#odin bello

[justabigassnerd]

Secrets and Their Burdens

Pairing - Tim Bradford x reader

Word count - 21.8K

Warnings - inaccurate police & FBI scenes, drugs, needles, addiction, nausea, mentions of throwing up, angst, kidnapping, swearing, Graceland spoilers, alcohol, guns, murder

Summary - after an undercover mission gone wrong, you are forced to hide a secret from Tim until his curiosity (and jealousy) get the better of him

A/N - hey y'all! I'm so sorry it's been so long since I last posted a fic, I truly have no excuse other than the fact that this fic just ended up being so much longer than I expected (genuinely I'm sorry for the length). like I mentioned before, this is a crossover fic with the tv show Graceland so tbh I'm not expecting this fic to do very well I literally wrote this for me (but I'm more than willing to answer any questions people may have about it). I did have a lot of fun writing it though and I do kinda hope y'all enjoy it too. as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

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Being an FBI agent wasn’t the easiest job in the world, especially when a large chunk of your life was spent lying while undercover with some of the most dangerous people in Los Angeles. You had moved into a mixed agency house called Graceland and had quickly formed strong relationships with everyone who lived there. As well as working undercover, you were also in regular contact with the LAPD and found yourself getting familiar with the officers of Mid-Wilshire Police Station, especially Tim Bradford who you had formed a close friendship with despite your attempts to keep some distance between the two of you due to the nature of your job.

“Agent l/n. What brings you here?” You turn around at the sound of Tim’s voice, a smile on your face as he approaches.

“Briggs has got me undercover with some drug dealers who deal with Caza Cartel stuff but there’s this new dealer called Odin whose drugs are hitting the street. I’m here trying to find out if you guys have arrested anyone who deals with Odin’s stuff.” You explain, arms folding across your chest as you watch Tim’s reaction, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in concern.

“Should we be worried about Odin?” Tim asks, not missing how you sighed, your eyes flicking to the floor for a brief second before looking back up at him.

“I’m not sure. Mike is undercover with a bigger drug lord, one we’re trying to coax into starting a new deal with Odin. We’re hoping Odin will show himself at a meet with Bello. Other than that we’re trying our best to target your average back alley dealer to see if they can get us a meet.” You say, feeling guilty that you had no other information. It frustrated you to no end that no one could get any information on Odin and what his plans were. All you knew was that Odin’s drugs were dangerous, and people would die if they weren’t careful, especially when the Caza Cartel figured out that there was a new supplier in town.

“Well, I can help you check our records if you want?” Tim offers, watching as you shake your head softly.

“You got in just after I finished checking, none of the guys you arrested have a clue who Odin was nor did they sell Caza stuff. Just run-of-the-mill drug dealers.” You shrug, sighing as you drop your hands to your sides.

“Hey, if I find anything. You’ll be the first to know.” Tim vows, noticing your dejected expression at getting nowhere with your investigation.

“Thank you, Tim. Anything you might find would really help and I’d appreciate it a lot.” You say, your smile making a small return as Tim returns with a smile of his own.

“Tim, Grey wants us to assist on a call.” Lucy gently interrupts, her gaze flicking between you and Tim as you look over at her.

“Got it.” Tim nods at Lucy before looking back over at you.

“Be safe out there. I don’t want the next time I see you to be in a hospital.” You say with a friendly wink as Tim nods with a soft laugh.

“You too. I’ll see you around. Hopefully not in a hospital.” Tim replies, his tone becoming lighter and becoming a joking tone as he nods before you make your way past Tim to leave the station while Tim watches you make your way out.

“You totally have a crush on her,” Lucy says quickly, making Tim’s head snap around to look at her, a shocked expression on his face.

“No, I do not!” Tim insists, his voice getting slightly higher at the accusation, all while Lucy folds her arms across her chest, an eyebrow raising as she studies Tim’s reaction.

“Okay, sure you don’t,” Lucy says, amused by how her training officer had reacted to her words and vowing to keep bugging him until he admits it.

“Anyone home?” You call through the house as soon as you enter, glancing around as you make your way inside.

“Yo!” You hear Jakes call back, following his voice into the kitchen where he is filling a glass with orange juice.

“Anything fun on the agenda today?” You ask, grabbing a glass and filling it with water.

“Just still dealing with my smuggled bird's case. It’s got to be one of the longest cases I’ve worked and I still can’t figure out how I feel about it.” Jakes complains, leaning against the island as he takes a sip from his juice.

“At least you’re saving birds. They didn’t ask to be smuggled.” You say with a light shrug, laughing as Jakes rolls his eyes.

“You’re way too optimistic. You’re like a Johnny 2.0.” Jakes fires back as you laugh.

“Technically speaking I’m older than Johnny so shouldn’t Johnny be y/n 2.0.?” You question, grinning at Jakes as he scoffs, downing his drink before putting his glass in the sink and walking off just as Mike enters the kitchen still in his wetsuit and hair visibly wet from his morning in the sea.

“Where were you? You missed out on some good waves.” Mike comments, opening one of the cupboards and grabbing the bread, taking two slices and putting them in the toaster as you sigh lightly.

“I headed over to Mid-Wilshire to see if they had any recent arrests that could connect us to Odin but they all seemed to be dead ends.” You say, looking down to focus on the glass in your hands.

“Nothing?” Mike queries, grabbing a plate and the butter while waiting for the bread to toast.

“Unfortunately. But Tim said he’d let me know if they arrest someone who may be of interest.” You say, missing how Mike’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of Tim’s name as an amused smile crossed his face.

“Tim’s definitely got a soft spot for you,” Briggs says with a laugh as he enters the kitchen, also clad in a wetsuit and clearly having heard the last thing you said as you roll your eyes.

“No, he doesn’t.” You deflect, feeling your cheeks heat up as you turn away from the two so you can wash your glass and leave it to dry on the rack.

“Something tells me you have a soft spot for him too.” Briggs teases, crossing to you, slinging his arm around your shoulder and jostling you, ignoring your groan at the dampness of his wetsuit against your clothes.

“He’s a nice guy. He’s helped me on more than one occasion of course I’m going to be nice to him.” You huff, shrugging Briggs’ arm off you as he laughs. You had learned to deal with Briggs’ joking, he had quickly become an older brother figure to you when you joined Graceland. Plus he was the senior agent within the house so it wasn’t like you could get rid of him easily anyway.

“All we’re saying is there’s nothing wrong with liking him. I mean he’s a cop anyway so it’s not like you have to lie to him about your career like you’d have to with anyone else.” Mike says, a slight sadness flashing across his face at the thought of Abby and how he had to lie to her repeatedly about his life.

“You guys can believe I have feelings for Tim but you’re wrong. I was trying to see if they had any links to Odin and Tim offered to let me know if he found anything and that’s it. I promise.” You insist, folding your arms across your chest and leaning against the kitchen counter as Mike and Briggs exchange a look.

“Well, you keep believing that. I’m going to get ready, I’m spending the day with Bello, hopefully, he’ll take our bait and want to set up a meet with Odin after what happened with the Caza torpedo.” Mike says after a mouthful of toast, pointing at you as you roll your eyes at his first sentence.

“I can act as a middleman if Bello wants. You know I’ve already got a cover with him so it would be no water off my back.” Briggs says simply, crossing over to Mike, taking the second slice of toast off Mike’s plate and beginning to eat it despite Mike’s protests. Just before you can respond, one of the burner phones in your pocket rings and you pull it out, sighing as you recognise the number, holding up a finger to silence the bickering between Briggs and Mike as you step away to answer the call.

“What’s up?” You say into the phone, moving to stand near the large windows overlooking the beach, watching as the world goes by.

“Yo, y/n, I’ve been running low on stuff lately and the people from Caza are basically refusing to send it to me, saying something like I’ve been playing them or some bullshit. I need to go to Mexico to meet with some guys there and I’d feel much better having you come with me, I mean you’re badass and can hold your own. Can you come?” You hear the familiar voice of Luca ask, rambling as he fights to contain his nerves. You knew Luca had been rising the ranks among drug dealers and that could’ve been part of the reason why Caza asked him to meet face to face. You had a slight bad feeling grow in your stomach as you think over his question, worrying about what might happen to you but after a minute or two of silent debate, you push the bad feeling aside to prioritise the mission.

“I’ll come.” You say finally, hearing the relieved sigh from the other end of the line.

“Can you get over to mine as soon as possible? We need to hit the road as soon as we can.” Luca asks and you nod slightly before remembering he can’t see you.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll get there as quickly as I can.” You say, listening as Luca thanks you quickly before abruptly hanging up, leaving you staring out the window with the phone in hand.

“Is everything okay?” You hear Mike ask, turning to face the two who are watching you worriedly.

“Luca’s got a meeting with Caza in Mexico and he’s asked me to come with him.” You say, not missing how Briggs and Mike exchanged a look between them.

“You better be careful out there. If Caza brings Jangles you get out of there before anything goes wrong.” Briggs says, striding towards you and placing his hands on your shoulders so he could look you in the eyes.

“I know. I’ll be careful.” You say softly, offering Briggs a small smile to reassure him that you’ll be okay.

“I expect regular contact from you every day you’re gone just so we can confirm you’re okay. Does that sound like a plan?” Briggs continues, folding his arms across his chest, letting his protectiveness seep into his voice.

“That’s fine, I can do that. I’ll only have this burner phone with me but I’ll contact you when I get a chance to. Promise.” You swear, watching Briggs carefully as he drops his chin to his chest, sighing softly.

“You better go get ready, huh? We’ll see you off.” Briggs says quietly, looking up at you and smiling softly as you nod. You then head upstairs to your room, dig out some clothes to wear, pack a small bag and make sure you have your gun and ammo as well as conceal your FBI badge and ID deep in your bag just in case you need it at all. When you’re satisfied that you have everything you need, you make your way back down the stairs and see Briggs and Mike waiting with small smiles on their faces.

“Don’t let the house fall apart without me, boys.” You tease, continuing to push your worry aside to appear confident in front of your friends.

“We’ll try our best,” Mike replies, bringing you in for a hug.

“Also I better not miss out on sauce night. I might never recover if I do.” You joke as you pull away from the hug, looking from Mike to Briggs.

“You know Charlie could never hold sauce night without everyone in attendance. Don’t worry.” Briggs says, tugging you into a hug of his own.

“That’s a relief. I guess I’ll see you guys in a week or so.” You say with a small smile, adjusting your bag and leaving Graceland, taking a deep breath as you exit the house before you make your way in the direction of Luca’s house.

After three days, you stopped communicating.

“Have you heard anything from y/n?” Briggs asks early one morning when he notices everyone gathered in the kitchen as Johnny makes pancakes. Briggs feels anxiety clawing at his stomach when he gets nothing but shaking heads and murmuring ‘no’s’ in response.

“I thought she said she’d message you daily?” Mike asks, his attention drawn from watching Johnny to where Briggs is standing.

“She hasn’t messaged me in a couple of days. I thought there’d be a chance she messaged one of you guys instead.” Briggs says worriedly, watching as everyone slowly realises that something may be wrong.

“She’s not said a thing to anyone?” Charlie asks, her jaw clenching when she sees everyone continuing to shake their heads.

“Okay well, we gotta get the cops involved, right?” Johnny asks, shutting the stove off, abandoning the pancakes and glancing from person to person.

“We definitely have to contact the police in Mexico and see if they can find someone fitting her description. I’ll go down there myself and oversee any investigation.” Briggs starts, and everyone begins to scramble into action.

“I’ll head to some of the local stations around here. If y/n ends up stateside without contacting us I’d feel better knowing that the LAPD are on the lookout for her as well.” Charlie says, grabbing her jacket and tugging it on.

“I’ll do the same. We can cover more stations that way.” Paige says, rushing to grab all her belongings so she can head out.

“I’ll go to the Bureau and report this. I’ll let them know what we’re all doing.” Mike says as he gestures for Johnny to follow him.

“Jakes, do you think you could get ICE involved? Keep an eye on people coming out of the border, especially if there’s someone who matches Luca’s description.” Briggs asks, pointing at Jakes who nods quickly, grabs his phone, and dials a number on his phone before getting up and moving away for some quiet. After everyone figures out what they’re going to do, they all rush out of Graceland, making their separate ways to start searches for you.

Charlie was the one to enter Mid-Wilshire, immediately making a beeline for Grey’s office, her urgency catching the attention of Tim and Lucy as they stood near Angela’s desk, listening to her explain the details of a case she had been working on.

“Agent DeMarco, can I help you?” Grey asks as Charlie enters the office, glancing up from his computer as she enters.

“One of our agents has gone missing. She went to Mexico undercover just over a week ago and we haven’t received any communication from her in a few days.” Charlie starts, explaining the situation as Grey raises an eyebrow.

“Respectfully Agent DeMarco, if someone has gone missing in Mexico, surely you should be contacting the Mexican police? We don’t have jurisdiction in other countries.” Grey asks, leaning back in his chair as Charlie sighs, crossing her arms.

“Briggs is already covering that front. We just want to make as many stations in LA aware. If y/n somehow ends up stateside and for some reason has no way to contact any of us at Graceland, I’d feel better knowing the LAPD are keeping an eye out for her.” Charlie explains further, watching as Grey nods slowly.

“I see. Well, we can get an APB out for her, but again since she went missing in Mexico we can only cover LA. But we will do what we can.” Grey says as Charlie nods.

“We’ll take any help we can get. We’re just worried about her.” She admits, fiddling with her fingers as a way to channel her anxiety. After giving Grey a description of you as well as the information she knew about Luca just in case he reappeared without you, Charlie exits Grey’s office, almost walking straight into Tim who had begun to mingle near the office.

“Agent DeMarco, is everything okay?” Tim asks, his hands resting on his gun belt as he watches Charlie shake her head.

“y/n is missing,” Charlie says, noticing how quickly Tim tensed up, his mouth dropping open slightly in shock as he tried to figure out a way to respond.

“You’re sure she’s missing?” Tim asks quickly, stammering and falling over his words, hoping that it was nothing more than a cruel prank being played on him.

“Positive. She promised Briggs that she’d be in contact daily and she hasn’t contacted any of us for a couple of days now.” Charlie says, explaining to Tim what she had just told Grey moments ago.

“Is there anything we can do? There has to be something, right?” Tim asks desperately watching for any kind of response from Charlie who just shrugs.

“There’s not much that can be done from here. The LAPD doesn’t have any kind of jurisdiction outside of LA but Briggs is in Mexico trying to start some sort of investigation but we’re just asking the LAPD to keep an eye out for her in case she somehow ends up back in LA without any of us knowing.” Charlie says simply, missing how Tim gritted his teeth, bowing his head in frustration.

“If you need any help. I’m more than willing to help.” Tim offers, looking back up at Charlie who offers Tim a soft smile.

“Thank you,” Charlie says softly, her smile encouraging Tim to give her a smile of his own, albeit forced. Charlie then carefully dismisses herself, making her way out of Mid-Wilshire station to go to the next station, leaving Tim standing in the middle of the room alone.

“Tim, what’s going on?” Lucy asks, approaching Tim after having watched his and Charlie’s interaction from afar.

“y/n’s missing.” Is all Tim can bring himself to say, unable to remove his gaze from the door Charlie had just left through.

“What? How do they know? Can we help at all?” Lucy asks, worry crossing her face as Tim finally turns to face her, shaking his head solemnly.

“There’s not much we can do. She went missing in Mexico. We’ve only been told to just keep an eye out for her in case she somehow ends up stateside without anyone in Graceland knowing.” Tim says, watching as Lucy fights back a frown.

“There has to be something, right? I mean you went to Guatemala to save Angela.” Lucy says, trying to come up with something that they could do to help you.

“That was to save one of our own and even then it was hard to convince Grey to let us go along with that plan. We won’t be able to get involved unless the Feds want us involved.” Tim says with a shake of his head, knowing just how impossible it would be to try and get involved. Despite that, he began to think, a single idea coming to mind before suddenly walking off, leaving Lucy confused and standing alone.

At a gas station, Briggs was filling his Bronco up with gas when his phone began to ring, and he quickly dug in his pocket, his heart pounding as he pulled the phone out of his pocket, hoping you were on the other end of the phone when he didn’t recognise the number.

“Hello?” Briggs asks, unusually anxious as he awaits an answer from the other end.

“Agent Briggs, it’s Officer Tim Bradford.” Briggs couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of disappointment at the voice. He had no ill feelings towards Tim, he just wished it had been you calling, telling him you were okay.

“Officer Bradford, what can I do for you?” Briggs asks, leaning against his Bronco as he stares up at the sky from behind his sunglasses. He found it unusually cruel for the day to be so sunny and cheerful when you were missing.

“I heard about y/n being missing and I want to help,” Tim says, pacing back and forth anxiously as he talks. He denied it to anyone who brought it up but he did harbour feelings for you, and you being missing and potentially hurt made his heart hurt.

“Respectfully, this isn’t really an LAPD matter. We only informed you guys just in case she ends up stateside.” Briggs starts, trying to let Tim down gently.

“I don’t care. I want to do what I can to help y/n.” Tim demands, ceasing in his pacing as his voice raises slightly, causing Briggs to raise his eyebrows slightly in impressed shock. He knew Tim cared for you, but now he was getting to see the protectiveness Tim had for you, a side neither man knew he harboured for you.

“Look man, I don’t know what your boss will say about it but if you really want to help me… I won’t stop you. I’m just filling my car up for the journey, you can meet me here and we can head to Mexico together.” Briggs finally says, respecting Tim’s drive to help and deciding that ultimately it would be safer if he and Tim teamed up as opposed to working separately.

“Where are you? I’ll swing by as soon as I can.” Tim asks, already prepping a lie about a family emergency as Briggs lets him know which gas station he is at. With Briggs’ location shared, Tim hung up the phone, ready to leave the station.

It took Tim about half an hour to get to the gas station Briggs was at after leaving the station. He had to make a quick pit stop home to pack a bag and call Genny to ask if she could look after Kojo while he was gone, letting her know where his spare key was so she could swing by whenever she could to collect him. As soon as Tim was confident he was sorted, he walked to the gas station, quickly recognising Briggs who gestured him over.

“Thanks for letting me tag along. I just feel so useless sitting by and doing nothing.” Tim thanks Briggs as they shake hands.

“Glad to see you care about y/n. But I do have to lay down some ground rules. I’m in charge here. What I say goes no matter what. I also trust you can look after yourself. Technically speaking you’re not supposed to be here and I don’t want you getting hurt or killed on my watch.” Briggs says as the two make their way towards his car.

“Of course, whatever you say goes,” Tim says with a nod, getting into the passenger seat while Briggs gets behind the wheel and begins the journey to Mexico.

The journey to Mexico was long, and Briggs and Tim weren’t quite sure how to hold a conversation together other than talking about how to try and find you. By the time they had made it to Mexico, they’d managed to set a game plan on how they’d go about starting the investigation when they made it to the police station nearest to where you had been. Upon arriving at the police station, both Briggs and Tim exit the vehicle making their way into the building and approaching the front desk. Briggs strikes up a conversation in Spanish with the officer working at the front desk while Tim stands back, listening carefully to what is being said. When the officer finds out that they’ve come from LA, he begins to talk in English, figuring it would be easier.

“So, you said you had a missing agent, huh?” The officer asks after introducing himself as Miguel as he leads the two men through the station.

“That’s correct, she told me she was in the area for a meeting with a Caza member and she’s failed to get into contact with us for a couple of days,” Briggs confirms, nodding as they reach a desk.

“I see. Well, I’ll get some men to call around local coroners offices and hospitals, so if you could give me a description and a name that would be helpful.” Miguel then says, glancing at Briggs who nods, giving him a full description of you and your name while Tim’s jaw tightens, eyes squeezing shut as he envisions you hurt or dead somewhere. Once Briggs gives out all the needed information, Miguel excuses himself to make some calls.

“We should start searching the area, right?” Tim asks the moment the two of them are left alone.

“We probably shouldn’t do anything without an okay from the Federales,” Briggs says, turning to look at Tim who watches Briggs, confused.

“She could be out there. Hurt. Alone. Afraid. And you’re just going to wait?” Tim asks incredulously staring at Briggs, shocked.

“y/n is tougher than you think. If she’s out there she’ll be able to handle herself. You agreed that you’d listen to everything I say and I’m saying we wait until the Federales say we can, and they’d be able to help us since they have more knowledge of the area.” Briggs says firmly, turning to face Tim properly. Both men stand face to face, Tim’s jaw clenching further as he glares at Briggs. Now that they were in Mexico, Tim’s agreement to listen to Briggs’ words went out the window. Tim was too worried about you and wanted nothing more than to just get out onto the streets and look for you. He was frustrated that Briggs was willing to break the rules enough to let him tag along but then the moment they could do any investigation he suddenly wanted to wait. Deep down, Tim knew Briggs was being rational, and that it would be best for them to get information from the Federales about where they could begin to look, but that rational thought was overtaken by Tim’s burning drive to find you and get you back to LA safe.

After some painful minutes of pacing and waiting for anyone to help, Miguel returned with his phone in hand.

“There is no one matching her description or name in any hospitals or morgues.” He informs the two, watching as Tim lets out a slight sigh, relieved to hear that you weren’t dead in a morgue anywhere. But you were still missing.

