look at the second to last guitar on the left


Chapter 7- Responsibilities

Jon pushed the case onto his mother’s bed. It was weird how heavy her case was.

He opened the case up to find a shit ton of bottles.

“For fuck sakes.” He mumbled, getting them out and popping them onto the floor. He took her clothing out and dumped them into her nearly full washing basket making a mental note to go to the laundry place down the road. At the bottom of the suitcase was a load of cleaning products which he also took out and a handful of cash which he placed onto her nightstand.

His mum was a cleaner, hence her taking his door a few years back. The houses she cleaned being tidier than the one she lived in.
Jon had questioned her career though after clearing many of her suitcases after she had left them unpacked to find unanswerable things such as stacks of money and skimpy clothing.

She did what she had to to get by.

Jon came down with the 5 bottles in his hands and under his arms, his mother glaring at him awkwardly.

“I’m just putting this in the fridge ma. You don’t have to be all wishy washy with me.” Jon stated, keeping eye contact. She smiled weakly back at him before getting up.

“I’ll leave you guys in peace. Tell me if you need anything Evan.”

He nodded slightly, watching Jon who was watching his mum climb slowly up the stairs, sighing when she was out of sight.

“She’s changed.”

Jon hummed in agreement, turning to face Evan who was leaning on the counter. His muscular arms were wrapped around his chest as he watch Jon’s eyes. It wasn’t a weird awkward silence Evan tended to cause with others, no, Jon was different.

“I just don’t want to turn out like her, wallowed in self-pity all the damn time with a shit job and a shit house.”

“And you won’t Jo.”

“You don’t know that.” Jon sighed, now coming to cross his arms too. “I’m already failing school. If I don’t start doing something soon I’ll be kicked out.”

“Kicked out? But you work, you’re giving something. It’s not like you’re one of these ungrateful kids that launder money of their parents without a care, who don’t earn what they have.”

Jon huffed, the cogs working in his brain. His voice coming out in a harsh whisper “My ma hates me here.”

“What, why?”

“Because I get angry with her. I don’t feel empathy for her like I use too. I can’t feel empathy for her. I’ve done everything for her. I do all the chores and I even pay the bills when she blows her money on shit she wants and she still doesn’t do anything, she still wants me out the house now I’m 18 so she can sell it and live on people’s couches and fuck them for money. Without me here she can do what she pleases without worrying about her children getting in the way. That’s why my sister moved out. Because mom doesn’t want anything to do with us anymore.”

Evan huffed in annoyance.

“It’s not your responsibility to deal with this shit Jo, I know now we’re older we have so much to think about, but I don’t think worrying about your financial support and mother’s health should be one yet, that’s not fair on you.”

“Life’s unfair.” Jon stated factually, shrugging. “It’s better than being homeless, well, I might be if I don’t pass this year, which I didn’t.”

“Jo. You don’t know that. You’re clever.”

“Not that you know this, but I failed every single test I revised at least 3 hour each for this year. When I took the final year exam I only answered 9 of the 30 questions. Don’t you see Ev? I’m not just saying it like everyone else does. I’m not saying it like a ‘D’ or even an ‘E’ is a fail. I’m saying it as like, not even passing. At all. You know that when you were here I only just scraped past the last few years and since you’ve gone and things of got harder, home and school wise, I can’t even get an ‘F’. So yeah, I’m probably going to end up in prostitution or something.”

Evan cringed, he slid along the counter to stand closer to Jon. Jon frowned at him slightly, but smiled. It was that fake smile that Evan hated. The one he’d do if he was thinking in self-doubt, the smile he’d hide behind whilst his head exploded to insure nobody knew his true emotions, nobody knew him.

“You know I wouldn’t let that happen, right? If your mom kicks you out or you go into some dodgy job just to get some extra cash then you realise I’m going to help out, yeah? I’ll let you share my bedroom or give you money or something. Just promise me you won’t push me away and not tell me.”

Jon bit down hard on his lip, meeting the honey eyes of his best friend. There was no way he was going to drag Evan into his problems. They were his. Evan didn’t need extra responsibility just because he had chosen the wrong friend to be close with.

