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taylorhawkins · 1 year ago

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Hammer Of The Nice, Ordinary Guys

originally for CMJ New Music Monthly, 1997

"Pat and I were into the same exact kind of music," Taylor says--Queen, Pink Floyd, the Police. "It was like having a big sister in the band." Mentioning the Police has triggered something in his head, and he starts playing the drum part to "Next To You" on his legs. "I took the beating for being the new kid for so long," Taylor continues. "'New guy!'"

A snapshot of the Foo Fighters' dressing room: 20 bottles of spring water, 8 bottles of Perrier, a cooler full of soda, Snapple and iced tea, a cooler full of beer (including microbrews), two bottles of merlot, two giant bottles of IBC root beer, three loaves of French bread, several other varieties of bread, pitas, crackers, chips and picante sauce, coffee with sugar, cream and lemons on the side, granola bars, bite-size candy bars, a big stack of towels (one of which Pete is ripping up), a bowl of fresh fruit, another bowl of fresh berries, a few varieties of gum, and a hanging basket in the shape of a bull's head. This last is not in the band's contract, and Taylor is trying to figure out how to wear it.

Note that all this is not dinner--just backstage snack material. (At the end of the night, Pete hijacks a lot of what's left for the tour bus.) For dinner, there's surprisingly good catering--teriyaki chicken, rice, various vegetable and tofu things. As people eat, Taylor is drumming on the table--he eats a bit, then heads up to the drum riser to play some more. There's a Nick Cave tape playing over the PA, which doesn't stop him from taking a crack at "When The Levee Breaks" before the audience starts arriving.

Back in the dressing room, guitar tech Earnie "Guitar" Bailey (everyone says that's legally his middle name) is holding court, telling Nirvana stories--he started touring with them in early '92. After Nirvana ended, he and his wife had a restaurant in Seattle for a year; he sold it, figuring he'd take it easy for a while. And promptly got a call from Dave: "'I'm going on the road next week, wanna come?'"

Dave bursts through the dressing room, wearing a skull mask for no apparent reason and grabbing everyone in his path. Franz, paging through the tour itinerary, looks up: "Dave, why are we going to Sweden in November?"

"Because we need to rock, man! We need to fuckin' rock!" And out he goes.

Earnie, unfazed by the interruption, continues. "It's been interesting watching Dave growing into being the ringleader. At first, he wasn't used to calling all the shots--being the charming frontman. Now he's hilarious when he starts rambling on stage... I wish he'd be the same guy on stage he is on the bus.

"I think the second record's a lot more personal--"

Dave suddenly walks back into the room. Earnie pretends he doesn't notice, and raises his voice a bit: "Of course, the main thing about Dave is to never turn your back on him--he'll fuck you over in a second."

Smirking, Dave attempts to change the subject. "I had these breakfast burritos--for breakfast--"

Taylor interrupts: "Seeing as how they're breakfast burritos--"

Dave whacks him, and the room abruptly degenerates into everyone trying to toss candy-bars and fruit into the bull's-head basket. Then Taylor starts drumming again, this time on the bottles on the food table.

An hour or so later, various Foos and friends are watching the opening band, Verbena, doing their very loud Stones-via-Royal Trux thing on stage. Dave is really getting into them. Franz, backstage, is quizzically examining a box of ginseng that a "runner" has retrieved for the band. Nate, who's been missing for the past few hours, comes back with two huge bags of clothes; he's got a bad toothache and isn't talking much, so he pretty much keeps to himself. Taylor is in the dressing-room bathroom, drumming on the fixtures. He's liking Verbena. "They sound kinda like Nirvana! Bleach!"

By 8:30, the band are finally all in the same room. Let's just say drumsticks are a dangerous thing to have in a dressing room. Dave eventually starts doing a little rhythmic exercise on the wastebasket; Taylor joins him, on the other side of the basket. This, it turns out, is a nightly ritual, a drill to focus their concentration. There are two drummers in this band.

Showtime. The hall, we later find out, is about 3/4 full, but it sure looks fully occupied. They start out the set with both Taylor and Dave playing drums; after a minute, Dave switches to guitar, they go into "This Is A Call," and we get to see the results of all that ginseng. Everybody's leaping around the stage like crazy for the hour-plus set. They do a new one, called "The Colour And The Shape," a fast, Pixies-ish thrasher; they do most of the hits (though not "Big Me"). But the big cheers are for "Everlong." "You get that just right," Nate said earlier, "it's kind of orgasmic, really. It's amazing when it really comes together." In fact, everything comes together--not bad for this lineup's third show.

Nate, on The Colour And The Shape: "It's almost like a concept record, some people say--the lyrics were all written at one period in Dave's life, and they really reflect well what was going on in Dave's life."

Dave's perspective: "Writing lyrics, you're taking something completely intimate and turning it into something completely not-intimate."

Taylor, on Dave: "Do not compliment him. He can't take a compliment."

As it turns out, Taylor isn't even as much of a party animal as all that. As everyone gets onto the tour bus the next morning, Gus asks him what happened with the two women he'd been flirting with at Emo's. "Left 'em there, went back to the hotel, went to sleep."

The inside of the tour bus basically looks like a nice hotel room itself: tasteful curtains, a little couch-and-table setup, a ceiling mirror, a kitchenette with a coffee machine, a set of bunks for people to sleep in (stacked three-high). There's a stereo/VCR in front, another in back. Texas passes by outside. Taylor is up front, chatting with congenial driver Larry Ellis and singing snatches of "Billie Jean." Dave is chatting with Gus: "Did I tell you I found out I ripped off a Def Leppard song? That song 'Hysteria' and 'Everlong.' It's got a line 'breathe out so I can breathe you in.'"

A dialogue:

Gus: Do you guys want to go to Pensacola on your day off and go to the beach?

