#Dunkirk crack

[squadron-leader-farrier]

The gang as texts from my groupchat Part 6:

Part 5 Part 7

#I return! I bring you this! I disappear! #hope y’all are doing well heh #dunkirk (2017) #Dunkirk crack #George mills #thegangposting

[malum-af-cth]

favorites of all time!

way way way back when i set up a spam account so i could send myself things i wanted to read later. essentially turning that chat into my TBR. i have sorted through them & i think the first thing to do with this rebrand is to give you a list of my favorite fics of all time. below you will find a list of my favorite reads with their writers & a smol why for it making the list. these are in no particular order. please enjoy!

*this list is 18+. Minors do not interact!*

list below the cut.

*most of these fics either are smut or contain some through slow burn structure. Please read each author's warnings for them before you engage. *

from the last 7 years, i have chosen 20 fics that i LOVE. here we go.

from @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog we have a story i remember getting me excited about what kind of writing could be on tblr. "the arrangement" a lost love fic. 9 parts of love & angst.

2. @sis-tafics out here with a sweet sweet physical innocence trope with the hottie dean winchester. "our little secret"

3. @hrina wrote such a beautiful H. Styles fic about his character in dunkirk. "Il Ritorno" is the first part of 3 fics. i love the little coming home to a new place & new people plot.

4. @supernatural-jackles is the author of one of the only fics to make me cry. "hey handsome" i remember reading this sobbing because i felt the emotions written into this SO deeply. I reached out to them & let them know how much i loved it. & i still love it so to this day.

5. @winchest09 is adding our first dark fic to this list. the slow burn on this one is so so so so good. i found this one a long long time ago & i would say it is one of the first fics that got me to explore the mafia verse "life for rent"

6. @negans-lucille-tblr is giving us another spoicy series up in here & it even has a sequal!!!!! (look down one) the ultimate D/s winchester series. it's oh so good! "you've got me beggin"

7. & for the sequel "Mercy" this series is so good i have re-read both 2-3 times. it felt like crack the first read on both of these lol.

8. oh oh oh okay! this next. one from @pink1031 is probably one of my absolute favorite stucky series. "our best girl" was the fic that sent me down a rabbit hole of stucky fics. i was addicted after this one.

9. @pink1031 is back at it again with the ONE fic on this list i know i have read a minimum of 6 times. it is THAT good. "dirty little secret" was so scandalous and sexy. a J2 fic that had me coming back for more all the time. my escapism really shined with this one.

10. i remember finding "lemon drop" by @impala-dreamer i love the dynamic written here between Sam Winchester x the reader. the intimacy in this one-shot is beautiful. this is something i wish i could have at the end of my days or when i feel like the world is too heavy. i felt seen through this fic.

11. @tuiccim 's style of writing is something i adore & admire. I fell in love through "almost had me believing it" it is truly a work of art. I was immersed into this undercover mission with my man BUCKY BARNES.

12. oh & another from @tuiccim with "Terrigenisis" this is such a good poly-stucky fic. the way it was written felt like it could have been canon.

13. WOAH now! this next one written by @world-of-aus is ICONIC. the universe that is "starkhub" is just so delectable. i remember when it was being published in the beginning i was like a dog with a bone. i will never get enough. I can't wait to see where else it gets taken.

14. this next one is quite possibly one of my favorite mob fics. I have linked the first installment of these lovely smutty stucky fics. "tell me what you want" is the first step into such a delicious universe. thank you @angrythingstarlight for all you write.

15. an absolute banger from @sagechanoafterdark with "codename: Lazarus". i can't exclaim loud enough how good this one is. it had me on the edge of my seat. so dynamic. the order in which you read the parts for this one changes the perspective. don't worry they have put an excellent order at the bottom of the masterlist. :)

16. @avintagekiss24 i wanna start out by saying that I love the space you have created with your blog. when i found "lay me down in the tall-green grass" i thought i found fanfic heaven. i will cherish it always. i kept coming back to this one-shot to relive it as much as possible.

17. i've been thinking about "stained like georgia clay" by @georgiapeach30513 a lot lately. i remember binge-reading it & soaking up every droplet of goodness i could. ;) & that thunderstorm scene 🥵. i'll leave you with that...

18. here lies the "howling comandos tattoo au" that altered my brain chemistry just a little. @navybrat817 stole my heart long before this one dropped. however, this au had me sitting patiently waiting with my hands folded.... um no i was mentally ON MY KNEES.

19. i can confidently say that @georgiapeach30513 's "you were the one" is my favorite Lloyd hansen series ever. i crave a fics that are this good. it all started from a one-shot & then i found out a prequel was being written to it & i screamed in excitement.

20. A quality fic that i have had actual dreams about in the past. comes from @themhoodgirlz . for my 5sos girlies out there "close" tingles my brain in the right ways. i reminisce about the dynamic these two have. years ago when i was a BIG 5sos stan i lowkey hoped & dreamed for that to be me lol.

alright, alright, alright. that concludes my first rec list. I want to thank all of these amazing, amazing authors who have shared their skills & talents with the world. your works have given me sweet escapes, brightened my days, & expanded my love for all of the characters & ppl you write for. <3 all my love,

prynne

#fic rec #marvel #supernatural #5 seconds of summer #stucky #the grey man #llyod hansen #jensen ackles #dean winchester #sam winchester #captian america #the winter soldier #i wish queue well #calumhood

[hlficlibrary]

Any new canon or semi-canon fic? When they were in the band and follows loosely canon events (LOT, FITF world tour, etc…)? Thank you :)))

Hi, anon! You're very welcome! So there are a lot of canon ones that are fluffy little domestic fics, but I got the feeling that's not really what you were looking for. So I went with ones that had more canon type events in the fics...

Looking At The Stars (Wishing You Were Them) by therogueskimo

2016 - Harry gets a very important phone call

Harry hears back from his Dunkirk audition.

(This one is part of a series of canon events)

Words Weren't Enough by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa

Louis wandered into the living room, just watching Harry play for a bit.

It made Louis’ heart crack a little, seeing him like that; hunched over the keys, the muscles on his back tense. But it was a quiet sniffle that Louis finally jerked into action, carefully approaching the slumped figure on the piano bench.

“Hey, darling.”

OR Louis finds Harry practicing the piano piece for his last show late at night, and there are some tears, memories and playing the piano together involved

let the feeling last by shiptattou / @wecantalktomorrow

Louis had been waiting a long time for the euphoria of moments like these. To feel such pride radiating through the room for him. He spent far too long in the spotlight for an image that had been forced upon him, built to show him in a particular way. A way that was nowhere near an actual representation of himself. He worked as hard as possible to create a safe space for himself and his fans at his shows, one that represented his authentic self.

He knew that his fans heard him. They could hear him screaming at the top of his lungs in the only way he knew how while still tangled in the false sense of leniency that came with his current contracts. It still did not match the feelings that came with moments like tonight, the overwhelming sense of love and belonging.

Let Me Taste Your Silhouette by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

Harry’s pulled out of his swirling thoughts then by the insistent buzzing of his phone again. He groans and reaches over to decline the call, except that it’s not Jeff calling this time.

It’s Louis.

Despite it being a rather warm day in London, Harry can feel the goosebumps raise on the skin of his arms. And for once he doesn’t really know what to do. For some reason, it hadn’t actually occurred to him that Louis might try to reach out.

Except that Louis is reaching out, which must mean he’s seen the picture.

(Or the one where Harry accidentally posts a picture to his main Instagram story instead of only to his close friends, and he just happens to be wearing a 28 Official Programme shirt. Louis happens to notice).

#ask #anon #ficrec #minificrec #canon #letthemusicmoveyou #therogueskimo #shiptattou #redpanda28

[training4theapocalypse]

Finders Keepers Ch 13. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: A little bit of dry humping hehe

Summary: McLaggen takes you to the D.A. Headquarters

A/N: I won't admit how much time I spent on AirBNB looking up lighthouses. This chapter is lots of build-up but I promise the payoff will be worth it.

Masterlist

Tag list: @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer, @daisydark, @intense-sneezing, @lipstickandloveletters, @ichorai (let me know if you want removed at any point btw!)

Chapter 13: Dunkirk

Salty sea air breaches your lungs once more and with a sickening stab, you’re reminded of Azkaban. 

But the air here is warmer. You feel sun on your skin. 

There’s no sun in Azkaban.

You blink, trying to get your bearings.

“Just a little further,” says McLaggen gently, squeezing your hand. It’s always felt small in his. Now it feels almost frail.

You’re atop a barren cliff. The sea glitters calmly on the horizon as the bright sun threatens to lower itself into the waves. Seagulls call to each other as the wind whips your face - their yewling sounds like laughing. You almost want to laugh too. But you’re not sure if they’re laughing with you or at you. You feel filthy compared to your fresh, open surroundings.

You feel the patchy grass under your bare feet as you walk towards the cliff’s edge.

“Cormac, where…?”

“Nearly there.” He stops. “I’m Secret Keeper for our headquarters. The Seafarer’s Beacon.”

As soon as he says the name of the place, the ground vibrates. A large, white object cracks the surface of the ground a few hundred feet away and keeps growing and growing upwards. Debris tumbles as an old lighthouse emerges, sprouting from the cliff like a giant beanstalk. With a shuddering halt, it stops and you gaze up at it, the towering building gleaming in the sunlight.

You gape, open-mouthed. “How did you find this place?”

“It’s my Uncle Tiberius’s. He gave it to us to use while he’s off in Brunei hunting Re’em. But with everything going on, he’s decided to make himself scarce and stay there.”

“And it’s safe? I mean, the Ministry isn’t going to come looking for us here?”

“Oh, they’ll be looking alright. But it’s protected by the Fidelius Charm. Unless the Secret Keeper - me - tells you about it, it’s invisible, unplottable. Impenetrable.”

“Yeah, I remember from the…“ Your N.E.W.T.s seem like they were a decade ago. “The Charms exam…” You trail off. 

“They’re expecting us. They’ll be… God, they’ll be so happy to see you. So happy it worked,” says McLaggen as you approach the arched driftwood door of the lighthouse. He pushes down on the iron handle and the door opens into a vast, circular kitchen.

There’s shrieking and screeches of wood on tile that makes you jump out of your skin. Instinctively you shrink behind McLaggen, hiding away from the noise, gripping onto the soft fabric of his knitted jumper until your knuckles turn white.

“Be cool, yeah?” scolds McLaggen softly and silence falls.

You peer tentatively around his large frame to see Cho Chang, Katie Bell and Leanne Coombes all on their feet around a large wooden table - staring at you, chairs discarded behind them.

“Hi,” says Cho quietly, smiling warmly.

Cho.

You feel your throat constrict when you meet her eyes. Don’t be stupid. You know you should be thrilled to see them. To see them alive. And to see Cho here especially. But all you feel is frightened - your body’s flight or fight response is making every muscle in your body seize up. 

You look down at your fists full of McLaggen’s jumper. They’re covered in dirt and grime. You quickly let go, feeling embarrassed to even be clutching on his clean clothes. 

“I’ll show you where our room is,” says McLaggen, taking your hand again and making a stern ‘quieten down’ gesture with his other to the group that reminds you viscerally of his dad.

A circular staircase spirals around the wall of the lighthouse, leading upward. As you ascend the stairs, you see rooms leading off to the sides - something that would look impossible from the outside. But you’ve been in the magical world long enough not to dwell too long on the weird quirks of wizarding architecture.

McLaggen leads you to the master bedroom near the top of the tower. It’s beautiful. Coral pink with little circular windows like on a ship. There’s another open door off to the side of the room and you can see the gleaming white tile of a bathroom.

“Your things are here,” McLaggen tells you. Your backpack is on the bed next to a folded white towel.

“The Ministry didn’t take them?”

He shakes his head. You feel the fluffy texture of the towel under your dirty fingernails. McLaggen picks up your bag and unnecessarily opens the bathroom door wider for you. He touches your shoulder as you pass. But before you can stop yourself, you cringe away without really meaning to.

He pulls back apologetically.

“Sorry. I’m… I just feel disgusting.”

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You bring yourself to gaze up at him standing in the doorframe with his tousled hair and broad shoulders. Handsome as ever in the pink ambient light. Even if he looks more tired than you’ve ever seen him before, it’s ridiculous for him to call anyone else beautiful - not least you in your current state.

“Shut up, McLaggen.”

Unexpectedly, his face breaks into a wide, contagious smile that makes those gorgeous dimples appear - you can’t resist your mouth twisting into one too. You’re you. You’re still you. And he’s still him.

He gives you your backpack and you go to shut the door but pause, meeting his eyes again.

“Can you stay here?”

“Of course. Anything.”

Your throat tightens again so you just press the bathroom door shut. With a deep breath, you bring yourself to look in the mirror.

