torn sweaters


You heard a crackling sound coming from one of the rooms down the dark windy hall. Some of the windows weren’t able to shut, so you guys had to live with the cold. You weren’t in the kind of clothes that someone would wear in 50 to 40 degrees. You had on a torn up sweater and a ripped skirt, and you didn’t have any shoes. You were barefoot, and there was glass and needles all around on the floor. You guys were hiding from the dread doctors. They ended up being stronger than you guys thought. The nogitsune wasn’t apart in the fight. In fact he refused to join.

You tip toed to the room where the small crack between the hall and room. But there was also a shadow in between the light that came though the crack of the door. You stood directly behind the door and you wrapped your hand over the handle of the door. You took in a few breathes and opened the door.

You expected something else. There could have been the dread doctors looking around in the library looking for books that hold many witch and banshee spells. But no, it was someone who we never thought would stay with you all.

“Why are you here? Don’t you have some chaos to create around town?” You said. You were instantly annoyed just by his presence. The nogitsune always had a spot in her heart, and it was leaving burn marks all over it.

He killed Allison; one of your best friends.

“Can’t a demon spirit have alone time in the library, trying to be useful, and also trying to keep calm?” He said. His voice almost included a growl in his throat.

“Wouldn’t chaos and murder satisfy your hunger; all the pain and agony you get from it?” You walked down the couple shiny wooden steps.

“Aren’t you supposed to push me out of the room and give me a warning?”

The nogitsune laughed as he turned the page in the torn up book.

“I know, you think I’m a complete asshole, but maybe, like every human being, you should get to learn a little bit about me ;the person who isn’t busy with chaos and death. Yes, (Y/N), I actually have a heart sometimes. But once I open up to someone, they leave and order hunters to come and try to kill me.”

You stare at him and walked around him to look at the books. The library had to be at least 100 years old. It’s all dusty, covered with spider webs, and some of the pages of the books were ripped out.

“You should go back to bed. I’ll probably find a spell to at least lock them into something. We can try and lock them into one of the solitary confinement cells.” He explained

“Well I finally, broke that shell you covered your heart with.” You smiled and sat next to him. “Don’t get used to it.” He warned.

I think i figured it out!!!

These Three men. Jeremy, i can hang with and fuck shit up. Like ride around in a Lambo with The Who blasting, good times. 

Richard, riding around on one of his bikes, cursing people off, going to bars. Drinks, dancing, good times. 

JAMES. James…. um…. all i see is a fireplace, a garage, power tools, wine, torn sweaters… fuck my life. 

autism aesthetic: 

  • a glowing, grinning face illuminated by stage lights at a favorite band’s concert– hands flapping out of rhythm to the songs– feet tapping out perfect time. 
  • a closed mouth, a blank face, a cold stare– nothing is wrong. everything is just right.  the light looks beautiful filtering through the leaves in the trees, it’s quiet, it’s warm. 
  • a bookshelf full of finished books, all of one series. the spines on all of them are well-worn, the pages are yellow and stained and smell like home, like happiness. they are loved, and loved again, and loved again, each time by the same owner, each time in a deeper way.
  • a single song on repeat, each time the beat moves in a different way, each time the lyrics mean something new, each time the voice singing along gets louder. 
  • a familiar sweater with torn up sleeves inching over the wrist, pilling lining, faded words over bright color. it’s well past it’s prime, but the thread stays bound together. 


“…do you happen to have any experience with sewing? apologies for asking out of the blue- my sweater’s torn and it’s bothering me.” rosa’s the first person that he notices out of the corner of his eye, and she seems knowledgeable about this sort of thing…right? “of course, i would do it myself, but perhaps we can make it look a little bit nicer, together.”