Dave: Fuck off.

Taylor: Day off after what?

Gus: Read your itinerary!

Taylor: Dude, I wanna go jet-skiin'!

Franz: In the rain?

Taylor: Oh, dude!

Skeeter Thompson, the old bass player of Scream, is coming in from Little Rock tonight--"Scream reunion!" There's some concern over the number of tickets the Dallas show tonight has sold: 1400 for a 3200-capacity venue. The Stones, Gus is quick to remind the band, have only sold 12,000 tickets for a show with Smashing Pumpkins opening, though, so it's not that big a deal. Things are tough all over. The album's down a notch in the charts this week, but there are five big debuts that came in above it--it's actually sold more copies this week than last. Eventually, almost everyone heads back to catch some Z's; Pete stays up front to watch Short Cuts on the VCR.

When the bus pulls into the Bronco Bowl, the converted former bowling alley they'll be playing in Dallas, it's just about soundcheck time, which means, since they're still teaching Franz the songs, that it's time to learn "Big Me." That's basic enough, so they follow up with an Angry Samoans cover that Taylor's never heard either--it's a little weird watching him figure out how to play hardcore. Dave demonstrates the drum break by waving his arms in the air. Taylor has an idea for a slight change in the arrangement of "This Is A Call," so they try it a couple of different ways.

"I don't know if we should do that at the end of every verse," Dave says.

"I think it fucking sucks," Taylor declares, and that's the end of that.

#nobody ask me how I found this #lmao #it’s written like a fever dream #taylor hawkins #dave grohl #nate mendel #franz stahl #foo fighters #1997 #the colour and the shape era #interviews & articles

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gameofsevens · 2 years ago

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Dream Team and Dungeons & Dragons

As a dnd player and a fan of the dteam, I thought it would be fun to assign a class and subclass for Dream, George, and Sapnap. This was a lot of fun and gave me ideas for characters I could make for other campaigns, as well as other mcyts I could assign, too.

hyperlinks to the respective pages will be in "class" and "subclass"

Dream

Class: Paladin

Subclass: Oath of Glory

"Paladins who take the Oath of Glory believe they and their companions are destined to achieve glory through deeds of heroism. They train diligently and encourage their companions so they're all ready when destiny calls."

From the get-go, I knew Dream had to be a paladin. Paladins are a mix of a fighter, magic-user, and healer wrapped into a shiny, proud knight that's focused in helping their allies just as much as they are in being a powerful adversary. A paladin's proficient saving throws are charisma and wisdom, both very prominent in Dream's character; Dream has the uncanny ability to win over almost anyone, even antis once they meet him irl! And for wisdom, while he is business-smart, I feel like the rants and one-off things he say show more learned wisdom than baseline intelligence. Additionally, the two skills he would be proficient in plays off of that: persuasion and intimidation—he's a very large man, both physically and in terms of fame/success. Even though he's a sweetheart and a personified golden retriever, he isn't afraid to speak up. He's the one the reaches out to those at odds with him, not to mention that he spoke to the twitchcon staff after the horrid dsmp panel (and according to Philza, didn't hold back his true feelings).

The class has an ability to use their divinity through their oath to fuel and provide extra power to their hits and their spells. They also can choose a specific fighting style—Dream's would be "protection", because like the name implies, he can provide protection to an ally being attacked (and the paladin must be wielding a shield, and our little manhunt pro is an expert at using a shield). Time and time again, Dream has been a metaphorical shield for his friends under fire online, so it's quite fitting. Paladins also have many bonuses to help allies that aren't specific to their sacred oath: Lay on Hands, Aura of Protection, Aura of Courage, and Cleansing Touch. His sacred oath has one, too, called Aura of Alacrity. Mister "I'm gonna blow up, come with me" is definitely someone who would have a class so focused on aiding his allies.

For his subclass, Oath of Glory was obvious. There are four tenets:

Actions over Words: Strive to be known by glorious deeds, not words.

Challenges Are but Tests: Face hardships with courage, and encourage your allies to face them with you.

Hone the Body: Like raw stone, your body must be worked so its potential can be realized.

Discipline the Soul: You must marshal the discipline to overcome failings within yourself that threaten to dim the glory of you and your friends.

I mean, come on, isn't that perfect? I don't think I need to explain much there—Dream's past three years on the internet is enough of an explanation. Same with Glorious Defense, a feature that allows him to turn his defense into an opportunity to strike. While he hasn't struck back outright to those attacking him, he capitalizes on opportunities to make something out of it. The most important feature, though, is the one at level 20: Living Legend. This allows him to "empower [himself] with the legends—whether true or exaggerated—of [his] great deeds". Dream is YouTube's golden boy, a creator that exploded into popularity in the span of just three years. Be it positive or negative, the greater population of the internet has at the very least heard of him. A living legend indeed.

George

Class: Druid

Subclass: Circle of Dreams

"Druids who are members of the Circle of Dreams hail from regions that have strong ties to the Feywild and its dreamlike realms. The druids’ guardianship of the natural world makes for a natural alliance between them and good-aligned fey. These druids seek to fill the world with dreamy wonder. Their magic mends wounds and brings joy to downcast hearts, and the realms they protect are gleaming, fruitful places, where dream and reality blur together and where the weary can find rest."

George was a bit more difficult because I wanted a class that relied on intelligence or charisma and could also cast spells, but he didn’t seem like a bard or warlock to me. Ranger with a subclass of Fey Wanderer was a good contender since the subclass has the feature of Otherworldly Glamour and one of the “feywild gifts” gives the character horns or antlers (a personal favorite of mine for GeorgeeeHD fanart). Usually, rangers use a bow and arrow, which is the weapon that George is often drawn with. However, that’s where I found the similarities fell short—even with the similarities, they were mostly based on fanart and not who George is as a person, so I had to change course. My next option was a sorcerer with the subclass Lunar Sorcery. Dream has said George is “the light in the room”, so why not choose a subclass that gives the ability to literally shed light? (Lunar Empowerment). But once again, that’s the only thing I found similar or comparable. That led me to my third and final choice: a druid with a subclass of Circle of Dreams.

