#no progress reports for this one bc i wasn't really sure what i was doing

[shanastoryteller]

SPEAK OF HER

Summary: She's just his widow.

aka post-Endgame Pepper/Tony Orpheus and Eurydice AU

[risestarkiss]

Hey, so I was thinking about your post about the Timeline Paradox Photo from the movie, and I've been turning it over in my head for a few days (I love timeline nonsense, I've spent hours on LoZ timeline theory, this is my bread and butter) and anyhow I think I figured it out actually.

So, to start, we're dealing with two timelines--the main movie timeline, and the bad future timeline, with the photo originating in the bad future timeline. First, we need to know when does the movie timeline diverge from the bad future timeline, and that would be as soon as Casey emerges from the time portal. Obviously in the bad future timeline Casey didn't exist at the time the Kraang invaded bc he wasn't born yet, so the whole "butterfly effect" thing was immediately in effect as soon as he popped out of the portal and therefore the movie timeline split off from the bad future timeline as soon as Casey shows up. This means there's a window of time from when Casey came out of the portal to when the Kraang were released from the prison dimension (or possibly later to when they summoned their main ship from the top of the tall building) for the photo to have logically been taken (since obviously no one's going to be taking wholesome family photos while the apocalypse is unfolding).

So then, let's look at the events as we know them for fact from the movie timeline. Before Casey finds April, a few things happen. First, the turtles fail to retrieve the key, but since they don't realize how important it is, they just head back to the Lair to chill for a bit. Second, April steals the vials of herbicide (er, whatever the blue goopy stuff was) from her college, and then encounters Casey. And then the rest of the movie unfolds the way it does bc Casey warns them about, y'know, the impending alien invasion and general doom of the world. Which means the team crashes the summoning party before the Kraang are able to pull out their weapons (possibly their exoskeletons? I'm thinking it's got to be the exoskeletons they were gonna try and nab, and not the main warship). Anyhow, this sets off the domino chain to lead to, well, all the other movie events.

Now, what happened then in the bad future timeline? With no Casey at that specific moment in time? My best guess is: the turtles fail to retrieve the key and head back to the Lair. April steals the herbicide from her college and then what? She's got a dangerous substance that she doesn't know a lot about, so it's possible she also heads to the Lair to have Donnie analyze it for her. And hey, she pulled off a cool ninja mission on her own and is making progress on her road to being an investigative reporter, that's something to celebrate and maybe even commemorate, so someone pulls out a camera and they all take The Group Photo (as to who's holding the camera, I mean, Donnie's got all sorts of tech that I'm sure could accommodate taking a picture of the group). Meanwhile, the Foot Clan frees the Kraang, and the Kraang are able to get their exoskeletons (again, this is a guess, but they seem much more powerful and protected w/ the exoskeletons, so), and no one is the wiser bc there was no tip off. The Kraang then make their way to the highest point in the city (big tall building who's name escapes me, sorry) and summon their main warship, which sets the apocalypse in motion. Given the lapse of time the turtles and April aren't able to react quickly enough to do anything to really stop the Kraang (and even if they could, the Kraang already have All Their Weapons)--intead, they manage to save enough survivors and go into hiding, allowing for Casey to be born and for the bad future timeline to unfold until it reaches what we get to see at the start of the movie.

So, that's my best theory for when the photo was taken and how it's not actually a true paradox or inconsistency. Actually, it could even double (or triple) as a really poetic bit of narrative writing, since future-Leo draws the image of the key that will release the Kraang on the back of the photo, the photo is an image of the people who are key to stopping the Kraang, and if the photo was taken/created on the day that everything started, then it might be a sort of temporal key to help Mikey's mystic powers guide Casey backwards in time to the exact day the photo was originally taken so that he could try and change the future.

Sorry for the really long anon ask, I'm super new to tmnt and am still getting a feel for things, so I was a bit too shy to just write this all out in a reblog of your original post. But I love your blog, thanks for writing all these fun analyses!

