#let me ramble in the tags since nobody's gonna see em

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Capt. Syverson- Chapter Three: Therapeutic Activity

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: Tensions reach a boiling point during treatment one evening, Shane goes to her own veteran for advice, and takes the first step toward happiness…hoping beyond hope that everything doesn’t blow up in her face.

Masterlist with links to all parts HERE!

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: None, yet… ;) But maybe I should be putting language warnings in here…there are some bad words. And not to spoil but…there might be a bit of kissing in this one…

Author’s Note: Guys, I cannot stress to you enough how much I am enjoying telling this story. My goodness. To sort of combine my passions of writing and Henry with something I know so well like therapy (I’m a secretary like Heather, not a therapist), it really just makes me happy. The next chapter is already done, also, it was initially part of this chapter, but it felt too long, so I’ll be posting it separately later. I know, I’m a tease. Have Henry spank me. Lol.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

"This sounds…kinda dumb…" Sy expressed his thoughts on today's warm up with Shane.

"Oh, trust me, it looks even dumber than it sounds. But it works. And it's easier on your knees than doing it the right way. You ready?" he looked at the treadmill, inclined at 3% grade as if it was Everest itself, and looked back at her. "I'll start slow." she raised her eyebrows at him.

"You know just what to say to a girl." he teased as he stepped up, still gingerly, even after eight weeks of therapy. Crutches mercifully jettisoned two weeks ago. He was on his way to being his fighting fit self. With a foot on either track beside the belt, but facing away from the control panel, he waited for her to press start. He took a breath and nodded.

"Test the belt with your bad foot first, and then when you're ready, step down with it. Remember what I've told you about which foot should lead when ascending and descending stairs or hills?"

"Good go to Heaven, Bad go to Hell. So I go up with the good leg and go down with the bad leg."

"A+ student. Okay, when you're ready…any time…Sy, this is an hour session…I have to kick you out in 55 minutes…chop chop." she cajoled him, but he wasn't budging.

"It feels…weird going this way, Shane." If she had been a less kind person, she would have called it whining…she called it nothing, instead.

"I know. Do you need to walk backwards around the clinic a little more to get you used to that sensation?"

"Hell yeah. If that means you're gonna spot me like you did before…felt kinda like dancin'." it was a perfectly legitimate and above-board treatment strategy. They stood back to back, Shane guiding Sy as he practiced walking backward and pushing off with the extensor muscle group, which had been weak. Sy had suggested holding hands, but Shane had compromised with the idea to link arms. Not that she wasn't dying to hold his hand…she was. But that had not been the time. The time was still weeks away. At least.

"I was thinking I'd have you try it with Jordan. He's got a free hour right now. And I can assess your technique. How does that sound, Twinkle Toed Romeo?" Immediately he placed a tentative foot down onto the slow moving belt trying to adjust to the odd sensation of walking up a hill backward.

"Ah, so I now know that all I have to do to get you to do something silly is threaten you with Jordan. Filing that away for a rainy day."

"Come on, you're breakin' my heart, sunshine."

"Aww, don't be ridiculous. I've seen therapists do way more embarrassing things to their patients in the name of treatment."

"Tell me!"

"Sorry, but it's classified information. Protected under the Health Insurance Privacy and Portability Act. I could literally get fired for telling you, and there are way cooler things to get fired for!" She'd always said it. And she meant it. She didn't fool around when it came to HIPPA, and there was no way she was gonna lose her job over a stupid slip like that.

"Any examples of things you'd rather get fired for?"

She thought for a few minutes. She used to have a list.

"Hmm, telling off my bitch of a boss," he looked shocked at her use of a bad language word, which he'd never heard from her. She nodded. "Telling off an asshole patient," sleeping with a patient…

"What about sleeping with a patient?" It was late in the day, the only person still there was Heather in the office, and a few therapists still documenting. Nobody in the gym to hear him echo the thoughts in her head. As if he could read them as clearly as a page in a book. Large print. She looked at him in shock.

"Sorry. That was over the line."

"It was…but…"

"But?"

"But…it would not be the least cool reason to get fired."

"It wouldn't?" she shook her head, reluctantly.

"Especially if the patient was…amazing, and kind, and…fucking gorgeous…"

"Young lady, that language today, I have never!" he exclaimed clutching at his broad and beautiful chest.

"I know, but, Sy…this is all hypothetical, and theoretical, and IF I was GOING to get fired how would I CHOOSE for it to happen and WHAT policy I would go against. People don't just CHOOSE to be fired, you know?" she was nervous and rambling.

"You know what people also don't choose? Who they care about, and have feelin's for. Who they--"

"Don't finish that sentence, Sy." She couldn't hear him say the word he was going to say. She couldn't let him start that. Not when there was too much complicating their situation.

She walked off to her treatment room, needing some space.  Some time.

She didn't get that space or time. Sy hobbled in behind her, looking like a man on a mission. And she knew from his war stories that his missions tended to be successful…even the one that got him his walking papers wasn't a total loss.

"Sy, you still had like, five minutes on the tr--"

His big hands found the sweet spot where her neck met her skull. He took a big breath and closed the distance between them, his lips landing light as feathers on hers, her soft skin welcoming the roughness of his beard, though everything else about the kiss was terribly gentle. Almost chaste. Even his beard wasn't so rough that she worried about beard burn…she'd be filing that away for later, as well. Against her willpower and better judgement but in full cooperation with her desires and instincts she began kissing him back, daring to deepen it by opening their mouths a bit, and sliding her hands up the back of his red tee that sported a black skull. All of his shirts were entirely too tight, but you'd never catch her complaining. Even after several months away from active duty and really, most activity at all, his body was still so solid and powerful.

