester @esoltis280 @maui137 @internationalmusicteacher @meganywinchester

Sam Lovelies: @andkatiethings

#supernatural #fanfic #spnfanfic #sam x reader #sam oneshot #sam drabble #sam fluff #sam angst #sam crack #dean winchester #dean fluff #dean crack #SONWINFREDSISIE celebration #i'm sorry

90 notes · View notes

elosnotebook · 7 years ago

Text

CHRIS SCHISTAD IMAGINE

Requested by anonymous from the Drabble Game.

Number 29.

Masterlist ❁

Notes: sooooo hi, merry christmas everyone. as my gift for y’all, here is an imagine a lil of bit of christmasy. i wrote yesterday, and i didn’t actually go through it sooo ignore the errors, i did enjoyed writing it and i missed it sooooo hard!!!

It was a slow day on the hospital. Working as a trauma doctor in a small town could be really boring some days. This thought always made me feel bad, it seemed like I am hoping people to get hurt so I have something to get out of boredom. I really didn’t.

I was finishing a few release papers for a patient when someone knocked on the doctor’s room door.

“Dr. y/n?” A nurse called.

“Yes?” I said, driving my eyes from the papers to glaze at her.

“Hm, we have a new come in?” Her eyebrows were knitted, as she didn’t know how I would receive the information. It got me feeling a mix of curiosity and worries.

“Is that a question, Rose?” I didn’t mean to be rude, at any point. Rose was my favorite nurse and she was one of the smartest hard working in that place.

“No. A man fell off his roof while trying put Christmas lights on it.” Her eyes were showing pure amusement. At this point of December, those cases where pretty common.

“Another one? I swear I don’t know what men have inside their skull. It can’t be a brain with good functioning.” She bit her lower lips, clearly trying to hold a comment, or maybe a laugh. “Why do I feel there’s something more about the story and you’re not telling me?”

“I think you should see it for yourself.” The statement was enough to make me stand and follow her through the hospital’s corridors.

She gave me a paper with the careless patient data. I started reading about what happened and what he was feeling, not being able to not judge the poor guy for his bad lightning choice. He was moved to a private room, to wait for the various exams he would have to check everyhing. I stopped at the door to read about the information I got for one more time, when my eyes found his name.

Christoffer Schistad.

The dumbass patient was my fucking husband?

I opened the door without even knocking.

“Are you kidding me, Christoffer?” I screamed at the guy lying on the bed right in front of me, flashing him my typical angry look.

“Hi babe.” He gave me one of his charming smile, which didn’t last long, due to his huge cut on his lower lip, making him frown because of the pain.

“Christmas lights??? On the roof??” As I was giving my best not to strangle him, my eyes kept trailing down his body, their focus lingering on his exposed skin, looking for injuries. His lips were hurt. His middle finger was at a strange position, broken, without a doubt.

Noticing what I was doing, he decided to help me. “Cut on the lip, hit my head, broke my middle finger and twisted my ankle. I don’t think I have any internal damage. Order a head CT and page ortho.”

“You are not the doctor on call today, I am. So just shut up, please.” My heart was beating like crazy.

The door opened, showing Chris’ best friend William. I didn’t know he was the orthopedist on call that night, but a relieve got me when he showed up.

“Just... How do you manage to be so fucking stupid, Schistad? After all those years?” He put his hand on Chris’ shoulder, making him flinch and my eyebrows go high.

“Right, forgot to mention. Shifted the shoulder.” William smiled.

“I can help with that. Actually,” he said, turning to me, “I’ll make sure he make all the exams. You know, as his wife...”

“I can’t treat him, I know.” After the rush, my body was starting to relax, and I could feel the tears. I had to fight them hard. Will didn’t notice, but I knew Chris did, but before he could say anything, a loud knock echoed through the room and the big, hospital door opened wide.

“Dr. Schistad.”

“Yes?” Me and Chris answered at the same time, making the nurse on the door smile.

“I assume you’re talking to the smart one.” Will joked, pointing at me. The nurse smiled, embarassed. She was a new one, and I wasn’t familiar with her name yet.

“Yes?” I repeated myself.

“Sorry to bother you, but there was a car crash, and there’s a patient coming. The other trauma surgeon is about two hours and a half from here.” I got hear the guilty in her voice. She didn’t want to bother me, so the new case should be a hard one.

I sighed, while gazing into his brown eyes. I didn’t know when I started to depend so hard on him, but now, I just couldn’t imagine my life without him. The thought of me losing him for Christmas lights made me tremble.

“Come here.” Chris demanded. I came closer, going for his good hand as an instinct. Sadly, it was the bad shoulder. He cringed, but when I tried to let it go, he held it harder.

“I swear to you, I’m okay. I’ll be fine. There’s nothing you can do here for me.” I could hear how tired he was by his voice, which made my heart break a little bit more. His fingers were gently caressing my hand.

“I know.” I managed to speak, my throat dry as I swallowed.

“Go help those people, I will be here when you get back.” He smiled again, making me a little bit more relaxed. Just a bit.

“I’ll take care of him, I promise.” Will stated.

I kissed Chris’ forehead and Will’s cheek, leaving them both with a heavy heart. Every step I took away from him seemed heavy, hard.

The hours couldn’t go slower. I helped every single patient that came in, trying not to think about my stupid husband at the next room, and the most of time, I actually did a good job. When my turn ended, I rushed myself to Chris’ room.

He was there with Will, laughing about something they’ve done while they were at high school. His eyes met mine instantely, and I left a huge sigh, one I didn’t know I was holding, go.