I’ve been thinking this over as well + having some great discussions on the original post. 😁 I completely agree with the divergence of the timelines happening once Casey comes out of the portal, and I do think that the happy family photo would have been interrupted by Casey’s appearance. But yeah, your explanation makes complete sense.

The twist on the key on the photo is such an interesting take!   Thanks so much for the insight and welcome to the fandom 😊! Aww, it’s my pleasure. I love these silly little guys 😄💜

[autisticalastor]

tagged by @the-flaming-nightmare tysm!!!

teehee working on a prequel to my charlastor proposal fic bc he recreated their first date & i thought itd be fun to write :D

It's time for their nightly progress report. These meetings have gotten far more interesting since Extermination Day only a couple weeks before, with the hotel having gained a few new residents after its relaunch. Alastor lays across Charlie's bed, leaning over the edge to look over her shoulder at the papers she's reading from. They're far more official than they used to be, but he can't help a fond smile at the doodles she still makes in the margins.

These meetings used to be held in her office, but as they grew more comfortable with each other, they'd often switch between her and his own room, sometimes even having a drink after and just talking about whatever else came to mind. He's come to really enjoy these private moments with Charlie, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't sometimes wish for more of them.

"Hell to Alastor," Charlie says in a teasing tone, drawing Alastor from his thoughts. He honestly hadn't realized until then that he wasn't paying proper attention.

"Apologies, dear, I seem to be a bit distracted tonight. What were you saying?"

She turns and gives him a fond smile, and oh, does that make his chest tighten. He's been getting that kind of feeling a lot with her lately, and he isn't quite sure what to make of it. What he is sure of is that he'd quite like to see her do it again.

Charlie puts her stack of papers down, turning to face him more fully. "What's got your mind wandering so much? You've been like this all week. Am I overworking you?"

He lets out a soft chuckle at that. "No, no, I assure you, I'm fine." He isn't really sure how to explain himself, though.

What really has been distracting him? Those warm smiles when she catches his attention, the way she leans into his touch any time he grabs hold of her, how she laughs when one of his jokes lands successfully, the way she says his name—

Her. It's all her. And he isn't really sure when it became so hard to be around her without feeling this way.

hehehe tag time!! i tag @nottapossum @danana-split @small-duckie :3

[somebluemelodies]

almost gave up on writing this bc all my progress got deleted over a couple weeks ago but i am nothing if not determined (read: a stubborn shit) so i finally came back to rewrite cross-posted to ao3 here :>

As a kid, Roier was obsessed with the sea. He loved everything about it. Including the merfolk.

Every book about mer and their lore he could get a hold of, he read. They fascinated him to no end.

It's why he's never trusted the Federation. Why he never told his abuelo about his fascination. Roier knows what they do to the mer they capture.

His abuelo is a long-time Federation officer, and he remembers overhearing many a work-related discussion at night when he was younger, or reading his classified documents when he wasn't home.

The Federation "studies" mer, asking people that if they ever see a mer, to report the sighting to an officer. And by that, they experiment. All under the guise they preach to the public of "studying" them.

(Deepsea mer get it the worst. Labelled as aggressive, human-killing monsters, the Federation has made everyone fearful of them. Roier pushes everything he's ever read about a captured deepsea mer to the far back of his mind.)

(Surely they can't be that bad, can they?)

When Roier was old enough, he took off to live a life on the sea. A pirate, if you will, because that's what the Federation calls everyone smart enough to not conform to their overbearing ways. And he's been thoroughly enjoying his life ever since.

As it stands currently, he and the rest of the crew - friends, really - have been docked for a few days now for reparation and selling purposes. He tries to ignore the fact there's a plethora of Federation officers wandering the town, with a base of operations just outside of it, and instead spends much of his time wandering up and down the beach.

It's what he's doing this late afternoon. About to walk past a cave, a slight glint in his peripherals has him glancing into the mouth of the cave and freezing in his tracks.

