#Everett Community College

[random-remzy]

Look at my baby chat <3

i'm gonna send him to med school and make him so fucking sad just you watch-

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (part 3)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 2, Part 4

summary: A bad day turns even worse. Miguel surprises you.

warnings: angst angst angst, mentions of grief, very vague mention of domestic violence and abuse.

recommended reading: the painting Ophelia by John Everett Millais, and the song Ophelia by the lumineers.

a/n: i lowkey suck at communicating my "big" ideas so i really really hope this makes sense!

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 3.8k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

they were here, she says,

You’ve had your share of bad days.

Oh God , enough to fill an A4 binder with. For example, knocking out that tooth when you were twelve. A butterfly effect of fuck ups that led to a scuffle at school: blood in your mouth, a tooth on the ground, and a looong suspension. You received quite the earful at home, that day. 

And then there was telling your parents you had dropped out of college. Telling them you were moving halfway across the country with your boyfriend. Breaking up with said boyfriend in your favourite diner; thus sullying Pam’s waffles and pancakes with the bitter taste of… oh-fuck-I-don’t-know-how-I’ll-afford-an-apartment-now. Oh, and heartbreak – although that wasn’t as immediate. 

Scratch that, the day of the breakup had been fairly mundane. Pleasant, even. Jamie had an off day, and you only had a few lectures. He didn’t tell you, of course, so meeting him in the apartment was a surprise. You’re home earlier than usual, and you can’t quite bear to wake him up; slumped on the sofa like an old cat. He’s tired, lectures and clerkships running him ragged for the past few years. Only a year out until residency, with bags under his eyes as proof, and you see him less and less.  All things considered, you’re glad to spend the rest of the day with him. 

You’d spent too long after the break up analysing the days leading up to it: for a sign, something in his behaviour that would’ve warned you. And so, you remember it quite vividly: kicking your shoes off, putting your bag down, and sinking into the sofa next to him. You curl into him, looking up at his face: steady, tempered breathing. Something at your chest, solid and heavy. He looks peaceful, happy; and you haven't seen that side of him in quite a while. 

When you shift against him, you knock against his shoulder. Jamie stirs, groggy, and eyes adjusting to the light. The first thing he sees as he wakes is you; romantic, in theory. His expression is etched into your subconscious; stark and stiff like a marble statue, or a tombstone. A flash of disappointment, lip drawn in what seemed like disgust – but only for a moment.  

" Morning , baby." You squeeze his side, and take his hand into yours. That look ; it's gone almost as quickly as it came. 

"Thought…" He frowns, fighting dregs of sleep. "I thought you would be back later."

"Nope." You give him a smile and he returns with one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He puts a hand on your cheek. 

"Morning," Probably tired, he sighs deeply. You move on with the day. And he breaks up with you, not even 6 hours later.

You had had 4 years of that: good days, bad days, but most of them had been… mundane. Boring. Not quite the heat and intensity of true love, as the movies had gaslighted you into believing in. 

You like the old black and white ones the best. Old fashioned, old-timey folk; declarations of love in tinny transatlantic accents. Suddenly, you’re on the floor of your childhood bedroom; eyes wide at the Sound of Music. Maria and Von Trapp hand in hand: her dress billowing, the flash of white glove on the small of her back. Love, love, love; and your lack of it.

You feel its loss all the same. 

Despite all your efforts – including a dash to the station that could rival an Olympic sprinter – you were late to your first lecture. Sweaty, out of breath, and ambushed with a pen and paper; thrust into your hands on arrival. You look around to see dozens of heads down, scribbling furiously. A surprise test – and you’re late.

Hand aching, you barely finish within the two hours, after bullshitting your way through at least half of the questions. By the looks of the people streaming out of the hall; faces rumpled and grimacing; you’re not the only one. However, it does little to comfort you. You’re sure you're the only one failing so spectacularly, with the semester already half over. 

You'd smacked your leg on the coffee table on the way out and a book had slammed to the floor. An art book, the kind in a model home - and you know damn well Miguel's not an enthusiast. The image sticks for some reason, leg aching as you trudge to your next class. When he gives you that blank look; the memory of men gone past is haunting – dead-eyed, and blank, like eyes cut out of a painting. You wonder if a Van Gogh would feel the same with the brilliant blue of eyes slashed out. 

Nevertheless, you feel like lead. Off

to your next class, and it's going over material passed out the day before; which you didn’t have the time to look over. The professor drones on; voice monotonous and gravelly. Struggling to keep up, you sink into your seat – tapping away at your laptop, whatever you can get down. You pick at your lip, unravelling; unfurling like the tip of a slashed rope.

That's what you’re waiting for, you think: sandbags clattering down from stage left, to bring the rest of this whole farce down.

A sinking feeling, that starts at your chest and makes its way to the tops of your fingers and toes, leaves you numb for the rest of the day. Dread, like a shadow, at your heels in the corridors, across the courtyard, all around campus. Another lecture, and you make it in time for labs, barely, but there’s no time to go over notes; what you managed to scrape together in preparation. And of course , your lab partner’s sick, because that’s just the kind of day you’re having. It’s hectic, doing the work of two people with only the scraps you’ve cobbled together. 

The pressure mounts. Like liquid in that flask you weren’t meant to stopper; and you just might end up like its remnants on the counter. Glass everywhere but where it should be. For a good grade, it helps to be organised: everything in its place, always. Except it isn’t, and you’ve fucked it up, again . It means the results don’t match up in your lab book, and another hour staring at liquid decanting, monitoring temperatures. Staring at stark white walls, with achy legs. 

You step out whilst machines run in your stead, and shed your lab coat. It’s hot and stuffy in there but out in the corridor, you can finally breathe. Forehead on the cool wall, it all stops for a moment. The persistent buzz of your phone, sat in the pocket of your trousers, creeps into the quiet. 

Absent-mindedly, you turn it on with a click. The buzzing stops. You’ve just missed a call from Miguel. It’s odd, he doesn’t usually call, but it’s the little box underneath the notification that makes you pause. A message, from a number you thought you’d blocked – that you should’ve blocked. 

From:Jamie <3

Hey

From:Jamie <3

We should meet. I’ve still got some of your things in the apartment.

Your blood runs cold. Dread, like a shadow; its hand wrapped your neck. You can’t breathe, stuck under the weight of something at your chest. You can’t breathe, the walls close in. We should meet , he says. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world; just friends catching up over a coffee. Like you didn’t watch him carve out a chunk of your heart with a rusty spoon. 

A panic attack, and you’re awkwardly hunched over by the wall, phone in hand. Someone will find you here, lying on the vinyl floor in Block B, spread eagle between lab 6 and 7. Dramatic timing, but if it kills you; you’ll find a way to haunt your ex's ass for the foreseeable future. And Miguel’s too, because if you’re having a bad day; then somewhere out there, he’s having a good one. 

~~~

The apartment is still when Miguel gets back – unusually so. You’re not on the sofa, watching a mindless soap opera, or howling some song in the shower. And he’s had to deal with that most days for the past few weeks, a break in the peace and quiet he’s so carefully cultivated. Rigorous routine, they keep him together. He needed it; the way myth needs a martyr, the way flowers on a small grave needs a body. A tick-tick-tick in his head, that drives him a little less crazy after a morning run, or a good meal when he comes home. A countdown, he thinks, a mechanical clock whirring and puttering with a shake of its gears. He feels them stutter and start, slowing down, but not quite stopping. An ache so deep, he feels its creak with every step. 

Absent-mindedly, he looks around the empty apartment, pulling at his ears.

When he was younger, Gabi would pull at his ears, to get him out of a book. Reading, always reading, whenever he could. At the dinner table, when his mamá would rap his knuckles with a wooden spoon and chuckle lightly at his little grimace. No en la mesa, Miguelito. Not at the table, Miggy. Léeme más tarde – read it to me later.

It was when he got his braces, and picked up a slight lisp. He stopped talking for a while, not completely; but a lot less, not as interactive in lessons. And it was always little Miguel, at the front of the class with his hand up to answer. It didn’t help that Gabi poked fun at him, often sneaking up to him to hiss in his ear: palms pressed together with a slithering motion, and then a strike to his ribs like una víbora - a viper , struggling to say his S’s. They’d fight because of it after, tousling on the floor of their bedroom in a mass of limbs, like pythons squeezing prey. Or at least, until their mamá rushed to separate them. 

She didn’t like it when her boys fought; so they’d been forced to make up every time. He still has the scars to prove it.

Car magazines at first, and then the newspaper, whatever book he had picked up at the library that week. Even with his lisp, his mother made sure he read to her, and sometimes to Gabi as well, at least once a week. Looking back, she was never perfect; the things he knows now about his dear mamá, and her visage tumbles like Ozymandias in the sand. Her mother, married to a piece-of-shit mechanic; and his mother, elbow deep in the oil spill. That’s the funny thing about love, he thinks. Love, and the lack of it; dripping through the cracks, passed on through generations. Maybe mamá felt the gears shuddering in her chest. He hopes Gabi was saved from that burden. 

A small voice at the back of his mind tells him: it’s not enough. Doesn’t explain the little boy pulling at his ears, in Miguel’s jacket and dress shoes.

A glimpse in the reflection of a shiny pan on the side table, and he looks like shit. Eyebags, a permanent scowl, shadowy lines that prick at the corners of his eyes. It’s ironic, crows feet without the penchant for laughing. He thinks you’d find it funny. The pink and purple of a setting sun spills in through windows and makes him sigh. It’s late, and you’re still not home. 

God, you're strange; sticking your nose where you shouldn't. Disrupting the calm of his apartment. A sanctuary, and you've got your grubby paws all over it. Your shit is all over the place; pun-based mugs in the cabinet, chewed pen lids with no pens in sight, a blanket on the couch. The same blanket, a ratty old thing, that he usually meets you wrapped in when he gets back. A creature of habit, he folds it up; trying to ignore the whispers of your perfume, sweet and heady on the fabric.

He gets dressed, starting with dinner; knife on a chopping board cutting onions and peppers into cubes. It's therapeutic, the steady thud ringing out into the kitchen. Quiet, for a fleeting moment. But the worry, it sticks ; despite his better judgement. Before he changes his mind, he clicks open his phone to call you. It rings out – you don’t pick up.

The urge to call again is surprisingly troublesome, so he shoves it down with a piece of tortilla. It sits in his chest, regardless.

~~~

You trudge into the apartment. Squelch seems more accurate, sopping wet as you step out of waterlogged trainers. It was an inopportune time to wear jeans and forget a jacket – and you fight the urge to wring out onto the wooden planks. Miguel would kill you; the place was already falling apart, and water-warped floorboards might just be the last straw.

It’s thundering outside; a torrential downpour you’d just been dragged through. Dragged, half-running through streets-turned-streams, with nothing but a tank top and hoodie on your back. And you must look a sight , eyes bleary and slick with rainwater. The bag heavy on your back goes first, slipped off your shoulder and on the floor next to the coffee table with a thunk . You’re unzipping the flimsy canvas, inspecting its contents. A soaked through textbook, clumps of loose paper. You’re ready to cry when you see what's happened to the pages of your lab book; bleeding ink that’s only half-legible. But it’s the state of your laptop that makes your chest really heave and knees weak.

It’s slick with rainwater, and the sandwich you’d forgotten to eat, smeared across its fans. Caked on, more accurately; an odd sludge that you try your best to wipe away. You put it on the coffee table and your hand shakes as you press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. 

You sink onto the floor, head in your hands between the coffee table and the couch. Everything was on there: photos from senior prom, end of semester projects – your whole life. You have to dig your teeth into your bottom lip to bite back a scream.

Miguel peers from the kitchen, watching your silent breakdown. Quiet, and so still, with only the slight shake of shoulders to tell him that something is wrong. He glances at your half-opened laptop. He’d eaten already, clearing up what remains of his dinner and this is the sight he’s greeted with: the lady of the lake, lain between the reeds. 

He shakes the image out of his head, and walks over. You feel a tentative prod, and look up.

“...I called you,” He says lightly, scratching at his neck.

You blink up at him. He thinks you look like a painting, watery and forlorn, framed in the yellow light of the soft bulbs.

“I was busy,” It’s not said with malice, nor as lilting as your usual sarcasm. Plain, simple. Busy. Your head slumps back into the little hollow you’ve made with your arms.

And so he sits, shoulders brushing against yours. He’s frustratingly patient, presence warm and comfortable despite… well, despite everything. 

You can’t help it. Popping back up, you state, “You never call, though.”

“You’re never this late home.” Home. The word is heavy, knocks you onto your heels.

“So?” You shrug. “Could’ve been out with friends, or at a club–”

Laughter slips out like apples loose in a bag, spills onto the floor. Crisp, sweet; but you glare at him all the same. 

“You don’t have friends.” He says it with the remnants of a smile, teasing. A challenge, and you’re more than happy to accept. 

“ Not true , fuckface.” It is. You'd lost track of most of your friends after moving – and all the ones you made here? Your friends were Jamie's friends, and they chose him  in the divorce. " You don't have any friends."

"I do ."

"You don't." It's your turn to scoff. "It's a Friday night and you're in here, washing up and planning to go to bed at a reasonable time."

"I'm an adult, doesn't mean I don't have–" 

"The ones you fuck don't count." And then you pinch the bridge of your nose. "God forbid, if that's how you treat your friends…" 

He laughs, properly, and you feel it in your chest too: the kind of laughter that bubbles like little breaths rising to the top of a lake. 

“M’serious.” He says it in between gasping breaths and you try to steady your own giggles. "And, I have a friend who could take a look at your laptop, if you wanted."

His eyes flick over to the crime scene besides you. It's sweet, but.. "It's gone, Miguel, I know. You don't need to… try and make me feel better."

" Chula ," He flicks the deep lines forming at your brow. You look up and he says, softly, "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to get you off of the floor so I can mop up that puddle."

With the way he says it, with that little smile, you don't believe him. 

Now he's got your attention, he says, "You could've skipped that 9:00am. Or just been late. Don't think it would've mattered."

"Maybe." You shake your head. "M'not the best student. I'm blindingly… average. Just wanted it to be different, this year." 

Your voice crackles, leaves something in the air he can't quite name. Quiet, again, except this time it's thicker. Smoke, ash, rolling clouds of melancholy in the little front room. For once, he doesn't know what to say. 

You've got your head back on the sofa now, with a deep sigh. You look at the ceiling, and he's looking at you. It's the first time he's able to really study your features, trace the outline of your lips and sloping cheekbone. Your lashes, damp with little droplets of water, look crystalline in the light. Sparkling. Like the paintings depicted in the hefty book sat on his coffee table. He's read that one, twice , cover-to-cover in a fit of… insanity, maybe. He's not a man of frills and fancy, didn't really get it; nor why Gabi had given him the book in the first place. It felt like a filler piece, something to put on the little table and forget about, or to prop up a wooden leg. But that's not how his brother works, frustratingly convoluted. It's stupid, Miguel thought. Everything had to mean something , or what was it good for? 

But looking at you, here, like this ; it clicks. Reaching over for the book, he leans it against the flat of his thigh. And you see it in the corner of your eye, watching as he flicks through the pages. Filled with art, it's the kind of thing on a table in a model apartment: a space-filler in a false home. When you first came here, the starkness and severity of the space had stuck. To you, the book had only reinforced it. Who was Miguel? A serial killer for all you know, stocking fluff pieces and coffee table books; only pretending to be human.