"Ain't that a daisy…Fuck, I've wanted to do that since my first appointment." he chuckled, lightly.

"Sy…"

"Don't. Don't try to argue or tell me you don't feel it. This energy between us. I've seen it in your eyes, Shane. I've felt it when you touch me. It ain't nothin, sunshine. It's a whole lotta somethin'."

"I know, but I need this job. And I WANT this job. Being a therapist is the only thing I've ever wanted to do. Helping people. People like you. Getting them better. It's what I was meant to do. And there's no place like this in the area for me to treat such a diverse clientele and build my skill set. It's not without it's problems, but it's where I'm meant to be."

"I get that. And you should do what you were called to do. You're too good at this not to do it. But Shane, isn't it worth pushing back on some policy if it could mean you get to have some personal happiness, too?"

"I'm worried they'll make me choose." Actually, it was more than that. She was worried about which choice she'd make. Giving up a ten-year career with excellent benefits despite its pitfalls, or giving up someone she could hardly stop thinking about, who made her heart pound when he smiled, and who was rapidly shaping up to be someone she could see herself sharing a life with…making either choice terrified her for very different reasons.

"You shouldn't have to choose. Any boss who'd make you deny yourself what we could have just because of some ridiculous policy…well, they ain't worth the gas that brought 'em to work today. Y'understand me?"

She nodded, smirking at his idiom, "You don't know my boss."

"Well, maybe I oughta GET to know her, if it's like that. I have a way of throwin' my weight around, case ya hadn't noticed." he shot her a smug grin.

"Ya don't say?" she retorted, brimming with sarcasm, literally still wrapped in the evidence of said weight in the form of his muscular arms, warm and thick, encircling her. Even though she felt like her life was up in the air, she had never felt more safe. "I'll try to have a chat with her about it this week. Our schedules rarely align, and usually that's how I like it, but I'll try to move some things around if nothing naturally falls into place."

"I'll be happy to lend my voice or even come talk to her, if need be." he offered, ever the gentleman.

"I appreciate that, Sy, truly. But I think it would be best not to involve you unless it becomes absolutely necessary. We have several more treatments to get through today, though. You didn't finish on the tread mill, do you think you're warmed up enough?"

"Oh, darlin', I'm plenty warm." he grinned down at her sliding a hand down her side.

"Shit, am I gonna have to start being extra careful with what I say to you until this gets sorted?"

"I really doubt it'll matter, Shane. Ain't much you can say I can't make dirty." she could tell by the satisfaction on his face that this was a point of pride for him.

"Lay down and shut up."

"Yes, MA'AM!" he complied with a little too much enthusiasm. She didn't know whether to roll her eyes with amusement or grow increasingly feral…apparently there was room for both as long as she didn't act on the latter. Yet.

~~~~~~~~

She dismissed Sy for the day, instructing him to behave himself until she gave him the all clear, and even then, if she got the green light to see him outside of therapy, sessions would still be about getting him stronger, and not flirting. Or at least mostly. They settled on a 90/10 ratio by the end. She was a weak woman.

She went into the office where one of the senior therapists, Anita, was still charting and snacking on some pretzels.

"How was your day, Nita?" she asked affectionately. Anita had been her mentor since she started with the clinic over ten years ago, and was now part time, flexing toward retirement. She'd miss her.

"Oh, long, Miss Shane. As they tend to be more and more these days. What about yours?"

"Ah…just…nothin'." she shouldn't go into it all until she talked to Susan, their boss.

"Mmm, that's no nothing nothin', that's a something nothin'. Come on, kiddo. Spill." she offered Shane one of her pretzels and kicked out the chair next to her. Again, she was a weak woman. She took a pretzel, sat, and chewed it for a moment, collecting her words.

"What do you think about…starting relationships with patients?" she searched her reaction for any snap judgement or emotion, but only a narrowing of her eyes occurred.

"Is this about that Captain Sexypants who just left?"

"I'm going to kill Heather. I'm not the one who came up with that nickname and I'm not the one who started the whole having feelings conversation. I was going to be miserable until he was discharged, at least."

"Why would you need to make yourself miserable, Shane?"

"Because the policy. About dating patients."

"Technically the policy only says you shouldn't treat family/close friends if you feel you wouldn't be able to maintain objectivity or would be uncomfortable yourself. But that you should disclose any relationship to your supervisor for review."

"See, what's Susan gonna say?"

"Who cares? The policy is the law. And the board of directors governs the policy. Not her. Tell her in an email if you can't work out a time to talk to her before you see him next. Hell, I sent my boss a memo back when I started dating Ron. And look at us now! 20 years strong."

"No way!?" Shane was flabbergasted. She had never known that Anita's husband Ron had once been her patient.

"Oh yes. I wasn't long out of PT school, my first husband had passed away and I needed an income, so I got my PT license and about a year into working here, Ron got put on my schedule. I knew from the eval, he was meant for me. So I typed up a memo, sent it to Morton, our boss at the time, and told Ron I was free on Friday after work."

"Sy just…I don't know, we have this…connection…a spark. I've never felt it with anyone else."

"Are you concerned that seeing him socially would affect how you treat him here?"

"I'm more worried keeping my feelings for him bottled up while I treat him will get so distracting I'll become less effective."

"Well, then, if you get any push back, tell Susan that." Anita said. "Just be forthright. Honest. And speak with integrity. She'll have no cause to refute it, then. And send it tonight."

"Okay. Thanks Anita. You're the best."

