#whether his sad victorian cloud… on the Last Day… or on the day he was finally able to say Rivers name. he thought it would hurt too much

[seaweedstarshine]

Thinking about the convolution of Eleventh Doctor's expressions of love for River Song in Season 7B. He does not trust Clara. He is utterly (wrongly) convinced that he and Clara are playing a grand manipulative game together. “What are you, eh?! A trick? A trap?!!”

So naturally, the last thing he should do in this game is to clue his opponent in on something that could be used to hurt him. Something like River, so painfully near the end of their time together, whose data ghost he can always see, who “it would hurt too much” to acknowledge. He can't let Clara know of the loss which constantly floods his senses; (“You are always here to me. And I always listen, and I can always see you,” he professes, once Clara has vanished into his timestream).

And yet. River fills his every moment (irregardless of any sneaking out for dates with increasingly-young Rivers while Clara is asleep like he did while the Ponds slept, which would explain his absence when the TARDIS is hiding Clara's bedroom). Even though it's not strategic, he can’t help but tell Clara about her. The best defense he can manage is to phrase it as if River isn’t as important to him as she is. Not only is avoiding her first name in his grief; he's also completely avoiding pronouns; which seems extreme given that he's still mentioning her as often as: “Oh yeah, of course he has! Professor Song! Sorry, it's just I never realized you were a woman.”

Leave out the emotion — leave out the details — don't show the cracks in the armor — play the part — win the game.

“Well, there's no point now. We're about to die. JUST TELL ME WHO YOU ARE.”

[imaginingmoonlight]

Hastie Lanyon was a Dead Man: a Lanyon/Jekyll oneshot

Word count: 1485

Notes:

Guess who’s been fixating on silly Victorian men? ME! Yeah I had fun with this. I’m so sorry it will get a bit angsty. This is up on ao3! My account is under the same name as here :) Warning: major character death.

Hastie Lanyon was a dead man. These shaking gulps of air, these slow and rhythmic heartbeats would be his very last. He could feel it- his life slipping through his fingers like water off a duck's back. It would be gone soon, gone like the sunlight slipping into the horizon or clouds whisked away by the wind. Would anyone care? Would anyone notice? Would anyone miss him once he was gone? Utterson, perhaps. He was a good chap. Loyal, he was, albeit a little dull. Hastie had always considered the lawyer to be one of his closest friends, whether the feeling was reciprocated or not. He had even visited a day ago, the very second he had heard of the illness. That was hard. Oh so hard. To know you were dying? That was one story. To admit it aloud? That was another story entirely. Lanyon remembered how the tears had stabbed at his eyes, how his chest had tightened, how his hands trembled with fear. Utterson was patient, sympathetic, even a little teary himself. But when he had mentioned Jekyll...

Jekyll.

Where would he be now? Was he even Jekyll anymore? No doubt, that Hyde character had probably taken over completely now. Lanyon was considerably more upset at the thought than he should have been. He hated the man, don't get him wrong. The very thought of him made his blood boil and his skin crawl with an army of spiders. Yet... the thought also made his heart swell. A swell of memories, joy, happiness, love . Jekyll, before his downfall, had been much more than a friend. Much, much more. "Just a friend" wouldn't stay up until first light drinking wine and talking about their deepest, darkest secrets. "Just a friend" wouldn't brush their knuckles against yours while walking just a little too often to be accidental. "Just a friend" wouldn't share a kiss, soft and tender, with you in a moonlit study. No, Jekyll was not a friend, not by a long shot.

When was the last time he had seen him, before the incident? Well, it must have been winter, at least 9 or 10 years ago. They were much younger, of course. Reckless. The two were in Jekyll's house, sat huddled together in the same armchair. It was cold outside, deathly cold, yet they were heated by the hearth both in the centre of the room and the ones hidden in their hearts. It was silent, but a comfortable silent. Silent like the calm right after a storm. Silent like the early morning. Words were whispered, lingering on steady breaths and gentle gazes. It was a perfect night. Until it wasn't.

"Hastie?" Jekyll's voice had a shaken quality behind it, the usual sweetness cracking. Immediately, Lanyon could tell something was wrong.

"Yes, dear?" He had replied, pretending to be none the wiser while the worry gripped his gut like a vice.

"Do you ever think about... You know,"

"No, I don't know. Go on?"

"Running away?" The words could barely be heard as they escaped his lips. Lanyon had been taken aback. What were you supposed to say to that? What could he possibly answer?

"Well, no, not really." Why would he? Life here was perfect. He had a blossoming career. He had a blossoming love. What more could he ask for? What more could he want?

"Not really? Not once?"

"I have no reason to. I have everything I need right here." He leaned over to rest his head on his partner's shoulder, fighting to keep his tired eyes open. Jekyll had smiled, genuine and warm, but there had been a slight sadness hiding at the very corners of his mouth.

"Of course. Of course. But what about freedom? What about the liberty to be ourselves out on the streets? We have to hide from the public eye every day, Hastie. Why should we? Why should we have to cater to a world that looks down on us?" Oh. Lanyon looked down at his feet, shoes still on from a day working.

"Because that's life, Henry. Not everyone will accept us and that's okay."

"How can you be okay with hiding this? Surely you can't bear to live the rest of your life hiding a secret? Hiding the most beautiful truth to exist?"

"Henry, we can't just leave. That's absurd."

"But is it?"

"Yes, it is." Lanyon sat up straight, gaze hardening ever so slightly. It was enough for Jekyll to see, though; he recoiled a little, flinching with a grimace. "What about our jobs, Henry? What about our lives?"

"Hastie, you are my life!"

"Then why isn't this enough? Why do you want more?"

"You know why. I may have you but we'd still be shunned if we so much as linked arms in public. Is that the life you want to live?"

“I-“ the words wouldn’t come out.

“So come with me!”

“…I can’t.” He choked the sounds out, barely a whisper. “I can’t just leave my life’s work.”

Jekyll shook his head. The disappointment and anger and hurt grew in his eyes, a distant inferno swirling in his irises.

“Henry, I’m so sorry-“

“No. It’s fine.”

And with that, Henry Jekyll had strode out the door.

It would be years until he heard from Jekyll again. It had gotten worse over time. It turns out time doesn’t bring fondness; like a grape in a barrel, it brings bitterness and sucks the sweetness out. Lanyon could barely take hearing Jekyll’s name in public again. Ever since he’d left, the man had completely thrown himself into his work. Immoral work. The devil’s work. Utter scientific balderdash. This didn’t really bother Lanyon too much, of course, but at least he had an excuse to publicly hate the scientist. No one had to know about their… past relations.

But oh, how he missed him desperately.

One can forgive. One can move past. But one can never forget. And god, he’d never forget those nights, just the two of them, spilling secrets like water through open fingers and sharing sweet, lovesick looks lit by candlelight. They were the best nights of his life. And they were gone now.

At least, that’s what Lanyon thought. Then came that December night. The night was suffocating, a thick fog laying over the city like a distasteful throw. A thick air of mystery loitered. That mystery only built when a letter was delivered to his door. A letter from none other than Henry Jekyll.

