#coldwaughtered

Yes, friend!!! Obi-Wan should write one, that's exactly the right vibe! I can think of one poet Obi-Wan fic off hand and it's perfect, which to me suggests that we would benefit from more poet Obi-Wan fics. Some ideas:

Anakin is a prince or duke or something and commissions struggling poet Obi-Wan to write a poem about why the empire is so great. Rebel sympathizer Obi-Wan writes about how handsome and charming Anakin is instead. Kisses and treason ensue.

Cyrano de Bergerac kind of a thing except Anakin is in love with Padmé and asks for Obi-Wan's help wooing her. Obi-Wan writes him a bunch of poems that Anakin eventually (tortuously) realizes are not describing Padmé at all but are describing him.

Ooh or maybe libertine poet Obi-Wan seduces scandalized priest Anakin (I've never seen a priest Anakin!) with his pretty words and extreme handsomeness.

Hi there! Not a bother at all. I’m always happy to help. Recently I’ve been doing this with all my B&W gifs, because I’ve been obsessed with the... film vibes? Noir vibes? Something vibes.

After sharpening, I like adding just the slightest bit of noise, usually between 3% and 6%. (I normally do this on a duplicate layer set to around 50-60% opacity.)

Here’s my original gif after sharpening:

Filter > Noise > Add Noise

Then I go about coloring the way I normally would.

And to top it all off I add a black and white Gradient Map.

My Save for Web settings depends on whether or not I have colorful text on the gif (like in this set and this set) but here are the different settings I use:

IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO REALIZE WHAT IN THE HELL THIS WAS ABOUT LMAO.

It was the "Life ain't fair," line! Cause I, a Midwestern queer person with similar trauma to Eliot [which is another thing I could have asked about because, again, I could write an essay on Eliot in 1x09 alone]. Basically ⁠— I was asking him if it was his choice to do that based on Eliot's Indiana past or not.

Eliot’s hands were always touching Q, and Q never minded. Even when they hadn’t yet gotten the memories of 50 years together. Eliot was always so handsy, but it was never uncomfortable. It wasn’t unwanted. It wasn’t ever inappropriate.

Sometimes it was a pat on the head, sometimes a touch on the shoulder, or a fingers casually dragged across his back in passing. Sometimes they hugged, so tightly. Sometimes they leaned against each other on the couch. 

It was always so comfortable and comforting. Q appreciate all the touches, because sometimes he wanted to be touched but didn’t know how to ask someone for it. Eliot didn’t seem to have that problem, not when he asked for a hug before Q had to leave him in Fillory that first time, when he became High King.

That was something Q loved about Eliot, how easy he was with love and affection, whether for friends or lovers. Eliot was just so open. He couldn’t count the number of times he had seen Eliot and Margo kiss, even though there wasn’t really anything sexual between them. Eliot gave Q a lot of casual kisses, too... though Q didn’t mind there being something sexual between them. Not one bit.

Sitting on the couch beside Eliot now, he studied the other man. There was a casual grace about him, which struck Q as very princely. Eliot was lounging against the corner of the couch, one arm draped over the couch arm, one leg propped up on the coffee table in front of them. The hand closest to Q was resting on his thigh, and Q eyed that hand.

Long, thin fingers. Perfectly practiced at casting spells, forming poppets, and casting a spell of an entirely different sort on anyone they touched. Deft fingers that could elicit so many feelings by such simple touches. 

After pulling in a deep breath, Q made a decision. He reached out and slipped his hand over, atop Eliot’s hand. Palm flat against the back of El’s hand, fingers lacing between fingers. 

Eliot turned his head, looking at Q with a question and surprise. He said nothing, though, just watched and waited, curious to see where this would go.

Q couldn’t quite look at Eliot and felt his heart skip a beat briefly. He pulled Eliot’s hand closer, turned it over and brought his other hand over to trace finger tips over Eliot’s palm. Q had a feeling of satisfaction as he heard Eliot suck in a quiet breath.

Fingers traced up and back down Eliot’s palm, then down to the inside of his wrist. Eliot bit his lip. 

Q brought Eliot’s hand up to his lips, kissed his palm, kissed his wrist, turned the hand over and kissed his knuckles, then the back of his hand. He held that hand between both of his own, solid and sure, then curled Eliot’s fingers and pressed them to his cheek.

Eliot just let it all happen up until the moment when his hand was brought to Q’s cheek. Then he brushed that scruffy cheek, unfurled his fingers, and pressed a palm to Q’s cheek. His hand moved around to the back of Q’s neck, and he leaned in. There was a moment of pause, a silent request for permission. Q looked back with willing eyes.

Tagging: @herzdieb @ifishouldvanish @merlinss @coldwaughtered @alecharrdy @nannycrowley and anyone else who wants to!

wait, blowjob? i’m trying really hard to remember but all the negativity i’ve seen today is affecting my memory………???

niffin alice comments that their relationship ended with eliot’s dick in quentin’s mouth

haha yeah sometimes i forget that i’m not just yelling into the void with my tags