~~~~~~~~~

Shane spent too long, probably an hour, at least, drafting her email to Susan. It read:

To: Susan DeForrest

From: Shane Benton

Subject: Re: Treatment Policy

Susan,

I wanted to bring to your attention a situation that has presented itself with one of my patients. I have been treating him almost exclusively for several weeks now, apart from my week on PTO, and he has progressed to both of our satisfaction as well as the ordering physician. However, we have come to be quite friendly and he has expressed great interest in seeing me outside of therapy. This is something that I too would like to engage in, and I plan to accept the next time I speak with him.

From my understanding of the policy, the only thing that would prevent me from treating him as a social acquaintance would be my own comfort level and ability to remain objective. I have every confidence that my objectivity regarding his case will remain intact. I am also completely comfortable with it, and if that changes, I will transfer him to another therapist. Furthermore, I have no doubts that I will be able to maintain the highest level of professionalism throughout our treatments.

Thank you, and if you feel we need to discuss any of this further, please let me know.

~Shane Benton, DPT

And send…whew. She needed a big glass of wine tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Up Next: Chapter Four- E-Stim

[alleiradayne]

JACKSON

Summary: Briana and Jensen sing Jackson at JIB Written for: @atc74‘s Duet Challenge Reboot Warnings/Tags: Fluff, music, singing, suggestive not-so-platonic friendship but it really is platonic. Characters/Pairings: Briana Buckmaster and Jensen Ackles Word Count: 1300 Song: Jackson by June Carter and Johnny Cash

Look, I know we work well together. I get it. I’m all too aware. Maybe even a little too aware. Screen or stage, it doesn’t matter where we are. When the two of us are together, filming, singing, or just kickin’ back and havin’ a few drinks, everyone in the room feels it. Call it what you want, but whatever it is, it’s palpable.

I’m not quite sure where it started either. Maybe it was that gag reel. Those fuckin’ donuts, man. Jensen’s a pro when it comes to comedy. He’s taught me a thing or two. I never realized it until he pointed it out on set a few months ago. A reel of our outtakes would last hours. I wish I had one. You know, for the rougher days. Especially now.

I know our personas on the show have a platonic BFF thing going on. But off screen, things definitely took a turn at JIB that year we sang Shallow. I’ll never forget it. It was Jensen's idea. In fact, he was the one that insisted I lay down an album. Never in a million years did I think I’d get back to my original dream.

But you know how Jensen can be. Persuasive and supportive and charming. I’m no dummy, I know what I look like when I look at him. And I know that gleam in his eyes, the hint of that confident smirk. And dammit, do I definitely know what I look like when he looks at me like that. It’s gotta be subconscious. We don't mean anything by it. We’re like family. He’s another big brother to me, and I’m a second little sister to him.

Not sure why my mind wandered there of all places. Nerves. Rome's not a huge gig, but it's a special one. After last year, we wanted to keep up the duet. And yet, as I stared at the sliver of blinding light between the curtains at the top of the stairs, I couldn’t help but think about—

"Ready, Buckmaster?"

Like struck glass, my rambling thoughts shattered into a million tiny glittering pieces, shimmering as they faded to nothing. Though darkness encompassed us both, I knew Jensen stood beside me. A deep breath steadied my heart. “Yeah.” A hard swallow caught my voice. "Yeah, I'm good."

“You’re in your head is what you are,” Jensen retorted. “What’s got your tongue?”

Despite my best efforts, I sounded far more unsure than I felt. “Nothing… just… last minute practice. You know. In here. Not that that makes any sense.”

Jensen scoffed as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Of course it does." He paused. "Nervous?"

Stalled. I never stalled. "I… don't know," I stuttered. "Maybe? Couldn't really tell ya. Been a hot minute since I last felt any sort of nerves."

"I hear you," he said with a squeeze of his arm. The din of the tiny convention room filled the silent void between us until he shifted. From my shoulders to my hand, the warmth of his grasp slid into my palm. "You know what to do. Eyes on me. Nobody else is there." He paused once more as a cast member introduced us. “It's just you, me, and the music.”

With a reassuring squeeze of his hand, I said, "Right. Music. Us. That's it." Careful steps carried me up the stairs to the stage. Jensen trailed behind, his hand still clasped in mine as I turned over my shoulder and said, "Let's do this."

The sliver of light widened and revealed Jensen's brilliant smile as I pulled the curtain aside. "Go git it, sister."

Like a dial on a speaker, the dull roar of the crowd cranked to eleven and slammed into my chest with all the force of a speeding truck. And in that moment, with Jensen trailing behind me, tension seeped from my shoulders. The twitch in my fingers settled as I wrapped them around my mic. The uneasy flutter in my stomach quieted as I grasp the stand. And the lights. Thank god for those lights, brighter than the noon-day sun. A sea of black and white spread out before me, silhouettes in an endless ocean. Calm. Sweet, sensational calm.

