#wouldnt have otherwise picked the blue but I like how it forces me out of my colour comfort zone

[spocksmalewife]

Cyber locks attempt #1

[volganic]

Song of Communion (Redux)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] || [AO3]

OH GOD OH MAN IM SORRY THIS UPDATE IS LONG OVERDUE but its so long in comparison to other chapters........... ty liz for always supporting me and telling me to keep every detail in here bc otherwise this wouldnt be half as long as it is

song is o magnum mysterium (and quite literally the song that started this whole au in the first place)

A high-pitched ring of steel meeting steel sang through the crisp autumn air. Both Volga and Link's weapons were locked together as they tried to overtake one another. In the passing months that Link had come to visit and train under the dragon's watchful eye, this was the first time they had traded blows. The Dinolfos chieftain that the Hylian usually sparred with (under Volga's supervision) stood on the sidelines.

Volga withdrew his spear back, only to thrust it forward again to breach Link's defenses. Having gone through these exercises time and time again, Link had expected it to withdraw and drew his shield up to block the lance from grazing his exposed side. He's thankful for moving it when he did �� the dragon's raw strength was far greater than he had imagined; aimed to kill, unlike the Dinolfos who only struck to subdue. The force of the blow sent a shot of pain up through the length of his forearm. He grit his teeth and took a step back, ending their exercise to brace his right arm. He'd definitely feel that in the morning.

His partner lowered the spear and sent him an inquisitive look. Before a question could fill the space between them, Link brushed off any concerns he must've had with a dismissive wave.

"I'm fine! Let's continue."

Volga shrugged. If there's one thing he learned by mentoring him thus far, Link wasn’t like most people: where most people would have yielded and accepted their loss, Link recovered with a renewed strength and vigor. It was a commendable quality to possess. It also made him stubborn. Too stubborn sometimes, but someone else could be unfortunate enough to teach him patience and to pick his battles. He'd leave that to the poor woman general back in the castle.

Their feet moved together in sync as they circled around each other on the cliff side, their steps carefully choreographed to keep their attention on each other's movements while still mindful of the crumbling rocks beneath their feet, and easily poised to either strike or block  whoever dared to make the first move. Link desperately tried to ignore the bead of sweat running from the edge of his brow down over his cheek, but moved quickly to brush it away.

That was all the distraction Volga needed to suddenly lunge forward with his weight to strike. They fell into rhythm now: strike, step to the side, block, sweep, repeat. The dragon had drilled these movements into his brain. It took a lot of calculating than he was used to, thinking at least three steps ahead before the enemy while also keeping an eye for any openings or escape routes — this was only a friendly spar, but the danger of traps or ambushing parties was also something to keep a note on in the actual battlefield. General Impa would find it unorthodox and out of order by her methods, but it was far more engaging and befitting of a leader as grueling as Volga's system worked.

Link stumbled with a swipe of Volga's weapon nearly coming into contact with his ankle. He teetered off to the left, barely catching his footing on the edge of the cliff. Volga scoffed when the Hylian righted himself and poised his shield up, waiting for the next move.

"Scatterbrained today, aren't you?"

"No," he lied. His eyes averted away from Volga for only a second to see that the Dinolfos that lurked in the background was slowly stalking its way toward his unguarded flank. Have to move away from the edge of the cliff, he thinks, somehow catch Volga off balance, turn to keep both of the dragons in sight, overtake them —

— there's movement in his periphery from Volga's direction. Suddenly he felt a shove, and felt himself falling. There wasn't much time to react to such brute force, and even less to grab any of the rocks to keep himself from falling further down the cliff side. Volga stood on the edge, spear still in hand, and was growing smaller and smaller with each passing second. He tensed with realization. Stupid, he thought, stupid to think he could have trusted him!

His back slammed into something. It wasn't the ground, he knew that much. The impact still knocked the wind out of him, and before he knew it, he — they — were scaling their way back up the mountainside. The Lizalfos chieftain that acted as his safety net didn't seem too thrilled with carrying him back up to his master, but Link thanked the three that they still were looking out for him. 

Link was less than graciously dropped back along the edge of the cliff. The Lizalfos and Dinolfos chattered among themselves and retreated back into the caverns now with their duties completed. Now it was just him and Volga, left with an air of tension.

"Didn't expect that, did you?" It wasn't a question. They both knew that much. Link ignored the hand offered to help him up and pushed himself off of the ground, dusting off his tunic and brushing dirt off of his face. 

"You could have killed me!"

"Not my intention," he scoffed, "but there are others who are more inclined to do so." He clapped Link's hurt shoulder for good measure, smirking inwardly with the grimace he was given. The Hylian could pout and whine all he wanted. It wouldn't stop Volga from relishing in the fact that he toned him down another notch. 

--

"Are you sure you don't need any more weapons?" Link asked. In reality, he was genuinely curious, but he couldn't pass up an opportunity to poke fun at the dragon. Volga grunted dismissively in response, shuffling out of Link's way as he allowed the boy to wander around in the room. 

Today must have been something really special: not only was it the first time he had ever sparred with Volga, but this was also the first time Link was allowed in the center of the volcano — more importantly, it's where Volga kept his so-called "hoard". Maybe it was a tad naive of Link to assume Volga was the kind of dragon to collect all things that sparkled and shined, to have a room (or several) flush with treasures never before seen that piled to the top of the ceiling and threatened to spill over with its endless amount of secrets. The three chests that sat along the wall hardly looked like they harbored anything of worth. Blue eyes watched the dragon sift through one of the chests, and while it held a considerable amount of jewelry, it all looked extremely... tacky. 

What he was rifling around for, he didn't know. 

Link rolled his eyes and instead faced the walls of the cave. This, he believed, was the real treasure. Weapons upon weapons upon even more weapons lined the faces of the walls in an elegant and organized display. It was like being in a candy store! Not a single space was wasted, ranging from the smallest of daggers meant for tiny hands to the largest Goron-forged blades he had ever seen taking a place like a trophy. How Volga of all people managed to acquire them (or sweet talk a Goron into giving up such impressive armaments) was a question for another day; he didn't want to be pushed out so quickly after being invited in for the first time by prying too much.

He toddled over to look at spears undoubtedly meant for the Zora. A careful fingertip ran over the curve of the trident. "Is your spear like that of the Zoras?" he asked innocently, eyeing the gleaming silver hilt of a Zora spear next to the trident.

"Just because we're no longer outside does not excuse you from your other exercises, boy," chided Volga from the other side of the room. "Run through it again — and don't touch anything."

The Hylian swiveled his head to look at the dragon and object, finding that Volga's back was still turned to him. Alright, maybe he was a little predictable. Link pulled his hand away from the Zora weaponry with a huff and moved quietly to admire another set of miscellaneous weapons. 

əʊ   m æ g ʌ m   

A smile crept onto his lips as the words paired with his tenor rolled off his tongue so naturally. Though the translation of it was lost to him, such a simple activity like singing brought him an immense amount of joy, a sense of freedom — even if it were in the middle of the volcano.

m ɪ s t ə r aɪ ə m   

At least here in the caves, there was a sense of privacy that the castle could not provide — or as much privacy as he could get with the dragon or any of his kin within earshot. Better them than any of his comrades who would begin to question when and where he had found his voice.