Roier finds himself staring at a mer, who appears to be tangled in a net. Their tail almost looks black, but under the light of the sunset, he realizes the scales are actually the deepest emerald green he's ever seen. Looking around to make sure no one - no officer - is watching him, he slips inside.

His boots in the shallow water catch the attention of the mer, whose head snaps up at the sound. Piercing blue eyes almost seem to glow in the dim light, glaring daggers at him, and Roier freezes, holding his hands up. "I just want to help! I'm not here to hurt you or something. Can I help you?"

(Can the merman even understand him?)

The silent question is answered by the snarl on the mer's face gradually dropping, followed by a hesitant nod. His eyes continue to follow Roier closely, though, who tries to mask his surprise at the fact he's just been comprehended by a mer.

Kneeling next to the mer, he's able to make out more detail. Most notably, a bunch of scars, be it a long, thin one stretching across the bridge of his nose or the sheer amount littering his arms.

(It looks like there are more on his torso, but his arm is covering the lower half. Alarmingly, Roier swears he sees red underneath, too.)

(One step at a time.)

Roier pulls out his dagger, and starts the process of carefully cutting the merman free from the net. While doing so, he notices one signature detail of the net.

It's white.

"Did the Federation try to capture you?" he asks, sparing a brief glance up at the merman's handsome face. "And you managed to escape?"

(Focus. Focus.)

The mer nods. Roier sighs. "Fucking hate those guys, man."

He perks up a bit, as if to say "you too?" and the pirate offers a small smile in turn. But it fades after a moment. "I know what they do to you guys. It's not fair."

Silence befalls them, save for the slicing of his dagger against the net. It takes a bit, but he's finally able to pull the netting off of the mer and toss it off to the side.

The mer looks some semblance of thankful, although it turns to a grimace when he goes to move his arm that's been wrapped around his stomach this whole time, and it resumes its original place.

Roier frowns. "You're hurt. Let me see."

He doesn't move his arm, though, and it takes Roier gently prying it away so he can inspect the damage. Doing so reveals some type of stab wound, but from what, he isn't quite sure. It's not life-threatening, that much he also knows, but it's certainly bad enough to warrant concern.

(And he's very concerned.)

But he quickly realizes yet another problem. Said problem being that he has no medical supplies on him. Granted, he could go back to the ship for some, but that means either running into another member of the crew or worse... someone else stumbling upon this mer.

(Is it worth the risk?)

"Okay, bad news," he speaks up again. "I don't have any supplies to help you on me, but I might be able to--"

Roier is cut off by watching the mer reach for a satchel he didn't even realize the latter had. "Oh, shit-- Do you have your own supplies?"

The merman nods, but before he can take out any of the supplies on his own, the pirate is reaching out to take the satchel. "I can help you again," he offers. "It'll be a lot easier than trying to fix yourself, you know?"

He seems surprised by the offer, but holds out the satchel after a few moments, watching him with a look Roier can't quite decipher.

(Apprehension? Fondness? Incredulousness?)

(All he knows is those bright eyes are a lot less scary than they've been made out to be.)

The patching-up process takes a little longer than the untangling, and Roier has to light up the lantern he brought with him now that the sun has set, but he finally finds himself wrapping the mer's torso, sitting back slightly on his knees to inspect his work. "I think that should do it. Just... be careful, okay?"

Another nod, and Roier takes another few moments to study him. Between the glowing eyes and the scars, the slight rips in some of his fins, thinking about his initial attitude...

"Are you a deepsea mer?" he asks after a beat.

The mer freezes, watching him closely and seeming to scan him for any signs of hostility. Roier only looks back at him, though, making no subtle movements, and he finally nods slowly.

Roier hums. "I figured. But for all the Federation talk about you guys being ugly monsters... you look like the opposite." The merman looks stunned. "You're... very pretty, you know? Handsome."

(Beautiful, even.)

