josephine: who are you
me: i’m not you at all. i’m anxious and loud and said my wife’s ex-boss’ baby was ugly in front of her at a wedding because i thought she couldn’t hear me
josephine: who are you
me: i’m not you at all. i’m anxious and loud and said my wife’s ex-boss’ baby was ugly in front of her at a wedding because i thought she couldn’t hear me
when a partner alludes to our characters being parents together?? i floor it straight to that destination
i am NESTING, i am a BIRD 🦅 THAT is the shit i screech for.
make more fat characters 🔪 you’ll give thin characters big asses, thick thighs, and big tiddies but you won’t let them have stomach rolls and love handles?? cowardly
i need to write more in-depth about josephine’s mother, esperanza, and their relationship with one another. it’s a contentious one for obvious reasons (josephine as heir / eldest and a woman and all the expectations of both), but then there’s also esperanza’s motivations, life experiences, and traumas and how she works through those or (in this case) passes that cycle of trauma onto her children even unintentionally. she isn’t a bad person at all—just the boomer equivalent of a parent who really needed therapy before having children, compounded by thedas’ sexism / victorian purity.
she loves her children, obviously, but between them and having a husband who copes with negative emotions through art / away from his family, there is a lot going on for her psychologically.
listening to this book my therapist gave me at work like:
“Fina….” Had they never told her? It was Yvette now who looked at Josephine solemnly. “Fina, you know Mama and Papa don’t like to worry us. You know Mama would rather die than admit defeat or hardship and Papa buries himself in his work to cope.” She fought a wave of fresh sobs. “I had to find out from Laurien and Antoine when they came. You know there are places your Inquisitor Lavellan cannot reach. They’re safe on the other side, but half the city has been torn apart. There are three rifts bordering the estate alone.”
Yvette took a deep breath. “The Crows are not enough to defend the city from these horrors. I can only tell you what Laurien and Antoine told me, but none of the ships they came in on were going back. Nowhere is safe from the Breach, not even the farthest North. Not Seheron, not Par Vollen, not Rivain.” Her fingers dug into Josephine’s forearms. “Ferelden and Orlais are safer because the Inquisition is here–why do you think people keep coming? It’s the only truly safe place in Thedas.”
She clasped Josephine’s forearms tightly, her tear stained expression weary but resolved. “Fina, I know I cannot ask your blessing, but Mama can’t break what’s already broken and I can’t lose you again. I will cut out my tongue, I will shadow your every move, I will never take a breath without your permission. I will do whatever it takes to stay here by your side, even if I must throw myself on the mercy of your Inquisitor. If House Montilyet is to survive this, we must be together alone.”
The first word that came to mind, stumbling out of her mouth in a fumbling gait, was simply, “No.”
Yvette’s mind was one of whimsy and speculation. So often did she embellish her tales that Josephine had grown accustomed to believing only the minute details. What she was saying was improbable at best and reprehensible at worst! Josephine would have known if that were the case. Their mother would have told her; if not Esperanza, then surely their father or Antoine.
“You choose now of all times to tell stories,” she chastised her angrily, her warmth evaporating into an icy mist. “You weaken yourself to near-death, and then you come to me with your wild imaginations about destruction back home!” Even as she berated her sister, the cracks in the foundation were already crumbling. Yvette had no motivations to lie, not about this—about family. It was that, and Josephine knew that at the center of her fury was a smothering, bone-crushing guilt. To know that she had left them alone, virtually defenseless… what sort of daughter and sister was she? How selfish she had been.
“You ask too much!” Josephine maintained, drawing back from Yvette to stare directly into her eyes. All semblance of composure was gone. Now, she was just an older sister, pleading for Yvette to see reason. “What have I done that you would want to hurt me so? To sit here before me, half-dead, and ask that I put a weapon in my sister’s hand, and send her off to war? Have you lost your mind, Yvette?” She rose to stand, hands forming fists at her sides with their fingernails digging half-moons into her palms.
“No,” the word was a stronger echo of the one past. “No,” she said again like the dull roar of a raging sea. “You will lie here; I will post a guard outside this door; and you will not move an inch among this stronghold unless I say so. Do you understand?” The question was rhetorical, as evidenced by Josephine turning her to Yvette to face the door. One hand, now shaking, rose to cover her face only to find that her cheeks were wet with tears. “Andraste, help us all,” she murmured now in the King’s tongue almost unconsciously, desperate to self-soothe.