So eagerly had Lanyon sliced open the envelope and delved in. So quickly had his heart skipped a beat or two.

“Dear Lanyon, You are one of my oldest friends; and although we may have differed at times on scientific questions, I cannot remember, at least on my side, any break in our affection. There was never a day when, if you had said to me, ‘Jekyll, my life, my honour, my reason, depend upon you,’ I would not have sacrificed my left hand to help you. Lanyon, my life, my honour my reason…”

Lanyon had hardly been able to read the rest with a clear head. His life. His honour. His reason. Did he really still mean that much to him after everything that had happened? So of course, without a doubt in his mind, Lanyon followed the cryptic, quite possibly dangerous instructions detailed.

He so desperately wished he hadn’t.

He had driven straight to Jekyll’s house, despite every ounce of reason screaming at him from his core. He met with Poole, got the drawer and went straight back to Cavendish Square. Even when that strange little man- Mr Hyde- had shown up, he still pushed aside any doubts and focused on the task at hand: saving Jekyll’s life. However that may be. It was all so confusing.

He hadn’t expected Mr Hyde, after promptly taking that potion, to transform into Jekyll. It was horrific. Such horrors he had never seen before. Every time he shut his eyes, all he could see was the way that man’s features had grotesquely contorted, agonisingly slow, into the face that once brought him the most comfort in his life. He felt no comfort then. Just fear. Pure fear, raw and acidic in his stomach. It had scared him half to death. Quite literally. Now look at him. He was laying on his death bed, slowly fading away. Wasted. Lost. Soon he would be gone forever. He had so many regrets. He should have just ran away with Jekyll when he had the chance. Maybe then the man never would have turned to such horrific experiments.

"Jekyll? If you can hear me-" his words sounded so pathetic, so weak, hanging limp in the air of his room.

His answer was silence. Still, he continued.

" I love you."

And just like that, a lantern flickering to darkness, Hastie Lanyon was well and truly a dead man.

[luna-the-moth]

Tainted Elysium(SFW)

Hello dear! Ohoho, I love this prompt, you have no idea! I’m so sorry if you wanted this in hc/scenario form, but the story potential for this was just Screaming at me- Also, this follows my hc that the Celestial Realm is corrupt (Pointedly looks at the angel event)

As the request says, there will be a character death.

Word count: 1.7k

Reblogs, likes, and comments are lovely to see!

Satan with a Reincarnated Angel! Reader. SFW! With a GN! reader.