The rhythm section drowned out the crowd, started without warning. That churning beat and strumming guitar drove the opening bars right on into the chorus, and so, we sang.

We got married in a fever Hotter than a peppered sprout We’ve been talkin’ ‘bout Jackson Ever since the fire went out

Yeah I’m goin’ to Jackson I'm gonna mess around Yeah I'm goin' to Jackson Look out Jackson town

The gig always felt different than rehearsals. No matter all my prep, it still felt entirely different. Granted we only ever sang to tracks in our practice, but that was enough for Jensen. He was a natural talent. He didn't even need to try. And maybe the first couple of runs I tried to live up to some crazy uncommunicated expectation I thought he had of me. But another one of Jensen's many talents is reading people like open books.

Memories of those rehearsals flooded my mind as I turned to him and sang my verse.

Well go on down to Jackson Go ahead and wreck your health Go play your hand you big-talkin' man Make a big fool of yourself Yeah, go to Jackson Go comb your hair

He always let me ruffle his hair.

Honey, I'm gonna snowball Jackson.

He always winked.

See if I care.

Something about the live shows hooks me so hard into the moment that I forgot to experience them. Forgot to be in the moment. I get caught up in the performance, get the lyrics right, don't get too creative, no obnoxious arpeggios or ridiculous embellishments. Keep the audience engaged, breathe, breathe again, long line, don't forget to breathe. Breathe, Briana. God dammit, breathe.

When I breeze into that city People gonna stoop and bow

HA!

His dark glare snapped to me, accompanied by a mischievous grin. By the middle of his verse, he towered over me, that glare far more devious than it had started.

All them women gonna make me Teach 'em what they don’t know how Yeah, I'm goin' to Jackson You turn-a loose-a my coat 'Cause I'm goin' to Jackson

No acting class can teach you how to push away from an attractive man as you sing to his face.

‘Goodbye,” that's all she wrote!

My turn.

But they'll laugh at you in Jackson And I’ll be dancing’ on a Pony Keg They’ll lead you ‘round town like a scolded hound With your tail tucked between your legs, Yeah, go to Jackson, you big-talkin’ man. And I’ll be waitin’ in Jackson Behind my Japan Fan

Another run at the chorus reunited our voices. Enough voices to be heard in the audience joined us, too. Jackson wasn’t just a song to me; it was a story. On the surface, it sounds like a quarreling couple who married too fast and in the midst of lust rather than love. But then we sang together.

Yeah, we’re goin’ to Jackson Ain’t never comin’ back

Jackson reignited their love. In the end, they found each other in Jackson. And that’s the story I love to tell.

Jensen finished the song in casual Johnny Cash fashion and the accompanying rhythm section faded away, overwhelmed by the crowd cheering and clapping.

And just like that it was over. Another gig in the books. Jensen smiled, waved, kissed the top of my head. And I hugged him the only way I could, around his waist like a kid sister.

Because, despite the way it always looked, that was all we’ve ever been.  Big brother. Kid sister.

Kindred spirits telling stories with song.

Feedback is appreciated! Feel free to reblog, too!

If you want in on any of my tags (Sam/Jared, Dean/Jensen), send me a DM or an ask!

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[a-gay-bloodmage]

—She Won't Think it's Important—

Pairing: Background Sera x Female Trevelyan, (platonic) Sera & Cole

Pairing: F/F, (platonic) M&F

Words: 4,055

Warnings: A Reluctant Wife and Enthusiastic Adopted Son, Spirits and Lesbians and Cats and Pie and Love, Four Thousand Words of Weirdos Bonding

"Sera!" The ghostly voice that spoke suddenly from behind her made her scream. The sun had hardly risen and she was already being bothered. At least she had her trousers on.

"Piss off, Creepy!" Sera yelled, spinning around to see the intruder in her room. A tall, gangly young man with a hat too large for his head, staring sheepishly at her feet, greasy blond hair falling past his eyes. Cole. "What'd I tell you about barging into my room?"

"Not to do it," he whispered, looking remorseful.

Sera tried not to falter. "That's right! Just because I like Kiora it doesn't mean I'm gonna let you just scare the piss outta me," she huffed, crossing her arms. "So shoo."

"But I have something important to tell you," he said, his eyes now looking at her nose intensely.

"I don't care about whatever Fade-y shite you're gonna go on about," she said. "I said shoo!"

"It's about Kiora," he said, rocking back and forth slightly on his feet.

She paused. "What's wrong?" She asked. "Is something wrong with tadwinks?" She couldn't help the fact that her heart sped up. Stupid heart.

"No, no, she's okay," he said, his hands wringing together. "But I need to tell you something."

"Spit it out, then!"

"The tenth of Drakonis, a damned day, a day devoid of distinction, once so special, but not since she came, came to sit in these silent spaces, shrinking slowly until she slips away forever," Cole said, rushed whispers tumbling out his lips. "Quiet halls, sleepy halls, the demons' harsh hailings faded here and now as she thinks of home, of hearths, of hearts."

Sera groaned. "Stop that!" Cole's rambling made her head hurt. "You said you had something to tell me about tadwinks, so tell me!"

"Today's the tenth," he said. "It's the tenth, and Kiora will turn twenty-two this evening."

Kiora's... birthday? Sera found herself smiling slightly, despite her ghostly company. "Kiora's birthday!"