Finally, he stops, finger over a specific place. A double page spread, of surprisingly good quality. 

He clicks his tongue. " This one. "

You follow his finger. A woman in a lake doesn't do it justice. It's beautiful, but it doesn't mean anything to you.

" Ophelia, John Everett Mills, 1852 ." He reads out the little label at the bottom of the image. "Like from Hamlet."

You shrug. "I don't…?"

"Well, she's in love with Hamlet, and then her father's murdered, Hamlet fucks off; and she's left heartbroken, goes mad because of it , arguably–" 

"I've taken tenth grade English, Miguel. I don't get what that has to do with anything."

"She drowns herself. Also arguably, to be fair," He chews his lip, thinking. "Slipped off the bark of a willow tree, into a brook. Incapable of her own distress, or something. Drowns. Do you know how horrible drowning feels? How violent? And yet–" 

He taps the page, and you come a little closer. Beautiful. She's beautiful. 

"I'll admit it, I'm not a big fan of Shakespeare. Gabi – my brother – is way better at this stuff than me. Drama and intrigue and–" He gestures vaguely. "– love . That's why he likes it, apparently. And I… I know someone who really liked this page; I think it was the colours, or the flowers…? She said it looked like a photo, and that the woman looked so pretty in the water."

He pauses, dead-eyed. He's rambling, only taking a breath to compose himself." I… didn't have the heart to tell her that Ophelia, in this painting, is dead. Dead as a fucking doornail. Dragged through still water, sentenced to death by her passivity and grief – but you wouldn't know it."

Unconsciously, you trace the outline of her hair with your finger; swirling locs that blend into muddy reflections. She's on her back and fully dressed; a beaded skirt billowing out into the water. On her back and looking up, like you were on the sofa just a moment ago. Oh. Oh . You blink at the image. Flowers, peppered around to frame Ophelia in her watery grave. It doesn't look like a grave from where you're sitting, but there's a body in the water all the same. 

There's a lump in your throat. Grief; the loss of 4 years of your life in a middling relationship, the aftermath of dead eyes and brilliant blue slashed from a canvas frame. Grief, rising to the surface like a bloated carcass. You thought you'd bound its ankles to cinder blocks and tossed it in a river long ago. 

"I'm probably overstepping. For that, I'm sorry, and I mean it. But I think there's something else. I..I hear you rattling around at night; and sometimes, when I look at you..." 

Your eyes are glassy, tears threatening to spill over. You’re hearing him but you don’t quite understand. Does he know? God, does he know?

"...it reminds me of this painting. You remind me of Ophelia .”

He sighs, turning to you.

