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sigmas-lover · 18 days ago

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I JUST HAD TO WRITE SOMETHING SOMETIME 🫡 they make me crazy … !!! YPUR WELCOME !!!! IT WAS MY PLEASURE AND HAPPY PRIIIIIDE GRAAAAAAAAA

sunburnt skin, bones laid bare

A BTTWNS/House Guest fanfic fanfic by @sigmas-lover! Holy shit, I WOKE UP to this, and I've had all luchtime cooking to let this simmer (hehehe), so if you would allow me to steal your format of fic reviewing and rambling, here we go!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read this fic! I'd situate it in after the bed fic, around summer 1988, when they begin to be a lot more loose with each other.

As far as first impressions had gone, the family was fairly odd at first to say the least. While Sam wouldn’t exactly categorize them binarily—a father, a mother; eldest, middle and youngest child—but she could pinpoint that the short fox leading the family and telling them what they’ll be doing and where they’ll be going was, what most would consider, the head of the family.

Like a tourist on foreign soil, one recognizes his own kind, maybe not at a first glance but upon further inspection. So much so Hua later on- but even outside Woodbrook is it rare to see this kind of family arrangement. They pass and they can slip among the crowd, but in Woodbrook where everything is visible, they stand out even as strangers.

She chalked it up as a personal issue, yet another problem stemming from her inability to understand human connections. Maybe his overwhelming personality had left her a little lost and frustrated. Maybe she just didn’t like how he seemed intent on prying her open without making it obvious, leaving her paranoid if that was his motive all along.

That and the cultural shift Woodbrook is silently in the transitionary phase in. Colder. Yes, Sam has always been dethatched but she's warm and almost welcoming in it, and she has her own complex system of expressing her emotions...but normally she'd be okay holding these conversations (Nigel may have been like this, so curious and so prying when he was younger), but that paranoia of being followed and observed under a microscope again...she's closing in like everybody else.

“Don’t they, you know,” her kitty had said, her lips an awkward mix of a smile and a frown, “sort of remind you of those mean girls in high school…?” [...] And true it was. What Sam had thought were playful schoolgirl giggles after bumping into one of the residents of Woodbrook—young or old—turned out to seem more and more malicious the longer she took notice of their mannerisms. She didn’t like deploying extra attention onto people of no interest, but she had wanted to confirm or deny her girlfriend’s claims, and found herself noticing the way the hare and fox would exchange snideful remarks behind people’s backs. But not in ways that are superficial or shallow. They took great pleasure in dissecting the people they meet, took great pleasure making fun of their personality based on truth or presumptions. Sam was roughly reminded of their chattier father. Felt a little sour afterwards, then stopped paying attention to them as a whole after that.

Thank you so much for this added bit. I am very familiar with the characters Mei and Gui are based on (especially Asuka), and fictional mean little girls will sometimes have the grace of making them people and not just caricatures but. In real life, bullies are just going to be faces and not people with written goals and arcs in mind. Maybe you yourself can hold that grace, oh they're people too, but memory is stronger than imagination. Julianne is kind but she's not very patient. She's especially cautious of girls like her because of her own experiences. If it weren't for her guilt killing Eres, her instability would have led her to seriously hurting people who act in such a way; but she's a part time teacher now. And the person she used to be before "Julianne Lucky" is gone.

When Julianne points something out to Sam, she begins to unconsciously notice. Like Julianne has the magic to make her suddenly remember things: the pinks of a sunset, the name of the stars, Filipino phrases and words, etc. Something like this would go unnoticed normally since Sam's primary problem here is Min. Then again, it worries Julianne, and that's a good enough reason to care.

There’s not much the bear can do with this sort of information except use it in passing conversation to show that she had been paying attention, a secret code that regular people use to show they care. But considering the family will only be here for a singular summer—Minru mentioned it earlier—Sam sees no point in remembering it. However, she retains the information anyway, and ends up relaying it back to her girlfriend, whom Sam knows will definitely love hearing about this. And love she did. Sam finds herself amused by how Julianne giggles about it.

WELL THERE HAS TO AT LEAST BE ONE REASON, RIGHT? giggles

If Sam could, she’d compile together a manual, a step-by-step guide, on how to love someone. She’d write down all the “right” behaviors, all the “right” actions, all the things she could do to show her girlfriend how much she loves her—even if, to some capacity, she can’t. But she wants to, that’s why if she could, she would. She doesn’t. (Because that would be strange, wouldn’t it? Her girlfriend is not an experiment to be analyzed in such a way. Documented, studied.) Still, Sam has a general guideline on how relationships should work, all up in her head like muscle memory, no different from the methodical drag of her tools across various materials—soft and hard. This is how you show you love, this is how you show you care. Play nice, play gentle, play sweet and play...