It's his turn to be surprised when the mer smiles for the first time. A relatively small smile, but one nevertheless, and it's one that makes something warm start to bloom in his chest, everything feeling just a little fuzzy.

The mer then picks up his satchel again, rummaging through it until he pulls something out. He grabs one of Roier's hands, holding it up and gently placing something smooth in his palm before closing his fingers around it.

(Roier mourns the loss of the brief contact, and then immediately mentally kicks himself in the ass for the fact.)

("Please be careful, okay?" Another nod.)

With the high tide coming into the cave, the merman is able to start making his way out with relative ease, sparing a brief glance back to Roier and waving before disappearing under the water with a glint of emerald under the moonlight.

For several moments, he stands there in silence, processing. And then, he looks down at his hand, opening it.

A sizeable piece of dark green sea glass rests in his palm, and he can't help the smile that etches its way onto his face.

The pirate carefully pockets it, and, on his way back to the ship, can only hope to whatever god is listening that this isn't the end, but only something just beginning.

[daisychains111]

live "tweet" books with me (via the goodreads progress bar) pt.2: Lore by Alexandra Bracken

idk who the narrator of the first part was, but I'm very confused...if he's not a god anymore is her love interest...or maybe her dad?

who is gil...how did he die?

her grandfather? wasn't gonna guess that

potential love interest spotted..hey masked dude

oooooo does she know him? intrigue

SEVEN YEARS HOLD SHIT THIS IS GONNA BE GOOD

potential love interest #2...van hello

I cannot stress enough how happy I am that her name isn't actually lore

wait nvm it is actually her name...that's stupid

Annabeth come get you mom, this is embarrassing

Percy come get your namesake ancestor...this is embarrassing

they are saying a lot of words that mean absolutely nothing to me?

happy to report that her name isn't actually lore...thank God...gods? whatever

"the Olympics but with murder" Nothing better happen to Miles bc I love him already

HAH poseidon and perseus reference

(I'm gonna spend this whole book talking about pjo just fyi)"

I get this feeling that apollo let Castor kill him

nooooo not the doggg

castor out here with the Olympians shittiest moments highlight reel to remind athena that he's cooler than her

oooo are miles and van gonna be a thing..that would be cute

athena deciding to keep miles around like he's a puppy is peak comedy

just because you're pointing out that the names are getting stupider doesn't mean you don't lose a point for continuing to name your characters stupid things

van and miles going on a secret special side quest together? mmmmhhmmm checks out

don't get me wrong I love a good enemy's to lovers but istg destiny if she gets with the guy who killed her family I will never forgive you

EW CREEPY PEDO GUY GET BACK CREEP

I am directly halfway done with this book, and there has yet to be one single ounce of romantic subplot...This is extremely disappointing"

WAIT IS GIL HERMES!!!

IS AEGIS THE NECKLACE

MILES HAS IT

I asked for romantic subplot but idk if this is what I wanted...however I'm a suckered for childhood best friends to lovers so we'll see"

"do that again when you mean it golden" period you tell her castor (I 1000% agree)

also him calling her golden is cute...even if I'm not sure why he does it"

hehe miles and van bonding time.. thats a romantic subplot I can get behind"

"oh so you're in love with him" YOU TELL HIM MILES

throwing away the necklace as if it's not extremely likely it's the thing you need...aces move lore, stop pouting and think

istg if you kill castor rn I'll never forgive you

IRO YOU MOTHERFUCKER IF YOU REALLY KILLED THAT BOY

 HES ALIVVVEEE

ATHENA YOU MOTHERFUCKER...I should've know better than to fucking trust you

MELORA I KNOW YOU DIDNT JUST DO THAT

SHE WASNT EVEN LINKED ATHENA WHEN I FIND YOU

it doesn't make sense that she's had aegis the whole time and wasn't even thinking about it enough to hide it from readers...im sorry thats just lame"

this book lacks interesting romantic subplot but " I was born knowing how to do three things: how to breathe how to dream and how to love you" is the smoothest shit ever"

him calling her golden? cute...her calling him big guy? really fucking weird

istg don't pin with a couple separated by mortality, I can't handle that rn

HEHE lore calling van out for staring longingly at miles

lore and miles bestie vibes only

I get the sickening feeling castor will not be making it out of this book alive

holy shit she killed athena"

holy shot did athena just redeem herself

apollo let castor kill him CALLED IT

YAY FOR STAYING MORTAL AND STAYING WITH OUR FRIENDS!!!