Druids have proficiency in intelligence and wisdom saving throws. George’s wisdom is debatable (this is a joke), but his intelligence is undeniable; he’s spoken several times before about the type of classwork he’s done, and how he graduated university with top marks and honors in computer science. For his two proficient skills, it would be arcana and insight. Arcana simply because I wanted his intelligence in math and coding to translate into something dnd related. As for insight, it could also be traded for perception. George is sassy when he wants to be, and thanks to multiple examples (and Punz saying “if Dream doesn’t like you, George definitely doesn’t), he harnesses the phrase “a bitch never forgets”. If he were petty enough and this was a spinoff of Mean Girls, he’d have a burn book.

Skipping over the other basic druid abilities (we all know he’d mostly wild shape into a cat, maybe that t-rex from his merch, too), and going onto druid circle (subclass). I’ll admit, Circle of Dreams jumped out at me because of the name, but when reading through their abilities, it was the clear choice. Remember how I wanted to include George being “the light in the room”? The description for this subclass says “Their magic…brings joy to downcast hearts, and the realms they protect are gleaming…”. Even the first ability, Balm of the Summer Court, gives the druid the ability to become “a font of energy that offers respite from injuries”. It’s perfect! The second ability, Hearth of Moonlight and Shadow, reminds me of something I’m not sure if George said outright or if he implied it: wherever Dream and Sapnap go, that will be where his home is—a house doesn’t make a home, people do. The ability I just mentioned has the description “home can be wherever you are”. Once again, perfect.

I will admit that the two other abilities Hidden Paths and Walker in Dreams are a bit more difficult to connect, but they still seem fitting to George. Overall, this was the best option just for how accurate some of the abilities are. George is sly and witty, but he’s also bubbly and sweet. A magic-user with a focus on intelligence and being a comforting presence to his allies is exactly who George would be.

Edit with the help of a friend: (copied and pasted)

Hidden Paths can be connected to his coding/tech abilities: he is good at finding solutions, connecting things, etc, and it procs off wisdom, so it makes sense

Walker in Dreams can be connected to the way he was confined to having Internet relationships and to having a lot of internet and/or overseas connections

Sapnap

Class: Fighter

Subclass: Banneret

"A banneret is a knight who inspires greatness in others by committing brave deeds in battle. The mere presence of one in a hamlet is enough to cause some orcs and bandits to seek easier prey. A lone banneret is a skilled warrior, but a banneret leading a band of allies can transform even the most poorly equipped militia into a ferocious war band. A banneret prefers to lead through deeds, not words. As a banneret spearheads an attack, their actions can awaken reserves of courage and conviction in allies that they never suspected they had."

Last but certainly not least, is Sapnap. His choice was obvious: if there’s one class that the biggest shooter for Dream and overly-passionate (competitive) Valorant player would be, it’s a fighter. A fighter’s proficient saving throws are strength and constitution. It’s without a doubt that Sapnap’s tough—his bark may be worse than his bite, but the few times that Dream-defender leash he’s kept on loosened, he bit back hard. That ties into one of his two proficient skills, intimidation. I have no doubt that in a battle or regular encounter in dnd, he’d use his intimidation to his advantage. For his other skill, I chose athletics. I think that fits the best for him out of the other options. Just like a paladin, fighters are able to choose a fighting style. Unarmed Fighting was the best option, because I feel that losing his weapon wouldn’t keep Sapnap from still fighting. Continuing off of that, I also feel that Sapnap would be the type of person that doesn’t back down until he literally can’t go anymore. The Action Surge, Extra Attack, and Indomitable feats are indicative of this. I remember in the final manhunt review, Dream said “…and they unleash Sapnap like a bull”. Sapnap is, in my opinion, evenly matched in pvp with Dream, and in manhunts when it didn’t necessarily matter if he lost, wouldn’t hesitate to throw himself into the fight completely. He wasn’t afraid of Dream’s skill.

For his subclass, I bounced between Champion and Banneret, but ultimately settled on the latter due to the subclass’s ally-friendly abilities. The description for this subclass includes phrases that speak of their talent for providing courage, conviction, and gumption to even the weakest of their allies. Both the abilities Rallying Cry and Inspiring Surge show those admirable traits. In MCC, Sapnap is a great leader. He’s upbeat and loud, and his competitive and ambitious spirit often gets his teammates excited as well. Alternatively, he knows when to back off, and his respectful teammates follow his orders, most prominently (in my opinion) shown in MCC 15: During survival games, Sapnap was (and still is) the only one Dream would listen to whenever he was told to back off and regroup. That’s not to say that Dream doesn’t listen to other teammates that tell him that, but when it was Sapnap, he either listened on the first call to retreat, or stopped after Sapnap (who didn’t cower from talking back) kept telling him. Once again, the sign of a great leader.

I’ll admit, I don’t think Royal Envoy fits Sapnap. Tina has called him “a polite cowboy”, but he’s self-admittedly shy. His hot-headed nature combined with his politeness is admirable, but I don’t think it would result in being skilled in persuasion. But, since I’m the one calling the shots here, I say that he has a different skill proficiency and instead is proficient in insight (due to the previously mentioned skills in leadership). Bulwark, however, definitely fits. To be able to share his implacable nature with an ally to continue the fight is very true to him. Sapnap has a chutzpah that’s often unmatched, and he’s incredibly loyal to his friends, so a banneret it is.

#dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #dream team #dungeons and dragons #dnd #9s.dream team #dnd paladin #dnd druid #dnd fighter #if anyone wants me to do more people go ahead and ask!#nines’ notebook

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ekleipsi · 1 year ago

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' - do i have to like, duke it out with your brother? ' vague hand gestures, as stallion currently finds himself positioned upon kurai's couch. upside down. eyepatch amiss. ' - does he look better than me? does his eyepatch look better than mine? ugh. no, wait. don't answer that actually. ' / ( ciphor&kurai ehehe )

--- She hums, a faint grinning pulling upon lips at the idle concerns that spill past partner's lips. Partner. Her boyfriend, really. She has a leg pulled up on the stool she's seated on, knee to her chest with chin resting atop it; the paint brush in her hand stills for a moment before bright blues are tilted past the canvas to his position on the couch. Grin stretches further at the image...and even more so, at his idle insecurities. They're cute, but entirely unwarranted, though she can't bring herself to say as much and instead offers a small laugh.

--- ' Duke it out with him? Probably not, Akira's more likely to cry if you tried to fight him. You'd win. ' she warns, not at all holding back with the admittance before another burst of laughter spills out and she instead slides from seated position, in little more than baggy grew sweats that hung from her hips and a plain black bra. Frame is positioned in front of his upside down position, before she squats down and pulls his eyepatch off entirely.

--- Lips are pressed to the tender underside of his jaw, along his throat as it is rather exposed in such a position, before she lifts a shoulder in idle shrug. ' I mean...we are twins, so clearly he's pretty handsome, you know. But you look very cool and swarthy with the eyepatch, babe... ' she purrs the words smoothly, rolling her eyes and grinning before sitting down and cradling his head in her lap, leaning down for a chaste kiss.

#you're the only one who; drags me kicking and screaming through fast dreams | kurai & ciphor | ;#equos #bro don't fight akira he's a lover not a fighter #mans rly asked if he looked better than him when they're twins tho #*she just is like idk i'm hot so my opinion is biased.*

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ask-october-fox · 1 year ago

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Helloooo spirits! Its so good to see once again! My its been a time hasnt it? Granted im sure it was much longer for you than it was for me, hah~ Still I am so happy to be back and even more so to see so many familiar faces- as well as some new ones! Well no reason to drag this out, lets see what this year has to offer, shall we? Welcome all once again, to another year of Ask-October-Fox!🦊🍂🕯️🎃

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misswynters · 4 months ago

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Father of the realm

Cregan Stark x Wife!reader

[synopsis: You are pregnant with a babygirl, or that’s what your husband keeps saying. He truly wishes it’s a girl.

[a/n: yet another cregan fic since i can’t get enough of him.

[note | pls don’t just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

Winterfell's ancient halls echoed with the sound of crackling fires and the gentle hum of activity. Outside, the snow fell softly, blanketing the courtyard in a serene layer of white. Inside, however, a different warmth filled the air. It was a warmth born of love, care, and anticipation.

You sat in your chambers, a soft, knitted blanket draped over your legs, the flickering fire casting a golden glow across the room. Your hands rested on your swollen belly, feeling the gentle movements of the life growing within you. Each flutter and kick was a reminder of the miracle you carried, and with each one, your heart swelled with love.

Cregan entered the room quietly, his footsteps almost silent on the stone floor. His eyes softened as he saw you, a tender smile playing on his lips. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice a soothing balm.

You smiled back at him, the sight of his concern warming your heart. "I'm well, Cregan. Just a bit tired."

He knelt beside you, his large hands gently cupping your belly. "Is she moving much today?" he asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

You laughed softly, placing your hand over his. "Yes, she's been quite active. She seems to love it when I'm near the fire."

Cregan's smile widened, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your belly. "She's already got a mind of her own," he said, his voice filled with affection. "Just like her mother."

You reached out, running your fingers through his dark hair. "You really think it's a girl, don't you?"

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with certainty. "I know it is. I can feel it in my bones. Our little girl."

The joy in his voice was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter with happiness. "I hope you're right," you said softly. "But boy or girl, as long as they're healthy, that's all that matters."

Cregan nodded, his expression growing serious for a moment. "You're right, of course. But I can't help but dream of holding our daughter, of teaching her about the North, of watching her grow into a strong, brave woman like her mother."

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, the depth of his love and dreams for your child touching you deeply. "She'll be so lucky to have you as her father," you whispered.

"And she'll be even luckier to have you as her mother," he replied, his voice filled with conviction. He stood up, gently helping you to your feet. "Come, let's sit by the fire. It's warmer there."

As you settled into the comfortable chair by the hearth, Cregan wrapped a thick, warm blanket around your shoulders. He sat beside you, his hand never leaving yours. "You must tell me if you're uncomfortable, or if you need anything," he said, his brow furrowed with concern.

You squeezed his hand, reassuring him. "I will, Cregan. You've been so wonderful, so attentive. I don't know what I would do without you."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You'll never have to find out. I'm here, always."

The weeks passed, each day bringing you closer to the moment you would meet your child. Cregan's excitement grew with each passing day, his dreams of a daughter filling your conversations. He was constantly by your side, ensuring your comfort, worrying over every little thing.

One evening, as you lay in bed, the baby kicked particularly hard, making you wince. Cregan was immediately at your side, his face filled with worry. "Are you alright? Is the baby okay?"

You smiled, placing his hand where you felt the movement. "She's just making her presence known," you said with a laugh. "She must take after her father."

Cregan's eyes softened as he felt the strong kick. "She's a fighter," he said proudly. He gently rubbed your belly, his touch soothing. "Rest, my love. I'll stay here with you."

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt the warmth of his hand on your belly, his protective presence a constant comfort.