She dismisses it as nothing important and instead focuses on the fact the act between the couple seemed extremely odd. Sam wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing to Julianne, and it isn’t in her kitty’s nature to be like that either. Perhaps they were more prone to playful quarrels, shallow and for the sake of fun, but that had been neither playful nor fun of Ida to do. So she concludes that they probably don’t love each other.

Again on the topic of love and how Sam views it in general...the thing is she knows what it is intellectually, but never really experienced it in the capacity to know what is healthy and what is good enough or if she even experienced it at all. She had her two families- her blood family then Nigel and Lola. In a town like Woodbrook, love is only defined by strict appearances and guidelines in which to express it, you see it on the streets, you read it in books, watch it in the movies, and maybe that appearance had become so bland and uneventful or uninteresting to her but it's the only expression of love she knows and struggles to show convincingly to Julianne. Then here's an odd couple who do things so differently that Sam immediately comes to the conclusion they don't love each other- how can you do that to the person you love? is a question she asks others (and herself) after Lola's death. The memory of her mother glides over her and she needs to project it on others before she can answer the question herself.

...but when her eyes gloss over the two adults, she catches the way Minru has one of his hand over Ida’s, thumb rubbing slow circles over her knuckles. There’s a smile on her lips she hides behind her burger, but he knows it’s there because he smiles back. She recognizes this softness because she’s seen it before—pattern recognition—and she finds herself a little confused. How could they act that way when not long ago they had been so rough? This story, she holds it a little closer to her heart—for further studying—and doesn’t tell Julianne when she gets home.

But they do, Sam.

“No, I mean really ask.” Minru leans a bit closer with a fanged smile, and Sam is starting to understand why Ida had been so stern with him that day. “Your history with him. Why did he frame you of all people? From what I understand, you were his mother’s friend? He frames you then kills his own mother, really? Then kills himself out of guilt?” Sam’s mouth hangs open, then clicks shut, and this time she musters the energy to be actually mad, “I don’t appreciate these invasive questions. I don’t appreciate you prying into my life like this.” “Is that a ‘no comment’ then?” he smiles, coy and knowing, and before Sam can try anything, someone else enters her store.

DON'T ASK HER THAT MIN, SHE'S FINE NOW, AND LOLA IS STILL ALIVE AND LIVING WITH HER.👍👍👍👍👍

Ida stands with her arms folded and foot tapping, all three of her children behind her back like a line of ducklings. Her eyes have narrowed into slits at her husband, before softening them at Sam, “Sorry for his behavior.”

The imagery of this is so funny. I liked picturing this a lot.

“He asked me what it’s like moving here far from home,” she hums with a smile. “Then we had a nice conversation about you. You know, I’ve always wanted to gush about us… But I could never find the right people, and I’m really glad he was super interested!”

Hahahaha maybe this is a Filipino thing but we just can't help but overshare to people we just feel...safer with. Julianne is aware it isn't safe to be so loud about her relationship in this climate but she just has nothing but good things to say about Sam. It's just in her nature.

He’s pretending to be normal, just like her. It’s a weird feeling, seeing it from an outsider’s perspective—more than just a mirror’s gaze—and being able to pinpoint just what part of his response seemed artificial enough to satisfy her and which were sugarcoated truth. She catches herself calling him out for it, because that’s just an odd thing to point out about someone. And neither does she feel confident telling his parents either. Unless she wants them coming out of this thinking she’s insane. Well, the rabbit might be more willing to listen, but that fox… No, she would rather sit and watch a killer in the making than to be viciously interrogated again.

Patterns such as these always find their way back to her, seeing the same kind of people vaguely similar to her but with a more emotional rationale than her. Nigel, then Julianne, then M. Brewer. Maybe they come like tests of will, like a hand reaching out to pull her into her senses and do the right thing.