This book wasn't bad but after the literally masterpiece that is the darkest minds series I expected more from miss bracken...the only reason I was able to read this as fast as I did was bc I had to finish it to read iron flame LOL

[pills-dolls-and-kittycats]

Part 3 - Death Path

While I recall when I first started to consider Sam a friend rather than a client, I'm never quite clear on when it began to feel like more. Perhaps it was when I went to see him on the first weekend in March, right after he told me that his girlfriend passed away. Other times I think it was just after his mother's funeral, which was the first time we had sex. The trail of death paved the way for us, in many more ways that I initially realized.

It must have been March 3rd. Harlow, Adela, Zilka, and I were having afternoon tea at an upscale tea house on the outskirts of the city in celebration of Harlow’s birthday. It was one of those late winter days when the sun was shining through a curtain of falling snow. We were seated in a round glass room surrounded by gardens, which were just naked branches at this point in the year. The tea room was busy, but the shining white flakes falling against the curvature of the glass walls made it feel serene, like being inside a snow globe. 

I felt a sense of joy and wonder. Spring was around the corner, school was nearly done, I was spending quality time with my three oldest and dearest friends, and there was scandal and drama in the air. My friends were there for it.

“I think I might be having an affair with a former client” I announced.

“So is he also in a relationship?” Asked Harlow.

“Apparently not anymore, his girlfriend died last week. I guess he’s just my side piece now”. 

I admitted that I found him embarrassing but somehow couldn't explain the odd attraction I developed for him. The tea got hotter when we brought up Zilka’s one night involvement with him years prior.

“What’s he like?” inquired Adela, turning to Zilka.

“To be honest, I thought he was mentally delayed when I met him, and actually considered the question of consent about going home with him. Ultimately, I decided I was being extra progressive by overlooking it, but we didn’t click. I didn’t see him again.”

“He is very awkwards and strange.” I agreed. “But I think it has to do with all the drugs he does. Honestly I’ve never seen anyone consume as many drugs and all at the same time. He may not be long for this world either.”

Adela continued with her inquiry, “So how did his girlfriend die?”

“No idea, I don't feel comfortable asking, I'll let you know if I find out”.

We drank tea, ate pastries, gossiped and giggled for hours. I was having tremendous fun, but couldn't help looking forward to evening time when I'd get to see Sam. In part because I wanted more gossip to report back to my ladies.

While Harlow disapproved of my choices she was curious. “So do you have feelings for him?”

"Not really, not in a romantic sense. I think of him as a really good friend.”

"So if things just ended tomorrow how would you feel?”

"Honestly, I would be sad at a loss of a good friend, but I wouldn't be heartbroken.”

Adela interjected, “Arguably the loss of friendship is far worse, isn't it?”

"It really can be.” We all agreed.

As I entered Sam’s apartment I handed him a bottle of fine tequila and offered my condolences 

"It’s fine. Don't worry, I'm not emo about it or anything.”

“It’s okay to feel sad Sam, I'm here if you want to talk about it.”

“I’ve mentioned Alice to you before, haven't I?”

"No actually, not until you texted me about her death.”

"I’m sure I have, you probably don’t remember.”

I had no idea what to think of this exchange.

“Anyways” he continued, “She's the one who taught me to make martinis the proper way, she was a bartender. I met her though Meena actually, they used to be friends.”

I noticed there was a lit candle in his living room. He fixed us a couple of martinis, Alice style, and brought out a plate of cocaine.