Volga paused his rummaging to listen to how the notes reverberated off the decorated walls. Link took it as a good sign that he hadn't been interrupted by now and continued on, staying within arm's reach of the wall and running his fingertips along the rocks, trailing between the edges of many dangerous blades. 

i: t   ə d m ɪ r ə b aɪ l 

One sword caught his attention. It stuck out among the collection of other plain, familiar-looking swords that Volga had hung around it — swords he might have picked off from Hyrule's forces, no doubt. Its serrated blade nearly pricked his finger even with the most delicate touch. If its serrated edges weren't striking enough, the jewels encrusted from the center of the blade to the hilt and the four-pronged guard were enough to keep him interested. It was intimidating, but a beautiful blade.

Volga might not have been the kind of dragon drawn to every trinket that sparkled and shined, but Link was beginning to convince himself he might be that kind of person instead.

s eɪ k r e m ə n —

"Stop."

Link frowned. With a heavy sigh, he released the breath he had been holding to finish out the rest of the melody before he was so graciously interrupted. He tore his eyes away from the sword to face Volga who now stood in front of a closed chest, arms folded.

"What have I told you?"

The Hylian crossed his arms. "Don't touch anything—"

"Wrong." Volga paused and wrinkled his nose considering his words. "Perhaps I did also say that, but that is not what I refer to now." That earned him an eye roll from Link. "Need I remind you of the importance of the diaphragm?"

"Hylia, not this again!" groaned Link, throwing his hands up in the air. "It's always something with you, isn't it? Am I not good enough by your standards?"

"You're ever approaching it," he countered, "but you continue to move too much, and it carries in your voice despite how you choose not to believe it."

The dragon took three large strides to approach Link, planting his clawed hands on the captain's shoulders, adding an uncomfortable squeeze and pressure for an extra measure. Link grimaced again with the weight against his bad arm. 

"Like the core of your body, the diaphragm is a key component to—"

"'—to achieve a better quality of pitch, volume, and tone'," Link finished for him. It was obvious it wasn’t his first time hearing it before either. "'If your breathing is poor, it reflects in the singing', I know, I know."

"Then," Volga pressed his thumbs into the pressure points in Link's neck, "why do you continue to breathe so poorly?" His hands stayed locked in place as the Hylian crumpled in his hold, writhing and attempting to swat him away.

"Volga- ow- stop—!!"

"You should start by releasing tension in your upper body."

The dragon loosened his grip for Link to stumble away from him, a smug grin upturning his lips with the ferocious look he was getting. Link rubbed the back of his neck in annoyance.

"You're such an ass."

"I could say the same about you." 

Link shot him another glare through narrowed eyes and now turned his back to the dragon. He hasn’t decided whether or not it was a good thing that Volga was capable of being just as immature.

“Where’d you get this?” Link asked and pointed to the sword, desperate to change the subject. "I could use a new blade."

“We haven’t finished our lesson, boy,” he said. Link braced himself for another painful squeeze to his arm as Volga pulled him back away from the display. Instead — with gentle hands — he dropped a silver band encrusted with a round emerald cut into Link’s hesitant palm. It was far more elegant than the jewelry he had seen it mixed in with, more along the lines of what he had imagined Volga would be enamored with. 

Something in the back of his mind reminded him that this stone looked familiar.

"- song stone."

Link shook his head, breaking out of the stupor he didn't realize he was in by the stone glimmering against the light. "What?"

"It is a song stone," Volga repeated, having sensed Link's distracted mind. It definitely was an opulent accessory, if not the most dignified piece in Volga's hoard. But he wouldn't tell the boy that. "I think you are prepared to harness its power."

Another magical item. The Hylian knit his eyebrows together with some aversion. "Uh-huh." Even with the hesitance toward it, Link still slipped it onto each finger to find the perfect fit. It was a really pretty thing… The ring fit snugly around his middle finger, and almost looked to glow brighter as his hand moved around to catch the light. "And it can do what?"

"Amplify your gift, if the name was not obvious enough for you." Volga smirked from another one of Link's annoyed expressions and crossed his arms. "There are no limits on your vocal range with the power of the stone. After all, how else do you plan to command your army? Or perhaps even charm lost, weary travelers to their doom?"

The displeased expression on Link’s face quickly turned disheartened. "Volga, that's not funny."

"I am not trying to be funny. Jokes are another way of stringing up lies, and I do not care enough to lie." The dragon shrugged nonchalantly. "It is merely the reputation placed upon me, and if that is how they choose to acknowledge me, I have no interest in fixing it. If it keeps fools off of my mountain and out of my caves, so be it. If they choose to ignore it, I accept no responsibility for what may happen to them in my domain."

The words hung in the air for longer than it should. Link's eyes moved away from Volga's concealed ones to look back down to the ring. Even after all this time, the Hylian had never considered how he was one of the lucky ones — if not the only one — to make it out of the Eldin Caves alive. He had fallen for Volga's magic, to one of many of his songs, and yet here he stood, now learning how to wield it for his own greater purpose. 

He had never considered those who lost their lives to it.

Volga cleared his throat. He despised the tension that lingered between them. 

"Rumor has it that the stone you hold was forged from the same emerald safeguarded by the Children of the Kokiri," he said softly. Link perked at that and looked to him again, interested. "Whether that rumor is true or not, I myself cannot say, but I would be inclined to agree that its magic could stem from their songs." Uncrossing his arms, he tapped the jewel chained to his own chest with a clawed finger. "This jewel of mine not only does this contain the magic of my birthright, but it, too, is also a song stone, forged by the Goron Ruby."

Ah, so that's what that was. Link stared at it and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, idly turning the stone on his finger with his thumb. 

"Volga, I don't think I can—"

The faint echo of a Bulbin's horn traveled through the air, cutting Link off. That wasn't a sound he was used to hearing. The dragon perked at the sound, understanding its call. 

"I want you to have it," he assured, gently placing a hand on Link's pauldron. "I implore you to let go of whatever doubt you might have clouding your judgement. You've earned it. Come now, my friend!" His arm moved around to wrap around the other shoulder, pulling the Hylian even closer and ushering him out of the room. "The newest group of chieftains have returned with fresh kill, and the time to feast is now."

"Wait— wait wait wait-" Link squabbled, planting his feet on the ground, "did you just call me your friend?"

The dragon paused. Did he say that? His tongue ran along his teeth as his jaw shifted in thought, tasting the word in his mouth. Friend. All things considered, that was the best way to describe their relationship: more than strangers, more than acquaintances, neither enemies or allies — at least until now. Volga nodded once as if to convince even himself. "Yes, I did. It seems only fitting to say so, does it not?"

"You could have at least started by using my name first. You've never called me 'Link'!"

