Josephine headcanons for Josephine appreciation day!

  • Josephine works late, most nights. The Inquisitor enters her study, walking quietly over to her desk, and pressing their lips to her brow. “Come to bed?” they ask, and she smiles up at them tiredly, answering with “of course, dear.”
  • Sometimes Josephine takes a break from her work, and wanders through the courtyards and gardens of Skyhold, relishing the sensation of the sun upon her skin. 
  • (This is the same sensation she feels when the Inquisitor smiles at her. A simple gesture, yet it is filled with love and adoration, and it warms her heart too.)
  • The Inquisitor forgets to eat, sometimes. She tracks them down, armed with a platter of food and eating utensils, and raises an eyebrow. “I forgot,” the Inquisitor says, sheepishly. Then they smile a little. “At least tell me there is enough for two?” the Inquisitor asks, and she replies with “you know there is,” smiling gently at them. 
  • She sits next to Leliana at supper, and she laughs at Dorian and Sera’s friendly banter, at the way the Bull and Blackwall joke with each other. At the other end of the table, Solas and Cole speak in quiet murmurs, and her lips curl into a smile as she watches them.
  • Josephine listens to Varric’s tales when she has time, and discusses the Circles and their politics with Vivienne. She compliments Cassandra’s roses and remarks upon the Seeker’s green thumb.
  • She is no warrior or rogue: her greatest weapons are her words and her tact, and years of experience as an ambassador. Yet she carries blades of steel, hidden in her sleeves and strapped to her legs, and she knows how to use them - she has used them already, and she will use them again if need be. She will not always be protected by guards and soldiers or agents of the Inquisition, and Josephine Montilyet will do what it takes to survive. This - the Inquisition - is too important. The fate of Thedas depends upon it and the Inquisitor, and she must be here. She is an adviser, and this is a title and and position that carries weight.
  • (But she is strong.)

He could feel her before he could see her, could feel every molecule in his body bringing him closer to her. His heart was pounding furiously with each step and he knew she would be there when he rounded the corner of Gold’s shop onto the main street, knew it with every fiber of his being. But still this did not prepare him.

He froze in his tracks and drank in the sight of her, his eyes hungrily finding every new detail he had missed over the past weeks. Her hair was longer, he noticed, and how he wished he could touch that hair, run his fingers through it. It took him but a moment to realize that he could do just that - he was no longer dreaming and she truly stood before him now. And just like that his feet were moving again, the gravity between them exerting its ever-present pull in her direction. He thinks perhaps he must have called out her name, because she is turning towards him, but then she is in his arms and he can’t even remember his own name, let alone what his lips may have uttered.

His arms draw her in and he does what he had been thinking of only a moment ago, burying his hand in her tresses, his eyes falling closed as he takes a steadying breath. He feels her arms wrapped tightly around him and in that moment everything is as it should be. He can feel her chest rising and falling against his own, her warm breath tickling his ear, and he wonders how he ever survived a moment away from her.

He feels a small rush of cool air as she pulls away from him and he is momentarily stricken by the loss of her, but then her lips find his, her kiss soft and yielding, and his fear is replaced with a sort of fierce determination – he will never let her go again. Her hands travel down his back and he shivers, his grip on her loosening just a little as they draw apart. Not willing to relinquish her just yet, he leans forward ever so slightly until his forehead rests against hers, his fingers still buried in the hair at the nape of her neck.

Only then does he open his eyes to find her gazing back at him. That perfect brown he could drown in seemed darker than he remembered, and he realizes that her eyes are shining with tears that pool up and then spill over, falling freely down her cheeks. Gingerly, he brushes them away with the back of his hand, causing her to smile, and his heart stutters. It’s the smile he never thought he would see again, the one he thought of every time he closed his eyes.

He doesn’t think he could possibly feel any more whole than he does in this moment until she whispers, so quietly he almost doesn’t hear it, “You’re home.” And he realizes she is right, he is home, so long as he is with her.

imagine kageyama trying to confess to hinata using cheesy pick up lines he found on the internet.

take 1: “did it hurt…when fell from heaven?”

kageyama: did it hurt?

hinata: huh?

kageyama: when you…you…got hit by my toss? i told you to be careful you dumbass dumbass hinata!!!!

hinata: what’s the matter with you???

take 2: “boyfriend material”

kageyama: do you know what my shirt’s made of?

hinata: uhhh, cotton i think? ask kiyoko-san?

kageyama: *face palms*

take 3

kageyama: hey hinata. do your legs hurt from running through mymindallnight???? *wheezes*

hinata: oi kageyama, where you saying something?

kageyama: *almost in tears*

kageyama is so distracted (because “dumbass hinata making confessing so hard”) that he slips during practice. he stays at the nurse’s office to wait for his parents to pick him up. hinata hands him a juice box with a letter that says:

“You may fall from the sky, you may fall from a tree, but the best way to fall…is in love with me.”

kageyama overheats.


I just can't decide if I want a silly, brave, Gryffindor Earl who rushes into dangerous situations to save those he cares about, or silly, loving, Hufflepuff Earl who believes in everyone he meets. Forgive me, but HP AUs are my life source.