“He’s fine.” Will told me, his voice going to stricted professional. It was the voice he used with me and Chris about a patient.

“Shoulder is in the right place, broken finger as well. I gave some pills for his ankle.”

“The exams?” I interrupted. “All clean. I put them on your locker, if you wanna check them later.” He could be Chris’ best friend, but the guy knew me too well after all these years working together.

“Thank you.” I hugged him.

“All good. I’m going home now, I leave him in your hands.” He said, going straight to the door. “Oh, one more thing,” he turned to me, “he also had a cut behind his ears. It needs stitches, I thought you could handle this one. After all, you are way more delicated than I am.”

“Don’t worry, I will call Rose and tell her what I need to stitch him up.”

Rose came faster with what I needed. During all the process, we both didn’t say a single word. Carefully, I gave him the last stitch. I handed him a mirror, so he could judge my job. Even when we were at med school, he was always better than me when it comes to stitches. No wonder how he got to be the most amazing plastic surgeon I’ve ever met.

"I don't know how you did it, but it is great." Chris complimented. "I bound myself to your abilities."

I was trying so hard to be mad at him, but I didn't manage to avoid smiling.

"You're an asshole. A clumsy one. This is, by far, the dumbest thing you've done. We literally talk about these kind of patients every single day." I shook my head. "I can't believe you're one of them now."

"So it means we're talking about me on our bed time?" He frowned. "Not sure if I like it."

My smile got bigger. I took the antibiotics pills of the desk and handed to him.

"You took these in every 8 hours. And two of these to feel better instantly" I leaned in to kiss him twice.

"Hmm.. How many of these you said I need to take?" He said, using his good arm/bad hand to push me closer, hugging my waist.

"Only two, but I don't think it'll do any harm if you exaggerated on the dose." I answered him, leaning in again. But Chris stopped me.

"No." He stated. "Medicine is not a joke. What if I overdose?" He pulled me away gently. "What if I get addicted?"

I forced my body to his direction again.

"Stop being such a buzz killer, Chris!"

"Can you imagine?" He asked, his mouth opened with a fake horror.

"Right now is two. Then later, more two. And two more after that. Suddenly, two won't be good enough. I'll need four, six, EIGHT! How am I supposed to handle so many kisses, Doctor????"

"You'll figure it out." I whispered in his ear, sounding the sexiest I could. Chris froze, watching me getting closer and closer. When I was about to kiss him, he put the broken finger in my mouth, making me to stop.

"You know, there's a way to fix it. There's a hot nurse downstairs." The same ol' Christoffer Schistad.

"Please, don't say it."

"She could kiss me too." He continued, ignoring my request. "In medical terms, I'd be safe. She could kiss me twice, and so do you. You both even could kiss me at the same time. I'd be a little overwhelming but, as you said, I'd figure it out."

I raised an eyebrow.

"You know that the scalpel I used to cut the bandages is right there, right?" I pointed it out. "I can use it to cut some other stuff do." His good arm wrapped me.

"How is my wife more badass than me?”

"The truth is Christoffer: I've always been cooler than you. It's sad you've only realized it now." He giggled.

"I think it was the medication. The effect is passing now, I can see it clearly. You're not badass than me." He kissed me, and someone knocked on the door.

I pushed myself away from him a second before Rose opening it.

"Are you done here? We have one more."

"Yes, send the patient to the x ray, I'm coming in 3." She closed the door. I turned myself to say goodbye of Chris, when I realized the biggest smile on his face.

"What? People getting hurt makes you happy?"

"No." He grinned, making himself the more confortable he could be at one of those beds.

"The fact I won't be the reason of the bed time talk does." We slotted our mouths together, making me leave him with his taste on my tongue.

#chris schistad #chris schistad imagine #chris schistad imagines #christoffer schistad #christoffer schistad imagine #christoffer schistad imagines #skam #skam imagines #imagine #imagines #chris x reader #chris x reader fluffly #herman tommeraas #herman tommeraas imagines

200 notes · View notes

b0stonmanor · 6 years ago

Text

since yall kept fuckin asking heres 1-155. Go ahead and see how fucking lame I actually am

1: Full name: Madison Lyn (I’m not putting my last name on the internet lmao)

2: Age:19

3: 3 Fears: heights, elevators, being alone for the rest of my life

4: 3 things I love: cats, coffee, sleeping

5: 4 turns on: (I’m gonna make it nonsexual okay): body mods, humor, good vibes, nice laugh

6: 4 turns off: (gonna make these nonsexual too): rude, nasty, conceited, takes days to reply lmao

7: My best friend: girl: @bohoangel guy: @bostonnanner

8: Sexual orientation: pansexual

9: My best first date: haven’t had a best one yet, need someone to change that lmao

10: How tall am I: 5′8

11: What do I miss: lots of things and people both too many too name

12: What time was I born: 2:06am

13: Favourite color: blue

14: Do I have a crush: still crushin on my last man

15: Favourite quote: either some vine or “I’m here for a good time not a long time” I have way too many favs

16: Favourite place: my room, best friends house, or beach house

17: Favourite food: buffalo chicken or alfredo

18: Do I use sarcasm: of course not

19: What am I listening to right now: music ;)

20: First thing I notice in new person: smile

21: Shoe size: no

22: Eye color: hazel

23: Hair color: naturally brunette currently red

24: Favourite style of clothing: gothic, pop punk or hippie/boho

25: Ever done a prank call?: I havent personally

27: Meaning behind my URL: I needed to change my url of 8 years and I wanted something short and easy to remember but I also wanted it to be a band so it would fit my blog and surprisingly this one wasnt taken

28: Favourite movie: I have way too many

29: Favourite song: again way too many

30: Favourite band: AGAIN way too many

31: How I feel right now: I feel fucking exhausted

32: Someone I love: okay now Im sad

33: My current relationship status: okay NOW Im crying but single

34: My relationship with my parents: welp my dads dead and my mom and I are okay

35: Favourite holiday: Halloween or Christmas

36: Tattoos and piercing I have: no tattoos yet and I have my nose pierced and first and second holes pierced on my ears

37: Tattoos and piercing I want: too many

38: The reason I joined Tumblr: I was 12 that should be enough

39: Do I and my last ex hate each other?: No. In fact I could never hate him and I dont think I’ll love anyone like I did/do him.