"Don't push your luck, boy," Volga chuckled dryly and tightened his grip. "Do not tempt me into changing my mind. I would like to arrive at my own feast on time, and your chances of getting that blade you've been gawking at are slipping away."

--

"Brothers and sisters!" Volga silenced the group of his kin who growled among themselves by pounding the end of his spear against the cave floor. The sound nearly made Link jump out of his skin. "Tonight, we are gathered here not only to celebrate the autumnal equinox, putting aside our struggles and hardship of the last season, but to also forge a path to better our future. I thank you," he gestured to the troop of the smallest Lizalfos in the cavern, "for this bounty you have brought us. You have proven your strength and honor to rise to the occasion, to rise as chieftains, and to rise as leaders for the next generation of our kind.

As we move on with the coming season of change, we too, must change." He beckoned for the Hylian to move out from behind him. Reluctantly Link did so, stepping to Volga's left and coming in view of the band of lizard kin. "Most of you are familiar with this human," he said, purposefully careful with his tone when referring to the boy, "and know he is not a threat to our clan. With that said..." he passed his weapon over to Link's unsuspecting hands. This wasn't something Link as prepared for, severely underestimating the weight of the spear and nearly dropping it. He was a deer in headlights, now put as the center of attention, all of the reptiles’ eyes fixed on him.

"Tonight, we also forge our alliance with this boy. Though we are that of a neutral party, he is our friend, and, like the rest of you, my chieftains, he has risen to the occasion with the spirit of a dragon and will guide us forward for the greater good."

"But Massster!" A Dinolfos rose from its perch in a rush, eyes darting between the boy startled in his boots and its master, "you said we do not like humansss! We kill them!" It growled in opposition to the Hylian when his expression hardened. Sizing him up, it took a step forward when Link slightly shifted a foot backward. "Thisss one is small and weak! Easssy to kill!" 

"This one could kill you should I allow him to take another step toward you," Volga hissed, clasping his hand above Link's on the spear. "Move one more inch closer and he will become a threat to you. He will remain on this mountain longer than you if you continue with your insolence, and by Din’s name, I will leave you to bleed out myself. Learn your place, hatchling." His words dripped with poison. 

The Dinolfos held its vindictive stare for a moment longer before recoiling back to its perch with a sad growl. Volga snapped his head to the rest of the drakes with a frown. 

"Any more objections?" They sat in silence; his decree was loud and clear. The Hylian himself was just as shaken with Volga’s outburst, thankful that he wasn’t on the receiving end of it this time. "No? Very well." 

Link was left to hold the spear alone again as Volga moved forward to the slabs of meat scattered about on the stone table in front of them, ruthlessly pulling a Moblin flank apart by the bone from the lot of the carcasses. Having been so distracted with seeing almost the entirety of the lizard tribe in one place and nearly getting into a dispute with one of them, the Hylian had nearly forgotten that this was a feast for them — everything was raw. 

His stomach turned with the sickening squelch the meat had made when the dragon knight bit into it, blood and juices painting the edges of his mouth and dripping down his chin. Hylia, why did he agree to do this?

Volga exhaled in bliss with the coppery taste of fresh meat on his tongue. A sense of accomplishment warmed his bones; this, he knew, was the right course of action to move forward for both his people and in Link's destiny. He swallowed his chunk of meat before turning back to the Hylian, expecting him to accept his offering. When he didn't, Volga snarled quietly; culture shock must have settled in and frightened the boy senseless. But why? It was only meat! A harmless, ritualistic offering!

A sideways glance showed the tribe of Lizalfos and Dinolfos stirring in their place, eager for their turn to devour their bounty. Being surrounded by predators….

To ease the boy’s anxieties, it seemed logical to appear less menacing in a cave full of dragons. Volga held the bleeding limb between his teeth, his hands moving toward the straps that held his helmet together. 

Link’s eyes widened; everything unexpected today snowballed into an avalanche all leading up to the dragon unmasking himself. His grip on the hilt of the pike made his knuckles turn white in anticipation. He was lucky enough to escape from Death Mountain more than once, but never pinned himself ever lucky enough to witness the dragon of the Eldin Caves without his helmet.

The pointed chin strap clattered to the floor.

Oh goddesses.

Oh Hylia.

A mess of ashen-colored hair spilled out from the edge of the helm and Link’s breath hitched in his throat. Again, it was naive to think that Volga was anything more than a monster after months and months of grueling combat practice and coaching his voice. Had it not been for the other’s tall height or the black markings that surrounded his striking green eyes that now looked through him, the dragon could more than likely pass for a human. The Hylian stood frozen in place, the same cold rush he had felt the first time he had entered the caves and been mesmerized by the dragon’s song flooding his veins; this time, it was the dragon’s appearance that mystified him.

It wasn’t until the spear was taken from his hand that Link finally tore his eyes away from Volga’s. Now his hands were bloodied with the meat that held more significance than to serve only as a predator’s meal. Despite the voice of common sense screaming at him to not eat the raw meat, Link finally nodded in acceptance and bit into the flesh, pushing himself to ignore the blood dripping down his own chin this time. The chewy texture was awful and the taste was worse, but he only had this one life.

Why not?

Volga, pleased with the acceptance of his offering, took a hold of Link’s wrist and held it high, turning them both to acknowledge the rest of the troop. The Lizalfos and Dinolfos sat at attention.

“For the glory of Din!”

The cavern came alive with a cacophony of the dragon tribe’s roars, fires burning bright.

--

The first few days after returning from the caves dragged on from the castle’s infirmary — partaking in a draconian feast was fine, so long as the meat wasn’t raw and bleeding. Healers pushed Link to drink one too many teaspoons of bitter-tasting yellow potion, easily unconvinced that whatever ailment plagued him was not “only a stomachache”. His stomach churned horrifically from the aftermath, but the reward outweighed the risk, all worth being accepted into an extraordinary clan.

A clan he couldn’t bear dragging them through a war that wasn’t their own to fight. 

Link eyed the Magical Sword from its place across from his bed. Its previous owner had already been unfortunate to cross paths with this Cia, this witch that was planning an uprising of unknown proportions — she, in turn, was unfortunate enough to cross paths with the dragon that pushed her back into her place of hiding. Maybe, just maybe, it was a good thing that she had run into him first.

How would things have been different if she didn’t? Link often wondered about the outcome more than he would care to admit. Would the war have been over by now? Would Hyrule be laid into ruin? Would he be able to keep the princess safe? 

His eyes fell down to his hand where his thumb had idly turned the stone around on its ring. 

Cia needed a general to start this war. If she had succeeded, would Volga have joined her?

“Captain!”

The sharp sound of knocking against his door jarred him out of his thoughts. The hero — now that he was back within the castle, he almost forgot he had a title to uphold — moved to open the door. The messenger stood stiffly in a salute.

“The General wants you to ready your mount and prepare to move out before sunset, captain!”

Link nodded once and saluted him off, shutting the door once he could no longer hear the heavy footfalls from the corridor. It was already mid-afternoon. There wasn’t much time before twilight would be upon them. He turned back to look at the sword. Better to use it now than later. 