The day finally came when the midwife announced that it was time. Cregan was a bundle of nerves, his concern and excitement palpable. He stayed by your side through every contraction, his hand holding yours, his words of encouragement soothing your fears.

When the cries of your newborn filled the room, Cregan's eyes filled with tears. The midwife placed the baby in his arms, and he looked down at the tiny face, his expression one of pure love and awe. "It's a girl," he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. "Our little girl."

You reached out, touching the soft cheek of your daughter, tears streaming down your face. "She's perfect," you said, your heart overflowing with love.

Cregan placed the baby in your arms, his eyes never leaving yours. "You did it," he said, his voice filled with pride. "You brought her into this world. Our beautiful daughter."

As you held your baby girl, feeling the warmth and weight of her in your arms, you knew that your life had changed forever. The love you and Cregan shared had brought her into the world, and together, you would give her all the love and care she deserved.

Cregan sat beside you, his arm around your shoulders, his eyes shining with tears of joy. "Welcome to the world, little one," he whispered. "We're going to take care of you, and love you, forever."

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the love of your husband, you felt a peace and happiness unlike any other. Your family was complete, and you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, united by the unbreakable bond of love.

As winter melted into spring, the walls of Winterfell became a lively home filled with the sounds of new life. Your daughter, Lyanna, now a few months old, had quickly become the heart of the castle. Her bright blue eyes and soft giggles enchanted everyone who met her, but no one was more captivated than her father.

Cregan, the once gruff and imposing Lord of Winterfell, had transformed into a doting and protective father. He took Lyanna with him everywhere, carrying her in a specially crafted sling so she could stay close to his heart. The sight of the formidable Stark lord cradling his tiny daughter became a common one, and the people of Winterfell couldn't help but smile at the tender displays of affection.

One morning, as the sun cast its first light over the ancient walls, Cregan gently lifted Lyanna from her crib. She yawned and stretched, her tiny fists rubbing her eyes. "Good morning, my little princess," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Ready to greet the day?"

Lyanna cooed in response, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. Cregan chuckled and secured her in the sling, making sure she was comfortable before heading out to start his day. You watched them from the bed, your heart swelling with love at the sight of your husband and daughter.

Cregan was true to his promise of taking her everywhere. Whether it was inspecting the walls, overseeing the training in the courtyard, or attending to matters in the great hall, Lyanna was always by his side. The castle's inhabitants quickly learned that the quickest way to their lord's favor was through a kind word or gentle gesture towards his beloved daughter.

The following day, as Cregan walked through the bustling courtyard with Lyanna nestled against his chest, he overheard a servant muttering something unkind about your family. His eyes darkened, and he turned to face the man, his voice a low growl. "If I hear another word of disrespect, I will see to it that you regret it. Do I make myself clear?"

The servant paled and stammered an apology, quickly scurrying away. Cregan's protective nature was legendary, and no one dared to cross him, especially where his wife and daughter were concerned.

As his beloved daughter grew, Cregan's bond with Lyanna followed suit. He spoiled her with gifts—beautifully crafted toys, soft blankets, and tiny dresses that made her look like a princess. But more than the material things, it was his unwavering presence and love that made Lyanna's world so full of joy.

The following afternoon, as you sat in the gardens with Lyanna on your lap, Cregan joined you, carrying a small, intricately carved wooden wolf. "Look what I have for you, little one," he said, his voice filled with excitement. He handed the toy to Lyanna, who grasped it with chubby fingers and examined it with wide-eyed wonder.

You smiled at the sight, your heart full. "You spoil her, Cregan. She'll grow up thinking the world revolves around her."

He knelt beside you, his eyes softening. "She deserves to know how much she is loved. Both of you do."

As the seasons changed, Cregan's protectiveness extended to ensuring your well-being as well. He insisted on walking with you whenever you went outside, his arm always ready to support you. He worried if you spent too much time on your feet and made sure you had everything you needed to stay comfortable and happy.

As you sat together in your chambers, Lyanna asleep in her crib, Cregan pulled you into his arms. "You and Lyanna are my everything," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I would do anything to keep you both safe and happy."

You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "We are so lucky to have you, Cregan. I couldn't imagine a better father and husband."

He pressed a kiss to your hair, holding you close. "And I couldn't imagine a life without you both. You are my heart, my reason for everything."

As the months turned into years, the bond between you, Cregan, and Lyanna only grew stronger. Winterfell thrived under Cregan's leadership, and the people respected and admired the love and dedication he showed to his family. Lyanna grew up surrounded by the warmth and strength of her parents' love, knowing she was cherished beyond measure.

On a hot summer day when the sun was blazing hot, all you saw was joy as you watched Cregan and your daughter playing in the courtyard, your heart swelling with happiness. The sight of your husband chasing your giggling daughter, his laughter echoing through the air, was a testament to the life you had built together.

The sight of your husband chasing your giggling daughter, his laughter echoing through the air, was a testament to the life you had built together.

Cregan caught Lyanna and lifted her into the air, her delighted squeals filling the courtyard. "Got you, my little wolf," he said, spinning her around. He brought her close, kissing her cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

You joined them, the three of you basking in the warmth of the summer sun and the love that bound you together. "Our family," you said softly, looking at Cregan and Lyanna with pride. "Our beautiful family."

Cregan smiled, his eyes filled with the same love and devotion that had carried you through the challenges and joys of life. In the heart of Winterfell, amidst the ancient walls and the timeless snow, your love story continued to unfold. It was a story of strength, honor, and unbreakable bonds—a story that would be told for generations to come.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @travelingmypassion @shoxji @thornsandtulips @spn-obession

#house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd season 2 #house targaryen #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd cregan #cregan x you #cregan fanfiction #cregan x y/n #cregan x reader #cregan stark #house stark

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asksavel · 2 years ago

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-rather angrily whispers- “NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR PUNS.”