“I know how it feels. And I think this shit is going to kill you, if you're not careful."

~~~

He doesn't talk about it. He runs off to start the shower, bundles you into towels and leaves you reeling. God, it's like you've been shot – barely a 10 minute conversation and he's cracked open your ribs to root around in what's left of you. He sees you; wades through the undergrowth and cuts through the bulllshit - he sees you. 

You couldn't even answer. That's what stings the most. 

You’ve settled on the sofa, cross-legged and still fresh from the shower. There’s a documentary on the TV; mindless background to Miguel clattering in the kitchen. He’s putting together some leftovers, even though you insisted that you weren’t hungry, that you’ve already eaten. Well , he had pointed to the gunk caked onto your laptop, wasn’t that the problem in the first place?

He’s good at it; wraps you up in the blanket you always keep draped on the cushions, and hands you a full plate. Wordlessly, because you suppose he’s said everything he needed to. Dutifully, he takes care of you, without a word; the strain of cutting you open on the coffee table clearly too much to bear.

You thank him, and he settles on the armchair opposite, mug of coffee in hand. The gloom of the TV bathes him in light, cuts his cheekbones and jaw just so. One of your mugs in his lap, and he's in a thick knitted sweater. His hair kisses the tops of his lashes, but he brushes it away. You swallow thickly, and when he turns, you look away.

“...You okay?” He asks, confused.

You nod, unable to speak. He gives you a small smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled up like crepe paper. You return it with one of your own. 

He sees you. Finally, you see him too.

_

_

_

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

@bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook @sonderspider @spear-bitch @cryingintheclubdhmu @mageneire @notdyl4n @slezhara @funkyfoxx0 @smol-beb @iceclaw101 @lixhizy @errorundyne-exe @707xn @beantokki@twentysomethingwereyote

[ilikeit-art]

Ellen Everett is a poet, author, illustrator, and graphic designer from Tennessee with a passion for storytelling through both language and art. In 2018, she published her first collection of poetry, "I Saw You As A Flower" at the age of nineteen. In 2022, she released her second soul-stirring collection of poetry, "If Hearts Had Training Wheels," a book she designed, illustrated, and formatted from the cover to the interior. She graduated from Middle Tennessee State University with a BFA in Graphic Design with a concentration of Illustration and from Roane State Community College with an AA in Mass Communications. Ellen has always been captivated by the process of taking an idea and turning it into something tangible and accessible. She finds something magical about creating something out of nothing and bringing an idea to life. She continues to express herself through language, art, and videography on her social media platform.

Instagram / TikTok page: elleneverettpoetry

I love her page, you might too

[mathosapabeads]

up coming events i will be vending at.

UW powwow, april 13-14, at the alaska airlines arena HEC edmundson pavilion

C3 Coalition 11th annual north puget sound conference on race, april 20 10am-5pm, at everett community college

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Heaven Help the Fool

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 5

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: swearing, angsty matthew, hints of matt's jealousy, cuddling? idk this one is relatively tame (especially compared to Ch 4)

a/n: This chapter is pure sugary fluff. I ended up cutting this chapter in half because it was approaching 10k. This is the 1st half :) I hope you enjoy!! Thank you to @madschiavelique for helping me rewrite this multiple times!

Side note: I will probably wait a month or so before updating this again. I'm trying to get 5-7 chapters written so that I can post biweekly for the rest of the year to keep y'all fed!

w/c: 4.2k

Despite the brief hiccup in your friendship–courtesy of one douchebag boyfriend–you, Matt, and Foggy had been getting along swimmingly recently; so well, in fact, that Foggy would only refer to you as “The Three Musketeers”, complete with embarrassingly clumsy fake sword swishing, of course. The thought of the two of you air-fencing as you giggled to each other never failed to make him smile. 

By some miracle, the conversation he’d initiated with you about your growing distance had actually gone well and sparked a positive change. You’d apologized profusely, asking a number of questions, about how Matt was feeling and why, to guarantee your understanding. And, thankfully, he’d been able to answer them without exposing his feelings for you. In the end, you’d promised to return to your original schedule of study sessions, as well as give Matt and Foggy notice if you would need to cancel. Nothing outrageous, just being more mindful about communication and the time you were spending with your friends. 

Unfortunately for Matt, and Foggy who was slowly stepping aboard the “Everett Sucks” train alongside his roommate, you’d also suggested that the two of them hang out with you and Everett in order to get to know him better. The idea was harmless, even adorable if you asked the love-sick part of Matt’s brain, but the outcome was hellish. 

About a week ago, Matt and Foggy had accompanied you and Everett to a haunted house–listening to the macho third year “protect” you from strobe lights and masked actors despite you not being all that scared. Though he had brought a date himself, Matt had barely even smiled at the poor girl, preoccupied with Everett’s fingers brushing over a patch of exposed skin on your waist at every opportunity. Clearly, he hadn’t been inconspicuous about his attention being elsewhere, given that the night had ended with him getting a face full of hot chocolate from his snubbed date. The sticky droplets soaking into his clothes were nothing compared to the irritation he felt when Everett slapped him on the back—shaking his head as he imparted his wisdom to the first year. “Sorry man. Girls will be girls.” 

Then, of course, there’d been last night. The three of you had attended a halloween party at Everett’s place, and the guy had refused to walk you home even though it was cold, dark, and dangerous considering how tipsy you'd been. If Matt and Foggy hadn't been there, who knows what harm could have befallen you? Even before that, Matt had been clenching his fists all night, hearing Everett blabber over you and swat your hands away in front of his peers, claiming he wasn’t in the mood to hold you. If Matt was in his place, he’d–

No. These were the exact thought patterns he needed to avoid to prevent another…mistake like the night at Fogwell’s. He'd been doing a decent job not falling down the same rabbit holes–that would all be for nothing if he started fantasizing again now. 

But how could he not? You were so thoughtful, and intelligent, and adorable, and goddamn magnetic. Every action you took reeled him further into the treacherous web he was trapped in–unwittingly intoxicating him with your kindness. You were unlike anyone he’d ever met, that fact had only been highlighted since he’d embarrassed himself at Clinton Church. 

Shuddering against a gust of wind, Matt continued his brisk pace down the sidewalk as his fingers grew numb around his cane. He was quickly regretting his decision to leave his jacket behind. Hopefully, the bookstore was willing to shell out the extra bucks for a decent amount of heat and he wouldn’t find you as a popsicle when he took shelter.

Huffing out an irritated breath, Matt rounded the corner towards your place of work. It had become almost a habit for him to accompany you during your shifts, keeping you company and working through assignments together. Honestly, it was the best part of his day. 

Matt frowned as he closed in on the bookstore. He was having a difficult time hearing your heartbeat, which was usually pattering away, steady as rain, a few feet from the entrance of the store. As he pushed open the glass door, he could finally make out a steady thump accompanied by your familiar scent in the far corner of the shop. 

The constant smell of ink and stale paper, now mingling with the slightly acrid smell of dust burning in the vents, stuck in his nostrils—as it always did when he arrived here. It was comforting, in a way, reminiscent of both you and the library at the orphanage, where he’d spent much of his freetime as a child.

Smiling to himself as he approached you, he folded up his cane and let his body relax in the warm bubble of generated heat. You were asleep, curled up around whatever project you’d been working on like a cat on a sunlit patch of carpet. Settling on the floor beside you, Matt propped himself up against a bookshelf before unzipping his backpack as silently as he could. It wasn’t the most organized set up to work with, laying his textbook on the floor and holding his computer in his lap, but after the late night you’d had, there was no doubt you needed the rest. 

Body twisting in sudden discomfort, you whimpered beside him, unwinding from your bent shape and towards his body. Readjusting so that your nose was pressed against his thigh, you sighed, brow unfurrowing. Even unconscious, you appreciated his presence. 

The denim of his jeans couldn’t have been comfortable for the delicate skin of your nose, but he was hesitant to move an inch if it meant waking you. Besides, the small pinpoint of heat against his thigh was rather pleasant. 

Listening to your slumbering breaths, Matt was reminded of his childhood meditation sessions–the sound acting as a barrier between him and the rest of the world, clearing his mind without any effort on his end. He matched his breathing to yours, heart rate slowing to mirror yours as he ran his fingers along the lines of braille in his textbook. 

As Matt worked his way through two separate reading assignments, you slept peacefully, nuzzling into his leg every so often with a soft puff of an exhale. It felt like Matt had only spent mere seconds in this unintentional paradise when you began to stir. 

With a stuttering breath, you stretched, the sound of your muscles tightening akin to plucking a guitar string rapidly. As you regained awareness, Matt could hear the spike in your pulse–you must have noticed him, then. 

“Morning, bug.” He murmured. On a whim, he ran a hand over your shoulder gently, not wanting you to feel unwelcome or embarrassed for lingering in his personal space. “Have a good nap?”

Beneath his palm, you relaxed, your lashes fluttering as you hummed appreciatively. “Hi. Sorry for using you as a pillow.”

“No apology necessary. You ok?” He squeezed your shoulder as you sat up, pulling at your clothes to unfurl the wrinkles from them. 

“Yah, just tired after last night.” You laughed, but the sound was a step too high in pitch to be genuine. 

“Ugh, I feel you. I think both Foggy and I spent more time in the bathroom than in our beds last night.” Matt chuckled, trying to quiet the devil inside him with a reminder that you’d come to him if something was actually wrong. 

Grimacing, you knocked your shoulder against his. “God, Murdock–” You giggled, pressing a palm to your stomach. “My hangover is much too present for that image. Warn a girl next time.”

Shooting you a bashful smile, he nodded dutifully. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok, trouble. No harm done. Well, not much.” With a heavy sigh, you rubbed at your eyes, leaning to grab something that had slid beneath the bookshelf Matt was seated against. “Damn, this manual must have been more boring than I originally thought. It knocked me right out.” 

“Learning astrophysics on the side?” Matt jested, smirking at you.

“Oh yah. Astronaut is my backup career.” You laughed, the sound beautiful, and real, this time around. “No, um, setting up a new printer, actually.” 

Confusion pooled in Matt’s stomach, for some reason you were embarrassed by the machine behind you, if the heat flooding your cheeks was any indication. 

“Oh, did the old one break?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Er,” You paused, looking between him and the plastic box beside you. “No, well not yet, but…just promise me you won't be mad. Well, you’re entitled to anger, I guess, because I may have overstepped?”

Thoroughly bewildered now, Matt swiveled his chin so that his attention could focus on your general area. “Overstepped how?” 

“I sort of badgered my boss into buying a braille printer?” The sentence was phrased as a question, but the thing was there, beside you. It's existence evidence that you had definitively obtained one. 

Matt was silent for a moment, processing the new information. It suddenly felt like he had swallowed a golf ball. He could barely make out the pounding of your heart over the blood rushing in his own ears. “Um...”

“Shit, Matt, I'm sorry. I should have asked you before I did it. I meant to, I just—” Your nervous ramble was punctuating with small wisps of heat emanating from your gesturing hands. 

“Sweetheart,“ He interrupted, snatching one of your dancing hands out of mid air and holding it delicately. ”Please breathe. I'm not angry with you.“ 

”Oh thank god.“ Your body slammed into his, nearly bowling him over, as you tackled him with a hug. Your nose was chilled as it bobbed up and down the skin of his neck. ”I don't know what I'd do if you were mad at me. I care about you a hell of a lot, trouble.“ Your lips tickled his throat, breath ghosting over his shoulder as you murmured. 

”I care about you too, sweetheart.“ His voice was strained, his thoughts consumed with surprise and adoration. He didn't deserve you. 

”Hey, don't say that!“ Shit, he must have said that out loud. ”Of course you deserve me, Matt. And you deserve Foggy, and anyone else who you enjoy being around. You're a good person, Matt. You deserve happiness.“ You spoke firmly, not leaving room for his internal doubt. 

Constricting your arms, it seemed like you were trying to meld your body with his. One of his hands pressed into the grimy carpet as he held the two of you up, the other rested around your shoulders, his thumb rubbing circles into the fabric of your shirt. 

”Shut up.“ He muttered, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he turned his focus to the rough threads of the stiff carpeting beneath his hand. 

”Never.“ You giggled meekly, squishing him to your body one final time before releasing your grip. ”Now I should probably get back to building this printer, if you ever want to be able to use it.“ 

”Did you want a hand?“ He offered, sniffling discreetly. 

”I'd love one! Will you read me these while I reorganize? I got to step 7 already.“ Handing him the packet of braille instructions out of the manual, Matt skimmed the bumps until he found the proper section. 

”You attached the paper tray?“ He asked, waiting for you to confirm before reading the next step aloud.

A few days after painstakingly building a new printer together, you found yourself sprinting for the door to Matt’s building, which was rapidly closing and just out of your reach; you stifled a victory squeal when you were able to step into the threshold of the dorm before the door locked on you. Now you wouldn’t have to ask Matt to let you in the building, and that was pretty fortunate given how on edge the poor kid seemed already this morning. 

You tended to rise early, given your rigid schedule of classes and work shifts, preferring to start your day just after the sun rose and have as much time to accomplish things as possible. Matt wasn't as much of an early bird as you were, but he tended to wake up before 9am on weekends, while his blond roommate would sleep well past noon if he had the option. Because of your similar schedules, you weren't surprised that Matt had called you; you were surprised, however, that he sounded so miserable before 9am on a Friday. 

The conversation hadn't been long, just Matt asking if you'd like to come over and a small warning that he'd ”woken up on the wrong side of the bed“, but you weren't phased. While the handsome law student tended to be on the more reserved and sarcastic side, he was rarely noticeably irritated—tending to play it off with quips to keep his cool around anyone he didn't know too well. There had been a handful of days where you had witnessed his anger slipping through the metaphorical mask that he wore, but he never aimed it at you. Every once and a while, his tone would get a bit snappish, but it never went further than that, and you trusted him to keep his wits intact when he was upset. 

So you came quickly with hot breakfast as a peace offering to provide the help he'd asked for, in his own non-descriptive way. Taking the cement steps two at a time, and deftly avoiding the perpetually damp spots on the landing (ew), you were able to make it from your place and to Matt's door in under 30 minutes. 

Raising a fist to knock on the thick door, you jumped in surprise—nearly spilling the coffees—when Matt yanked the door open before your knuckles had even skimmed the surface. 

”Christ, Matt!“ You squeaked, shaking off the residual adrenaline as he beckoned you inside and shut the door behind you. 

If he hadn't already informed you that he was feeling out of it, his lack of opaque lenses would've immediately alerted you of the fact. Matt was very averse to interacting with people without his glasses covering his eyes, even when the only people around were you and Foggy. You'd never brought it up before, not wanting to add to his clear discomfort about the topic, but you assumed he was self-conscious of the way he looked without them.

Regardless, seeing his hazel eyes darting ambiguously around you made you catch your breath. You'd only caught glimpses in the past, but uncovered? They were stunning. The brown of his irises was flecked with green and the reflection of sunlight made them look like pools of honey. 

Hearing your choked inhale, a peach-colored blush bloomed across Matt's cheeks. “Shit, hold on, let me find my glasses. I set them down last night and I—” Pacing around you, Matt began to frantically rummage around on his bed, where he'd dumped a pile of what looked to be most, if not all, of his belongings. “They're here somewhere, I know it.“ 

Setting the paper cups on Foggy's nightstand, you walked a wide arc around the anxious boy as if he were a startled animal, gently laying your hand on his wrist. ”Matt,“ 

Looking up dolefully, Matt's eyes were glassy as he rambled. ”I'm sorry. I misplaced them. I should've warned you—“ 

”Matty, stop for a minute please.“ You encouraged, waiting for the boy to pause and take a breath before you continued. ”You don't need to wear your glasses around me, trouble. I'm sorry if I seemed thrown off, I was admiring your eyes.“

”You were...admiring them?“ Matt's voice broke around the question and your heart squeezed. 

”Yah, Matty, you have beautiful eyes. I've never seen them up close before.“ Taking his hands, you ran a thumb over his knuckles as he processed your words. 

After a minute of silence, you tugged him towards his desk chair. “Why don't we sit for a minute and have breakfast before sorting through your stuff.” 

Letting you maneuver him into the threadbare seat, he tilted his head as you placed a paper bag and disposable cup on the desk next to him. “You brought me breakfast?”

Chuckling at his genuine confusion, you nodded. “I did. It would help me feel better if I 'woke up on the wrong side of the bed', so I figured it couldn't hurt. It's just a muffin and a latte from Blue Java, nothing special.“ 

Matt didn't say anything, his lips still pursed as he opened the bag and began unwrapping the pastry. After breaking off a few pieces to eat, his frown ebbed. ”Thank you.“ 

”Anytime! So, doing some reorganizing this weekend?“ You sipped your own coffee, trying not to laugh as he wolfed the rest of his muffin down. 