It’s worse than you’d pictured. Your eyes are deep hollows with dark circles underneath them. If McLaggen looked tired, you look positively haggard. Your hair is filthy, and unkempt. You try to run your hand through it to find your fingers halted by the tangles.

Unable to bear to look anymore, you turn on the shower, throw off your wretched Azkaban robes bitterly into the wastebin and step in. The water is warm. It might be the best sensation you’ve ever felt. You look down at your feet and with grim satisfaction, see the water turn murky. You turn up the heat until your skin feels raw. It’s like it’s heating you to your very bones. You’re not sure how long you stay there. Soapy suds of every colour make their way down the drain as one by one, you use every one of McLaggen’s Uncle’s fancy soaps and shampoos. Using a small nail brush, you scrub your fingernails, your toenails and, still feeling unsatisfied with how the memories of Azkaban linger on your skin, you scrub the rest of your skin inch by inch. 

When you’re finally satisfied with your cleanliness, you find your clothes and toothbrush in your backpack and finish getting ready. Seeing yourself looking so tired and worn as you brush your teeth makes you want to cry. And when you think about crying you can’t stop the tears coming. You cry thinking about your parents. About the Holyhead Harpies. About Cho, Katie, Leanne and McLaggen hiding here. But most of all, you cry thinking about Eddie Carmichael. 

You wonder if he’s still waiting for you to return, guessing what’s happened to you or if he’ll get news of your escape and wonder why nobody came for him too. You think about him looking out his cell window at the cold North Sea. You hope the German Shepherd visits him.

The German Shepherd.

You clutch the sides of the sink feeling dizzy. How could you have forgotten?

“McLaggen!” You shout urgently and he bursts through the bathroom door in a panic. You grab the front of his jumper, pleading. “McLaggen, the Patronus!”

“Yeah? What?”

“You need to send it!” You say frantically. “You need to send it right now to Eddie, please. Please, he’s alone. He needs it.”

His eyes widen in shock at your hysteria.

“Cormac - now. Please.”

“Yeah, I will. I’ll do it right now.”

He returns to the bedroom and waves his wand. The German Shepherd Patronus bursts from the tip and sits obediently.

“Go to Carmichael,” he tells it and waves his wand again. The Pantronus turns and with a leap disappears through the wall.

You breathe a sigh of relief and sit down on the bed, arms trembling as the sudden surge of panicked adrenaline leaves your body. “That’s… it?” you ask, feeling your heart rate coming back down to normal.

“I mean, it’s harder than it looks. But yeah... that’s it.”

With no idea where to begin, you lie back and stare at the round ceiling. The mattress feels soft under your aching back.

“Did you say this was ‘our’ room?” you ask.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he says quickly. “There’s lots of space. I can sleep somewhere else.”

“I don’t want to sleep alone ever again.” 

McLaggen takes this as an invitation to join you on the bed. He finds your fingers resting on your stomach and laces his through them.

“Do you want to talk?”

“Not about Azkaban.” You turn your head to look at him. “Can you talk instead? Just… tell me what happened. From the start.”

“Well, I woke up and you were gone, obviously. I thought maybe you’d gone down for breakfast.”

You can picture it, McLaggen waking up and checking the guest room to find it hadn’t been slept in. 

“My dad - “

“Was it planned?” The question on your lips that you’ve been holding right to your chest.

“No. I promise. We left the gate open so he never had time to get you out of there. He guessed that it was Thicknesse. So he just went along with it. To protect us.”

“To protect you,” you correct. “So he sacrificed me.”

“Yes.” He doesn’t deny it. “And whatever you want to say about him, say it. I’ve said it to him all already. You have no idea - no idea - how furious I was.”

Several rude names dance on the tip of your tongue but don’t say anything, you just look up at the ceiling.

“He never imagined you’d be sent to Azkaban. The legislation said they were supposed to just confiscate your wand. But with everything that happened with Cerys, she convinced her dad to push for the maximum sentence. So really, it’s my fault.”

“Cormac - “

“No, listen. It is. If I’d just kept my ego in check, left the pub and took you home we would never have been in this mess.”

“Cerys knew I was Muggleborn by that point,”

“But she had no reason to do anything about it until I attacked Flint.”

Cerys and Flint. You wonder if they had a good laugh when they saw your face all over the Daily Prophet.

“Anyway, after you were arrested, I had a big bust-up with my Dad and came here to cool off. Stay with my Uncle. It was pretty bad. We’re still not speaking.”

“But we just saw him?”

“Only because the plan made it necessary.” He continues, “So when I arrived my Uncle was packing up for Brunei. Tried to get me to come with. But I knew I had to stay - think of a way to get you out.”

You feel your chest swell a little. Deep down you always knew he was thinking about you. Even in your worst moments - a tiny part of you always knew.

“Uncle Tiberius gave me the keys and left, leaving me to do a lot of thinking. Until one day I was lying right here.” He lies back and stares at the ceiling with you, absently tracing circles with his fingers over the back of your hand. “And a Patronus came. A big white swan.”

“Whose?”

“It was Cho. I recognised it from the D.A. but I didn’t realise Patronuses could travel like that. I checked the window because I thought she must be outside. But then it spoke.” 

“The Patronus spoke to you?”

“Yeah. And I recognised Cho’s voice. Said she, Katie and Leanne were safe and together and she asked if I knew about what happened to you. The problem was I had no idea how to reply. So I spent the next two weeks trying to figure out how the spell worked. But I was in pretty bad shape - not compared to your conditions, obviously!” He adds hastily, as if worried he’ll offend you.

“It’s okay. It’s not a competition. Though if it was I’d win,” you smile weakly.

“You would.” He squeezes your hand. “I was so sick with worry that I wasn’t able to cast a Patronus anymore. That is until one morning when I read in the Daily Prophet that three people had broken into the Ministry disguised as Ministry employees. And it got me thinking - what if I could use a Ministry employee to get into Azkaban? 

“So finally, after so long, I had a happy thought. Happy enough to let me spend the rest of the day trying to send a Patronus long-distance with a message.”

“You never sent me a message,” you say, trying unsuccessfully to keep a note of accusation out of your voice.

“I had no idea what it was like in Azkaban. I didn’t know if you were being watched. Or who would hear it if I gave you information. I sent the first Patronus and then I checked the paper the next day. I thought if they suspected you of communicating with anyone outside they’d punish you. It was risky but…”

“It was worth it,” you reassure him, squeezing his hand. “Cormac, it saved my sanity, I’m sure of it. And Carmichael’s too.”

He nods. “So the same night I sent my Patronus to you, I sent one to Cho too. And we arranged for them to come here. We came up with a plan to get you out. A reason to get you back into the courtroom. And it had to be big enough for my dad himself to be involved.”

“You being held hostage by Dumbledore’s Army?”

“Yeah. I went back to mine and told my dad the plan. Nobody knew at the Ministry that my dad and I had fallen out. So the day I was meant to start work I just never turned up. And my dad played the distraught father extremely well. First, his son almost had his magic stolen, now he’d been kidnapped by Dumbledore's Army.”

“Why Dumbledore’s Army?”

“We knew Umbridge would be so incensed that we were back that she’d understand my dad wanting to drag you from Azkaban himself.”

What an awful, awful woman. Desperate to believe someone would take pleasure in another's misery as much as she would.

“Marietta told us about the D.A. sign-up sheet.” 

“You’re in touch with Marietta?” Your heart leaps.

“Oh yeah. We’re desperate for her to come here but she knows she’s more useful on the inside.” 

The inside. Marietta was playing her part so well that she had to watch her boyfriend being thrown into Azkaban with a straight face.

“Umbridge kept the D.A. sign-up sheet after all that time. You can imagine it was a bit of a shock for Marietta when she saw it.”

You imagine Marietta clearly in a lurid, pink office. In your head it’s identical to Umbridge’s office at Hogwarts, with fluffy kittens on decorative plates, their big, blue eyes watching as she rifled through drawers and found the cursed piece of parchment that scarred her for life.

“So we framed you… again. Marietta wrote your name on the paper.”

You nod. You had guessed that already.

“And then, well, I think you know the rest. My dad agreed to the plan - it was his idea to have me wipe his memory so that when they interrogate him he won’t know anything. And since your wand is gone, he said you could have his.”

“He did?” Your opinion of his dad softens slightly. It was extremely risky to have your memory modified. And his wand…

McLaggen nods. “Well, he can order a new one from overseas - Ollivander went missing too over the summer. Did you see him in Azkaban?”

You shake your head.

“Well, in that case, nobody knows where he is. And that brings us to here.”

You both lie quietly for a while staring at the ceiling as the sea laps gently against the cliffside - it’s peaceful, nothing like the waves crashing mercilessly against the rocks of Azkaban. 

“What coast is that? Where even is ‘here’?”

“Do you want to see? There’s a good view from the top.”

The two of you get up and you follow McLaggen back out to the hallway. He points his wand and a step ladder drops down, leading to the top of the lighthouse.

“You first,” he says.

You raise your eyebrow.

“Not like that - it’s just steep.”

“Yeah, yeah…” You say and you take hold of the rungs.

“Well, I’m not complaining,” he says, watching your skirt disappear up and over onto the top floor.

When you get to your feet and see the view your breath hitches in your throat. You can’t remember the last time you saw this many colours. The sun has almost set completely by now. It gleams on the deep blue water, crimson light bouncing off the white cliffs. 

“Is this… are we in Dover?”

McLaggen nods. “Yep, and that’s the English Channel.”

You look to the west and wonder if Carmichael is watching the sunset too.

“Why didn’t you pull Eddie out? I mean, I’m grateful you helped me. And I’m not blaming you. But his name was on the D.A. sheet too.”

“I know,” sighs McLaggen. “But I’ll say the same thing to you that I said to Marietta - if my dad had requested Umbridge to call both of you out for questioning, she would have sent more Ministry people to escort him. It would’ve been too difficult to pull off with both of you wandless.”

“Well, at least we’ve got a nice place to hide out while we think of a plan.”

McLaggen stays quiet.

“I mean, we’re getting Carmichael out too, right?”

He sighs heavily. “It was really the kind of plan that only works once.”

“Cormac, we need to do something.”

“I want to. But I’m all out of ideas. One breakout was nearly impossible but two? I don’t think it can be done.”

You chew your lip. If there was an obvious way to break someone out of Azkaban, you probably would have thought of it already.

McLaggen stands behind you as you look out to the horizon and slips his arms around your waist from behind. The way his warm body feels enveloped around you soothes you, making you feel safer than any protective enchantment.

He rests his chin on top of your head. “If you look over there -“ he points “- you can sometimes see France when it’s bright and clear.”

“It makes you forget how close it is, really. I’ve only ever seen it in old World War Two photos, y’know? All the little ships of Dunkirk going over.”

“The what?”

“You’ve never heard of Dunkirk?” You tilt your head up to look at him. “Oh, I’m not doing the story justice but basically, during the war, there were hundreds of thousands of British soldiers trapped on the beach at Dunkirk just… there.”

You point out to the East.

“The German Army was approaching from land, keeping them on the beach. And the water was too shallow for British destroyers to get near enough to rescue them. Big warships - do you know what they are?”

“A warship? Yeah, it’s pretty self-explanatory,” he grins.

“Right, sorry, anyway, all those soldiers were just stuck. So the Muggle Ministry put out a call for help to anyone who had a boat that could be used in shallow water. Loads of civilians turned up in canal boats, fishing boats, sailing boats - anyone and everyone who had a boat. Hundreds and hundreds of them went from England to France to start ferrying the soldiers back. Getting them all to safety.”

As you stand looking across the channel, you can picture all the little boats going out. The relief the soldiers must have felt when they saw help at last. The same overwhelming relief you felt when you saw you were standing in McLaggen’s parent’s house.

“That was brave of them.”

“Yeah.” You wipe your eye with the sleeve of your jumper. “Sorry, I keep welling up. I think I’m tired.”

“It’s a nice story. And you don’t need to keep apologising.”

McLaggen holds you tight against him while you watch the sun finally disappear into the sea. He kisses the top of your head. Your stomach grumbles.

“I’ve just realised I’m starving.”

“Do you want me to bring you some toast?”

Toast. It’s been so long since you thought about real food that you almost forgot about your favourite thing to eat. But he didn’t.

“I made sure we had plenty of bread for you coming back-”

The tiny gesture is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.

You turn and stop his train of thought with a kiss. You can’t help yourself. You link your arms around his neck and stand on your tiptoes to suck his bottom lip. He pulls you close by your hips, pressing his warm body into yours like a giant comfort blanket. When Cormac’s tongue enters your mouth, he does so tentatively, gently, as if worried he might be overstepping.

He isn’t.

His hands wander down the curve of your back and with more urgency than either of you had expected, you push him backwards to the cushioned window seat so you can straddle him.