( Guest art by @symphonies-of-silver ovo )

@inaris-pokemon-world , @askthehalfshiny , @phantomguild , @curce , @deviltrigger , @pmd-waveringfate , @docmenlonhead , @ask-a-learning-ai , @ask-dream-fighters , @thunderxtempest

#inaris pokemon world #askthehalfshiny #phantomguild #curce #deviltrigger #pmd waveringfate #docmenlonhead #ask a learning ai #ask dream fighters #thunderxtempest #groudon #kyogre #asksavel #ovo

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luin-no-koibito · 1 year ago

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Can you guess which tag corresponds to each selfship???

describe your self ship(s) as badly as possible in the tags !!

(Stole from a anti)

#two chaotic lesbo furries who are down atrocious for each other - so much so that their furry comrades question their sanity every day #four magical idiots in a cult and one of them is the baby that the other three absolutely adore #an innocent sunshine cinnamon roll who's literally dating the ULTIMATE LIFE-FORM #gay artist and his easily upset adopted daughter #funni alien who stopped all attempts at world domination just because a human idol asked him to be her friend #space pirate fucks up and finds himself in an awkward friendship with a teenager he accidentally rescued #theater adult tries his best to raise a biscoff-hungry gremlin kid #tiny baby makes evil gang member latch onto them... x2 #self-proclaimed king decides to be cinnamon roll idol's bestie just to spite his asshole father #adhd fucker with psychic powers meets mochi loving god of DEATH #two research assistants to the same guy but oops - they're down bad!#chill guy from the past gets stuck with the swan kinnie who just got isekai'd there #hard-boiled wrestler bitch runs into cutesy ditz and they immediately jump down the relationship rabbit hole #idol whose dreams were dashed finds a new life with some graffiti punk and his homies #psychic introvert ends up falling for the same mochi loving god of DEATH that the adhd fucker with psychic powers ended up befriending #sexy news chick gets with the new kid at the station (who also happens to be an idol - am I ever gonna run out of idol s/is?)#strongest fighter in town recruits a shy girl as her assistant but they also have a... less professional relationship

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thewatcher727 · 6 months ago

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Writing Description Notes: Mental Pain

Updated 3rd June 2024 More description notes

The hallucinations were the same as being tortured for real, all of the emotions, all of the trauma, and none of the empathy that would come with such a real life ordeal.

There was something in that shout, a pain behind it. John watched. He watched Jane’s eyes. Then he knew. The anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life, lonely, desperate. He breathed in real slowly. What if nothing blew up? What if there were no consequences? Wouldn't John have to calm down? Wouldn't the shield clatter to the ground and let the pain tumble out?

John sees Jane. He does. He sees pain in her eyes. It has sat there for her lifetime, trapped in the confusion we all carry. He sees love too, the love she would have given were it not for the scars. It's still there, and one day he will set her free. John is not perfect, yet he loves her, and he knows what love means. He asks for a chance to find his feet, to stop his own head from spinning, and he will prove it. There is so much of her life that is a hell for her soul, and she stays there from strength rather than weakness, he knows. So he wants to join her in that pain, walk with her, feel the same torture he knows she bears. And one day, he will find just the right way to bring her home, his love.

Jane's emotional pain seeps out in her words, and it hurts John to hear them, hurts to read them. He senses what is inside that troubles her, yet also there is so much goodness there too—bravery, tenacity. She holds on like a fighter, every morning rising at the ringing of "the bell." All he can offer her is a brighter horizon, a hope that one day she will be free of all this. One day there will be choice, freedom, and security of food, shelter on a healthy Earth.

Emotional pain leaves invisible scars, yet they can be traced by the most gentle of touch.

Nobody wants to hurt, yet if John's pains can be used to help others, he feels blessed. Anyhow, perhaps his scars are his road-map; maybe he would be lost without them.

He turned towards him, a pained expression plastered across his face, teeth clenched as he tried to steady his breathing.

Gripping the ground as hard as he could to take some of the pain away.

It was as if a thousand needles of doubt and self-loathing were piercing her heart with each passing moment, leaving behind a tapestry of scars that only she could see.

It was as though a veil of sadness had been draped over her eyes, distorting her perception of the world and casting everything in shades of gray.

The weight of sorrow was a constant companion, pressing down on his shoulders until he felt he might collapse under its burden.

Her mind was a battlefield, each thought a landmine ready to explode with memories she wished she could forget.

The storm inside his head raged on, a relentless barrage of thoughts and fears that left him feeling exhausted and defeated.

It was as if a dark cloud had settled over his soul.

Her chest felt hollow, a yawning emptiness where joy and peace once resided, now replaced by a gnawing ache.

His mind was a prison denying him the freedom to live fully.

She felt like she was drowning in an ocean of despair, every attempt to surface met with another wave of hopelessness.

Every laugh felt hollow, every smile forced, as if she were playing a role in a play she didn't want to be in.

She felt like a ghost, wandering through life unnoticed, her pain invisible to everyone but herself.

The nights were the worst, when the darkness outside matched the darkness within, and sleep was a distant dream.

It was like a fire burning within, consuming all that was good and leaving behind nothing but ashes of what used to be.

The pain was a silent scream, a cry for help that no one could hear.

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nervoushottee · 8 months ago

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With Want | Paul Atreides x Fem!Reader

Summary: Paul Atreides always had dreams. But from the very beginning, there was an invisible string pulling him to you.