( literary sexts // accepting )
JOSEPHINE [ @chiefambassador ] WROTE: “It’s not so much that I want to kiss you. I want to relearn vocabulary words from the shape of your mouth. All my poems are yours first.” — written in a letter to Cassandra
CASSANDRA WAS A SUIT OF armor before she was a woman: a blade and a buckler and a battlecry that shook unrighteous bones. That was how the masses perceived her, and she sank further beneath the wave of their (mis)understanding each time she stepped outside her door. She had long ago ceased to wonder when her heart would beat for love, not for battle, and had fallen instead into wondering why she had not been made for love. (“You’re not a battering ram,” Vivienne had once said to her. “I am when it suits me,” she’d replied, and she was even when it did not. The Maker had not made her to fit another form.)
She could have it only vicariously, dreaming through the eyes of poets and storybook heroines who yearned — yet might have that yearning fulfilled. She had never considered herself sympathetic to demons, but if they felt even a fraction of what she had felt in the quietest nights utterly alone with her longing and its uselessness, then perhaps she could understand them. And, perhaps it was a sin: this desire for companionship, for understanding, for love. A sin to want beyond what the Maker had allotted her. Thus she put it to rest with a care a Mortalitasi should envy. Thus it rose again and beat against the walls of its tomb, her heart. Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum.
Few were they to whom she would admit her literary interests, and none were they in whom she would confide what it touched in her. Not yet. Not when this knowledge nearly broke her beneath its enormity. Best not to feed it — but how dangerously close she had recently come, and closer still with each letter exchanged.
Josephine was a disarming woman. They had come to a point in their association where a mere glance from her brilliant brown eyes was sufficient to make Cassandra’s armor fall away, piece by piece. How exposed she felt at times, but light! And in that lightness, floated forth intimacies. A missed memory of home, a tale time nearly forgot, a poem pounding at her soul long after it was read. These they passed between them even when Cassandra was away, and she cherished more than she could express. More even than she expected. A sealskin pouch had found its way into her essential possessions to guard each letter while she traveled. She had chided herself for the indulgence, but Maker, it lifted the heart just to lay eyes upon it!
In a fit of boldness, she wrote in her last letter: “You’ve shared many of your favorite poems with me, but have you written any yourself? You are very eloquent.” (“Unlike me,” went unwritten. Whatever form they took, she deemed her words clunky at best, and often wondered how Lady Montilyet with the honey-gold voice could bear to converse with her.)
The reply at first was perfectly innocuous. Answers to inquiries regarding her welfare and that of her family. Further thoughts on the selection of small topics that populated the landscape of their correspondence. Then to the poetry. The structure and form, the language she might employ, the topic that might be chosen — something built between the lines the further Cassandra read. It drew her like the tide, and yet she drank it down, heedless of drowning. Finally: ❝It’s not so much that I want to kiss you. I want to relearn vocabulary words from the shape of your mouth. All my poems are yours first.❞
Impossible to say which came first: the scrape of her chair across the inn room floor or the sharp intake of breath through her closed teeth. Regardless, the pages of the letter were spread on the table where they’d been dropped, and she paced the floor with one hand over her mouth, the other on her hip. She was aflame. She couldn’t breathe. The walls were too close and Josephine too far. How could she pen that so casually? Could she not have laced the pages with poison instead? That would have been more efficient if the object was to torture her — and she was now tortured. Indeed, the poison would less painful. If Josephine was near …
Andraste forgive the indecency, but if Josephine was near, she would teach her every word she had ever learned in every language she had ever heard with such fervent devotion to her desire. And, as no lesson could be successful without repetition — She halted that thought with a bite to her knuckle and all but threw herself to the bed. Look at her, completely overcome like some lovestruck schoolgirl. She’d faced down dragons, for Heaven’s sake.
Why did this make her heart beat faster than battle?
Why was she now halted who had never faltered before?
you are wistful goodbyes and unspoken promises. you are warmth and comfort for others. but sometimes you give so much of yourself that it leaves you cold inside. it’s bittersweet, offering other people the care and affection you crave for yourself as well, but you wouldn’t do any less if it means the people you love are content. you’re very grounded, but you long for things you can’t quite name - perhaps a time when your heart was full and your spirit free.
tagged by: bishop <3
(youtuber voice) like, subscribe, comment down below if you would show up to josephine’s tea parties and not leave her on read like some people. 🙄😤
@chiefambassador· liked for a starter from raul!