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?: eh sometimes

41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? last text over imessage yes

42: When did I last hold hands?: I have no idea

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?: I dont do anything really so not too long

44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days?: dont out me

45: Where am I right now?: my room

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?: @bohoangel

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?: both

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad?: mom

49: Am I excited for anything?: nah

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? @bostonnanner

51: How often do I wear a fake smile?: eh

52: When was the last time I hugged someone?: yesterday

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me?: I mean idc but it’d just be fucking weird cause they’re kissing in front of me

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?: plenty of people lmao

55: What is something I disliked about today?: I’ll do yesterday since today hasnt really happened. But it was fathers day and my heart was hurting so bad cause I miss my dad more than anything and really wish he was still here

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?: my fuckin soulmate bitch

57: What do I think about most?: in all honesty, my ex

58: What’s my strangest talent?: I can do this smile thing that nobody else can do and it makes me look like a frog

59: Do I have any strange phobias?: probably

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?: in front

61: What was the last lie I told?: that I was a child of God

62: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?: video chatting but I dont mind either

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?: fuck yes and fuck yes

64: Do I believe in magic?: I’m a god damn witch bitch

65: Do I believe in luck?: I believe in karma

66: What’s the weather like right now? according to my phone its currently clear and 61 degrees

67: What was the last book I’ve read?: I have no idea

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline?: eh

69: Do I have any nicknames? Maddie, Mad, Mads

70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had?: I had a staph infection in my foot that went back and forth across my foot and then up my leg (doctor said if my mom didn’t bring me when she did I would’ve died cause it would’ve gone to my heart)

71: Do I spend money or save it?: spend it

72: Can I touch my nose with a tongue?: nope

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feets from me? ye

74: Favourite animal?: cats

75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM?: I have no idea

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is?: oh shit I’ve never thought of this

77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?: good question

78: How can you win my heart?: Be Italian

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? I honestly have no idea

80: What is my favorite word? bitch

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr: I get asked this way too much

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?: probably some hippie bullshit

83: Do I have any relatives in jail?: I’ve had relatives in jail but I dont think anyones in jail rn

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? theres too many lmao

85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? probably if I’ve smoked or drank or have done anything bad but only if my mom was asking

86: What is my current desktop picture? its just basic

87: Had sex?: nah

88: Bought condoms?: nah

89: Gotten pregnant?: nah

90: Failed a class?: nah

91: Kissed a boy?: ye

92: Kissed a girl?: ye

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?: nah

94: Had job?: ye

95: Left the house without my wallet?: ye

96: Bullied someone on the internet?: nah

97: Had sex in public?: nah

98: Played on a sports team?: ye

99: Smoked weed?: ye

100: Did drugs?: nothing hardcore just smoking weed

101: Smoked cigarettes?: nah

102: Drank alcohol?: ye

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan?: I’ve tried

104: Been overweight?: no answer

105: Been underweight? also no answer

106: Been to a wedding?: ye

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight?: ye

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight?: ye

109: Been outside my home country?: nah

110: Gotten my heart broken?: of course

111: Been to a professional sports game?: ye

112: Broken a bone?: ye

113: Cut myself?: ye

114: Been to prom?: ye

115: Been in airplane?: ye

116: Fly by helicopter?: nah

117: What concerts have I been to?: pink, metallica/volbeat, warped tour 2016,2017,2018, jingle ball, some birthday bash, I cant remember if I’ve been to any other ones lmao

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex?: not entirely

119: Learned another language?: not fully

120: Wore make up?: ye

121: Lost my virginity before I was 18?: I’m a child of god

122: Had oral sex?: nah

123: Dyed my hair?: ye

124: Voted in a presidential election?: not yet

125: Rode in an ambulance?: couldve a couple times but my parents decided to drive me

126: Had a surgery?: nah

127: Met someone famous?: I guess?

128: Stalked someone on a social network?: who doesnt do this

129: Peed outside?: ye

130: Been fishing?: ye

131: Helped with charity?: I think so

132: Been rejected by a crush?: who doesnt get rejected

133: Broken a mirror?: probably

134: What do I want for birthday?: lots of things

135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names?: I have no idea

136: Was I named after anyone?: No but I have the same middle name as my aunt

137: Do I like my handwriting?: ye

138: What was my favorite toy as a child?: I have no idea

139: Favorite Tv Show?: American Horror Story, Bob’s Burgers, The Office, or Drunk History

140: Where do I want to live when older?: New Hampshire

141: Play any musical instrument?: I can play the violin and piano and can also sing but idk if that counts lmao

142: One of my scars, how did I get it?: its barely noticeable but literally right under my left eye (like right at the edge of my dark circle lmao) I got attacked by a dog and it bit me in the face and I had to get stitches but I bitched out and had it glued instead lmao

143: Favorite pizza topping? cheese

144: Am I afraid of the dark?: depends where I am

145: Am I afraid of heights?: ye

146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?:nah

147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?: haha yeah

148: What I’m really bad at: everything

149: What my greatest achievements are: I fucking graduated from high school. Like I would never wish what I went through on anyone ever not even my worst enemy. It was worse than hell

150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me: I honestly dont remember

151: What I’d do if I won in a lottery: lots of stuff

152: What do I like about myself: my eyebrows

153: My closest Tumblr friend: I cant say @bohoangel cause I’ve known her since 5th grade so I’ll say @bostonnanner even though we met on omegle years ago lmao

154: Something I fantasize about: lots of things

155: Any question you’d like?: literally whatever anyone wants to know

1 note · View note

blschaos3000-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Its 12:25 pm cloudy/humid/16

Welcome to 8 Questions with…..