Without a second thought, he secured his newest weapon to his back and made his way out for the stables.

--

“Can we talk for a second, Link?”

Their newest addition to their party at least asked nicely. The hero paused his inspection of Epona’s hooves to look up at Lana, inviting her to continue on with her questions. Though she might have been allied with them for the last few months, Lana still remained an enigma to him: he wasn’t sure if she was hiding more than she let on since their first encounter, and more so with how much she knew about Cia. 

“I-I can see you’re really busy,” she stammered, already falling over her words. “But I just wanted to ask you something personal, if that’s alright?” 

It took every ounce of restraint to repress the urge to roll his eyes. Lana was a cute girl, sure, but Link knew where this conversation would eventually lead up to. There was no time to play these kinds of games with allies who had more than just a friendly interest in him, and even less with the sun slowly setting and sky turning into orange. 

But the company was nice, the presence of another person filling the space in the otherwise empty stable. Link turned back to his work and gave her one stiff nod. 

Lana relaxed almost immediately and smiled sheepishly. “I’ve noticed that you leave the castle grounds every chance you get whenever you’re granted the time,” she said quietly, planting herself on a wooden box near the other side of Epona to keep Link’s attention. “May I ask where you go?”

He didn't look at her as he shuffled from one of Epona’s legs to the next. His hand moved up where she can see, fingers and thumb pressed together. They move from the corner of his mouth to swipe over and touch his cheek. Home.

Her smile faltered. Lana said nothing as she wiggled in her seat and grew visibly uncomfortable with his answer. Her feet kicked at the hay around the box. Some part of Link didn’t like this conversation at all, but he steered his thoughts into focus, now rummaging through his pack to make sure he had everything he needed —

“I know you don’t go home, Link.”

He snapped his head up to look at her. Yeah, now he really didn’t like the direction this was going. He frowned when her eyes met his. 

“I know the village you hail from is in the west, but you head northeast. Please, be honest: where do you go?”

Was she stalking him? That was enough. Link scoffed quietly and pushed himself off the stable floor with the pack in hand, haphazardly throwing it over Epona’s saddle. He wanted this conversation to be over with whether he was prepared or not for whatever mission he was being set on. As he stood, Lana stood with him and stepped closer.

“W-Wait! I don’t know where you go, but I just want you to be careful, Link! The last time you returned, you were sick for nearly a week!” The sorceress said in anguish. He ignored her in favor of looking for the reins for his horse. “I can sense a change in you every time you come back, and I’m not sure if—” she stopped herself when Link snaps to look at her with narrowed eyes. She steadied herself with a hand on Epona’s mane, fingers delicately brushing through her white mane. “I’m not sure if it’s dangerous yet. Cia is coming closer with each day, and I— I can’t lose yo—”

“There you are, captain!” 

Lana backed off, retreating to her corner as Link both relaxed and tensed with his general now in the room. Their conversation was now at an official end with Impa wandering into the stables. He gave her a salute in greeting. She threw an arm over his shoulder and turned him away from Lana’s direction. At least they still held a common distrust over the sorceress.

“I apologize for this short-notice, but I need you to head into Faron Woods. Reports of more monsters have been flooding my desk, and some are trickling in with rumors of a sprouting Manhandla deep in the forest.” 

Link blinked up at her with an incredulous expression and suddenly noticed the lack of her own weapon on her person. Impa understood what questions he had written across his face and nodded affirmatively. “Yes, captain, you will lead a small brigade by yourself. It’s not your first mission alone, but I trust that you can command a group on a mission such as this.” She patted his arm and released him, moving to pass the reins on Epona to him. 

He wasn’t sure whether he liked the idea of being left to command a group of men yet without her guidance. On the other hand, it was nice to know that the Sheikah had seen enough growth in his skills to trust him with another mission. Soon enough, maybe, he would be the one to take charge and lead their men to victory. Without a second thought, Link accepted the reins and pulled Epona along out of the stables, sparing Lana one last sideways glance. Resigned in her corner, she gave him a small wave of goodbye.

Once outside in the glow of twilight, he climbed into his saddle. Some of his men — two soldiers and one fellow captain — were waiting for the order. Their general stood by Link’s side and saluted them off. “May the goddess Hylia smile on you all. And Link,” she said, placing a hand on his forearm, “bring my men home safely.”

The hero nodded to her with a lopsided smile and snapped the horse’s reins. With a loud neigh, Epona led them off into the settling dusk in the direction of Faron Woods.

[feverishmentalstate]

It's been awhile, wonder why?

When I left off, i was twirling around a living room. Brothers and sisters, watching me as my dead mother, crushed me to her chest...spinning my mouth open, sucking air, trying to get enough in my lungs...to scream. My eyes are those of a panicked animal, wide, pupils black from dilation, wildly locking onto brother...Mike, help me....sister Terri, she is enthralles by tha dance....she twirls in place eyes closed...too tightly closed, I spit tears running down her face. She knows, but hope, mad fucking hope. It has been hard without mom, especially for her....she wont lose her again, but..she will. Tears run down her face.

Julie, sister.....looking at me, face twisted in....what? Envy? Jealousy? Hatred, that mom picked me and not her, again. Just like when she was a small child...mom gave her to her mother. No, help there.

I see brother, Rick, I see his back as he walks out the door, not even a glance backwards to see if I was okay....nothing again.

The music abruptly dies, apropos, only sound is my heartbeat, and the buzzing. So loud, and it fills my head....not true! The flies, the buzzing, I looked where, up til then, I has dared not...I looked into my mother's eyes.

I tried to pull away, myself, my gaze....I couldn't. My mother held me, her eyes, once so blue, so full of love and caring ....(when she was dying, I was too young to leave the house. I would stay with her...she would tell me things, her fears, her regrets, never seeing us grow up, get married, have kids....I was 11....only one of her eyes would open, it was so blue, so blue against the yellow of her skin...it wasnt her fault...cancer was everywhere, she wouldnt have ts me those things otherwise...right?) I looked into her eye...please be blue, please let me see HER IN THERE!

Nope, I felt my panic turn to cold numbing terror, her eye was black and it buzzed...she pulled my face close to hers, I saw them, so many flies...

Her cold arms circled me, I had longed for this, begged God to give me back my mother, not take her in the first......Gods plan, killing my mother in the most horrible, demeaning way possible was Gods plan? To RIP the image of her from my mind and replace it with.....with....this....oh my fucking god, are YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, PLEASE, BE KIDDING ME. ..please...please....nope, he/she/it, wasnt kidding....

And, there ahe was, grey, one eye closed, one eye roiling with flies, her once fiery red hair dull, patchy from chemo....her lips parted, breath like a solid, thick, mushroomy...no mater how much I fought, cried, begged God again...her parted lips met mine.

It was too much....I knew this was killing me, nothing more, the room was gone, everyone was gone....it was just her and i ...and the buzzing.

A mother's kiss.....curing, soothing, tender....nope! Not this one!

Her lips mashed against mine, painful, and then tenderly, like a lover her tongue forced it's way into my mouth, like old liver....

