just got this comment on a 4 month old fic and do my readers think i am dead
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Whumpee liked many things about Caretaker.
They had a soft, kind voice, with soft kind hands, and even softer, kinder eyes.
They laughed a lot, and made him laugh too, and didn’t seem to notice when he laughed too long or too loudly or too gracelessly.
They gave him food, nice things, and clothes that fit, and a bed (a real bed, just for them!), but… There was one thing in particular that Whumpee liked the most.
See, Whumpee had never needed to be broken. They’d never dare intentionally step out of line, not even in their wildest dreams or most terrifying nightmares. But, they were flawed. Deeply. And made many mistakes.
But, where Whumper had attributed those mistakes to malice, Caretaker merely corrected him, forgave him, helped him.
He remembered fondly (oh how strange to remember anything fondly) the day Caretaker first brought him home. He had tripped over the edge of the welcome mat, and fell hard, knocking the coat rack down with him.
He had been braced for blows, or at best the yelling and screaming that always reduced him to tears, but, instead, Caretaker had crouched down and asked if he was okay. He had stared, blankly (stupidly), at them, covered in coats and scarves, until Caretaker had moved to help him. He’d flinched, and Caretaker still hadn’t struck him. Instead, they offered a hand, and helped him up.
Caretaker smiled, awkward and toothy and more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen, and apologized, (apologized, to him, of all things!) making a little joke about how welcome mat wasn’t very welcoming.
Whumpee had stared for a moment more, still braced for this all to be a trick. Then, it was like something inside him broke, like a rubber band snapping, and he laughed. He’d laughed, hysterical and ugly, till tears came to his eyes, and then couldn’t stop them.
He’d begged through tears that he was sorry, that he was trying to be good (an old habit that had still never died, despite having every reason to), but Caretaker still didn’t raise a hand against him.
He didn’t remember all the details, after that, only that Caretaker had brought him into the kitchen, and given him a mug of something warm and sweet, and sat down across from him. And had let him cry, only interrupting to assure him that he was not in trouble and to hand him a tissue.
Yes, Whumpee liked many things about Caretaker. Their heart most of all.
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Reasons why my town could be a cryptidcore town:
Already plenty of ghost stories, several of which are downtown by the waterfront alone.
My own house is 230+ years old and haunted by a little girl, there’s another house on my street that I think is around 300 years old.
Said ~300 year old house is owned by a woman who hosts a knitting club. There are constantly cars in her driveway. It’s a super old house. My sister and I are of the firm belief that she leads a knitting coven of witches.
There’s a creepy (and also super racist and misogynistic) cult that lives within walking distance of my house and also owns a store and deli downtown. They have tried to kidnap people.
Old buildings in general, just—everywhere.
Somewhere along the highway you can see an armchair sitting in the woods facing the road. No idea when, how, or why it was placed there.
The local mall is still functioning, but it’s so empty all the time that it’s practically abandoned.
Dunkins EVERYWHERE. Which is not at all abnormal for my area, but I work at one and it’s utter chaos. Things break ALL. THE. TIME. It has to be paranormal interference at this point. The dumpster out back is near a copse of trees and feels super creepy, especially at night in the pitch darkness.
There’s this one shop in the mall I went into over the summer with some friends. I had been to the mall less than a week before, and that shop had NOT been there. Then the owner started talking to us about the Johnny Depp trial like it was recent news. At that point in time it was not recent news. The next time I visited the mall that shop was in a completely different place than last time.
Seriously being in the mall late at night or very early in the morning is like a liminal space I swear to god.
There’s an antique store that used to contain a painting that gave me weird vibes and made the entire room it was in feel haunted.
When I was little I saw a crow in my front yard that to this very day I swear on my life was the size of a turkey. I never saw it again. Nobody believes me.
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