“Okay, so what’s our next play? We gotta get out on the streets and look for her, right?” Tim asks, looking between Briggs and Miguel, eyes searching desperately for an answer.

“That would be the next course of action, yes. You said she came for a meeting with Caza, correct?” Miguel asks, turning to Briggs who nods quickly to confirm.

“Yeah, someone she was undercover with was invited for a meeting with Caza. I don’t think either of them knew what they were getting into but if Jangles was involved…” Briggs trails off, eyes squeezing shut as he envisions what could’ve happened to you if Jangles was involved.

“Jangles? Who’s Jangles?” Tim asks worriedly, noticing the increased tension in the room.

“We call him ���El Hombre Llave’ here.” Miguel says, looking over at Tim who only grows more confused.

“The Key Man?” Tim translates the name easily, but still not fully understanding the significance of the name.

“Named as such because he’s known for carrying around the keys of his victims. Us Feds call him Jangles on account of the sound of all those keys jangling. He’s Caza’s attack dog, if there’s someone they don’t like, don’t trust. There’s a high chance Jangles will come after them.” Briggs explains further, noticing how Tim grew more worried at what was said.

“You’re telling me that there’s potentially a killer out there after y/n? And I’m only finding this out now?” Tim asks, dumbfounded as he watches the two men carefully.

“Look, man, you’re not FBI so you didn’t know about Jangles and I was, and still am, hoping he wasn’t involved. For y/n’s sake more than anything.” Briggs explains, holding his hands up to try and keep the peace between the two of them.

“So, you were just planning on not telling me about the fact that this cartel has a guy they send to do their dirty work?” Tim asks, his voice raising as he addresses Briggs, completely thrown by the fact that Briggs was willing to keep such a vital piece of information from him when it would’ve been useful to know earlier, especially when a person of interest was dubbed as an ‘attack dog’ for the cartel you were investigating.

“Do I need to remind you of the rules we established? I’m in charge and I don’t have to tell you shit.” Briggs says firmly, stepping closer to Tim, the two men standing in a face-off.

“Whoa, please calm down you two. We need to focus on finding your agent.” Miguel says quickly, gaining the attention of both men as they back down, although still continuing to glare at each other.

“You’re right. Is there anywhere we can start our search?”

After three days of searching, Briggs and Tim found no clues to your whereabouts and the Federales began to draw the line, saying that the search efforts may be in vain. Neither man wanted to give up but they also knew they couldn’t keep wasting resources and police time. After the three days had passed, the two men were forced to return to LA, empty-handed and dejected. When Briggs made it back to Graceland, he saw the hopeful expressions that were quickly shot down by the shake of his head. Despite the failed search in Mexico, Tim continued to keep an eye out for you on his patrols, hoping you’d miraculously turn up.

Four days after Briggs and Tim returned to LA. You turned up at Graceland.

You stumbled into the house, pale, clammy, and shivering, but you were home. You made an immediate beeline for the kitchen, your throat screaming for water. You could barely focus on what was around you as you fumbled for a glass, knocking some things over as you tried to turn the water on to fill your glass. Once the glass was half filled with water, you turned the tap off, took a quick refreshing sip of water and made your way to the couch, placing the glass down before collapsing on the couch, letting out the smallest sighs of relief at the familiar comfort of the cushions. Just after your eyes slipped closed, you heard the familiar sounds of someone coming down the stairs, and whoever it was, wasn’t doing the best job at attempting to be stealthy. Your eyes peeled open as you looked over at your shoulder, smiling weakly when you locked eyes with Johnny who paused on the stairs as he stared at you, gun in hand.

“You know there’s no guns downstairs Johnny.” You laugh with a wince as a spark of pain shoots through you.

“y/n? Holy shit.” Johnny says, immediately putting his gun down and rushing over to you.

“Hey Johnny.” You say weakly as Johnny sits on the couch alongside you, pulling you into his arms for a hug.

“Where the hell have you been, girl?” Johnny asks, cradling your head against his chest, letting out the smallest sigh of relief that you’re alive.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m home now.” You whisper, clinging to Johnny, wincing slightly as you adjust yourself.

“We gotta get you to a hospital.” Johnny suddenly says, pulling away as you shake your head, ignoring the lightheadedness that comes with it.

“No. No, I’m fine. No hospitals Johnny. Please.” You plead quietly, watching Johnny carefully as he falls silent, debating what he should do before he sighs softly and nods.

“Okay. No hospitals.” He concedes, looking at you as you smile.

“Thank you. I just need a shower and a nap I’m sure I’ll be fine in no time.” You say, laughing lightly as you gesture at yourself to lightly mock your appearance.

“I wasn’t going to say anything but..” Johnny says cheekily, laughing as you roll your eyes, bracing your hands either side of yourself and easing yourself up onto your feet, wincing once more at the spark of pain that flies through you.

“Hey, I got you,” Johnny says quickly, leaping to his feet, wrapping one of your arms around his middle and helping you up the stairs, guiding you carefully up to your room so he could help you grab some clean clothes and a towel before helping you to the bathroom.

“I got it from here, Johnny. Thank you.” You say gratefully as you stop outside the door to the bathroom.

“If you need me just shout. I’m going to contact the others and let them know you’re home.” Johnny says, carefully helping you unwind your arm from around him, letting you go with a smile. When you enter the bathroom and lock the door you instantly turn the shower on, letting it warm up while you strip down, catching sight of your battered and bruised body, looking at each injury in turn until your eyes land on the bruises on the inside of your arm, biting back tears when you look at them. You spend a few minutes staring at the bruises before you bring yourself back to reality and get into the shower. You relax as the hot water rushes over you, the water slowly dyeing pink as you scrub the blood, both dried and wet off your body. You scrub at every inch of you, a desperate attempt to cleanse yourself of what you had been through over the last few days. After a long shower, you get into your sweatpants and loose shirt, heading to your room to throw your stuff into your laundry basket before grabbing a hoodie to hide your injuries even more. Once you were changed you once more caught sight of yourself in the mirror and you couldn’t help but wince slightly at how pale and clammy you looked. All you could do was hope you’d be able to play it up to what you had been through. Shaking your head lightly with a sigh, you head downstairs where Johnny is in the kitchen cooking.

“Cooking are we?” You ask teasingly, leaning against the wall by the stairs to the kitchen as a wave of nausea hits you.

“You don’t look like you’ve eaten much recently. Plus, I know you’ve been missing my cooking.” Johnny says, looking over at you and shooting you a quick wink, his smile faltering slightly when he sees how rough you look.

“Hey, why don’t you relax on the couch? The others should be back soon.” Johnny says, his hand hovering over the handle of the pan as he debates abandoning the food to help you over to the couch.

“I might do that, yeah.” You mumble, easing yourself away from the wall and making your way over to the couch, lying across it, shoving a cushion under your head and lying an arm across your eyes to shield them from the bright sunlight coming from the large windows. You squeeze your eyes shut in another attempt to close the overwhelming light out. After about ten minutes of lying on your back, listening to Johnny humming to himself as he cooks, you hear the front door fly open.

“Is she here?” You hear Briggs say, calling through the house, making your eyes peel open as you prop yourself up on your elbows smiling weakly over at Briggs.

“Over here.” You call over, your voice weak but Briggs hears you, rushing over and pulling you into a tight hug.

“Didn’t realise you’d missed me that much.” You then say, attempting to keep your voice light as Briggs hugs you tighter, making you wince silently but not wanting to break the embrace.

“You’re family y/n, of course, I missed you,” Briggs says softly, kissing the top of your head affectionately.

“I missed you guys too.” You reply, listening to Briggs’ rapid heartbeat begin to slow as he holds you close.

“You look like shit, is everything okay?” Briggs asks worriedly, pulling away slightly to take in your rough appearance as you laugh weakly.

“You really know the way to a woman’s heart, Briggs.” You joke as you hear the door open once more, this time looking over to see Charlie and Mike entering the house, seeing you and Briggs and rushing over.

“Hey, Chuck.” You mumble, smoothly transferring yourself from Briggs’ embrace to Charlie’s who holds you close, running a hand through your hair.

“What happened to you, Baby?” Charlie asks, her maternal instincts kicking in as she cradles you, shifting her hand from your hair to your chin, cupping it softly so she can look you in the eye.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” You say quietly, trying to reassure her that you are okay, smiling softly at her as Mike eases himself down on the couch.

“Mikey, you’re not missing out on this, " you say, gesturing him closer as Charlie carefully releases you from her embrace, swapping places with Mike so he can give you a hug.

“It’s so good to have you back,” Mike says softly, hugging you carefully as you smile, grateful to be back with the people you love.

“I bet I’ve missed out on sauce night, huh?” You ask, glancing between everyone, pulling away from Mike slightly but staying close enough that his arm stayed wrapped around you.

“Never. We could never hold sauce night without you.” Charlie says reassuringly, reaching across to rub a gentle hand up and down your arm, making you sigh with a soft laugh.

“You know, we’re not the only ones who missed you,” Mike says with an amused smile, glancing around at everyone before focusing on you.

“Was it someone outside the house?” You ask quietly, watching everyone’s reactions carefully, your heart rate begins to pick up as you start to hope who it was.

“That Tim Bradford of yours wouldn’t stop pestering us. He damn near demanded I brought him to Mexico with me when we first figured out you’d gone missing. That man’s got it bad for you.” Briggs explains with a laugh, watching as your eyebrows furrow slightly, looking up at him.

“Please tell me you didn’t actually let Tim come to Mexico with you.” You ask, worried about what could’ve possibly happened to Tim. Before Briggs could reply, you heard the door open.

“Levi, you better not be hogging y/n all to yourself.” You hear Jakes call, rushing into your line of sight as Mike rolls his eyes, gently letting you wiggle free from his embrace so you can lean forward and give Jakes a hug as you think about how you need to visit Tim soon to let him know you were okay.

“Paige said she was too deep into her case at the moment to come home right now but you know she’ll be here the moment she’s able to,” Johnny says, entering the living room with a plate of food and cutlery, handing it to you with a gentle smile.

“Somehow I don’t doubt it.” You reply, smiling as you take the plate, leaning back against the couch cushions so you can eat. You only manage a couple of mouthfuls of food before you begin to feel nauseous. You place the plate down with a trembling hand and get up from the couch.

“Sorry Johnny, the food is lovely I just don’t have as much appetite as I thought. I might go for a nap, actually.” You say apologetically, dismissing yourself and heading up the stairs, trying to contain each wince that flashes across your face each step you take.

When you make it to your room, you collapse on your bed, curling up as you shiver. All you could think about was what the cartel had left you, how much you regretted using it so quickly, and how you wanted more. Even as you tried to nap it was all you could think about as you tossed and turned. As your brain screams at you, unable to rest for even a second, you eventually push the covers back, crossing to your desk and digging through the drawers desperately to try to find one of the many burner phones you had stashed away. When you finally found one, you quickly discovered that it had run out of battery making you slam your hand on your desk angrily with a frustrated grunt before you dug around in your drawers further, managing to find a charger and shakily rushing to the nearest outlet, your hands barely able to stay still long enough to plug into the port. As soon as the phone was charging, you sat on the edge of your bed, knee bouncing erratically as you waited for the phone to power on.

The second the phone began to power on, you fumbled through the contacts, searching for the right number before you hurriedly typed out a message, your shaking fingers causing you to make multiple typos, your muddled mind barely processing any of it as you hit send, desperation clinging to every fibre of your body.

Mere seconds after you hit send, you hear footsteps approaching your room and you hurriedly shove the phone out of eyesight, diving under the cover just as the door to your room opens and the person on the other side knocks lightly. You feigned waking up as you glanced over your shoulder to see Paige entering carefully.

“y/n, you’re okay!” Paige says, relief crossing her features as she locks eyes with you.

“That I am.” You say with a small smile, lowering yourself back down to the pillow and curling up again, hoping Paige will get the hint.

“What happened to you? Where were you?” Paige then asks, her expression worried as she regards you.

“I’m not quite ready to talk about it yet, Paige. I’m exhausted and just want to rest. I promise I’ll come down when I feel up to it.” You mumble, burying your face further into the pillow.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just glad you’re home.” Paige says quickly and apologetically, beginning to close the door, whispering a quick apology before closing the door behind her, leaving you alone once more.

The second the door closed, your phone buzzed lightly, sending you scrambling out from under the covers, hand flailing for the phone as you pulled it closer to you. Your eyes hurriedly scan the screen, desperately focusing on the message, hoping you were getting the response you wanted. When you had processed the message, you let out a small sigh of relief, your body relaxing properly for what felt like the first time since you walked back through the doors of Graceland. All you had to do now was bide your time and then you’d get what you’ve been desperately craving, knowing you had to make sure that no one else found out about it.

A few days after you returned from Mexico, you finally got the courage to go and visit Tim to let him know you were okay. It was nerve-wracking to be stepping back into Mid-Wilshire, especially when you weren’t back on duty yet. You made your way to the front desk, awkwardly standing in front of it for a moment until you got the attention of the officer working there.

“Can I help you?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, eyes flicking from you to the paperwork in front of him, barely paying you much attention.

“I was just wondering if Officer Bradford was in?” You ask, an unusual sheepishness to your voice as you speak, fidgeting with your fingers and fighting the urge to shuffle.

“Why do you need to see him?” The officer asks with a sigh, looking bored and ready to send you away.

“I’m a friend.” You say, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets, your thumb brushing alongside your badge. You knew you could just use your badge, say it was an FBI matter but you also knew that you couldn’t risk putting people on high alert just so you could see Tim. You were also pretty sure that even with your badge the officer on the other side of the desk wouldn’t believe you with how rough you looked. Your split lip was still healing, you were pale and shaking, and you had obvious bags under your eyes. You wouldn’t have been surprised if the officer began to attempt to arrest you with your appearance the way it was.

“A friend, huh? Look, lady, I don’t know who you’re trying to fool here but if you think I’m supposed to believe that you are a friend of Tim Bradford’s, you’ve got another thing coming.” The officer says, rolling his eyes as he focuses on the paperwork before him, and as he talks, your gaze begins to wander, hoping by some miracle you’d be able to talk yourself out of this situation. Just as all hope seems lost, Tim walks in, ready to address someone but halting in his tracks completely when he notices you, jaw dropping open as he stares.

“Hey, Tim.” You say softly, not really sure of what to say to him.

“y/n? What? How did you? Where did you? Are you really back?” Tim stammers, unable to form a proper sentence as he refuses to remove his gaze from you.

“I’m here, Tim.” You say as Tim begins to take small, tentative steps towards you, stopping just in front of you as he regards you softly.

“Can I…?” Tim asks, unable to finish his sentence but despite that, you knew what he was asking for so you stepped closer, winding your arms around his middle and hugging him lightly, feeling his arms wrap around you, pulling you a little closer.

“I would’ve come by sooner but the Bureau wanted to ask me some questions first and quite frankly I’ve been feeling like shit.” You say quietly, relishing the feeling of how Tim’s arms wound around you so perfectly. Tim held you in a way that made you feel protected and made you believe that everything would be okay.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” Tim confesses quietly, his voice soft as he speaks, his lips brushing up against the shell of your ear.

“I’m sorry for worrying you. I promise I didn’t do it on purpose.” You make a weak attempt at a joke as Tim holds you a little tighter, somehow attuned to your unhealed injuries and not wishing to hurt you further.

“I know you didn’t. But it didn’t make me worry any less.” Tim says, unafraid to admit his worry to you.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat, shifting slightly so you can look at Tim properly as he shakes his head lightly.

“Don’t apologise. It wasn’t your fault. Hey, look I was just about to go on lunch, come with me. We can catch up and lunch will be on me.” Tim says, pulling away slightly, his hands moving up to gently hold you by the shoulders as he watches you softly.

“Tim I don’t want to impose…” you say nervously, watching as Tim shakes his head once more.

“I want you to join me. I’ve missed you.” Tim insists, his unusually soft eyes pleading with you as you silently consider his offer before sighing lightly, your head bowing.

“Okay. I’ll come.” You say as you look back up at Tim who smiles, leading you out of the station and taking you to a small food truck nearby, letting you sit at one of the tables while he orders the food for the both of you. It doesn’t take Tim long to return to the table, placing the two meals down on the table as you smile and thank him before digging in.

“What do you think of the food?” Tim asks after a few minutes of silent eating.

“It’s good. It’s no Hector’s but it’s pretty good regardless.” You admit with a nod, making Tim’s eyebrows furrow slightly.

“Hector’s? I don’t think I’ve heard of that.” Tim muses, stabbing at his food with the small plastic fork in his hand as your jaw drops open in shock.

“You don’t know Hector’s Tacos? It’s just the best taco truck in LA. Everyone at Graceland loves it. I’ll have to take you there someday. You haven’t truly lived until you’ve tried Hector’s Tacos.” You say with a laugh, watching as Tim nods with a chuckle.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Tim says jokingly, pointing at you as you laugh, rolling your eyes.

You spend about twenty minutes with Tim, falling back into your natural rhythm and you find yourself almost distracted from the nagging desperation in the back of your head until you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You dug it out of your jacket and looked down at the screen, expecting it to be a text from someone from Graceland but instead, you saw a number you recognised all too quickly. You sat up a little straighter, your focus now entirely on the screen as you hurriedly type a response, getting to your feet.

“I’m so sorry, Tim. I have to go. This was amazing and we have to do it again someday.” You say, barely looking up at Tim who didn’t even have a chance to say anything before you darted off, leaving Tim alone and confused.

When most of the agents made their way back to Graceland after a long day at work, they were all expecting to find you somewhere within the house but instead, the house was quiet, with no sign of you anywhere.

“Yo, has anyone seen y/n?” Briggs asks as he comes downstairs after conducting a search for you upstairs.

“Nah, man. Last I heard she was going to try and visit Tim. Maybe things went so well they’ve wound up at his place.” Johnny says, ignoring the groans of his housemates as he laughs.

“As much as I’d love for those two to grow up and confess their feelings for each other I doubt that’s the case. y/n’s been through a lot recently, I can’t imagine that she’d want to confess her feelings now of all times and I’d like to think that Tim is enough of a gentleman not to do anything like that while she’s recovering.” Charlie says, lightly slapping Johnny on the back of the head as she talks.

“I agree. Maybe they’re just catching up? Talking to Tim is probably the best way for her to just get away from everything so I can’t blame her for wanting a few hours out of the house.” Paige says, defending you from the accusations even when you’re not around to hear her.

“She makes a good point. I’d want a few hours away from us too. Especially when she can’t get involved with work right now.” Jakes says with a shrug, taking a sip from his glass of freshly poured orange juice.

“Maybe…” Briggs mutters to himself, turning away from the others and crossing to the window so he could overlook the beach. The waves were big, a perfect day for surfing which is what Briggs would’ve been tempted to do had he not been concerned about you. He had been keeping close tabs on you since you got back to Graceland and he wasn’t glad to be recognising the signs you were displaying.

When you didn’t come back to the house until the next day, most of the team had become convinced that you were just spending the night with Tim but Briggs was still convinced that his hypothesis was correct despite what the others thought but he wasn’t prepared to jump to conclusions just yet. He wanted to be certain that he was in fact right before he tried to bring the topic up with you.

Over the next few days, Briggs did his best to keep close tabs on you. He’d question you when he found you attempting to sneak out of Graceland late at night after everyone else had gone to bed. You’d always use the same excuse every time you were caught, claiming you just wanted to clear your head and go for a late-night walk along the beach. After hearing the same excuse five times in a row, Briggs knew he had to follow you to get to the bottom of what was going on with you. Thankfully, on the night Briggs had chosen to follow you, you were so hyper-focused on where you were going that you had neglected to remember any of your FBI training when it came to making sure you weren’t being tailed. Briggs followed you through the back alleys and various neighbourhoods until he stopped, watching you enter a run-down house, knocking on the door and being let in by the guy on the other side of the door.

Briggs spent the whole night sitting on a curb, waiting for you to come out of the house, his leg bouncing anxiously as he worries about what condition you’ll be in when you come out. As the sun begins to rise, you emerge from the building. You look rough, like you’d been through the wringer.

“y/n!” Briggs called over to you, getting up from where he’d been sitting and crossing to you. You’d barely had time to process that he was there and that by the time he crossed to you, any hope of running away was gone.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, shocked as Briggs winds a protective arm around you, escorting you away from the building.

“I’m worried about you. What’s going on with you?” Briggs asks worriedly, leading you along streets you didn’t recognise, his walk hurried as he ushers you along.

“Nothing’s going on with me. What are you talking about?” You ask, trying to convince Briggs that he was reading into everything too much.

“Answer me this, what were you doing all night? It’s not like you to sneak off in the middle of the night and go somewhere as dodgy as this.” Briggs says, abruptly stopping in his tracks, turning to face you, an action you mirror as he moves to hold you by the shoulders to keep you in place.

“I was just… visiting a friend?” You attempt weakly, your shoulders slumping when Briggs shakes his head with a sigh.

“I thought being an undercover agent would make you a better liar. Look y/n/n, I’m worried about you. I have my suspicions about what’s going on with you. I’m hoping I’m wrong so I’m going to give you this one chance to prove to me that I’m wrong and you’re doing something else.” Briggs says, his voice was soft and concerned. A vulnerability you rarely see from him displayed all over his face as he talks.