Requests are open, but please read my rules and guidelines before reading!

~~~~~~~~~~~

How could this happen?

Falling onto his knees, Satan watched, helpless as your limp body sat lifelessly in the pentagram. Your eyes were wide, shock still ever-present on your features, a last reminder of your death.

He brought himself onto his feet, kneeling beside you, tears dripping onto your cold, lifeless skin. Your body was still warm, although your face had been drained of any remaining sign of life, similar to a mannequin.

This isn’t how he planned things to go, no- You were supposed to become immortal through the ritual, not die. Solomon had said this was one of the safest routes to immortality.

Mind spiraling, Satan gripped his head between his hands, trying to grasp any last shreds of his control. He couldn’t lose is composure. No, he had worked too hard to repress himself, he can’t lose it now.

“Perfect, the ritual has been completed and seems to be successful. Now we just need to wait.” Solomon mused smugly, pleased with his work.

Snapping his head to the sorcerer, Satan’s eyes held a sea of emotions. Disbelief, shock, betrayal, and wrath. Pure, unpolished wrath, in it’s rawest, most carnal form.

“Successful? Successful? They just died, and you say the ritual has been successful? You had sworn that they would become immortal, Solomon.”

His facade was crumbling down as he spoke flames of green and black peeking between his form, the demonic form he despised was coming loose. With a roar, his body expanded, clothes being torn to shreds as an equestrian form stood proudly where a demon once stood.

Charging at the sorcerer, Satan’s jaw opened, a maelstrom of green flames bursting from his mouth, swirling in a cyclone of hellish fire. After that, Satan’s mind blacked out, completely losing control over his grief.

All that he could remember, was the body of his lover fading into white butterflies behind the sorcerer, a white glow taking over your body.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Satan doesn’t remember how long it’s been since you’ve died.

Don’t get him wrong, he isn’t going to be completely hung up in mourning for  your death as long as he lives, but there are times he’ll see pieces of you. Those are the moments the grief will come rushing back.

In certain lines of poetry, ones you had always asked him to read at night.

The cat cafe in the human world, where you would always end up taking dozens of pictures of him, letting him unabashedly show his adoration for the creatures.

But the memory that hurt most of all, was your wit, charm, and intelligence. Smiling, he fondly remembered the way your eyes would gleam when discussing flower symbolism, or demonic history you had learned of in the human world.

You would ramble on for hours, passionate and lively, something Satan greatly admired. You were unapologetically yourself around him, no mask, and no tricks to convince him of otherwise.

Now, he would stop by your gradually crumbling tombstone every year, placing a bouquet of flowers on your grave, along with a bundle of cherry blossoms. They were one of your favorites, and he smiled as he reminisced about your love of the aromatic flora.

However, today was different. Your grave wasn’t there, instead, an angel. Near your gravestone, was an angel, bathed in a heavenly glow, halo shining brightly. Beside the angel, was a young child, a mortal soul, recently deceased.

As the little boy grabbed your hand, Satan’s eyes widened, seeing your face. Nearly dropping the bouquet, he softly placed a hand over his mouth, disbelief and shock clouding his mind.

So this is what Solomon had meant by immortal. You really were immortal, but not in the way he had thought.

Seeing you in silver armor, white cape flowing down your back, it was almost surreal. Your eyes had taken on a white ring, glowing around your irises, brighter than the stars themselves.

Satan hadn’t spent much time in the Celestial Realm, besides the time he had been a part of Lucifer’s subconscious. There had been scriptures in the human world of beautiful, ethereal angels, along with their interpretations of their true forms.

Yet in Satan’s eyes, angels were repulsive creatures. Arrogant, with a twisted sense of justice. Blindingly bright, they were merely demons, masquerading themselves as helpers, and merciful beings. Pathetic excuses for angels.

Seeing his lover become an angel? It made his blood boil. They had taken you, and tainted you. Bleaching you with their morals, molding you into another animatronic being, just another slave to their sick minds

Stepping forward, Satan took a leap of faith to see if you recognized him, and whether or not you would attack him. If there was a shred of you left, even a flicker of memory, there was a chance he could help you see the truth.

However, when within a few steps of approaching, you whirled around, eyes blazing. With a flash of light, you drew out a spear, immediately lunging toward him, blade tilting his chin up.

“Hello Y/n, it’s a pleasure to see you again, my dear.”

Leering, you asked,

“What business do you have with me, Angel of Mercy, wretched demon? Have you come to taint this child? To take him, turning his soul into a meal? Or perhaps, a lessor demon?”

At hearing this statement, the child took on an expression of pure fear, immediately flashing away, the ghostly apparition of his soul disappearing. Perhaps another angel would find him again, or a hungry demon.

With nothing but pure disgust and scorn in your eyes, Satan couldn’t help but bark out a bitter laugh. So this is what they’ve done to you? Modeled you after the archangel Raphael, ever so eloquent and haughty. It’s almost as if the heavens were laughing at him as they had altered you.

Fate really is a cruel mistress, isn’t she? Hasn’t he suffered enough, a demon of Wrath? Cast out even among his own brethren, the only true demon amongst fallen angels.

As you glowered down at him, spear nearly piercing his throat, Satan chuckled. How ironic, that his lover would be reformed into a being that Satan loathed, and one who despised him in return.

Of course not, the heavens would always scorn him, and take whatever they could from him. Twisting them into their vision of perfection, mindless slaves with no free will.

Being reincarnated to an angel of mercy as well, added insult to the injury. Your gaze was hardened in a burning hatred. To you, he was nothing but a mere demon, a being of sin, who deserves to be cast out as scum.

Shock evident across your face, your eyes flashed in suspicion as Satan didn’t show signs of hostility, nor wanting to retaliate. But demons were known to be charming and deceptive, especially the Avatars.

Looking at you with mournful, tired eyes, Satan had nearly given up on bringing you back. And now, you were here in front of him. Yet you didn’t even remember his name. A sad smile making it’s way across his features, he couldn’t help but think.

After all he’s done for himself, and to distance himself from his sin; Fate still frowned on him. Born from wrath, forever seen as an uncontrollable beast, no matter how he painted himself, he would always be struck down, time and time again.

You couldn’t help but feel an odd familiarity within those forest green eyes, and carefully lowered your spear, suspicion morphing into curiosity. Why had that name sounded so familiar?

How could a demon be anything other than the vile creatures told about in the Celestial Realm, filthy and deceptive?

However, you had assumed it was him influencing your mind, when in reality, it was quite different. With a burst of light, the spear disappeared from sight, although you were still in a cautious stance, ready to summon it again.

Deciding to make a leap of faith, Satan carefully presented you the bouquet of flowers he had brought with him. Presenting them to you in a non-threatening manner, lest you point your spear at him again.

This year’s bouquet was different; a new arrangement, one that conveyed his yearning, love, and heartbreak. You had loved Victorian flower symbolism, so he saw these as apt choices for flowers. These flowers consisted of:

Pink camellias (Longing for you), red carnations (Alas for my poor heart, my heart aches), pink carnations (I’ll never forget you), red chrysanthemums (I love you),  columbines (Foolishness, folly), gladiolus (Remembrance), and hydrangeas (Gratitude for being understood; frigidity and heartlessness). Accepting these wouldn’t mean you would automatically fall in love again. Hell, you didn’t even have to be friends at the end of the day. Did he expect you to take it and eventually change your mind? No.

But perhaps if you saw the darker side of things, you would have a different perspective on demons and angels. What Satan wanted, was for you to see the truth. The truth about who you were before, and what’s happened to you.

Taking a step back, you stiffen. Unconsciously clenching your hands, swarms of doubt cloud your mind. Was this some sort of trick? Perhaps a plan to sweep you away, an attempt to seduce you?

However, looking at his eyes, you couldn’t deny the genuine tenderness those emerald orbs shone. Your instincts and thoughts clashed against one another, and time seemed to freeze, the two of you stuck in an eternal will-they-won’t-they.

Throughout your exchange with the Avatar, you had been wondering why a demon of his rank would care so much for a human, and felt an odd curiosity about him.