"Yes, her birthday," he said, smiling softly as he nodded. "She was afraid to tell you."

"Huh?" The smile slipped of Sera's face. "Why?"

"She won't think it's special, nobody has since she was small. Other mages learn to set such special celebrations slip, but she still seizes such subconscious souvenirs. Sitting in solitude, sheets hiding her head, sometimes sobbing, sometimes singing the same little songs mummy sang." Cole crouched into himself once he finished talking. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Sera."

"You didn't," she bristled. "I just feel bad for my tadwinks. Poor thing, being all alone on her birthday." Cole reached out to touch her, and she instinctively jumped back.

He put his hand back by his side. "I want to do something to make Kiora happy," he said. "But I need help."

"And what? You came to me to help you plan a party?" She asked, arms crossed.

"We should have a party?"

"Duh, it's her birthday, of course we'll have a party!" She said, rolling her eyes. Great. Just my rubbish luck to get stuck planning a party with Creepy the Ghost Boy, she thought. He looked up at her, and his closeness to eye contact made her shiver.

A wide, childish smile spread across his face. "I hope she likes her party!" He grinned, clapping his hands in front of him.

Well, then. Here we go.

• • ♡ • •

She made her way down to the tavern, looking for Iron Bull and his Chargers. If anyone could help throw a truly righteous party, it was them. She noticed the qunari in his usual chair, with a large black lump on his lap.

"Oi! Bull!" She yelled across the room, walking up to him. He chuckled quietly and held a finger to his lips, nodding down at the black lump. On closer inspection, the black mass turned out to be none other than Kiora, curled up on Bull's lap, fast asleep despite the loud music and conversations of the tavern.

"She's in one of her little states again," he said, laughing lowly. "Asked me where Socks was, and next thing I know, she's curled up on my lap." Socks was one of the Inquisitor's six cats. Sera hated cats, but Kiora liked them, so she made an exception just for them. "Just five minutes, Bull, I promise," he said, mocking her sleepy, whispery voice. "That was thirty minutes ago."

"Well, I was going to say that ol' Creepy and I are planning a party for her, but I can see you're busy," she rolled her eyes. She couldn't help the little pang of jealousy that always came along with seeing her mage all cuddled up with someone else—those big, squishy, human tits pressing up against someone else as she dozed away. Sera was just grateful that the Inquisitor wasn't in any danger of being swept off her feet by a man.

"Hmm? A party?"

"Yep! It's her birthday today," she grinned, letting her hand run through Kiora's silky bob of jet black hair. "And I'm letting Creepy tag along and help because it told me."

Bull shook his head, smiling. "Well, I'll keep her, uh, occupied while you work, then," he smiled. "Good luck." His eye wandered over to Cole, who stood shyly off to the side. He gave the ghost a thumbs-up, making him smile.

"We're gonna be using the Tavern's, uh, main room for her party, so, move her, will ya?"

Iron Bull laughed, nodding. "Sure thing."

"And being her back half past seven, yeah?"

"You can count on me."

Sera walked out the tavern, Cole following close by, leaving Kiora curled up on Bull's oversized lap.

"Alright, well, I guess we've got to go on a raid," she said, walking through the courtyard. She tried to suppress her shivers as he moved closer to her side.

"A raid?"

"Duh, kitchen raid!" She whispered, shaking her head. "You're always poking about in people's heads, so why don't you ever get the obvious stuff they're thinking?"

Cole looked down at his hands. "Dunno," he said. "Memories just happen. I don't control what I see." He paused. "And reading minds is too hard. Thoughts move so fast."

"Whatever, then," she huffed. "But I'm gonna make you useful." He brightened up at that. They walked close to the walls, approaching the doors to the kitchens. "We're gonna steal shit."

"If it's for Kiora, wouldn't it be easier to ask? She's the Inquisitor. They like her since she's so nice."

"Yeah, but they don't like me, and you creep 'em out," she said, looking back at him and shaking her head. "So that leaves one option: just steal shit!"

Cole puffed his cheeks in thought. "Okay."

Sera smiled at that. Maybe he could be more useful than she thought. "Alright, so, here's the plan," she said, squatting down on the ground, looking around to watch for anyone taking notice of them. Thankfully, they were fairly well hidden in the shadows of the castle. Cole copied her, crouching down. "They just got a shipment of pies late last night. Josie ordered 'em for allies or some shit." Cole nodded. "And I know tadwinks likes raspberry pies and cakes. That's why her tits are so big," she snorted, her voice quiet. Cole nodded, looking ever so serious. "Ugh, lighten up, Ghosty," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's no fun if you're all serious!"

"This should be fun?" He asked. "Even if we're stealing and working?"

"No, we're stealing and planning a party," she said, motioning with her hands to emphasize the point. "Party planning is fun." She stretched the word, feeling like she was talking to a baby. "Fun is fun. Don't be so serious, Creepy."

"Ah, okay," he said, smiling. "Thank you, Sera."

She shivered at his use of her name. "Yeah, yeah," she said. "Now get in there and use your weird Fade powers to nab a bunch of raspberry pies!"

Cole stood, furrowing his brow and nodding like a soldier. Then he looked down and smiled widely to show he was kidding around. Sera suppressed a smile at the action as she rolled her eyes and motioned with her thumb for him to go in. And then he was gone, vanished into thin air.