“are you sure you’re doing okay? i know they can be a handful, if you need to take a break of any kind i think i should be able to pull you away for a moment.”
“Have I given the impression that I am incapable of seeing this negotiation to fruition?” Josephine asks somewhat more tersely than she would have liked while unknowingly white-knuckling the ornate quill in her hand. “I have endured worse, I assure you,” she maintains, thankful for a moment away from the conference with two particularly trying Orlesian Comtes. Beneath her breath, aside to Raul, she confides, “Make no mistake. They are foul human beings.”
@divinesleft said: i would die for you a thousand times.
A romantic sentiment if there ever was one.
Josephine gazes at Leliana, transfixed, as the moonlight coils around her with all the grace of a mythical serpent. She looks otherworldly, heralded by the moon and stars, draped in naught but silver tapestry as her gown. At times, it is easy to forget that she exists among the living. Her beauty is the kind that poets laud and writers compose ballads, likening mortal women to gods. Surely, and rather blasphemously, she would put the likes of Andraste herself to shame.
“Yet all I ask is that you live but once,” she demands with a soft but passionate fervor. Her hands reach out, fingertips skating over the hard lines of her jaw. She is flesh and blood, warm to the touch in spite of the ethereal glow. “You entertain death too much, amore mio. Come back to the light, for a change,” Josephine seeks to draw Leliana closer, enveloping her in her arms. “Sei la persona a cui tengo di più.”
@weptfreedom said: ‘ is anyone anywhere happy? ’
“I would like to believe so,” she answers quietly, thoughtfully. “The world becomes too much to bear without the hope that there is light that remains, however far,” Josephine observes Alanari with an unspoken concern, masked by mere curiosity. She does not purport to know what they experience or feel, yet she does worry—even when they may not want her to. There is a moment’s hesitation that preludes her next remark, and it is clear how carefully she chooses her words.
“You will know a time of sunlight on your face again, Alanari. One day soon, it is my greatest wish that you find all the happiness that you have been denied. You deserve nothing less.”
@dracaeons said: ‘ there is so much stubborn hope in the human heart. ’ from sataa!
Josephine is looking ahead, past the Frostbacks, with her hands resting against the stone wall of the ramparts when Sataa’s makes their observation. She smiles momentarily to herself, allowing the words to settle, privately dwelling on how odd day-to-day human life must be for elves, qunari, and dwarves. Glancing up and to the side, she studies Sataa for a few seconds longer before she says, “I suppose we do,” her tone is warm—in stark contrast to the chill of Skyhold. “I do not think we would have survived as long as we have without a healthy dose of stubbornness. Some more than others, wouldn’t you say?” Laurien and Yvette come to mind, which sparks a fleeting glint of humor in her brown eyes.
“Although, it is not a uniquely human trait, thankfully.”
god, you know what i have been obsessed with in movies/tv shows since i was a kid? during intense dialogues between two people in scene and their eyes track their face… just that little back and forth motion of their eyes. i don’t know what it is about it… i guess the intimacy of watching someone’s micro-expressions and how their eyes shift as they’re looking/studying.
this is such a niche fixation i’m sure, but YOU KNOW?
one thing I believe should be more heavily influenced in the roleplay community ( that really isn’t respected ) is the RIGHT OF REFUSAL. not everyone has to say yes to a roleplay, even if you delivered sugar-coated candied comments abt their portrayal / characterization / etc. if you give those things, it should be from your HEART, and not because you are attempting to ENTICE them into writing with you.
with refusal comes MAJOR ANXIETY – most writers don’t feel comfortable saying that they don’t want to write with someone, and it is because they want to avoid hurting their feelings. believe it or not, there are KIND ways of telling someone you don’t have an interest in writing with them – and those ways should be respected. do not make someone FEEL BAD for not wanting to write with you; and do not FORCE them to tell you their reasoning. as long as they are kind, you should respect their decision and not be rude towards them.
please respect the right of refusal.