Everything below your waist throbs. Burning, searing friction lights up your nerve endings as you sit on his lap. It’s the best feeling you’ve felt on your skin in two months. 

You pause, pressing your forehead against his, lips barely touching and just breathing each others’ air. A sigh escapes your lips when feel his cock twitch under his jeans, pressing against your soaking-wet underwear.

He breathes deeply. “I’m really happy you’re here.”

“I thought that was just your wand in your pocket.”

He lets out an amused exhale and looks down between your bodies. “Sorry. You’ve barely been here two minutes. I shouldn’t -”

“You should.”

“Do you feel okay?” His eyes find yours again, full of concern.

“No,” you say truthfully. “But it doesn’t mean that I don’t want you to fuck me.” Your hands find his belt buckle and he takes a deep, steadying breath. “Didn’t you miss me?” You tease softly.

He cups your face and your working hands pause when you look at him. “I missed you, alright. But you were just crying thinking about boats.”

“I’m just - I’m scared something will happen and we won’t get to do this again.”

“We will. You’re safe here.” He brushes a strand of wet hair from your face. “We’re safe here.”

And you do feel safe here. With him. You kiss his neck, inhaling his heady scent that reminds you so vividly of that first Potions lesson with him. When you realised that you didn’t hate Cormac McLaggen. Not even a little bit.

Your hips push against his, chasing the friction of his cock against your clit. His hands grip the sides of your thighs, digging into your flesh and pulling you tight against him.

It feels like half of you has been missing. You never thought you’d feel his touch like this again. 

There wasn’t a moment in Azkaban where you ever thought about sex. It was like the whole concept of sexuality disappeared into the void. In the dark, damp cell there were no sneaky thoughts of touching yourself or pleasant dreams of a romantic reunion with Cormac. Just emptiness. All-consuming, never-ending emptiness. At your lowest moments part of you thought you’d never deserve to feel like this again.

His grip loosens on you and you realise you’ve stopped moving your hips. It’s only when his lips meet the wet corner of your eye that you even register you’re crying.

“Hey… I think you need sleep. And food,” he murmurs in your ear.

You nod, pulling back to wipe your eyes again. His eyebrows raise a bit as he studies your tired face. 

“Why don’t you go to bed and I’ll bring you something?”

It’s tempting. You’re, frankly, exhausted. But by McLaggen’s account, they’ve all spent the past few weeks holed up here cooking up a plan to get you out of Azkaban. The least you can do is show your face.

“It’s okay. I’ll come down with you. See the rest of them.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katie, Leanne and Cho lift their heads up when they hear two sets of footsteps coming downstairs.

“Hi,” you say, slightly awkwardly after your last entrance but the way Cho looks at you makes you feel less nervous. She pats the chair beside her. Your best friend doesn’t need to ask how you’re doing. She just knows.

“Feeling better?” asks Katie with a sympathetic smile and you nod, not sure how to verbalise the mix up of emotions inside your head.

You sit beside Cho at the kitchen table and lean your head on her shoulder while McLaggen busies himself, making you toast. 

“Is it just the four of you? Have you heard news from anywhere else?”

“Just us. We’ve had bits of news here and there. Oliver Wood and a couple of others are hiding out in Puddlemere,” says Katie. “The whole league’s been called off.”

“It has?” You brighten up a bit at this. For weeks you had been imagining Cerys leading the Holyhead Harpies to a gloating victory.

“Yeah - there were riots in the crowds when players started disappearing. Gone into hiding or worse.”

“What about any Ravenclaws?” You lift your head and ask Cho. “Any sign of them?”

“Last I heard Rodger Davies was still living in France, playing Quidditch for Lyon. Probably best he keeps it that way.”

“And Hufflepuff? What about Smith?” you ask Leanne.

You don’t fail to notice how McLaggen pauses buttering your toast briefly at the mention of Zacharias Smith so he can listen in.

“Nope, we’ve heard nothing,” says Leanne and he resumes. “Not even on Potterwatch.”

“Potterwatch?”

“Lee Jordan does this show on the Wizarding Wireless Network. It’s all underground, top secret so it’s pretty unpredictable trying to find out when it’s on but we still check the radio every night.”

“What about Potter, Weasley and Granger?”

“Well,” says McLaggen, pulling up a chair on your other side and placing the plate of toast in front of you. “We think they were responsible for the Ministry break-in but the Ministry don’t want to admit it.”

Your stomach growls again and you pick up the buttery toast gratefully. It smells like heaven. And it’s hot - the first hot food you’ve had in a long time.

“So what else have you been up to?” you ask and take a bite out of the corner.

“Aside from getting you out of Azkaban?” asks McLaggen with a wry smile. You squeeze his leg with your free hand apologetically. “Well, we stay inside the perimeter of the Fidelius Charm as much as we can. Leanne’s popped out once to the local muggle shop to get food but we’re careful not to use magic or draw attention to ourselves.”

“Cormac volunteered to go but was so blown away by paper money we thought it best that I went instead,” explains Leanne.

“It doesn’t make any sense. What’s the difference between that and a piece of parchment? And the shape of the coins? Muggle money is just plain weird.”

Muggles.

“Oh my god, my parents…” You almost drop your toast.

“It’s alright, they know you’re safe,” says Cho. “We sent them an owl.”

“An owl? Whose?”

“Yours. They sent you a letter when I was still at mine and we’ve been writing back and forth. They know the basics - that you were wrongfully arrested and we were trying to get you out. I didn’t want to frighten them with the details,” says McLaggen.

You nod. “Thank you.”

There’ll be plenty of time to tell them later. When all of this is over. 

If it’s ever over.

You look around the vast, circular kitchen, wondering how long you’ll have to stay here. If there will ever be an end to this regime. And then your eyes find something you thought you’d never see again, in a pile by the back door.

“Is that my broom?” Your heart sings. More than losing your wand, you worried if you’d ever see your Cleansweep Eleven again.

“Yeah, I brought them with our stuff. We can’t fly too high or outside the boundary but I thought you might want it here.”

You recognise the singed tail of McLaggen’s Nimbus 2001 and notice Cho’s too. The other two must be Katie and Leanne’s. Suddenly you feel excitement bubbling in your stomach as an idea, a very stupid, reckless idea forms in your mind.

“Do you remember the mass breakout from Azkaban last year?” You clear your throat, trying to steady your voice. “How did You-Know-Who get all those Death Eaters out?”

“No idea,” says McLaggen. “And trust me, we’ve thought about it a lot. Azkaban is impossible to find. It’s unplottable.”

“Like here?”

“Not exactly. There are protective charms of some kind but there can’t be a Secret Keeper - too many people know about it. Too many employees going in and out.”

“Would it still be unplottable if you’d been inside it?”

They look at each other uncertainly.

“I’m not sure…” says Cho, thoughtfully. “I mean, Leanne, you were able to find your way back here after you left the boundary, right?”

“Yeah, it sprung right up,” says Leanne.

You feel your hands trembling so you put down your toast. “You three all went to Muggle primary schools, right?” 

Leanne, Katie and Cho look at each other confused. They nod.

“What do you know about Dunkirk?”

Chapter 14: Preparations

#cormac mclaggen x female reader #cormac mclaggen #cormac mclaggen x reader #ravenclaw #ravenclaw fanfiction #smut #fanfic #harry potter and the half blood prince #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter and the deathly hallows #freddie stroma

[aceofwhump]

I have a potentially strange question, but the search feature on Tumblr leaves a lot to be desired - do you know of any good WWII whump? Specifically that might involve hospital scenes, or takes place in Europe vs the Pacific theater? The WWII movies I know off the top of my head that involve (admittedly brief) scenes in a hospital/dealing with illness rather than injury are Unbroken (Japan) and Hacksaw Ridge (also Japan), The Great Raid (Phillipines), Flags of Our Fathers (Japan again), and Empire of the Sun (Japan and China). If context helps, I'm working on a one shot for Sam Gillespie and Sister Boniface and referencing his time on Sword Beach. (if you haven't seen it, highly recommend - WWII vet DI is besties with a former code-cracking nun who moonlights as the police scientific advisor and the solve crimes and make puns in 1960's Cotswolds).

I can definitely help you here!! I tend to lean more towards watching ETO WWII media myself. And oddly enough a lot of I've watched doesn't have that much whump. Which is weird for a war film/show. But here are some things I'd recommend:

Band of Brothers - follows U.S. Army troops of E "Easy" Company, 506th Regiment of the 101st Airborne Division from their training in England through D-Day and the rest of the war in Europe.

World on Fire - this show follows characters in Warsaw, Manchester, Berlin, and Paris during their lives as the Nazi party begins to take hold of Europe. Season 1 is set from March 1939 to July 1940 and shows events like the Defense of the Polish Post Office in Danzig, the Battle of the River Plate, the Dunkirk evacuation and the Battle of Britain. Season 2 covers October 1940 to May 1941 and shows the North Africa Campaign, The Blitz, Nazi Germany, and Occupied France.

X-Company - follows five recruits as they are trained as agents at a secret Canadian training facility, Camp X near Lake Ontario east of Toronto and then sent out into the field in Europe.

Dunkirk (2017) - This movie is all about the Battle of Dunkirk and the

Atonement (2007) - Allied soldiers from Belgium, the British Commonwealth and Empire, and France are surrounded by the German Army and evacuated during a fierce battle in World War II.

Combat! - a tv series from the 60s that follows a front line American infantry squad as they battled their way across Europe

Saints and Soldiers (2003) - Four American soldiers and one Brit fighting in Europe during World War II struggle to return to Allied territory after being separated from U.S. forces during the historic Malmedy Massacre.

Saving Private Ryan (1998) - Set in 1944 in France during World War II, it follows a group of soldiers, led by Captain John Miller (Tom Hanks), on their mission to locate Private James Ryan whose three brothers have been killed in combat

finally I totally need to watch sister boniface!! that sounds great!

#mod replies #wwii #ask

[pb-dot]

Film Friday: Inception

Today I'm writing about a movie that's a bit outside of my regular wheelhouse. Inception is not my favorite movie, it probably doesn't even get on the Top 10 shortlist if I'm honest, but it's probably one of my favorite movies ever to think about for a couple of reasons that I suspect are a bit unusual. This is all to say I'm going to go a bit deeper into Film Nerd mode than usual for this one. I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry. Inception spoilers beneath the cut.

So, to start off, I'm not particularly fond of Nolan as a filmmaker. He's extremely gifted on the technical side of filmmaking for sure, and his authorial voice is very strong. That said, his oeuvre seems entirely too cold and clinical to me. Sharp suits, sharp men, complex plans that pivot on perfect twists, near-realistic aesthetics. If there are any emotions involved it's what's ruining everybody's shit. Sometimes, Batman is there. You know, the whole bag.

Nolan makes complex clockwork movies that frequently fuck with time in an interesting way, but there's an emotional distance, or perhaps I should say "distance from emotion" to the whole thing which makes very few of them stick in any meaningful way. For example: I remember Dunkirk being a technically impressive movie that did some spicy things what narrative pacing is considered, but I couldn't tell you a single thing about who it was about, or even what those spicy narrative decisions were in service of.

There is, however, one notable exception. In his 2010 movie Inception, Nolan assembles one of, if not the most complex mechanism yet, and somehow it manages to be his most emotionally honest film. It's quite the impressive magic trick, and I would argue he achieves it by reaching a level of emotional honesty that one seldom sees from mainstream filmmakers.

Inception is a film about a crew of exceptional thieves specializing in cracking the final vault, the human mind. Using technology that lets them enter the dreams of their targets, they seek to extract company secrets, classified intel, and other pieces of knowledge that can most easily be hidden in memory. However, their troubled leader Cobb finds himself compelled to attempt a job thought impossible, Inception. Their mission is to plant in the mind of energy company heir Robert Fischer the idea of breaking up his company through a dream heist. This heist is complicated not only by the sheer deftness the crew must show in planting an idea without leaving any trace, but also by Cobb's own psychological scars that threaten to destabilize the carefully planned multi-level heist.

The first level I want to look at here is the central metaphor of the Mind Heist gang being analogous to a filmmaking crew. They're all creative and immensely focused people coming together under the direction of a man with a vision, Cobb. This description is perhaps a bit over-general, but what elevates the Filmmaking-as-heist idea to me is how the heists in Inception are specifically about creating a narrative. It is especially important with the main heist as creating a narrative in the head of the target is part and parcel of the inception, but even in the other heist we get to see, setting up a narrative is pivotal to stealing the information they're looking for.