”Something like that,“ Matt grumbled, tossing his balled up trash into the plastic bin across the room with ease. ”Our room was just, I don't know...gross, I guess? It needed to be cleaned and when I realized I couldn't find my glasses, I just freaked. I woke Foggy up, and neither of us could find them, so I started putting everything on the bed.“ 

Matt's lips quirked into a tiny smile. ”I think I scared him because he said he had to study and just disappeared. He's probably asleep in the library by now.“ 

You chuckled, picturing the blond passed out in the rows of old books. ”Well, his loss. I'm a hoot to clean with.“ 

”Is that so?“ Matt remarked, grinning fully now.

“Just you wait, Murdock. I have been told I am a fun AND efficient cleaning partner. Let's get this party started.” Standing up and brushing your hands together, you turned towards the items haphazardly stacked on Matt's bed. “How can I help?” 

Retreating into his shell a bit, Matt scratched at his neck. “Um, are you sure you want to? I mean, Foggy isn't here to confirm, but I have a really specific method for organizing my belongings, and I would understand if you didn't want to be bossed around.”

“Matt, it's your stuff that we are straightening up. You're allowed to be bossy.” You assured, silently cursing everyone who had planted seeds of doubt in this wonderful man’s brain. 

“Ok, just tell me if you want to leave.” Matt ordered. You mock saluted in response.

“Yes, sir!” You giggled as he shuddered with a scoff.

“You asked for it, sweetheart.” 

The next several hours were spent sorting through the deceptively small pile on Matt's bed. Matt tasked you with sorting things into categories, which mostly meant separating clothes from school supplies, while he put things back in their designated areas. After finding his headphones tangled, one of his binders broken, and still having no clue where his glasses were, Matt was sliding back to the edge of his rope. 

His jaw tensed as he grit his teeth, running his fingers along the sleeves of the sweater he was trying to fold in an attempt to straighten them. Growling in frustration he tossed the sweater back onto the bed and ran a hand over his face. 

“C'mere, trouble.” You extended your arms to him and he gratefully collapsed against you. Rubbing small circles into his tight shoulders, you felt a burst of pride as he relaxed against you. “You getting fed up again?” 

Matt nodded, face still buried against your neck. You frowned understandingly, untangling the tousled hair along his nape. “Hmmm, I guess we could take a break, what do you think?” 

Matt whined, tugging your hips toward his bed. 

Laughing at his reaction, you scratched at his scalp. “Ok, Matty. Why don’t we stop for a bit, then? Sound good?” 

“Mmmhmm.” Matt murmured, legs turning to jelly as you massaged his pounding head. 

Using one hand to shove aside the remaining items on his bed, you crawled up to the headboard and positioned yourself against the wall, letting Matt cuddle up to your side. 

You immediately ran a hand back up to his nape, resuming the rhythmic touches that you knew would calm him down. Matt shuddered, rubbing his face into your shoulder as he stifled a yawn. Chuckling at his oddly adorable actions, you wondered if he’d slept at all last night. “You tired, bubs?” You asked softly, grinning knowingly at his affirmative groan. 

“Go to sleep, bubba. I don’t mind.” 

He must’ve been exhausted because his mouth stayed closed, though you had fully expected an argument. After a few minutes of deep breathing, his body began to slacken against your side. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, you adjusted the covers as best you could, given that they were covered in a couple dozen pounds of stuff, and tucked him in. And, with Matt dozing at your side, you continued sorting through the pile spilling across your lap. 

Matt didn’t dream much. Occasionally, he’d have a nightmare; his body experiencing phantom sensations like being hit or feeling someone’s pulse slowly fade, but that was the extent—until he’d met you. It was like you knew you had a direct line to his brain. Your soft touches lingered for hours after the contact ended, his frayed nerves still firing rapidly, replaying the feeling of your fingers in his hair, your lips on his forehead. 

He wasn’t meant to feel the kiss. Not that it meant anything more than platonic affection—he was fairly certain it didn’t—but that didn’t mean it didn’t electrocute every cell in his body, vaporizing the immense heap of irritation that had been building since he’d started his day off so poorly. 

You had that power over him. Haunting his every waking moment and chasing his subconscious while he slept. You were his constant. 

Wedged against you and his headboard, he felt safe, and fatigue had quickly overtaken him. He slept more peacefully than he had in weeks because of you, though the lack of Foggy’s sleep apnea definitely helped. Wading through a field of mental static, he rested, until your subtle movements beneath him popped his bubble of solace. 

“Matt?” You murmured, stroking a finger along his cheek. 

“Hngh?” He uttered, blearily. Was that a word? He was pretty sure that was a word. 

It must not have been a word because you shook with a giggle. Rubbing his cheek with your thumb, he could hear you nibble on your lip. “I gotta leave, trouble. I’m sorry, I’m meeting Evs soon.” 

The mention of your obnoxious paramour drew him fully out of slumber. He dug the heel of his hand into his eyes, rubbing the sleep from them. “Shit, I’m up.” 

“I’m really sorry to wake you up. Did you sleep ok?” Your voice wobbled with guilt and he tried to give a convincing smile. 

“Yah I did. Thank you for staying.” 

“Of course! It’s almost 3:00 pm. I texted Foggy and asked him to bring you food, he’ll be here with it soon.” As you spoke, you slid off of his thin mattress, adjusting your clothes and hair. 

“Crap. I didn't mean to hold you hostage.” Matt grumbled. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be! I enjoyed being your pillow.” You chuckled, but the statement held nothing but honesty, and that knowledge made his heart flutter. “I, um, I finished sorting your things. I didn’t put away anything unless I was certain of where it went, but…” You trailed off excitedly, snatching his hand from the mattress and placing a lightweight item in his semi-open palm. 

“I found your glasses! They were behind your mattress, I almost missed them.” 

Tracing the metal frames slowly, Matt choked on a breath. “Thank you, sweetheart.” 

“Oh you don’t need to thank me, Matt. We take care of each other, remember?” Your smile was evident in your voice. 

He stayed silent, far too concerned with preventing a voice crack to speak. 

Realizing that you may have overwhelmed him, you hovered in front of the bed. “Sorry to throw all of that at you right after you woke up. Did you want me to show you where I put everything?” 

“No,” He spoke raggedly. Clearing his throat, he started again. “No, I can figure it out. Thanks, sweetheart. For everything. Have fun on your date.” 

Your heart stuttered as he mentioned your date. “Thank you, Matty. I will. Call me if you can’t find something?” 

“I will, bubs.” With that final promise, he slid on his lenses and jumped out of bed to walk you out. Waving his final goodbye, he closed the door, falling against it as he gathered his thoughts. 

Striding back to his bed, he let his fingers waltz over the meticulous stacks of his belongings. You’d straightened up his notebooks, folded his clothes, even arranged his textbooks in alphabetical order. All just because he’d been frustrated and asked for your help?

Running his fingers over the sweater at the top of the column of clothes, his throat constricted as wet trails formed down his cheeks. Pulling the garment to his face, he inhaled faint traces of your soap and natural fragrance, the scent embedded in the fabric. As the warmth from your body faded from his sheets, Matt crumpled to the floor, still clutching the woven sweater in his fist. 

Thanks for reading!!!

Taglist: @eugene-emt-roe@abbyhaslongshorts@mrs-bellingham@abucketofweird@yeonalie@jadeunstablexx@spider-murdock@0ctober-writes@danzer8705

[dreamerfms]

[ … ] ❀ you’re not from around here , are you? i figured because you totally just missed { YASMIN DUBOIS } walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who { SHE/HER } is ? they kind of look like { SAVANNAH LEE SMITH } and i could be wrong but i think that they might be { 26 } years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last { THREE YEARS }. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of { MARISSA COOPER } from { THE OC }. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working at { HEIGHTS COMMUNITY CENTER } as a { COMMUNITY OUTREACH LEADER }. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the { EVOLVED IT GIRL } of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty { COMPLEX } at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty { EMPATHETIC } to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that { TWO ROOM } apartment beside me over in { SPRING STREET }.

full name : yasmin dubois. birthplace : scarsdale, new york. date of birth : march 30th. parentage : vanessa dubois ( nee brooks, adoptive ) & malcom dubois ( adoptive ) imani brooks ( biological mother ) sibling(s) : everett dubois. technically two others. occupation : community outreach leader ( runs a foodbank, organizes charity drives, provides financial aid for people in need, etc. ) relationship status : single. gender identity : cis female ( she/her ) sexual orientation : bisexual. faceclaim : savannah lee smith.

BACKGROUND

triggers include : infertility, adoption, teen pregnancy, borderline drug & alcohol abuse / addiction.

yasmin was born in scarsdale, new york, to a teenage mother with her whole life ahead of her. unable to provide the life she wanted for her daughter ( and still craving life for herself ) , the young mother agreed to let yasmin be adopted by her older sister, who had struggled with infertility for several years despite desperately wanting to start a family. yasmin’s adoptive parents were rising stars in the tech world, innovators and leaders who gave her a privileged childhood. for the first eight years of her life, yasmin was the centre of their universe. though her parents were busy, they spent every spare moment with her. traveling the world, encouraging her multiple interests, enrolling her in every club she showed even the slightest curiosity in. she was happy, loved. felt safe and secure. given room to flourish. then a miracle happened, and her adoptive mother fell pregnant after years of endless negatives and being told the chances were slim. even before the birth of her brother, yasmin could feel the shift. moved into the smaller room because her brother would need more space, achievements met with a shrug as if nothing to be excited about. affection dwindling by the day. the moment her brother was born, yasmin became a ghost in her own home. practically invisible. she did everything she could to be seen. excelled in school, played the role of the perfect daughter. but nothing was ever enough. she'd never be everett. she'd never really be theirs. at the age of eighteen, while packing for college, yasmin discovered adoption papers hidden in her mother's office. the truth was finally revealed. her parents were not her parents; her aunt had given birth to her and then given her up. that realization, combined with the growing negativity in their home, sent yasmin into a downward spiral. her lifestyle became reckless. she embraced the chaos with nightly parties, substance abuse, and a reputation as the troubled it girl. college was supposed to be the best time of her life, and instead she was fostering bad habits and barley making it through. it wasn’t until she hit rock bottom that she began to revaluate her life. knew she wanted to be better, do something that would make a change. at twenty-three, searching for purpose, yasmin moved to palmview, florida, a place filled with childhood memories from family vacations spent at their vacation home by the beach. using part of her trust fund, she founded a community outreach program at the local community centre. she set up a food bank, organized regular charity drives and provided financial aid to people facing medical hardships. despite having found a sense or purpose and a way to give back, yasmin still struggles with trust and her sense of belonging. every now and then, the wild child resurfaces, never really gone. one bad day away from slipping up. but she's trying. oh god, she's really trying. upon first meeting, yasmin can appear rather cold and guarded. over the course of her life, there's been many betrayals, starting with her family but also in the form of fake friends. she's fiercely independent, and wants to use her privilege to make a real change. some people still question her, but it only fuels her further to prove people wrong.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

the reluctant confidant - someone she's reluctantly let in, who knows about some of her struggles. maybe they caught her on a bad day, or maybe she revelled herself during a drunken night out. either way, they seem persistent in being there. - taken by archie. the reoccurring summer fling - she summered in palmview every year, this is someone she met in her late teens, and in some ways could be considered her first real romance. a whirlwind, but being so young and unsure of who they really were, it was also toxic. yet, each summer, they'd come back together. breaking their hearts each and every summers end. - taken by emma. the frenemy with underlaying attraction ( f ) - they like to think they're so different, but they have a lot more in common than they realize. a spark from the moment they met, and while most assume it to be competitiveness, there might be more to it than that. judging a book - they've never quite taken to her, and maybe it's because they have always seemed worlds apart. they assume her to be some kind of way because of her background and reputation that won't let her be. maybe they figure it out along the way, or maybe some people just aren't meant to mix. fuels the wild side - during her most reckless years, this friend was both an enabler and a mirror to wild side. they thrived on the chaos together. many late-night parties and blurred boundaries. their bond was intense and intoxicating, and in a lot of ways, bad for them both. their friendship is strained now, but it's a reminder of a past she ( or both ) can't fully let go of. a moth to a flame - an instant connection, bred from a single glance. sometimes you meet someone and something just feels right. except the timing is all wrong. every glance lasts a second too long, every touch feels like a secret. they avoid each other because it’s safer that way. because getting close feels like a risk neither can afford. and yet, something always pulls them together. anything and everything. friends from college, friends ( or enemies ) she made during summers, a past fwb when she first came to live here full time, soon fizzling out because she was in such fragile time of her life. people who help with the community work would be great also !! someone she met at an addict on meeting, only to never return, convincing herself there was no problem.

ESTABLISHED

tba.

[lboogie1906]

Terry Carter (John Everett DeCoste; December 16, 1928 - April 23, 2024) was an actor and filmmaker, known for his roles as Sgt. Joe Broadhurst on McCloud and as Colonel Tigh on the original Battlestar Galactica.

He was born in Brooklyn. His mother, Mercedes, was a native of the Dominican Republic, and his father, William DeCoste, was of Argentinian and African American descent and operated a radio repair business. He attended Hunter College, Boston University, and UCLA before earning a BS from Northeastern University. He left St. John’s University School of Law after two years to become an actor.

He gained theatre experience in several productions on the Broadway and off-Broadway stage. His Broadway credits include playing the male lead in the play Mrs. Patterson and performing the title role in the musical extravaganza Kwamina.

He worked as a weekend newscaster for WBZ-TV in Boston, where he became an anchor-reporter. He served as New England television’s first African American opening-night movie and theater critic.

He acted in numerous TV series, specials, and theatrical films. He was a regular cast member of The Phil Silvers Show. He played boxer Rosie Palmer in Breaking Point. He was the only African American actor to have a role in Combat! He played the part of Police Officer Tuttle in Benji. He played opposite Pam Grier in Foxy Brown. He played the role of CIA chief “Texas Slim” in Hamilton. More recently, he had a recurring role in Hotel Caesar, as Solomon Tefari.

In 1975, he started a small Los Angeles corporation, Meta/4 Productions, Inc. for which he produced and directed industrial and educational presentations on film and videotape for the federal government. He is president of the Council for Positive Images, Inc., a non-profit organization he formed in 1979, dedicated to enhancing intercultural and interethnic understanding through audiovisual communication. Under the council’s auspices, he has produced and directed award-winning dramatic and documentary programs for presentation on PBS and distribution worldwide. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[indigosunsetao3]

A Reason To Try

Chapter 1 - Onset

Masterlist of Chapters

Warnings: 18+ - No minors Please read the tags on AO3 for any of your triggers

Alex Keller X Original FMC 8.7k words - AO3 Link

With a huff, Madeline leaned back in her office chair and stared at her computer screen. She was waiting for the latest batch of files to finish dropping so she could start working down her current client’s bills. The system she was using was old and this many documents could take a few minutes before they were ready. But there was no walking away from the computer, her supervisor was a hard-ass that spent his days watching all his employees’ statuses to make sure they didn’t go idle. He also enjoyed randomly calling with mundane questions just to be sure people weren���t rigging the system to show they were there when they weren’t. If the job market hadn’t been so bleak, especially with her lack of experience, Madeline would have left it by now. The gig was just a temporary contract job, an attempt to start saving up some cash on the side so she could spend money without feeling guilty for it.

Boston was where Madeline found herself calling home these days. She had grown up in the Northeast but the minute she had turned eighteen she fled the house determined to make her own way. She traveled all around the United States for much of her young adult life. Worked odd jobs, couch surfing, and at one point had even lived in a commune for a bit when her money ran out. It exasperated her parents who implored her to be more like her older sister, Josephine.

Josephine, Madeline’s older sister by twelve years, was the golden child. She had been the one that stayed close to home, attended college at an elite school, and graduated with honors. She quickly dominated her field after her residency and married a respectable man. Within a year of marriage, she had become pregnant and had a son, Everett. Somehow, Josephine managed to do all this while maintaining a career and helping her parents navigate through their golden years while dealing with terminal illnesses.

Then there was Madeline, the accidental but no less wanted, rebellious child. She had been born when her mother was in her early forties and her father almost fifty. They were a bit too old to be raising a rambunctious toddler and headstrong teenager, but they did their best. While Madeline was not horrible in school, it wasn’t her favorite thing and she was often in trouble for goofing off or skipping it all together. Marriage was something that terrified her, a lifelong commitment in her early twenties like her parents tried to push on her made her run even further away. And children? She could barely keep herself functioning, there was no way she could be a mother. Not yet.

