HELPPP I SAW AN EDIT WHERE ITS PAUL ATREIDES SAYING "SILENCE!" AND IT CUTS TO ANAKIN LAUGHING AND SAYING

HELPPP I SAW AN EDIT WHERE ITS PAUL ATREIDES SAYING "SILENCE!" AND IT CUTS TO ANAKIN LAUGHING AND SAYING "no" HELPPPP WHY IS THAT SO CANON LIKE I COULD SEE HIS SASSY ASS SAYING THAT LMFAOOOO

I FOUND IT - HERE 😭😭😭😭😭

hELPPPPPP his laugh HES SO UNSERIOUS

He's too precious for words

"Pastilles Poncelet" by Jules Chéret (1896) // Timothée Chalamet being French and cute (2024)

I can see it ...

Willy woke up with a start. His body aching something awful. He blinked trying to remember where he was.

Right he thought. I’m staying with Noodle and her mother again.

That brought a smile to his face. Unfortunately he didn’t feel so great. He thought about how he had spent the night tossing and turning in bed, had taken forever to fall asleep and had to use the bathroom a few times. He felt achy all over. His head throbbed and his throat felt scratchy. He laid back down staring at the ceiling.

Normally he was an early bird but clearly today his body had decided against that. He looked outside and noticed the sun was up.

He sighed remembering Noodle was at school for the day but at least her mother was in the library on the main floor. Just two floors below their living quarters.

Slowly he sat up in bed and tried to get up to get ready to head to the factory. His body had other plans. He felt terribly hot and cold at the same time. His stomach gurgling loudly.

He remembered how the night before he was so nauseated he could barely eat. Dorothy Noodles’s mother of course had noticed and asked if he was alright. He had shrugged it off and told her it had been a long day at the factory.

He slowly got dressed, used the bathroom, brushed his teeth and then took his cane and headed downstairs to greet Dorothy.

“Morning Dorothy.” He tipped his hat to her as he came down to the kitchen.

“Oh Morning Willy. You slept late today.” Dorothy said.

“Here’s some breakfast Noodle wanted me to make sure you still had something to eat whenever you got up.” She explained.

Willy nodded and sat at the table. His stomach rumbled ominously.

Dorothy served him breakfast and despite his stomach aching. He ate most of the food.

After he ate. He thanked Dorothy and slowly got up. Leaning on his cane he started to leave. When Dorothy stopped him.

“Now where do you think you’re going Willy?”

He turned to face her leaning heavily on his cane.

“I’m heading off to the factory Dorothy the shop can’t run itself.” He said as he coughed into his sleeve.

“Oh Noodle and I don’t think so honey. Noodle said she heard you were up late last night working on those chocolate recipes of yours. Now we love you dearly but we all know you put too much work on yourself.”

Willy nodded

Where was she going with this? He thought.

“Noodle and I were chatting before she went to school. She said you seemed unwell and I thought so too. So for today and tomorrow you are forbidden from leaving here. You are unwell and if you even think about leaving. Noodle will be very unhappy with you and she’s worse than me.” Dorothy said.

Willy nodded and coughed.

Dorothy approached him took off his hat and brushed her hand through his curls.

Willy sighed heavily her cool hand feeling good on his warm skin.

“You are terribly warm. Now you head upstairs and get into your pjs and back to bed.”

Willy looked at her with a small smile. He felt terribly achy and his injured leg was bothering him. A sign his body was truly telling him to rest.

He slowly headed upstairs and changed back into his pajamas. His body aching something truly awful. Once back in his pjs he sat down to catch his breath leaning on his cane.

Dorothy came up to check on him and found him sitting on the edge of his bed head on his cane leaning forward on it.

“Oh Willy darling. You really aren’t well.”

Dorothy walked over and rubbed his back.

Willy nodded

“I know I’m really sick when my leg acts up. If my whole body hurts my leg hurts too.” He looked up at her.

“I feel so bad Dorothy.” He said weakly.

Dorothy frowned and ruffled his curls.

“Does anything else hurt?” She asked

Willy nodded and grabbed at his stomach as it gurgled and bubbled.

Dorothy frowned.

“I’ll get the thermometer and check if we have any medicine I can give you. Get under the covers. You need rest.”

While Dorothy went to fetch the supplies she needed for him. Willy got under the warm blankets. He coughed and closed his eyes trying hard to keep himself from throwing up. The nausea was bad and made him feel so much worse. Dorothy soon returned and set up. A towel and bucket next to his bed.