As an aside, this narrative-making and the need for realism that comes with it also justifies what I consider to be my main sticking point with the film, in that the dreams are so very true to life and low-tech, while dreams in my experience tend to be strange, surreal and malleable experiences. This explains at least from the Watsonian perspective. From a Doylist point of view, it's more likely because Nolan is most comfortable with a near-realistic style of narrative, and this strict adherence to something approaching the realitylike makes his complex drama puzzleboxes easier to follow.

So, the heist crew are, essentially, filmmakers, which would, at least in today's Western film tradition, would make Cobb the director. In much the same way as Roy Neary in Close Encounters Of The Third Kind can be read as a stand-in for director Steven Spielberg, Cobb functions as our Nolan stand-in for Inception. Cobb is, however, far from a blank slate, or frankly a particularly idolized self. He is, in short, a mess.

After going deeper into the world of dreaming than anyone before him, Cobb has crossed some ethical Rubicons, especially when attempting to deal with his now-dead wife Mal and her reluctance to leave the world of dreaming. After performing the first-ever inception to plant the idea in Mal's head that the dream world is, indeed, not the real world, Cobb finds himself constantly troubled by anxiety as to whether he's asleep or awake. Whether this is a direct consequence or reaction to the act of inception, paranoia stemming from such a perspective-shifting thing even being possible, a manifestation of the guilt he feels over Mal's return to the waking world ending with her suicide, or even a sign that Mal did some incepting of her own, is something we can only speculate on.

Regardless of what exactly is eating Cobb, it manifests in his work. The heist crew frequently finds their efforts frustrated by incursions from Cobb's mind. The most common of these is Mal, or at least Cobb's mental recreation of her, throwing a wrench in their plans, and, in one particularly memorable case, a freight train running through an area a freight train really has no business being. Cobb tries to minimize the risk of this by not taking point and not being too directly involved, but this does little to dissuade his cocktail of trauma and troubled emotions from coming damn close to upending the entire thing.

The heist, however, does succeed. Through a series of bluffs and maneuvers, they manage to navigate Fischer Jr. to what he believes to be the deepest corner of his mind, where lies the comprehension, represented by a deathbed conversation with the man. Through this, Fischer realizes his recently departed father wishes for Robert to break up the energy conglomerate Fischer Sr. built, and instead make something for himself. It's a scene of high drama, and no small amount of catharsis as the troubled Robert realizes his father was never disappointed in him, and merely wanted his boy to be the best version of himself he could be. It's quite stirring stuff.

It is, however, a lie. This isn't Fischer Sr. revealing himself to be a caring father with trouble communicating the same, hell, it isn't even Robert's interpretation of the man. It is a scenario set up by the dream heist team with the express intention of making the dreaming Fischer Jr. believe this was his unconscious mind telling him to break up his energy conglomerate. It isn't Fischer Sr., not even as an imperfect mental construct by Fischer Jr., it's a construction of the heist crew. It's an act of manipulation, a triumphant act of manipulation, yes, but an act of manipulation all the same.

And still, even upon rewatching the movie with this knowledge well in hand, it's hard to not be swept along by the sheer force of emotion in that moment. Part of it is because it feels so necessary for the character. Fischer Jr. isn't just a target in the context of the scene, he's a troubled man with a complicated relationship to his father. He needs to settle his self-doubt and dismay with the stern and aloof parent he grew up with, and after his death, he still needs the catharsis. So in a way, it doesn't matter much that Fischer Sr. isn't the real deal, Fischer Jr. knows he's in a dream at this point, hell, it maybe doesn't even matter if the dream construct isn't his own. Perhaps what the dream-construct father says is what the wayward son needs to hear, although it'll certainly change the energy market in some pretty dramatic ways. Perhaps, or perhaps Cobb has become such a skilled manipulator his reach extends to the audience, but returning to our metaphor of Cobb as a Nolan stand-in, what is filmmaking if not manipulating and eliciting emotional reactions?

To further reinforce the point that this cathartic, but fake, heart-to-heart isn't the climax of the story, Cobb's journey isn't done. In the process of doing something thought impossible for the second time, Cobb is forced to do something impossible yet again, parallel to Fischer's revelation. This time, it is to dive deeper into the layered dreaming still in pursuit of his exit strategy, to the unconscious, chaotic under-realm of Limbo, from which there is no waking. This was from whence he managed to rescue himself and Mal back after the first inception, and although it is far from pleasant, he yet again manages to pull through and emerge from the dream.

Or does he? The movie does play with the possibility that the reality that Cobb emerges into is merely another dream in Limbo. It could be because of this the cinematography gets somewhat less focused as the heist concludes and Cobb finds his highest wish fulfilled, exoneration both in the eyes of the law and himself from any wrongdoing in Mal's death and the opportunity to return to his children.

Now, before I bring this all home, I feel I should speak briefly on Totems in Inception. The Totem is a series of different objects made by the various members of the heist crew. These items, Cobb's is a spinning top, are modified by each individual member and is only to be handled by them. The logic here is that these items are supposed to be a way to check whether you're in somebody else's dream, as you can check the object and how it interacts with the world to verify that it's doing what it's supposed to do, the weighted die falls to the number it's supposed to, the spinning top spins out and tips over like you'd expect it to. Throughout the movie, Cobb has a spinning top he checks regularly, some would say with obsessively, only feeling fully safe once the top tips over.

This is all to explain the lead-up to the final moment of the movie. Cobb, true to his habit, spins his top before meeting his children. He does, however, not wait for it to tip over, and instead goes to meet his children. The camera remains on the top, and moments before it becomes clear whether the top will fall over or continue, the movie cuts to credits.

Many have taken this as a challenge of sorts, a call to action to analyze the logic and events of the movie for signs. Is this a movie about a man succeeding or about a man succumbing? Is what we see in the closing minutes of the movie real, or is it a comfortable lie Limbo has formed around Cobb like it once did around him and Mal?

Personally, I say it does not matter. The story of Cobb ends with him leaving behind his totem for a reason. He has rid himself of the fear that has plagued him since emerging from Limbo and Mal's death. What if it was Mal who was right, and the quote-unquote real world was nothing more than a particularly elaborate Limbo dream. What if he never incepted anything, what if he's still dreaming within dreaming, stuck in a holding pattern until the impossibly long dream ends, his mind rent asunder by experiencing more time and place than a human mind is meant to bear. What if the top never stops spinning?

As my sequence of retelling might imply, I believe it was experiencing the inception scene with Fischer that helped Cobb clear the final hurdle and face his fears. Even if what Fischer experienced wasn't real, it had a powerful, arguably positive effect on the man. It gave him something he'd never get in the real world, closure. It wasn't real, but it was real enough.

So that is, I believe, what we're meant to take from that spinning top. The point isn't whether the top has stopped spinning or not, but rather that Cobb has stopped checking. Spin or not, Cobb's journey is not real. It's a movie, told by a crew of talented creatives, guided by a man with a vision and the willingness to show us things that aren't real to give us catharsis, show us wonder and terror, entertain us, and perhaps, give us some closure. "Try not to dwell on it," the movie says, as if aware of the deluge of movie buffs and wannabe theorists that would descend on this movie like they do on every movie with their red circles and reading metaphors as mechanics, "Even if it's fake, it's Real Enough."

#film friday #inception #oh lord this turned out long #I always feel conflicted while talking about this movie because I try not to psychoanalyze the author #I mean I've never even met the man #but it is hard to avoid while talking about an auteur making a movie about being an auteur #but I did hold back on it a bit - hope it doesn't read as too egregious #also for the record I'm so so on auteur theory #but that's another post for another day

[shiveringsoldier]

I wrote an 1100-word review/essay about Dunkirk (2017) on a whim. Please enjoy.

-

-All we did is survive.

-That’s enough.

 I don’t know if I can truly articulate just how much I adore this film, but I’ll try.

I’ll start with the tone. The tension is palpable from the first frame to the last. Even in the seemingly calm moments, the unease remains. Something seems off, or you sense the possibility that at any moment things can go horribly wrong. One can only sustain a suspenseful tone for so long, and Dunkirk is the perfect length for it.

The score and sound design do a lot to maintain that tone. The first two or three times I saw this film, I quite literally jumped at the first round of gunfire. The scream of the Stukas is terrifying, and the screams of soldiers under attack are jarring. Even when things are quiet, sound is a dead giveaway for things to come, whether it’s the barely perceptible rustle of an oncoming torpedo or trickles of water escalating to a flooded ship. The score is more about mood than melody. The use of tritones and the Shepard tone illusion add to the unease and tension, and the momentary triumph in the score as the little ships arrive feels so incredibly earned. This even continues through the end credits, with the score beginning with the more triumphant music and ending with Shivering Soldier’s leitmotif.

The cinematography is immaculate, from the aerial shots to the close-ups to the lighting to the blue and yellow color palette. I like the different timelines and the way they all come together for the climax and resolution. Everyone in the cast delivers a top-notch performance. And the minimal dialogue is so realistic. I love that there are no eloquent speeches or monologues. I love that we hear Churchill’s speech not through Churchill’s mouth but through a monotone reading from an exhausted Tommy. Collins and Farrier only communicate in compliance with RAF protocol. The communication among Tommy, Gibson, and Alex is largely nonverbal, mostly through glances and nods. The most verbal characters (Mr. Dawson, Peter, and George) are the ones who have known each other the longest. The first time I watched Dunkirk, I don’t think I noticed that Gibson hadn’t said anything until Alex pointed it out, but I guess that goes to show the effectiveness of the minimal dialogue.

A common criticism of the film, at least in 2017, is that the characters are poorly defined. I have never shared that issue. Despite the lack of extensive backstory – and, in some cases, the lack of names – for everyone except the Dawsons and George, I found myself deeply invested in every character the first time I saw this film back in July 2017, and I have found myself becoming even more invested over time. One video essay I saw says the characters in the film are defined by their actions, and I think that’s a very accurate assessment. We see that Gibson is resourceful. Collins is not as experienced as Farrier. Farrier’s stoic veneer occasionally cracks. Shivering Soldier appears to have been confident and practical prior to his traumatic event. Commander Bolton is calm and authoritative. Colonel Winnant keeps his composure despite his growing stress and despair. Tommy is aware of his surroundings. Alex is prone to paranoia and low self-esteem. Plus every character is driven by the inherently human need to survive and/or to help others. All of this is more than enough to get me invested.

Speaking of help, this film is filled with small but impactful moments of kindness. Tommy helps Gibson bury a body, and Gibson offers him water once the deed is done. Civilians offer food, tea, blankets, life jackets, and words of encouragement to weary soldiers. Soldiers treat dead bodies floating in the water with deference. Collins greets Peter with “Afternoon” after Peter rescues him. Mr. Dawson’s first action after rescuing Shivering Soldier is to ask him his name. Peter later lies to that same soldier to protect his feelings. No one can do anything to make this horrible situation go away, but everyone does what little they can to make the situation a little more bearable.

And I would be remiss if I didn’t talk at some length about Shivering Soldier, my favorite character from this film and one of my favorite characters period. He had my heart from the moment I saw him crouched atop the hull of the sunken ship, and my love for him has only grown over time. He doesn’t get a name, but he does get his own track in the score. We have only a vague idea of the trauma he’s experienced, but the flashback scene tells us it must have been something truly horrific. I’ve heard a couple of people say they didn’t even realize it was the same character at first. It is horrifying to think about his journey from escape to near death to rescue only to be forced to return to the hell from which he so desperately needs to escape. And as someone who survived multiple traumatic events in a span of about 13 months, I find myself relating almost uncomfortably to him.

I can’t speak highly enough about Cillian Murphy’s performance. He may not have terribly many lines, but he tells you everything with his eyes and his body language and the way he retreats into himself and recoils at the slightest provocation. I love that his panic builds up gradually rather than all at once. You know that it’s only a matter of time before he reaches his breaking point, and there’s nothing you can do but watch. And despite his inadvertent killing of George, I adore how sympathetic the film is to him. Mr. Dawson is so kind to him and tells George (and the audience by extension) that the soldier is traumatized, not cowardly. When Peter lies to the soldier and says George will be okay, Mr. Dawson nods approvingly. And when Mr. Dawson notices him trembling after the last-ditch Stuka attack, he helps him up and gives him a comforting pat on the shoulder. I don’t know, it’s just refreshing and comforting to see a traumatized character portrayed with such humanity and treated with such compassion.

This film is about a catastrophic defeat and people trapped in this hell when attempt after attempt to escape ends in disaster, but there is kindness to be found even in these horrible circumstances. And I just find that moving. And that’s why, despite the endless anxiety this film gives me, I consider it a comfort movie. I will never tire of it.

#Dunkirk #Dunkirk 2017 #.txt #* #dunkirkposting

[allwaswell16]

This is a fic rec of One Direction fan fics where Harry's character has rugged qualities as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other recs here. Happy reading!