It'll probably take him a while, she thought, drumming her fingers against her legs as she sat down on the stone landing. Wait, did I just think of Creepy as a him? Ugh, no, he's an it! A thing! Wait... I did it again! She ran her hands through her hair, frustrated. Kiora's rubbing off on me, making me go all soft to weird shit! She leaned back against the wall, sighing. Kiora had that effect on people. Making them be nice to people they didn't like because she liked them. And, sure, maybe the creepy ghost was nice to her, but he was still a thing from the Fade, and Kiora was the only Fade-thing Sera liked. Because she was different. Kinda normal but not boring-normal.

Cole came back about five minutes later.

"I got pies," he said, holding up a bag he must've nabbed as well. Sera grinned, jumping to her feet to look inside. "I kept them in the boxes so they wouldn't break." They were all individually packaged in cute little white boxes tied with purple string.

"Frigging awesome," she muttered, smiling. "You're pretty useful, Creepy." Cole seemed to writhe in happiness at the compliment, and Sera tried to ignore it.

"What next?"

• • ♡ • •

The odd duo spent the next few hours running their not-errands—collecting other assorted desserts, finding Josephine's supply of fancy-pants party streamers, telling everyone that it was the Inquisitor's birthday, and clearing out the tavern for their own purposes. Cole proved amazingly useful in the last task. He'd just pop in, nicely ask those drinking to leave until seven, and them make them forget. He seemed to delight in helping Sera.

"Oi! Creepy!" Sera yelled from across the now mostly-abandoned tavern. It was currently just them and a decidedly neutral barkeep. Cole paused in his stringing up of purple streamers. "Just that last streamer, and I'm gonna need you to help me with one last thing!"

Cole nodded, pinning the last paper ribbon in place. "Yes, Sera?" He asked, popping over to where she stood in the room.

"Stop doing that!" She yelped, jumping back. "Use your weird little Fade feet!"

"Okay. Sorry."

"Ugh, whatever," she said. "You're good with animals, right?"

"Little ones," he said. "They're not scared of me like they are people. I'm... quiet and patient and they like that."

"Uh, yeah, sure," she said. "Well, you're gonna help me get tadwinks' cats so that they're here. She'll be right sad if they're off, uh, mousing or whatever while everyone else is all in here."

"Cats scratch at my ankles."

"Good thing you've got boots on, then," 

The found Socks in Sera's room, curled up in Kiora's favorite napping spot—the cushioned windowsill that let in warm, midday sunshine.

"Alright, you fat bastard!" She giggled, picking up the fattest black cat, Socks. He waved his four white paws in protest, but purred as he was picked up. "See, Creepy? Just pick 'em up. They're all stupid and fat and too lazy to do anything." She held Socks up by his tiny feline armpits, showing him off to Cole. The cat purred even louder, reaching out to paw at the spirit, who backed up slightly. "They like Fade-y shite, so you're probably fine." She made the fat cat look at her, and narrowed her eyes to establish dominance. "Now you listen here, you fat bastard," she said. "You're gonna jump down there and stay in the tavern, yeah?" The cat just stuck out his little pink tongue, and happily padded over to the balcony when Sera tossed him to the ground.

"Why did you drop him?" Cole asked, crouching down to watch Socks walk out of the room. "He's very small. That was a long way up for him."

"Cats are like living sacks of fat. You can toss 'em anywhere as long as they won't splatter when they hit the ground," she laughed. "It's gross when they do!" They heard a thump as Socks landed on a table below. "See? They just jump, so dropping 'em's no big deal."

Cole nodded. "Thank you for teaching me, Sera."

"Ugh, whatever. I was just a stupid cat fact." She tried not to let him onto the fact that knowing something someone else didn't made her quite proud of herself. He didn't need to know that.

Duke and Duchess were in the courtyard, eating some fancy flowers that Josephine had insisted upon. Sera was tempted to let the two thinner black cats keep eating, but Cole took it upon himself to grab Duchess, the cat passively allowing herself to be picked up. He smiled widely as she purred, rubbing her nose against his cheek, blue eyes closed in happiness at the scent of the Fade on him. Sera hoisted Duke up out of the flowerbed, groaning as he tried to nibble at her hair instead. They quickly dropped the two cats off at the tavern, watching them pad over to the fireplace by Socks.

Spook was hiding in the bushes by the tavern door, and Miss Match was napping on a crate by the kitchens. Patches was in the stables, rolling around in the sawdust by Blackwall's woodworking table. He was quite happy to have the fat, rambunctious little kitten off his hands. Cole was covered in wood chips as he carried the kitten back to the tavern, but he didn't seem to mind.

"One, two, three, four, five, six!" Sera counted off. "All of 'em! Finally!"

"They all enjoy the fireplace," Cole commented, sitting down cross-legged behind the napping cats. "It's warm. They like it."

"Stupid cats," Sera said, sticking her tongue out. "All they do is sleep and eat and cuddle." She paused. "I mean, I can see why tadwinks likes 'em."

Cole looked up at her. His blue eyes refused to meet her own greyish green. "I like Kiora's cats."

"They're only nice because they're hers." She paused. "It's almost seven," she said. "Help me unbox the pies and set 'em out."

She and Cole spent several minutes carefully setting the raspberry pies out on the tables, saving the prettiest one for the main table where Kiora would be sitting. She readjusted the special chair over five times. It had to be perfect.

"She will love it. This party will make her very happy."