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” You ask nervously, tears beginning to well in your eyes as you worry about what Briggs could accuse you of. You were especially terrified that if he had sussed you out, he was going to go running to the Bureau and report you, which would obviously lead to you losing your job.

“I think you’ve been sneaking out to go get yourself high,” Briggs says, his voice unexpectedly soft as he looks you in the eye. At Briggs’ gentle tone and lack of judgement, the built-up tears begin to spill down your cheeks.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” You whimper, tears sliding down your cheeks as your teeth clamp down on your lower lip to stop it from trembling violently.

“I won’t tell a soul. But I can’t let you keep going like this. This is dangerous for you and the house. I’m going to help you but I need you to trust me. Can you do that for me?” Briggs says, his voice never straying from the soft tone he had been using to talk to you as if he was talking to a scared child. In response to his question, you nod, more tears dribbling down your cheeks as Briggs smiles gently.

“I trust you.” You whisper, making Briggs nod slightly.

“Okay, let’s go. I’ve got someplace private we can talk.” Briggs then says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders again so he could lead you to where he knew you’d get some privacy.

Briggs takes you to a small apartment building, it was run down and clearly not maintained unlike the luxury you were used to in Graceland but you weren’t one to complain, especially when Briggs was helping you in your time of need. Upon entering the apartment, Briggs eases you down on the bed before sitting alongside you, angling himself so he can face you.

“I don’t want to push you but I think now is as good a time as any to explain what happened to you and what’s got you hooked on drugs,” Briggs says, watching as you nod lightly, lifting your hand to wipe away the fallen tears with shaking hands.

“The meet in Mexico was a setup. They… they killed Luca right in front of me. I know he was a drug dealer but he wasn’t a bad guy. He didn’t deserve to go out like that. I thought I was going to be next the moment I registered that they’d killed him but instead they just took me somewhere. I woke up tied to a chair and then…”

“Jangles walked in.” Briggs finishes your sentence when you become too overwhelmed to speak. Upon realising what Briggs had said, your eyes widen slightly and you stare at him with glassy eyes.

“How did you…?” You question, eyes fixed on Briggs as you wonder about how he could’ve possibly known that Jangles was involved in the whole thing.

“Because they did the same to me years ago,” Briggs admits, finding himself confessing something that no one else in the house, other than Mike, was aware of.

“What?” You ask quietly, questioning yourself on whether you heard him correctly.

“Before Graceland, there was another safe house for Feds, I lived there and my training officer was deep undercover with Caza, I’m talking about getting invited to Sunday dinners and the mother was calling him mijo. I stupidly decided to go to Mexico on an unauthorised mission and got myself caught by Caza. They must’ve known that I was FBI. They periodically got me high to the point of addiction and then left me for long enough that I was begging for more, but they never asked me anything. Once they got me hooked on heroin they had no more use for me, they just let me go but not without leaving me a ‘goodbye high’. It was definitely their way to get at the Bureau and clearly it got to their head if they’ve done something similar to you. You didn’t give anything away, did you?” Briggs explains, reliving the things he had been through in recent years and how much it hurt to give up someone he cared for, especially just because they got him hooked on heroin. In response to Briggs’ question, you shake your head.

“No. They didn’t ask me a single thing. They just came in, shot me up and then left. I think deep down they knew I was an agent so I’m shocked they didn’t kill me.” You confess quietly, more tears continuing to fall down your cheeks as you talk.

“It was another chance for them to stick it to the Bureau. They seem to find some sick pleasure in turning agents into addicts. They know that if word gets out about it, any and all cases we’ve ever worked would be reopened for investigation.” Briggs says, his voice reassuring as he wraps an arm around you and tugging you gently into his side.

“I thought I could beat it alone. Every time I left I told myself that it would be the last time, that I could stop whenever I wanted but every time I’d try I’d give in so quickly.” You admit tearily, leaning your head against Briggs’ shoulder as he rubs a reassuring hand up and down your arm.

“I know. It’s really easy to convince yourself that it’s that easy to just up and quit whenever you’re ready but it’s really not. And the fact you’ve opened up to me and you’re willing to let me help you is a huge step.” Briggs says, keeping his voice reassuring and gentle as he holds you a little closer, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I can’t go to a rehab. That would raise too many questions with the Bureau and the others. So, are there any other options?” You ask quietly, eyes flicking around the room. At your words, Briggs nods with a slight hum in agreement.

“You’re not wrong. I have an idea but it won’t be pretty. It will require you to trust me fully. I know you’ve already said you trust me but I want to make sure I have one hundred percent of your trust.” Briggs says as you lift your head off his shoulder so you can look each other in the eye.

“You have one hundred percent of my trust, Briggs.” You promise, and your vulnerable expression makes it clear to Briggs that you trust him wholeheartedly.

“Okay, before we do anything. We’re going to make a quick run to the store, we’re going to be here for a few days so let’s stock up.” Briggs says, getting to his feet as you follow, slightly confused as to where Briggs was going with this. You follow Briggs wordlessly to the nearest store, watching as he piles various ready meals, snacks, and water into a basket before he heads over to the cashier to buy the food. After purchasing the drinks and the food, Briggs takes you back to the small apartment and lets you sit down on the bed once more while he unpacks the food and drinks.

“Briggs, what is this place?” You ask curiously, wondering why you had never learnt about this place sooner.

“It’s just a safe house. It’s only really been for emergencies if I need a place to lie low I come here. I’ve never told you guys about this place because if something happened and I was hiding out here I wouldn’t want to put that pressure to lie on you guys.” Briggs explains, briefly pausing his actions as he watches you, studying how you nodded shakily, exhaling strongly.

“That makes sense.” You mumble, jaw clenching as your gaze flicks to the floor.

“You feeling okay?” Briggs asks, having a feeling he was recognising the signs but not wanting to jump to conclusions just yet.

“Just feeling off, maybe slightly nauseous?” You say, looking back up at Briggs who watches you sympathetically.

“Okay. But that’s to be expected, right? This detox is going to be tough. You’re going to hate me, call me every name under the sun. You’re going to be in so much pain but I know you can do it. And I’ll be here with you the whole way through. Promise.” Briggs says, shoving the last of the shopping away before crossing to you, sitting down alongside you and smiling reassuringly.

“Can you walk me through how this detox is going to work?” You ask and Briggs could sense the nervousness and fear rolling off you in waves. One look at your nervous expression and Briggs wanted to abandon the whole thing and take you back to Graceland but he knew he had to persevere, for your benefit above everything else.

“It sounds like some kind of horror movie but the only thing I can really do here is strap you to the bed and let you ride out the wave. I know it sounds horrible but I know you’re much stronger than you look and that if you were desperate, which you most likely will be, you’ll overpower me and be gone in seconds if I give you the chance.” Briggs explains, getting up from the bed and crossing to one of the drawers nearby to grab a spare pair of handcuffs he had for emergencies. At Briggs’ words, you swallow nervously. You knew it was for your own good, it would help you get through the roughest part of overcoming your addiction and you were comforted by the thought that Briggs would be with you the whole time. You knew he’d look after you and help you no matter what happened.

“If that’s the best plan. Then I’ll do it.” You say, nodding slightly as you look up at Briggs who offers you a supportive smile as he reaches out to rest a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly in reassurance.

“Alright, sounds like we gotta get this show on the road then, huh?” Briggs says in an attempt to somewhat lighten the mood. Finally, after some deep breaths, you give Briggs the nod he needs to confirm that you are ready and you lie back on the bed, waiting patiently as Briggs handcuffs you to the bed, making sure you’re comfortable before he straightens up.

“Do you think you could let the others know we’re okay?” You ask, after giving your right arm a few test tugs to make sure the restraint is tight enough to keep you in place.

“Of course, I’ll do that. I won’t tell them where we are or what we’re doing. Promise.” Briggs says as he places a bucket alongside the bed just in case you feel the need to throw up. You nod with a small smile, wiggling slightly to get more comfortable in the bed.

“Do you think…? Do you think you could let Tim know I’m okay? I feel bad enough that I went missing the first time and he had no idea if I was even alive or not. I owe it to him to let him know I’m okay this time around.” You ask quietly, watching as Briggs nods once more.

“Got it. I’ll let the others know and then I’ll let lover boy know in the morning, now get some sleep, you’re going to need it.” Briggs says with a wink as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, his gaze flicking down to the screen as he types out a message to send to Charlie.

“Come on Briggs.” You grumble, glaring over at Briggs who chuckles at how quickly he had managed to rile you up.

“Sorry. You know I had to. Now sleep.” Briggs says with a shrug, before pointing at you, his voice slightly stern as you grumble, attempting to find a comfortable position to lie in, feeling the nausea and nagging demand for more heroin screaming in your ear.

‘Hey, Tim, It’s Paul Briggs. I’ve taken y/n away for a couple of weeks just to help her decompress after whatever happened with her in Mexico and we’ve both decided she’d benefit from it. She’ll be unable to contact you for a while because of it. Everything is okay and you have no reason to worry.’ 

Tim’s eyebrows furrowed as he read the text that came through on his phone while he was sitting at a table ready for morning roll call, studying the message carefully as if he had somehow read it wrong. After reading the text a few times over, Tim sighs heavily as Lucy gives him a side-eye.

“What’s wrong?” Lucy asks curiously, turning her attention to Tim with a confused expression.

“That Briggs guy just messaged me saying that he’s taking y/n away for a bit to help her after all that stuff that happened in Mexico,” Tim mutters, eyes remaining fixed on the message as Lucy takes in his words.

“I mean, it would make sense for her to want to be away from everything. She’s clearly been through a lot recently and if she’s still not cleared to go back to work I understand why she’d want time away. It sounds like Briggs is just trying to help.” Lucy says with a slight shrug, trying to reassure Tim that it wasn’t anything personal.

“I get that. I’m just worried about her. She hasn’t been herself recently.” Tim says, expressing for the first time that he was concerned about you. He’d recognised a couple of signs with you that he had seen with Isabel and he was concerned that something had happened to you.

“I know you’re concerned, it goes to show how much you care about her. But this is probably what she needs. I needed time off after what happened with Caleb. Sometimes the best way to overcome stuff is just to get away from everything and it’s good that Briggs is evidently helping her through it.” Lucy says, her voice level and calm as Tim nods despite his slight frustration and jealousy.

“I know it’s just-”

“You’re jealous that Briggs is the one helping her not you?” Lucy cuts in with a raised eyebrow, trying to get to the bottom of what is really bothering Tim.

“Wha-? No, I’m not jealous.” Tim insists, eyes wide as he looks over at Lucy who doesn’t look convinced by his words.

“Okay, so let’s just go over this again. You’re bothered that y/n has gone away for a few weeks but you’re not concerned that she’s gone away with Briggs of all people?” Lucy asks, carefully studying Tim’s reaction.

“Briggs has nothing to do with my feelings regarding y/n being away.” Tim continues to insist, looking away from Lucy as he lets out a scoff.

“Are you sure? I won’t hold it against you if you are.” Lucy says, smiling lightly to try and ease the tension that has now settled between them.

“Okay I’m not jealous but after going to Mexico with that guy I just have a bad feeling about him. He seems like he’s only out for himself.” Tim then says, turning to face Lucy again whose eyebrows raised slightly in shock at Tim’s words.

“You think he’s going to hurt y/n or something?” She asks, concerned about what Tim thinks Briggs’ intentions are.

“I don’t know. y/n’s always spoken highly of him. Said he was her training officer when she first moved here and she’s trusted him for years now.” Tim explains, thinking of all the times you’d talked about Briggs. He knew you trusted Briggs with your life but after the interactions he had with him in Mexico. Tim couldn’t help but feel that something was off with Briggs. He didn’t like that Briggs had been so nonchalant when it came to finding you and how he had lorded the command he had over Tim’s head when Tim was the only one that first day who was chomping at the bit to go looking for you.

“I don’t think y/n would go with him if she didn’t trust him.” Lucy bargains, trying to calm Tim and reassure him that he’s just overthinking the whole thing.

“I know. I just-”

“Alright, guys, look alive!” The voice of Grey booms around the room as all conversations suddenly die down and everyone’s eyes flick to the front, ready to hear about what is on the agenda for the day. As Grey begins to talk, Lucy finds herself studying Tim in the corner of her eye, worried about him.

When Grey had finally finished talking and dismissed the group of gathered police officers, Tim got to his feet and headed to his shop to check the vehicle over with Lucy following close behind.

“Hey, I’ll get the war bags and then I’ll drive today, okay?” Lucy says, her voice gentle as she pats Tim’s shoulder lightly before turning back to head inside and get the war bags they need for their patrol. When she returned, she loaded the bags in the trunk of the vehicle and took the keys from Tim’s outstretched hand before climbing into the driver's seat while Tim rounded the shop and got in the passenger side.

The patrol was long and stressful for Tim. He tried to ask for updates every half an hour but all Briggs would ever send in response was ‘she’s fine.’ It started to grow frustrating when Tim received that message for what felt like the hundredth time and he fought the urge to throw his phone.

“Is he not telling you anything?” Lucy asks, her eyes fixed on the road as she hears Tim let out another sigh.

“He just keeps saying she’s fine. I can’t get any more than that. I just wish he’d tell me something, anything.” Tim grumbles, thumbs hovering over his phone screen as he debates sending a message back.

“At least you know she’s okay. That’s something, right?” Lucy offers, trying to put a positive spin on things while Tim continues to frown angrily, eyes not leaving his phone screen.

“But he’s not telling me any more than that. It sounds like a guy holding someone for ransom or something. He could just let me call and speak to her but he won’t let me.” Tim says, his jaw clenching.

“Tim. She’s been through something. We don’t know what but it’s probably been traumatic for her so I don’t blame her for wanting to go off the grid completely with someone she trusts to get through it.” Lucy says, reiterating the point she had made mere hours earlier. Lucy felt like she had been talking to a brick wall for most of the patrol. Thankfully, Tim could pull himself together enough to respond appropriately to calls, but the second he was back in the shop he was staring at his phone like a moping puppy.

By the end of the patrol, Lucy had tried everything she could to calm Tim down and convince him that he was overthinking but nothing seemed to work. It became increasingly clear to Lucy that the only way to get Tim to relax was for him to see for himself that you were okay. All she managed to achieve by the end of the patrol was for Tim to agree to wait for you to contact him first although she could tell it wouldn’t stop Tim’s worry.

“Hey, Tim. Take it easy, okay? I know y/n being off the grid right now is bothering you but you can’t let it interfere with your work.” Lucy says softly after bumping into Tim on her way out of the locker room.

“I know. I’ll do my best.” Tim mumbles with a small nod, adjusting his bag on his shoulder as he looks down at Lucy. He was already planning on going home, relaxing on the couch, and watching the game with Kojo to try to take his mind off everything.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me if you need anything.” Lucy says, nodding at Tim before making her way out of the station so she can head home, leaving Tim in the corridor.

By the end of two weeks in the safe house with Briggs, you were more than ready to go back to Graceland and get back to normality. The whole detox process had been sent from hell itself. You had cursed Briggs out for days while you writhed in pain on the bed and then to make matters worse you started burning up with a fever afterwards. You were fairly sure that most of the food Briggs offered to you had ended up being emptied out of your stomach after a few short minutes. But the pain had been worth it. You had completely cleared the heroin out of your system. While it was still there, the nagging demand for the drug had lessened and you knew that with the support of Briggs, you’d be able to get back into work and get back into a somewhat normal life.

“Can we go home, Briggs? Please?” You ask quietly while in the middle of drying your hair with a towel after a long overdue shower.

“You think you’re ready?” Briggs asks after taking a sip from his cup of coffee. His tone lacked judgement, only filled with concern as he looked over at you.

“I’m ready. I’ve missed everyone so much. I just want to go home.” You say, tears filling your eyes at the mere thought of your family back in Graceland.

“Okay, we’ll get sorted and then head back to Graceland,” Briggs says, getting to his feet after finishing his drink and crossing to the sink to clean the mug.

“Thank you.” You whisper gratefully, your eyes still teary as you look over at Briggs who nods, eyes fixed on the mug he was cleaning.

“I’ll be keeping a close eye on you when we’re back home. If I catch even the slightest whiff of a relapse I will tell the Bureau for your own good. And I’ll have you coming to my Narcotics Anonymous meetings which I know probably sounds ridiculous but I promise you it helps.” Briggs then says, finally putting the mug down before turning to look at you, a look of seriousness on his face as his arms folded across his chest. You nod at his words knowing that Briggs would absolutely follow through on his threat if he deemed it necessary and you couldn’t blame him. Your battle with addiction could put yourself and so many others in danger if you relapsed. The idea of losing your job and the people you loved so much served to push you to better yourself, to not let the drug get the better of you again.

“You got it.” You say assuredly, a verbal promise that you’d adhere to any and all rules that Briggs may put in place for your own benefit.

“Cool. Right, let’s get going. I know Charlie is desperate to make her world-famous ragu but she’s been refusing to make it without you there. I’d be surprised if the house was still intact when we got home with how long it’s been since we’ve had sauce night.” Briggs admits with a chuckle, thinking about the various messages he had received from various members of the house.

“I feel like I need to buy some flowers or something to apologise for depriving everyone of sauce night for so long.” You laugh breathily as you stand from the bed, moving to grab your shoes as you discard the towel, hanging it over the back of the chair Briggs had placed by the bed, a way to sit nearby and support you through your detox.

“They’ll get over it. However, Tim was practically constantly pestering me for updates on how you were doing.” Briggs says, smoothly shifting the subject as you look over at him eyes wide with worry.

“You didn’t tell him what was going on, did you?” You ask, concern grabbing at your throat, constricting it as you fear what Tim may know.

“Of course, I didn’t. I only told him that you were okay and that we were away for some time to help you decompress after Mexico. I didn’t say anything more than that.” Briggs assures, grabbing his jacket from where it had been carelessly discarded on the table and tugging it on, waiting patiently for you to put your shoes on.

“Good. If he finds out, I want him to hear it from me directly.” You say, looking up at Briggs, briefly distracted from tying your shoelaces. Briggs watches you quietly, and a small sigh escapes his lips.

“Look, y/n. Telling Tim might not be the best idea. Secrets have burdens and telling someone, like Tim, who’s a member of the LAPD would really throw a stick in the works. I mean at the end of the day it’s up to you who you tell. But think about how it could affect them as well.” Briggs says, making your eyebrows furrow in thought as you think carefully about his words. You owed it to Tim to be honest with him, especially after everything that had happened recently, but you knew there was a possibility that he would react badly to the revelation. He was a Sergeant within the LAPD and you didn’t want him to have to go to work with that knowledge in his head. Briggs’ words also then made you realise that there was virtually no reason for you to even try and pursue a relationship with Tim anymore. Being an undercover agent was hard enough for relationships, let alone throwing in the fact that you were now a recovering heroin addict.

“You’re right.” You mumble softly, your mood now significantly dampened as you finish tying your laces, standing up and waiting for Briggs to join you.

“Let’s head home,” Briggs says softly, wrapping a supportive arm around your shoulders in an attempt to cheer you up after noticing how his previous words had affected you. You nod wordlessly in response and allow Briggs to lead you out of the safe house so you can both finally make your way back to Graceland.

The walk back to Graceland was quiet. Briggs had opted to take the scenic route home, walking along the beach. You admired the sights you had missed so much and watched the surfers who were in the ocean, patiently waiting for the next big wave. You couldn’t wait to return to the ocean, surf and forget all your worries. As you continue to walk along the beachfront, you hear a bark and perk up, noticing the familiar dog bounding towards you.

“Hey, BD!” You greet the dog excitedly as he presses himself up against your legs, eager for attention from you.

“It’s been a while, huh, buddy?” Briggs says lightly, reaching down to pet the dog as well. BD, short for Beach Dog had been living as a stray and roaming the beach since before you had joined Graceland. He was happy living on the beach and you and the others respected that. Of course, you’d bring him food and water on occasion, and pet him whenever you saw him, but you never tried to force him away from the comfort he had found from living on the beach.

“You haven’t been stealing any more of Mike’s flip-flops have you?” You ask the dog teasingly, stroking the top of his head softly as he pants happily, head tilting slightly as if he understood what you were saying to him.

“You’re just keeping Mikey on his toes aren’t you?” Briggs says down to BD, laughing as the dog lays down, rolling onto his back for even more attention. After a couple more minutes of fussing over the dog you had missed so much, you eventually decided to continue the walk back to Graceland with BD trotting alongside by your legs before he became distracted by something going on further down the beach and bolted off to investigate what was happening on his turf.

“Glad we were interesting enough for about five minutes.” You laugh breathily as you watch BD booking it down the beach, barking as he goes.

“I mean if I were a dog I’d probably find seagulls more interesting too,” Briggs says, bumping you lightly with his shoulder as you watch the seagulls that had been wandering the beach in BD’s line of sight take to the sky in a flurry as he rushes towards them.

“Yeah, I can’t blame him for that. He’s got to protect his beach.” You say with a smile as you watch BD bark at the birds that are now in the sky, squawking in warning to others.

You continue to walk down the beach until you finally approach the door to Graceland. You take a moment to stand outside the door, processing the fact that you are finally home after everything that has happened to you recently. You could only hope that this time you were here to stay. As if sensing your hesitation, Briggs gently hands you a key to the house, his smile supportive as he nods in approval. You nod back before lifting your hand to the door, carefully putting the key into the lock, taking a deep breath before turning the key and opening the door.