-Larry-

♣️ Let's Fall in Love in a Place You Want to Stay by embro / @harryventura

(NR, 134k, jungle man au, model Louis, Africa, crack, fashion, smut)

A George of the Jungle / Tarzan AU where Louis is a model who meets Wild Man Harry in the Congo. 

♣️ Wild And Unruly by @100percentsassy & gloria_andrews / @gloriaandrews

(E, 123k, farm/ranch au, cowboy Harry, paralegal Louis, Wyoming, small town, cows, angst with a happy ending, fluff, smut)

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

♣️ electing strange perfections by @scrunchyharry

(E, 84k, gardner Harry, younger Louis, rich Louis, summer love, coming out, angst, fluff, first time, homophobia, coming of age, smut)

Back for the summer from university, 19-year-old Louis is faced with a massive problem: their new gardener is quite possibly the most gorgeous man he's ever met.

♣️ After Dark, After Light by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(E, 71k, historical au, Medieval, Scottish Highlander, Laird Harry, commander Louis, secret relationship, light angst, battle, kidnapping, slow burn, sexual tension, smut)

Harry Styles is the laird of Clan Edwards who is just trying to keep his clan afloat when they get word that the Mackenzies have been cutting a swath through the Midlands and beyond, and their sights are set on the northern Highlands next.

♣️ Until (series) by @allwaswell16

(E, 61k, farm/ranch au, cowboy Harry, former movie star Harry, songwriter Louis, second part Shiall, pop star Niall, cowboy Shawn, Colorado, horses, hate to love, songfic, famous/not famous, smut)

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

♣️ Now That This Old World Is Ending by daggerinrose / @thetommmoarchives

(E, 49k, Far Cry au, cult, kidnapping, archer Harry, camping, violence, guns, angst with a happy ending, adventure, survival, smut)

Louis soon discovers that the area has been taken over by a cult and teams up with a resentful archer with fire in his eyes and blood on his hands.

♣️ No Hold to Hold Onto by @kingsofeverything

(E, 48k, historical au, farm/ranch, cowboy Louis, cowboy Harry, character injury, horses, rodeo riders, smut)

When Harry goes looking for help learning a new way to rope and ride, the last thing he expects to find is love.

♣️ On the Edge by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche

(E, 47k, Olympics au, hockey player Harry, figure skater Louis, Canada, athletes, fluff, angst, edging, masturbation, mentions of eating disorder, references to death, past injuries, smut)

Harry’s too old to be the wonder kid and too young to be taken seriously in the NHL. As an alternate thrown in at the last second, he fights to prove himself on the national team at the largest sporting event known to man. Or he will, once he gets off this flight and can focus on something other than the fussy figure skater and his stunningly blue eyes.

♣️ All That You Are by asphodelknox / @iamasphodelknox

(M, 40k, historical au, Dunkirk, soldier Harry, war, WWII, angst, PTSD, period typical homophobia, letters, character injuries, happy ending)

Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson meet on a civilian boat, taking them home after their rescue from Dunkirk.

♣️ The Pirate and The Piper by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 38k, Peter Pan au, pirate Harry, Harry as Captain Hook, Louis as Peter Pan, enemies to friends to lovers, fantasy, magic, supernatural creatures, minor violence, minor character death, hurt/comfort, flirting, smut)

Or the one where Harry is Hook, Louis is Pan, and nothing is what it seems.

♣️ sunflowers, sunshine, and you by @soldouthaz

(E, 28k, small town, sheriff Harry, enemies to lovers, light angst, past abuse, smut)

Sunshine county is small but mighty and Harry takes pride in knowing nearly each and every person that lives inside of it. For nearly eleven years now he’s been sheriff, and not one of them he’s ever regretted settling down here.

♣️ (summer is over) and i wanna leave you satisfied by patdkitten / @babyarcanacasey

(M, 25k, uni au, roommates, one night stand, ballet dancer Louis, hockey player Harry, royalty, miscommunication)

On the very last night of his summer break in London, Louis Tomlinson hooks up with a hot guy. When he gets back home, his roommates tell him that they're going to be getting a new roommate. 

♣️ It's the Climb by @lululawrence

(NR, 25k, Hannah Montana au, famous/not famous, famous Louis, Tennessee, secret identity, songwriting, farm/ranch, horses, secrets, pining, fluff)

The Hannah Montana AU where Louis is a world famous punk rock singer with a stage name of William and Jay drags him back to Tennessee for the summer.

♣️ some evening in springtime by delsicle / @eeveelou

(M, 20k, farm/ranch au, rancher Harry, veterinarian Louis, older Harry, age difference, disabled character, hurt/comfort, sexuality crisis, coming out)

Fresh out of veterinary school, Louis moves to a sleepy small town in Texas to take over the local animal clinic. But his new life is quickly interrupted by a middle aged rancher with a bad leg and a mysterious past, who really needs Louis's yoga skills.

♣️ The Wilds by @jaerie

(E, 13k, a/b/o, alpha Harry, omega Louis, animal instincts, non con, mating, forced bonding, scenting, exhibitionism, knotting, soul bond, public sex)

The creatures that Louis observed every day weren't exactly human, but yet they were. Researchers had plucked some of them from their secluded island and transplanted them into an enclosure against their will like a bunch of zoo animals. 

♣️ Chased the High by crimsontheory / @ireallysawanangel

(E, 12k, firefighter au, firefighter Louis, firefighter Harry, car accident, friends to lovers, pining, smut)

Or the one where Louis and Harry are both fireman and Louis doesn't know how much longer he can go on harboring his feelings for Harry.

♣️ say forever, you'll be mine by dilfrry / @silverfoxrry

(E, 12k, trucker Harry, masseuse Louis, strangers to lovers, first date, older Harry, flirting, smut)

the trucker harry fic i wrote for my own guilty pleasure

♣️ Wild at Heart Ain't Hard to Find by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(E, 11k, girl direction, Western, tourists, blacksmith Harry, porn with plot, strangers to lovers, smut)

The town boasts tours, excursions, activities, and the hottest woman Louis has ever seen in the form of the local blacksmith.

♣️ sensitive to pressure by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry

(E, 4k, established relationship, secret relationship, closeted characters, hockey player Harry, hockey player Louis, famous/famous, dirty talk, light angst, body worship, pwp, smut)

Harry’s breath stutters on its way up his throat, his cheeks heating more with each step as Louis gets closer and Harry can’t move.

-Rare Pairs-

♣️ I pledge my hands to larger service by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(M, 4k, Harry/Tim Riggins, former football player Harry, Texas, wrestling, friends to lovers, kissing, Friday Night Lights fusion, implied smut)

Harry hasn't seen his high school crush since he graduated over ten years ago. 

#1dficvillage #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource #ficrec #uhoh-but-yeah-alright #gaycousinlarry #becomeawendybird #ireallysawanangel #jaerie #kingsofeverything #lululawrence #eeveelou #jacaranda-bloom #babyarcanacasey #soldouthaz #iamasphodelknox #zanniscaramouche #thetommmoarchives #harryventura #gloriaandrews #100percentsassy #scrunchyharry #allwaswell16

[mochimiyaas]

🪐 hello! i am back from oppenheimer. prepare for spoilers.

every time he had an anxiety attack or envisioned the A-bomb,, i had one too. hhhh i wanted to clap my hands over my ears, shut my eyes, and run out of the theater screaming.

there was also the nudity?? like the writers were like, "yes. oppenheimer was a womanizer. but this is a historical movie. um. how about we put the "porn without plot" trope?" coulda showed it another way. the nudity scenes were so so awkward. i don't mind nudity in movies; don't get me wrongfjdjdj just . if it's awkwardly done,,, it's such a turn-off for me aaaa

plot-wise,,, it is so sad?? and kinda confusing?? i get he had a rough life with the whole deposition. but ?????? maybe i just see it that way bc i was expecting something like dunkirk or darkest hour. not . *waves hands towards oppenheimer* (imitation game was kinda the same deal; the fact it was moreso about the person rather than the history of how the enigma code was broken and the device used to crack it,,,,,,, bit of a letdown. my mistake for raising the bar for my hopes and expectations for both movies too high.)

lots of cool actors that appeared either briefly or not. uh gary oldman played harry truman (recognized him from darkest hour). florence pugh!! cillian murphy, ofc. OMG! RAMI MALEK AND ROBERT DOWNEY JR. had to do a double take when i realized he played strauss lmao matt damon, emily blunt, tony goldwyn, kenneth branagh, christopher denham, gregory jbara, jason clark, james d'arcy, jack quaid, dane dehaan!!!!! oh! and tim dekay from i think??? white collar? lmao i got whiplash seeing so many people from things like argo, white collar, blue bloods, dunkirk, scandal, hawkeye and black widow (florence pugh), peaky blinders, devil wears prada and a quiet place (emilyblunt), bourne movies and interstellar (matt damon), zero dark thirty. it was wild!!

LASTLY,,,,, contrary to all my criticism, a piece of me did enjoy oppenheimer. from a history buff's pov aka. mine,, it was hella interesting learning the history and science and politics surrounding the bomb making process. also emily blunt's performance was the cherry on top! holy shit! my favorite scene is where it is her character's turn to be interviewed and kitty keeps turning the prosecutor's questions right back at him. the way she took no shit! get me a woman like kitty oppenheimer!! also it was so so cool how they did the scenes for strauss in black and white but the scenes with oppenheimer in color. really liked that! music score was kinda?? good?? probs?? would only listen to one or two tracks tho.

anyway. would i go see oppenheimer again? not really. no. what would i rate it? hm........... 6?? out of 10 stars. i take two off for the confusing way they did the plot and two more off for the nudity. if you're not a history buff like me and will enjoy oppenheimer solely as a movie,,,, then maybe? you'll like it. if ur a history buff like me,,, probably?? not then? go give it a try, anyway, tho, if u can!

#shut up em. #movies #oppenheimer

[wellthatwasaletdown]

I just think it’s funny that if any of the other guys were in two movies and the critics were saying they gave a shit performance in both and neither could crack 50% on rotten tomatoes harries would be all over it. Saying how they’re a flop, how embarrassing they are and everything else. But when it comes to their fav? Suddenly all the critics are homophobic. It’s the directors fault in dwd but he was bad in mp too so are they gonna blame that director too? Tried to say the drama surrounding dwd made critics hate the movie and that hate spilled over into mp reviews, not that he’s actually just a bad actor.

He's a horrible actor--we've been saying that since Dunkirk (and knowing it since iCarly).

Also, the biggest reason so many people dragged the director for his performance in DWD was because Girl Boss was the one who said that, if an actor isn't good, it's the director's fault. Michael Grandage didn't say something that foolish.

[trulyinspiringmovies]

Don’t Worry Darling

“Don’t Worry Darling” was a movie I was initially excited about, but then the drama and bad reviews ruined my excitement, and I ended up putting off this movie for months.

Alice Chambers is a housewife who is in an extremely loving relationship with her husband, Jack. Everything seems to be perfect until one day, one of the neighborhood wives, Margret, starts going down the deep end. She becomes an outcast for going out into the desert they were forbidden to go to with her son, resulting in her losing her son. Now Alice is starting to see the cracks in her reality and thinks Jack’s boss, Frank, has something to do with it.

When I first saw this trailer, I instantly wanted to watch it. Florence Pugh is great in everything she’s in. Harry Style was surprisingly good in “Dunkirk” and I was looking forward to seeing his potentially budding career in Hollywood. Gemma Chan and Chris Pine are also actors who I know from high-quality works, so this was shaping up to be a movie filled with powerful performances. I also love the idea of an idyllic 1950s suburbia hiding something sinister under the surface. After watching the trailer for the first time, my mind was racing about all the different reasons why the strange happenings were going on in the movie. Maybe the husbands were working on some Manhattan Project-level machine that was changing the fabric of reality. During the lead-up to the movie, I couldn’t escape the behind-the-scenes drama of this movie. I was scared that it would negatively impact this movie. Then the reviews started pouring in and it was clear that this movie was a flop. This was enough for me to lose interest in it entirely and catch it if it was ever convenient for me. After watching the movie, I can say that the reviews were right. The majority of the movie had nothing for me to latch onto. I knew something was off about the world, but a majority of this movie kept reiterating that something was off about the world. It doesn’t do what other great mystery movies do and slowly peel back the layers for an eventual answer. Instead, the movie seemed content with just leaving the layers alone and then unenthusiastically ripping off all the layers at once. What was left was uninspired, to say the least. The big twist is contrived and also not thought out at all. It left me with more questions than answers, and definitely not in a good way. The questions are more about how the ending wouldn’t make sense for a myriad of reasons within the context that was given. Then, all the aspects that were never given any context just seem to be planted to make the movie more enigmatic. It sucks too since I was loving the 1950s aesthetics and the score. They would’ve been iconic supplementary parts of the film if the story was actually good. It also sucks because Florence Pugh was giving it her all with her performance. She’s carrying the movie on her back and if it weren’t for her, this movie would easily be two stars from me. After watching the movie, I found out that Olivia Wilde made “Booksmart” which was a movie I enjoyed quite a lot. Maybe she’s better off sticking to comedy for the time being because mystery thrillers are definitely not her strong suit.