Maybe this is the only time she'll ever do the "right thing"

“Oh, that sounds…” Julianne starts, concerned at first, then a little unnerved, before calming herself. She’s focusing. “Should I bring this up with Minru…?” “I might be betraying his trust that way,” Sam admits, and Julianne softens a little when she realizes she’s an exception to that. She’s trustworthy enough for Sam to tell her this. Sam sighs, burying his cheek aaginst the top of Julianne’s hair. “I’m not equipped to help children like this, though.” “I’m sure he, you know,” she fiddles with her own fingers in thought. “Doesn’t know what he’s saying. He’ll probably outgrow it…?” Sam resists the urge to laugh. If only. “I’ll probably try to get him to talk to his parents about this. I don’t understand what made him think I could help.” Julianne lifts her head, smiling up at her girlfriend, and cuddles in closer, “Well, you are a comforting presence.” As much as Sam finds that hard to believe for a multitude of reasons, she lets her girlfriend pretend, and squeezes her tighter too.

she trusts Julianne's judgement and opinions to open up to her, layer by layer, but doubts her ability to be a comforting presence. someone loving or lovable enough to trust like that. people have trusted her to this degree before like Lola and now Pauline, but not like Julianne. And it always comes as a surprise. :( I love the way this is written. Maybe she and Lola had this conversation too when Nigel was a kid, except Sam nor Julianne will get to see how this ends.

“And they live really far,” Julianne adds, rubbing her head against Sam before snuggling in next to her. “But Minru promised to write.” Sam looks over at her, then runs her hand over her kitty’s shoulder, down to her elbow soothingly, and smiles, “That’s nice.” She’ll remember to check the mailbox before her for the next few months then. There will be no post cards for her girlfriend, she’ll make sure of that.

Take note of those last two sentences. This will be a cause of death later down the line. Don't worry about it now though. Giggle.

THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH AGAIN PHILIAH I LOVE YOU AAAHHHHHHH THIS MADE MY DAY HAPPY PRIDE EVERYNYAAA

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sigmas-lover · 20 days ago

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UNEXPECTED CONTINUATION OF ME READING PEAK?!

"Hi honey, not going to work?" Julianne smiled, yawning in between before her teeth instinctually chattered. The ice melted. I snort. "Is there a bird outside?" "No." She also laughed "Tic. It just happens. You going today?"

THEYYYYY GGGEGRUGFGLYYY SNIFFING LOUDLY

"Honestly, all my other girlfriends were short term. I do have a better feeling about her." From the window of the door I spotted from across the street Julianne strolling by. She had a canvas bag and wearing white like a saint. I gulped.

SHE HAS A ... she gukped.

"What is it, Honey? You fucking kill people too? You wanna impress me with your body count?"

imghoghbhakfoppppp Everybody remain calm (I'm the only one in the room)

NO THE ENDING ufkc,ny life ohhhh fuck my life... i mean like how else oculd it jhave played out becos sam was hurt once relating to this matter how can she trust again how hifhepaijfaeopjpjoeafpoj gweee hhh woehgfhgfh

The Poisonousness [1/2]

Cats are afraid of cucumbers. Read this like an issue. Sorry if the tone is off or out of character. Part 1 of 2!

tw for self harm or drug use mention. not explicit.

Tldr; when you wake up in a house next to a murderer, what would you do.

The feline eyesight is typically nearsighted. It helps that their sense of smell and sight work exceptionally well in the wild. A cat jumps in fear when it sees a cucumber, or any elongated colorful item really. "A snake" it yelps as it runs to avoid being bitten. As much as it is possible that a cat can come out alive of a quarrel like that animals prefer to avoid conflict. So they stay far, far, far away.

Julianne woke up before me this morning. She shook me awake when she realized we overslept. It was 9 in the morning yet I was not in a particular rush to go open the store. I woke up expecting that the dread would wash away soon. There was nothing signaling that the world would end again today. I should have taken care of her when I had it. Silenced it before it could cry for help in the streets. But this morning she was there in my kitchen eating cold spaghetti. On my spot was the cranberry pie I promised I would get to last night. She didn't have a sense of urgency in her face like she was fighting to keep herself together. It was like a morning before Thursday. "How fake" I thought.

Still I reached for a fork and sat across her. Her eyes laser focused on a sketchpad mapping out thumbnails. I began eating not saying a word. What else is she thinking? What else are you planning? What was she drawing? Was she discribing on paper what she saw?

She looks up to me from her lashes.

"Hi honey, not going to work?" Julianne smiled, yawning in between before her teeth instinctually chattered. The ice melted. I snort.

"Is there a bird outside?"

"No." She also laughed "Tic. It just happens. You going today?"

My mind weighed on whether I should come to work. I contemplated looking after her, observe every move, corner her with a question, or run to the forest. If I did go to the shop, would she make a run for it? Tell the police, tell her neighbors, tell the first person she saw? I imagined that morning the area around the block was taped off. Murmurs that were heard from the end of town. His. Fucking. Smile.