“Welcome home!” Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped when you saw your housemates standing in the living room, wide smiles on their faces as they stood in front of a ‘welcome home’ banner.

“How did you-?”

“Briggs told us you were coming home today. We hauled ass to get this together.” Johnny brags, crossing to you and pulling you into his arms with a grin. You were unsurprised to discover that Johnny was the brains behind the operation. He never turned down an opportunity to plan a party, no matter how small.

“You didn’t have to.” You say, your eyes growing teary with appreciation as you pull away from Johnny’s embrace slightly, looking over his shoulder to where the others are now approaching.

“We wanted to, y/n/n. You’re family.” Mike says, pulling you into a hug of his own as you mirror his actions, hugging him tight.

“I was only gone for a couple of weeks.” You insist, trying to fathom why they had gone out of their way to do such a thing for you.

“Yeah and after what you’d been through it’s the least we could do. Briggs didn’t give me enough of a heads up so unfortunately we can’t have sauce night tonight but three days from now we’ll have it, alright?” Charlie says, her voice soft and motherly as Mike lets you move to hug her, her hand instantly coming up to run through your hair as she hugs you.

“I’ve gone this long without it. What’s a few more days?” You joke lightly, eliciting laughs from the other members of the house.

“All that matters is that you’re okay,” Paige says, smiling softly as you look over at her, your smile matching hers as you detangle yourself from Charlie’s embrace to hug Paige who wraps you up in her arms quickly, hugging you close as you reciprocate the action.

“Jakes, are you not getting involved?” You ask, noticing how Jakes had elected to stay a few paces behind everyone else, watching the interactions from a short distance.

“Well you know parties aren’t my thing,” Jakes says with a light shrug as you are released from Paige’s embrace, an eyebrow raised as you watch him carefully.

“Not even a welcome home party for me?” You ask teasingly, opening your arms for a hug as Jakes chuckles lightly.

“Who am I kidding? Come here, girl.” Jakes says, crossing to you with a smile, wrapping you up in his arms, hugging you tightly as you laugh.

“Are you staying now?” You hear Mike ask, turning your head to look over at him with a small smile.

“Yes, Mikey, you’re all stuck with me once more. I’m going to head to the Bureau in a couple of days and see if I can get back out there working again.” You say, glancing around at each person in turn, offering them all soft smiles.

“You’re sure you’re feeling up to working again?” Charlie asks, her worry evident on her face and in her voice as she talks.

“I’m definitely feeling up to it. Being out of action for so long is sending me insane and I just feel useless sitting around doing nothing while you guys are still working.” You explain as Jakes loosens his grip on you, allowing you to step away and fully address everyone around you.

“Damn, was the two weeks with me that bad?” Briggs jokes, slinging an arm around your shoulders and jostling you slightly as everyone laughs.

“Yeah, what was it you were up to with Briggs?” Johnny asks curiously, eyebrow raised as his eyes flick between you and Briggs.

“I just needed time away from everything and Briggs was teaching me all his zen techniques to help after what happened in Mexico.” You laugh, the lie coming easily as the others laugh at the idea of you meditating with Briggs for two weeks straight.

“Well you’re home now, and we’ve got your back. We’re going to help you as much as we can.” Mike says, his smile gentle as ever as the rest of the group nods in support, making your heart swell with appreciation for the support you were getting from the others. They didn’t know the truth behind why you had disappeared but you weren’t ready to tell them about it, especially after Briggs’ warning. After a few minutes of catching up with the others, you head up to your room to put your things away and as you dig through the bag, discarding used clothes into the laundry basket, you find your burner phone at the bottom of the bag. The phone had been the one you used to contact the local drug dealers you knew, the ones you knew could get you heroin when you needed it. You hold the phone in your hands, staring down at the phone as it seemingly taunts you, a siren song to just turn the phone on and call someone to get the high you had been deprived of for weeks. After staring at the phone for what felt like hours, you snap yourself back to reality, standing from where you had sat on the edge of your bed and make your way to Briggs’ room, knocking on the door and waiting for permission to come in.

“What can I do for you?” Briggs asks with a smile after calling you in from where he was sitting on his bed, his laptop on his legs as he scrolls through files he’s not looked at for weeks as you close the door behind you.

“I need you to take this.” You say, practically forcing the phone in Briggs’ hand the moment you cross the room and reach his side, noticing his confused expression at the force behind your actions and your words.

“I’m sorry, why?” Briggs questions, discarding his laptop alongside him on the bed as he pushes himself more upright.

“I used that phone to contact people when I wanted a hit. I don’t trust myself at the moment to go around knowing that it was in my room. You can do whatever you want with it. Destroy it. Hide it. Bury it in a ditch for all I care as long as I don’t know where it is.” You say, not even able to bring yourself to look at the phone as you begin to pace anxiously. At your panic, Briggs gets up from where he is sitting, placing his hands on your shoulder, catching you in your pacing and ducking his head down to be in your line of sight.

“y/n/n. Breathe. I got you. You’re so much stronger than you think and the fact you’ve taken the initiative to bring this to me so you’re not tempted is a huge step and shows how seriously you’re taking your recovery and it gives me faith that you’re not going to relapse easily. I’ve got it handled. This phone is going to disappear off the map and you’ll never have to think about it again.” Briggs says softly, squeezing your shoulders ever so slightly to alleviate the tension he felt sitting there. He watched carefully as you nodded, exhaling softly before getting the courage to finally look Briggs in the eye.

“Thank you, Briggs.” You mumble appreciatively, the smallest of smiles gracing your face as Briggs nods, a smile of his own appearing.

“We have a meeting in a couple of days, it’ll feel scary and intimidating but I’ll be there too. And if the Bureau clears you for work I’m making sure you start off easy. I’m not letting anyone throw you in the deep end if I’m not there, okay? We’re going to figure it out.” Briggs assures you softly, his words giving you confidence that you’ll be able to get back to normality in time.

“Thank you.” You repeat, nodding as Briggs releases his grip on your shoulders, standing up straight and tucking the phone securely in his pocket.

“You don’t need to worry about that phone anymore. It’ll be gone before the day is up.” Briggs says with a quick wink, making you nod, grateful for the support Briggs was showing you when you knew he had no obligation to do so. With one final ‘thank you’ muttered, you turn on your heel and head out of the room, making your way back to your own room to grab a hoodie before heading downstairs to join the others who greet you with smiles.

“What are we watching?” You say, settling down on the couch alongside Mike who turns to look at you with a smile.

“Some western. Bello is obsessed with them so I’ve got to make sure my knowledge about them is top-notch.” Mike says as he settles back against the cushions, a slight sigh escaping his lips.

“And he’s recorded over all the shit I’ve recorded,” Johnny complains, entering the living room and dropping down on the couch next to you with a groan.

“I said they’ll be gone soon Johnny, stop complaining.” Mike fires back with a laugh as Johnny rolls his eyes.

“How’s it going with Bello, anyway?” You ask curiously, looking over at Mike.

“It’s going. He’s thinking about starting a deal with Odin. He’s hesitant because he knows going against the Caza Cartel can have pretty bad consequences.” Mike admits as you nod, unbeknownst to him that you had experienced the brutality of the Caza Cartel firsthand and could understand why someone like Bello was hesitant to move to another dealer.

“I can understand why he’s hesitant. From what I’ve heard, Caza can be brutal when they want to be.” You say, acting as nonchalantly as possible to avoid Mike and Johnny figuring out that you had a run-in with Caza, although you were fairly sure they had their suspicions after seeing the condition you were in when you had returned from Mexico.

“So, are you going to let Tim know you’re back? Honestly, I’d be surprised if he didn’t confess his feelings the moment he sees you.” Johnny says with a laugh, attempting to change the subject as Mike chuckles quietly, neither man noticing the dejected expression appearing on your face.

“I don’t know when I’ll see him. But we’re not going to start a relationship. He doesn’t like me like that. And even if he did, I couldn’t do that to him.” You say, eyes flicking to the floor as your knee begins to bounce anxiously.

“Do what to who?” Charlie asks as she enters the living room, having clearly heard the tail end of your words but not knowing the full context.

“She’s saying she couldn’t date Tim,” Johnny says, immediately ratting you out and ignoring your half-hearted glare as Charlie settles down alongside him on the couch.

“Why do you say that? He’s head over heels for you.” Charlie asks, her voice soft as she watches you carefully, not missing the tears welling in your eyes.

“Yeah! He’s so in love with you and we can all tell you love him too. Come on girl you need to go for it! Put us all out of our misery here.” Johnny teases, making you grit your teeth as the tears continue to build.

“I’m an undercover agent. I can’t in good conscience date him when I work such a dangerous job. He deserves better.” You say, the tears slipping past their defences and trickling down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut, hands clutching the edge of the couch like it was a lifeline.

“Baby, you’ll never know unless you try. He’s LAPD, he understands our job more than most would. I’m sure the two of you could navigate a relationship.” Charlie insists softly, standing up so she can swap seats with Johnny, wrapping an arm around you and tugging you into her side the moment she sits down alongside you.

“I can’t put him through that. He deserves better than to be worrying about me when I’m undercover. And I won’t put a target on his back just for the sake of a relationship.” You say firmly, suddenly standing and making a beeline for the front door, wanting to get away from the questioning. You ignored the calls from the others as they tried to get you to stay but you feared that you’d snap if you endured any more of their pressing. You headed down to the beach, heading down to the nearest pier and sitting underneath it in the shade. It was hidden and peaceful so you’d at least have a small slither of time to yourself before someone tracked you down.

Your feelings for Tim were overwhelmingly strong. You truly cared for him and wished you could be in a relationship with him but you knew you couldn’t. You were close enough with Tim to have learnt about his ex-wife Isabel and her drug addiction. You also knew how badly it had affected Tim as well. With what Jangles and the Caza Cartel did to you, you knew it would ruin Tim to try and be in a relationship with you and you weren’t willing to put him through that pain again. You couldn’t bear to potentially get into a relationship with him and then relapse, putting Tim through the pain of you giving in to your past addiction.

The longer you think about what Caza has taken from you, your emotions begin to get the better of you, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as you mourn a relationship you never had in the first place. You longed to be able to tell Tim how you felt but you knew the risks associated with your job would put him in danger and you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if something happened to him because of you. As you continue to cry, you pull your knees up to your chest, burying your face in your knees to try and stifle your sobs as they rack your body.

“y/n!” You’re vaguely aware of Johnny’s voice calling out to you, followed by rushed footsteps as he approaches but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak or even look at him. You hear Johnny sit down alongside you yet you still don’t look up at him.

“Hey, y/n/n. I’m sorry for the jokes. It was stupid of me to do that.” Johnny apologises quietly his gaze fixed on the ocean ahead of him. Johnny felt so guilty for joking about your feelings for Tim the moment you bolted out of the house, he felt like he deserved the slap on the back of the head he received from Charlie after everyone had processed what happened.

“It wasn’t you John.” Your hoarse voice speaks up as you finally lift your head from your knees, turning your head so you can look at Johnny who turns to face you with a sad look, guilt written clear as day across his face.

“You don’t need to lie to me, y/n. I know I upset you.” Johnny says, a weak attempt at a smile creeping onto his face as he watches you carefully. You fought back the temptation to frown. Johnny was the brightest light within Graceland, he was always smiling and finding the fun in everything around him despite the job he was a part of and he had become like a younger brother to you during your time in Graceland. You hated to see him so upset over something that wasn’t his fault. You knew he was just trying to make light of the situation and you let your emotions get the better of you.

“Johnny, I promise I’m not upset with you. It’s just been a rough few weeks and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair of me to do.” You say apologetically, lifting your hand to wipe at your tears. Johnny then takes the opportunity to shuffle closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you gently against his side, smiling softly as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“I promise I won’t make any more jokes about you and Tim. I’ll be on my best behaviour,” Johnny says softly, making you smile as a small laugh escapes your lips.

“I don’t mind jokes, Johnny. But less jokes about Tim would be appreciated.” You admit quietly as Johnny nods before resting his head atop yours.

“You got it. One hundred percent serious Johnny is here to stay.” Johnny brags lightly, making you laugh once more.

“I give you a day before you start cracking jokes again.” You mutter softly, a smile on your face as Johnny gasps lightly.

“You wanna bet?” Johnny asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, if you make even one joke towards me before tomorrow is up, you have to buy my drinks next time we go to the bar. If you make it through tomorrow, I’ll buy your drinks.” You propose, lifting your head from Johnny’s shoulder and holding a hand out towards him.

“You’ve got yourself a deal. I can’t wait to have a night of free drinks.” Johnny brags as he lets go of your hand, both of you laughing softly as Johnny pulls you into a quick hug. Before the two of you can go back to conversing, you hear the sound of two people running, before they stop suddenly alongside you.

“y/n?” At the sound of your name, you pull away from Johnny’s embrace and look over your shoulder and see Tim and Lucy standing alongside you.

“Tim.” You say quietly, both you and Johnny scrambling to get to your feet.

“I didn’t know you were back,” Tim says, trying to keep his voice steady and neutral while his brain was running at one hundred miles per hour.

“I just got back today.” You say with a small shrug, trying to downplay your absence.

“Oh, right,” Tim mutters, a weak attempt at a smile on his face as he regards you softly.

“What brings you guys here? Tim hates the beach so it’s definitely a surprise seeing you guys here.” You then say, changing the subject and looking over at Lucy.

“We’re working a case and we found a piece of potential evidence. Then a dog grabbed it right out of Tim’s hand and ran off with it.” Lucy explains, her hands resting on her belt as she talks.

“I bet it was BD. What do you think, Johnny?” You say, glancing over at Johnny who nods in agreement.

“Sorry? BD?” Tim asks, eyes flicking between you and Johnny in hopes of an answer.

“Beach Dog. We call him BD for short. He’s known around here for snatching stuff and running off with it. We’ll help you track him down.” You explain before beginning to survey the beach, eyes squinting as you hope to locate the dog in question.

“We should split up. I’ll go with you y/n, and then you two can go around together.” You hear Johnny suggest, looking back at the group, ready to nod before Lucy speaks up.

“I’d actually like to go around with you if you don’t mind, Johnny. I have questions about the FBI and I’d love to learn more.” Lucy asks quickly, looking over at Johnny who in turn looks at you, quietly asking for permission. When you nod lightly, Johnny then turns to face Lucy with a wide smile.

“It would be my pleasure.” He says with a grin as he and Lucy head down the beach in one direction while you and Tim head in the other, both of you surveying the beach in hopes of spotting BD or the piece of potential evidence.

“So, what is it we’re looking for?” You ask quietly, realising as you walk that you have no idea what it is you’re looking for.

“It’s a scrap of a t-shirt. Chances are it could just be a random scrap of cloth but with this being one of the last known locations of our missing person it would be stupid not to consider it evidence until proven otherwise.” Tim says, following you down the beach.

“And BD’s just gone and stolen it from you. He’s the sweetest dog but he really will just steal anything. Stole one of Mike’s flip-flops his first full day here.” You mutter, slightly agitated at the dog for potentially hindering a serious case.

“Is he a stray?” Tim asks curiously as you stop walking for a moment to look around you, allowing Tim to catch up to you.

“Yeah, and he likes it that way. He prefers living out here.” You explain as Tim nods in understanding.

“I see. Well if he’s happy out here that’s all that matters.” Tim shrugs lightly.

“Exactly.” You mutter before noticing some tracks that look like they could belong to BD, beginning to follow them as Tim rushes to catch up to you.

“How have you been? You were gone for a while and Briggs wouldn’t give me much of a response when I asked.” Tim asks, watching you carefully as you feel your heart twinge.

“I’m fine. I needed the time away from everything and Briggs was the guy who could help me most.” You respond as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. In reality, you longed to tell Tim the truth but you longed to protect him so you attempted to close yourself off, acting cold and distant to try and drive him away.

“And did the time away help?” Tim asks softly, wanting to know if you are okay or not.

“I guess.” You shrug, trying to be as vague as possible to deter Tim from continuing to question you about your time away from everyone. Getting the hint that you don’t want to talk more, Tim falls silent and continues to follow you down the beach until you find BD lying in the sand, a scrap of cloth in his mouth as he studies you carefully, ears perked.

“Hey, buddy. We need that. Is it okay if I have it?” You asks the dog softly, beginning to crouch down to his level but you quickly realise that BD was going to see this as a game as he gets to his feet, his eyes never leaving you.

“I’ve got something you might like a little better. How does a treat sound?” Tim asks the dog, digging in one of his pockets for a small pack of dog treats, extracting a treat from the packet and offering it towards BD who drops the scrap of cloth, allowing you to scoop it up while Tim gives BD a treat who accepts hit happily, allowing Tim to pet him briefly before bolting off down the beach, now uninterested in the two of you.

“You just carry dog treats around like that?” You muse with a small smile, raising an eyebrow as Tim shrugs lightly.

“I went into a store earlier to ask some questions and I saw these treats. I thought my dog would like them.” Tim says with a small smile, tucking the treat packet back into his pocket as he talks.

“You never mentioned having a dog.” You say, shocked that you hadn’t known that information about Tim.

“Yeah I have a dog, his name is Kojo,” Tim says as the two of you begin to make your way back towards where you had split up with Johnny and Lucy.

“Can’t believe you kept that information from me.” You tease, laughing softly.

“You’ll have to meet him sometime.” Tim then says, his voice softening as he glances over at you. He longed to spend more time with you outside of your jobs but he never wanted to push your boundaries.

“Maybe. We’ll see.” You reply, suddenly sobering up when you remember the rules you had set in place to protect yourself and Tim. Sensing that the conversation was ending, Tim radioed Lucy, letting her know that you had found the missing item. As you approach the meeting point, you see Lucy and Johnny chatting as they wait for you to arrive.

“Chen, we’ve got it,” Tim calls over to her, making both Lucy and Johnny approach the two of you as you dig the item out of your pocket holding it out towards Lucy.

“I don’t know how good this would be as evidence. It’s got dog slobber all over it.” You say apologetically as Lucy takes it from your hand.

“Forensics are good at their job. They should be able to find something of use here. Hopefully.” Lucy says, tucking the scrap of cloth away in a zip-loc bag.

“Forensics can find anything. If this evidence is useful, it won’t take them long to find something.” Johnny says confidently, lightly bumping Lucy with his shoulder and chuckling.

“Johnny’s right. You guys should get that to forensics so you can find out if it’ll help your case or not.” You say, looking from Tim to Lucy and back again as they nod in agreement.

“That’s true. Come on Lucy, let’s go and see if this was worth chasing a dog down for.” Tim mutters, nodding over at Lucy who mirrors his action.

“We’ll see you around,” Lucy says to you and Johnny before turning to leave with Tim, both of them heading back in the direction they had come from. You and Johnny watch them leave quietly before looking over at each other.

“We should probably head home before Charlie freaks out, huh?” You say quietly as Johnny nods.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like being murdered so the sooner we get back the better,” Johnny replies, gesturing for you to follow him and the two of you begin to head back to Graceland to spend the rest of the day relaxing.

A month later, you had gotten back into a regular routine. You weren’t ready to tackle undercover cases yet, so you had elected to work as a liaison between the FBI and the LAPD, offering support with tact teams and advice for any officers tackling any undercover cases. You had been regularly attending Narcotics Anonymous meetings with Briggs and with the support of him and the other meeting attendants, you had managed to earn yourself your one-month sobriety chip. You were so proud of yourself for getting this far. Some of your days were rougher than others, you’d be in a foul attitude and you’d snap at anyone who dared talk to you but on other days you were fine. Your good days were beginning to outnumber the bad ones and you were beginning to feel more and more like your old self. Your only issue was that you were still hiding what happened to you from everyone. You felt like the others in the house deserved to know about your struggles. Briggs might be okay hiding his struggles with addiction from the others but you felt like you were living a lie every time you looked one of them in the eye. You even felt like you owed it to Tim to be honest with him too. You had been spending more time at Mid-Wilshire and it was getting harder and harder to lie to him and pretend like everything was okay. You were willing to take the risk to tell him even if it meant he stopped talking to you altogether.

Tim had noticed your distant behaviour and had attempted to talk to you several times as well as trying to invite you to spend time out of work. Each time you had turned him down, telling him that you had planned things with the others or whatever excuse came to mind. Despite what Tim had been saying previously, Tim had found himself incredibly jealous of your closeness to Briggs. He regularly dropped you off and picked you up from Mid-Wilshire and Tim never missed the tight hugs and the gentle kisses Briggs would place upon the top of your head. He had no idea what had happened to prompt such a sudden bond between the two of you but it hurt to think that it could potentially be more than platonic between the two of you. After a month of you avoiding him and barely speaking more than a few words to him, Tim’s jealousy started to get the better of him and one evening after you left with Briggs, Tim decided to follow you.

It was easy to spot the orange Bronco even in nighttime LA traffic so Tim was able to follow from a reasonable distance so he could avoid being spotted. The drive was about twenty minutes long and Tim soon found himself parked outside a building and heading in. He had no idea where in the building you had gone but he could hear movement on the next floor so he carefully made his way up the stairs and headed towards the room with an open door, hearing a conversation begin to die down and just as he reached the door he saw you stood at the front of the room before a small crowd of people. Just as you prepared to speak, you looked up and locked eyes with Tim who had paused in the doorway, watching you softly. It took you by surprise at first, and all you could do was stare, shocked that he was there. Pulling yourself together, you took a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as you inhaled before finally getting the courage to open your eyes, watching Tim once more as you began to talk.