Josephine had stepped in often to keep Madeline in line and help pick her back up when she fell flat on her face. Despite the age and personality differences, the sisters were close. They stayed in constant contact through Madeline’s journey around the country, each keeping one another up to date on current things happening in their lives. When both of their parents passed a few years apart from one another they leaned heavily on each other to get through it. The loss had been a hard hit, less than two years between each passing, and Madeline debated on moving closer to Josephine realizing that she wanted to be around her sister and her nephew more. She didn’t really care for her brother-in-law much. He was a bit too opinionated and she had no problem calling him out on his bullshit when she thought he was being too full of himself. But if putting up with him to be with the rest of what was left of her family she would do it.

So, when Madeline got the call that Josephine’s marriage fell apart, her husband having multiple mistresses, Madeline decided that was the universe’s sign it was time. Josephine had been the one who cared for their parents before they both passed and always helped Madeline. This time she needed someone to look out for her. Without second thought Madeline packed up her meager belongings and flew in from California almost nine months ago and had set up residency in the guest bedroom of Josephine’s rather spacious fifteenth floor apartment. Josephine didn’t ask much of her younger sister, just for her companionship and to help with her son instead of having to hire babysitters.

“This is hot chocolate weather,” Madeline muttered to herself as she peered out the window and saw the beginning of a few fat snowflakes falling. The news had called for another snowstorm that day, nothing like the nor’easter they had over the weekend, but it could be a few inches. She glanced down at her computer screen to see that the files were only thirty percent of the way loaded before clicking to see her supervisor’s status. He was on lunch. Pushing out of the chair she wandered to the kitchen and set about making herself said cup of hot chocolate.

Just as she was about to make her way back to her bedroom to take a seat her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. Digging it out of the fuzzy pants she was wearing, the perks of working from home, she spotted it was Josephine calling. Her sister was out of town, out of the country actually, on assignment with EIS. Her sister was an Epidemic Intelligence Service officer, she was the one they sent out when outbreaks happened to see the cause of a sickness and how to contain it. During the West Nile outbreak, SARs in Asia, and Ebola scare in Africa her sister had been on the ground figuring out the spread. This time she was in the jungles of South America following the outbreak of some new disease.

“If you’re calling to complain about how hot it is I’m going to hang up,” Madeline said into the phone as she took a hard seat back in her chair and checked the files. “We’re getting even more snow today, wind is rattling the windows like crazy,” she sighed and shook her mouse to get the screensaver to turn off. And of course, there was a message from her supervisor asking where she was.

“I need you to go get Everett,” Josephine said, completely ignoring everything Madeline had just said to her. She sounded a bit agitated and perhaps urgent.

“What? Is he sick? The school didn’t call me,” Madeline answered, pulling her phone away from her ear to make sure she hadn’t missed the call. Or text. Or Email. Schools were so different now than when she had been in them. They had twenty different ways to get ahold of you, including an app and Madeline wouldn’t be surprised if there were live camera feeds soon so parents could stare at their children all day. She never would survive school these days, she skipped way too often as a teen.

“No, they didn’t call, I just,” Josephine sighed and Madeline heard people talking to her in the background. “I can’t tell you much alright. Just, please go get Everett. Give them an excuse about a family emergency if they ask. Stop at the store and get some food to last a few days. Don’t interrupt,” she said as she heard Madeline open her mouth to argue. “It’s hopefully nothing, me just being paranoid but I don’t want to risk it.”

“Josie,” Madeline said, ignoring the call coming over the computer from her boss. “You’re scaring me. What is going on?”

“This is just, it’s out of hand down here,” Josephine answered. “And I don’t think their government is being truthful about the spread,” she continued. “I think it’s already much further along than what we’ve been told is all. It’s highly contagious and we all remember how SARs was,” she stated with a sarcastic laugh.

“SARs? Please tell me it’s not something like that again,” Madeline said instantly feeling her heartrate skyrocket. SARs had been a horrendous time for the whole family, Josephine had been gone for months on end and had been her shitty husband's excuse for finding the company of other women. “Should I assume you will not be coming home this Thursday?” Madeline asked as her supervisor called her yet again on the computer and she declined it.

“No, not SARs,” Josephine said, though it seemed a bit cryptic, maybe even ominous. “And safe assumption,” Josephine answered before someone yelled for her. “Pick up some shitty junk food and tell Everett it’s from me,” she laughed, “and get yourself some wine. You’re going to need it locked up in the house with him for a few days.”

“I’ll need a case,” Madeline joked, though the unease in her stomach as her sister hung up made it feel flat.

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“Goddamn it, Keller,” one of the men said as he threw down his cards on the table in defeat. They had been playing poker outside in the setting sun. The desert heat was oppressive but being in the tents with no circulating air was ten times worse so they had set up the table in the shadow of one of the trucks.

“I warned you not to play with him,” came Farah’s voice and Alex turned around and grinned at her as she peered over the table. The spoils of the game were a mix of some coins, cigarettes, and a pack of gum. “He reads people too well,” she patted Alex’s shoulder as he scooped his winnings toward him before tossing a cigarette to the guy next to him.

“My poker face helps as well,” Alex answered as he flipped open the pack of gum and popped a piece into his mouth. He had been dominating the game with shit hands for the most part, but when it mattered for the biggest pot, he had actually made sure he had the winning one. “You need to just get better about your tells,” he mused as one of the guys rolled his eyes, shuffling the cards up.

“I see right through that poker face,” Farah answered she nudged his shoulder with her hip as she snatched up a smoke as well.

“That’s why I don’t play with you, you’d fleece me for everything I’ve got,” Alex responded before shaking his head at the offer to play another round. “I know when to walk away,” he taunted as he flipped a coin with his thumb before pocketing it. “Need to give you boys a chance anyway,” he glanced up at Farah who merely nodded her head back to indicate she wanted him to walk with her.

Pushing up from his seat Alex followed along behind Farah, always keeping himself a half-step behind and to the side when they were around others. She was the commander of the ULF, and he was her second, so Alex made sure to display that respect.

“You got a message from Laswell asking you to call her,” Farah explained as she led the way into a small canvas building, holding the flap up for Alex to grab before disappearing inside. When she saw the face Alex pulled, she smiled a bit, “a phone call won’t hurt.”

“I just don’t know what she could possibly want from me,” Alex said as he reached for the satellite phone that was resting on the table. The number was already programmed in the phone and he hit the button to dial, watching Farah.

“We need you back here Alex,” was Laswell’s form of hello, “shit is about to happen and we’re going to need all hands on deck back here.”

“What?” Alex asked, instantly curious despite the fact he had told himself he wouldn’t feed into whatever she wanted from him. “I can’t come home, you made sure of that,” he added with a hint of agitation as Farah raised her eyebrows.

“That’s done with,” Laswell said dismissively, “I cleared that shit up weeks ago once I was done holding my grudge.”

“Weeks? Shit, Laswell, you could have fucking said something sooner,” Alex snapped as he grabbed the back of the chair he was standing next to.

“You wouldn’t have come home anyway. Farah seems to be your home now,” she tacked on with a small sigh. “I’m not going to argue about it right now. We’re all about to be in some deep shit, Farah included, and I’ve got a mission for all of you. I’ve already called Price.”

“Price,” Alex asked aloud, flicking his eyes to Farah so she knew what they were discussing. John and Farah had been close for years and he knew if Price was in on it, she would follow suit. “Fine, let’s hear it,” he tacked on before taking the phone from his ear and sliding it onto the table hitting the speaker button.

“There’s a sickness spreading,” Laswell said, her voice tinny through the phone. “Started in South America, not sure the origin. The Venezuelan government covered it up as long as possible and by the time we were able to get our people down there, it spread.”

Farah pulled out a seat across from Alex and grabbed a notebook, while he continued to stand, leaning over the back of the chair listening.

“Spread where?” Alex inquired as Farah jotted down a few notes.

“Reports of it in Colombia and Panama already,” Laswell answered. “And found on shipping vessels docked in Cuba and Nigeria.”

“But what does this have to do with us? Hardly sounds like a military operation,” Alex said, drumming his fingers.

“The illness isn’t the flu,” Laswell replied. “It’s making people violent,” she stated and they heard her flipping through papers. “Infected people are attacking others, biting, ripping them apart,” she continued. “It seems to spread through bites. It’s in the blood, saliva. Killing them is next to impossible without a headshot, bullets don’t slow them down otherwise.”

“What, like a zombie?” Alex asked with a small laugh but when Laswell didn’t respond with a laugh, an ominous feeling settled over him. “You’re joking,” he added.

“Not joking Keller,” Laswell replied. “This is deadly and fast spreading. We need you to extract the scientists working on it down in Venezuela. They’re our best shot at a cure, they think they found patient zero,” she explained. “The 141 has already signed on and I want you with them. The research team we need extracted is being led by an American woman. It’s a joint effort with British and Canadian scientists. We need to get to them before the Konni do.”

“The Konni? What do they have to do with this?” Farah piped up, instantly narrowing her eyes.

“They’re also aware of the situation and they want the chance at a cure first. Whoever has the cure has the power in this situation and no matter what we do, it’s going to get out of control. Fast.” Laswell answered.

Alex glanced at Farah, a silent question and also requesting permission. She stared back at him for a second, her eyes darting between his before giving a curt nod.

“When?” He asked finally.

“I can have transport to you tomorrow morning at o-five hundred,” Laswell replied. “You’ll rendezvous with the 141 in England then you’re meeting up with Shadow company back here,” she continued. “All of you need to put your shit aside,” she tacked on knowing there was bad blood between all of them and Graves. “We don’t have time to fight amongst ourselves. This illness was first reported to us three days ago and it’s already in five countries that we are aware of…and I’m afraid there’s a lot more we aren’t aware of.”

“What do you want from me?” Farah asked.

“Keep your people safe,” Laswell answered. “And be prepared. If we can’t keep this contained it won’t be long before it’s over there.”

Farah couldn’t be part of the unit; Laswell may have been able to smooth things over with Alex but it was a bit harder for her to clear a non-American citizen for defying orders. The American government still classified ULF as a ‘terrorist force’, though they didn’t do anything to them, just refused to work with or aid them.

“We’ll get it done,” Alex answered after a second as he looked at Farah. He wasn’t leaving her behind forever but he wasn’t going to let this spread either. If he could help reign it in before it got to Urzikstan she wouldn’t have to deal with it at all.

“I’ll have more information on your mission when you get back on American soil,” Laswell said before hanging up.

Alex stared at the phone for a second, processing what Laswell had just told him before glancing at Farah across the way from him. She was staring at him, the pen in her hand tapping idly on the notes she had scribbled; it wasn’t much information.

“I don’t like leaving you like this,” Alex said after a second as he looked around the empty canvas room.

The tent they were in was Farah’s, the command center and living room rolled into one, her bedroom behind another flap in the far corner. They had set this small area up as a base about two weeks ago, they needed one out on the east side to keep a better eye on a few Russian sympathizer neighbors. It had been a nice break from the hustle of the city. They had only brought a small group of soldiers with them and the silence was peaceful, as well as the semblance of a bit of privacy.

It was known that Alex was Farah’s right hand and had been since her brother betrayed her. It was also whispered that he was more to her than that, though Alex truly wasn’t sure. Truth be told there wasn’t a title for what they were to one another, it was never actually discussed between them. They both had jobs to do, Farah’s country and duty came first. She had made that very clear and Alex understood implicitly. If he came in the way of that or clouded her judgment, she would end whatever it was between them. So, Alex was careful with the extent of his affections even if it burned him from the inside sometimes.

“I’ll be fine Alex,” Farah answered as she pushed up from her chair and shut the notebook. “I can survive without you for a few days,” she tacked on with a small smile, knowing this was going to be more than a few days, more likely weeks.

“I know you can,” Alex said as he walked around the table and stood in front of her, arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at her. He itched to grab her and pull her to him but he didn’t. “Doesn’t mean I want you to,” he replied, conceding to reaching out and brushing a stray strand of hair off the side of her face. “If this is spreading like Laswell said it is,” he paused, “we may be too late already. I’d be better served here, with you. Keep you and the others safe.”

“You need to go help them find those scientists and that potential cure,” Farah replied. “Laswell didn’t ask for your help without reason. She must need something from you that only you can provide.”

Alex took a deep breath through his nose, adjusting his stance a bit as Farah seemingly stared down at him despite him having multiple inches on her. Her gaze was hard and he knew a command was coming from her so closed his eyes in defeat and nodded. He knew Laswell had asked because of his background; CIA. He could move through different countries easily. He also had contacts all over the place and could provide intelligence from other agencies he had worked with in the past. Laswell may know powerful people but Alex knew the seedy underbelly ones that she couldn’t be associated with; the ones that actually ran things. And if they were going to the America’s he had more pull than John Price did there.

“One more night of peace here,” Farah said as she tilted her head and reached out to rub his upper arm with her hand, the only soft gesture she ever gave him freely. “Don’t brood,” she teased, “make it worthwhile.” She stepped around him to head back outside where someone had started up a fire. She didn’t glance back and he heard her call out to a friend and start commenting about what they were making for dinner.

Alex watched her go, watched her disappear out of the tent and he sighed a bit at the disappointment after getting his hopes at her last comment.  He knew his mind and emotions wanted more from her, ached for something else besides scant touches and sidelong glances. But Farah wouldn’t let that happen.

Farah had only let her guard down and dragged Alex to her bed a handful of times and after each time she fled from him and avoided him for days, weeks. Alex would pretend nothing had happened, let her get comfortable again, and they’d go back to this slightly awkward dance until she sought him out again. He’d always willingly given himself over to her, hoping this time it would be different but it never was. He had to deal with the painful aftermath, pack away his feelings, and tell himself not to let it happen again. He failed at that resolve every time.

Alex busied himself in his own tent for a bit, despite the sweltering heat. It was right next to Farah’s private quarters, close enough that if a threat happened upon them, he could get to her in seconds. He packed up all his things, tossing the meager items he had brought with him on this trip before someone popped their head in to ask if he was coming to eat. He joined them with a smile, careful to sit across the fire from Farah as they all ate and talked. He caught Farah looking at him, the calculated gaze he knew too well, but Alex adverted his eyes. He had already let his hopes get too high today; he wasn’t going to do it again. Maybe this time away would help him clear his head a bit, her too.

As the group started to disperse Alex helped with the clean up before heading to his own tent. He kept his gaze fixed purposely forward to avoid Farah whose eyes he could feel burning into his back. The tent was still warm despite the cool air that had settled over the desert but it didn’t deter him; he was used to the heat by now. Alex’s rest was fitful, most of it spent staring at the dying glow of the fire through the dark brown tent canvas. He gave up trying to sleep at four and disassembled his tent quietly, folding everything up and tucking it to the side so the group didn’t need to bother with it when they left.

Farah met him where he had sat next to the dead firepit fifteen minutes before his transport was due to be there. He had been flipping through his pack to make sure he had all his documentation before glancing up as she handed him a coffee. He smiled and thanked her before they sat in silence, shoulders pressed against one another. It wasn't long before the whir of a helicopter could be heard approaching.

“I guess that’s me,” Alex stated with a small grin as the helicopter landed fifty yards away, kicking the sand up into a giant dust cloud. He set his cup down on the log next to him before saying, “I’ll be back soon. Stay safe.” Farah reached up a hand to squeeze his upper arm, a forced smile gracing her features.

“I’ll see you in a few days,” she agreed with a small nod before dropping her hand and tilting her head toward the helicopter indicating he needed to go. She opened her mouth as if to say something else but didn’t, and Alex didn’t try to get it out of her. Some space was definitely warranted between them.

Pulling up his shemagh, Alex gave Farah one last look before jogging toward the waiting helicopter. By the time he was situated inside and they lifted off again she was already gone. Back inside the tent to get back to work.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Just because you get to stay home does not mean you get to miss out on doing work,” Madeline said to Everett as he flopped over dramatically on the couch. She had picked him up early from school two days ago and he had been trying to get out of the homework packet his teacher had sent home with him since. Madeline had laid down a false lie about a family emergency and that he would be out the rest of the week. She would wait to hear back from her sister before she kept him out any longer, hoping that Josephine was just being extra cautious and would give the all clear in her next phone call.

