There are two little details here when Solas presents Skyhold to the Inquisitor.
When he comes in the shot from behind the Inquisitor, his expression changes swiftly to a smile as he makes eye contact with them. Because it changes so quickly, I was under the assumption that he was smirking, like a right bastard. Instead, it’s actually a grimace, and I was actually more interested in that look than the one I initially perceived.
When I thought he was smirking, I thought it was just another mark of arrogance. “You are welcome for the castle Inquisitor. See that you look after it; I’m giving it to you on loan after all.” I didn’t count for the irritated look when it finally came into view. It could be from the steep climb up the mountain to get to see it, so he could be winded, but it also looks…pensive, like he doesn’t want to go there again, like he’d really rather not let the Inquisition stay there or by extension return to the fortress.
By extension, watching his friendly smile melt back into his focused, normal expression probably doesn’t hold much wait. He’s smiling to put on a show, of course, though it’s interesting that he bothers with looking pleasant at all. He isn’t scowling after them, or upset, that’s simply his neutral expression. It’s interesting that he would bother being the happy helper in this case when, honestly, I’m not convinced it was necessary.
Either way, giving and old fortress you’ve been in before to a new order would be nerve-wracking to anyone.
imagine when Jason is reading and he gets this beautiful look on his face and you know he’s lost in the world of his book and he just looks so peaceful and pensive and its like nothing bad has even happened to him
This morning my boyfriend, whose first language is not English, was getting ready for work and I was complaining about how out of synch our schedules have been lately. I said, “We’re passing each other like ships in the night”
And my boyfriend looked confused and said, “Shits in the night?”
I decided to roll with it and I was like, “Yeah you know when one person gets up in the middle of the night to go take a covert shit and then a couple of hours later the other person does the same thing and neither of them realize it. It’s a metaphor.”
And he just looked really pensively out the window and said, “So true. We’re like shits in the night.”
In this edition of #DrawandWrite, we have splunge4me2art‘s beautiful sketch of Tom Hiddleston. I feel he looks incredibly pensive, and so I imagined he’s just fallen in love.
I only saw her for a minute or two. But that was enough. I am a romantic, but sometimes I wonder if I am a romantic in public only. In private, I have ever doubted that such things like thunderbolts at first sight truly exist. Billions of people in this world, what are the odds of coming across that one person who ticks all of your boxes?
She bumped into me on the street. Literally bumped, I should say, not metaphoric. I was coming out of Carluccio’s and a fraction of a second before she nearly knocked me over, I think I saw it about to happen… and I let it.
She was all apologies and mortification. Her purse had dropped, spilling her things all over the sidewalk and as I helped her gather it all up I tried to assure her there was no harm done. Her (beautiful, glowing) face was a wonderful shade of rising pink as she continued to stammer her apologies. I tried to hide my delighted laughter but I think my efforts were all for naught because she took the last of her things from my hand (such soft skin touching my own!) and began to back away.
I took her hand and asked her not to go. I asked for her name. I knew somewhere in my soul that I couldn’t let her go. I acted purely on foolish instinct. Anna… Her name tripped and bounced around my head, echoing, the repetition of it was as if I was trying to etch it into my very soul.
I asked if I could perhaps buy her a cup of tea as an apology for being so rude as to step into her distracted path. She smiled so brightly at me I felt my knees weaken. She’d love to, but she had an appointment just then, an appointment she’d been worried about, hence her distraction on the pavement.
The crushing disappointment I felt just then must have shown on my face for she quickly glanced up at me and bestowed such a forlorn expression on me that I nearly raised my hand to her face to smooth it away. I stopped myself though. I didn’t want to frighten her by being creepy. Even carried away on lustful hormones, I can remember decorum.
An exchange of phone numbers, followed by a longing glance over my shoulder as she continued on her journey and I was secure in the knowledge that I would see this wondrous creature again soon. She left me reeling, however, and so here I sit in the little shop I was going to bring her to, and I feel pensive and weirdly anxious.