Warnings: (MDNI 18+) Reader's secret name is Nuri, Set in Dune Part 2 , fingering, soulmate/destined pairing, shitty understanding of the Dune universe (only watched the first Dune move and only half of Dune part 2 whoopsie so I'm probably butchering some of the lore or whatever. Its fanfiction babes, I'm not writing this for accuracy),

Note: Hey hottees!! Y'all I'm not even finish watching Dune 2 and I started writing this. Timothee was doing something to me in this movieeee. Hope y'all enjoy!

*not edited at all babes*

---- ---- ----- ----

Paul Atreides had dreams. Both enchanting and horrifying dreams that would eat away at his mind and soul. And from the very beginning, he had always felt this small pull of a feeling.

It was weirder than his dreams because even when he woke, he still felt it. Like it was a small tether, a light string in his heart and soul that hummed so softly. A light that was so dim that you would have to squint to see.

After everything that happened with his father and being forced out of his home. The Fremen people found him and his mother. And that feeling grew stronger. He thought it was about the sayings of what his mother, the Bene Gesserit, would tell him but it felt more than that.

It was odd, he could never see what it was in his dreams, or hear whispers of it like a name. But it was always that same enchanting feeling. So when Paul followed the Fremens, it continued to grow. By the time they walked deeper into the caves, it went from a strong pull to an overwhelming presence.

And that’s when he saw you.

“Who is she?” Paul asks Chani. The young woman already knew who Paul was asking for before she turned her head. A small smile engulfs on her face. “Nuri.”

Nuri.

Paul repeats your name to understand the feeling on his tongue. He hadn’t seen you before. Or maybe he did, he wasn’t too sure. The Fremen people covered their faces from the desert and a lot from what he was learning.

‘She moves like the wind.’ Paul says to himself as he watches you glide through the crowded room. Paul’s eyes meet yours briefly. Yours blue from your sclera to your irises. You stop moving through the crowd to stare at him.

That feeling buzzed around him, stronger than ever within Paul as his eyes never leaving yours. Your lips slowly turn up into a smile. Your eyes move towards Chani who still stands next to him, nodding in acknowledgement. Chani repeats the same gesture with a smile on her face, your gaze lingers back on Paul before a group of people walk in front of Paul’s view of you. By the time the people separate. You were gone. And the feeling suddenly fades from a sharp intensity to a dull buzz.

“You should be careful around her Outworlder.” Chani says to him in a low tone as the common area starts to get a bit busy with people. The two of them sit down on a blanket as other where for food.

“Was she with the group when you found me and my mother?” Paul asks, dodging the statement his acquaintance gave him.

Chani shakes her head, chewing her food before speaking, “No. She doesn’t come with us all the time.”That intrigued Paul. He turns himself fully towards Chani, his bowl of food mixed with spice long forgotten . “So is she not a fighter?”

“She is.” Chani says between chews, ”But she also walks with the Sayyadina.”

The Sayyadina. The Fremen’s Reverend Mother.

“From what I’ve been told, her family was killed just after she was born. Stilgar took it upon himself to look after her. As she grew, the Sayyadina felt something within her. So Stilgar gave them the authority to let her walk with them. She is truly a great fighter, so when we need good fighters she will come with us when necessary. If not, she stays.” Chani continues.

“A fighter and one that walks with the Sayyadina? Is that possible?” Paul questions.

“To a nonbeliever? No. But to those who do? Yes. Stilgar believes in the old ways and in the faith. The Lisan al Gaib.” She says to him in a taunting tone which causes Paul to avert his eyes. The moment they came in, some shouted hatred towards him and his mother but others screamed in rejoice, calling him The Lisan al Gaib.

“Our people follow behind him, he is a good leader and his judgment is almost always right and trustworthy.” Chani finishes.

Paul sits with the information he tells her, his hands slowly dipping in his bowl to start eating the food that was cold to touch but warm against his tongue. The heat of the spice warms his insides as it goes down his throat. “And what about you? What do you believe?”

”I don’t believe that you’re the Lisan al Gaib, that's for sure.” She chuckles. Paul feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment but urges her to continue. “I believe in our people. And she is a part of our people. And if she plays some part in whatever faith stories then so be it. But she has never faltered in training. She has never failed in the dessert and she is a good friend. She believes in our people as much as I do.”

After the words Chani said, Paul felt that she was over talking about you, more hungry and interested in the spice beneath her fingers. So Paul didn’t ask anymore. He ate his food in silence but his mind was racing with the thoughts of you.

—— —— —— ——

The day had turned into night. Stilgar showed him and his mother the small room for them to sleep in for the time being until their fate was decided. A lot of them didn’t trust him and his mother, and for that Paul understood.

His dreams woke him in the late night. Lifting his head from the makeshift pillow, he looks over to his mother who is still sound asleep. Her hand was placed on her lower stomach.

‘Rest easy sister, I will be back.’ He says in his head before getting up and quietly leaving the room.

The caves are quiet at night. Besides from the guards that linger within the open spaces to protect those who rest. Paul doesn’t think it’s necessary but he avoids walking around where they are. Just in case to not stir any trouble. The people were calm at the moment since their fates were going to be decided soon enough.

He walks to the small body of water his mother had told him about. The scared waters of the Fremens. The waters they would never touch. He sat there for a while. Enjoying the stilllness in the air and the calm look of the water. It reminded him of home. “I miss you father. I will take care of mother and sister.” He says to himself quietly.

He wants to cry but reminds himself to save his water. “Don’t waste your tears on the dead” from what Stilgar told his mother.

Paul sat still for a moment longer before he felt that pull again. That invisible string strong and tight as it pulls him to his feet. He absentmindedly walks into a dimly let hallway, his pulse quickening against his neck. His heat beating erratically against his chest as he turns the corner to see you. “You’re Nuri.” Paul states.