One of the best things I like doing this series is just how randomly these interviews come together. Some interviews come after weeks or months of just casually talking with the person I am hoping to chat with and some interviews,like the one with our guest Cedric Gegel,happen after swapping 10 tweets. Of course when that tweet is about someone beating cancer’s ass,you just know I am all about talking with anyone who does that and that is how I met Cedric. We exchanged about 10 tweets and I just knew I wanted to know interview Cedric about his career as an actor and director. I’m so happy that Cedric agreed to chat because he has a lot to share and I really think you’re going to really enjoy his story and since there is a lot that Cedric has to share….let me get out of the way and let Cedric answer his 8 Questions………

Please introduce yourself and tell us about your most current project.

Hi! My name is Cedric Gegel, and I am an actor, screenwriter, and director, currently based in Philadelphia, PA and working wherever the films take me. I’ve got a couple of films on the docket as an actor that are coming up, but as a director and writer, I’m kind of involved in a few projects. The most exciting one is a drama coming up titled To A God Unknown (or The Color I Feel), which is an in-depth character study on mental health, the impact religion can have on it, and how relationships can play into how we heal. It’s a very personal project that is really invigorating for me, but it’s definitely heavy. I’m also currently working through about seven other concepts for films at varying stages of completion – for some, scripts have been started, for others, the only thing I have is a logline. It’s kind of an exciting time right now in that regard.

How have you been handling the pandemic? How have you kept yourself busy?

It’s been a struggle. Before the pandemic, I could always go to a park to get my thinking done or plan out my stories or reevaluate characters. The mind is where all films begin, and it is where all films are formed, so it needs to be engaged at all levels of the creative process. One of my peers said recently that directors need to be self-reflective, and I think that’s really true. So, unfortunately, with a lot of public spaces closed or not really functioning as a viable creative space, that’s been a bit of a struggle. I did learn to take and enjoy walks, which began as twenty minute exercises and eventually became an hour or longer as I re-learned how to engage my mental self. Obviously, I can’t really go to coffee shops at the moment, which is unfortunate because I like being able to go to a coffee shop and force myself to write. That said, it’s a lot cheaper to not go to coffee shops! Plus, I’ve tried to wean myself off of coffee during the pandemic. I was drinking three to four cups a day before this, and now I’m down to one or two a week. To really answer your question, it’s been hard to focus. I think that the world has been a bit exhausting as of late, and it’s important that we focus on that, but from a purely creative perspective, it’s been difficult to zero in and focus. I think there’s a mild responsibility on creators to make things that are life-giving and uplifting, at least to an extent and insofar as it serves the story. It has to be honest. Maybe I’m speaking more about myself there – I feel like the films I feel compelled to make during this time are films that lead to hope more than anything, but without being fake about it, and that’s difficult right now. That said, I did start a podcast where I interview fellow actors and writers and directors and composers and who knows what else, so that’s been really fun, and I have learned a lot from it. I’ve spent some time re-learning acting technique and getting back to basics, read some screenwriting textbooks, directed a virtual production of Edward III, recorded some scenes with other actors over Zoom, and other stuff, so I’ve been trying to stay engaged and active with my creative self. I think that’s really important.

You just received news that you are a cancer survivor! Can you share with us a little about your ordeal? How do you feel when you don’t see people mask up for Covid-19?

Oh gosh. Yeah. What a journey. I was diagnosed in 2015, just a few weeks after officially “starting” my acting career and literal days after the end of my sophomore year of college. I had epithelioid hemangioendothelioma, more simply described as being blood vessel cancer. It’s pretty rare, and mine happened to be in my left elbow. We discussed a variety of options, including surgeries, chemo, radiation, amputation, and just doing nothing. In the end, given how much damage was already occurring, we decided on a combination of surgeries and radiation therapy, which was going to (hopefully) allow me to keep my arm. To be blunt, it was quite a painful and miserable process, and I underwent an enormous amount of personal change that summer. I became much more quiet and introverted. I lived by myself and had to work several jobs to be able to pay for everything. It was a bit brutal at times. I also really engaged my faith at that time. I’m a devout Christian, but an experience like that really starts to challenge your perspective and beliefs. My relationship with God changed enormously. I think my faith became a much deeper, more rooted, and more confused thing. The more I learned, the less that made sense, and the more fluid and wondrous God became. Then I started engaging more with the books of James and Ecclesiastes in the Bible, and learned that this process is a really healthy thing. That’s what really kept me going. As of last Monday, I found out that I no longer need to be followed by a doctor. No more cancer check-ups! After four surgeries (initial biopsy, elbow scope, installation of a plate and six screws, and removal of a screw that was bending inside the elbow, which is incredibly painful and I do not recommend), dozens of days of radiation therapy, and years of careful work to learn the “new normal” of my body, they do not think the cancer will come back. I still have to do physical therapy and deal with daily chronic pain, but, as I recently realized, as much as the pain in my elbow hurts, I should be thankful that I have an arm to begin with. I get really frustrated when I see people not wearing masks. My cancer makes me a bit more susceptible, but it’s really my blood disorder (I’m a walking bag of medical fun) that makes me angry. I’m on blood thinners because my blood clots really fast – I’ve had two or three deep vein blood clots in my life so far, and I’m only 25, along with several superficial clots – and I don’t understand why people can’t just put on a mask. Just wear it around other people. Not everything is about you. Care about other people, grow up, and do your part. Your selfishness is killing people and it’s awful to watch. Not to mention, a lot of the people that think masks are “oppression” – and we don’t have time to unpack all of that ridiculousness – are the same people claiming that the economy needs to reopen. Well, folks, I don’t want to have to go back to basics here, but is it not obvious? If the economy reopens and you don’t wear a mask, more people are going to die, and we will likely get a second wave. It’s called cause-and-effect. It’s not all that difficult. I want things to reopen too. I had several films get cancelled because of this, and many have lost their funding. I haven’t been on set in forever, and voice acting is great, but there’s just not enough happening at this moment in time. What I am not willing to do is see people die because I wanted to go play professional dress-up in front of a camera. We need to be careful here. Wear masks, encourage social distancing. It’s not hard. It’s really not.