★★★

Watched on January 1st, 2023

#Don't Worry Darling #September #2022 #Horror #Thriller #Drama #Pyschological #Mystery #R #Olivia Wilde #January 2023 #3 stars

[squadron-leader-farrier]

The gang as texts from my groupchat Part 7:

It’s a running theme now

Part 6

#yes it’s the same thing twice shush #dunkirk (2017) #thegangposting #dunkirk crack #shivering soldier #colonel winnant

[torestoreamends]

Shattered

1.6k words, G rated

Kazuma corners Gregson aboard the SS Grouse, determined to extract the truth of what happened ten years ago around his father's conviction.

Note: I've always loved the connection between the breaking of Karuma and the breaking of Kazuma's spirit. This was particularly inspired by @dance-of-deduction's brilliant Kazuma meta.

Read the fic on AO3

*

The mirror above the wash basin in the Dunkirk boarding house’s cheapest room is cracked. Kazuma stares at his reflection, and a dozen fractal shards of himself stare back. It’s as if he’s looking simultaneously at every disparate identity he’s held over the past twelve months.

Student. Attorney. Partner. Corpse. Deck hand. Apprentice. Assassin.

He braces his hands against the cold porcelain of the basin edge, head bowed, teeth gritted; eyes closed so he doesn’t have to face himself anymore.

Everything was so much easier when his mind was blank. When he was guided by nothing but the anonymous voice. But now the voice is gone. Now he has to find his own path.

The seal is broken. His memories have returned. And he’ll never be whole again.

*

The cabin was functionally identical to the one in which Kazuma died. He may not have quite remembered everything, but he remembered that. The bed, the wardrobe, the shelf of books, the rules of passage. The sudden familiarity of it spiked so sharply through his mind that he froze for a moment in the doorway.

Gregson – the mark – glanced back at him. “Everythin’ alright?” As gruff as his voice was, Kazuma knew it was an earnest question. He cared, in his way. Which jarred. All these people, the people who killed his father. They were so human. Kind, even.

He nodded at Gregson. Months of not speaking had taught him that sometimes saying nothing was the safest course of action. Words, no matter how carefully crafted or delivered, could give so much away.

“Very good. Well.” Gregson folded his arms. “The mark’s not due back from dinner for another twenty minutes or so, so I suppose we should make ourselves comfortable. Just a shame there’s no tea, eh? A spot o’ tea would do just the trick after that journey.” He laughed, but it wasn’t a real laugh. It was a sound to fill what would otherwise have been a horrible silence before a horrible deed. Apparently ten years hadn’t been enough for him to become used to this.

Kazuma gave an amused hum, which seemed to be the minimum response required of him.

“These ship cabins get fancier every day,” Gregson went on. “Most of the hotels in London aren’t this nice.” He turned his back on Kazuma and wandered away across the room to inspect the wardrobe.

Kazuma’s stomach twisted.

This was it. His chance.

He clenched his fists tight to try to hide the tremble of his hands from himself. A year ago he was so good at projected confidence he could fool even himself, but somewhere along the way he must have lost that ability along with everything else.

He turned back to the closed cabin door and slid the bolt silently home. Trapping them together. Neither of them would leave until he knew the truth.

“I heard a story about a man stowing away inside one of these wardrobes,” the inspector laughed. “Must have been bloody uncomfortable. All that time at sea, trapped in— Hang on, what do you think you’re doin’?”

Kazuma drew his family’s sword. That at least he could do unwaveringly.

The inspector’s gaze flickered from the flawless, ancient blade to the bolted cabin door. He sighed. “We were never here for Jigoku, were we?”

Kazuma resettled his grip on the sword and shook his head.

The inspector bowed his head. “Right, I see… You’re that Asogi’s young lad, are you? I recognise the sword. He used to walk around London with that thing strapped to his hip.”

“Karuma,” Kazuma said softly. “Its name is Karuma.” It mattered, for some reason. As if somehow respect for the blade would somehow translate into respect for his father. For himself.

“And what?” The inspector eyed him. Wary, but not afraid. Almost as if he’d expected something like this. “You’re gonna cut me down with that thing, is that it?”

“That very much depends on the answers you give to my questions. I want to know what really happened ten years ago. The truth. That’s all.”

The inspector looked away from him. A long, heavy silence filled the cabin.

All Kazuma’s nerves had deserted him. From the day that letter about his father arrived from England, his whole life had led him to this moment, in this room. There was nothing left but focus. Purpose. His desire for answers. His desire for— “Before we get into it,” the inspector said, “let me make one thing clear.”

Kazuma narrowed his eyes.

“I still believe your father was the Professor. There’s no doubt in my mind.”

“But?” Kazuma prompted.

The inspector put his hands into his pockets and sighed. There was something almost… sad… about his expression. “But. Unfortunately back then… we didn’t have the evidence we needed to make the crime stick.”

Something white hot and acidic burned in Kazuma’s throat. He swallowed hard and tightened his grip on Karuma. The whole world narrowed to one fine point, darkness obscuring everything but the inspector’s face. The regret in his eyes.

“So… you admit it then?” The words were low and menacing. He had never heard himself sound quite like that before. It reminded him of the Reaper – a man with the will and capability to exact the cruellest of retribution. It disgusted him. And yet… “The evidence used in my father’s trial was fabricated?”

The inspector bowed his head. “It was for the good o’ the country. Anyway… I was just followin’ orders.”

“Orders? What exactly did you do?”

The inspector looked away, and the bubble of heat inside Kazuma exploded, sending a wave of pure fury crashing through him.

Some barely remembered part of himself screamed. A counterpoint to the rush of anger. The scream of someone lost, searching desperately for help. But Kazuma Asogi was so good at being lost after all these months that he hardly knew anymore how it felt to be found.

“Speak!” He roared.

The inspector didn’t even blink. “I’m not sayin’ another word.”

“Even if your life depends on it?”

The inspector nodded. “That’s right. Even then.”

Kazuma raised the sword high, blazing at the inspector – the mark.

All along he’d told himself he just wanted the truth; that he would never kill. But that was before. Before he forgot. Before he remembered. Before the seal was broken.

In the absence of truth, revenge would do.

Nothing remained in the world but the sword in his hand and the heart of the mark. His target.

He narrowed his eyes. Gritted his teeth. Tightened his shoulders. He was a snake preparing to strike.

Palms, clammy against Karuma’s grip. Breath, desperate, angry snatches. Ears, ringing with the same scream from earlier. Except in the instant before he struck, when it was too late to stop, he realised he’d misunderstood that scream.

It wasn’t the cry of someone lost. It was a shout of warning. Calling him back from the edge before he fell.

And it wasn’t his voice. It was Ryunosuke’s.

He swung the sword.

A scream tore through the cabin. Scorched his throat.

There was a horrible shattering grate of metal on metal. Pain jarred his wrists and arms. The delicate spiderweb of fractures that had run across his soul when his memories returned the other night cracked irreparably. And he shattered.

The soul of the Asogi clan shattered.

*

He sits on the edge of the lumpy bed in the boarding house and stares down at Karuma’s broken tip. The beautiful, storied blade handed down to him from generations of warriors, ruined. By his hand.

All its nobility is gone. It looks so much smaller now. Small and broken, just like him.

He came here with a mission. He was supposed to find the truth and avenge his father. But he’s failed utterly to do either. Inspector Gregson was right in front of him, and still he couldn’t see it through.

He is a failure. He hardly deserves to carry the Asogi name, let alone its legacy.

The Kazuma who was worthy of it; who was brave and determined and knew who he was is gone. Twice now he’s died in a tiny cabin on a steamship bound for London. All that’s left is an empty shell, haunted by the demons of a past he barely remembers.

And that’s why Karuma is broken. If he is the last remaining remnant of the Asogi clan then of course it is. Karuma is their will, their soul, their spirit. And Kazuma is nothing but a lost boy far from home. His will and spirit crushed to dust.

He sheathes the damaged sword so he doesn’t have to look at it anymore, and places it on the bed beside him. Then he sits and stares down at his hands as choking hot tears rise in his throat and prickle his eyes.

It’s been years since he cried. Even when Yujin Mikotoba told him his father had fallen ill and died on British soil. Even when he said goodbye to his mother. The only thing he felt was raw numbness. But now… All because of a stupid broken sword.

Except it’s not just the sword, whispers the kind, familiar voice inside him that he now recognises as belonging to Ryunosuke Naruhodo. It’s everything.

Everything.

The loss of his father, his mother, his belief in truth and justice, his memories, his dreams, his whole entire self.

It’s okay, Ryunosuke’s voice murmurs. You can let go now. You won’t fall.

Kazuma closes his eyes.

Later, he will sleep. Later, he will gather his strength to return to London and learn how to fight again. Later, he will discover that the will of the Asogi clan is still alive in haikus and secrets and scarlet ink.

But for now, he clenches his fingers in his hair, hangs his head, and sobs.

#dgs #dgs2 #kazuma asogi #kazuma asougi #tobias gregson #dgs2 spoilers #dgs spoilers #tgaac #tgaac2 #ace attorney #great ace attorney #dai gyakuten saiban #tgaa #tgaa spoilers #my writing #dgs fic #angst #this is basically just a bit of Kazuma angst and it's really all dance-of-deduction's fault #that's all there is to it #the idea of the snake burning with the temple really got to me #also I still think broken Karuma is the most heartbreaking image in the games #it just looks so sad once it's shattered #it's almost unforgiveable #and the comparison between that and the breaking of Kazuma's spirit #and the whole speech he makes with Daley about how memories coming back might crush someone's spirit but if so let it be crushed #there's just a lot to unpack #the man is a mess in these three cases #he needs a good cry #(and a hug) #everyone in these games needs a hug tbh

[deadlinecom]

[denimbex1986]

'IMAX, the most captivating film format in film history, has been a trademark for acclaimed filmmaker Christopher Nolan ever since The Dark Knight. The director is famous for praising the technology, describing the experience as watching a 3D movie without the 3D glasses. Being the pioneer of using such developments, it would only make sense for him to advocate its use. However, this begs an interesting question: if IMAX is that good, why aren't other filmmakers using it? There are a lot of factors to consider, but the pros far outweigh the cons. IMAX is indeed the future, and with the rapid rise of advancements in filmmaking technology, there is a strong argument to make that more filmmakers should be presenting their movies this way.

What Is IMAX 70mm Format?

Essentially, IMAX is a film format that prides itself on being the world's most immersive movie experience to date. Compared to the industry standard of projecting 35mm film reels, IMAX doubles it by horizontally running 70mm film into a projector. Because of its high resolution and tall aspect ratio, it requires a theater of its own with specialized seating akin to those of sports stadiums. Historically speaking, this is not a particularly new technology. Fox Grandeur 70mm was initially developed in 1929, and prospective films such as Lawrence of Arabia used this to great effect. Most recently, Quentin Tarantino's The Hateful Eight was projected through Ultra Panavision 70mm film. What makes IMAX different is rather than being a mere 70mm film format which takes up 5 perforations on the filmstrip, it takes 15. This is where it gets its generic name of "15/70" format. It produces a bigger, wider, and more riveting image on the screen. Initially used for museum projections, Nolan has self-proclaimed to have discovered this technology's usage in motion pictures and has subsequently used it to great effect in his works.

When Has Christopher Nolan Used IMAX 70mm?

The Dark Knight was one of the first films in history to use an IMAX camera as the main image-capturing device on a film set. In total, six sequences, or roughly 28 minutes of screen time, were shot using the camera. Eventually, other filmmakers followed suit. Terrence Malick's majestic The Tree of Life had select sequences shot in IMAX. Michael Bay, as characteristic of his oeuvre, hammed up its utilization in Transformers: The Last Knight. Nolan, not one to be outshone in his usage of the pioneering technology, racked up 72 and 79 minutes of IMAX sequences respectively in The Dark Knight Rises and Dunkirk. He continued to push the envelope in his most recent work, Oppenheimer by being the first movie to shoot certain sections in IMAX black and white.

Why Aren't More Filmmakers Using IMAX 70mm?

While remarkable in its projection, shooting films in IMAX is a completely different story. There are several qualms to it, and the most pressing is the logistics of its usage. First IMAX cameras are immensely expensive, costing around $500,000.00 a piece, a price tag Nolan is familiar with as he has broken three of them. Production companies, profit driven as they come, would not be able to see the value behind this. For them, it isn't a cost-efficient method of shooting.