It didn’t make sense, as the dead human’s soul would be in the Devildom or Celestial Realm by now. Why would he bother visiting a soulless grave, with no benefits to reap?

In a decision made of curiosity and unknown futures, you let out a shaky breath. Extending a trembling hand, you gently wrapped your fingers around the bouquet; Quickly bringing it to your chest as your finger brushed Satan’s.

No fireworks appeared, nor did you kiss under the light of day. You didn’t fully believe Satan, and the demon in question was still in shock, finding out about your existence. Your prejudices weren’t magically wiped away; Neither was Satan’s grief.

But it was a start.

[sebbybooks]

Our Vintage Summers

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction

"Damn me to hell

or take me to heaven,

but for God's sake do it now."

-n.r

~come back to me.~

Bare feet tucked away in the sand as my head tilted north of the Atlantic Ocean, I soaked up the warmth from the sunlight as it kissed me all over my face. My eyes were closed as I breathed in the evocative scent of the near sea breeze. I attentively listened to the soft symphony of waves crash back down in a rhythmic pattern. The salty crisp air permeated under my nose filling my bloodstream with great sorrow. It felt as though I was longing to be taken back to a good memory. Despite the island of Nantucket being a piece of my childhood for some unknown reason those memories felt like just an illusion. Almost as if it was only a fever dream.

"I can not believe Nana Florence left that huge ass estate all to you." My older sister Anya gaped. The disbelief echoed in her voiced woke me from my own state of disorient. Opening my eyes I slipped on a pair of shades and adverted my gaze away from the sun and looked out at the lighthouse in the distant. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, but still I knew a storm was brewing out there.

"I wasn't quite sure she even liked me. She was always so cold." I answered, still shocked by what I had just been given.

"She was a mean old bitch Sia. You can say it." Swallowing back her glass of bottle cream soda, Anya paused and stared off like she was trying to spot something that she had lost. "Besides it's not like she's gonna come out and haunt us. . . that would require her to care." Her tone was laced with sadness whether she would admit to it or not.

What feels like nearly a lifetime ago our parents would send us away to stay with our grandmother while they coasted around the globe every summer existing as if their children did not. Anya and I were left spending two months with a grandmother who acted as though we were unwanted guest who had to earn their keep. My older sister by just two years whose outspoken personality got her into more trouble than I care to even remember. Whereas I was always the meekly grandchild petrified of stepping out of line. What I got in return when she looked at me was annoyance like I was a stone in her shoe.

I couldn't do anything right in her eyes despite my efforts. That woman had an air about herself that exuded an unexplainable amount of bitterness I never even knew where it stemmed from. When it was finally time to return home I prayed and gave thanks to whoever was listening for freeing me from that house. Which is why I found it to be a complete and utter mind fuck that she left it all to me.

"I'm just surprised she actually wrote any of us in her will after not hearing from her in nearly fifteen years." Anya quickly jumped to her feet waving one arm in the arm in the air until the people she was flagging down finally caught ahold of her attention. Leading the way was her husband Gavin, and twins Remi and Justin who we have known since coming here as teens. Squealing and jumping into his arms like she hadn't seen her husband in months. Anya wrapped herself around Gavin and I had to turn my eyes away from their borderline pornographic kiss.

Plopping down next to me on the beach towel that was just about covered in sand was Remi. The Nguyen's use to own the beach home next door to my grandmother's and long ago I was thankful for their presence. For years Justin and Remi were the only bit of solace Anya and I had during those summers. Granted Anya had to teach me how to sneak out of the house I was always terrible at it every time. I threw all caution to the wind, because I would've done any an everything to get out that soulless house. There was something about it that made chills creep up my spine whenever I stepped through the door. To make it even creepier I'm pretty sure on one Fourth of July I could have sworn I saw her looking out of her window as the four us raced to get down to the beach.

"So I see after three years of marriage the honeymoon phase has not quite ended." Remi's glossy short black hair blew around her face before cascading back down in a stylish slanted bob. She was sitting so close to me I was smelling the fragrant scent of sweet mirabelle plums and jasmine. After knowing her for thirteen years I was starting to think it was just Remi's natural scent. At least one thing didn't change.

"I'm not sure if it's cute or sickening." When I looked back over at them Gavin had a death grip on Anya's ass.

"Are they always so..." Remi cocked her head to the side peering up at the two of them like she was viewing an anomaly.

"Clingy?" I chimed in.

Remi shook her head in disagreement. "Horny?" There was a moment of silence while we contemplated over the two of them before suddenly breaking out into a fit of laughter.

"Why don't you guys do us all a favor and get a room before you're arrested for public indecency." Justin said what we all were thinking as he fished a drink out from the cooler, and sat across from Remi and I in the sand. Finishing off his can of beer in one go, Justin peered into my eyes as he downed every last drop. I wasn't blind or immune to his good looks. His chiseled jaw and athletes body could make anyone swoon. There was alway this unspoken attraction that we shared ever since we were younger. It all sort of just went downhill the morning after my birthday during my very last summer spent in Nantucket. I remember it well, because it was the day I gave him my virginity while at the same time he wanted to give me his heart. At the time on paper he was the perfect guy. Smart, funny, loyal, Justin could charm his way through a nunnery if he wanted to. So in the end why the hell did I turn him down?

Tossing the crushed up can back into the mini cooler buried in the sand. I noticed the warm smile that reaches Justin's chestnut brown eyes transform into a triumphant smirk. I was busted. I pressed my sunglasses closer to my eyes somehow thinking it would shield me from my embarrassment. I was at least grateful that our friendship stood the test of time. Throughout the years he always described me as being a bolt of lightning. An untamable force of nature that was strikingly beautiful to the naked eye, but if I let someone close enough to touch me I'd leave them scorched and in pieces. The only reason I never took it as an insult because the answer was simple. . . he was right.

After two failed long term relationships I was starting to sense a pattern at my own creation. The men I dated always loved me more that I could love them. It wasn't like I was opposed to romance, happiness and the other sappy shit that follows.

Eventually it all just boiled down to my inability to love them as much as they loved me. I couldn't fully give myself over to my exes because I knew deep down they weren't him. Now I didn't know who this guy was. A figment of my imagination maybe? All that I knew about him was that he clearly only existed in the back of my mind. There was a voice in my head guiding me along the way telling me to just wait and the one I was waiting on will be there. I couldn't explain this feeling to anyone else even if I tried.

Sliding down from Gavin like he was a pole Anya pulled on his arm as she sauntered closer to the rest of us. "I mean we could considering little sis has eight unoccupied bedrooms behind us." Gavin boasted.

"Your wife's grandmother just passed away and you're already talking about having sex in the house she died in?" Justin's eyebrows bunched in confusion.

"She didn't die in the house man." He muses. Gavin's smile was wide and unbothered. He was pretty as he was clueless.

"What are you planning to do with it?" Remi asked me, though her primary focus was giving all her love and attention to my four year old Dalmatian Memphis.

I let out a puff of air because I honestly didn't know what to do with the place. It was a beautiful three story classic Victorian styled beach house built in 1883 that faced the ocean with a perfect view of the lighthouse. On the outside the seventy five hundred square foot architecture was absolutely stunning. It looked as though it was a tiny gray castle with a white wrap around deck on every level. You could see so much from the viewpoint . By the way it was positioned you could barely be spotted.

"Earth to Sia!" Anya called out. "Are you alright? You have been zoning out so much today?" She added. She was standing in front of me bending so low I worried her investments would topple out of her tank top.