“Ev I can’t-can’t promise anything.”

“Why? Jo, you’re my best friend. I want to help you if you’re in trouble.”

“Well, say if I don’t want help though?”

Evan frown.

“I don’t care if you want it. I’m going to help you for my selfish need of making sure my best friend is going to be okay.”

Jon looked towards the floor, his hands wrapped around one another. He knew there was no way of arguing back. When Evan was set on something, he was going to do it no matter what.

“You can be a stubborn bitch sometimes.” Evan mumbled, playing with a penny left on the counter. “But so can I.”

Jon snorted, watching Evan spin the coin.

“I know, thanks.”

A grin fell onto Evan’s face, meeting Jon’s ocean blue eyes.

“I know.”

They both carried a big bag each down to the launderettes in town. Evan had never been to one before and wondered how Jon even managed to carry of all these clothes by himself.

“Could you separate them for me?” Jon asked. Evan looked at him in confusion.

“The colours you tit. The blacks from the whites and shit.”

“Oh right.” Evan mumbled, it was weird doing such a domestic thing without some parent nearby. He was still living with his able parents so he had no idea how any of this worked. It wasn’t that he was lazy- okay he was a little lazy- but his parents just never asked him or taught him.

Jon chuckled to himself. It was hilarious watching Evan try to figure out the colours. He was putting them into rainbow formation, and it was adorable.

“You do realise you can keep the coloured ones together.”

“But you told me to separate them! You can’t tell me to do one thing and it not be that.”

Jon laughed harder.

“You’re such a pampered bitch. Wait till you go to uni, you’ll have to learn all this shit.”

Evan rolled his eyes.

“I might have to take you with me then.”

Jon paused for a second. He wished Evan wasn’t joking. He would love to come with him across the country and live with him. But, he still had to finish school. He knew without school he’d turn like his mum, and he really didn’t want to get stuck there. He wanted to be just as successful as the rest of his mates, even if it meant it would take him 2 years longer.

“Wanna go grab something to eat?”

I was about 6pm, but they were both hungry anyway after not eating much of whatever Ryan had cooked, God’s knows what it really was.

Evan nodded as they both walked down towards the McDonald’s near the main street.

They brushed lightly against each other as they talked about, just, stuff. It wasn’t anything special. It was normally the ideas that Jon was having and Evan trying to make sense of whatever idea that was, and skits, they loved making skits together from the ideas they’d make up. Yeah, it may have seemed childish to talk about shit like how it would be funny if terminator got hit by a car and died crossing a road somehow. But that’s why they were best friends, because they loved talking about nothing but random ideas and skits. It helped them take their minds off of all the responsibilities they had.

Jon watched Evan eat slowly across from him. He still couldn’t get his head around the fact he was here, in front of him, eating the shit out of a double cheeseburger.

“This is so damn weird Evan.” Jon muttered, smiling slightly. The habit had started to come back again.

“What is?” Evan questioned, trying to catch a falling drip of sauce from his lips and failing.

“You being here, looking like an idiot I swear it.”

“You know like, what-ever” Evan said, clearly pouting as he put on the childish accent.

Jon laughed, pointing to his own chin to signal the spill Evan had left.

He quickly wiped at it, causing Jon to roll his eyes.

“Let me get it you damn man.” Jon got a tissue from the bag and leaned over the table, dabbing the spot from his chin. “I told you you were a pampered bitch.”

“No.” Evan replied, grinning. “Why would you think that?”

Jon snorted in reply, now biting into his burger. He wanted Evan to never leave him again.

They went back to the launderettes to grab the clothing and lunged it between them back up the hill and into Jon house.
They came back to a quiet house as Jon’s mum has disappeared back to where ever she spent her paycheck. They dumped the laundry into each room, ready to be put away.

Evan was about to start unloading it when Jon touched his arm lightly.

“Let’s do it later Ev. We deserve a damn rest.” He laughed, bringing Evan to sit on his bed with him.

“What do you wanna do to chill off? It’s only like 8 and I’m tired as shit.”

“Hm,” Evan sat in thought, his eyes scanning the tanned face before him. “Do you still play the guitar?”