“Willy dear can you sit up for a moment?”

Willy looked up at Dorothy he felt so sick and exhausted but he sat up to let Dorothy check his temperature.

“Hm no good Willy 102.4 no wonder you felt so tired last night.” Dorothy said “Noodle said you looked more tired then normal.”

“Yeah I was feeling pretty tired but I thought it was just from work.” Willy said.

“Clearly not. Do you think you can drink some water?” She asked

Willy nodded and slowly drank from the glass of water she offered him. The water felt good on his throat. He hoped he’d be able to keep it all down.

Dorothy helped Willy get all comfortable in his bed. Then left him to rest after telling him that Noodle would be home around two thirty.

Willy nods and slowly falls asleep. Dorothy left him in his room to sleep

Willy managed to sleep for about two hours. Before his stomach woke him up. The gurgling had intensified and the overall pain was worse than it had been when he had first woke up.

Willy sat up grabbing at his stomach as it flipped.

He took a deep breath trying to keep himself from throwing up.

Oh how he hated the feeling of being sick. His stomach was demanding a purge.

Willy burped and gagged harshly. He took a deep breath. Eventually his body forces him to throw up into the bucket.

The next thing he knows he’s sobbing and Dorothy is rubbing his back.

“Oh you poor dear.” Dorothy said sadly. Willy had been so good to her and Noodle and every time Willy was sick or hurt. It pained her so.

She carded a hand through his curls and used her other hand to rub his back as the chocolatier threw up.

Willy whimpered and coughed harshly.

Oh, how terrible he felt. His stomach felt worse. He thought throwing up would have helped but it didn’t. It almost made it worse.

"That's it Willy You're ok." Dorothy soothed. she grabbed a tissue and wiped his mouth.

"I don't feel ok." Willy said sadly.

"I know but you will be soon. Noodle should be home soon and she can read to you." Dorothy said as she brushed his sweaty curls out of his face.

Dorothy helped him take a few sips of water before she left him to rest. As soon as she was gone, however. Willy felt a gurgle in his lower belly and rushed to the bathroom.

He felt so disgusting and just wanted to feel better from whatever bug this was.

By the time Noodle came home from school. Willy was back in bed asleep shivering and sweaty.

"Hey mom is Willy doing any better?" She asked.

Dorothy shrugged

"Last i checked on him. He was sleeping fifullly. Poor thing needs as much sleep as he can get. You can check on him later. Do your homework and help me with dinner."

Noodle frowned and nodded.

"I know your worried sweetie I am too but what matters is we are helping him." Dorothy told her.

Noodle sighed and went to do her homework.

Finally after homework and dinner.

Noodle rushed upstairs to Willy’s room and finds him asleep and sweating profusely. His curls sticking to his face.

Noodle went over and kneeled in front of him. She knew she shouldn’t wake him. He needed to rest. She knew it and yet…

“Hey Willy how are you feeling?” She asked as she lightly shook him awake.

Willy slowly woke up and smiled at her.

Noodle smiled

“Hey you feeling any better?” She asked concerned

Willy shook his head.

“Strudel i still feel awful. Your mother is great and so are you but I’m so sick.” Willy said sadly.

“Hey hey it’s ok don’t worry. We’ll be here for you always. No need to get all upset.” Noodle said.

Noodle grabbed the book she had been reading to Willy.

“Now how about I read to you until you fall asleep?” She asked.

Willy smiled weakly

“Yes please Apple strudel.”

Noodle smiled and started to read to him. Once Willy falls asleep. Noodle cuddles him in bed and falls asleep too.

After a few long days of rest and TLC from Noodle and Dorothy.

Willy felt much better.

I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||

A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩

You can't escape fate.

It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.

At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.

"You aren't resting."

Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.

"What troubles you?"

You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.

"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.

But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.

"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"

"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."

"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"

You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.

You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.

"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."

Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.

"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."

"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"

"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."

The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.

"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."

And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."

Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.

"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."

You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.

"Won't you tell me?"

Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.

"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.

"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.

"Not like you do," you answer steadily.

"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."

Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.

"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."

"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."

"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"

Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.

You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.

"A queen?"

"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.

"To being desired?"

You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."

"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."

You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.

"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."

"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."

"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."

══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie

I cannot help but recreate @ilovecatsandbaking 's post about this! This has gotta be a deleted scene!

Hope y'alls ❤️ it!