"Yeah I'm fine. It's just been a long week that's all." I answered. It wasn't exactly a lie, with everything that has happened with our grandmother these past couples of weeks flew by in a blink of an eye. It was weird knowing that she wasn't somewhere in the house making sure there wasn't dust or fun anywhere. At her funeral I don't even recall seeing a single tear fall from anyone's face not even my mother's. Everything was so touch and go. Was I weird for being the only who felt a tinge of sadness?

Clapping her hands ecstatically Anya swiftly resumed to her cheerful spirits. Her empathy towards me lasted about ten seconds. "Right!" Putting her hands on her hips my five foot four sister stood in the middle of us. "Movie night starts at six on the dot."

Snapping my head up so fast I'm pretty sure I pulled a muscle in my neck. "What?"

Rolling her eyes before sporting her former cheerleader grin. "Movie night like old times." She spoke like it was an obvious suggestion.

"That use happened at our house." Justin corrected.

She snorts. "Your point?"

"Won't that be weird?" Remi's eyed bounced from person to person. When no one said anything she asked, "Isn't her stuff still in the house?"

"Quit trying to force the fun out of it! It's not like the five of us are ever all together anymore." Anya addresses the group. "The years here were shitty and the only good memories I have were spent with you guys. For old times sake just say yes."Without another word she plopped back down sulking like a child.

For a moment we all just stared off into different directions lost in thought. We might have not been as close like when we were younger but I knew her well enough to know she was hurting. Like how the old saying goes people grieve in different ways and acting as though she was fine was perhaps her way of handling it.

"As long as it's not Dirty Dancing. You ruined that movie by making us watch it a hundred times." I released a fortifying breath, before plastering a smile on my face for my sister's sake. Immediately I saw the features of her face soften as she grew excited once more.

"Woah let's not get too hasty. I for one can not turn down the chance of watching the late great Patrick Swazye woo me through the screen." Remi supplies.

Stretching forward Justin says, "I don't know about being wooed, but you can count me in." He nods his head in Anya's direction while giving all his attention to me.The butterflies that tried to form in my stomach quickly disintegrated then were reborn as moths. I knew it. There was something officially wrong with me.

"I'm not going to lie Johnny was a handsome man. If I was Baby I'd risk it too." In true Gavin fashion he spouts out the most unexpected remarks.

More chatter erupts and from practice I have learned to tune it all out. Just when I did I noticed up ahead my mother was engaged in conversation with a man I had never seen before. I don’t know why I was so transfixed by his appearance. From the distance I could barely make out his face, but still there was something so familiar about him. I couldn’t look away once I became aware of his presence. It was a strange emotion to have over someone that I’d never met before. I inhaled sharply, my brain started feel fuzzy, and there was a chaotic sensation moving around in stomach. It began to make its way up spreading all over me practically paralyzing my entire body.

Believing he sensed me gawking at the two of them I was jolted out of my daze. Both of their attention turned towards me as they made their way down the beach. It was like a burst charge of fireworks slamming against chest. I was barely breathing from anticipation and excitement wrapped into one. The accelerated rhythm of my heartbeat drummed so fast, you’d swear I was high off recreational drugs. I had never felt like this before or maybe I have and just forgotten the rush.

My mother who was slightly a few steps ahead of the guy marched through the sand like fire was on her ass. “Girls!” She hollered, even though we were just a few feet away. Anya immediately stopped talking meeting our mother halfway. I swear those two were peas in a pod. They matched the same energy, shared the same mannerisms, hell they looked so much alike you’d think I was adopted.

“Hello hello hello !” Mother rushingly greeted everyone. “Can I grab ahold of everyone’s attention for a quick second?” She began clutching onto her pearls and I mean that in literal sense. My mother wore those particular string of pearls whenever she was in Nantucket. I don’t know why but it became a thing of hers. Usually when she began to toy with it profusely meant something was eating at her mind. Though maybe this time I was overthinking it. After all the only reason any of us were in this forsaken place was simply due to the fact her mother insisted the reading of her will and testament be held here. “I’d like to introduce you all to this fine young gentleman.”

“You got that right.” Anya eyed him like he was sex and food rolled into one. Something you want and something you can’t live without. Flirting was second nature to her. She couldn’t help herself if she tried, even though her husband was sitting right beside her.

My mother turned her attention narrowing her eyes on my older sister as if we were back at the age where her penetrating scowl could evoke obedience. Doing her impression of a fake laugh she returned her focus on the man in the Ralph Lauren beach fit. "This is Sebastian." Mother cleared her throat before continuing. "Your grandmother requested that he join us today. It has come to my attention that Sebastian was a cherished friend of my mother."

"What in the hell did you guys talk about?" Gavin's attempt of comedy was met with silence. A bewildered Anya spoke first. "How did you meet my Nana Florence?" My sister asked what I'm sure we all thought to ourselves.

Sebastian hesitated almost unsure of his unspoken words. "I mostly just helped with the renovations with her house and did what I could when she needed assistance with stuff. I apologize for not being here earlier. By the looks of traffic everyone was leaving town when I was coming in." His eyes found mine and I stared back with a blank expression like I was hooked onto every syllable that he spoke. I quickly looked away and toyed with the loose thread on my denim shorts so I would not come off as someone with a staring problem.

"Even though I'm late I would like to offer my deep condolences. She was an incredible woman who I know will be greatly missed." He continued, at least someone was finally sounding sincere.

My mother let out a laugh that came at such inappropriate timing. "Indeed." Her smile dimmed. I'm sure her mind was racing with the question of how long it would take to get a glass of wine in her hands. Apart from the background noise coming from the beachgoers there was still awkward silence that came on. Out of nowhere Memphis jolts up besides me and I was worried something bit him. Before I could get to my feet to check on my dog I see that he rushes over to Sebastian.

Sebastian drops to his knees and embraces an excitable Memphis as though they've just reunited from being apart. I stare at the sight unable to wrap my head around the scene. Don't get me wrong he was a loving and sweet dog, but he didn't take too well to strangers. Ever. He licked and jumped all around Sebastian I thought he was going to knock the wind out of the poor guy.

"I'm sorry about him." I pulled Memphis off of him hooking his leash to his collar. I angled my body so that I was in front of him.

"No worries." Sebastian says as he wipes the front of his pants with his hands. "I'm only sorry I had my mouth open during that last part." His faced scrunched in a playful manner and I had to send little memos to brain reminding myself to breath.

"He will try to french kiss you in a heartbeat." I stated. "The gentle giant will wash your face in saliva if you let him." Good grief what was I saying.

Sebastian laughs, our gaze holding an eerie sense of familiarity. Even if years were to have gone on by there's no way possible I could forget those pair of eyes. "I have to remember that for next time." Even the sound of his voice sounded as though I have heard it a million times. A favorite song you remember the melody to by heart but for some unfathomable reason can't conjure the lyrics as hard as you try to remember.

"Have we met before?" I bounced from one leg to another trying to adjust my feet to the burning sand. "I just can't help but wonder if I have seen you before." I weakly explained. I stared into his eyes looking for some indication that I wasn't going senile so soon at my age.

"Yeah in her dreams." Anya mumble loud enough for all to hear.

Sebastian stilled for a moment. "Sia right?" Sebastian asked clearly ignoring my sister's comment. I nodded my head yes. "I recognize your face from the all the photos from this album your grandma showed me of you." He pinned me under his unwavering stare and the heat that I felt was no longer from the sand as I felt it in places it didn't touch.

I quickly lost my smile for two reasons. One reason being that I was more than surprised she even uttered my name around strangers and not just pretended I didn't exist altogether. She was not the boasting type of grandparent that bragged on her grandchildren. Now that I think of it she never even complimented me on anything ever. Secondly, why in the everliving hell would she show Sebastian photos of us?