“Yeah man, do you?”

“Of course. Where is it?”

Jon looked around his room, trying to find any hints of where he had placed it last.

“I think I left it near my push bike, let me get it a second.”

Jon ran down the stairs, going into the garage where he stored his bike. He couldn’t afford a car and even if he could there wasn’t any point, he lived close to everything he needed and Luke was always up for giving him a lift places to show off his car.

He found the old thing tucked behind a box to keep it safe.

“Oh dude it looks older than I remember it.” Evan stated as he handed it to him.

“It’s cuz I use it so much, it’s missing a damn sting too… I’ve rocked this old boy into its grave. I’m too poor to get a new one. But I’m saving.” He laughed, coming to sit next to Evan who plucked the strings.

They were all still in tune as Jon had kept it so, but the missing sting was annoying Evan.

“Just pretend it’s there.” Jon mumbled when he saw Evan frown in annoyance.

“My imagination doesn’t stem as far as yours Jo, I like hearing it.”

Jon rolled his eyes, taking the guitar from Evan. He began to play an unfamiliar tune as he made it up on the spot, missing out the C string he no longer had.

Evan giggled as he watched him play, it was so bad it had Evan almost in tears by the end.

“I know children with better rhythm than you.”

Jon pouted, glaring.

“Shut your rolls, tried my hardest, ya know, and it was damn beautiful!”

Evan bashed into him, laughing as he got jabbed by the neck of the guitar.

“Well this is no use, I wanted to teach you a song but I can’t now.”

Jon huffed, putting his guitar down. It used to be Evan’s before he bought a new one around 6 years ago and Jon never had the heart to get rid of it completely.

Evan pulled out his phone from his back pocket.

“You know that deep meaningful conversation we had earlier.”


“I mean it, you know.”

Jon frowned at him, wondering why he had brought up such a conversation now. He scanned his face, not getting a lot of information before Evan turned to him.

“Black or beige?”

“Excuse me?”

“Black or beige Jonathan. Just pick one.”



“Black. Why?”

Evan shut his phone off, his grin a cheeky one.

“Someone likes the big D.”

“What do you me… EVAN THAT’S DAMN GROSS.”

Evan started to laugh hard, watching Jon chuckle, his cheeks flushed pink.

Jon looked so happy, and Evan found himself wanting to do anything to keep that smile planted on his face for the rest of time.

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10691808/chapters/23916486

Here’s the thing sometimes, man.


I know my bones are strong and filled with deep red, pumping newborn blood out into my body to make me strong, to fill up a sea inside my veins, but sometimes, looking at the latticed structure of yellow-ish white, it feels like I’m held up with lace, twisting and not tearing, and in some way made by my great grandmother. I feel gross and crude and delicate at the same time, skeleton awkwardly coated in connective tissue, or draped in gauze. I remember the moment I learned to read, I remember realizing that nothing is forever and that time matters, and it was set to the tune of a Beach Boys song. I remember seeing a family member step uncertainly out of the house to tell me my aunt died, I remember thinking that it looked like the house died in that same moment, like that unsteady exit was a last breath. When I first left home, a drifting piece of wreckage, I sat for almost months in my room, barely ever leaving the jail cell confines of my bed, strumming the single chord on the guitar that made it feel like my insides were moving in concert with each other, the only sound that brought my head back together for a second, in stillness. I look at peoples’ faces when I make them laugh and feel the only type of affirmation that still feels good. I love my family, I love them fiercely and protectively and in ways that try to let them love each other more easily. When I sing, it feels like I never need to eat or drink anything ever again, because it fills up my entire body and sits in my throat like pure satisfaction. In my work, I coax pain out of peoples’ bodies, I root them back in themselves, they breathe in on a wince and exhale straight to easy sleep before they even realize they feel better, safer, sound. The English language feels like green growing things that I can weave together into perfect, pale, dying, drying art that you leave hanging above the kitchen sink. I feel all of these things at once, these are things that make up my foundation, these are the things that are really, truly who I am.


But I spend like 40% of every day thinking about my weight.