OH MY FUCKING GOD DAMN YOUGODDAMNYOUDAMNYOUDAMN YOU, god....damn you...

I wake up, panicked, in the same room my mother had...cum to me? I couldnt sleep, couldnt breath, I was 12, and I was utterly alone in the house that I had watch my mother die in....night terrors.

The very first one. I would continue to have them for years. They were the catalyst, those were the begining.

Jump....back...the girl is gone, not sure where. Not sure if she was ever there. Every night, I was pulled into my thoughts, memories, they are crippling me. The meth kept me from the darker recesses of my mind.....in sleep, she would be waiting....exhausted she had little hold....stay awake until, exhaustion struck...like a brick to my forehead...but while others slept, I travelled.

She died on a sunny day, in watched from the doorway...father, sat beside her, she was in a coma, he lovingly dipped a cotton rag into cool water and pushed it between her cracked lips (no wonder he disappeared, he had left months ago, and who could blame him? Me.) The rag between her lips, dad looked startled, mom had bitten down on the rag.

[ill-skillsgard]

I want some arguing blurbs with Bill or aha. I know your writing is brilliant so you can have free reign.

Alex had fawned over you for nearly half an hour before you left for the party. When he saw you emerge in a new dress that he had never seen before, your legs looking smooth underneath opaque nylon stockings, hair done up in curls and his favourite shade of lipstick expertly applied to your lips, you suspected that you two would never make it out of the house intact. You had to push him off of you a couple of times to keep him from mussing your hair or smearing your lipstick because he simply would not allow you through the bedroom door.

And Alex looked amazing too. Everything he owned fit him well. From his sweatpants to his hoodies to the suits that he wore for special occasions. You couldn’t resist the way he looked in a button-down shirt and tie. The material clung so lovingly to his chest and biceps it could almost tear if he flexed hard enough. With the added layer of his suit jacket, you were almost tempted to let him kiss you the way he wanted to.

Alex settled for kissing your hand before you left for the engagement

The party was held in the ballroom room of a beautiful hotel that had been meticulously decorated with silvers and light blues to reflect the dawning of the Winter Solstice. Almost as soon as you arrived, Alex was being pulled this way and that to talk to his coworkers and friends while you tailed behind quietly. You didn’t mind that Alex was receiving attention and you were not. You thought it endearing that so many people wished to talk to him. The way they would all compliment his hair and brush his shoulders or ask to take pictures with him- it was all part of what made Alex, Alex.

But Alex also had a temper that was prone to flare-ups in situations of high stress. You had wandered away to weave through the hoard of guests to find yourself a drink and something to snack on while he was preoccupied. There were tables lined with champagne glasses and trays of foods that you couldn’t begin to put names to. Alex’s company was not on your mind as you selected a glass and tried a few hors-d'oeuvres, reveling to yourself over the deliciously crafted flavours and smiling faces surrounding you.

A few minutes turned into several and then several into nearly half an hour. You had done a lap around the ballroom when you decided it was time to go find the washroom to check up on your lipstick. 

There were several other well-dressed women occupying the mirrors that complimented you on your outfit, obviously having lubricated their social awkwardness with plenty of champagne. You thought to yourself that you should do the same so that perhaps you could make a couple of friends instead of having to follow Alex around like a lost kitten but before you could get to the drinks after exiting the washroom you were pulled back by a strong grip.

“Where the hell have you been?” Alex hissed.

Shocked by the anger in his tone, you could only blink a few times which was not a satisfactory answer to him.

“I’ve been looking for you for nearly an hour!”

“Sorry, I was just in the bathroom,” you defended.

“For forty-five minutes? I was worried! You didn’t answer your phone either.”

“Alex, I’m sorry. I must have put it on silent.”

You could tell he was having flashbacks to a time when another man had tried to pick you up at a party and he had discovered you just in time to see him try to kiss you. Alex had never truly gotten over that and had convinced himself that if he hadn’t intervened that you would have allowed the stranger to touch you.

For somebody as beautiful and well-liked as Alex was, he still had irrational fears and insecurities that made him think it would be easy for you to simply up and leave him whenever another man took interest in you. No matter how many times you tried to convince him otherwise, Alex would never believe that you only had eyes for him. It became the centrifuge of many arguments and was about to become one now.

“What if somebody tried something on you?”

“Then I would tell them to fuck off.”

“Well, what if somebody slipped something into your drink? Then you wouldn’t really be able to tell them off, would you?”

“Alex! We’re in a room full of friends. Why would anybody do that? You’re being-... You’re being-”

“What? I’m being what? Finish your sentence.”

“You’re being ridiculous! How come you’re allowed to go off to have your private conversations and I’m not even allowed to get myself a drink and go to the washroom without you freaking out?”

Alex clamped his lips together, grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of the ballroom to the lobby that had been festooned with silver drapes and dangling crystal icicles.

You turned your face when Alex tried to kiss you but he forced you back by your jaw and kissed you anyway. It was rough and you knew for sure that when he pulled back you would be able to see smudges of red all over his lips from yours. 

“You’re beautiful. You’re too beautiful. Someone might try to pull a fast one on you. Don’t make me feel bad for being worried.”

“Your worry is irrational and frankly, it’s insulting to me that you think I can’t defend myself or tell somebody to beat it IF they even attempted to hit on me. But nobody here would do that, Alex! Everybody knows I’m with you.”

You continued to prove your loyalty to him by pulling him back in for another kiss that only served to smudge around your make up even more. Alex didn’t care though. He was the type to walk back into a room with lipstick marks all over his face. And you knew that he would so you pulled a napkin from your bag and made him hold still while you wiped the stains off his face.

“Don’t you dare get angry with me like that ever again. It’s embarrassing.”

“When we get home... You’re going to get it, little girl.”

[desolationofzara]

three’s a crowd, but four’s a party part 2

Characters: Damian Wayne, Jon Kent, Connor Kent, Tim Drake

Pairing: TimKon, DamiJon

Summary: just two batboys trying to double date with their super boyfriends

A/N: annnnnddddd here’s part two!! This one focus’s more on Jon and Kons dynamic. Their actual date is in a little bit, I wanna build up to it and make it perfect! I also wanted to base my Kon off of @daddyschlongleg art. Enjoy!

Jon raced home after school. So maybe he’s a little excited to go to the fair. A little excited for his date. The thought of it made his smile widen and his heart beat a little faster.

“I’m home!” Jon called, opening the door to his house. There was unusual silence in the house. Jon knew his Dad could hear his bus drop him off a block before, and Krypto was usually racing out to meet him. “Anyone the-” Jon started but what cut off by a strong force knocking him to the ground. Jon shook the dizziness from his head and tried to find his attacker.

“Surprise!” a familiar voice yelled on top of him.

“I saw you last night when you got here Kon, it’s not a surprise.” Jon groaned.

“Flattered, but i’m not the surprise. Me tackling you was the surprise.” Kon smirked, getting off of the younger boy. Jon rolled his eyes as Kon helped him up. “Me going with you on your date is another one.”