“But it’s a snow day!” Everett argued as he pointed outside at the fresh layer of snow that hadn’t all been cleared away yet. “I want to go sledding,” he whined as he pressed his nose to the glass to watch other kids outside in the park across the way throwing snowballs and sliding down the very small hill.

“Do your work and we can talk about going out to play,” Madeline bargained. She knew Josephine would have her head if she let Everett outside after explicitly pulling him from school. But it was cruel to make a six-year-old stay inside all day when there was perfectly good snow to play in. “Ah ah, I said talk,” she reiterated as Everett’s eyes lit up and he dove for the file of papers to get started.

Madeline had kept a close eye on the news about this sickness her sister had mentioned. Josephine hadn’t given her much details so any mention of illness caught her ears and she watched the news carefully. Nothing truly stuck out as devastating or worrisome, just typical flu, so the fear that had been gnawing at her abated as each hour passed. No news was good news after all.

Madeline sat in the living room with Everett as he worked, mostly jiggling her mouse so her status didn’t go idle. She had finished her actual work hours before Everett even woke up, knowing she would have her hands full with a kid to actually get work done. Her boss didn’t need to know that though. After three hours of watching Everett, or E as she liked to call him because his full name was too stuffy for a child, Madeline was over it. The snow was still lightly falling and even from this high up she and Everett could hear the children outside laughing and carrying about.

“Promise to not tell mom?” Madeline asked as she fought with the zipper of Everett’s puffed-up jacket. He was bouncing on his feet with excitement, glancing toward the front door where his sled rested.

“I won’t Aunt Mads,” Everete said exasperated as Madeline had already told him twice not to mention anything to Josephine. His mom had pulled him from school because she didn’t want him around anyone, and taking him to the park was a direct violation of that action. “It’s going to get dark soon,” he whined as Madeline tugged on her own hat.

“You’ll be a frozen popsicle and asking to come inside long before it gets dark,” Madeline answered with a laugh before yanking the door open and following Everett out the door as he bolted for the elevator. She had tucked a few face masks in her pocket, and effort to show some semblance of caution. If they were around too many people she’d just slip one on each of them under their scarves. “Hold on,” she called as Everett waved her forward having left her to lug the sled.

The park was mostly empty, the kids that had been out all day finally calling it quits either because they were soaked to the skin or their parents came to get them. Madeline cleared off a bench and perched on the edge to watch Everett as he trucked up and down the small hill laughing the whole way. He asked her to ride down with him a few times which she refused, but willingly watched him every time he shrieked for her to watch this slightly different sitting position as he went down the hill. She had pulled out her phone and was scrolling through her news feed again, carefully looking for anything new when she noticed Everett had fallen a bit quiet.

Snapping her eyes up she saw him talking to a little girl, maybe a year or two younger, and they were moving to ride down the hill together on Everett’s sled as her father looked on. The man looked over at Madeline and gave her a small smile, which she returned feeling slightly guilty at betraying Josephine’s trust. Everett at least had his scarf around his mouth and the little girl was bundled up as well. One ride wouldn’t hurt.

Pocketing the phone, she watched them go down the hill before noticing someone down at the bottom that hadn’t been there before. It was an older man, he was walking a bit awkwardly, coughing and he stumbled falling down to one knee as the sled came to a stop. Everett, ever the one to be helpful, hopped up and went to offer to help when Madeline shrieked for him.

“E! We have to get going,” she called quickly and she saw the confused look her nephew gave her as he glanced between her and the man. The guy was coughing still and his body seemed to be almost twitching as he didn’t even attempt to stand up. Madeline felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold running down her spine. The little girl’s father had also picked up on the oddity and called his daughter over to him as well. Madeline and the father exchanged glances, and a small nod before he turned tailed to leave the park.

“What if he needed help?” Everett asked as he dragged his sled over to Madeline, glancing over his shoulder at the man who hadn’t gotten up yet. “We shouldn’t leave him,” he said apprehensively as Madeline took the sled from his hands.

“I’ll call someone to come help him,” Madeline offered as she stared concerned at the man over Everett’s head. He had fallen back on his butt and he was visibly choking as he coughed, and there was bright red blood on the snow around him. Not wanting Everett to see she quickly placed a hand on the back of his head to steer him out of the park with a forced smile.

“How about spaghetti for dinner?” She asked knowing it was his favorite. She glanced over her shoulder again as she moved to get her phone out of her jacket. She wasn’t heartless, she had planned on calling someone but it seemed another good samaritan had seen and walked over to help the guy. Good. If she didn’t have Everett with her she would have gone over herself, even if she had no idea how she could help.

As they crossed the street to the apartment building her phone buzzed in her pocket. Digging out her phone she saw it was Josephine and she cursed under her breath. Everett looked at her with a mix of scandalization and amusement, knowing his aunt now owed him another dollar for the swear jar his mom and she contributed to. Hustling into the building Madeline put a finger to her lips with a grin as she answered the call, pausing at the mailboxes to grab the mail from the past few days.

“Madeline,” Josephine said as soon as the call connected. She sounded concerned, her voice an octave higher than normal. The background noise was loud and chaotic and Madeline had to put a finger in her other ear to hear better.

“What’s up, Josie?” Madeline asked as she dug out junk mailers from the small box and handed them to Everett who was flipping through it. She really needed to check the mail more often. She dug out more items that were stuck and stuffed them into Everett’s hands.

“Where are you?” Josephine asked.

“The mailroom,” Madeline answered truthfully as she shut the small mail door and locked it up.

“Go back to the apartment,” Josephine answered tersely. “And pack.”

“What?” Madeline asked, her hand pausing on the mailroom door as she shifted the sled under her arm more. “What are you talking about?”

“You need to get out of the city,” Josephine answered. “I’m trying to see if I can get you to the CDC,” she paused before something smashed in the background. ���Or fuck, out of the country. Somewhere, just not in the city.”

Everett had heard the cuss through the phone as they stood at the mailroom door and grinned holding up two fingers.

“Josie,” Madeline said quietly as she pushed open the mailroom door as someone walked over to get in. She instantly stepped away from them and crowded Everett behind her out of caution, subtly pulling her scarf back up over her own mouth. “You’re freaking me out a bit. Can you give me a little more details?”

“It’s spreading Mads,” Josephine said. “I haven’t gotten all the details yet, things are so murky, but the sickness is already out of hand.”

“Okay, so we just stay in the apartment, right? Avoid people, wait it out,” Madeline said as she called the elevator. Her sister had shared protocols and standard procedures with the family years ago. After all the things she had seen, she wanted to make sure the family was prepared. She had always lived by the motto when, not if when it came to sicknesses spreading. “Take our vitamins, sleep all day, and eat soup,” she joked a bit looking at Everett who pulled a face at vitamins.

“There’s no waiting this out,” Josephine answered. “It’s making people,” her voice cut out as the elevator rose up between floors. A few more jumbled words came through but it was static.

“Hang on Josie, we’re on the elevator,” Madeline said as she held her phone away from her face to see if the call dropped. Tapping her foot impatiently she waited for the elevator to reach their floor before darting out and putting the phone back to her ear.

“-blood and salvia.” Josephine finished, not realizing the call had dropped for a bit.

“Wait, explain again, we were on the elevator,” Madeline said as she fished out the apartment keys. She bit off her glove as she fumbled one handed with the key before getting the door unlocked and ushered Everett in.

“I don’t have time,” Josephine said a bit hurriedly. “Just pack up go bags and be ready. Have both of your passports just in case I can’t get arrangements for you to meet me at the CDC. Maybe I can get you down here.”

“Josephine,” Madeline said a bit sterner than she was feeling. “Are you fucking with me?” She looked at Everett who was peeling off his snow clothes in the laundry room, he hadn’t heard her. “Like is this a joke?”

“I’m not joking Madeline,” Josephine answered seriously, using her full name like Madeline had just done to her. “Your passport is with Everett’s in the lockbox in my closet I put it there when you moved in.” She knew her sister well enough that Madeline would lose it if someone didn’t keep track of it for her. “With some cash. I have a to go bag filled with essentials in there too. Tucked behind Garett’s old shit he never picked up.”

“Cash? This is...Josie please how bad can this really be?” She watched as Everett started poking in the pantry, using Madeline’s temporary distraction to sneak a snack before dinner. Traveling with a six-year-old was going to be hellacious. Everett was a good kid but children were not easy, especially when they were in new high stress situations. Madeline barely managed to figure out traveling herself, then she’d have to potentially go international. “What about Garett? Does he need to know?”

“Who cares about him? He left a year ago and hasn’t even called his son,” Josephine said agitated. “Look I have to go. Go pack. Now. Don’t wait. Once I get arrangements, I’ll call you and things are going to move quick…don’t roll your eyes.” She finished knowing Madeline had been in mid-roll. “And stay in the damn apartment. No midnight runs to the corner shop for ice cream, or to flirt with the neighbor down the hall.”

“You’re the worst,” Madeline answered before hanging up and looking at Everett who had quickly stuffed three cookies in his mouth so Madeline couldn’t tell him to put them back.

“When is mom coming home?” Everett asked as he glanced at the phone. He knew his mother worked odd hours, sometimes not calling for days but he had obviously clocked she hadn’t asked to speak to him. “Is she okay?”

“She’s alright bud, just busy. You know how she gets when she’s working,” Madeline said quietly, silently cursing herself for not calling him over to at least say hello. “Go take a shower,” Madeline said as she ruffled his hair which was damp with sweat and melted snow. He was shivering slightly and she knew a shower would warm him. Plus, if they were traveling, he needed to get cleaned up. She couldn’t remember the last time he showered and to be honest she could use one as well. “We’ll eat afterward,” she reasoned as he huffed and rubbed his stomach. “Those cookies you snuck should hold you off.”

When he was safely in the shower Madeline went into his room and grabbed a few clothes, staring at the potential items. What was she supposed to pack? The CDC was in Atlanta so that was warmer, but it was still winter. But if they were going to South America it would be way too hot for winter clothes. She sighed and tucked a few things under her arm before going to her room and pulling random things out of her dresser and closet. Yanking a duffle bag out, one of her exes that she had taken when she left him in the middle of the night over a year ago, she stuffed all their things inside of it. Then ventured into Josephine’s room, pausing to make sure Everett was still distracted. He was still singing in the shower and she smirked before delving into Josephine's closet.

The lockbox combo was Everett’s birthday and when Madeline opened it her eyes widened. There was a stack of cash, passports, divorce papers, and other random paperwork mingled inside, including her parent's wills. Fishing around all that Madeline took the cash and passports and jammed them into her duffle before pulling Josephine’s bag out from behind a box labeled ‘asshole’s shit’.

It was a professional looking backpack that had a handle and wheels, the perfect opposite of Madeline’s beaten and frayed bag. She unzipped one of the pockets to take a look at what her sister qualified as 'essentials' but heard Everett calling out to her from the kitchen. He was already in the cabinets and the rattling of pots because he was impatient. She left the bag half unzipped before standing up, she’d check it later.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“We have limited time,” Price said as he stared at Graves across the table from them. He had taken up the mantel of talking, Soap’s face had been murderous as he stared at the commander the moment he walked in the room. “Alejandro and Rudy checked in; it’s moving fast. Mexico is already starting to get overrun,” he tossed a file on the table. “This is intelligence from an hour ago, but based off Laswell’s call this is probably all outdated already.”

“What the fuck is it?” Gaz asked the question they had all been wanting to ask.

“Not sure boys,” Graves said as he pushed up from his chair. “The scientists have akin it to something like rabies, but it’s not killing the hosts and it's rapid onset. Some people get sick within minutes, others an hour or so. Just makes them crazed, they attack others unprovoked. Only way to put them down is,” he pointed between his eyes. “Body shots just piss them off more.”

“Even filling them with bullets?” Ghost asked and Graves nodded. “How?”

“It’s like they are running on pure muscle memory and electricity. Blood loss is nothing to them. You have to kill the brain to get them to stop,” Alex said as he gestured to the pile of paper in the center of the table. He hadn’t been able to sleep since they landed and spent the past few hours going through all the papers.

“Could always blow them up,” Soap stated, “doesn’t always fucking work though,” he added cutting a glare to Graves who merely gave him a sarcastic smirk in response. Soap adjusted in his chair like he would get up but Ghost quickly put a hand on his chest and pushed him back into the seat.

“If they aren’t really dead, or alive for that matter, once they get infected,” Gaz asked looking around, “what’s a cure going to do?”

“That’s above my pay grade,” Graves answered. “We don’t even know if they have a cure yet, or vaccine, but we need the information they’ve gathered.”

“So, what’s the plan? If it’s moving this fast we can’t just sit here,” Alex said, his thoughts instantly going to Farah. He had tried to call her when he touched down in Boston and settled in the nondescript building they were using as headquarters, but she didn’t answer. Not unusual but it made him uneasy.

“Their head scientist has a request,” Price said. “She wants us to get her family,” he looked at Graves who scoffed. “Her son is six,” he tacked on with a bit of an edge to his voice. “I told her if someone can get them here, we would take them. But they needed to be here before we left, we aren’t waiting.”

“Why is her son special?” Ghost asked, never one to worry about tact or being blunt. “There are plenty of children that are at risk.”

“Nothing,” Price answered curtly. “She asked and I said I’d see what I could do but I wasn’t going out of my way. She understood. She has four hours to get him and her sister here.”

“What are we going to do with a child and civilian in the jungles of Venezuela? It’s going to be bad enough keeping the scientists alive,” Gaz stated sitting back in his seat with a skeptical look. “They’d be safer here at home I’d think, or going out into the countryside a bit.”

“We’re not all going to Venezuela,” Graves answered. “Some of us are headed right to the CDC to prepare for their arrival. Russia is racing us to the finish line, if they think we’re going to win they’ll sabotage anyway they can.”

“And they know the CDC is where we will go,” Alex answered. “We’re taking the family to the CDC with us instead.”

“Exactly,” Price answered.

“Who got the short stick?” Soap asked, not really saying which he considered a short stick but everyone knew it meant being with Graves.

“Alex, Gaz, Graves, and I are headed to South America,” Price said and he saw Soap open his mouth to fight. “You, Ghost, and a chunk of Shadow company are headed to the CDC.”

“We’re on babysitting duty,” Ghost stated, his voice highly unimpressed.

“You’re transporting a kid and his aunt to the custody of the staff there, yes,” Price replied evenly. “If they get here. You just have to deal with them on the flight.”

“If all goes to plan, we’ll be back in a few days with the joint research team and they get to do the rest of the work. Our job is to keep them alive.” Graves filled in before someone busted into the room. All of them jumped and Ghost's hand itched instinctively to a throwing knife on his vest.

“Timeline is moved up,” a man said as Graves snatched a paper from him. “A flight that landed at Logan airport was quarantined on the tarmac for hours. Man flew in from Mexico after spending time in Venezuela. Fell ill halfway here and they suspected he had the sickness. When the local security finally breached the plane, everyone was too far gone and they couldn’t keep them contained. They didn’t wait for military,” he was panicking, the sweat on his brow and upper lip pronounced. “Boston is going to be overrun by daybreak. There are more reports of it all over the country as we speak.”

“Fuck,” Graves said as he threw the paper on the table. “We move now. We can’t get caught here,” he stated as he marched toward the door to start rallying his team together. “If it’s already that widespread here who knows how bad it is down in Venezuela.”

Alex grabbed a laptop and started to scroll through the news feeds. All the media had been quiet about the sickness mere hours ago and now it was cropping up in bits and pieces. He felt a cold sweat break down his back at what he was finding with each click. A sickness that hadn’t existed a week ago was showing its face all over the place at a rapid pace.

Social media was starting to flood with it and he froze as he saw a shaky video of someone filming a man brutally tackling a woman to the ground with a snarl and literally rip her apart. Her screams were shrill and everyone in the room turned to look at Alex who quickly lowered the volume, not realizing it was as high as it had been.

“How long until we’re wheels up?” Gaz asked as he moved around to look at the laptop with Alex who had moved on from that video. He was looking for anything in the Middle East, for Urzikstan. The sickness was already in Nigeria when he had left, which meant it had crossed the Atlantic which was much bigger than the distance between then Nigeria to Farah.

“Hour and a half,” Graves said as he stormed back in, “we leave here for the airfield in forty-five minutes.”

“That’s not going to be enough time for the boy and his aunt to get here,” Alex said as he glanced at his watch.