You Might Be A Keeper Pt.5 *Psycho!Michael*


*btw kind of a filler bc its 2am and i have no motivation rn*

You came to in a different room. The walls weren’t white, you weren’t in a sitting position either. You were laying flat on your back. Arms and legs held down. You opened your eyes and took in your surroundings. The walls were red and black stripes vertically painted on each of the four walls. The walls were donned with various posters of rock bands and video games. One that caught your eye was one of a band called; 5 Seconds of Summer. It wasn’t an official poster, it looked like a homemade one promoting a small time gig. What was so odd about it was the boy who had taken you captive was on the poster. He was on the left with an electric guitar in his hands. There were three other boys posing with him, one other guitarist and from your very little music knowledge, looked like a bassist, the last was a drummer. The poster was dated just before some of the murders began. The poster also contained their names under their photos. Without your glasses or contacts you couldn’t read very far, but you managed with a strong squint. You made out his name to be Michael. For as much as you could lift your head up, you looked around the large room you were stuck in. It was a mess to say the least. Clothes and candy wrappers were strewn about and your inner clean freak fought hard not to scream out for him to clean up his mess. The door handle jiggled around and you dropped your head back down onto the pillow. You closed your eyes, pretending to still be asleep. You heard heavy footsteps enter the room, along with the door closing behind him. “I know you’re awake. Don’t play games.” He didn’t sound amused as you opened your eyes. His hair was different, it was now a bright red. He was dressed in all black, even the backpack he carried was all black. “What do you want from me?” You found your voice as he slowly approached you. He sat down down next to you, the bed dipping slightly with his weight. He didn’t answer you, just moved his hand to your face. He moved stray hairs out of your vision and let his hand caress your cheek. His hand was freezing cold, just as his heart was. “I have big plans for you.” His eyes were dark, clouded with a shroud of evil and mystery. “Your leg is healing good.” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, you were just stabbed yesterday there was no way it was healing already. “No, you stabbed me last night. There is no healing right now.” He laughed and removed his hand from your face. “You silly girl. First, I didn’t stab you. I was having some harmless fun. Second, you’ve been here for quite some time. I’ve had you heavily medicated, an induced coma, if you will.” He gestured his arms towards your thigh, and you gasped at what you saw. Your wound, while still there and very noticeable, was clean and healing in a healthy manner. “How long have I been here?” Your eyes were watering with tears threatening to over flow at any second. “Exactly one month and three days. You were big news for a few days. But, after about a week no one cared anymore. They said you were just a young girl who couldn’t handle the pressures of a big city news job anymore. I found it to be quite fascinating. How someone like you could be forgotten so easily.” You took in this new information. No one was looking for you anymore. They were never really looking for you, you were stuck in this hell hole until he decides to kill you. “Someone like me?” You choked out. You didn’t want to cry in front of him but with each piece he divulges it takes you to the brink once more. “Someone who is so beautiful. Do you know the saying; no one cares unless you’re pretty or dying?” You nodded your head for him to continue. “You’re both, love. You have this aura of natural beauty. But, at the same time I will eventually kill you.” That pushed the fat tears over your eyelids to run down your cheeks. You didn’t want to die, you were far too young. You haven’t done much of anything with your life except a shitty intern job. This was not how you envisioned yourself leaving this world. Michael quickly ran back to his previous spot on the bed. “Please don’t cry. Baby, don’t do that.” He wiped away your tears and rested his head in the crook of your neck. His hot breath fanned over the exposed skin as he placed soft kisses just below your ear. You choked backed a sob and did your best to contain your emotions. “Please don’t kill me.” You begged to the crazed man hovering above you. He gave you a soft smile, “Oh but I have to. You’re too good for this world, I have to take you away before they damage you too.” Whimpers escaped your lips, his eyes met yours and then within a few seconds he placed his cold, chapped lips onto yours. You tried to pull away but he grabbed your face and roughly pulled you back towards him. He deepened the kiss as you gave up resisting. He pulled back gasping for air, “I’m definitely keeping you around for a while.” He gave one more chaste kiss to your lips.
well this sucks but im tired
part 6?