"Puberty wasn't exactly kind to me growing up. So I can only imagine the pictures she could've shown you." I swallowed hard. I was starting to inwardly cringe at the thought of him seeing my most awkward stages of me during my youth.

"I am going to have to disagree with you." Sebastian said quietly as he leaned towards me. In my head I rehearsed what to say next but the ability to actually make sound felt impossible. Filling in the silence between us Sebastian finally answered my questioned.

"Other than that no I don't believe ours paths have ever crossed before today." He blinked once and a slow smile formed on his face before saying, "Which I now realize was a terrible existence I was living." Sebastian cocked his head to the side, looking at me with a curious expression.

A weird tiny laugh fluttered out of my mouth almost like how burps come up. This wasn't me. I didn't fawn over men that turned me into a lovesick puppy, and yet low and behold there I was metaphorically shitting my pants at the sight of him. It had suddenly dawned on me that my group of friends had been silently watching us the whole time and that my mother somehow managed to disappear. I turned around to face them and all but one person stared back at Sebastian and I with mischievous grins. Justin however eyed Sebastian with visible disdain.

"Hey Sebastian you should totally stop by the house later today and taste my sister's cupcakes." My eyes bulged at Anya's bold innuendo. If my eyes could throw daggers she would be dead in an instant. Clearly seeing the look of mortification painting my face she quickly tried to backtrack. "You see Sia is a pastry chef and her vanilla butter cream cupcakes are practically little clouds of heaven." She choked back a fit of giggles.

I was afraid to turn my head to look at Sebastian. I just hoped his face didn't mirror my horrified expression. Blocking Anya out of view quick on her feet Remi stood to my side. "It's a silly tradition we have which newcomers are welcomed to. We just gorge out on food while watching Anya approved films." Remi said to him. I was still one hundred percent embarrassed but very much grateful for Remi.

"Then the dicks to chicks ratio will finally be even." Gavin added eagerly. I rolled my eyes as I shook my head. I started to say something but Sebastian beat me to it.

"I can't." For some reason when he spoke it sounded like the scratching sound a record player makes when it abruptly stops. The question of "why" was floating in the air. His answer oddly made me feel disappointed which I'm sure he could tell.

"It's just that I wanted to leave out before the weather could get a chance to trap me in." Aha! So I wasn't the only one who could sense the calm before the storm.

Out of nowhere finally speaking up Justin rose out from the sand. "Maybe next time." His hint of sarcasm did not go unnoticed. I wasn't sure why Justin was giving off douchebag behavior it certainly wasn't like him. Sebastian eyes went from me to Justin then back to me again. Sensing no threat by the way I was doing my best to shift further away from Justin, Sebastian bent back down to get on Memphis's seeing level.

Stuffing his hand in his pocket he pulled out a piece of parchment paper. Opening it up he broke a golden brown cookie in half before offering it to Memphis. Inhaling it in one bite, Sebastian quickly stood back up petting him on the head one last time. "He was only after the cookie in my pocket." Sebastian said to me. I wasn't sure why it felt like an ominous statement but it did.

"It was nice meeting you all." Before he turned away he looked over his shoulder at my grandmother's house that sat up on the hill. I watched him walk away and a piercing pain squeezed at my heart. I brought my hand up to my chest to massage the area that caused me actual pain. Whatever the hell was happening I could begin to feel it. Like a part of me was missing and I just now realized it.

"Well he was weird." Gavin blew out a whistle.

Later that night I tried to ignore that sensation that crept up on me. I baked to my hearts desire and even that couldn't silence the reoccurring voice in my head urging me to not let it go. To not forget him. Everyone came back over to the house as planned. I tried to coexist alongside them, pretending that I was fine. For the most part it worked. I didn't see my mother again after she vanished from the beach. I called both of my parents asking them if they knew anything else about the man from earlier. No one could supply any bit of information that I could use. The only thing my mother did mention was that her lawyer confirmed that she had written Sebastian a letter and that was all he could disclose.

Anya somehow managed to squeeze in more than one movie to everyone's dismay. Not only did we have to endure Dirty Dancing, but we had to sit through Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights. We all sullenly agreed to one more before calling it a night and then on perfect cue suddenly a loud crack of thunder roared throughout the night. Before we knew it the power went out. Loud pelts of rain fell on top of the roof like bullets. The sounds omitting from the ocean sounded terrifying. Turning on our flashlights from our phones we were all gathered in the adjacent room from the dining area.

"You all know what this means right?" Gavin's face hardened. He stalked backwards on his heels as he backed into the flatscreen. The white light from his phone created a shadow around his face. "Say it!" Anya's voice came out like a nervous screech. Gavin nodded his head profusely, placing his hand on his hip his face adopted a disappointment expression. "I no longer have to endure that Cooper guy's singing."

From what I could make out in the dark Anya's face scrunched up in anger. Prodding a finger to his chest. "I thought you were going to say something serious."

"I just did!" He retorted. Just when I was convinced that I was going to have to break up a meaningless argument loud pounding came from the other side of the front door. All of our heads whipped towards the archway that led you to the entrance of the house. Instinctively Justin and Gavin exchanged a look before stepping in front of the rest of us. Anya poked her way between them running to the door before anyone could stop her. Gavin was on her tale calling after her, while Justin and Remi followed. Whoever it could've been was more than likely a neighbor or a beach straggler. Figuring they had a handle on whoever was at the door I went off on the pursuit of light.

Considering the fact that my grandmother hated candles as much as Frankenstein's monster hated fire I knew there was a huge chance I wasn't going to find anything. I walked up the stairs using a dim light that barely guided my steps. The house had always seemed familiar. Yet quiet and alarming all in the same breath.

I spotted for signs of significant changes that Sebastian could have made at my grandmother's request. Nothing looked remotely different. In fact the place looked older and shabbier than before. The black and gold foliage patterned wallpaper peeled around the corners of the wall. Cobwebs took up the ceiling and the hallway reeked of old books and soddened leaves. The cherrywood hardwood floor creaked beneath my feet as I took very slow and cautious step. I don't know why but the door at the end of the hallway called to me first.

There was not much that I remembered about this house. I wasn't quite sure what I was even going to see once I opened it. Unshakable nerves ripped through me as I pushed in the door. My heartbeat suddenly steadied when I saw that the room was nothing out of the ordinary. I shook my head at the silly thoughts I cultivated in my mind. I use to be afraid of this place and I suppose old habits die hard.

It felt like a scene in Harry Potter film as I stood in middle of the doorway holding up my small light from my phone in the center of the darkness. I angled my phone around the room looking for storage bins that could contain anything useful. The bedroom looked like it has been not lived in for quite some time. The bed looked sunken in and if I were to sit on it I'm pretty sure dust would form around me. Not much of anything was in sight apart from the dresser and a full length wooden mirror that leaned against the wall.

The only thing hanging in the small closet were white plastic hangers and linen sheets on the top shelf. Closing the door to the closet I released my pent up sigh because there was absolutely nothing of use in the room. I was ready for this night to be over so that I could return back to my version of normalcy that was miles and miles from here. Turning around accidentally bumping into the mirror. Rushing to catch it from falling over I nearly tripped over my feet trying to hold the heavy thing up. Feeling very out of shape I headed for the door when I saw that a piece of folded paper had fallen onto the floor. Turning the light back on my phone to see better I bent down to retrieve it. It was a crumpled up old photograph.

When I opened it immediately their faces nearly knocked the air right out of my lungs. I stared at it in disbelief trying to wrap my head around the imagery. It was fucking impossible that what I was seeing was real. The photo looked dated like it might have been taken many decades ago. As it fell from my hands and I stepped away from it like it was lethal. A humming sound passed through the house and suddenly the lights flickered back on.