Jons head snapped up. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.” Kon grinned, ruffling Jons hair. Jon was swatting him away when Clark approached.

“Hey kiddo, how was school?”

“Dad! Please tell me that Kon isn’t coming with me and Damian!” Jon cried.

“Tim’s going too.” Clark smiled, trying to console his youngest.

Jon relaxed immediately, “Oh. Like a double date. Okay. That’s not too bad.”

“What’s wrong with just me?!” Kon asked, offended.

“You want me to list them?” Jon smirked, walking into the kitchen.

“Don’t be a little shi-snot.” Kon quickly corrected himself. Jon chuckled opening the fridge.

“What are you making? Make me one too!” Kon cried from the living room.

“Make it yourself!” Jon called back, even though he was already making a sandwich for Kon. He could hear his ‘brother’ grumble as he dramatically trudged into the kitchen.

“How are you going to eat four PB&Js?”

“I’m a growing kryptonian boy, my appetite is through the roof.” Jon smiled, leaning down to let Krypto lick the last of the peanut butter off of the butter knife.

“Guess you could say your appetite is- out of this world!” Kon snorted.

Jon laughed loudly. Kon stuck his hand out expectantly. Jon looked at his hand and raised an eyebrow.

“Payment for entertainment.” Kon said with a tone that implied a ‘duh’ at the end.

Jon rolled his eyes and handed Kon a sandwich.

“For another sandwich, i’ll give you advice.” Kon said, scarfing down half of his sandwich in one bite.

“Advice?” Jon asked, his cheeks full of food too.

Kon swallowed, “On how to deal with Robins of course!”

“So, dating advice?”

“Sure, lets go with that.”

“You’re my big brother. You’re supposed to give me dating advice whether I want it or not.”

“My brain doesn’t work on an empty stomach.” Kon sighed dramatically, leaning over the kitchen counter like a diva on a piano.

Jon mock gasped, “You have one of those!?”

“I swear im gonna beat you up.” Kon glared, not moving from his position.

“Avoid the face, please. That’s the money maker.” Jon smiled, handing Kon another sandwich.

Kon snorted, accepting the sandwich. “Lesson one: How to deal with the Big Bad Batman.”

“Otherwise known as How To Develop an Immunity to Kryptonite.” Jon smiled into his food.

“Bingo, baby cakes. Gonna have to ask Daddy on that though.”

Jon started choking on his last bite of food. “I’m so done with you.” He gasped out, walking away from his older brother.

“Where are you going?! My lessons aren’t done!” Kon called after Jon.

“Im gonna take a shower! Cause some narcissist wanted to hog up the bathroom all morning!” Jon called walking up the stairs.

“Listen! When you have an amazing body like mine, it’s a crime not to look!” Jon heard Kon yell as he got to the second floor. Jon heard a chuckle and a sigh from his fathers office.

Jon showered and changed into black pants and a pressed denim shirt. He walked down the stairs toweling off his hair.

“Dawwww, don’t you look dapper, Baby Supe.” Kon crooned from the couch. Jon was about to thank him until Clark opened his mouth.

“Yeah, he and Louis went to the mall before she left for her conference. Picked out an outfit just for today.” Clark smirked, reading something on his laptop.

"Is this the shirt he got specifically that matches his eyes, so that Damian can get lost in Jon’s deep blue orbs?” Kon swooned dramatically, flopping down into Clarks lap. Jon could feel his face start burning.

“That would be the one.�� Clark grinned.

"Wow Kon. Going to poetry slams again?" Jon sassed back, hiding his reddening face with his towel. A pillow smacked him in the face. Jon snapped his head toward his smirking older brother.

"Boys." Clark drawled, not bothering to look up from the article he was reading.

“He started it.” Jon pouted.

“Tattle tale.” Kon grinned, blowing a small puff of air in his direction. The towel flew off Jon’s head and his hair was immediately dried.  

Jon leaped onto the couch. By no means was the thing big enough for three kryptonian men (well, two kryptonian men, and one adolescent.) but that didn’t stop the Kents. Jon was sat on Kons stomach and Kon was practically laying on top of Clark, who was smushed to the edge.

“How do you weigh so much, you’re so skinny!” Kon groaned from under him. Jon ignored him and started to channel surf. After about a minute of complaining, Kon noticed Jons foot bouncing up and down. He also noticed Jon unlocking his phone, checked the screen, then locked it again every thirty seconds.

“Psst.” Kon mock whispered to Clark. “I think he’s nervous.”

“Really? What gave you that assumption?” Clark asked in the same tone. Jon shifted to sit on Kons ribs.

“OW. YOUR BUTT IS SO BONY!”

Jon opened his mouth to give a smart ass reply until there was a knock at the door. Jon shot up from the couch, but Clark was faster.

“Hi Tim, how are you?” Clark smiled, opening the door wider to let him in. “Damian.” Clark said in a deeper, graver, tone.

“Clark.” Damians voice came from the other side of the door.

“Alright!” Jon exclaimed, pushing his father out of the way and grabbing the back of his older brothers shirt. “We’ll be going now! See you at 11!” Jon called over his shoulder, hauling his brother, his date, and his brothers date to the car.

“Woah! Wait a second!” Clark called, grabbing the back of Jons shirt.

“And we were almost to the car too.” Damian sighed under his breath.

“Don’t you think 11 is a little late?” Clark asked. His stern Dad face was on.

“No?” Jon asked in a hopeful voice, slowly turning on his puppy dog eyes. Clark gave Jon a skeptical look.

“Don’t worry Clark, they’re with us.” Tim smiled.

“Yeah, how much trouble can they get into with us hovering over their shoulders?” Kon grinned.

Clark sighed. “Fine, but I want you boys back here at 11. Not a minute later.” Kon and Jon mock saluted. Clark closed the door and the Super Brothers high fived.

Kon gave Tim a quick peck on the lips. “Ready to see me kick Jons butt and win you every prize there is at this shindig?”

“He fell out of the shower this morning and bumped his head. He must still be out of it.” Jon mock whispered to Tim. He heard Damian snort next to him and turned to give him a grin. The only thing that Jon could comprehend in that moment was how good Damian looked in normal clothes.

“You look great.” Jon blurted. He could feel his cheeks begin to burn.

“Thank you, you do as well.” Damian gave a small smile back, a small blush littering across his cheeks.

“Awwww, how about we get this show on the road, lovebirds?” Kon said, draping an arm around each boy.

Damian gave Kon a glare that screamed, ‘you’re lucky im trying to date your brother or you wouldnt have arms right now.’

Jons face just turned a deeper shade of red.