She turned back to look at Cole. "What, can you see the future now, Creepy?"

He shook his head. "No. I just really think so," he said.

Ugh. Why is he so nice? Sera looked up as the tavern door opened, and saw Blackwall awkwardly making his way inside.

"Did I get the time wrong?" He asked, looking around at the empty room.

"Nope!" She said, leaning against the table. "But it'll be half an hour til tadwinks gets here, because we, you know, wanna make sure there's people here to surprise her!"

Blackwall smiled at that. "This is a real sweet thing you're doing, Sera," he said, taking a seat by the main table.

"I helped," Cole said softly, making Blackwall nearly jump out of his skin.

"Oh! Cole." He said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, did you come by earlier to pick up that cat?" Cole nodded. "Thought that was you," he said. "It was, well, a little fuzzy." Cole nodded again to show it wasn't a big deal.

Cassandra was the next to arrive, precisely at seven. "So you really did work all day?" She asked, taking notice of the mass of purple decorations. A cutesy, slightly messy sign was hung above the fireplace—a wooden board Sera had painted Happy Birthday Kiora!! on.

"Uh, yeah, I'm capable of work," Sera said, shrugging with a smug look on her face. "When I want."

"And stealing," Cassandra noted, looking around at the raspberry pies. They seemed to be in fancy pie pans that kept them nice and warm.

"Hey, it's a noble cause, yeah?"

Cassandra sighed. "I'll let you off this time," she grumbled. "But only because it's for the Inquisitor. But don't let that fool you into thinking you can just steal things without consequence, Sera."

"Shite, I was gonna nab your panties for tadwinks, later," Sera laughed. Cassandra made a tired, disgusted noise.

"Oi! You!" Sera yelled as she noticed the door being opened by Bull and his Chargers. "You're supposed to be here at half past, remember?" She strained to look to where Kiora was among them.

"Don't you worry," he said, smiling as he took his usual seat to the side of the tavern. "Krem's bringing her down then. They've been spending the day doing real boring things like talking about battle technique and paperwork," he grinned. "So this'll be an even better surprise."

"Oh, that's friggin' brilliant!"

• • ♡ • •

They only had to wait a couple minutes for Kiora to come down, lead by an obviously amused Krem, all sleepy-eyed and slow. That was her usual state.

"What-?"

"Happy birthday, tadwinks!" Sera yelled, running over to the mage and wrapping her up in a hug.

Kiora's sleepy eyes went wide, her mouth popping open in shock. "You... For me?" She seemed quite unable to process everything.

"Of course this is for you, dummy!" Sera laughed, kissing Kiora on the cheek. "It's your birthday, isn't it?"

"It is..." Her smile was nervous, but obviously genuine. "This is just... really unexpected."

"Your little ghost boy told me," Sera said. Cole waved timidly from across the room.

"Oh, what a sweetheart," Kiora giggled. She wiped a tear from her eye, smudging her eyeshadow a little. "And all of you, too," she smiled, tears still welling up in her pretty violet eyes. "This is all so sweet."

"Come on, it's not like I wouldn't do something for you!" Sera laughed, smushing her cheek against Kiora's. "Let's go eat pie, tadwinks!"

Kiora certainly looked delighted at the prospect of dessert. Kiora's full cheeks always puffed a little when she smiled, her lidded eyes becoming a little more squinty as a smile took up her face. She was the cutest human to ever exist, really. That wasn't just Sera's opinion, it was a fact.

Sera had a great evening. Kiora only nodded off twice for the hours the party lasted, which was quite the record for her. She and Sera took turns feeding each other forkfuls of raspberry pie until they couldn't eat any more. Kiora burned through at least three of her cigars, not without sharing them with whomever wanted to try, of course. She was quite the generous woman.

The night wrapped up eventually, people shuffling out one or two at a time after slow goodbyes.

"I ever tell you how comfy you are?" Sera asked through a yawn, wiggling a little to get into the perfect position on Kiora's lap.

"All the time," Kiora said, giggling softly. Her eyes were closed, one hand over the side of the tavern chair, stroking one of her cats. They were quiet for a moment, faint purring and a log popping in the fireplace all the sound left in the emptied room. The two of them had decided to linger around after everyone had already left for bed and guard shifts. "Cole," Kiora whispered suddenly, a little smile on her lips. Sera looked around, and noticed the ghostly figure just out of the corner of her eye. "Don't be shy," she said, laughing a little as she opened her eyes just the slightest amount. She could always see Cole perfectly, could always tell where he was.

The floor creaked ever so slightly as Cole walked over, the shuffling of his awkward little Fade-feet making his presence known.

"Yes, Kiora?" He asked, hands playing with one another and eyes downcast.

"I never got to properly thank you for helping Sera with all this," Kiora smiled, head tilting back as she looked over at the strange kid. "So, thank you, Cole."

Sera hated to admit it, but she liked hearing the two of them talk to each other. It was sort of funny, really, how they both had these whispery voices and spoke strangely about strange things.

"It was the right thing to do," Cole said quietly. He got this soft little smile on his pale lips when Kiora would talk to him. He reminded Sera of how Kiora's cats look when you give them gentle pats along their back despite the fact that they spent the afternoon swatting at your ankles, like they were so very grateful you weren't shooing them off. One of Kiora's cats circled around his ankles, making him jump a little. It would probably take him a while to get used to the fact that the cats actually liked him.