"She wasn't texting me back the whole time I was in BC, I sent her the song Ghosts, thinking she was ghosting me.” That when I heard his voice crack a little, it's the first (and possibly the last) time he seemed genuinely sad. He quickly shook it off and continued with his story.

"She left her health card here. When I couldn't reach her, I went by her condo to leave it at the front desk, and the cops were there.”

“Did you get questioned?”

"Not really. They probably went through her phone already. I think they knew I was out of town.”

I got no closer to finding out what happened, except now I was left even more curious. 

Crash

Completely frozen

Rainbow circle spins for days

Everything is lost

The next day, my computer crashed beyond repair . I lost everything, and finals were fast approaching. After stupidly attempting to reboot it on my own for a couple of days, I wrote a haiku about it for creative writing class and finally took it to the shop to have the hard drive replaced. The data was not salvageable. 

That day I had my first breakdown of the week, at which point I smashed my phone repeatedly into the back of a bus seat while yelling obscenities at the driver. Now, I was no longer able to even access my online class material. I was writing my final poli-sci paper mostly by hand (through tears), but also on my tablet (between fuming fits of rage). I couldn't see full pages, I couldn't open multiple tabs, I didn't know what I was writing or what I already wrote. I was stressed and running out of study aids which I needed now more than ever before. 

Two days later my phone got repaired. I had a second breakdown around this time - though no electronics were hurt. Upon starting up my phone for the first time in days, I texted Sam in a state of panic. He responded with, “can't meet now. I'm at the hospital with my mommy’s remains.” 

I could not in good conscience follow up with my own concerns. Shortly after he texted me again with details for his mother's funeral. I think this was Friday, the funeral was on Monday and Tuesday, my final paper was DUE. 

In addition to my school anxiety, I was very uncomfortable with the idea of going to the funeral. 

“Isn’t this the person that made all those soups for you?” enquired Adela.

“Yes”.

“I think you have to go.”

"I just can't tell, like doesn't he have closer friends than me? And won’t relatives wonder who the fuck I am?”

"He’s reaching out to you in his time of need.”

"Yeah, I kinda can't believe the amount of tragedy this person is facing. I guess I don't have a choice.”

Beyond a sense of obligation, if I was being perfectly honest, I was curious. I wanted to know what his weird life actually was like, and I always enjoyed an excuse to wear a sharp pants suit. 

That Saturday night I received notice that my computer was fixed but I couldn't get to the shop in time. I tried to pick it up on Sunday but the shop was closed. I managed to get it back by weeping hysterically into the phone until the shop owner came in on his day off to allow me to retrieve it. I begin to type! I got halfway through to learn that the paper was actually coherent and only required a bit of tightening on the paragraphs to make some semblance of sense. I got to the halfway point and I discovered madness!!! It’s all abject borders and bio politics and do I really need Agamben in this???? And how did Derrida make his way in here??? It did not seem to contain a single complete sentence! What was I trying to say??? It’s 2 am, my eyes were burning, nothing made sense anymore and I had to be up for the funeral at 9 am. I gave up. 

The morning of the funeral started off dramatically. Sam put me in touch with his neighbour Erik so we could grab a ride together. The night before we agreed to touch base at 10 am and meet in front of the buildings at 10:15 in order to get to the funeral for 11. 

I called at 10, no response. I began to make my way down stairs when I realized I called the wrong number. I called the right number by 10:15, Erik answered “YES?”

"Oh hi, are you still waiting outside the buildings?”

"No! I left already. I couldn't just wait around not knowing if you slept in or whatever”.

"I'm sorry, I called the wrong number initially, but we did plan to meet at 10:15 and it's 10:15 now.”

"Um no. It's 11. You might want to get that checked.” He immediatly hung up.

I was panic stricken. 11?! My phone gave every indication it was 10. I called a taxi and the driver confirmed it was not yet 11. I started to worry that I got it all wrong. What if the funeral was in fact at 10 and I'm arriving an hour late? What if I'm headed to the wrong temple? Erik had the address.