How did you get your start in the acting world?

I was very blessed to have parents and siblings with an appreciation for the art. From a very young age, I can remember my father telling me about certain things actors and singers were doing and why. I remember my mother reading stories to us and using character voices, and encouraging us as we got older to read fantasy books and use our imaginations. We didn’t have many TV channels growing up, so the vast majority of my childhood was spent with my nose in a book or playing outside with my siblings, Salon, Tori, and Austin. They’re all very different and very intelligent and very creative, and I think we all benefited from that combination of reading and adventuring in the small woods behind our house or playing in the backyard. My father is also a very funny character actor, and my mother has this genuine warmth about her, and I think both of them impacted me in that way. My parents put us in dance classes when we were very young, and I got to study jazz and lyrical (among other things, but those were my main focus). I always found that I was interested in the “why” of the dance instead of the “how,” which I think shows that I was leaning more into acting from that point. My older sister, Tori, was a really lovely ballerina, which I wish I had studied, but watching her and her peers perform taught me a lot about nonverbal characters. My twin sister, Salon, ended up getting a degree in dance from Bowling Green State University, and her approach to choreography and performance is really character-driven. My younger brother, Austin, is brilliant with accents and comedic timing. There must’ve been something in the food Mom and Dad used to feed us. Anyway, acting. My freshman year of high school, our choir director announced that they were doing Fiddler on the Roof. My parents decided to show us this movie. I wasn’t put off by it being older, since we had grown up on DVDs of The Andy Griffith Show and Gomer Pyle USMC and I Love Lucy, and I had loved movies like The Sound of Music. I watched the movie and knew I wanted to be a part of the show. I was cast as Nachum the Beggar and a Russian Soldier, and I had the time of my life. At the same time, I started in show choir at the high school, which is a choir that sings and dances and competes around the area. Throughout high school, I did all the musicals (Joseph Buquet in Phantom of the Opera, my first lead role as Captain von Trapp in The Sound of Music, and Prince Dauntless in Once Upon a Mattress) and did show choir, competing in competitions across Ohio and Indiana, and I think we went to West Virginia – maybe Kentucky too? Lots of places. I loved acting, but knew it wasn’t a “sure thing” as a career, so I decided to go to college for business. After a few weeks, I changed to education, and then, after much urging from both the theatre faculty and the education faculty, I changed my major to Theatre Studies and decided to do the thing. I was lucky that Capital University allowed non-theatre majors to do plays, so I had the opportunity to be on stage early in my first year there and discover that my passion for acting could actually be a lifelong endeavor.

You attended Capitol University in Ohio…..what was your experience there like? In your opinion,is a formal acting education better than a practical one? What do you think you got from college that you wouldn’t have gotten without attending school?

I loved Capital University. I still love it. It’s a place where I was challenged and inspired. I think the very fact that my education professors were willing to push me and tell me that, even though they thought I would make a good teacher, I needed to be an actor. They were right, but I needed to hear it from people I trusted. I needed to know that it was okay to take that risk. I absolutely, in no way, unequivocally feel that a practical education is, in every way, superior to a formal one. That does not mean that a formal education is bad, and I would advocate for combining the two, but let’s be honest: if I’m boarding a plane flying from NYC to Berlin, do I want a pilot that has gone through four years of school and knows everything but has never flown, or do I want the self-taught pilot that’s been flying from NYC to Berlin every day for four years without incident? Again, I don’t mean to say that a formal education is bad. It’s not. Mine was enormously influential. I would not have a career if it were not for Dr. Bill Kennedy, Dr. Dan Heaton, Dr. Sharon Croft, Jeff Gress, and the late Mark Baker at Capital. The thing that was so wonderful about Capital was that I was taught theory – I learned aspects of Stanislavski and Strasberg and Chekhov, but I also got to learn the Kennedy method from Dr. Kennedy. I learned what I would call the Heaton method from Dr. Heaton. I developed what one might call the Gegel method, if one was bored enough to do so, which is a combination of the things that work for me. Not every strategy and theory works for everyone. At Capital, there was no strict dogma that was forced down my throat. I was given the opportunity to study and learn and steal what I felt would work for me. Then, it was up to me to implement it. If I hadn’t engaged with Shakespeare on an academic level, if I hadn’t learned directing and scenic design and lighting and magic from those professors, I wouldn’t be where I am. None of that is to say that I couldn’t have picked up on those things from a practical career. I think it comes down to the individual. To someone that is considering a formal education, I would just encourage them to look at schools and find a place that works for you as a human. Capital isn’t strictly an acting school. Most of the Theatre Studies majors weren’t necessarily there to be actors. As a result, I had this weird and eclectic group of well-spoken theatre nerds that thought differently than me and that made me a better actor. If you can’t afford school or don’t want to take those years to focus on academics, then be prepared to hustle every day. Capital was essential to my development of a network that I could work in. I guess, to summarize: Acting is a physical, practical career. You can only truly learn acting by acting. Because of that, the practical education will always be superior. But I do not regret my formal education, and I do not believe I would have a career without it. For me, the educational foundation allowed me to explore the practicality of it. It’s up to the individual. Oh, and if you are considering a formal education… check out Capital University in Columbus, Ohio. It’s a great place.