If big companies don't see it as cost-efficient, independent filmmakers have no chance of using the technology as well, seeing that their whole budget might be taken up by the cinematography alone. Another concern is its noise. IMAX cameras are notoriously noisy, making a sound that's similar to a low-displacement motorcycle, which makes filming bits of dialogue difficult for the sound engineers. The loud cracking it produces comes from the high speed it operates, swiftly eating a 1000ft roll of film like it was peanuts. Taking all of these into consideration, it isn't hard to see why the majority of filmmakers do not opt to use the technology. For them, the cons far outweigh the pros, and is viewed as a format accessible only to those who have enough money and effort to burn.

Why Should More Filmmakers Use IMAX 70mm?

Despite all the logistical nightmares and physical baggage, IMAX should still be utilized more by filmmakers. Yes, the point is taken when talking about the accessibility of the technology. Even established auteurs such as Martin Scorsese experience difficulties seeking funding for their projects. However, this is where the efforts of Nolan come into play. With the success he has garnered in using IMAX, perhaps more would be interested in financing these prospective films. Oppenheimer's massive box office success is indicative of a market share waiting to be explored. If the story is interesting enough, and the audience sees that IMAX technology is fit for its narrative, they will come in droves. They aren't there to see a movie, they are there to experience the cinema as it should be.

More than the temptation of increased profits, filmmakers should be more open to shooting and projecting movies in IMAX if only for the interest of moving art forward. There are several films that come to mind that would have been simply breathtaking to see in a wider image. Could you imagine seeing a Wong Kar-wai romance in glorious 70mm, and basking in the sheer richness of its colors? Ever wonder what a David Fincher thriller would look and feel like in an IMAX theater, with the suspense almost waiting to come out of the screen and envelop its viewers? These are great what-ifs, but there is immense potential in the idea.

The history of movies has shown us that risks should always be taken in order for developments to materialize. When more filmmakers use IMAX, it will open new doors to further cinematic advancements. The more movies that are shot in this format come out, our curiosity will eventually and inevitably come up with something to push the boundaries. This isn't even a call to change the industry standard, not by a long shot. It may begin with using it sparingly, then discovering more about its intricacies, and finding ways to shoot certain sequences previously thought impossible with IMAX technology. It's like seeing a new species in the wild. First, you prod it with a stick, determine if it's safe, and then examine it until you find all the answers to your questions.

It is human nature. A time will come for more immersive technologies, but it will only arrive if the directors of our time use them more. There is an immense risk and even fear of using it. Should this be the case, they should look no further than the leap of faith Christopher Nolan has taken in using IMAX. He has offered his shoulders to be stood upon, and it is only imperative that the film community follow suit to further enhance the thing we love the most: the movies.'

#IMAX #Oppenheimer #Christopher Nolan #The Dark Knight #The Dark Knight Rises #Dunkirk

[emotionalcadaver]

Part 3: A Remedy for Sorrow

Fandom: Dunkirk

Pairing: Shivering Soldier x OC

Summary: Daisy and Henry spend some time growing reacquainted with one another.

Word Count: 4,777

Notes: Warnings for depictions of PTSD and self hatred, references to past cheating, and copious amounts of sexual tension. Henry Wilson is the name for the Shivering Soldier created by the lovely people over @henry-wilson.  

Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

Previous Part • Next Part    

Chapter 2: Nerves

He looked at the clock with a combination of excitement and dread as the hands inched closer and closer to nine o’clock. Glancing at himself anxiously in the mirror, nerves shot all to hell, he rubbed a hand self consciously over his jaw, trying to smooth back the long dark fringe that kept falling into his eyes. Daisy would be here soon to pick him up, he needed to look at least somewhat presentable. 

He’d slept for only a little over an hour the night before, the dark bags under his eyes prominent and dark. Not much that could be done about those, he supposed with a sigh, hands fluttering about to button up his shirt the rest of the way. Snagging a light jacket from the hook he'd deposited it on the night prior, he made his way downstairs, nodding politely to the little old lady who ran the inn on his way out the door.

Leaning up against the brick wall of the inn, he allowed the sun to soak into the thin fabric of his shirt, warming the skin underneath. He could hear the sounds of seagulls, probably at the docks nearby. The distinct scent of saltwater was familiar, yet at the same time caused his heart rate to spike with the memories of the last time he’d been close enough to the ocean to smell a mixture of the ocean and seaweed. Closing his eyes, he let his head fall back against the cold brick. At least the sunshine was nice.

His brain, so sensitive to even the slightest sounds ever since he’d gotten back home, picked up on the click of heels against the cobblestones before they’d even rounded the corner. Eyes cracking open, he straightened, smile tugging at his lips when Daisy appeared from around the corner. She had on a long plaid skirt and a white long sleeve shirt under a green vest. Her hair swung freely between her chin and her shoulders, hazel eyes glimmering brightly when she caught sight of him waiting for her. Clutched in one hand was the leash to a large husky with pale blue eyes, his tail wagging as he glanced up at Daisy.

“Hi,” she smiled at him, adjusting her grip on the dog’s leash.

“Hullo,” he glanced down at the dog who had begun nosing at his shoes, raising a hand to stroke his fur, then stopped, casting a questioning look to Daisy.

“Go on, it’s okay. He can be a bit standoffish sometimes, but he’s sweet,” she assured. “Ghost, say hello.”

The dog sniffed at his head curiously, then bumped it with his head in silent demand for pets. Henry chuckled, scratching him behind the ear.

“I hope you don’t mind that I brought him. I didn’t have a chance to take him for a walk yesterday, and now he’s got all this energy he needs to work off.”

“Not at all,” he grinned as Ghost licked at his hand. “Yeah, you’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

“Have you already eaten breakfast?”

“Erm, no, I haven’t,” he admitted, but Daisy just smiled.

“Me neither. There’s a nice cafe just this way,” she indicated with a jerk of her head. Her eyes sparkled, and his breath hitched in his chest. “We can start the tour there.”

Henry swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry. “Sounds like a plan.”

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“So that’s the market, the pharmacy, you already know where the library is…” Daisy verbally listed off the various places throughout town that she’d guided him through. It wasn’t a particularly complicated layout or anything, and he could have probably figured it all out on his own with relative ease, but he liked being close to Daisy, listening to her talk…her Welsh accent was musical and soft, like honey. 

They were walking along the road directly above the docks, and he was struck with the memory of standing there, in the dark, with a crowd of soldiers pushing past him towards the train station. He had looked out over the dark water, numbness where there should have been relief at finally having his feet on solid land again. And then he turned, and spotted the body, covered by a white sheet, being hauled out of the Moonstone on a stretcher. He glanced away before Peter Dawson could see him staring, going nearly limp as he let the crowd begin to push him towards the trains. It was only after he slumped into a seat, train whistle shrieking loudly and making him flinch, that his hands startled to tremble, and then he was curling his knees into his chest like a child, burying his face in them, chest heaving as he cried and cried and cried as it fully sunk in what he had done. He’d cried so hard he made himself physically ill, bending out the window to vomit as the train chugged onwards into the darkness.

“Henry?”

He realized that he’d come to a stop, just staring out at the boats docked at the pier and the ocean stretching out endlessly beyond them. Ghost whined, nudging at his legs with his nose, and his tail wagged as Henry reached down to pat him. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” she was standing so close to him her shoulder nearly brushed his. Looking out over the water, she sighed, scratching Ghost absentmindedly behind one ear. “You been out on the water since you got back?”

“No,” he admitted, rubbing at his neck.

“Does the ocean upset you now?”

He tilted his head, frowning. It hadn’t been something he’d thought all too hard about. “I don’t think so. Sometimes the smell of saltwater gives me flashbacks, I suppose. But the ocean itself doesn’t really bother me,” he cracked a small smile. “I’m not sure how I would feel being back on an actual boat.”

“I’ve only gone out once, with Peter and Mr. Dawson. It was alright. But we didn’t go out very far,” she pouted slightly. “Didn’t get to see any dolphins either.”

He chuckled at the memory of her cute little obsession. “You’ve already seen dolphins while out on the Moonstone.”

She shot him a playfully stern look. “But I want to see more.”

He laughed, leaning against the railing. The wind ruffled her hair, blowing it into her face, and with a sudden burst of courage that he didn’t know he had, he reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Feeling himself blush, he pulled away hastily, glancing back out towards the docks with nervous apprehension.  

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to force you to go down and see the Dawsons. I’m not even sure if they’re in today,” Daisy assured.

“Thank you,” he would probably have to face them both eventually, but not yet. He doubted that he would be able to emotionally handle that confrontation at the moment.

Daisy must have seen something on his face, because she cocked her head. “They really aren’t upset with you, I promise.”

He just grunted slightly in response, not really believing her. The look of hatred that Peter Dawson had shot in his direction shortly after the fight where George had fallen was seared into his brain like a brand. “Have you seen any of the others?” he asked, eager to change the subject.

“Others?”

“From the evacuation. I didn’t know if…any of the soldiers were from around here or had come back to visit…”

“A few live in the area, I think,” her thumb drummed against the railing. “Peter’s gotten close with Collins, I guess. They talk a lot. He visits when he can,” she glanced over at him. “You remember Collins? The pilot we fished out of the water?”

Oh, Henry remembered him alright. Remembered the way that his chest had burned with bitter jealousy as he watched Daisy laugh at something Collins said, at the way that everyone on the Moonstone seemed to look at the pilot with quiet awe. How he’d been up and about, helping whatever way he could on the boat while Henry could do little more than curl in a corner on the deck, trying with desperation to quell the shivering that had seized control over his limbs. “I remember,” he said in a quiet croak, eyes looking out at the rolling waves before them.

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“You’re sure that I won’t be in the way?” he asked as they stepped into the library, wide eyes glancing up at the towering stacks of books.

“I’m sure,” Daisy patted his arm, flashing him a small smile. She had been so worried about him being lonely while she was at work, she’d ended up just inviting him to tag along with her to the library. 

“Is there anything that I could do to help?” he asked, fidgeting as he watched her slide off her jacket and set her bag behind the front desk.

“Oh, you don’t have to if you don’t want to…”

“I’d like to stay busy,” he said simply. “If that’s alright.”

“Okay,” she shrugged, then beckoned him to follow her. She set him to work hauling piles of books back to their proper places on the shelves. He could carry considerably more at a time than her, and it freed her up to help patrons with checking out books and processing returns.

“Daisy,” she yelped as Cora suddenly grabbed her by the arm. “Who’s the guy helping reshelve books?”

“Oh, that’s Henry. He’s a…friend.”

Cora tilted her head, lips pressing into a small smile. “He’s handsome.”

She felt her cheeks warm. “Well…erm, I um…I suppose so. If…if…”

“If you have eyes?” Cora raised a teasing eyebrow. “How do you know him?”

“He was one of the soldiers on the Moonstone during the evacuation.”

“A soldier, hm?” Cora leaned back in her chair a little ways to continue watching Henry as he carried another impressive stack of books away. Daisy shifted uncomfortably, frowning at the way her co-worker was so obviously staring.   

“Stop ogling him,” she huffed, lightly kicking at Cora’s chair. She looked at Daisy in surprise, then smirked.

“I thought that you said he was just a friend.”

“It’s…look, it’s complicated, okay?” 

Cora looked her up and down, snorting as she stood to go help a kid find something. On her way she gave Daisy a little pat on the shoulder.

Sighing, she continued to riffle through the books in the return bin, fighting back the urge to pout. Her pen scratched against the paper as she made marks on the sheet in front of her, stacking the books carefully for Henry to scoop up and take away to their corresponding space. Cora returned a few moments later, collapsing into her seat with a sigh. Ruth swung behind the desk with a whirl of her skirt, having spent the earlier part of the day in the kids’ corner, reading to the children there.

“Who’s the hot new guy? He doesn’t seem to be the kind that Beryl usually hires,” Ruth asked Cora, eyes boring into Henry’s back as he walked away. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“He’s Daisy’s friend,” Cora said, shooting her a look when she put a great deal of emphasis on the word. She rolled her eyes at the two of them. 

“Well done, Daisy,” Ruth grinned, winking and patting her on the back.

“I really hate you both,” she grumbled into the ledger while the other two librarians laughed. “And technically he’s not working here, he’s just helping out.”

“You know if he does more than shelve books? I’ve got a leaky faucet at home that could use some fixing.”

“Maybe you should ask your husband,” she said, unable to fully keep the bitterness from her voice. Ruth laughed again and wrapped her arms around Daisy’s shoulders.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

“Uh huh.”

Ruth just snorted and ruffled at her hair, stalking off to go hush a few rowdy teens in the corner.

“If you like him so much, you should just ask him out,” Cora said, snagging her reading glasses from where they’d been hanging from her shirt and sliding them on. Swinging back and forth in her chair, Daisy bit her lip, glancing back towards the shelves to ensure that Henry wasn’t close enough to hear.