[vee-blackwell]

i got a bout of depression that hit tonight from not being distracted enough to avoid getting in my own head and i think i had too many bad thoughts about who i am VS family acceptance

my queer things, my interest things, my (lack of) set goals.

it hurt a lot to try and explain transgender things to my gramma while watching I Am Jazz, when talking about nonbinary people using “they/them” pronouns, she essentially said that if you dont use he/him or she/her then you have no gender “so you’re just nothing” which was just too close to home (literally) for me to hear as someone who doesnt feel anywhere close to any definition of gender, and am definitely not enough % to feel comfortable going on the male side of the binary.

that’s the hard part of that. it seems like it would be easier to tell her i’m bisexual or something (another term that doesnt really match me, but explaining asexuality or the differences between pansexual and bisexual self-identities is another thing thats hard to do with an 86 year old woman). but then what if it changes how she asks me about anyone i hang out with or makes weird assumptions about my relationships?

but at the same time, in watching this show with her, where she’s trying her best to be open-minded and learn about transgender people via watching I Am Jazz, she starts asking me to explain things in the show. not in a negative way, again, shes trying to understand which is more than i could hope for other 80+ year old grandparents. but then she asks me how i know so much about transgender people and issues they face when its things she doesnt expect people i know in real life, close to me, to have dealt with yet. and i have to play the “Educated Ally” instead of the “Depressed, Closeted Transperson” and hope she doesnt go from asking about my friends that are out to wondering about me. because it just makes me fearful of being in another time period of living in an abusive and unsupportive / negligent household where i never feel safe and im constantly arguing with my family. and i dont need that, or even to feel like im risking getting to that point again

i at least want to feel like i wouldnt be kicked out of the house and become homeless, or stop getting money from my family if i came out at all... but how many other transpeople had the same thoughts and were totally wrong? my mom who watched some of the show with us today almost immediately misgendered one of the transgirls on the show, talking about how **she (i dont want to misgender even by quoting my mom) clearly didnt have hormone blockers as long as Jazz because **her voice had changed. and it’s like, alright, she uses a feminine name, looks like any other normal high school girl, and has been working to try and get her voice to pass better, and it’s still so easy for ignorant people like my mom to pick up on that one thing they feel doesn’t fit right and just misgender someone immediately. and it’s worrisome. because i know how easy it is for “the average adult” around my mom’s age to miss the point entirely on how someone works to transition and making their own personal choices

...

im just queer and tired and fearful. my mind screaming at me “do SOMEthing” every time i wake up is like the echo of a broken record player that’s playing somewhere i can barely hear it. so i do something. i get a food. i grab a game. i grab my phone for games. i grab a video, or a game tutorial, or ANOTHER computer game, or i go on social media sites. and i do all these empty “SOMEthings” to mute the bad thoughts like the ones above. the ones that both overwhelm me into submission and also make me numb to any emotions.

i get bored of the phone game, the magickarp jump cooldown timers are all that’s left.

i get bored of harvest moon, after realizing that i was 1 floor away from the bottom of the mines last time i get frustrated. do i go back for it again and make the long boring trek, or do i go back to grinding cooking recipes so i can finally make that god damn tempura meal? each day passes as quickly or as stagnantly as i please thanks to my emulator. freeze time and do my daily farm chores, use the inventory item dupe glitch to keep stocked every gift item i need to give everyone, show everyone on the local islands my pets for bonus friendship points, unfreeze time so that the one fisherman character will finally show up to talk to and i give him his daily gift and show him my dog, i go fishing with frozen or unfrozen time as i choose. the day is done. time for the next one.

i get bored of the computer games that both tantalize me into playing them because i love them and want the mental stimulation, yet the other screens beckon to me stronger, and i sit on the 3 blue hellsites, toggling between them in mixed intervals.

i get bored of neopets, because it is after midnight and its the 3rd day in the row i forgot to do my dailies. god DAMMIT i’m never going to get trudy’s shitty 30 day bonus spin for those 100k neopoints if i keep this up. i go onto the help boards, and bump up the lottery board. copy and paste my old post, add the moneybag emoticon and congrats the winners. short list gives the UNs. long list gets generalized. the regular group of lottery players and bumpers congratulate and recognize each other, making the odd chat message about their lives. this is as far as i chat on the neoboards now because i have no social energy otherwise to talk to other neopets friends about how life is still depressing, and trying to speak around the child filters and character limits.

i go to my mom’s room, its hard to predict if she’ll be home at 5 pm or 8 pm or 11 pm or gone to her shitty boyfriend’s house. it had been GTA V. then crash bandicoot warped (ps3 port). and now skyrim with the DLC. i play it as i spend my life, there are markers telling me where i should go for quests to progress, yet i wander aimless around the world finding something more interesting to explore until i finally remember what i meant to do. my mom comes home, and i ask if she wants me to get out so she can sleep. she says its fine, and leaves the lamp on shining on her bed. it becomes after midnight, my gramma scolds me for staying in there when my mom is sleeping. while i agree, my hyperfocus is hard to break, and it still takes me more time than it should to simply save and quit in the middle of my doing nothing of importance in the game that i play for the middle of my doing nothing of important in my life.

i eat wherever i spend my activity. TV tray by my bed at all times now, my propel bottle sways like a top heavy asshole everytime its moved. the tissue box takes up space for food, but everytime i move it on my bed its either in the way or not close enough to use when i need it. my nose is still almost ready to bleed from the dry summer air. im still dehydrated because i lack the ability to remember to drink the juice, milk, or propel bottles within arms reach.

it’s 3 am, or probably later. i ask joey if it’s time to sleep. i take my melatonin, we both brush our teeth and say goodnight. am i lying to him again this night, and apologizing and saying i’ll do it for real? this could happen twice before the guilt takes over and i either cave and do it for real, or stay awake focused on my daily nothingness distractions.

on the days its 5 am or later, my mom wakes for work. we talk about the cat. we always talk about the cat. sometimes she says her work is shit and that shes in pain. things that are obvious. she leaves for work and says goodnight to me in the hopes i go to sleep soon.

i sleep. around 11 am to 1 pm is around the time i get woken for my medications. anxiety, depression, birth control pill (1 daily for 3 weeks at a time). i have to eat and drink with it, so its something simple. on bad days i fall back asleep for over an hour. like a sloth, i drag the tray of food to me, resting the plate or bowl on my bed to eat as i stay laying down. sitting up means i feel more obligated to stay awake after this. i finish the food, drink, and my pills, and shove the tray back against my closet, and lie back down in bed forcing myself to sleep.

it becomes anywhere from 3 pm to 5 pm, on bad days its 6 and later. i lay in bed after waking up maybe two or three other times from sweating, or tossing and turning with bad dreams or being awake enough that i could get up, but unmotivated or too depressed to get up and have to be awake for that much more time. i crawl to the computer first, turning off my nightly music and going online on steam. just so whoever cares knows im awake. i go adjust the thermostat as both i need as well as what wont freeze my gramma to death (or at least to complaining for hours). i say that i dont know what i want for food. she offers a suggestion, and i say sure. i return to my room until food is brought to me, and i grab juice or milk to have with my meal. it probably gets cold if it was meant to be eaten hot.

i get a food. i grab a game. i grab my phone for games. i grab a video, or a game tutorial, or ANOTHER computer game, or i go on social media sites. and i do all these empty “SOMEthings” to mute the bad thoughts like the ones above. the ones that both overwhelm me into submission and also make me numb to any emotions. the pattern repeats.