From an actor’s point of view,why are short films so important? What was your experience like on your first film,”Fracture”?

That’s a great question. Short films can almost feel like internships for an actor. They’re a chance to explore physicality and choices on a smaller scale, and to create a character arc in a short amount of time. They’re a great training ground, and a really great chance to meet and connect with other actors and with filmmakers. They can also be amazing professional experiences, and they give you a great deal of footage for an acting reel that can help you land a feature film or an agent or anything like that. My first film, Fracture, was definitely an interesting experience. I think we filmed it during my second year of college. The cinematographer, Dan Stemen, was in a play with me, and asked me if I wanted to be in this short film they were shooting on campus. I knew the director, Alex Caperton, and was game to try it. I had never even studied film acting before, and it was a brutal crash course in consistency between takes and being more subtle for the camera and all of the stuff that any basic technique book would tell you. Let that detail how important short films are, though. That cinematographer, Dan? He was the cinematographer of my feature film, Cadia: The World Within. He’s one of my best friends to this day. He’s since placed at several festivals and even won a regional EMMY Award for his lighting and camerawork. I’m blessed to know him and have had the chance to work with him so early in my career. This industry is all about the connections you make. Dan’s one of the best.

What three things do you like most about films? What three things do you like about live theater? If given a choice,would you rather star in a revival of a known hit play or tackle a new original play and why?

Wow. Okay. Tough one there.

Three things I like most about films:

1. It’s a deeply intricate process to watch unfold, and to see everyone doing their jobs as part of the system is really beautiful in a fragile sort of way. You have to trust each person to do their jobs and do them well.

2. It’s so wildly specific. The coffee mug has to be moved by a centimeter so that the light hits it right. Your eye has to look in the eye of your scene partner that is closest to the camera so that your face is more fully framed. You have exactly forty-five minutes to shoot a whole scene before sunset and the light is gone. It’s so intense and I love it.

3. It’s a bit more immersive than theatre tends to be. Scene is in a forest? You’re likely filming in a forest. Scene in a school? You’re filming in a school. It’s very in-the-moment and it’s cool to actually be in that space.

Theatre:

1. The danger. If you forget a line in front of a live audience, no one is calling cut. There’s no resetting the lights and going again. You have to figure it out. You’d better hit your mark for the spotlight and remember your lyrics for the big end-of-act-one closer, or the entire audience will make fun of you at intermission.

2. Theatre tends to have a very family feel to it. In film, you often meet a co-star on the day you film a scene with them. In theatre, there are weeks of rehearsals and time and laughter. You get to know everyone and have these little inside jokes and find the right moments on stage. It’s a very tight-knit group, which makes it really sad when the run ends and the show is over.

3. It feels like you are a part of history. Film is amazing and has a rich history, but theatre has been around for thousands of years. Hamlet has been moving audiences to tears for hundreds of years. Antigone has been frustrating audiences for thousands. Hamilton has been stunning audiences for, like, five years – but to be fair, it feels like centuries. Storytelling is the oldest form of communication among humans, and carrying on that tradition in front of a live audience is a really special experience. As for the last question, that’s easy: I’d rather play Jean Valjean in a revival of Les Mis. It’s my favorite musical and my dream role. Other than that, I’d be happy to do either, but if given the chance, that’s the answer.

How do you like directing and what has surprised you most in sliding behind the camera? How do you approach a directing job versus an acting role?

Another great question. I love directing. I love the unified vision and watching that which is in my mind became a real, tangible thing. I think the thing that surprised me is that I don’t have to know everything. That’s what the team is for. I learned that lesson pretty hard on my first film, Cadia. I put too much pressure on myself. The job is to direct, not dictate. You have to give freedom to your team to create and craft in their own ways, and trust the artists you’ve hired. I’ve directed a bit for theatre, and I’ve enjoyed it, but directing for film is a whole different beast. You’ve got to fight with the weather, the locations, and, most of all, the budget. It’s a really draining thing, and you really have to love it. The worst and best moments come when things fall apart, and everyone looks to you for an answer. You either give one or you make one up. There is no one else to look to. That’s a very scary and powerful moment, but if you’ve built a good team, it’s a moment that can change your film for the better. Approaching a directing job is entirely different. With acting, it’s a very narrow focus. I make my choices, and once they put me in costume and I get on set, the magic happens and it’s lovely. In directing, there are so many minute details to keep track of. It takes a great deal of work ahead of time to plan the shots and lighting and everything you need. I learned a lot on my first film that I can’t wait to implement on this next project. Mistakes made are lessons learned, and I’m very proud of the film we made. I’m just very excited to get better.