“Then they’re on their own,” Price answered simply.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Madeline had passed out on the couch and didn’t hear her phone vibrating on the coffee table for a bit, the wine pulling her into a deep stupor. She was already a hard sleeper but when wine was factored in it was a miracle her phone alarm could wake her in the morning. But by the tenth call in a row, the constant rattling had worked her phone to the edge of the coffee table and it crashed to the floor startling Madeline awake. She groaned and groped for it, then wincing when she saw all the missed calls. As she was about to call Josephine back her sister called again.

“Where have you been!” Josephine all but screamed in relief and anger. “Get up. You have to leave. Now. Get Everett up,” she ordered as Madeline barely sat up on the couch.

“What?” Madeline said groggily as she rubbed at her face. “Josephine, it's two in the morning,” she bemoaned as she tried to blink her tired eyes awake more.

“I’m well aware of the time,” Josephine stated. “I have a way for you to get to the CDC but you have to leave. Right now.”

“Can we not just fly out in the morn-” Madeline started.

“No! Madeline! It’s too late for all that.” Josephine barked. “Get your ass out of bed, get my son, and get in the fucking car. Now!” Her voice had an air of terror and that was enough to wake Madeline up a bit more.

“Alright, alright,” Madeline answered as she walked to the living room light switch and flipped it on, flinching at the brightness. “Why does it have to be now? What’s changed?” She asked as she stretched and headed toward Everett’s room. She had put him to bed around nine, later than normal, and she knew he was going to be a nightmare to try and get up. He was like her with his need to sleep, she had literally dragged him out of the bed before.

“It’s already everywhere Mads. We’re,” she paused, “we’re locked up inside of an old school building. Our camp was overrun,” she stopped again. “We lost half the team. I don’t…please just get a pen and write down this address.”

“Half your team? What the hell is this? You seemed fine just a few hours ago...” Madeline stated as she paused her trek to Everett’s room and went to her own to get a post-it off her desk to write down the address Josephine gave her.

“It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen,” Josephine answered before she babbled off the address. It was a place across town, a twenty-minute drive when there was no traffic on a good day. “Stay away from people if you can. Don’t talk to anyone, don’t stop,” she sighed. “Just get to that building and ask for a man named Price, John Price. Tell them who you and Everett are, explain that you are my sister. They know to be on the lookout for you.”

Madeline wrote the information down before her phone buzzed with a message, then another, then it started to vibrate with a warning like an Amber alert. She hesitated and pulled the phone away from her ear to look at it. It was an emergency broadcast to remain indoors due to an undisclosed threat, more information would follow.

“Josie,” Madeline breathed, feeling her chest tighten. This whole time she had been thinking, hoping, her sister may have been just a touch extra paranoid, but a citywide alert going out made this real. She was getting messages from news outlets now sharing news about the alert. “They just sent a city alert to stay indoors.” Her phone buzzed with the same alert again and she saw the Alexa in the kitchen flash with the warning as well.

“Shit. It’s already out of control there. I knew they were slow to alert us down here,” Josephine snapped before taking a steadying breath. Her voice changed instantly to a calming tone, like a mother talking to their scared child.  “Go now. Get the stuff you packed earlier…you did pack, right?” She tacked on and when Madeline whispered yes, she continued. “Get to John Price and you’ll be fine. Get Everett up, get in the car, and on the road. My phone is about to die, I’ve been on it all day and power is spotty here. But you call me when you get to John.”

“Josie, how bad is this?” Madeline breathed feeling the panic welling up inside her as her phone continued to go berserk with news.

“I’ve never lied to you, have I?” Josephine asked calmly and when Madeline didn’t answer she continued, “this is as bad as it gets, Mads. You need to get out of Boston.”

[everett-mulligan]

( taylor kinney, cis male, he & him ) — is that really everett mulligan? i thought so, since i heard into the jungle by x ambassodors ft jamie n commons blasting just now. well, welcome to cole, wyoming! what brings you here as a 43 year-old? a job as a lieutenant firefighter at firehouse 10? wonderful. we’re glad to have you. talk around town is you can be a little hot headed, but i myself believe you’re more courageous… but is it true that you come from money & politics? wild. well, i’ll let you get back to it!

Kelly Mulligan was born and raised in Cole, Wyoming. He had met his wife during his Sophomore year in College all the way in New York at New York University. Sybil Wilson was a Freshman and from Atlanta, Georgia. They were in the same class, and of course Sybil forgot all of her pens and pencils, sitting next to Kelly asking for one. It didn’t take much for Kelly to fall for the studious Freshman and he didn’t care that she was a grade younger. 

Kelly came from a long line of Firefighters and Politicians, and even though that’s what his parents and grandparents wanted him to be, Kelly did not. Kelly wanted to study business and politics. That’s exactly what he did, Kelly studied business communications, while Sylvie supported his decision she studied english and early education. Overall the two had a good college experience, nothing too extreme. Had a good group of friends, kept to themselves. 

It wasn’t until they graduated that Kelly had proposed to Sylvie, with her of course saying yes. With their wedding coming and going, the two were happy and in love. During their honeymoon, the two officially decided they wanted a big family. That’s exactly what they got. 

William Thomas Mulligan was the first born, then Mitchell Michael Mulligan, then Addison Christine Mulligan, Everett Reilly Mulligan, and finally Isabelle Rose Mulligan. The Mulligan siblings were tight night and loved each other more than anything. 

Everett had a charmed life. He grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth, and while money wasn’t everything, Everett had his parents to thank for not struggling. He got good grades in school, was popular and genially just loved being with is family. His family meant everything to him, but when he was a Senior in High School, the man realized he wanted to get out into the World and explore a little bit. He chose Boston University in Boston, Massachusetts. Majoring in Criminal Justice and minoring in Safety Studies. However that wasn’t what he wanted to do in life. With being lost after graduation, it was his grandfather on his dads side who suggested he’d become a firefighter like he was.

Moving back home to Cole, Wyoming, Everett went straight into the academy and became a firefighter. A few years after, he became Lieutenant. It made him happy, being able to help whenever he could and being close to his family again. Though the man was lonely, and someone on squad had set him up on a blind date. Juliette Stone, the girl he didn’t realize who was from Cole, Wyoming. The first date went well, and when she agreed to the second date then the rest was history. Like his father did with his mother, Everett had fallen hard for the young women. Normally he didn’t but there was something about Juliette Stone whom he simply just called Julie. Things were good between them for a few years, leading Everett to buy an engagement ring. 

Right before proposing, their relationship took a turn. Always fighting, always disagreeing on things and that’s when she packed up her bags and left without a word. Not till days after, telling him she had gotten a job offer in some other state she just couldn’t turn down. It crushed him, broke him.  Though the man had his family, and his job and stayed in Cole and has been here ever since. 

[alwayscoldj]

Top 10 Fiction Rom Com Books of 2023

Romantic comedies are a great way to escape the stresses of everyday life and lose yourself in a heartwarming and humorous story. From unlikely love stories to laugh-out-loud moments, rom com books have something for everyone. In this blog post, we will take a look at the top 10 fiction rom com books of 2023.

1. "The Hating Game" by Sally Thorne

Lucy Hutton and Joshua Templeman are two co-workers who can't stand each other. Forced to share an office, they engage in a fierce competition that masks their true feelings for each other. "The Hating Game" is a witty and charming love story that will have you rooting for Lucy and Joshua until the very end.

2. "The Unhoneymooners" by Christina Lauren

Olive Torres and Ethan Thomas are the only two people not affected by food poisoning at their siblings' wedding. Forced to spend their honeymoon together, despite their mutual dislike of each other, they soon discover that things are not always as they seem. "The Unhoneymooners" is a hilarious and heartwarming tale of enemies turned lovers.

3. "The Kiss Quotient" by Helen Hoang

Stella Lane is a successful econometrician who has trouble with intimacy. She hires Michael Phan, an escort, to teach her how to be better at sex. As they spend more time together, they realize that they have a deeper connection. "The Kiss Quotient" is a steamy and emotional love story that explores the complexities of relationships.

4. "The Flatshare" by Beth O'Leary

Tiffy and Leon share a flat, but they have never met. Leon works nights, and Tiffy works days, so they communicate through post-it notes. As their friendship grows, they begin to share more than just their flat. "The Flatshare" is a charming and quirky love story that will leave you with a smile on your face.

5. "Love Lettering" by Kate Clayborn

Meg Mackworth is a calligrapher who creates beautiful wedding invitations. When Reid Sutherland, a client, notices a hidden message in the invitation she designed for his wedding, he confronts her. As they work together to uncover the mystery, they discover a connection that goes beyond the letters on the page. "Love Lettering" is a delightful and enchanting love story that celebrates the power of words.

6. "The Wedding Party" by Jasmine Guillory

Maddie and Theo are two people who hate each other but have a mutual friend, Alexa, who is getting married. As they plan the wedding together, they realize that they have more in common than they thought. "The Wedding Party" is a fun and flirty love story that explores the complexities of relationships and the importance of friendship.

7. "The Bromance Book Club" by Lyssa Kay Adams

Gavin Scott's marriage is on the rocks, and he has no idea how to fix it. His friends introduce him to the Bromance Book Club, a group of men who read romance novels to improve their relationships. As they read and discuss the books, Gavin learns valuable lessons about love and communication. "The Bromance Book Club" is a hilarious and heartwarming love story that celebrates the power of friendship.

8. "Beach Read" by Emily Henry

January Andrews is a romance writer who has lost her inspiration. When she runs into her college rival, Augustus Everett, at their shared beach house, they make a bet to switch genres. As they work on their novels, they discover a deeper connection. "Beach Read" is a charming and emotional love story that celebrates the power of storytelling.

9. "The Happy Ever After Playlist" by Abby Jimenez

Sloan Monroe's life is turned upside down when she finds a lost dog on the side of the road. She contacts the owner, Jason, and they begin to bond over their love for the dog. As they navigate their complicated lives, they realize that they have a connection that can't be ignored. "The Happy Ever After Playlist" is a heartwarming and uplifting love story that celebrates the power of second chances.

10. "Well Met" by Jen DeLuca

Emily Parker moves to a small town to take care of her sister after a car accident. She volunteers for the local Renaissance Faire and meets Simon, a man who plays a pirate. As they navigate their roles in the Faire, they discover a connection that goes beyond their costumes. "Well Met" is a charming and enchanting love story that celebrates the power of community.

These 10 fiction rom com books of 2023 offer a range of heartwarming and humorous love stories that will have you laughing, crying, and falling in love. Whether you're looking for a steamy or sweet romance, these books have something for everyone. So, curl up with a good book and lose yourself in a world of love and laughter.

[natteryaktoad]

Silas & Maria Land, Day 84, Part 1

Luca: What am I 'posed to do next?

Luca: Daddy, I baked a muffin and it was only a little tiny bit burnt.

Silas: Good job, kiddo. You'll be making dinner for everyon in no time, eh?

Luca: Only if I can make it in my own oven!

That looks like a comfortable hug...

Despite Everett coming over for dinner several times and MC being a Popularity sim, these two aren't actually friends yet. Let's see if we can fix that.

Luca really wanted to befriend Mr Cousin (aka Homie) but he's in Twikkii right now, so he had to settle for making best friends with Charlie, who's also not quite his cousin (maybe second cousin? I think they share Homer and Beulah as great-grandparents).

Silas: Wilson! What are you doing here?

Wilson: I was just passing and thought I'd pop in and say hi - if that's okay?

Silas: Yeah, of course. Hey, have you met Ev?

Silas: Ev, this is Wilson - we were at college together, and his wife's sort of a cousin-in-law. Wilson, this is Everett.

Wilson: Hi, it's good to meet you.

Of course it's perfectly reasonable to canoodle when you've got guests.

Everett: You're really good at catch, Luca.

Silas decided to invite Everett around for the evening, because he hasn't been too communicative recently and Silas wonders if something's wrong. Whilst Everett was getting to know MC (how are they not friends already), Wilson randomly wandered in, so I guess he's hanging out here this evening too.

[alicevgcna]

Leading CNA Classes in Seattle: Your Guide to Fast-Track Nursing Certifications

Top CNA Classes in Seattle: Your Guide to Fast-Track Nursing Certifications

Are you considering a career in healthcare and looking to become a Certified Nursing Assistant (CNA) in Seattle? With growing demand for healthcare professionals in ​the Pacific Northwest, Seattle offers numerous CNA classes that can help you accelerate your ‌training process and achieve your certification quickly. In this ‌comprehensive guide, we’ll explore the best CNA programs in Seattle, examine their benefits, share practical tips for success, and highlight why a CNA certification can be your stepping stone into a rewarding nursing career.

why Choose a CNA Program in Seattle?

Seattle is known for its vibrant healthcare industry and top-rated medical facilities. Enrolling in a CNA program here offers:

Fast-track certification: Manny programs can ‌prepare you for the CNA exam in as little as 4-8 weeks.

High demand: Certified CNAs are in high demand in Seattle’s‌ hospitals, nursing homes,⁣ and home care agencies.

Career growth opportunities: CNA certification can serve as a stepping stone to advanced nursing roles like Licensed Practical Nurse (LPN)‌ or Registered Nurse (RN).

Supportive community: Seattle boasts numerous resources and networks to support new healthcare professionals.

Top CNA Classes in Seattle: Your Best Options

Choosing the right CNA program is crucial⁣ for‌ a fast and triumphant path ⁢to certification. Below are some of the top-rated CNA classes in Seattle that offer comprehensive training, flexible schedules, and excellent pass rates.

Program Name

Location

Duration

Highlights

Estimated Cost

seattle Central College CNA ‌Program

Seattle Central Campus

4-6 weeks

Hybrid format, State-approved, Job placement assistance

$1,200

North Seattle College CNA Certificate

North Seattle Campus

5 weeks

Hands-on clinicals, Flexible evening classes

$1,300

Everett Community College CNA Course

Everett, near Seattle

5 weeks

Accredited program, Prep for state exam included

$1,200

Council for Certified Nursing ��Assistants​ (CCNA) Seattle Branch

Downtown Seattle

6 weeks

Intensive training, Exam prep offered

$1,500

Seattle​ Skills Institute

Seattle Downtown

4-8 weeks

Fast-track options, ‌Simulated clinical practice

$1,400

How to Choose the Right⁣ CNA ⁢program in Seattle

Picking the ideal CNA‍ class involves considering several factors to align with​ your career‍ goals and personal circumstances:

Accreditation: Ensure the program is approved by⁤ the Washington State ⁣Department of Health.

Schedule ⁣Adaptability: Look for programs ⁤offering evening ​or weekend classes if you work or have other commitments.

Cost ⁣& Financial Aid: Compare tuition and ‍inquire about scholarships, grants, or payment plans.

Clinical Experience: Programs with ample hands-on ​training increase ‌your confidence and skill set.

Pass Rates: ​ Check the program’s success ⁢rate on the state CNA exam.

Benefits of Becoming a Certified Nursing Assistant in seattle

embarking on your CNA journey in Seattle offers numerous ⁣advantages:

Immediate job opportunities: ‌ The healthcare industry in Seattle actively seeks new CNAs.

Competitive wages: ⁢ Entry-level CNA salaries in Seattle are among the highest in ⁣the country.

Personal fulfillment: Providing compassionate care offers a sense of community and purpose.

Pathway to further nursing education: Use your CNA⁣ experience as a foundation to advance into LPN or RN roles.

Practical ​Tips for Success ⁣in CNA Classes

To maximize your chances of ‌success in your ‍CNA training, ⁣keep‌ these tips in ⁣mind:

Stay organized: Keep track of clinical schedules, exam dates, and coursework.

Practice clinical skills: repetition enhances confidence and competence.

Engage‍ actively: Participate in class discussions and clinicals.

Seek support: Connect with instructors and‍ peers for guidance and motivation.

Prepare thoroughly ⁣for the exam: ​ Use ​practice tests ⁢and ‌review materials provided by your program.

Case Study: From Student to Certified CNA in⁤ Seattle

Meet ‍Sarah, a recent graduate from the North ⁤Seattle College CNA program. she completed her training in five ‍weeks while working part-time. Thanks to the ⁢program’s clinical‌ focus ⁣and supportive instructors, she felt confident for her certification exam. Within ⁣a​ month, Sarah⁤ secured a position at a Seattle nursing home, earning ‍a competitive wage and gaining practical experience. Her journey exemplifies how choosing the right CNA class can kick-start a fulfilling healthcare career in Seattle.

First-Hand Experience:⁤ What to Expect⁢ During CNA‌ Training

Most CNA programs in Seattle include:

theory classes: Covering basic nursing procedures, patient rights, infection control, and more.

Skills lab practice: ‍ Hands-on practice with mannequins and fellow students.

Clinical rotations: Real-world experience in healthcare settings under supervision.

Exam preparation: Review sessions designed to prepare you for the state certification exam.

Expect a mix ​of classroom learning, practical ‌skill progress, and clinical hours-culminating in ⁤eligibility to take the washington State ​CNA exam and launch ⁢your⁤ healthcare career.

Conclusion: Start Your CNA Journey in Seattle Today!

Becoming a Certified Nursing Assistant in Seattle is an achievable and rewarding goal.By choosing the‍ right CNA classes-such as Seattle Central College, North ⁣Seattle College, or Everett Community​ College-you can fast-track your certification and step into a​ healthcare⁤ role with confidence. Remember to‍ consider⁤ program accreditation, ‍flexibility, costs, and clinical experience when selecting your training. With dedication and the right support, you’ll‌ soon be providing compassionate care and building ⁤a strong foundation for future nursing opportunities in Seattle’s thriving healthcare industry.