“I don’t know…”

“Why not?”

“He’s been through a lot recently, Cora. I don’t want to…I dunno…pressure him into anything that he isn’t ready for.”

“Well, he really seems to like you,” Cora shrugged. 

“No, I don’t think…” she trailed off, fidgeting under Cora’s shrewd gaze.

“I don’t think that a guy would travel all the way down here and spend all day shelving books just to spend time with you, if he wasn’t at least a little bit interested,” Cora gave a small shrug. “Just my way of looking at things. But if you want him, you better move fast. Handsome man like that, it won’t be long before someone decides to snap him up.”

Daisy sighed, raising a hand to rub at her temple. “You really think so?”

Cora chuckled, standing smoothly from her seat and patting her on the shoulder, not saying another word. Leaving Daisy alone to stare off into space, biting her lip and frowning at nothing.

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“Can I ask you something?” she said as they walked home. The moon was shining down in a silver sliver from the sky, wind chilly without the warmth of the sun to offset it.

“Sure,” Henry raised a curious eyebrow. Daisy bit her lip.

“Why did you come back here?”

He hesitated, looking taken aback.

“I’m glad that you did,” she added quickly, before he could get the wrong idea of what she meant. “It’s just…I imagine that this place doesn’t have a lot of great memories for you.”

“I wanted to see you,” he admitted without looking at her, then sighed. “You were…the only good part of that entire experience at Dunkirk…” he trailed off, frowned. “You saw what it was like, out there. You know, or you know better than most, I guess, what we went through. I just…” he squeezed his eyes shut, voice breaking. “I wanted to be around someone who understood.”

Without speaking, she reached out to lightly brush her fingertips against his arm. Henry opened his eyes, the shade of blue almost knocking her off balance.

“I don’t want you to think that I expect you to fix me, or anything like that,” he drew in a deep, shaking breath. “I like you,” he said, and her heart leapt joyfully into her throat.

“I like you too,” she was tempted to reach out for him, but he still seemed so skittish. The last thing she wanted to do was spook him.

The look he gave her was sad, leaving her heart to begin to sink low into her chest.

“But I don’t think that I can give you more than this,” his voice was quiet and regretful, and in his eyes she saw a million thoughts flash by. “At least not right now. My head is…is a mess,” he looked at her with round, sad eyes. “I need time.”   

“That’s okay,” she swallowed her disappointment. “I don’t expect anything from you. I’m happy you’re here and I’d like to spend more time with you,” she smiled gently. “I would like to be friends.”

“I’d like that,” he swallowed hard. “And I don’t…expect for you to wait around for me, or-or anything like that–”

“I don’t mind.”

“Still, I don’t want you to feel like you have to,” he looked down, shuffling his feet anxiously. Daisy rested her hand on his shoulder, thumb stroking over the rough material of his jacket until he looked up at her. She gave him a tiny smile.

“It’s okay. I’m here, if you need me. And we can talk about any of it as much or as little as you’d like.”

“Thank you,” he touched her hand. “Thank you,” his head ducked down for a moment, and when he looked back up, his eyes were glistening. “I’m sorry.”

“God, no, don’t apologize. It’s okay, really.”

“The same all goes for you too, you know? If you ever need anything, I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you,” they’d gotten to her door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

Before she could think better of it, she wrapped her arms around his ribs in a tight hug. He stiffened up for only a moment before relaxing, arms wrapping around her to squeeze her back. He felt strong and warm. “I really am glad that you’re here, Henry.”

“Me too.”

She let him go, reluctantly. “Good-night.”

“Good-night.”

∗ ∗ ∗ 

Henry sat on the edge of the bed, bare chest heaving as his lungs battled to suck in air. To remind himself that he wasn’t drowning in the bowels of a sinking ship. He was on dry land. He was safe.

Running a hand through his sweat soaked hair, he sighed with a heaviness that left him shivering. Still taking in measured, deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself, he laid down slowly, dejectedly, before tugging the blankets back up around himself.

They did little to help stop the shaking.

He laid there alone in the dark, just staring at the ceiling, one arm curled across his stomach while the other laid on his brow. The inn creaked and groaned a little with the wind, the sound not unlike the groans of a ship below deck.

Maybe he should have accepted Daisy’s offer to stay in her spare room.

He considered it for a moment, then shook his head. No, no. The distance between them was necessary. The last thing he wanted to do was keep her up all night with his screaming and crying in his sleep. She’d want to stay up with him, too. When he couldn’t sleep. He wouldn’t burden her with that.

Besides, the closer he was to her, the more likely he was to slip up, to give in. How long would it take, with both of them sleeping under the same roof, for one of them to patter quietly down the hall, slip easily into the other’s room…

No.

He wouldn’t let her waste herself and her huge heart on him. She deserved someone better. Someone unbroken. And that definitely wasn’t him.

He’d felt terrible, telling her that he couldn’t offer her anything more than friendship at the moment, seeing the tiny crack of sadness that entered her eyes at his words. And she’d looked so pretty in the moonlight. All big eyes and round cheeks, dark hair framing her face. But he’d needed to do it. Already, he felt that he’d taken far too much from her by simply being there in Weymouth, by hoping for her friendship.   

But god, did he want her. All soft curves and dimpled smile and plump lips. Had he not been such a goddamn coward, he could have gripped her by the hips out there in the evening air, pulled her close until his mouth slanted over hers, holding her smaller body closely to his chest…

With a whine, he turned onto his side, sinking more miserably into the mattress, closing his eyes in a vain attempt to try to gain a few more hours of sleep.

He gave up by the time the sun was just breaking over the horizon.

∗ ∗ ∗ 

Good god, how the hell did he get himself into this?

A memory of Daisy’s big, hopeful hazel eyes staring up at him, sparkling excitedly, flashed across his mind.

Okay, fine, he knew exactly how he’d gotten himself into this situation.

Dumbass. He really didn’t know what was wrong with him. He just couldn’t bring himself to say no to her. Not when she looked at him like that. And certainly not when his agreement had been met with a blinding, dimpled smile, pink lips pressing a kiss into his cheek.

She did that a lot.

It was nice, spending time with Daisy. She showed him around town, helped him get acquainted with a few people, and being around her helped him to get out of his own head for a little bit. The self doubt and hatred was still there, for sure, guilt and terror so powerful there were times he thought it might strangle him, but around her it was dulled. Not so potent. Though he did still agonize over the possibility of becoming a burden to her. Of further damaging her life. But she always seemed genuinely so excited and happy to spend time with him, cheeks dimpling with her smile whenever she spotted him approaching her, or opened her front door to reveal him standing there. So he must be doing something right.

It was cold inside the ice rink. Daisy said that in the winter, they allowed ice skating on the lake near the center of town once it had frozen solid. But it was still too early in the season for that, so she’d instead dragged him to the inside ice skating rink near the marketplace. She had her own skates, but he had to rent out his. And she’d unlooped her knitted scarf that he suspected she’d probably made herself around his neck with a fond smile. It smelled faintly of her perfume, flowery and sweet. Despite the chill in the air, the jacket he was wearing and the scarf kept him warm enough that he wasn’t uncomfortable.

Or not uncomfortable from the cold, at least.

His hands clung desperately to the side of the ice rink as he huffed, cheeks flushing with self consciousness at the way that he wobbled precariously on the skates. 

He loved watching Daisy skate. The way that she flew gracefully across the ice, body bending in near incomprehensible ways. He would have been more than happy to have lingered outside of the rink and just watched her. But when she had looked up at him with those big, pleading eyes and pouty lips…he probably would have dove off the edge of a cliff if she’d asked him to. 

“See? It’s not so bad,” to her credit, Daisy had hovered close to him, not leaving him to brave the ice alone. She twirled, skating literal circles around him as she grinned.

“Show off,” he said as she raised one leg up high into the air, bending backwards until her forehead nearly bumped against the raised blade of the skate. He swallowed hard, making a valiant effort not to ogle her. Or think about how flexible she was…

She giggled, suddenly gliding a few more feet away from him as she brought her raised foot back down onto the ice.

“Dais-” he yelped a bit in alarm, reaching out for her desperately. She laughed, spinning expertly on the skates on one foot–really, she made it look so damn easy–before gliding back to him.

“Are you having some trouble, there?”

He shot her a glare that had no real anger behind it as he clung to the edge of the rink. 

“You’re cruel,” he complained. Daisy snickered, hands reaching out to grasp his arms with surprising strength.

“Aw, love, I’m sorry,” her eyes continued to regard him with amusement. At least one of them was having fun. She was often calling him that. Love. It made his heart skip.

“Uh huh,” he pouted. Daisy just laughed again, tugging him away from the edge and towards the center of the rink. Henry shot her a panicked look.

“I’ve got you,” she assured, gliding backwards as she allowed him to cling to her arms for balance. 

“If I fall and crack my head open, it’s your fault.”

She just chuckled, shaking her head. It took a few more minutes until he felt comfortable and stable enough for her to just hold his hand, skating beside him with ease. He was still somewhat wobbly, but at least he was confident enough that he wasn’t going to faceplant into the ice.

“This is nice,” he admitted. There were only a few other people on the ice rink, leaving them to enjoy their own quiet little bubble of peacefulness without having to worry about any rogue skaters smashing into them. Daisy poked his shoulder.

“Told you.”

He yelped when she suddenly swung around so that she was facing him and skating backwards again, her arms winding around his ribs as she hugged him. Hands grasping at her shoulders with fright, he gaped at her.

“You realize if I fall, I’m taking you with me, right?”

“You won’t fall,” she said with far more confidence than he had. A frown formed on his lips as her head rested on his chest, a noticeable shiver wracking through her small body. Arms wrapping around her waist, he squeezed at her hip.

“Are you cold?”

“No,” her lips pursed stubbornly.

“You’re shivering.”

“I’m okay.”

“You know, I think I saw that they were selling hot chocolate at the shop just next door,” he said as nonchalantly as he could manage. 

“…I’m listening.”

He chuckled. “Come on. Let’s get you warmed up.”

She had to help him get back to the edge of the rink, waiting patiently by the doors while he returned his skates before they headed to the cafe next door. Sitting in a secluded corner, hands cupped around the warm mugs they’d been served, Henry wondered at how relaxed he felt. Like a wave of sudden comfort had washed over him.

“Thanks for indulging me,” Daisy said, a tad sheepishly, sipping at her cocoa.

“It was fun,” he conceded, looking down at his mug before he could get too lost in her smile. Daisy practically exuded warmth, so bright and sweet that he wanted to just stretch out and bask in it. “Next time, I’ll take you dancing. I’m much more graceful on non-slippery ground.”

Her smile cracked slightly, looking away. “I’m afraid that I don’t really dance.”

His brows flew up. “What do you mean, you ‘don’t dance?’” he asked. Daisy shrugged. “You are aware that dancing isn’t that different from ice skating, right? If anything, I’d say it’s considerably easier.”

She sighed. “The last time I went dancing was at prom when I went with my boyfriend and I kept stepping on his toes until he yelled at me and I ended up crying behind the punch bowl while he danced with my best friend instead.”

Henry blinked. It was hard to imagine that anyone could be so cruel as to yell at someone as sweet and gentle as Daisy. “I promise I won’t yell at you if you step on my toes.”

Glancing at him half through her dark eyelashes, she pressed her lips together in a failed attempt to suppress her smile. “Really?”

“Really.”

She cocked her head a little. “Alright, then. You can take me this weekend.”

He took another sip of his drink. “Your boyfriend sounds like he was a real arsehole,” he said it cautiously, trying to feel out how she actually felt about the guy. Daisy sighed, setting down her mug to instead nibble on the scone she’s ordered with her drink.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“Well now I’m curious.”

“It’s not a particularly remarkable story,” Daisy said. “Adam and I dated through most of high school. Mum and everyone all expected that we’d get married soon after graduation. He kept badgering me about it, but I kept putting it off,” her brows furrowed. “Turns out he was sneaking around with my best friend the entire time. I only found out because the idiot knocked her up. And then they got married like a week after Adam and I broke up.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “Like I said, he was an idiot. In the end, he and Claudia probably deserved each other.”  

“They shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“No,” she set the remainder of her scone down. “They shouldn’t have. But at least I got away. She’s stuck with him for the rest of her life.”

“Are they still in Newport?”

“As far as I know. Just another reason for me not to go back there, right?” she gave him a small smile, but there was a melancholic edge to it. He greatly suspected that the whole situation had hurt her far more than she was letting on. Gripped with a sudden desire to comfort, he reached tentatively across the table to touch the back of her hand with his fingertips. She looked down at his hand with interest, and after a moment, turned her palm over so that their fingers could thread together.

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