Tell us about your biggest project to date,”Cadia: The World Within”. How did this project come together? How much influence did C.S. Lewis have in your screenplay? How did Corbin Bernsen get involved with your film?

Yeah! Cadia: The World Within is a really crazy story, and I’m honestly still shocked that it ever happened. I wrote it for three triplets, Keegan, Carly, and Tanner Sells, who I met during a production of The Addams Family Musical. I was young and naive and thought making the movie would be simple – we’d just do a goofy little thing and learn something and move on. Eventually, I realized the story could be something special, and with the help of a great deal of people more clever and capable than I, we built the project. CS Lewis definitely had an enormous impact. I’m a huge Narnia fan (Netflix, if you read this, I’m available for your adaptation). I think Lewis and JK Rowling and JRR Tolkein and Chris Paolini (Chris, if you’re reading this, let’s talk about Eragon, because you deserve a good adaptation) wielded significant impact over this story. Not just their fantasy work, either – their ability to weave spirituality and morality and create interesting characters was something I learned a lot from. A friend I met during a production of Hamlet, Zach Throne, offered his help in mounting the project, and we formed our company, Just a Skosh Productions LLC, which was the official version of the production company Dan Stemen (the aforementioned DP) and I had been operating under during the previous years as we honed our work on short films. Zach and I began to raise money through investors and donations, using our personal and film networks. It was a grind and it was really, really trying, but we did it. Eventually, the conversation turned to casting. I loved Psych and so loved Corbin Bernsen, but we certainly didn’t think that was realistic. That said, you’re a fool if you don’t try, so try we did. We made an offer and sent the screenplay, Corbin’s manager said he’s get back to us, and the next day, we learned that Corbin was in. I was floored. He’s such a gifted actor and a really genuinely kind person, and I’m really grateful to know him. He’s got some really exciting stuff in the works and I can’t wait to see what he comes out with. We were blessed to have him on this production, and he was really, really amazing in his work with the triplets and with the awesome Dillon Perry, who was another one of our leads. Corbin’s such a professional, but he’s also so down-to-earth. We were, obviously, also quite blessed to bring in James Phelps, who played Fred Weasley in the Harry Potter films. He’s incredibly gifted as an actor, and he’s a really chill, funny person. He brings so much charisma and charm to his role, and I’m really glad to have gotten to know him, too. He’s one of the good guys in this industry, and I’m so grateful to have gotten to work with him and get to know him. We also managed to bring in some other great actors. John Wells, whom I had done a TV pilot with, signed on as Elza, and he was perfect for the part. Nicky Buggs, who appeared in Secret Life of Bees, does a wonderful job as Alice. Rick Montgomery Jr gives a really honest, understated, lovely performance as Shiloh. We were really lucky with the whole cast. I don’t think there’s a single one of them that can’t go stride-for-stride on any film set.

Do you feel Hollywood exploits the faith based movie genre?

That’s a complex question. I don’t, no – but I do feel like the faith-based movie genre can sometimes exploit themselves. As someone who is a devout Christian, it really bothers me to watch Christian filmmakers and fans victimize themselves when people don’t like their movies. It often has less to do with their religious beliefs, and more to do with the simple concept that some of these movies just aren’t good. These same critics are lambasting secular films for the same reason. Poor writing, bad acting, unrealistic dialogue – people don’t like those in movies, no matter the beliefs or genre. I don’t think it’s exploitation to make money off of films. The Erwin brothers and the Kendricks brothers are making their films for their audiences, and for the films they are trying to make, they’re making them well. They’re making them with good intentions and with sound camera work and lighting and people enjoy them. In my opinion, they are, for the most part, making sermons, mostly for Christian audiences, and that is okay. You can’t tell me that Spotlight, which is a brilliant film, wasn’t, in some ways, a sermon of its own. It was a sermon – maybe even a dissertation? – about the corruption of the Church and the moral and legal decay that occurred. That’s an important story to tell, but it was still a specific story with a specific goal. There are more mainstream films that are still deeply Christian in nature. The Book of Eli. The Chronicles of Narnia. Blade Runner. The list goes on. There are different ways to approach that aspect of spirituality, and Christian films can tend to run the spectrum of being more of a sermon to being more of a general film with spiritual influence. I’ve seen other projects – most recently, I watched Unorthodox on Netflix, as well as Greenleaf (my wife was watching them, and I tangentially absorbed them) that deal with spiritual and religious realities in a different way. I don’t inherently see any as more or less valid. It seems like a deeply personal preference. I do think that some of the criticism of Christian films is pretty off-base – the critics aren’t exactly understanding what they films are trying to do. You don’t go see My Little Pony and write a bad review when it isn’t The Shawshank Redemption. The Hunger Games isn’t about to be Little Women.They’re different films. Different genres. Some of these films are more about the message than the film, and that is okay. I wasn’t trying to win an Oscar with Cadia, I was trying to make a message of hope and love. It’s not the best screenplay in the world. It wasn’t supposed to be. Some of these films are labelled as “emotionally manipulative” and “trying to push religion,” and I’m, like, yeah. Of course they are. All films are trying to push something. I do think some critics get upset about the religion specifically, and I do think that is unfair. You have to evaluate the goal of the art and see it for what it is. Maybe, after you do that, the movie is still bad, and that’s entirely acceptable. I think it’s tough. It’s unfair to give a bad review to a movie just because you disagree with it’s messaging. You have to evaluate the art on the merit of the argument they make and how well they make it. I think it’s silly when I read reviews that say things like, “[Insert filmmaker here] was clearly trying to push their own belief system.” Yeah. Duh. Of course they were. Films are personal. Joker probably reflects some element of Todd Phillips’ truth. 1917 and Parasite both touched on the truths and beliefs of Sam Mendes and Bong Joon Ho. Queen of Katwe contains some part of Mira Nair’s understanding of the world around her. I don’t see why we can’t give religion the same reign. I absolutely understand condemning a film due to bigotry and hatred, but you’ll really rarely see a major religious film from a significant studio that is encroaching on that. Making a claim that Jesus Christ is the savior isn’t bigotry. As a Christian, I don’t mind watching films where they claim Jesus is only human, or that Islam is the truth, or that God is just a big imaginary friend in the sky. It’s just a different belief system. It’s art. Accept it and move on. It’s really very nuanced. Yes, Hollywood is willing to make films that play on the fears and anxieties of certain people, and that’s morally problematic; on the other hand, some filmmakers I know are unwilling or unable to acknowledge that their films have deep flaws. Both are problematic. I just don’t see Hollywood as being the big, bad agent of Satan that many of my peers seem to. I see Hollywood as being the business part of show business. Christian films make money, so they make Christian films. People drink coffee, so Keurig makes coffee makers. The world continues to go around the sun. That’s the way our society is structured.