"Sia!" Anya yelled my name from downstairs. I was too stunned to answer her. "Get your butt back down here! Sebastian is here!" As clear as day I heard what my sister was saying, but that photo held me captive.

The ink was faded but I knew that place far too well. The lighthouse in the picture was unmissable. It was the people inside the picture that threw me for a loop. Standing in the sand on the beach with a beagle wrapped in the woman's arms, she was embraced in a kiss with a man who looked like it could have very well been Sebastian. An from what I could see of the woman’s face it looked identical to mine.

[findingyouagain]

𝙾𝙽 𝙰 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚄𝙳.

Here’s a little bit of angst featuring 11 and the Lady. Set after The Angels Take Manhattan but before The Snowmen.

“No one will hurt you as long as i’m breathing.”

The Doctor’s words lingered in the air as the two Time Lords sat on a couch in the library.   Head leaning on his shoulder, the Lady didn’t look up from the book in his hands, which he had been previously reading aloud from.

He had stopped a few minutes earlier, and she wasn’t sure whether it had been something in the text that had caught his eye or just his brilliant but anguished brain running wild inside his head, but something had made him pause and turn to look at her: eyes taking on a darker and more serious shade of green and mouth set in a frown.

“What?” she had asked upon his silence, curious as to what was troubling him this time. It felt like everything troubled him nowadays   ———   or maybe really nothing at all.   The Lady had begun to lose count of how many days they had been holed-up in the TARDIS, hidden away up above Victorian London on a cloud.

Not that she minded, she was just as lost as he was at the moment   ———   sad and confused and angry.   They had lost their best friends, their companions, her first true companion of her own:   Rory. Amy. The Ponds. They had been such a big part of the two Time Lords’ lives, and then in a blink of an eye, they were gone.   And they were never coming back.

And here we are. You and me. On the last page.

They were mourning   ———   although, perhaps over time their mourning had turned into sulking and isolation. But could anyone really blame them? No matter what they did, how many lives and planets they saved, how much peace they brought and fighting they ended, the universe spat in their faces. It took their friends away. It took the people they loved the most away. It took their planet away, their people, their family, their kids.

The universe took and took and took from them but no more. The universe couldn’t take anything else from them if they gave it nothing to take in the first place.

And that was how they ended up on the cloud.

Alone.

But together.

Still together.

“No one will hurt you as long as i’m breathing.”

She hadn’t responded immediately, instead letting his words settle into her bones. It was a promise she had heard from him before. It was a promise he had broken before. It was a promise he’d never be able to truly keep because sometimes the universe was cruel, and it took without warning or reason or rhyme.

But it was a promise, nonetheless, that brought a small smile to her face because she knew he meant each word with every fiber of his being. He believed the words and had every intention of holding himself to them.

It was why they were on a cloud.

The universe couldn’t harm them up here.

He could keep her safe up here.

He wouldn’t lose anyone else if he stayed on his cloud.

“I know,” she finally whispered back, leaning up from his shoulder to give his lips a soft kiss. “I know.”

[rachelisnotatwork]

Week 5: books, chocolate, albatrosses, racist penguins, gales and the arsehole of the world

Monday day time found us in killing time as we had lots of plans for wildlife spotting in the evening...but not much for the day. We started off with a walk down to tunnel beach. This was basically a giant hill that ended in a tunnel hewn into the rock by a local landowner so his daughters could bathe in private on the beach. When we eventually found the tunnel (not signed, which was weird since they’d made a tourist attraction out of it), it lead to some rocks with huge waves smashing onto them. I personally would be more worried about drowning than prying eyes, but what do I know, I’m not a Victorian patriarch?

After that we headed into Dunedin. I wanted to get rid of a few second hand books (normally I just leave them in Airbnbs, but the huge cost of books here meant I was going to full resale value) so we picked a second hand bookstore. Sometimes places  pleasingly match up to stereotypes. The place was crammed floor to ceiling with shelves overflowing with books, interspersed with the occasional handwritten labour. There were more books stacked in boxed on the floor and in piles on the counter. An assistant wrapping books in brown paper called over the owner, who was exactly the sort of cheery slightly rumpled looking older man you’d expect to be running a second-hand bookshop. Despite clearly not needing any more books, he did buy mine and whilst I promised Marcel, the pack mule of our holiday that I would only buy as many books as I sold, I lied. Headed out with a joyful stack some time later.

Our next stop was to buy expensive fancy chocolate, as dammit, I have needs and I was dying for a decent hot chocolate and some squares of good quality dark chocolate. They did sell me a good hot chocolate, and a couple of nice bars, but refused to part with any of their pulverised chocolate bits for hot chocolate as they are apparently barely meeting their own demand. Clearly they did not fully appreciate that I was a hot chocolate addict in distressing withdrawal.

Stocked up with chocolate and books we headed home for a bit, before the evening entertainment. This was first off albatrosses. I’ve wanted to see one for ages, and luckily outside Dunedin is the only mainland colony of them. The only problem with where they nest is it’s a great spot for all sorts of birds (apparently birds like it windy) and there are about a million seagulls there, one of which shat on my face just as we were going into the distant albatross hide to watch them. Not cool. At least being shat on by an albatross would have some rarity value. We did get to see them soaring about and lots of teenage albatrosses flirting, so that sort of made up for not being able to wash my face for 45 minutes.

Afterwards we had an hour to kill before going to see the penguins come home. We had ambitions of a walk, but the wind was up, the rain and sea gull poo was falling and the cafe had nachos. In a moment of madness, I saw a pattern for knitting a cute little penguin toy in the shop and decided to buy it and make one for my niece. I did not realise until later that the pattern was a 7 page long nightmare and the wool they sold me, alpaca, appears to have been spun by a sadist to be as hard to knit with as is possible (and I’m a mediocre knitter at best). And it turns out the designer was also responsible for the golliwog pattern that the shop was surprisingly still selling (apparently NZ hasn’t heard of the 21st century) so I also accidentally funded a racist.

The penguins (little blue this time) like to come back home at dusk in herds. So we all piled onto a platform overlooking the windswept bay (I wore two jumpers, Kate’s ski jacket and my windbreaker over the top to give you an indication of how nice NZ summers are) and waited. French tourists angrily shushed all the children (I love French tourists, they always vocalise what my grumpy inner voice is thinking). Then we waited some more. But then they all came in a series of waves, which was pretty cool, although up close they look a bit like rats swarming over the rocks when they lean forward. But up close they are cute. They all had a bit of a freak out because a gull was sitting on the ground near their path home. Apparently this is not because gulls bully them (surprising since I had gulls down as the arseholes of the avian world) but apparently because there isn’t normally a gull sitting there and they don’t like change. 

Lots of them had built their nests under the platform we were on, so after they had reunited with their chicks, there were lots of quite cool calls going on from under the platform- it was nearly dark by then and their calls sounded a bit like the noises the monster/alien makes in a horror movie when the teenagers aren’t yet sure whether it’s friendly or not. So the sounds you hear about 2 seconds before the first teenager gets eaten.

The next day our final destination was Invercargill, which Keith Richards visited and described as the arsehole of the world. So we decided to make a few nature stops along the way. First off, we took a walk along to a lighthouse at a place called Nugget Point. This was on an extremely empty bit of coastline and so it was quite a pretty drive, and then we walked along the lighthouse. The seas below were incredibly clear so you could see lots of seals diving about and generally having a good time in the water (they always make being a seal look like so much fun). End point was pretty windy, but this is NZ, so you get used to that.

Our next stop was a place called Surat bay, which Marcel told me was famous for sealions. I was dubious. We walked about 20m and found a male sealion blocking our path, dozing in the sun. 