“Hi, my name is y/n and I’m a heroin addict.” You said, the same way you had weekly since Briggs started making you attend these meetings. You watched Tim’s reaction carefully and did your best to conceal your building tears when he continued to watch you, the shock evident in his eyes. You continue to talk, opening up about how you’d struggled a little since the last meeting but taking a moment to be proud of your achievement now that you had reached one month of sobriety. When you had finished talking, there was a small ripple of applause from everyone seated in front of you, including Tim from his spot in the doorway as you sat back down alongside Briggs. Tim decides to step out into the hallway as the rest of the meeting continues, waiting patiently for you to come out when the meeting is over.

When people began to file out of the room, Tim headed towards the door, seeing you and Briggs talking to another member of the meeting and you looked over at him, nodding in acknowledgement before excusing yourself from the conversation and making your way over to Tim.

“Hi.” You mumble quietly, the atmosphere awkward between the two of you as you stand before him, eyes looking everywhere but at him.

“Hey. Can we go somewhere more private?” Tim asks quietly, and you nod lightly.

“Is everything okay here?” Briggs asks, sidling up alongside you and watching Tim carefully as if he were a threat.

“Everything’s fine, Briggs. I’m going to chat with Tim privately. I’ll find you when I’m ready to head home.” You explain, turning to look at Briggs who nods, unconvinced.

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few.” Briggs says, embracing you quickly and kissing the top of your head in support before releasing you, allowing you to head out of the building with Tim, finding somewhere quiet to chat. You find a bench overlooking the ocean, both you and Tim sitting down on it and watching the waves quietly for a moment before Tim speaks up.

“Did that happen to you in Mexico?” He asks quietly, his gaze fixed on the dark waves lapping against the sand.

“Yeah… Caza clearly knew who I was. They knew if news of my addiction got out, all my cases would be reopened and investigated. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” You explain, tears welling in your eyes as you apologise.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Tim asks softly, finally turning his head to look at you, sadness written across all his features.

“I wanted to. But I remembered what you told me about Isabel. I couldn’t put you through that pain again. You don’t deserve it.” You say quietly, watching as Tim shakes his head.

“You didn’t need to do that. I would’ve wanted to support you in your recovery. I still do.” Tim insists, his eyes growing watery before he blinks furiously to rid himself of the tears.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, tears spilling down your cheeks and Tim wasted no time in pulling you into his arms, holding you carefully as if you’d fall apart in his arms if he wasn’t careful.

“You don’t need to apologise. I’m sorry for following you all the way here. I wasn’t thinking straight and I let my emotions get the better of me.” Tim apologises, continuing to blink his own tears away as he holds you.

“I should’ve just told you sooner. That’s on me.” You say, sniffling as you cling to Tim.

“Don’t blame yourself. You went through something I could never fathom. And I won’t press you for anything more if you’re not ready to.” Tim says as you begin to pull away slightly so you can look him in the eyes.

“It was so much and I didn’t know what to do. It was weeks after I got back that I finally asked for help.” You admit tearily, lifting a hand to wipe at your eyes.

“And that was so brave of you to do. It took Isabel over a year to accept any help and I offered any time I could to help. The fact you’ve gotten help this soon and worked on it is incredible.” Tim says, his smile gentle as he talks, encouraging you to give him a small, weak smile in response.

“Briggs has been a massive help through it all. I wouldn’t have gotten through this without him.” You admit, thinking of your friend and how much he had been willing to help you.

“Is that what’s been going on with you two? You’re not… together?” Tim asks, aware that he might be pushing but his curiosity and jealousy were gnawing at his stomach and he didn’t have time to process what he was saying before it left his lips.

“Definitely not. Briggs is like an older brother to me. He figured out what was going on with me and like I said, he’s been my support system through all this.” You explain, waving your hand dismissively as Tim’s eyes fall to the floor, a slight blush covering his cheeks in his embarrassment.

“Sorry, that was completely unnecessary of me to ask and it wasn’t the place or time,” Tim says, rambling to try and recover from what he had just said.

“I don’t mind. I can understand why it might look like we are together.” You say with a soft smile, shrugging lightly to let Tim know you didn’t hold any bad blood about his question. The two of you then fell into a comfortable silence, but you could tell there was something Tim wanted to say so you waited patiently for him to get his confidence, wondering what it was he wanted to say to you.

“Hey, this is probably the worst possible time to say this but I owe it to you to be honest. I got jealous seeing how close you and Briggs were recently. It reminded me of what I was missing after you got back from Mexico because we used to be close. Maybe my feelings for you were just fuelling my jealousy I don’t know.” Tim explains awkwardly, fumbling to find the right words as he looks everywhere but at you.

“Feelings for me?” You ask quietly, shocked that Tim had admitted such a thing when you’d gone so long assuming that he didn’t see you in a romantic light.

“Uh, yeah. I have feelings for you. And have done for quite a while now.” Tim admits quietly, finally finding the courage to focus on you once more.

“Well, I guess I can’t lie to you anymore. I have feelings for you too. But I don’t want to hurt you.” You say softly, wanting to be completely transparent with Tim.

“Why do you think you’d hurt me?” Tim asks, tilting his head slightly in his confusion as you bite your lip, trying to fight back tears at the mere thought of hurting Tim somehow.

“What if I relapse? I don’t want to remind you of what you went through with Isabel. On top of that, my job is dangerous and I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.” You explain your fears as Tim softens.

“If you relapse, I’ll be there to help you every step of the way. I promise. On top of that, yes, your job may be dangerous but it’s not like I have no idea what your job entails. Isabel used to work undercover so I know what can happen. I can protect myself. Neither of those reasons is enough to scare me off. If you want to, I’d like to try a relationship. We can go at your pace.” Tim says, his voice gentle but his words confident and strong. He wanted you to know that if you were all in, he was too. He wouldn’t let himself be scared off easily.

“Are you sure?” You ask quietly, longing to just accept Tim’s offer but your mind was getting the better of you, making you overthink.

“I’m positive. But it’s up to you.” Tim confirms, making sure you know where he stands.

“I’d like to try a relationship too.” You reply shyly, both of you smiling lightly at each other before Tim embraces you once more, neither one of you wanting to break the embrace until you hear the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you, making you pull away and look behind you, seeing Briggs stood behind you with his arms crossed.

“Are you ready to go?” Briggs asks with a quirked eyebrow, clearly noticing the shift in energy between you and Tim.

“I probably should head home. I think I’m ready to tell everyone else about what happened. They deserve to know.” You say over to Briggs, fighting back a frown when he lets out a disappointed sigh.

“y/n, I don’t know if you should tell them. You’ve already burdened a member of the LAPD with this secret. If you tell the others they’ll be forced to carry it too.” Briggs says, making Tim clench his jaw before he stands up from the bench. He crosses to Briggs as you leap up to follow him, not wanting to witness a potential punching match.

“Hey, you have no right to tell y/n who she can and can’t tell. I am not burdened with her secret. She’s trusting me with it and I’ll keep it like my life depends on it. If she trusts everyone else in the house why shouldn’t they know?” Tim states angrily, stopping his approach towards Briggs when you place a hand on his chest.

“Fine. She can do what she wants, but this isn’t the first time I’ve warned her.” Briggs says after a brief staring contest between the two men before gesturing for you to follow him so he can take you back to Graceland.

“I’ll bring her back.” Tim volunteers, sticking close to you.

“Okay then. I’m going to head back, the others are probably having a campfire so you can join us whenever you are ready.” Briggs says, his voice losing its harshness as he directs his words to you but you already know how much he disapproved of your wishes. After he walks off, climbing into his Bronco and driving off, Tim turns to you.

“Are you okay? He was really harsh.” Tim asks, his eyes studying you worriedly as you nod.

“I’m fine. That’s just Briggs. He wants to do what he can to protect Graceland and everyone in it.” You dismiss with a shrug, following Tim to his truck, getting in the passenger seat when the vehicle has been unlocked.

“He didn’t need to make it seem like your battle with addiction is a burden,” Tim mutters as he starts the engine, pulling out of the parking spot and beginning the drive to Graceland.

“He’s not entirely wrong. Secrets have burdens. I know telling people can be bad, to give them such a big secret for them to protect is a lot to ask.” You say, your eyes fixed on the window beside you, watching the streetlights zip past, creating a blur of light.

“Still, if they’re close friends, it makes sense for them to know.” Tim justifies, his eyes fixed on the road.

“We’ve always had a saying that there’s no secrets at Graceland… unless you’re Briggs. They deserve to know. I haven’t told them a thing about what happened in Mexico since I got back.” You say, feeling guilt tugging on your heartstrings for all the lies you’d told your friends.

“If you want, I can be there with you as moral support,” Tim says, taking a brief moment to glance at you before focusing on the road again.

“You’d do that?” You ask, a slight shock in your voice as you look over at Tim who nods.

“Of course, I would. I can’t imagine this is the easiest thing to talk about and you’re about to talk about it for the second time in one night. If you want me there, I’m there.” Tim says as if it were the most obvious answer in the world, making a small smile appear on your face at his willingness to support you.

“I’d like that.” You say, watching how a small smile tugs at the corner of Tim’s lips as he continues to drive.

When you arrive at Graceland, you notice your friends sitting around a campfire on the beach and you tell Tim to follow you, both of you making your way down to the beach where everyone greeted you and Tim enthusiastically.

“What can we do for you two?” Charlie asks as Tim sidles up alongside you.

“I needed to talk to you guys about something. I haven’t been completely honest with you all since I got back from Mexico.” You say, taking a shuddering breath as all eyes fall on you and as if it was instinctual, Tim reaches out and takes your hand in his, squeezing softly to show his silent support.

Listening to you explain what happened to you in Mexico made Tim’s heart hurt. He hated having to listen to the pain you had been through and how long you had tried to deal with it alone before Briggs realised what was going on. Tim wasn’t too keen on Briggs, but he’d always be grateful that he noticed what was going on with you and helped you through everything. By the time you had finished explaining everything, tears had flowed down your face and stained your cheeks. At first, no one said anything, and as you readied yourself to apologise and talk about moving out, everyone got up from their place around the fire and rushed over to you, trapping you in a group hug as Tim relinquished his hold on your hand and stepped back to let your friends support you.

“Thank you for telling us,” Charlie says softly, wiping at your cheeks with her thumbs to get rid of the fallen tears.

“Your secret is safe with us, girl.” Johnny then says, followed by murmurs of agreement from the other members of the group. Feeling comforted by the support of the others, you thank them all quietly as they pull away allowing Tim to step back towards you, wrapping an arm around your middle and pulling you close, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. You spend a few minutes talking with your friends, telling them how your recovery has been going. They seemed to respect that it wasn’t the time to enquire about Tim and what your relationship may be with him at the current moment. After chatting for a while, a yawn slips past your lips.

“I might have to call it a night, guys.” You say apologetically, bidding everyone goodnight as Tim escorts you to the back door of Graceland.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Tim asks quietly, taking your hand as he stands facing you.

“I’m not sure where I’ll be at work tomorrow, but if you want to see me after work I’m sure we can figure something out.” You reply with a smile, squeezing Tim’s hand as he smiles softly.

“Well, I do need to take you on our first official date,” Tim says with a raised eyebrow, making you laugh softly.

“You’ll have to tell me the plan tomorrow.” You say before getting the courage to lean in and press a soft kiss to Tim’s cheek.

“Goodnight, y/n,” Tim says softly, pulling you into a hug and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head as you whisper goodnight in response. When Tim pulls away, you both whisper one final goodnight before he backs off, making his way back to his truck as you make your way into the house, heading up to your room and wasting no time in getting ready for bed and climbing under your sheets with a smile. As you curled up in bed, you couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief, you’d gotten the courage to do something you thought was impossible and now you had a bigger support system than ever.

You’d be okay.

Tim Tags (comment or ask to be added):

@callsigns-haze @fore45fore @reignsboy19 @xi1dius @plutotcles @lives-in-midgard @mystical-258 @malindacath @cuntyvicodin @brewolfhowl @child-of-the-sunshine

[that-cunning-witch]

Know any good sources on Celtic (specifically Gaulish practices)? I know it’s not your area, but you seem like someone who might know some people who dabble in that sort of stuff. The area I live in has some celtic archeological sites, but sadly not much is known about the local religion or culture. I am trying to put together a Romano-Celtic hearth cult, but it’s difficult finding practices and deities that feel right.

Gaul is a larger Celtic area of Western Europe (modern-day France and parts of modern-day Belgium, Germany, and Northern Italy). I say this because the Celts, when invaded by Rome, took in a lot of Roman religion including Hellenic and (rarely) Kemetic beliefs as well. When the Celts did this, so did the Gauls.

If it helps at all, the specifics you're looking into is called Gallo-Roman, which is part of the larger Romano-Celtic area.

This selective acculturation manifested in several ways. One of the main ways we see this is with the melding of Greco-Roman deities with Gaulish (Celtic) deities. Gaulish epithets for Roman gods (Jupiter Poeninus) and Roman epithets for Gaulish gods (Lenus Mars). Roman gods were given Gaulish god partners (Mercury and Rosmerta & Apollo and Sirona). Towards the east of the Gauls, many mysteries were formed, including one for the Greek hero Orpheus, the Iranian (or Persian) god Mithras, and the Egyptian goddess Isis. In other words, a whole lot of syncretism.

When it came to the Gauls (and the Celts overall) a main part of their belief system was the heavy use of animal imagery. More specifically, zoomorphic deities. However, we see a lot more human-looking representations of the gods because the Romans (and Greeks) weren't too keen on the idea (see Greco-Egyptian).

As for specifically Gallo-Roman hearth religious beliefs, the Lares (Lar singular) is a good place to start. They're the equivalent of Agathos Daimon in Greek religion (Hellenism). Essentially, they're personal household deities that are connected to the hearth.

A majority of the information we have about the Gaelic culture and the eventual melding of the Gallo-Roman culture stems from two sources: artifacts and Julius Ceasar, who wrote all about in what we now call the "Commentarii de Bello Gallico". The gods that he mentions the Gauls worship (like Jupiter, Mercury, Mars, and Minerva) aren't really the Roman gods that the Gauls are worshipping at that time but rather the closest thing Ceasar can connect. For example, Caesar may say that the Gauls worshipped Mars, when in reality they were worshipping Lenus, a healing god that quickly became associated with Mars because of Caesar and the Roman Empire. However, not all of them were caught. Gobannus is the most well-known example we have, with him being the equivalent to the Roman god Vulcan or the Greek god Hephaestus and yet Caesar makes no comment on the Gaulish god.

One other thing, the specific time we are taking a look at was prior to the overtaking by the Anglos, Saxons, and Jutes (aka pre-Anglo-Saxon times). Because of this, Germanic (Norse) gods weren't known to these people yet. Odin, Thor, and Freyja were unknown to them at this point in time.

Other than that, the last thing I can give to you are articles and books that I stumbled upon that may pique your interest. I do recommend a couple of Wikipedia links, but just know that I recommend using Wikipedia as a jumping-off point. Hope this helps! :^)

Becoming Roman: the origins of provincial civilization in Gaul -- Greg Woolf https://archive.org/details/becomingromanori0000wool

The gods of the Celts -- Miranda Green https://archive.org/details/godsofceltsar00mira

Gallo-Roman Religious Sculptures -- A.N. Newell https://www.jstor.org/stable/640758

Fifth-Century Gaul: A Crisis of Identity? -- John Drinkwater & Elton Hugh https://www.loc.gov/catdir/samples/cam031/91018375.pdf

Caesar's Commentaries on the Gallic War: literally translated -- Frederick Holland Dewey, A.B. https://archive.org/details/caesarscommentar07caes

Category:Gaulish gods -- Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Gaulish_gods

Category:Gaulish goddesses -- Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Gaulish_goddesses

sources: https://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/1999/1999.10.34/ http://www.deomercurio.be/en/dii.html https://www.britannica.com/topic/Celtic-religion/The-Celtic-gods https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lares https://www.britannica.com/topic/Lar-Roman-deities https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gallo-Roman_culture https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gallo-Roman_religion

[mikewxrren]

Undercover Profile for prison thread with @rxcklessdxvotion

Prisoner #13L1287, Michael Longabaugh AKA 'Sundance'

Convicted August 22, 2013 - Aggravated assault in the first degree; Aiding and abetting; False Imprisonment; Kidnapping; Menacing; Intimidation

Sentence: 15 years, up for parole in 2.

Criminal Profile

1. Suspected for smuggling weapons from Camp Pendleton. No charges pressed. Marine corps dealt with case internally.

2. Sold highly controlled, stolen weapons to major crime boss, Jeremiah Bello. Charged, found guilty.

3. Aided in the sustained torture of ███████ ██████, a former Caza Cartel hitman. Charged, found guilty.

4. Escaped from police custody while in hospital for treatment. No charges pressed.

5. Suspected for the murder of Federale Rafael Cortes AKA 'Jangles'/'El Hombre Llaves'. No charges pressed.

Psychological Profile

Michael Longabaugh makes a show of being openly receptive to treatment. However, he shows distrust of psychiatrists and has a deep knowledge of how psychological treatment works. This leads me to believe that his openness is just an act. During our initial discussions, I also observed several traits that led me to suspect Michael has Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. However, an official assessment would be required before treatment could be suggested. Michael seems capable of making calm, reasonable decisions and rarely acts out of impulse. He takes offence to the suggestion that he is cold or unsympathetic. I believe he is very conflicted between the man he pretends to be and the man he is expected to be. This mix is volatile when found in an inmate with his history and intelligence.

-- Prison Psychiatrist, Sister Reimondo

Known Associates

Jeremiah Bello. After Longabaugh sold smuggled weapons to Bello, he was hired as Bello's bodyguard and second in command. Bello has previously shown loyalty and protectiveness toward Longabaugh.

Unknown, AKA 'Odin'. Longabaugh is suspected to be close to the infamous dealer 'Odin'. The nature of the relationship is unknown. It is suspected that Odin was Longabaugh's original contact with Bello.

████ ███████ ███ ████████. Ex-Navy seal. Believed to be dead.

█████████ ███████. Civilian friend.

Reason for Transfer

12th May 2013

Shortly after the morning count, inmate Jeremiah Bello got into a heated argument with ████ ████████████, the leader of one of the gangs within the prison. Witnesses state the subject could have either been anything from money owed for narcotics or simply respect. Michael Longabaugh worsened the situation when he physically pushed himself between Bello and ████████████. It is unclear who landed the first blow, but with Longabaugh's long track record and unwillingness to cooperate, we suspect that he instigated the violence. The fight spread through the unit, nearly causing a riot but Correctional Officers had the situation under control quickly. It is the fourth incident of its type involving Longabaugh in the last month.

-- Head Correctional Officer, Martin Jameson

[mikewxrren]

Briggs laughed as he dug into his meal. ‘Me?’ He licked the juices from his thumb, facing forwards as they talked. ‘Nah, Bello didn’t give me a cute little-’

‘Odin,’ Mike said. ‘Bello called Briggs here Odin.’ The three men fell silent as if Mike had just put his foot in something. But he still had that cocky little grin that said he wasn’t sorry.

‘Yeah. Well, that doesn’t matter now. He now calls you that ‘Bastard Smokey Bear’.’

Briggs and Mike shared a look, then turned to Jakes when Aya protested about her portion.

‘Hey, that’s what she could afford.’

‘Here, you can have some of mine,’ Mike said, ignoring Briggs and Jakes as they began to bicker.

There was a weight of tension through the car. Jakes wanted to be somewhere else. Mike squirmed with resentment that Briggs had been following them since they left the second bar together. And Briggs seemed to have fifty secret things on his mind that no one was privy to.

But they eventually pulled up outside a huge California mansion. ‘This is us,’ Mike said.

Aya didn’t know whether it was because she was somehow still completely off track or because she really had no idea what they were talking about, but instead of asking, she just shrugged her shoulders questioningly.

“Sundance? Sounds cute. And who were you? What were you called?” she asked Briggs, who then handed her something to eat. However, when she compared her portion with Mike’s, she grimaced in disappointment.

“…What does that mean? Just because I look like I don’t eat much doesn’t mean it’s true.” Nevertheless, she let go of Mike’s hand to devote herself entirely to her burrito. “Shit, I expect a fucking awesome breakfast for this…”

[diveronarpg]

In fair Verona, our tale begins with ODIN BELLO, who is THIRTY-FOUR years old. He is often called OTHELLO by the CAPULETS and works as their CAPTAIN. He uses HE/HIM pronouns.