You are at an audition and a fellow actor who is also trying for the same role as you asks for your help. Are you helping them or not and why?

Of course. No debate. I’ll help them in a heartbeat, and I’d hope they do the same. Casting isn’t up to me to begin with. We should all be supporting each other to begin with. I remember auditioning for The Little Mermaid. I did all my work as best as I could, and I sang the song as well as I could, and I think I did a good job. I did the best job I could. Then Jordan Young started singing and he blew me out of the water. I knew I had lost the part. I found him after the audition and congratulated him. We became friends, and we still support one another. I’ve even sent auditions to friends and they’ve beaten me for the part. It’s not a competition. Casting is going to cast the actor that they want, and the only thing we can control is our own performance. Anyone who answers otherwise to this question is a sad excuse for an actor and should get out of the industry now. That’s a toxic attitude and it’s problematic.

How did you meet your wife and how do the two of you balance your personal life and professional one?

We met in college in a Public Relations class at Capital. Became friends and started dating. We started dating my junior year and got engaged at the end of my senior year. We got married the summer after, a few weeks after she graduated. Since then, we’ve moved to Philadelphia, where she’s begun her studies at seminary to become a pastor in the ELCA. A lot of balancing our lives is understanding the weirdness of what we do – she is going to be shepherding churches and be with people during their dying moments and counsel people through the hardest moments of their lives, and I leave for days/weeks/months on a job and pretend to be someone else and sometimes work fifteen hour days in the sun and all the other things. Which also describes being a spy. That would be cool too, I guess.

It takes balance. I told her when we first started dating that my career is weird and that it would just have to be accepted, and we’ve since had the same discussion about hers. It’s an adventure. Our personal lives are pretty simple. We like to cook. We like to watch shows and movies together. We just finished Avatar: The Last Airbender. We play a lot of Call of Duty. We play a lot of board games. It’s a simple life, to quote Rogue One.

The cheetah and I are flying over to watch you shoot your latest film but we are a day early and now you are stuck playing tour guide,what are we doing?

Ooh. I’m going to answer this for two cities: my Philly/NYC work, and my directing work back in Columbus, which I where I prefer to shoot my films.

Philly/NYC: We’re definitely hitting up the Liberty Bell and Constitution Center, because they’re just plain neat. Then we’ll stroll through Love Park and probably head to the Rocky Steps. If we’ve got time, we’ll do a quick hike at the Wissahickon and enjoy the forest there, maybe even spot some river otters. Then we’ll grab a cheese steak (I haven’t had one since I moved here, so I’ll be a tourist with you) and maybe try to catch a play at the Arden or the Walnut Street Theatre.

If I’m filming in NYC, we’ll keep it simple. Walk through Central Park, grab some bubble tea, then people watch for as long as we can before we grab tacos at Oaxaca Taqueria in Hell’s Kitchen. Chill day.

If we’re in Columbus, we’re going to run the obstacle course at the Scioto Audubon, grab a light snack at Stauf’s Coffee, and explore the thirty-two room labyrinthian bookstore known as the legendary Book Loft. Then we’ll maybe catch an afternoon game with the Columbus Clippers before grabbing a coffee at the Roosevelt Coffeehouse, dinner at Schmidt’s Sausage Haus or The Thurman Cafe, and then see the Actors’ Theatre of Columbus do some Shakespeare in the park. That’ll be a fun day.

I like to thank Cedric for taking the time in giving us a top level interview. I enjoyed getting to know Cedric through his words and have nothing but respect for him and his vision. We’re looking forward to seeing Cedric’s work both in front and behind the camera. Of course we’re also praying for Cedric and his bionic arm to stay healthy as well!!

You can follow Cedric’s career via his Social Media.

SOCIAL MEDIA:

Cedric’s IMDb page

Cedric’s Podcast: You can find it here and on Spotify

Cedric’s Twitter

Cedric’s Instagram page

Cedric’s Facebook page

Cedric’s YouTube Channel

Cedric’s personal website

Feel free to drop a comment below!! 8 Questions with……….actor/director Cedric Gegel Its 12:25 pm cloudy/humid/16 Welcome to 8 Questions with..... One of the best things I like doing this series is just how randomly these interviews come together.

#8 Questions With #Capitol University #Cedric Gegel #Columbus Ohio #Film director #indie film makers #interviews #relationships #Rising star

0 notes