"Duchess seems to like you," Kiora laughed softly, watching Cole tentatively reach down to give the little lady-cat soft scratches behind her ear. "She's very friendly, isn't she?" Kiora really sounded like a mum when she talked about her cats. And Cole, sometimes. If Sera and her ever got married, Sera'd draw the line at adopting the ghost-boy.

"Careless but careful, keeping calm, quiet, quiet, call her over, keep a distance and let her close it, such a creature shouldn't exist here, it's too cold, too contained for such a kind little thing," Cole whispered, squatting down to let Duchess into his lap. "They are kind when you are kind."

Kiora hummed in agreement and wrapped her free arm tighter around Sera's waist. "It's been very nice spending a birthday with someone other than the Tower's mouser," she said, a nostalgic smile on her lips. The cat she was stroking had began to lick her hand, making her giggle. Kiora's giggles were the cutest sound. She yawned, tiny tears pricking at the corners of her lidded eyes. Sera could tell it was nearly time for her to get her deep sleep for the day.

"You should go to bed," Cole said quietly, not looking up from Duchess.

"I should," Kiora sighed. Sera slid off her lap, and smiled as she helped the fatigued mage get back on her feet. They were probably decently numb by now, as Sera had been cuddling on her lap for a good while.

"Come on, tadwinks," Sera smiled, interlacing her hand with Kiora's. "I don't want to drag you up the stairs when you pass out halfway."

Kiora rolled her eyes a little, smiling. "Alright," she nodded. She looked down to where Cole sat with Duchess in his lap. "Darling, you stay here, okay?" She bent down and gave Duchess a scratch behind the ear. "Keep Cole company, alright, doll?" Duchess gave a little mewl of agreement. Sera wasn't sure if there was magic involved or if they were just really smart cats.

"Is she alright being away from you?" Cole sounded unsure, like he was tempted to just hoist the cat up and put her back in Kiora's arms.

"She sneaks off to eat fancy leaves and piss in Cullen's boots," Sera said before Kiora could go into a long-winded, whispery, dreamy speech about how cats were free spirits and obeyed only laws they saw as just. Sera'd heard the speech at least three times before. "They do what they want."

Cole nodded, serious. "She has free will."

"Yeah, sure," Sera shrugged. "Night, ghost-y boy."

"Goodnight, Cole," Kiora smiled. "If you happen to visit the Fade, don't be afraid to come say hello."

"I won't forget," Cole said back, that soft smile back on his face. "Goodnight, Kiora, Sera. I hope you enjoy your sleep."

As they walked back to Kiora's room, Sera aching for Kiora's soft bed, the mage spoke, so quiet Sera nearly missed what she said.

"This was the nicest birthday I've ever had."

Sera tried to laugh off the compliment, shrugging. "Course it was, I planned it," she said, rolling her eyes.

Kiora's smile was so genuine it twisted Sera's heart a little. "Of course." Her warm hand squeezed Sera's a little tighter, and Sera really hoped she'd never let go.

[apple-ships]

APPY’S HEARTFELT GOODBYE

I’ve been thinking about this for a little bit anddd I’ve decided to leave self ship tumblr 😔 I’m not deleting this blog though because I like keeping an archive so people can go back through my posts 🥰 Love you all and thank you everyone so much for the support over the near year I’ve had this blog for! I’ve had a great time and I’ve made some great friends here :)

More explanation under the cut, but TLDR it’s nobody’s fault, I just realized it’s not for me!

Hmm this is gonna be more of a ramble than anything else, but first off I don’t really like gushing about my own ships ?? Answering ask games is fun but I get so shy and nervous posting anything publicly, I’m shy even gushing to close friends 😭 I could just never get up the nerve to post anything about my ships, even just making tags for them on my carrd gave me anxiety :’3

ALSO I’m just so slow asf on tumblr skljdsLKJ I just let asks sit forever 👀 I feel so bad knowing people like my blog and going months without posting anything  😭 I wanna make more of my own “imagine your f/o _____” posts but I get all in my head about it and can hardly ever get up the courage to post em

god and The DiscourseTM I know I don’t personally talk about The DiscourseTM on here but I see it everywhere and it gets to me >:T I hate seeing people fight over something that should be fun 😭 That’s all I’ll say on that, I can and have gone off way too hard about it to people :’) Do me a favor and be kind to your fellow self shippers ok? Follow only the people you’re comfortable following and NEVER let people push your boundaries, but please be kind to people who haven’t done anything to warrant any hate 😭 Ok this is me getting off my soapbox: 🚶‍♀️

BUT overall! this just isn’t the right community for me, I love self shipping and I’m DEFINITELY not planning on stopping any time soon, but after trying out being a public blog for a while (and one with a decent chunk of followers at that !! thanks again everyone for your support I love you all :’0) I just realized that I do better on my own with it , the pressure of people seeing my ships and having to worry about sharing and self ship etiquette and all that stuff is just too much for one little apple :’3 

I wouldn’t trade the memories I made here for the world ! But it’s gotten to a point where it’s more of a negative than a positive for me :’3 Thank you everyone so much and remember that your f/os love you to death!! ❤

If anyone wants my discord I’m happy to give it out, and since I’m not deleting this blog I’m gonna keep my ask box open for the heck of it 😊 Send your love hate questions comments concerns if ya’d like!