TW: ABUSE

He believed that cruelty was bred in his BONES. No one could fault him for such a belief – the evidence was there, before his very eyes. It was there when he awoke to his mother’s weary gaze, new bruises blooming across her skin. It was there when he went to sleep, his father’s lecherous sneer branding the back of his neck as he reached for another bottle. But he believed that kindness was there too, quieter than the cruelty, yet it was all the more consistent. It was in his mother’s gentle hands, softly brushing his hair back as she rocked him to sleep. It was there, in his own hands, as they bled from fending off street rats from beating a stray dog. So there it was in his very making, a juxtaposition of CRUELTY and KINDNESS woven into the sinews of his skin and bone. He has his mother’s smile, and his father’s eyes, they whisper as he passes his peers in the streets. Which do you think he’ll turn out to be?they murmur, eyes darting between his mother’s purpled wrists and his father’s hard stare.Which will I turn out to be?, he wonders. His God above refused to tell him. His demons below refused to let him hear the end of it. And so he went in search of the answer himself.

He graduated his class with high honors and enlisted himself in the army. Cruelty and kindness were practiced in balance, meant to evoke a subsequent HARMONY – a perfect place for a boy like him to utilize what was bred into him in equal measure. But then he began to grow reckless, the structure of such a place suddenly feeling constricting, the order that it demanded became rather suffocating. But he refused to quit, believing that this was the only place where he could ever find harmony. Such a far-fetched idea for a CURSED one, such as he. The army that he had bled for honorably discharged him, his superior officers assuring him that it was for his own good. So he returned home with his head bowed, frustration with God’s plans for him ever-more apparent on his features. The smile ghosted across his face less easily, the laughter that once charmed so many now flew from his lips sharp and edged. He had the answer to his question in his very grasp, but, of course, it was STOLEN away.

So, he tried to steal it back by establishing a life in Verona. It seemed that, in a city laden with WEALTH and BLOOD, he would find himself at peace. There were those who said that the city turned its back on strangers, its barbed thorns meant to ward off those who dared to step onto its hollowed streets. But the name he had established for himself preceeded him, the Veronans welcoming him into their embrace as if he had been a bambino running in the streets with all the other children. A noble man, they cheered, a hero. And so he donned the uniform of an officer of the law and became their protector, their knight in shining armor. They saw the kindness that hung at the edge of his eyes, the fairness that was at the source of his every action. And so he made a home for himself in Verona, found himself warming to the likes of the Capulets and – eventually – being accepted as one of them. Then, he fell in love. He was swept by Eros’ heady perfume when he met her, the woman that ENSNARED his heart.

There were whispers that his wife was cheating on him, small hints here and there – mostly those egged on by his confidante, Ivan. But then he began to see past the VEIL that he had cast over his own eyes – he was a man of cruelty, was he not? How had he forgotten the roots that had steeped themselves into the sinews of his being? So, amidst the accusations that tore from his lips – and those of others – he left what he called his heart and his home, isolating himself with contacts in Spain before any could see the DESCENT of the man that all of Verona had called a hero. Alas, one can only resist the harkening cry of the city before being pulled back into its mantle, and he was no exception. He returned not as an officer of justice, but as a soldier, or perhaps as cannon fodder. There is war permeating the air, and in war all must become soldiers and be ready to entrench themselves in blood. All must learn a little bit of cruelty in a time where there is no room for kindness. All must learn to be a little kind in a time where the world only knows to be cruel. 

DELILAH BELLO: Ex-wife. He had loved her – and, though he denies it, he still does. But his head was insinuating one thing, his heart contesting with another, and before he knew it there was a disarray that caused unforgivable doubts and grievances to pour from his mouth. He knew of the affect that it would have on her status and reputation, but there was a poison that had beset him and he was helpless to think clearly. But he has made his peace with it, for she was far too gentle and far too kind to Odin, who knew such virtues only in moderation. There will be the day when he will atone for the sins that he had committed against her. Until that day comes, however, he will try to take the lessons he has learned from her. He will try to be kind. 

PANDORA PHAN: Target. If there was anyone who could possibly be his equal in intellect and strategy, it would be Pandora. She matches him wit for wit, but he matches her blow by blow. Though she is an emissary, and he a soldier, he longs to tear her down so as to make her demise his crowning achievement. He will corrupt the incorruptible, tear down the pedestal of the infallible. Cosimo Capulet put his faith in the stranger of Verona for a reason, and all Odin has to do one simple thing, do as he does best: dust his hands with dirt, dip them into blood.

BELLAMY SANTO-DOMINGO: Partner/Confessor. When he became a professional bodyguard upon his return to Verona, he had hoped that his partner would be understanding. He had also hoped that such a person would be a Capulet. Unfortunately, only one of his two wishes was properly fulfilled. Although he and Bellamy got along well enough, Odin is careful to play his cards just right so as to get this Montague to flip. He plays the part of a broken-hearted man, a hero who has fallen but is trying to make amends. A couple of well placed words here, pathetic moments of bonding there – and soon enough, the Montagues heart will be tied to his fingers and he will be able to play him like a docile, thick-headed puppet.

IVAN RAHAL: Poison. He has been a fixture in his life. They both grew up in the same hometown, both enlisted at the same time and went on the same tours together. Ivan has been a faithful friend and Odin could never fault him for the transgressions that have occurred between them. But, as of late, he wonders if his beloved friend truly does have his best interests at heart. It was he who told him of Delilah’s faithlessness, of the offenses she has whispered against him. He isn’t sure if he’s capable of making such accusations, for this man was practically his brother, but Abel was betrayed by Cain. So is it really so far-fetched as to believe that this man intends to draw blood from him too?

Odin is portrayed by YAHYA ABDUL MATEEN II and was written by ROSEY. He is currently OPEN.

[aceofwhump]

what do you think of the relationship between Mike and Briggs?

Ooooh man do I have feelings about them. Mostly anger. At Briggs. After Paige, he's my least favorite character purely because of how he treats Mike and Charlie. He spends soooo much time manipulating the crap out of them both but let's focus on Mike. The one thing I really really cannot forgive is the way Briggs uses Mike's near death experience and subsequent addiction in season 3 to manipulate Mike into a worthless, made-up investigation just to save his own ass. He tricks Mike into investigating Gusti which leads him to being kidnapped and falling deeper into his addiction thanks to Gusti's girlfriend. He tricks him into getting clean by using his near death vision. Like, okay I'm glad Mike got clean but was so not okay to do that Briggs. It's infuriating and I hate him for it. How dare he use Mike's trauma against him! I literally screamed in triumph when Mike finally punched Briggs in the face at the end of the season. But also in previous seasons, Briggs pulls similar crap! Like when he legitimately contemplated MURDERING Mike because he thought he found out he was Odin. He was gonna murder him! HE TRIED TO MURDER MIKE! And then the sauce night episode!!! After putting Mike in the situation with Bello he saw a man shoot himself in the head and then Briggs is basically like "get over it" and left Mike near sobbing at the sink. I fucking hated him in that moment.

Annnnnd I rambled quite a bit there. Apparently I have FEELINGS about him. Briggs has some good moments but overall he really pisses me off and I feel that both Mike and the house would have been better off without him in it. I mean Mike was sent to the house to investigate him.

[aristoteliancomplacency]

Re: Odin and Mercury (+ a huge caveat that I am not a comparative mythologist. It’s one of those fields (like etymology) that’s obviously valid but also has a lot of dubious bullshit in it and I am not familiar enough with it all to be able to know if a specific author is known for bs or decent material. (I do have opinions on Dumézil tho)).

Tacitus (Germania 9) interprets Odin as Mercury and claims that he is worshipped above all, and that they (the peoples of Germania) make human sacrifices to him. He doesn’t explain why he makes that interpretatio, though. But he’s the earliest (surviving) sources (afaik) for it. So probably a bit of a mess to figure out which later sources are just drawing on Tacitus when they say shit like ‘Odin who others call Mercury’.

However, Tacitus appears to be citing Caesar (De Bello Gallico 6.17.1) who is talking about the Gauls. (‘They worship as their divinity, Mercury in particular, and have many images of him, and regard him as the inventor of all arts, they consider him the guide of their journeys and marches, and believe him to have great influence over the acquisition of gain and mercantile transactions.’) Possibly he (Caesar) was talking about Teutates. Lucan claims the Gauls made human sacrifices to him, but it’s in the Pharsalia which is hardly a work of history, brilliant though it may be.

Back to Mercury, though…

Rolf H Bremmer wrote a chapter on ‘Hermes-Mercury and Woden-Odin as Inventors of Alphabets: a neglected parallel’ in Old English Runes and their Continental Background (online here, if you want to read it). He’s drawing on the Eddic poem Hávamál for Odin… inventing (?) runes when he hanged himself for 9 days, and for the Roman comparison to Mercury he’s pointing specifically to Hermes-Trismagistos. Which seems like a stretch to me, if you’re having to go that far. We’re not exactly talking mainstream, there.

Also he cites Frazer’s Golden Bough and thinks there’s ‘ample evidence’ of human sacrifice to Odin via the hanging + spearing. Which, like. There’s not. There’s some evidence, certainly, of human sacrifice. But the sources that are like ‘they killed lots of people and they hung them from treeeees!’ are Christian. Sooo like. They have an agenda.

tl;dr: I think Bremmer’s probably bull.

It seems like there might be something useful in Simek’s Dictionary of Northern Mythology. Unfortunately it’s not on archive.org or Libgen, but my library has it and I’m happy to go look for stuff if you want.

Instead of doing immediately-useful things, my evening's been spent using my 1950s Welsh dictionary to try and work out what the month words mean

Not all of them do, Ebrill is just April

And actually idk what April is from either, maybe I should get my 70s English dictionary out next

But uhhh a bit of a list?

I couldn't find anything for January/Ionawr, except that ion is Lord

Mawrth/March is after Mars, the god

Mai just says May, but there's a listing above that says "mai - that it is"

Gorffennaf/July - gorffen is "end", so gorffen af, gorffen haf, "end of the summer"??

Medi/September - medi is "to reap" - harvest month!

Hydref/October - autumn!

The closest I got to December, Rhagfyr is rhagof, "before thee" - the. The one before January?? Idk my Welsh isn't good enough I can speculate on centuries-old word mutations

Days of the week, I had a look for too

They're mostly named for gods, same as the English ones

Tuesday/Mawrth, Mars (same as March) - in English this is for Tyr

Wednesday/Mercher, Mercury - in English this is for Odin, Woden's Day - the Welsh is cognate (???) with Romance languages tho, like Mercredi an such

Thursday/Iau, Jove or Jupiter - in English this is for Thor

Friday/Gwener, Venus - in English this is for Frigg

Saturday/Sadwrn, Saturn (same in English)

I haven't a listing for Sul/Sunday tho

Monday, tho, idk if this is the right root, doubt it, but Llun is "shape" "figure" or "form"

I've looked up them on Wikipedia, and that says that all these Norse gods in the Welsh are associated with the Roman gods the English ones are named for, which is interesting

Idk how much this is cs the book I'm looking at is 73 years old, but y'know

It's not quite exact, I spose

Like, Friday/Gwener is for Frigg (goddess of marriage), or Venus (goddess of love)

Tuesday is for Tyr (god of single combat) or Mars (god of war)

Thursday, Jove/Jupiter (sky and thunder), or Thor (thunder etc) - this one matches!

Wednesday doesn't quite tho, Mercury is a messenger, god of trade, and Odin is like wisdom and battle, so far as I can tell

This is not really very interesting, unless you like etymology

I'm gonna track down my English dictionary to find out what the English months etymologies are now, cs that's like. Super useful.

[the-bleeding-typewriter]

The Silver Lining is in the Stuffed Animal

Summary: When Bello spots him and attacks him in prison, Mike is a little worse for wear. With his stitches pulled out, Charlie takes him to the hospital before they go back to Graceland. Mike, in all his painkiller-induced loopiness, is adorable. The Graceland family takes advantage of the situation to get some blackmail.

Tags: Whump, Blood, Injury, Stitches, Caretaking, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Painkillers, Humor, Hospitals, Family Fluff

[Read on Ao3]

Even though Mike had gotten stabbed, things were still salvageable. The only damn reason he’s in prison, surrounded by people that would kill and eat him at the first whiff of him being a fed, is because of the tiny sliver of hope that they can still nail Odin.

His side is killing him. The last place he wants to be is in a prison, but he’ll do this for the case and especially for Charlie. He’s thankful when she comes to visit him because a friendly face will do wonders for his nerves.

And then he sees Bello – and, more importantly, Bello sees him.

Mike definitely isn’t fast enough to move out of the man’s tackle. He and Bello go down hard, already jarring his wound, and then Bello is driving his fist into his side as hard as he can. Mike screams and tries to push against him but he can feel his stitches being pulled out. The wound opens and it’s like the maw of a beast opening only to clamp back down, sharp teeth sinking into his side. The agony radiates out from where the blood starts to seep through his shirt.

As soon as Bello is there, he’s gone, pulled off of him by the incompetent cops that let him get that close in the first place. He is replaced by Charlie and her deeply concerned expression.

“Mikey, Mike, you’re okay, just hold on,” she says as she presses down on his injury. The pressure sends more waves of pain across his nerves. Mike’s vision darkens at the edges and he chokes down another scream. “Where’s the goddamn medic?!”

He doesn’t lie on the floor for too long. A medic came and stitched him back together to keep him from bleeding out. She tells Charlie that he should go to the hospital so they can make sure everything is okay. At that point, the extra blood loss combined with the painkiller the medic encouraged him to take has Mike drifting off. At least it doesn’t hurt.

The gurney isn’t he softest thing he’s laid on but at least it isn’t the cold floor of the prison. Plus, now that he’s been made, he doesn’t have to stay in prison anymore. As he’s dozing off, Charlie comes to hover over him again. Mike feels a dopey smile cross his face.

“Hey, Chucky.” His tongue feels too thick, and his body feels far away. Then he frowns. “Odin didn’t come. M’sorry.”

“No, no he didn't,” Charlie sighs, “He wasn't...that wasn't the plan...whatever, it doesn't matter. I’m sorry, baby. I put you here. Now you’re all loopy.”

Mike smiles again. “Loopy,” he repeats, laughing.

“At least they’ve got you on the good stuff. How about we go to the hospital to make sure you’re okay and then go back home so you can properly rest?”

He can’t help but pout. Maybe if he tries to give her puppy dog eyes she’ll let him go straight home. “M’tired. Can’t we just go back home now? I feel a-okay.” To prove it, he tries to give her some dazzling jazz hands. In reality, all he can do is shake his hands around like limp noodles. The movement is somehow enough to send a vague ache shooting down his side. He winces, winded. “See?”

Charlie looks worried again. “No can do, baby boy. I promise it’ll be quick but we have to make sure Bello didn’t mess anything up.” Gently, she pokes the side sans stab wound. Mike, caught by surprise and safely cocooned in the painkillers, giggles. He can’t help it, he’s ticklish. Charlie’s expression lightens up when he does and then she grins down at him. “I didn’t know you were ticklish. Hold on,” she pulls her phone out of her back pocket, “Say hi to everyone.”

“Hi,” Mike says, dragging it out and doing his best to wave at the camera.

Charlie pokes him in the side again, and he giggles again, blissfully unaware of the little chime her phone gives as she sends the video into the Graceland group chat.

The ride to the hospital is uneventful. Mike is comfortable thanks to the painkillers that Marta, the medic, gave him. Charlie glances over at him from time to time. A knot of guilt is stuck in her stomach. If she hadn’t pushed Mike to go in, this wouldn’t have happened. The only thing that eases her guilt is when she looks over and sees Mike sleeping soundly in the passenger seat.

She feels bad that she has to wake him up when they get to the hospital. She’s leaning over him, already having gotten out of the car, one hand cupping his cheek. Charlie calls his name a couple of times before his eyelashes flutter and he’s looking up at her blearily.

Mike rubs his eyes and yawns, looks around, and then pouts. She can tell he doesn’t want to be here but is thankful when he just sighs and lets her help him out of the car. With one arm wrapped securely around his waist, the two of them make their way through the hospital doors. Charlie fills out his information the best that she can. At least his wallet had come in the bag of personal items the prison had handed off to them so that she could get his insurance down.

While they wait, Mike rests his head on her shoulder. He mumbles something about the waiting room chairs being too uncomfortable. The bright side is that this gives her more time to document Mike when he’s a relaxed goofball.

Charlie whips her phone out again. There are about thirty messages from the group chat, all because of that thirty second video she had sent of Mike being all giggly. She sees that everyone has saved the video and is clamoring for more installments.

Instead of trying to embarrass Mike some more, Charlie decides to send a selfie. Mike throws up a wobbly peace sign when he sees the camera. She snaps the picture and sends it to the chat. Mike buries his face deeper in her shoulder. Charlie takes that as a very needy sign that he wants affection.

Charlie brushes one hand through his soft brown hair and uses the other to inform the others about the situation. One she tells them that they’re at the hospital and that it shouldn’t be long before they can go back to Graceland, she opens the selfie again. It’s a good picture. Her heart melts at the sight of Mike. He’s sleepy, with his eyes half-open and glassy. He’s got a big, crooked grin on his face, half-smushed into Charlie’s shoulder. She can’t help it – she turns and presses a kiss into Mike’s hair. He hums quietly. Then, a nurse comes out of a set of double doors and calls his name.

When the nurse, whose tag reads Joseph, sees that Mike is mostly passed out on Charlie, he comes over to them. “Are you with Mr.Warren?”

“Yeah, could you give me a hand? He can walk, he’ll just need a whole lot of help.”

Joseph nods and says, “I’ll take the left, you take the right, and we’ll both be very careful. Sound good, Mr.Warren?”

Mike says mmph and apparently calls it a day on actually talking. At least Charlie can answer the nurse’s questions. The three of them carefully and slowly make their way to an examination room. Joseph puts on some gloves and palpates Mike’s abdomen and then does an ultrasound to check for fluid. Charlie holds Mike’s hand in hers and does her best to keep him calm when he complains about being touched. She rakes her eyes over the laceration, stained red from the blood, with the black stitches standing out.

Joseph leans back in his chair when he’s satisfied. “Everything looks good. The worst of it was the blood loss from his stitches being pulled. There are no internal injuries. You’re free to go home and rest up.”

Charlie thanks the nurse. He grabs a wheelchair for them, which Mike isn’t happy about but Charlie sure is. Though he has a lean figure, Mike is packing some muscle and that means he isn’t exactly light. Plus, with the lack of coordination, it’s a miracle that Charlie didn’t drop him on the way into the hospital.

Mike conks out as soon as he’s seated in the car. When Charlie pulls into the driveway, she calls Briggs so that he can help get Mike inside.

By the time Briggs appears in the driveway, Charlie has coaxed Mike out of the car to lean heavily against it. Relief washes over her when she finally spots him. Though he looks worried, Paul smiles when he sees the two of them. He jogs over and pulls them into a quick hug.

“Hey, Levi. How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“Alright then how about we get you inside quick?”  Without waiting for a response, Paul scoops Mike up into his arms. He’s careful but quick and gentle enough that Mike doesn’t fight him.

“Mmm.” Mike’s head lolls into Paul’s shoulder. “Fine,” he says petulantly and slurring heavily, “Just get me to the couch.” Then he pats Paul’s head.

Again, Charlie snaps a quick picture, this time grinning from ear to ear. She sends it in the chat as they make their way into the house. Inside, Johnny and Paige are chatting in the living room. When they see Paul with Mike in his arms, they stand and come to meet them.

“How is he?” Paige looks at Paul and Charlie.

“He is fine,” Mike breathes out. “Puh med’n,” he mutters.

“Bro, I have no idea what you just said,” Johnny laughs.

“Put. Me. Down.” Any ounce of threat in his voice is undermined by how comfortable he looks. He doesn’t even move his head from Paul’s shoulder.

Paul sets him down on the nearest couch. Mike cuddles into the pillows. Charlie goes to sit with him while Johnny sits on the other couch. Paige goes upstairs and returns with a blanket.

“I’m sorry, babe. I shouldn’t have put you in there.”

Without opening his eyes, Mike says, “S’fine. Shh. Don’ worry.” He reaches out blindly for her hand. Once he finds it, he squeezes once, weakly, and then his face slackens. His breathing evens out.

Charlie sighs and ever so slowly retracts her hand. Paige takes the opportunity to drape the blanket over Mike and tuck him in. Then she grins and races back upstairs. She returns yet again, this time with a stuffed animal in her hands. Paige sets the little brown bear right where Mike’s open palm is. After a moment, Mike squeezes it to his chest in his sleep.

“Oh, God,” Johnny whispers, “This is too much.” It looks like he’s simultaneously going to burst out in cackles and melt into the floor. Charlie can’t help but feel the same. It’s cute and hilarious, but if she’s being honest, it’s mostly cute.

In unison, the four of them take their phones out and snap a picture. All four pictures are sent into the group chat.

Mike cuddles his bear a little closer.

[ivanrahal]

date: april 17th, 2015 time: late evening location: the dark lady closed to: @odinbellc​

He’s heard stories about this place, but none, no matter how glorious, no matter how grandiose, hold a candle to the truth of it. It’s a marvel, really—some mirage plucked straight from the minds of every Veronese who ever wanted, who ever wished. Resplendent in shades of rich golds and reds, dancers draped in Parisian lace, air thick with perfumes and spices. It’s a fantasy catered to tickle the human appetite, a nightmare so pretty that its patrons no doubt mistake it for a daydream. But Ivan himself is well-versed in the stuff of nightmares, and he sees Madam Chen’s temple for what it is: a snake pit.

The perfect fucking place for Odin Bello’s bachelor party.