✰ — — — BOOK SENTENCE STARTERS
‘ it is only once in awhile that you see someone whose electricity and presence matches your at that moment. ’
‘ we could have been happy. i know that, and it is perhaps the hardest thing to know. ’
‘ i mean, i hope you’re happy, but the sky is still the sky without you and i’m not surprised by that anymore. ’
‘ that didn’t happen, of course. things never happened the way i imagined them. ’
‘ we need never be hopeless because we can never be irreparably broken. ’
‘ i still catch myself feeling sad about things that don’t matter anymore. ’
‘ i used to think i was tough, but then i realized i wasn’t. i was fragile and i wore thick fucking armor. and i hurt people so they couldn’t hurt me. and i thought that was what being tough was, but it isn’t. ’
‘ perhaps one did not want to be loved as much as to be understood. ’
‘ i tried so hard to be everything you wanted, i forgot who i was. ’
‘ is anyone anywhere happy? ’
‘ we didn’t talk about anything heavy or light. ’
‘ we were just there together and that was enough. ’
‘ i looked and looked at you and i knew, as clearly as i know that i will die, that i loved you more than anything i had ever seen or imagined on earth. ’
‘ you think ‘okay, i get it, i’m prepared for the worst,’ but you hold out that small hope, see, and that’s what fucks you up. that’s what kills you. ’
‘ i belong to moments. not to people. ’
‘ loving you was the easiest thing i ever did, even when it was hard, it was easy. loving you was like breathing. ’
‘ the you who you are tonight is the same you i was in love with yesterday. the same you i’ll be in love with tomorrow. ’
‘ i’ve seen a lot of beautiful things with a heavy heart. ’
‘ but the heart has its own memory and i have forgotten nothing. ’
‘ after awhile you could get used to anything. ’
‘ i crave a dangerous kind of love – one that breaks hearts and bed springs. ’
‘ just because you love someone, that doesn’t mean your lives will fit together. ’
‘ there is so much stubborn hope in the human heart. ’
‘ be patient with me. my heart is heavy. ’
‘ my heart talks about nothing but you. ’
‘ i want you by my side so that i never feel alone again. ’
‘ i think too much. i don’t feel enough. ’
‘ i might confess that it’s you i love. ’
‘ maybe some things aren’t supposed to last. maybe they mean more that way. ’
‘ i was supposed to be having the time of my life. ’
‘ i hope i’ll always believe in love even if love shames me and tries to destroy me. i’ll hope i’ll want to start again. ’
‘ what does it mean to mourn what never happened? ’
‘ i’m awfully difficult but i do know when i love someone and i’ve loved you ever since i can remember. ’
‘ the sad truth is that the truth is sad and that what you want does not matter. ’
‘ you can’t leave yet. i’m not finished falling in love with you. ’
‘ i’m not sorry for who i had to become in order to survive. ’
‘ i didn’t necessarily feel like dying, but i’d been feeling a lot like not being alive. ’
‘ with me, you’re number one and there isn’t even a number two. ’
‘ you shouldn’t miss people who don’t miss you, right? ’
‘ i tried so hard to be everything you wanted, i forgot who i was. ’
‘ do you know how hard it is to say nothing? when every atom of you strains to do the opposite? ’
‘ our only kiss was like an accident – a beautiful gasoline rainbow. ’
‘ that’s what’s so damn difficult about making the decision to leave. whether it’s the right or wrong call, it hurts just the same. ’
‘ everybody should have to love, and it should last as long as your life does. ’
‘ loving you was the easiest thing i ever did. even when it was hard, it was easy. loving you was like breathing. ’
‘ i love you. i don’t always understand you, but i love you. ’
‘ how do you go back to being strangers with someone who has seen your soul? ’
‘ break my heart. break it a thousand times if you like. it was only ever yours to break anyway. ’
‘ just so you know, i fucking loved you. i fucking loved the daylights out of you. ’
‘ i hope you find someone you can’t live without. i really do. and i hope you never have to know what it’s like to try and live without them. ’
‘ i think we almost loved each other, but the only thing i was sure about is that almost wasn’t good enough. ’
‘ of course i miss you. one minute you were here and now you’re gone. even if i didn’t love you, i’d miss you. and i loved the fuck out of you. ’
‘ people don’t always get what they deserve in this world. ’
‘ what if you find your soulmate at the wrong time? ’
‘ you drink a little too much and try a little too hard and you go home to a cold bed and think, ‘that was fine.’ and your life is a long line of fine. ’
‘ i was so fucking soft for you and you ruined me. ’
‘ time will pass; these moods will pass; and i will, eventually, be myself again. ’
‘ and i’m over it, i’m over it, i promise i’m over it. but it still hurts sometimes. ’
‘ ‘almost’ is the worst way to love someone. ’
‘ i don’t know what i think. all i know is that most of the time i would rather be with you than anyone else i know. ’
‘ you are pretty much the only thing that makes me get up in the morning. ’
‘ what did my fingers do before i held you? what did my heart do with its love? ’