“You shouldn’t be out at night Paul Atriedes.” You say to him, your back towards him but he can hear the teasing smile within your words.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Paul explains to you simply, “And I made sure to walk where the guards can not see me.” The feeling nearly suffocates him as he walks toward you.

“Ah.” You turn towards him, you’re dressed in almost the same comfortable linens as him. His a tan brown color and yours an off white. “You and your dreams.”

How did you know about that? He questions in his head, unconsciously taking another step towards you. You both now at arms length.

“I see you in my dreams.” Paul lies.

“Do you?” You ask back, your tone sounds as if you know he’s lying.

“No but I can feel you. In my dreams and out. And I don’t know what it is or what it means.” He explains.

You hum in satisfaction as you slowly walk around him. Like a beast or a predator trapping its prey. “And what do you feel now?”

He feels like his body is vibrating, His skin tingling and his veins jumping. His fingers buzzing as if he wants to reach out and touch you. He does what to touch you, he wants to feel your skin on his. “What do you feel?” Paul asks the question back to you.

You stop walking to stand behind him. The hairs on his neck stick out as he feels your body heat near him. Your lips slowly grazing his ear making his eyes flutter close.

What the hell is happening to him?

“I feel like the spice on my tongue. I feel like the sand beneath my feet. I feel like the beauty you see in your dreams. I can feel you.” You whisper against him.

Paul turns around to you, your bodies closer than ever. His lips inches towards yours as his flickers between your eyes and your lips.

“You speak in tongues.” Paul whispers to you desperately.

“Shall I tell you in a way you understand?” You whisper against his lips.

“Yes please.” he begs softly.

And you don’t hesitate to put your lips on his. Paul moving quickly as his hands clasp softly against your cheeks. Moaning in the delight as he feels your hands glide against his chest, gripping his shirt.

He feels you everywhere, but it isn’t overwhelming anymore. Now that he’s holding you and tasting you, your tongue glides against his. He feels a wave of warmth wash over him as his body and soul settle into the feeling of you.

So warm and inviting. So enticing and serene.

You push him towards a dark hidden spot in the hallway. Your bodies are engulfed in darkness but when you break apart for air, you can see him all the same. Paul moves you toward the wall, his body trapping you in as he kisses your neck.

“I’ve dreamt of you, Paul Atreides. I’ve seen you in my dreams, felt you lingering in my mind, heart and soul.” You say to him breathly. Moaning quietly as you feel his tongue glide against your neck. Your guide his hand to touch your breast, causing Paul to move away from your neck and look into your eyes.

‘So beautiful.’ Paul thought. He brings his other hand on your cheek and kisses you hungrily. Squeezing your breast, feeling the weight of it in the palm of his hand.His hand glides to let your nipple slip in between his fingers as he squeezes.“I want to dream of you. I want to see you in my dreams, want to hear your voice call my name.” he mutters to you in between kisses.

When you break away from his kiss, Paul starts to ask what’s wrong until he feels your hand on his and glides it up to your lips. You kiss his fingers individually as he stares at you in adoration and desire. You slowly slip his middle and ring finger into your mouth causing Paul to groan. His hips shifting upwards against you as he feels the wetness of your warm tongue glide against his fingers. He watches as you pull his fingers out of your mouth, his digits glistening wet. Your hands glide his now wet ones down and underneath your linen pants.

“Touch me and you will see me.”

He lets his hand glide against you as is greeted by your wetness, causing you both to moan out in pleasure. You are sinking deeper into the wall and Paul sinking deeper into you. His fingers continue to glide there experimentally as you pull him back for a kiss. “Help me see.” Paul mutters desperately against you

Your hands reach down in your lines to move his hand into the position you need for him to make you feel good. You mimic a small circular rotation with your fingers on the back of his hand that was still against you. Once Paul understands, he begins to move his fingers in the motion you instructed, making you moan against his lips.

He pulls away to watch you. You looked more ethereal than any other being or spirit that was believed in all of Arrakis. Your head back against the mountain wall, your lips slightly open as you moan. Your hips moving against his fingers as if you’re chasing for pressure. Paul dips his head in the corner of your neck and kisses it feverishly as he applies more pressure in his movements. Causing you to hold on to shoulder and call out his name. Oh how he wanted you to say his name again.

Feeling a little confident he glides his fingers down, but keeps his them pressed against your swollen bud. He pushes his middle finger inside of you causing you to gasp. You hold onto his shoulder gripping his shirt as you breathe heavily. You drag his head from your neck to kiss him. With his finger going in and out of you at an agonizing slow pace, you kiss him sloppily. But Paul doesn’t seem to mind, he enjoys it. Humming against you with a smile.

When you feel his ring finger follow in for a second is when you lose it. “Paul!” you say loudly.

His tongue mingles with yours as he silences your cries. With the slow circling of his thumb against your clit and the way he pushes his fingers into you makes you clench against him. “Fuck.” he moans.

You whine as you feel your orgasm growing inside of you. The feeling you both shared with one another makes you feel even more on edge as you grip Paul in anyway you can. You rapidly as you feel yourself getting close. “Pau-Paul -” you begin to tell him as such but the building pleasure doesn’t get you far. Paul places his other hand against your cheek, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes hooded and his cheeks flushed. You feel his thumb brush against your bottom lip.

“Let me see you.”

His words are the final push that sends you over the edge. Paul kissing you to silence your cries, you mewling against his lips as his fingers never stop their learned rhythm. You shiver against his fingers, your body tingly and warm. He kisses your face from your cheeks, to your eyelids and everywhere in between as he waits for you to come down from your high. He whispers your name, making you flutter your eyes open to see Paul stare at you with want.

“Show me again.”

#paul atredies x reader #paul atreides #paul atredies smut #paul atredies x you #dune part 2 #dune fanfiction #dune 2 #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides imagine #paul atreides smut #paul atreides x you

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