I arrived at Heather Bloomberg's funeral with a good 20 minutes to spare. 

The service was moving. I learned that his father was a retired government official, his mother, a professor, his sister I already knew made documentaries and her husband, a symphony composer. They were all so upstanding and lovely. I was beyond shocked and baffled as to what the fuck was wrong with Sam specifically. I ended up journaling about it for my creative writing class: 

IT WAS A SHIT SHOW OF EPIC PROPORTIONS. 

The funeral was lovely, but it turns out that my usually very tolerable drinking buddy is extremely bad at grief. He managed to pick a fight with his family’s Rabbi, the Cantor, and his parents’ really nice friends who organized the Shiva sitting for them in their condo party room. It was now up to his drunk ass friends (including myself) to wrangle him repeatedly in order to keep him from causing more damage or getting himself badly hurt. After a few drinks and as the pathological problem-solver that I am, I was running back and forth attempting to mediate every situation (no one asked me to mediate), for people I have never met before (it was not good).

We eventually veered away from the civilized adults to end up in his friend’s recording studio in the middle of the night. I was now in a nightmare scenario which included a community of middle-aged, washed-up rock musicians and their accompanying, middle-aged groupies, all thoroughly still living in the 70s and 80s and behaving in a manner fitting those times. I suddenly recalled why my generation put a hard stop to ALL OF THAT. I was suddenly feeling like a very aggressive fly on the wall of some 1960’s rock parody. Drunkenly, I spent the whole night attempting to rescue all the glammed-up women from their turbulent lives of too many men and not enough self-esteem. All the while the women very adamantly demanded way too much explicit and objectifying male attention, and were lamenting their unfulfilling lives. I (even more drunkenly) gave them all my phone number believing there would be a consciousness-raising session to come. Many regrets there. 

On the positive side, those creepy dandy geezers still party like some freakish miracles of modern medicine. At least it seemed like the positive side at the time, less so the next morning when I woke up with the horrific sense of WTF just happened? Really, I barely recalled. I was dizzy, noxious and craving violence with a final paper to complete.

The next day I managed to complete my final paper through a painful hangover and absolutely no drugs. The previous night was the first time I'd seen Sam in public and I couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that he was suddenly a completely different person. My usually sweet, flirty, soft spoken friend was crass, angry, loud and entitled - a complete embarrassment. Still, I chucked it up to grief. Many people show their worse sides in situations of extreme stress. And Sam had so much to grieve about. 

Miraculously I completed and submitted my paper exactly on time and I felt like celebrating. I grabbed a bottle of brandy from my liquor cabinet and headed over to Sam's. He was about to watch The Tragedy of McBeth and suggested we drop acid. Sam has offered me acid many times before, but with my school workload it was always too much of a time commitment. This time I accepted.

When we started to feel really high we moved to the bedroom. We went under the covers and I allowed him to penetrate me for the first time. Our bodies were right up against each other and it was very intense, but not like making love, more like something dark and mystical. I would at moments forget the boundaries between our bodies as I fell in and out an ocean of senses and visions. When I started to come down I decided to go home. It was nearly morning and I had trouble staying asleep between snippets of fevered dreams. I was overwhelmed with the smell of my aunt's pajamas - a memory scent lingering from childhood. I changed my sweaty sleep shirt several times and when I finally fell asleep I had a weird dream. I was in a graveyard and Sam was standing by a tombstone mouthing something intently though no sounds exited his lips. The tombstone had numbers scrolling fast across its surface like code on a computer monitor. Everything was dark, and visible mainly in shades of grey.

I was starting to suspect that he was putting a spell on me.

Alice's Martini

Though I'm sure this technique isn't unique, it is truly worth a mention.

Swish dry vermouth in a chilled martini glass than pour it out. 

Pour in about 2 oz of frozen vodka. 

Rub a little lemon rind around the rim of the glass and finish it off with a lemon twist.