The Sparrow dancing on the small stage before him leans forward to brush a hand across his cheek, but Ivan catches and releases her wrist before she makes contact. “I’m afraid I’m not the guest of honor tonight, little bird.” He jerks his chin at Odin, seated just beside him on the velvet loveseat. “Your attentions belong to him,” he drawls, one corner of his mouth hiked impishly. “He’s getting married, you know,” he tells the Sparrow. Her eyes, a lovely shade of green, are already trained on Odin, and a sly smile parts her full lips. She’s happy, he can tell, that Odin is her new target, and not Ivan. He’s always had a way about him, Odin—a likability that traps flies like honey, a distinct charisma that fosters trust, safety. A charming foil to Ivan’s unnerving otherness. They make a fine pair, the two of them, like night and day, or lightning and thunder, each a lovely complement to the other.

“He’ll be an honest man by this time tomorrow.” His smile, now full of mischief, doubles in size as he turns to face Odin. “But it’s not tomorrow yet, is it?” he asks, making a show of checking his watch. The Sparrow seems emboldened by that. She slinks over to the edge of the stage (about as close to Odin as she can get without mounting him) and peers down at the groom-to-be with an eager smile and bright eyes that practically scream daddy issues. Sweet, stupid thing. She must be new here. 

She’s looking at Odin now like he hung the fucking sun in the sky, and Ivan has to cough into his elbow to muffle his laughter. Simpering, he holds his palms up in mock defense, mouthing a coy ‘sorry’ to Odin.

[grimorio--wiccan]

Queridos hermanas/os lamentamos estar ausentes tanto tiempo , han sido meses de mucho trabajo y mudanza. Muchos besos  por parte de Luna y mia . Dejo aqui un lindo post encontrado en amino que me encanto 

El anillo mágico de Tove

Nunca se conoció un amor tan grande como el que sentía el rey Valdemar por la pequeña Tove, se dice que nunca hubo sobre la faz de las tierras del norte un soberano que amase tanto a su hija. Tan grande era este cariño, que cuando murió, el soberano no quiso que enterrasen el cadáver, sino que lo hizo embalsamar y lo mando guardar en una sala del gran Hoff próxima a su habitación y se dice que todas las noches visitaba a la niña antes de conciliar el sueño

. Y cuando salía de viaje por el reino hacía que condujesen el cadáver en su compañía, por lejos que fuese y tortuoso que fuese el camino. Los cortesanos estaban cansados del capricho del Rey y se esforzaban en adivinar la causa de tan gran amor.Muchos empezaron a creer que el monarca habia perdido la razon, pero nadie se atrevia a contrariar al soberano.

Uno de ellos descubrió al fin un dia que estaba engalanando el cadaver de la muchacha que a la pequeña Tove su madre le había dado un anillo encantado con un poderoso hechizo de ligazon para asegurarle el amor del Rey aun después de su muerte. El cortesano guardo este secreto, hasta que fue una noche al catafalco donde yacía Tove y le quitó el anillo encantado de su dedo.

A la mañana siguiente el Rey preguntó:

- ¿Por qué no se ha dado aún sepultura a la pequeña Tove? No podemos tener en nuestra compañía un cadáver. Hay que dar a la tierra lo que es de la tierra. Aunque mi corazon se desgarre al verla partir a un lugar donde jamas vovere a contemplar su bello rostro.

Y dio orden a sus cortesanos de que enterrasen el cadáver antes tan amado y del que no se quería separar. Y grande fue el dolor y la pompa de aquel entierro en el tumulo de los reyes.

Aquella misma mañana el Rey notó que uno de los cortesanos le era mucho más simpático que anteriormente. Y empezo a tenerle como favorito entre todo el resto de la corte Y concibió por él un amor tan grande, que lo elevó a los cargos más importantes del reino, e hizo que comiese en un sillón de la misma altura y dignidad que el suyo. Nadie entendia como aquel que hasta aquel dia solo habia sido un lacayo, ahora era casi tratado con la dignidad de un principe.

Pero este cortesano se sentía atormentado por los remordimientos, pues sabía que su elevación a cargos de tanta importancia no se debía a sus méritos, sino a la virtud del anillo encantado. Al mismo tiempo sufría por la crítica y comentarios de los demás cortesanos, que no sabían a qué era debida una carrera tan brillante. Al fin, el cortesano salió una noche de Palacio y arrojó el anillo en medio de un lago que estaba en el bosque de Gurre.

Desde entonces el Rey sintió tanto agrado por este lugar, que no quiso habitar en otra parte. Hizo construir en medio de las aguas, un gran salon rodeado de una solida empalizada que tenía comunicación con tierra por medio de un puente maravilloso de cobre batido. Tanto, le gustaba vivir allí, que con frecuencia decía que Odin podía guardarse su Valhalla si no le privaba de la posesión de su Hoff de Gurre.

Pero estas palabras irreverentes fueron la causa del castigo del Rey. Odin monto en colera privó a su alma del descanso, y después de su muerte lo condenó a vivir siempre allí y a errar en las tinieblas de la noche, cazando por los bosques. Muchas noches se le oye aún pasar en medio de un griterío infernal, seguido de un tropel de ginetes....y muchos aseguran que es frecuente ver a la caceria salvaje de Allfather sobre el lago y su islote, donde se dice que aun mora el alma del Rey, hasta que Odin logre darle caza.

[mcl-luce]

DF - All’università Episodio 11 Guida

- Risultato negativo / Risultato neutro + Risultato positivo / o +  Significa che il mio Lov’o’metro con quel personaggio è al massimo, ciò vuol dire che il risultato può essere sia neutro che positivo.

Punti Azione: 1.500 massimo

Illustrazioni: 5 in totale, una per ogni ragazzo. E’ possibile prendere 1 illustrazione per giocata. Se volete l’illustrazione con la vostra crush bisogna avere il lov’o’metro più alto con lui/lei, con il colpo di fulmine.

La zia: Si trova in mensa prima di andare a scegliere le tenute/cambiarsi.

Soldi: - 185 $ Pantaloni in pelle con camicia a quadri: Rayan/Nath - 190 $ Abito nero: Castiel - 190 $ Short strappati e t-shirt: Hyun/Priya

~ Passiamo la serata con Chani.

Chani: A. Sembra che le cose vadano meglio tra te e Yeleen? È grazie alla presentazione? + B. Grazie per avermi portata qui. È vero che uscire fa bene. /

A. (So che Chani non dirà niente…) + B. No… Mi dispiace, davvero non posso. /

~ Tornate in camera.

Yeleen: A. No, non un granché. + B. Ho solo voglia di andare a dormire. C. Hmm… E tu? +

ll pacco si trova davanti al liceo Dolce Amoris.

~ Tornate al campus.

Melody: A. Sì, ma non resto molto. B. Ma certo! / C. A proposito, sei riuscita a finire la tua parte della presentazione sui vichinghi? +

Street art: 1. Ingresso università, sul muro. 2. Bar Cosy Bear Cafe, vicino l’insegna in alto a sinistra 3. Parco, per terra

Se si ha Rayan come love interest:

Rayan: A. Sì professore, ne ho trovati tre. È davvero una lezione molto interessante. + B. Sì, fatto. Grazie per il messaggio che mi hai mandato ieri… / C. Non so se parlare qui sia una buona idea… -

A. Stai cercando di dirmi che vuoi che smettiamo di vederci? / B. No, ma stai scherzando? C. Capisco. /

Alexy: A. Ho visto che hai lasciato il gruppo di conversazione… B. Mi dispiace per quello che è successo ieri. +

A. Io credo invece che ci sia molto da dire, è solo un malinteso! / B. Avete solo bisogno di un po' di tempo tutti e due. Tu... + C. Non era il momento giusto per parlare di adozione, lei era…

~ A casa di Rosalya.

A. Come ti senti…? / B. Venendo, ho incontrato Alexy qui sotto… Sembrava preoccupato. C. Credevo che saresti rimasta più a lungo in ospedale… Ma sono felice di vederti in piedi. +

A. (Le ho mostrato una foto di lei e Leigh.) - B. (Ho tirato fuori una foto di Nath.)

~Tornate in camera.

Se si ha come love interest Nathaniel:

A. No, ma stai scherzando? Mi prendi in giro! Mi prendi per una delle ragazze che passano nel tuo letto senza neanche sapere come ti chiami?  B. So cosa stai per dire. Ho sentito abbastanza… (Con un nodo in gola mi sono alzata per prendere la direzione del campus.) + C. Stai cercando di dirmi che è finita? Che significa che tu non "puoi"? 

A. Dimmi che quel bacio non ha nessuna importanza per te. Dimmi che non hai provato niente. + B. Benissimo. C. E io che ci credevo. Non commetterò più lo stesso errore.

A. (Non m'importa, voglio cercare di raggiungerlo. Voglio capire.) / B. (Gli ho mandato un messaggio.) / C. (Sono entrata nel campus.) /

Se si ha come love interest Hyun:

A. Tornavo in camera, tutto qui. Perché? B. Sei sicuro che vada tutto bene? / C. Sabato, è stato davvero bello… Non ho smesso di pensarci.

A. Neanch'io lavoro questa settimana, Clementina mi ha mandato una mail con il planning ma non mi ha iscritta. B. Sei sicuro che va tutto bene? È come se qualcosa fosse cambiato. - C. Ci rivediamo presto?

A. (Forse dovrei scrivergli un messaggio...) / B. (Era di partenza, forse non era il momento giusto per parlare. Aspetterò il suo ritorno, si vedrà.) /

Se si ha come love interest Priya:

A. S-sì,  certo, a dopo. / B. Anche a me avrebbe fatto piacere passare una serata pizza con te… C. No, lascia perdere… A quanto pare hai cose più importanti da fare.

A. (Ho voglia di scriverle un messaggio!) / B. (Ho esitato a scriverle, ma no… L'ho già fatto ieri sera, non voglio peggiorare le cose, basta così. Prima o poi mi risponderà.) /

Messaggio Rayan: A. (Ho voglia di scrivergli un messaggio. Rifiuto che tutto finisca con questa discussione.) / B. (Uff… ho spento il cellulare. Cercherò di dormire.) /

Messaggio Castiel: A. (Gli mando un altro messaggio, vedremo…) / B. (Ho dato una scorsa ai commenti… Sono tutte pazze di lui. Dopo un po' ho spento il cellulare.) /

Kim: A.Ah, ok… Ottimo! / B. Sono stupita nel vederti collaborare con Ambra. / C. Scusami se non vengo spesso in palestra…

Ambra: A. Dimmi un po’, hai qualche novità su Nathaniel? / B. Quindi sarai la nuova testimonial della palestra a quanto pare! /

~ Andiamo a lezione.

Melody: A. Durante il corso dell'età vichinga, che va dal VII secolo fino all'VIII secolo della nostra era. B. Durante il corso dell'età vichinga, che va dal XVII secolo fino all'XVIII secolo della nostra era. C. Durante il corso dell'età vichinga, che va dall' VIII secolo fino all'XI secolo della nostra era. +

A. Gli stili di Oseberg, Borre e Jelling. + B. Gli stili di Dingwall, Elinor e Fergus. C. Gli stili di Odin, Frigg e Thor.

~ Usciamo con Chani.

Chani: A. Peccato. Vieni andiamo al campus in una delle nostre camere, staremo bene lo stesso. B. Non riusciremo mai ad entrare. C. Proviamoci, non abbiamo nulla da perdere.

Castiel: A. Bene Chani, vieni, lasciamo stare. B. Strano, eppure conosco molto bene qualcuno che viene spesso qui, un certo... Nathaniel! Non le dice nulla? - C. Ah ma certamente, hai dato i nostri soprannomi Chani! Ci scusi, dovremmo esserci iscritte come Maria e Paola. +

Chani: A.C-cosa? Credi davvero? Sei sicura? + B. Sono solo delle idee. C. Se solo fosse vero. /

Se non avete Castiel come love interest:

A. Il video era incredibile. Ancora non posso credere al successo che avete avuto. Ci credi? / B. Sto bene sì, e tu?  C. Tutto ok, grazie ancora per averci fatto entrare. Prima di arrivare pensavamo che sarebbe stata la solita serata allo Snake Room. +

A. Hmm, preferisco un altro piccolo gruppo, ma non credo che tu lo conosca, si chiama Crowstorm. / B. È fantastico! + C. Devo ascoltare più brani per capire se mi piace davvero. -

A. Una notte.. senza un domani intendi? / B. E’ una prospettiva interessante… / C. (Ho subito tirato via la mano per evitare le sue carezze.) /

A. N-no…No. (Tornerete al campus per incontrare la vostra crush!) B. Mi stai tentando…

Se avete Castiel come love interest:

A. Intendi dopo che mi hai baciata davanti ai tuoi fan senza farti più vivo per una settimana?  B. Sì, tutto bene. + C. Sinceramente non mi aspettavo di non avere tue notizie dopo la nostra serata insieme? Tu come stai? -

A. Hmm, preferisco un altro piccolo gruppo, ma non credo che tu lo conosca, si chiama Crowstorm. / B. È fantastico! + C. Devo ascoltare più brani per capire se mi piace davvero. -

A. Una notte.. senza un domani intendi? / B. E’ una prospettiva interessante… + C. (Ho subito tirato via la mano per evitare le sue carezze.) -

A. N-no…No.  B. Mi stai tentando… +

Appuntamento Rayan:

A. Quindi mi stai dicendo che hai cambiato idea sulla questione? + B. Sei venuto per girare il coltello nella piaga? C. Non ti da fastidio sapere che Chani ne è al corrente?

A. No, te lo proibisco. Ami questo lavoro più di ogni altra cosa, non lascerai mai l'università a causa mia! + B. Davvero? Ne sei certo? Sarai capace di fare questo per me? C. In ogni caso, se vogliamo iniziare qualcosa insieme, è l’unica soluzione. O io o tu, dobbiamo lasciare questo posto.

A. Ma io ne ho voglia invece. / B. Non abbiamo scelta. +

Appuntamento Nath:

A. Posso sapere perché mi stavi aspettando? Credevo che non dovevamo vederci più, invece adesso ti trovo davanti la mia porta?! B. Ha fatto bene. Buona notte Nath. C. Sono contenta di vederti. +

A. Sono ancora qui, non vedi? + B. Nath, devi assolutamente andare dalla polizia, poco importa quanto ti possa costare. C. Non posso credere che tu abbia fatto questo... Come...

Appuntamento Hyun:

A. Ho la stessa reazione ogni volta che ti vedo. + B. Mi rassicura... Ho avuto così tanta paura che ti fossi pentito per sabato. C. Non devi entrare in panico quando mi vedi, sono io.

A. Mi dispiace molto aver creduto che tu avessi cambiato idea rispetto a sabato scorso... Ma tra l'assenza di messaggi e il resto, mi sono fatta delle idee... B. Sono davvero contenta che tu sia tornato prima per vedermi, grazie. C. Hai lasciato la tua famiglia per venire a trovarmi, dev'essere stata una decisione importante. +

A. Sì... Mi piacerebbe tantissimo. + B. Dormire davvero? O... C. Puoi restare se vuoi, non mi disturbi.

Appuntamento Priya:

A. Ero sorpresa di non avere più tue notizie, durante tutta la settimana... + B. Non sei con... "Tara" stasera? C. Perché volevi vedermi?

A. È stato... è stato assurdo, non mi sono ancora ripresa. + B. Non avevo tue notizie, nonostante i miei messaggi, mi sono davvero preoccupata. E vederti con Tara non mi ha affatto aiutata. C. Non so... Devo viverlo ancora per capire che cosa è successo dentro di me.

A. Se iniziamo a vedere qualcosa rischio di addormentarmi, sono stanca morta. B. Voglio solo stare con te... poco importa quello che facciamo. + C. L'idea delle serie non è niente male!

[pangeanews]

Bisogna raccontare Andrea Zanzotto per capire chi siamo stati, cosa dobbiamo proteggere. Sul “Filò” di Silvio Castiglioni

Il testo più longevo. Forse il più bello o forse no, poco importa: non si allontaniamo dal vero se pensiamo che sia quello più sentito, più sincero. Perché Filò di Silvio Castiglioni è profondo come una radice: ha debuttato nel 2000 a Guado del Po, sulla via Francigena, e in questi anni ha camminato costantemente e con parsimonia quasi contadina. Nonostante non sia lungo la traiettoria ideale dello storico percorso che unisce Roma a Canterbury, il Mulino di Amleto di Rimini, sabato scorso, ha chiesto all’attore (e lo ha ottenuto) uno scartamento laterale: la città di Federico Fellini, comunque, è pur sempre un crocevia di storia (Ariminum, più di duemila anni fa), di viabilità (dall’Arco d’Augusto si snoda la via Flaminia che termina in Piazza del Popolo; a nord invece la Romea e la Popilia, a Ovest – circa – la via Emilia) e di tradizioni rurali.

*

Filò contiene buona parte della vita di Silvio Castiglioni: quella di uomo e quella artistica. Quella di mensch veneto, conficcato come una stella alpina – rara e bellissima – nel terriccio padano. E quella di attore: la Grande Commedia dell’Arte e i Maestri del Novecento, Bread and Puppet di Peter Schumann e Odin Teatret di Eugenio Barba per esempio ma anche Sandro Lombardi e Federico Tiezzi.

*

“Far filò”. Si faceva ‘sti tenpi andàti quando le donne contadine e montanare, in inverno, si riunivano nelle stalle per filare, quindi fare maglie e sciarpe, oppure rammendare pantaloni e calze. Chiacchiere e pissi pissi a volume medio, che tanto lì non ci sono orecchie che le scòlta, storie lunghe per tenersi compagnia e aspettare – insieme – il ritorno della bella stagione.

*

L’humus fertile delle tradizioni, la necessità ancestrale e profonda di raccontare una pagina del passato, il divertimento che nasce quando si recupera, filologicamente, fotografie che ti hanno descritto o solamente sussurrato. Anche questo è (o forse solo questo è) teatro.

*

Silvio Castiglioni si traveste da Don Chisciotte e accompagna gli spettatori nel veneto legnoso: una maschera – quella dello Zanni della Commedia dell’Arte – per mettere subito in chiaro le cose: si traversa un dialetto per arrivare dentro a una stalla di fieno, calore, memorie del sottosuolo, voci di lontani parenti.

*

Il testo di partenza, quello di Andrea Zanzotto, in realtà è un pretesto. Un pre-testo: partire dall’autore per raccontare se stessi. Nell’estate del ’76 il poeta inizia a collaborare al Casanova di Federico Fellini. Nello stesso anno viene pubblicata l’opera Filò dalle edizioni Ruzzante di Venezia che comprende la lettera di Fellini, dove dichiara le sue aspettative, i versi per il film Casanova, quelli sul dialetto e una lunga nota. Scrive Zanzotto: “Sono grato a Fellini di avermi spinto gentilmente ammiccando e quasi segnando silenzio con un dito sulle labbra, a questa breve ma per me non trascurabile discesa per scorciatoie assai precipiti, molte volte intraviste, mai praticate in precedenza proprio qui e così: con un occhio a tante deesse, dalla Testa, a Rèitia (la principale divinità, femminile, venetica, ndr), a Venezia, alla Gigantessa bambola: tutte riducibili ad una sola realtà, pur nell’immensa lontananza delle loro icone, dei loro significati, dei loro tempi”.

*

Silvio, in Filò, fa un nodo ai suoi amori regionali: il Veneto, e la Romagna (è stato Direttore artistico del Festival di Santarcangelo per diversi edizioni), e la Lombardia. In questo triangolo scaleno si muove, cammina. Vive. Non solo sul palco.

*

Si parte dal Veneto più rùstego, l’anticamera. L’accesso alla stanza dei bottoni. In quella accanto, Paolo e Paola Castiglioni preparano un risotto con il tastasàl, la carne di maiale (non la salsiccia, proprio la carne di maiale) con l‘aglio, il vino bianco, il pepe, il sale e il rosmarino. Cibo per le orecchie e cibo per il naso. Manicaretti per il cuore e manicaretti per la bocca. Cucina fusion, ma tradizionale. Come tradizionale – nel senso più nobile del termine – è questo assolo lucido di Silvio: un po’ Paolo Rumiz (tanti i luoghi che tocca con le parole, e non solo la triade Veneto-Romagna-Lombardia) un po’ Cervantes, un po’ Ruzzante certamente, ma altrettanto capace di una scrittura autonoma e personalizzata.

*

Non ingannino le maschere indossate da Castiglioni: il viaggio è autentico. Veneto, Milano, Siviglia, Buenos Aires, Friuli. Sulla rotta degli emigrati italiani che andavano a cercare fortuna fuori. Si va di liscio, di tango, di ricordi, di odori. E la storia raccontata, resa ancora più credibile dall’utilizzo del dialetto veneto, diventa una nave.

*

Dialetto come baluardo – come ultimo avamposto – di biodiversità. Non ieri che era la lingua madre bensì oggi: salvaguardiamolo quindi con parsimonia e calore sembra dire Silvio Castiglioni. Alcune cose vivono nell’idioma di un luogo e sono intraducibili.

*

Un cantastorie che porta in scena, accompagnato dalla fisarmonica di Beppe Chirico-Sancio Panza, il racconto della storia dell’Italia post bellica. Trent’anni “veri” che oscillano tra memoria e invenzioni, tra bocconi amari – i sogni che si hanno da piccoli raramente si realizzano – e stelle cadenti che indicano la via: l’oca che non vuole essere ammazzata, l’asino che uccide, il vecchio leone di un circo dimenticato, il maiale che viene sacrificato per sfamare la famiglia.