...

this has been Vee Life Simulator. sorry. no refunds.

[epphotoblog]

Where to start?

Alright, here goes.

Its been about a year and a half and nearing two years since I’ve toured alongside a band/group of musicians and tonight it has finally hit me after seeing a couple posts over the past couple days thanks to face book’s “on this day” feature and now more recently seeing a couple of my favorite bands announce their departure from touring. A lot of people know me for being a music photographer primarily because I used to photograph it so much, even while I was in high school I used to do it almost every day and continued to do so for years after I graduated. Nowadays, I legitimately can’t remember the last time I photographed a show at the top of my head…which honestly kind of bums me out to even think about. I stopped doing something I fell in love with almost entirely out of the blue.

The honest truth now, is that I’m scared to do so, why? out of fear and judgement that my work won’t be good enough since I haven’t done it in so long and because I feel I’ve become dated compared to all the new faces that have arisen over the past couple years. For two years and a half I felt like I was on top of the world because I was touring with some of my favorite people and doing what I loved even though it was with small time artists and wasn’t making too much money…a lot of people have been asking me why I stopped doing so.

So this is to answer that question.

Right after my last tour in 2015, my mother got sick and I wasn’t in the position to leave again for another tour knowing I wouldn’t be able to help out financially.  (The only family I have is my mom, whom has raised me all by herself [bastard child from an undocumented immigrant mom] ) A little more back story to this is that we had been living paycheck to paycheck for a couple years back then and this was a huge blow to us both financially and emotionally… So the fact that I had been touring for that time frame astonished me because I had money saved up and was helping her throughout the time I was touring and she even helped me once whilst I was out.

But anyways, I digress… Ended up selling my camera gear and I gave the money I had and left over saved funds to help pay her medical bills and knew I wasn’t going to be able to freelance work because if any of you Freelance workers know, you gotta have some money and invest money to make money. I ended up getting a warehouse labor job with the help from a dear friend of mine. I worked there for about 6 months, I can honestly say I hated every single day I was there…though my coworkers I had we’re some of the nicest people I have had the pleasure of meeting and still keep in touch with them when we have time.

On average we worked about 50-60 hours a week, 10-11 hour shifts 6 days a week, rarely did we do 8 hour shifts. It was there when I noticed my mind really was going in the wrong direction… I started having suicidal thoughts after seeing that the situation I was in wasn’t going to get any better and wasn’t happy about life. A couple people kept me afloat but I remember the few times I had hung out with some friends they would say that I didn’t look good. Its crazy how something can affect someone so much even when there’s so many worse things happening elsewhere but it did…. I never believed in depression or stuff like that and joked about it (and still do at times) until it happened to me. My first tour was when I was 18, I stopped at 20, almost 21 years old and it hit me that life can be so strange and you don’t know when things can go wrong.

Nearing my 7 months at the job, I had saved up my money, my moms health surprisingly got better after being told that it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon and knew if I didn’t get out of the job I’d make a decision that I wouldn’t be able to regret. I was going to attempt to go back to shooting full time and decided to buy some gear to get back into it.

I remember the day I purchased my camera I have now… I was listening to Vanna, a band from Boston whom some of you know and whom I had the pleasure of touring alongside. Davey, the vocalist… I remember having a conversation one night with him at a Cookout somewhere on the east coast after a show. He talked about his past and why he did what he did and why its important to have something you’re passionate about no matter what it is…. I didn’t think much of it when we had the conversation since but it was the first time I had talked to him for more than 5 minutes at a time and it ended up ringing back and made a huge impact on my mindset when I needed it to. I hadn’t listened to his band prior to this tour nor met any of them and that night I formed a newfound respect for Davey… and (if you read this man, I miss you and hope to see you sometime soon) The day I held my new camera, I remembered the very day I knew I had fallen into something truly special and why I fell in love with a camera…a tour I did with SECRETS. The day we went to New York on a day off… I had dreamed of seeing it but never knew a camera would’ve paved the way for the opportunity to do so and meet some of the best people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. Even though it was nothing new to the guys, it was brand new for me and I remember gazing at the cityscape as soon as we got out of the tunnel and I held back tears cause I didn’t want to be judged… It was such a pivotal moment in my mind cause I’ve always been dirt poor and never would’ve been able to afford doing any of this on my own but because I worked hard for years and built relationships with a camera, I did it… at the time they didn’t know this but I was emotional as hell the whole day. ( I could go on forever about some of the things that happened throughout those couple of years but thats for another time) Cam Birchill, whom also has played a key role… He’s always been so supportive since I met him. Forced me to talk when I wouldnt want to and taught me a lot about what goes in in the touring world. I never ended up taking a photo of the night he locked me in the back of the back of the warped tour bus, gave me a drink and just talked about random bs but I wish I did cause since then he’s become one of the people I have an enormous amount of respect towards not only in terms of business but also as a friend…Another key moment was getting to know a little more about Jonny Craig as a person whilst grabbing coffee with him and walking around the tour stops. I learned not to judge a book by its cover and actually converse and be human beings…it was someone I had a lot respect towards despite his past. I got to meet and get to know more because of a camera…something that otherwise would’ve probably never would’ve happened. I will forever cherish the little moments that a little lightbox has allowed me to experience no matter how insignificant it may be to the other person, it means something to me, you have to take it all in and see the beauty of just living.

Now, onto the past year and a half.

1 week after not working at the warehouse job, I got a small studio/office space with the help from a friend whom I now consider a crazy older brother Tyson. I knew I had to move fast and get business going, I hadn’t touched a camera in months and had to get the ball rolling. I turned 21, 2 weeks after getting the studio. It was time to live again… a month passes by and a week after my moms birthday she ends up having more health issues so I gave her the last of my money again but decided to keep shooting.

I couldn’t go back to what I was doing.

The past year and a half I have been shooting freelance work and I won’t lie, its been tough at times. Budgeting has become integrated into my blood. I’ve been able to help pay rent at home, rent at my studio and rarely have some money to spend on myself… a couple of dear friends of mine have helped me when I’ve needed help and never question me about it…and for that I owe them my life and more. I’ve been more involved with helping my community and local area and I have built such a strong support system/family and I’m eternally grateful. I want to get back into photographing music when I’m ready… I have been offered some tours and I’ve turned down some because of all the issues that have been going on and some have just simply fallen through for some reason or another but I’m grateful that some people still love my work from before.

I had a very close friend of mine have a drink with me the other night and it was interesting, I met her 7 years ago when I got my first “real” camera and has seen my growth over the years. I had some Jazz playing in the background and she said she was proud of me for not giving up and actually staying true to my word since I picked up a camera. Something that a lot of people around have done with photography.

I’ve met so many great people because of this thing we call a camera… I haven’t seen so many of you in so long and I miss you dearly but I’m sure I’ll see you soon and take your photo as per usual and maybe have a drink together.

If you stuck around and read this, I thank you and love you. It was emotionally draining writing about this while still censoring most of it all to keep it as short as possible. Sorry about the rambling. I don’t write much.