Don’t wait-your nursing career starts today ⁣with the right CNA class in Seattle!

https://cnaclassesonline.net/leading-cna-classes-in-seattle-your-guide-to-fast-track-nursing-certifications/

[oliviaphleb]

Discover Top-Rated Phlebotomy Training in Spokane: Your Gateway to a Thriving Healthcare Career

Discover Top-Rated phlebotomy Training ‌in Spokane: Your⁢ Gateway to a Thriving Healthcare Career

Are you interested in‍ entering the dynamic healthcare industry? If so, phlebotomy training ​in Spokane offers an excellent pathway to a rewarding career as a healthcare technician. With numerous accredited programs,flexible schedules,and⁢ experienced⁢ instructors,Spokane provides a fertile ⁢ground for aspiring phlebotomists to acquire the skills they need to‌ succeed. In this comprehensive​ guide, we’ll ‌explore‍ the top-rated ⁣phlebotomy courses available in Spokane, discuss the benefits of becoming ‍a​ certified phlebotomist, and share⁤ practical tips to help‍ you start your‌ journey ⁤today.

Why ​Choose a Career ​in‍ Phlebotomy?

Phlebotomy is ‍a crucial component of diagnostic healthcare, involving the collection of blood samples for tests, transfusions, or donations.Here’s why ‍pursuing a phlebotomy career in Spokane is a ⁣smart choice:

High demand: Healthcare facilities in Spokane ⁤need ‍qualified phlebotomists regularly.

Good earning potential: Entry-level phlebotomists‌ in Spokane earn competitive wages.

Flexible work habitat: ​ Opportunities in hospitals, clinics,⁣ labs, and mobile blood donation units.

Rapid certification process: Most training programs can be completed in a few​ months.

top-Rated Phlebotomy‌ Training ⁣Programs in spokane

Finding the right training program is essential for your success. Below​ is ⁤a curated list of the top-rated ⁤ phlebotomy courses in Spokane,each known for their quality instruction,comprehensive ⁣curriculum,and excellent student support.

Program‌ Name

Format

Duration

Cost

highlights

Spokane Technical College

In-Person‍ & Hybrid

4-8 weeks

$1,200

Affordable,Practical ⁤Skills,State ⁤Certification prep

Everett Community College

In-Person

6 weeks

$1,500

Hands-on experiance,Job placement assistance

Tri-Cities phlebotomy Training

Online & In-Person

5 ⁤weeks

$1,000

Interactive online modules,local clinics for practicum

Spokane⁢ Healthcare Academy

Hybrid

6-7 weeks

$1,300

Certification course,Certified instructor-led training

Benefits of Certified Phlebotomy ⁤Training in Spokane

Completing a ⁣reputable phlebotomy certification program in spokane unlocks numerous benefits:

Credential​ validity: Certification ⁤from ⁢recognized bodies‌ (e.g., ASCP, NHA) enhances employability.

Skill mastery: Hands-on training ensures you’re⁣ prepared​ for real-world scenarios.

Job opportunities: Certified technicians have priority hiring prospects in Spokane’s healthcare sector.

Potential career growth: Transitions into roles‌ like phlebotomy supervisor, trainer,‍ or lab ‍technician.

Practical Tips for Choosing ⁢the⁤ Right Phlebotomy Program in Spokane

Embarking on your training journey requires thoughtful decision-making. here ⁣are some practical tips:

verify accreditation: Make​ sure the program is accredited by reputable organizations such as the ‍National​ Healthcareer Association (NHA) or American society for Clinical Pathology (ASCP).

Consider location and schedule: Opt for programs with flexible ​schedules ⁤or online options compatible with your⁣ commitments.

Assess​ hands-on training: Prioritize programs⁢ that offer real-world practicum experiences.

Check⁣ employment support: Look‍ for programs with job placement assistance or connections in Spokane’s healthcare facilities.

Read reviews and testimonials: Gather insights ‌from past students to understand program⁢ quality and outcomes.

Case ⁤Study: Success Story ⁢of a⁣ Spokane⁣ Phlebotomy Graduate

Sarah’s⁤ Journey: After completing her ​phlebotomy training‌ at Spokane Technical ‌College, Sarah quickly secured a position at Spokane Regional Health Center. Her practical skills and​ certification helped her stand out, and⁢ within six months, she was promoted to ⁣lead phlebotomist. Sarah ⁤credits her ‌success⁤ to the comprehensive training ⁤and dedicated instructors that prepared ‌her for real-world challenges.

First-Hand Experience: Tips from a Spokane Phlebotomist

We spoke with Emily, a seasoned ⁤phlebotomist⁤ in Spokane, who shared her insights:

“Getting proper training was crucial. Practice‍ makes perfect,especially when dealing with anxious ‍patients. ‍Also, staying calm and professional is key⁤ to making the blood draw smoother and more comfortable for ‌everyone.”

Conclusion

Embarking on a ‌career in phlebotomy in Spokane is an exciting‍ opportunity filled with ⁣growth, stability, and fulfillment. Whether ‍you’re just ‍starting or looking to enhance your credentials,⁣ choosing the right top-rated phlebotomy​ training program in Spokane ⁤is the first crucial step. By ⁢focusing on accredited programs‌ that offer practical experience and certification, you​ set‍ yourself up for success in Spokane’s ⁤thriving healthcare industry. Take your first ⁣step today towards‍ a rewarding career that makes a real difference ‍in people’s lives!

https://phlebotomytechnicianschools.org/discover-top-rated-phlebotomy-training-in-spokane-your-gateway-to-a-thriving-healthcare-career/

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Open Your Future: The Top CNA Programs in Washington State for 2024

Unlock Your Future: The Top CNA ⁣Programs ⁤in Washington State for 2024

Are you looking to embark on a fulfilling career in ‍healthcare? Becoming a Certified Nursing Assistant ⁢(CNA) can be an⁤ excellent ‍choice. With the demand for healthcare services⁤ skyrocketing, now ⁢is the perfect time to‍ unlock your future by ⁣enrolling in ‍one of the top ‍CNA programs in ⁤Washington State ‌for 2024.

Why Choose a CNA Career?

CNA roles‌ are essential in the healthcare sector, providing support to patients and assisting nurses as they ⁣perform their‍ duties. here​ are several benefits of pursuing a CNA ⁢career:

High Demand: There’s⁢ a strong⁣ job market for CNAs, with many healthcare facilities actively seeking qualified candidates.

Fast-Track Career: CNA⁣ programs can often be‌ completed in a matter of ‍months, allowing you to enter ⁤the workforce ​quickly.

Emotional Rewards: Helping ‍patients and‍ making a positive ⁢impact on their lives is incredibly fulfilling.

Flexible​ Work Hours: Many facilities offer various shifts, providing you with the possibility ⁤to work in a⁢ manner⁢ that fits your lifestyle.

Top CNA Programs in Washington State⁣ for 2024

With numerous options available, it can be⁤ challenging to⁣ choose the right CNA⁣ program for you. Below ​is a curated list of the top CNA ‌programs in Washington ‌State for 2024.

Program Name

Location

Duration

Cost

Clark College

Vancouver, WA

6 weeks

$1,600

Seattle​ Central College

Seattle, WA

5 weeks

$1,500

Whatcom ⁣Community College

Bellingham, WA

8⁢ weeks

$1,300

Everett Community ⁤College

Everett, ‍WA

6 weeks

$1,400

Spokane Community College

Spokane, WA

7 weeks

$1,500

Program Highlights and Features

Each‌ of these programs offers ​unique features that cater to different learning preferences and schedules:

Hands-On Training: ⁢Most programs ⁢include⁢ clinical practice, allowing students to ‌apply what‍ they ⁤learn in a real-world setting.

Career Counseling: Many institutions provide resources for job placement,helping graduates transition smoothly into the workforce.

Flexible Scheduling: Evening and weekend​ classes are often ⁢available⁤ to accommodate working individuals.

Practical Tips for CNA Aspirants

To ⁢set yourself up for success in your CNA journey,consider these practical tips:

Research Each ​Program: Explore multiple programs,read reviews,and understand ​the curriculum⁢ offered.

Prepare for the Entrance Exam: Many programs require⁤ a basic‍ skills ‍assessment; practice ⁤beforehand.

Network: Connect ‌with ‌current students and ⁢professionals in the field ‌for firsthand insights⁤ and‍ guidance.

Budget Wisely: Plan for ⁢tuition, books, uniforms,‍ and any additional fees.

First-Hand Experience: A CNA Graduate’s Journey

Jane Smith, a 2023 graduate of Seattle Central College’s CNA program, shares ⁤her experience:

“Enrolling in ​the CNA program was​ one of the best decisions I ever made. ​The combination of ⁢classroom learning and⁤ hands-on training made me feel prepared to enter the workforce. I enjoyed every moment ‍of⁢ my clinical rotation, where I‍ interacted​ with patients and learned practical skills from experienced nurses. Now, ⁤I work at ‍a local‌ hospital and love making‍ a difference in peopel’s lives every day!”

Conclusion

As you consider your future‍ in‌ healthcare, ⁤becoming a Certified Nursing Assistant in Washington State is a ⁤fantastic way to make an impact while⁢ enjoying a fulfilling career. With numerous CNA programs available in 2024,⁤ you have a wealth of options ⁤at your fingertips.⁣ Take the time ​to explore each program, understand their benefits, and choose the one that best aligns with your‍ goals and‍ lifestyle.Your journey to a rewarding career in healthcare starts now!

https://cnatrainingcentral.com/open-your-future-the-top-cna-programs-in-washington-state-for-2024/

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Open Your Healthcare Career: Top CNA Classes in Seattle You Can't Miss!

Unlock​ Your Healthcare Career: Top CNA Classes in ​Seattle You Can’t Miss!

If ‌you’re looking to embark on a rewarding career in healthcare, becoming‍ a Certified Nursing Assistant (CNA) is a fantastic starting point. Seattle boasts ⁣a wealth of quality training ‌programs that can make your journey towards obtaining your CNA certification both achievable and enjoyable. ​In this article,we’ll explore the top CNA classes in Seattle,offering insights into their features,benefits,and more. Let’s ‍jump‍ in!

Why Become a‍ CNA?

Before‍ diving⁢ into the classes,⁤ it’s ‌essential to⁤ understand​ why‌ becoming ‌a CNA can be a beneficial‍ career choice.

High Demand: CNAs are in high demand across various healthcare settings. With the aging⁤ population, the need for skilled healthcare professionals continues‌ to grow.

Job‍ Satisfaction: CNAs play a crucial‍ role in patient care, making a significant impact on residents’ ⁢lives, which leads to high job ⁢satisfaction.

Short Training Period: Compared to other healthcare professions, ‍CNA training programs are relatively short, ‍typically⁤ lasting between 4 to 12 ⁣weeks.

Career Advancement: working as a CNA can provide you ‍with the experience ​and knowledge needed to advance further in​ the medical field.

Top CNA Classes​ in Seattle

Here’s a detailed‌ look at some of⁣ the best CNA ⁢training programs in Seattle that you ⁤can’t miss.

Provider

Program Duration

Tuition

Location

Seattle Central College

11 Weeks

$1,000

Capitol Hill

North⁢ Seattle‍ College

5 Weeks

$1,050

Northgate

Job Corps Centre – ⁤Seattle

8 Weeks

Free

South Seattle

Caregiver Training Institute

4 Weeks

$900

South ⁤Lake Union

Everett ⁢Community College

6 Weeks

$899

Everett

1. seattle Central ⁣College

Seattle ⁣Central College offers a comprehensive CNA program ⁤that covers both theoretical and practical ‌components. Students benefit from experienced instructors ​and modern facilities.

2.North Seattle College

This program is designed for those looking for a quick yet thorough entrance into the healthcare industry. It’s notably well-known for its hands-on training approach.

3. ⁣Job Corps Center – ⁣Seattle

The Job Corps Center offers free CNA training for qualifying individuals.This program is especially ⁢beneficial for young adults‌ seeking to enter ⁤the ⁤workforce without significant​ financial burdens.

4. Caregiver Training institute

The caregiver ‍Training Institute provides an accelerated pathway to obtaining​ your CNA certificate. Their program emphasizes‍ practical skills and real-world scenarios.

5. everett Community College

Located just north ‌of Seattle,Everett Community College provides an excellent CNA program⁤ with flexible scheduling options,ideal for students with busy ​lives.

Benefits of ‍Taking a CNA Course

enrolling in a CNA program offers numerous advantages, including:

hands-On Experience: CNA training includes practical⁤ training, ‍ensuring you ‌are well-prepared for ‍real-world ‌situations.

Networking Opportunities: Manny programs connect students with potential employers,​ aiding in job ‍placement after graduation.

Financial ‌Aid Options: ⁣Some institutions provide financial assistance,⁣ making education more⁣ accessible.

Comprehensive Curriculum: ⁣ Courses cover essential subjects like anatomy, ⁤patient ⁤care, ⁢safety protocols, and infection control.

Practical Tips for Success in CNA Training

Success⁢ in your⁣ CNA training​ program is attainable with the ⁢right ‍approach. Here are some practical ​tips:

Stay⁣ Organized: Keep track​ of your ⁣assignments, schedules, and⁤ training hours.

Practice Skills Regularly: Regular practice will​ enhance your competency in‌ various⁤ nursing skills.

Ask Questions: Engage with your instructors and ⁢peers to clarify‍ doubts and share knowledge.

Network: Build relationships with classmates and instructors⁤ for future ‍job opportunities.

Case⁢ Study: Success of a Seattle CNA Graduate

Meet Jessica, a⁤ proud graduate of North Seattle College’s CNA program. After completing ​her ⁣training,‌ Jessica found a full-time ‍job in⁣ a⁣ local ‌hospital. She attributes her success ‌to the hands-on experience and​ the robust support system provided by her instructors during her training. Jessica now plans to advance her career further by enrolling​ in nursing school.

First-Hand Experience: What ​to Expect in CNA‌ Programs

Many ‌fresh students wonder​ what to expect during their training. Here’s a brief overview:

Classroom Learning: Expect to ‌learn about the healthcare system, medical terminology, and ‌patient rights.

Clinical Rotations: You’ll ‌gain practical experience ​working with patients under the supervision of licensed nurses.

Exams and Assessments: Regular quizzes and ⁣assessments will test your knowledge and preparedness.

Conclusion

Embarking ‌on a career as a Certified Nursing Assistant can be a fulfilling and impactful choice. ⁣Seattle ​offers a variety of programs designed to⁢ equip you with the ​necessary skills and knowledge. By enrolling‍ in one of the top CNA classes listed in this⁤ article, you can set yourself on the ‌path to a rewarding healthcare career.Remember to leverage networking opportunities, practice diligently, and enjoy ⁤the journey into ‍this essential field of⁣ service. So, what are you ‌waiting​ for? ⁣Unlock your ⁤healthcare career today!

https://coursescna.com/open-your-healthcare-career-top-cna-classes-in-seattle-you-cant-miss/

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Open Your Future: Top Phlebotomy Training Programs in Tacoma, WA

Unlock Your Future: Top Phlebotomy Training ⁤Programs‌ in Tacoma,WA

Are you looking to start a rewarding career in⁣ the healthcare industry? Phlebotomy is a fantastic option,offering not only job stability⁤ but also the⁣ chance to make ⁣a meaningful impact on patients’ lives. In⁤ this article, ⁣we’ll explore the ⁣top phlebotomy training programs in Tacoma, WA, and ‌equip you with the knowledge needed to ‌make an informed decision.

What is Phlebotomy?

Phlebotomy is the process of drawing blood from patients‍ for medical testing,transfusions,and donations. Phlebotomists play a crucial role in the healthcare system as they are responsible for ensuring the procedures are carried out safely and efficiently.

Benefits of Becoming a Phlebotomist

High Demand: The healthcare industry continues to grow, creating numerous opportunities for skilled phlebotomists.

Quick Training: ⁣Many programs offer certification in as little as four months.

Flexible⁤ Schedule: Phlebotomists often‌ have ⁤varied work hours,‍ accommodating different⁤ lifestyles.

meaningful Work: Contributing‍ to ​patient care ‍and⁤ well-being offers great⁣ personal satisfaction.

Top Phlebotomy Training Programs in Tacoma, WA

Here are the ‍best options available for ‍those wishing to pursue phlebotomy⁣ training​ in Tacoma:

program Name

institution

Duration

Certification

Phlebotomy ‌Technician Certificate

Tacoma Community College

4⁢ months

NHA​ Certification

Medical Assistant Program

Pierce College

1 year

CCMA ‌Certification

Phlebotomy Training⁣ Course

Allied Health Institute

8 weeks

ASCP Certification

Phlebotomy Certification Program

Everett Community college

5 months

National Phlebotomy Association Certification

1. Tacoma Community College

The Phlebotomy Technician Certificate at Tacoma Community College⁢ is ⁤one of the ​most respected programs in the ​area.The course is designed to provide in-depth knowledge⁤ and practical skills.Graduates are eligible for⁣ the National Healthcareer Association ​(NHA) certification, ⁢opening⁣ doors to‍ numerous employment opportunities.

2. Pierce College

Pierce College offers a comprehensive ‌Medical⁢ Assistant Program that includes phlebotomy training. This year-long program⁣ ensures that students are well-versed in various ‍medical assistant skills, making them highly employable in the⁢ healthcare field.

3. allied health ‍Institute

With its eight-week Phlebotomy Training Course, Allied Health Institute focuses on practical applications and real-world scenarios. The⁣ curriculum prepares students for the American Society for Clinical Pathology (ASCP) certification⁤ exam.

4. Everett Community College

Everett Community ​College’s Phlebotomy Certification Program provides intensive training over five months. Students gain hands-on experience and theoretical knowledge, leading to National‌ Phlebotomy Association certification.

Practical Tips for aspiring Phlebotomists

Research Programs: Look‍ for accredited institutions that ‌offer comprehensive training and hands-on experience.

Check for Financial Aid: Many programs offer​ financial⁤ assistance. don’t hesitate to inquire about‍ scholarships‌ or grants.

Prepare for Certification: Ensure your⁣ program includes readiness​ for national certification ⁤exams.

Network: Connect with professionals in the field.Join‍ local health organizations or relevant social media groups.

First-Hand Experience: A Day​ in the Life of a Phlebotomist

To better understand‌ what it’s like to be a phlebotomist, let’s look at ​a typical day.⁤ Meet Sarah, a certified phlebotomist in Tacoma.

Sarah starts her day early at the local hospital,preparing her tools,including ‍needles,tubes,and antiseptics. Once‌ her shift begins,she greets patients,explaining ​the process to put them​ at ease. As a phlebotomist,Sarah emphasizes the importance of precision‍ and empathy. ⁤With several patients scheduled, she efficiently ⁣draws‌ blood samples, ensuring each procedure is painless and seamless.

The job isn’t just about⁤ drawing blood; Sarah also collaborates with other healthcare professionals, ensuring that specimens are handled correctly for‍ diagnostic testing.Her‌ role is pivotal in providing doctors with the necessary information for patient care.

Job Opportunities for Phlebotomists in Tacoma

The job market for phlebotomists ⁢in Tacoma is promising, with many healthcare facilities continuously seeking ‌qualified candidates.Opportunities​ can be found in:

Hospitals

Diagnostic laboratories

Blood donation centers

Urgent care clinics

Research institutions

Conclusion

Launching a career in phlebotomy can be a transformative step toward a fulfilling​ future in healthcare.⁢ The growing demand for phlebotomists ‍in Tacoma, compounded with the ⁣array of available training programs, makes it ⁢the perfect time to start your journey. Whether you ⁢choose‍ Tacoma Community college, Pierce College, Allied Health Institute, or Everett Community College, each⁣ program ​equips you with the knowledge and skills necessary to succeed.

So,‍ what ⁣are you⁢ waiting for? ​Unlock your ​future‌ today by​ enrolling in⁢ a phlebotomy training program in Tacoma,⁢ WA!

https://phlebotomycareertraining.net/open-your-future-top-phlebotomy-training-programs-in-tacoma-wa/