*

Filò funziona. Eccome se funziona: il microcosmo apparente si innalza a Storia. E a teatro, soprattutto a teatro, profuma di vero. Come il risotto col tastasàl che a fine spettacolo gli spettatori assaggiano.

Alessandro Carli

L'articolo Bisogna raccontare Andrea Zanzotto per capire chi siamo stati, cosa dobbiamo proteggere. Sul “Filò” di Silvio Castiglioni proviene da Pangea.

from pangea.news https://ift.tt/2MsbECO

[dqbello]

OVERVIEW

Monal Arora’s parents let her travel to Mumbai to be trained in classical dance, and that makes all the difference. Monal gains fame in the arts community and even in Bollywood -- she frequently starred as a guest act in films. It’s a scandal when she falls pregnant with no man in the picture but, it eventually passes. She’s still charming and loving and her daughter is far too sweet for it to last.

Delilah has never known anything about her father aside from the fact that he chose her name and that while her intuition in her classical dance classes come from her mother, her voice is her father’s. Her mother still calls her Laila at home -- she suspects that they must have loved each other deeply from the way her mother’s eyes teared up late at night when she thought no one was watching. She wants her mother to be happy, and so she stops asking about her father.

Growing up as the darling of the Bollywood world is...odd. Her mother sends her to the international schools where English is the norm and when the time comes, picks Italian for her foreign language. Upon completion of secondary school, she is sent off to London where she studies Politics & International Relations. Even Bollywood families made sure their children had back up plans. Still, Delilah is part of a cover-band all through uni and travels all across Europe in her breaks, attending every kind of concert. 

She takes a semester abroad in Italy in her final year. She meets a man with dark eyes that draw her in and unravel her. It’s a whirlwind affair that results in an elopement some months later. Her mother is furious. The fight is bad, and they both say things they regret. But when the marriage comes crashing down, Delilah flees back to India and weeps into her mother’s salwar kameez. Monal chin tilts up with something like pride when Delilah explains she won’t have to file paperwork to change her name back. She’d never taken her husband’s name in the first place.

With her mother’s contacts, she begins singing for Bollywood film soundtracks, gaining recognition after her cover of an old Bollywood song. She likes the work enough but it doesn’t ignite a passion in her -- a part of her hesitates to indulge in her own emotions after her failed wedding but she misses that heady rush and thrill of simply being. She doesn’t like the structure of the Bollywood music industry, but she doesn’t trust herself to do anything else.

The Capulets find her in Glasgow. She’s visiting for a university friend’s wedding and the bachelorette party is at a glitzy karaoke bar. She sings freely, enjoying herself and at the end of the night is approached by a member of the Capulets with a business card. Her mother is supportive of the move, the way her parents had supported her, and the world seems at her fingertips.

Delilah Arora (though she only goes by Delilah for business purposes) is an up-and-coming pop singer and is often compared to Lorde and Florence Welch. Her voice is surprisingly powerful; more familiar ears are able to pick up the Ghazal influences (though Europeans find it similar to the Portuguese Fado style). Her first album, COMMUOVERE (a story that moves one to tears in English) was released recently to modest financial success and critical acclaim. Her feature track, Anarkali, garners special attention -- the ballad of a dancer’s tragic love story entrances every listener.

CONNECTIONS

THE CONTACT (Lucrezia Falco) -- Lucrezia has a keen eye; there’s a reason she’s a headhunter. Delilah also trusts Lu more than anyone else in the industry. She’s the reason for Delilah’s big break and so she’s become a dear friend. And someone she can talk to at big parties, as an additional bonus.

THE MANAGER (Everett Craven) -- Everett is smart and she knows it. But sweet and kind gives guarantees. Her mother used it to gracefully handle what could have been a career-ruining scandal and Delilah has made enough mistakes that she’s positive it’s the right move. Sure, everyone likes to watch a good girl go bad, but she needs to establish herself as a good girl first. 

THE INVESTIGATOR (open) -- Delilah’s past is rife with juicy secrets from her ex-husband to her mysterious father. Maybe Delilah asked you to look into her father, or maybe you just can’t stand how nice she is and want to see her facade break. Either way, the truth will make its way out and she will have to confront it.

THE TRUTH TELLER (Regina Daly) -- Delilah was delighted to be asked to be a part of Regina’s latest documentary. The topic of authenticity makes her hesitate but she’s been playing the part of the darling for so long she’s sure she can manage keeping it up. She hasn’t realized just how insightful and perceptive the other woman is and the interviews will definitely bring forth questions. 

THE GUIDE (Nikolai Borisov) -- Delilah is somewhat unfamiliar with the ins and outs of the European entertainment industry and Nikolai may be more fallen angel than guide, sauntering about casually, but he was a friendly face who knew everyone. Following him is always an adventure; a guilty pleasure Delilah can’t help but allow.

THE FLIRTATION (Orion Massetti) -- Orion is sweet and sad in a way that draws Delilah like a moth. Around him, her persona feels real and around him, she feels as though indulging in her impulses isn’t the great crime she’s made it out to be. She still stutters when he flirts but she smiles too.

THE STAR (Tiberius Capulet) -- Delilah wasn’t really into rap so when their management teams suggested working together, she was not convinced it would go well. However, she can’t say no to the opportunity, recognizing it merits. She’d forgotten that music has its own language and to those who understood it, anything was possible. Even a collab.

THE CRITIC (Odin Bello) -- Hooking up with him wasn’t something Delilah regretted, but it was definitely a mistake. Odin had been helpful at first -- he’d understood her vision for Anarkali in a way no other producer had and for that, she would always be thankful. But he’s been cold, somewhat rude and mean, quite frankly, ever since she refused to date him. From her biggest fan to her biggest critic...Odin and Delilah could only ever be tragic.

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, EMMA K! You’ve been accepted for the role of HERMIONE. Admin Rogue: There’s something about the warmth of your writing that gets me every time, Emma K. The quiet ache I felt throughout reading your portrayal of Harriet hurt my heart, but it was her strength that caught me, and how she uses it so differently from what someone in Verona might expect. She’s private without being closed off, warm without being weak, and there’s a spark she hides so carefully, tending it within her until she can cultivate something out of it. What I loved most of all were your headcanons; her interests, her goals, her dreams, they all felt so lived in to me. You’ve managed to take someone with no power and show us how she would build it for herself, and Harriet’s journey will be so beautiful to witness, I absolutely cannot wait! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB. 

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Emma Kate

Age | 24

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | I am normally online every second day to get replies out but constantly work to do better at it! I’m normally on discord every day for plotting and discussion.

Timezone | GMT +1

How did you find the rp?  | I was recommended the RP from a friend who was a member at the time!

Current/Past RP Accounts | gertrudezhang.tumblr.com

IN CHARACTER

Character | Harriet “Hermione” D’Angelo

Harriet - “keeper of the hearth”

Mother. How ironic that her name reminds her about what could have been, the beautiful fleeting moment that was taken away as quickly as it was given to her.

Hermione - “messenger”

Potential. The name that had been given to her by the Witches, like a gift. It was another reminder, though this time from the ones who came before; a reminder of what she could be.

D’Angelo - “of the angels”

Angelic. That was often the word that came to mind when people spoke about Harriet D’Angelo, not only in the physical sense but in her attitude as well.

What drew you to this character? | Harriet offers a unique perspective when juxtaposed with other characters, someone who has been directly affected (in a really, really, brutal sense) by the mafia without having warranted it. Most who are punished by la famiglia deserved it, in one way or another, but her son had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and she had suffered as a result.

In spite of that, she seems to have found peace in the fact that she has picked herself up - not once but twice - and is something that she won’t let anyone take away from her. In Verona that small modicum of calmness must be protected but, like a fire in a rain shower, that will take effort and I adore that she is willing to give that effort!

It was the last couple of lines in her bio that made me fall in love with her, when, honestly, I had almost disregarded her; “Harriet has no cards of her own - and perhaps that is why Mona’s let her in as much as she has.” That’s the true beauty of her, making her special and memorable to boot, a woman with nothing left to lose and no front to hide behind.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

i. SAY MY NAME

Harriet has heard stories about them, how the people fear them. Odin Bello and Matthias Warren. They knew their faces, she just had their names. Names that lingered in her mind like an image from an old dream, yet, were it a dream she could escape them. Far harder a feat when they were living, breathing, people that walked among those who she often wouldn’t give a second glance to. The men are a band-aid slapped haphazardly over the wound of her son’s death, confronting them (and ripping that off) is inevitable, but she forgot the scab beneath is barely healed.

(Harriet does not intend to murder either man for what happened to her son, as made apparent in her bio, but she is not shy to make her feelings known. I feel their response could influence her current view on the mafia as a whole which I find particularly interesting considering one is Montague and one is Capulet, but the confrontation is something she needs for closure.)

ii. IN THE SHADOWS

Enviable, people watch as she stands at the side of the Dark Lady herself, head canted back in mutual laughter and a drink in hand. Harriet has been afforded certain clemency from Mona Chen that others have only dreamed of but one does not stand at the right hand of a goddess without garnering attention from her clientele. The question in the back of her mind; did she want the recognition?

(Harriet, as a neutral character, has the potential to be connected to the mafia through her connection with the Dark Lady. It is purposefully broad as I can imagine it going a number of directions - using information she has learned against someone who threatens her, someone seeking her out for the information they believe she knows, or even being used as leverage against Mona herself! Overall, I want to use the Dark Lady to draw her closer to the mob.)

iii. HEY THERE, DELILAH

Delilah; a woman who dared to step beyond the boundaries that the mafia had drawn for her and suffered the consequence, still offering Harriet the comfort that she was not alone. Their affliction was different but their diagnosis was the same; heartache. Their connection is particularly interesting given that Delilah was stabbed at the cathedral, a deathly reminder; that the mob will continue to tear those who try to better themselves down unless it fits their agenda.

(I think after what happened at the cathedral that it will be a reminder for Harriet about the cruelty of the mob, perhaps making her thankful that she isn’t directly connected to either camp. The fact that Delilah and Odin were a couple, that the woman she might grow to consider a friend danced with the devil and emerged unscathed, physically, at least, would make Harriet both respectful and fearful of her - did this woman know what happened to her son?)

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Once you turn her into a statue…

IN DEPTH

In-Character Interview:

Harriet had to grapple with reluctance until it seemed agreeable to host the interview at her home. Her space had been her own for so long that the thought of letting someone else in, however temporary, seemed alien to her. Hesitation, thankfully a yielding creature when faced with resolution and resolve, still manifested in the nervous tapping of her feet when positioned at her work station. The soft cadence of the doorbell soon echoes within the confines of the modest apartment, a soft smile lined her lips as she answered the door. The shock that greeted her in response turns her expression sheepish as she remembers the scalpel held loosely in hand. Great start, she thinks to herself, though what she says is a hushed apology.

“Please, come in,” attempting to rectify the damage she had managed to inflict, she stands back in what she hopes seems like a welcoming gesture. “Can I get you anything, signora? Tea? Coffee?” Harriet waits for their answer, nodding her comprehension as she busies herself with making a beverage for each of them, returning to take a seat opposite them at her table. Her home was modest, and she liked it that way, unburned by the expectations of a lavish lifestyle and unchained by memories that she would have rather forgotten in the large house she had once lived in. Nice might not have been the word for it, but she would have said it came close.

“What is your favourite place in Verona?”

“The Cathedral was one of my favourite places in Verona, before -,” her sentence trails off, it didn’t need to be finished; everyone knew what happened to the building that had once stood proud in the centre of the city. Harriet had gone there every day when she had been married, used to pray that she was somewhere - anywhere - else. Safe. Odd, that the girl who had been content with what she had, to have wished for something beyond her reach. There had been a moment - between the explosion and the acknowledgement of what had happened - where relief had surged through her.

“Now,” she lapses into a brief silence, consulting the softest part of herself that still beat beneath her ribs, “I’d have to say that the natural history museum has a special place in my heart.”

“What does your typical day look like?”

“Is anything typical in Verona?” Head cants in tandem with her question, the corners of her mouth quirking upward as she gradually relaxes into the situation. “Bene,” relenting, acknowledging that the woman in front of her was serious about the task at hand, “I’m afraid I’m rather dull. I spend the majority of my time at work and, when I’m not there, you’ll find me here.” Hands sweep outward, away from her body, motioning toward the explanation for her scalpel, her latest project cast to one side in favour of the mug of coffee she held between her hands. Harriet doesn’t mention the club where she spends the majority of her evenings, everyone in Verona knew the Lady and had formed their opinion on her, and her business was her own.

“What has been your biggest mistake thus far?”

Breath sucked in between her teeth, pause ensuing, she is unsure how best to answer. “I want to say being too free with whom I give my heart to,” even as she says it aloud it sounds like she was answering one question with another, answering one of them, she continues, “but I don’t think of that as a mistake, a learning curve perhaps, but it is never a mistake to love.” Her heart aches, she can feel it in her chest, an assault against her ribcage in protest of her response. Harriet had been burnt by the flames of devotion before, again and again, yet she was willing to ignite that fire again and let it dance within her soul.

“What has been the most difficult task asked of you?”

The sigh slips from her before she can stop it, “I’m not sure.” Instinct was a cunning thing, faster than the plethora of other options that formed from its dust, leaving her no time to reinforce her armour. “I think to live when the odds are stacked against you can be quite difficult at times.” Harriet forces a faint breath of laughter, half for her sake and half for her interviewer, self-deprecation lingering in the corners of her expression. “This interview will seem terribly sad, won’t it? I’m not so serious all the time, I promise.”

“What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?”

Harriet remembers the feeling of her fingers brushing across the small, neatly printed, card affixed to the wall of the gallery, mouth turned into a reflection of the contented guise she had donned in that moment. Her gaze had drank in the black ink on white, like iced tea on a summer day, and she had felt happy. In loving memory of Maximillian D’Angelo it read. The display had been one of the first that she curated in the Twelfth Night, and it had felt right, seeing the butterflies (in various artistic guises) peppered throughout the room; her old life and her new merged into one.

“It has been happening for as long as I can remember,” she muses, truthfully, “and so many have been injured as a result. Their war has cost me my son, I know that I don’t want to be involved with it.”

Extras:

Mock blog – https://mockhermione.tumblr.com/

Pinterest board – https://www.pinterest.ie/em_kl/misc-oc/

Playlist – https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2Kdebdsmt4FI2KCbEHuVZx?si=yhdor2ObSiSXrbVM9sy4JQ

HEADCANON: (TW Death)

Harriet was born January 4th 1984, making her a Capricorn, the only child of Claudia and Gabriel D’Angelo.

Her mother had chosen to be a stay-at-home wife, abandoning her role as receptionist in a law firm once she had Harriet, her father worked as a lessor of real estate which turned a profit.

Harriet has a BSc in Biology and a MA in museum studies.

Uberto Regio had not lived up to the meaning of his name, yet she had married him, aged 22, in an effort to appease her parents. In making a long story short, it was not a pleasant marriage.

Maximillian Regio was born on December 27th 2006, a belated Christmas gift, becoming Maximillian D’Angelo when Harriet reclaimed her maiden name after her marriage ended in the New Year.

Harriet was offered a job in the Museo Civico di Storia Naturale, the Natural History Museum of Verona, transferring to the Twelfth Night & the Tempest after her son died.

Max was 7 years old, just shy of turning 8, when he was murdered.. [I’m going to purposefully leave the cause vague as while I imagine he was caught in the crossfire between opposing sides of the mob coming home from school I would like to discuss with admins and relevant writers as necessary]

Harriet keeps butterflies and releases them from a butterfly garden every year as it was something her and Max used to do.

Her personality type is the Defender: ISFJ. Kind, quiet and devoted. She is a natural protector of the weak and good-hearted once you get beyond her initial awkwardness.

One of her more unusual hobbies is taxidermy which she learned from her grandfather, and touched on in her degree.

[matthiaswarren]

WHEN: October 31st, 4:45PM WHERE: Capulet Territory WHO: Closed @odinbello

The theme of these twenty-four hours was rage. Truly, there had always been this angry fire within Matthias, though one that burned like a lighter at first, something he could flick on when he wanted it and suffocate when he didn’t, though like all fire, it could grow out of control the minute it left his fingers. Such things were often reserved for run-ins with Capulets or the betrayal of an old friend or the times he honed it at Measure By Measure. Then Marius was slain, and Matthias could feel nothing but the fire, as if the lighter fluid had dripped out of its metal container and saturated the grief he held. The decay of such an awful thing that rotted in his stomach produced the heat needed to ignite that fire once more, and it only grew bigger, stronger, hotter. Often, he could contain it within the serious and focused armor he wore, always a knight suited up for battle, but today he’d shed that armor as the consequences were shed from Verona, allowing that rage to be free from its shackles, allowing it to burn up all within its path.

The next unfortunate obstacle appeared to be the Capulet walking towards him. Matthias didn’t know Odin’s motives tonight, nor if he walked towards Matthias with the same intents the Montague held or if he simply did not recognize the threat intent on engaging, and truly, he didn’t care. His anger grew wild and out of control, like a fire that could not contain its spread, taking every source of fuel and burning it up until nothing but ash remained. Odin was a perfect target for such heat, after all – Matthias only grew closer to Delilah, and with such closeness grew in tandem a growing hatred of the man who had brought such undeserved shame to her, and if she could not seek revenge so swiftly, even if she may not have even wanted that, he could certainly take down a smug Capulet face that cared for none but himself. What else would he expect from such villains? “You cross the wrong path, Bello,” growled Matthias as he grew closer, removing his cigarette from his lips as his free hand balled into a fist.

[galaxy-writter]

SHIPLIST

UPDATE 22/01/2019

Hago este cosito de rápido solo para poner recordatorios bellos en lo que hago tiempito para editar mis páginas bien bien. Me va a dar mucha penita etiquetar, así que pueden quitar la etiqueta sin problema, o en dado caso, si ya no desean alguna ship o yo asumí mal una relación pueden decirme de inmediato ♥♥♥ ¡Gracias y buen día! ♥

@phasmatiss​​  Leo & Hazel (ship) Marco & Star (ship) Kenny & Butters (ship) Wendy & Stan (ship) Kenny & Stan (ship) Peter & Wade (ship) Otani & Risa (ship) Yoosung & MC (ship) Yoosung & Seven (ship) Kyle & Cartman (ship) Peter & Hana (ship) Clyde & Bebe (ship) Clyde & Token (ship) Nichole & Token (ship)

@feels-and-words​ Atsushi & Todomatsu (ship) Chat Noir & Marinette (ship) Dean & Castiel (ship) Gary & Timmy (ship) Jonathan & Sock (ship) Spencer & Billy (ship) Tobe & Pucca (ship) Vincent & Ada (ship) @xfallingstars​ Beatrice & Wirt (ship) Gilbert & Alice (ship) 

@vigcko​ Odin & Ava (ship)  Wheatley & Chell (relationship) GLaDOS & Chell (relationship)  Soul & Maka (ship) Zacharie & The Batter (ship) Ocsitos (ship) Stan & Kyle (friendship) @frammande Wrathia & Ava (friend/hateship)  @amethyst-crevasse Tenryu & Amelia (ship) @sxngenshiki Quill & Gamora (ship)  Syaoran & Sakura (ship) Yue & Sakura (friendship) Zuko & Katara (ship)

@xtokyoshinjuu Tamaki & Haruhi (ship)  Hiccup & Merida (ship)

@crisaceo Fry & Leela (ship) Vivi & Arthur (friendship)

@waideweik Akihito & Mirai (ship) Steven & Lars (friendship) Osomatsu & Todomatsu (family) U-1146 & AE3803 (ship) Erydan & Izaro (friendship)

@omg-betterdaysarecoming​ Jonathan & Nancy (ship)  Danny & Chris (ship) Graves & Credence (ship) Salazar & Jack (ship) Mike & Eleven (ship) Hopper & Joyce (ship)

@madnessinthishouse​ Amethyst & Pearl (ship) 

@pipdrems Howl & Sophie (ship) Perséfone & Hades (ship) Ocsitos compañeros de departamento (ship) Ocsitos ricos (?) (ship)

@saranghacs​ Sam & Castiel (friendship) Isabel & Chava (ship) Jackie & Star (friendship)

@sispair​ Leo & Elliot (ship)

@awhaz​ Eric & Kyle (ship) Craig & Stan (ship)

@sweethorizon-stories​ Ada & Oz (family) Lizzy & Nat (friendship)

@memxriis Déldar & Izaro (ship)

@chaotic-song​ Abbys & Alice (family) MC & Saeyoung (ship) Echo & Oz (ship) Saeran & MC (ship)

@stan-abaddon​ Stan & Natalie (ship)

@hopelessviolinist Jumin & MC (ship) Jumin & Saeyoung (ship) @stvrxlight​ Martin & Lucas (ship) Laurel & OC (ship) Jake & Amy (ship)

Creo que esas serían todas las relaciones de mis bebés ♥♥ Si me faltó algo no duden en decirme;; o si yo asumí mal algo sadsfas. ¡Gracias por leer!