‘ it has been a beautiful fight. still is. ’
‘ stop insisting on clearing your head – clear your fucking heart instead. ’
‘ too often, the only escape is sleep. ’
‘ it’s necessary for me sometimes just to be alone and quiet and doing nothing. ’
‘ you have a place in my heart no one else ever could have. ’
‘ i do love you – i can’t change that. ’
‘ come and kiss me and let’s forget. ’
‘ i don’t ask you to love me always like this, but i ask you to remember. ’
‘ somewhere inside of me there will always be the person i am tonight. ’
‘ i used to build dreams about you. ’
‘ i love you so much, much, much that it just hurts every minute i’m with you. ’
‘ sometimes people just want to be happy, even if it’s not real. ’
‘ every nerve in my body could be damaged or numb and i’d still be able to feel you. ’
‘ i may be in pain, but i am not weak. ’
‘ you look like a dream i’ve never had before. ’
‘ you can live a good life without ever knowing real love. ’
‘ you are as real as anyone, and your doubts make you more real, not less. ’
‘ the one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person. ’
‘ the only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open. ’
‘ it’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness. we have no scar to show for happiness. ’
‘ just for the record, the weather today is calm and sunny, but the air is full of bullshit. ’
‘ just for the record, the weather today is partly suspicious with chances of betrayal. ’
‘ just for the record, the weather today is bitter with occasional bits of jealous rage. ’
‘ the weather today is partly angry, leading to resignation and ultimatums. ’
‘ for the record, knowing when people are only pretending to like you isn’t such a great skill to have. ’
Life-Saving Veterinary Treatment for Mabel
This weekend (5/31/2021) our dog Mabel very suddenly went into acute liver failure. Because it’s a holiday weekend here, almost every vet and emergency center was closed or at capacity. We drove over an hour to get her in to the only place I could find with room to take an overnight hospitalization, and the bill was hefty. Pictured below is what 1 night + some basic diagnostics has run us.
Mabel is currently still hospitalized, though now she’s at our usual vet. They are continuing treatment for her and are hopeful. I left them a 300$ deposit, and have no idea what their charges will run. We don’t know how long she will be there, but we want her healthy and home.
Please consider sending us a few bucks if you can spare it. This bill isn’t something we can handle, but we want our baby back.
We can accept assistance via:
Thank you for anything you can spare! If you can’t help financially, please consider signal boosting <3
@weptfreedom said: Send 👂 to overhear my muse talking about yours.
“You ask too much of them!” Josephine interjects, which lapses Cullen into a brief silence. “Have you no consideration for all that we have put them through? Does it cross your mind? It should,” From inside the war room, her shoes can be heard clicking against the stone floor. “There is not a night that I lie down to sleep that I do not think about everything they have done since the Conclave.”
“There are far greater matters of importance. The entire nation—”
“I am well aware of the stakes of our pursuits, Commander,” she does not allow him to finish, feeling the sting of ego at his assumption. “Does their welfare mean so little to you that you would not stop to take into account what you demand of them?”
“In times of war, we do not have such luxuries, Ambassador. The Inquisitor may not have asked for that mark, but they have it. It is their burden to bear.”
Josephine resists the urge to scoff and shakes her head.
“If we abandon our compassion in conflict, we are no better than the enemies we face,” her voice steels. “You cannot, in good conscience, ask them to commit to such an act.”
“With all due respect, Josephine, that is not your call to make.”
“It is,” Josephine corrects him swiftly. “This course of action is unconscionable. It borders on barbaric. Their Worship would never condone it.”
“Then allow Lavellan to decide.”
“That you would even present such an option,” she sighs, releasing the tension gathered up tight as barbed wire in her chest. “No. They have done more than enough. I shall see to this in their stead.”
“You? In what manner—?”
“I owe them that much!” Josephine insists fiercely, turning on her heel as she had been heading toward the large door. “In fact, we owe them more than any of us could ever repay them.” When Cullen looks as though he may object, she intervenes for a final time. “You will let me do this. I am not asking for your permission. I am simply stating what I intend to do.”
The air between them crackles with tension, but Josephine does not want to argue with this anymore. As she grasps the handle of the door and pries it open, she is surprised to find Alanari there. Her cheeks darken, and for a fraction of a second, she diverts her eyes only to reroute them to hold the Inquisitor’s gaze.
“Your Worship,” she bows her head slightly, seeking passage around Alanari so that she may return to her office.