Then another huge sealion came out of the sea, furious that another male was enjoying life and chased it away. 

Then as we walked along the path a third sealion swam just next to the shoreline, watching us suspiciously. About 30 seconds after seeing the first sea lion, we saw a huge one lying on the beach chucking sand over itself to cool down. A smaller sea lion tried to sneak onto the beach for a nap, waking up our big boss who was furious and again chased him away. At this point I apologised to Marcel about my sealion scepticism.

We kept walking along the beach for a couple of miles, seeing more male sea lions and one very sad looking lady sea lion. 

And then I posed with a sealion to embarrass Marcel

We then crossed the headland to the next beach- for the sole reason that it was called Cannibal bay and that amused me. Incidentally this was the first day of the new year where it didn’t rain at some point. Didn’t realise when they said NZ was like the UK that they meant in terms of rained out summers.

As we drove back from the beach through the nearest tiny town (Owaka), I insisted Marcel stop so I could get a picture of teapot land.

I love weird roadside attractions like this. Marcel stayed in the car, and planned our last walk, which was a brief detour to some falls. With all these walks, by the time we reached Invercargill we were too tired to leave our rather dated motel, so we made dinner there. As a result, I can’t really tell you if Keith Richards was right or not...

Having said that, the next morning we were forced to have Starbucks coffees for breakfast as we couldn’t find a hipster coffee joint, so it’s clearly not that great a town. We stocked up on some more cherries from a roadside vendor and headed out with a similar plan to make lots of stops and have lots of walks along the way. Our first stop, gemstone beach, was fairly badly timed with the tide as it had come up leaving about 10m of accessible beach. We moved on to a lookout point. It was just that- a point. No accessible walk. We consulted the map. It stated there was a beach called Bluecliffs that sounded like we could walk on it. We drove to where google said the access road was. No road. We kept going, consulting a map, until it seemed like we might be only a few fields from it. We crawled under some electric fencing. We headed through some blatantly private property. Eventually we reached what google thought was the road- a completely flooded and overgrown mud track and beyond that a shingly beach that was incredibly hard to walk on, so we chucked pebbles at the sea for a bit and then gave up on that stretch of coastline.

Our next stop was Manapouri, a small town on the outskirts of Lake Manapouri. It had one open restaurant, which was a mexican burrito place in a converted church, run by some very friendly Punjabis, which was unexpected for a one-horse town. After lunch we wandered along the very windswept lakeshore and then took a less windy walk down the river to see where the river taxis went as we had planned the next day to take one in order to go for a hike.

Our final stop for the night was an airbnb in Te Anau, a neighbouring bigger town where we could stock up on essentials (for me, Green and Blacks chocolate to make hot chocolate with).

The next day dawned rainy. We waited for a break in the clouds but decided to walk a little closer to home so headed to the lakeside rather than the further away river taxis. By the time we’d driven to the car park at the start of the walk it was pouring with rain. We turned around and went home. About half an hour later the sun came out again and so we went for round two of operation “try and have a walk”. Luckily the weather held and we had a gorgeous hike through the forest. By the time we were done we were fairly starving and headed to a cafe, which served us with cakes that were at least 90% sugar. Even I couldn’t finish mine it was so sweet.

On Friday we’d booked onto a boat trip on the Milford Sound, which was about two hours away. We decided to head out a couple of hours early so we could stop off at a few points of interest on the way. First off was mirror lakes, which were pretty disappointing as it was one of the many, many occasions in NZ when it was raining, which sort of ruins their reflective quality. 

Then we had a walk by another lake through some sheltering trees. By this stage I was looking a little anxiously at the time as whilst the boat offered a barbecue, as a vegetarian I wanted to stop at the cafe beforehand. Marcel insisted we had time to visit the Humboldt falls. These were down a very long gravel track with regular sign off for ominously named things like “deadman’s track", “historic grave" and “dead horse bog". At this point Marcel realised that the sound was further away then he thought and it was later than we thought, so we had to gun it through. Which is fairly hard to do as the roads are small and there is a very long one way tunnel, where you have to wait your turn at the traffic lights. Whilst we waited we were visited by a begging kea. Apparently they bite tourists a lot. Since I had no intention of sharing the meagre food supplies in our car as we definitely had no time to visit a cafe at this stage, I was safe.

We arrived just in time for our boat- which thankfully had a vegetarian option or I would have spent the voyage glaring at Marcel. Thoroughly recommend going with the Go Orange cruise at 5.30pm as it is the only boat that goes out that late and there were 14 tourists, including us, on our very large boat. We picked the top deck, which was open, and pretty much had it to ourselves apart from when some Swedish tourists briefly came up. It is quite pretty out there and the day improved as it ended so that by the end of the journey there was even a glint of sun from behind the clouds.

We drove back making several more stops to see various waterfalls and wild lupins (which look lovely but are apparently a pest as everything cute and/or colourful is in NZ). 

We also waited forever at a red light before the giant one way tunnel and before it went green they turned the signals off for the night. Luckily there isn’t much traffic on the road at that time so there wasn’t any reversing needed to make it through the tunnel safely.

I have contributed very little to our trip planning because I’m lazy but the one thing I really did want to do is go glacier kayaking at Mount Cook. Mount Cook is kind of an arse to get to, so stage one was driving up through Queenstown. We stopped for lunch but it was annoyingly full of tourists so we quickly headed on.

As we drove towards it, it got more and more windy. By the time we reached a nearby lake it was so windy that at the lookout point I had to get Marcel to open my door from the outside because I couldn’t push it open against the force of the wind. Then the rain started. And not the light drizzle type.

The only accommodation left available in Mount Cook was a pretty expensive fairly giant hotel, so after checking in we headed to a much cheaper cafe to overlook the wind and rain-lashed mountains opposite and debate our chances of the tour actually going ahead. If the weather is bad, they cancel it. Whilst we had basically come there in order to kayak, I was concerned that there might be a difference of opinion on what weather was acceptable to kayak in. In my mind, this category does not include any degree of rain. I feared hardy outdoor types who owned waterproof trousers might be willing to head out in conditions I very much wasn’t.

In the end though, the rain wasn’t a problem. When we woke up, for once the skies were really quite clear but the winds were gale-force so the trip was cancelled. After a brief trip to the alpine visitors centre to look at their crazy photos of mountaineers of times passed, we decided to walk to the glacier lake instead. 

As I have a design flaw by which I get earache when it’s windy, I found myself buying some sort of weird outdoors thing that could work as a trekking headband/hat/balaclava etc. I fear I’m on the slippery slope to owning waterproof trousers and knowing what crampons are.

The walk to the lake was beautiful, although we did occasionally get pelted with pebbles such was the strength of the wind, and when we got there, I couldn’t make it up the ridge to the best lookout spot because the wind kept blowing me over. But it was beautiful and the icebergs were all blown into the corner nearest the walking track anyway, so we saw them for free without having to paddle about.

After this we drove down to Wanaka, taking another windswept stop at Lake Pukaki on the way. 

Wanaka took longer than we’d though so we both arrived starving and grumpy. We had our picnic lunches we’d prepared for the kayak trip and we’d intended to eat them by the lake, which has a magic tree growing out of it (it’s just a willow that grows slightly underwater. People find this weirdly exciting). Because the winds were still super gail-forcy, we ate it in our gently rocking car.

We then drove to the nearby Clutha river to try and have a bit of a walk. We didn’t hold out much hope though that the wind wouldn’t rapidly drive us back to our car. Amazingly though the bank offered a lot of protection from the wind and with the sun out, it finally felt a bit like summer, wandering along the banks of a crystal clear river with the sun blazing down. So that was a lovely end to a somewhat grey and rainy week!