I had a moment to calm down. My eyes focused back to Julianne who was anticipating an answer. Her eyes furrowed with concern. We're still acting, aren't we?

"Are you okay, Sam?" She placed down her pencil to pick up her cup.

"I-- I will. Nobody is in a rush around here, anyway. Besides, I've gone to the shop at 12 pm when Charlie was around." I lied, quickly putting on a straight face. It was believable enough for her to shrug. She passed to me the tissue holder when she noticed a cranberry smear on my lower lip.

"Exactly why I chose to move here. It can be 1 pm right now and I wouldn't be so worried about wasting my time."

Her waning manners were easily detectable. She did not remain eye contact, her voice grew softer, and she ate quickly as if to be in a hurry. She stood up and quickly swept my clean plate to wash.

"Hey, there's still coffee if you like."

"No." I replied, void of emotion. "You can keep it."

It ate away in my brain. I kissed Julianne goodbye before heading out if the house. I turned on the engine and drove to the next street. Crawling back to the rear of the house I held my breath watching her clean the coffee maker. The mask came off. She was frowning, somber and deep in thought. Scraping the coffee grounds with her ears pulled back. Her tail slowly swaying. There was a timer above her head. She mentally counted the hours, minutes, the seconds before I came home. There's a murderer in this house. There's a snake next to me.

"It should come in a week. I'll call the sister store at Copper Shore to have it delivered next week." I jot down a reminder on my journal "Need anything else, Liv?"

The kangaroo looked back to the giraffe behind her. They both shook their heads before she proceeded to pay.

"How have you been feeling? It's unusual for you to open so late." Liv asked. She set what seems like dozens of bangles on the cashier top then continued writing her details down.

"Overslept. Had too much fun in bed." I joked "You two must've experienced the same most days, yeah?"

The kangaroo hid behind Kaku who was laughing along with me. He opened his backpack to look for something.

"How are you and Julianne lately?" He started after I put down the telephone.

"Great. Honestly she's the sleepyhead between the both of us."

"Can't believe it's gonna be a year until you two started dating!" Liv chimed in "Usually around this time a couple start bickering or they start growing resentment.."

"So far, nothing thankfully." I gritted. Kaku interrupted the awkward air as he handed out a white and blue envelope.

"Didn't you and Lola last 40 years? All it takes is communication and a lot of patience." "Honestly, all my other girlfriends were short term. I do have a better feeling about her." From the window of the door I spotted from across the street Julianne strolling by. She had a canvas bag and wearing white like a saint. I gulped.

"We're sorry for soliciting advice for your relationship. It's much more different than ours" Liv waved "by the way, RSVP for two!"

They exited the store as my eyes followed the cat as she walked out of sight. I locked the door and sprinted to the next corner.

Why do people creep themselves close to danger? They step into landmines, risking their time, their fortunes, their lives. Is it fun? Is it pleasurable? Do you really have nothing to lose? Disabling your senses. Ignoring the warning signs. Letting it consume them. Lesser vices, bad habits, horrid relationships- let the poisonousness inside. It strangles and sickens you 'til it kills you. Some sick indivuduals love the poisonousness. I have a sick girlfriend.

I found her at a craft store swatching inks. She kneeled looking at the color names, whispering them to herself. She settled on the rose ink, like usual. It was a rare color to find in a shop so niche but ever since she came around they've stocked at least 5 boxes a month. I took a closer look through the door. Julianne did not look at all tired or worried. She was...fine. Nothing indicated that she was going to go to the police. Nothing indicated she was gossiping about it to the shopkeeper. It was just a regular afternoon.

I finished a half day of business today. I breathed in as I came into the truck, hands shaky as the image of a year ago played in my mind. The town lit up tonight. At least there were families going out again. Couples huddling together into the theatre. Friends laughing to bars. I'm thankful that at least my home's heart is still beating, breathing and still sleeping.

The house lights were open. The living room was dim and there was nobody in the kitchen. Julianne's shoes were tucked on the side of the doormat, her spare keys laid on the ceramic plate. I called out for her but there was no reply. Shower. She must've come home just minutes ago. I switched the kitchen lights open and next to me was her sketchbook. The rubber bound the buldging contents. She opened up her new bottle of ink, swatching it on the receipt on top of it. I slowly took the rubber off and flipped through the pages, stickers and sticky notes flying to the chairs. I fought the temptation to savor each page, intent on a target but I still could not help but be enamoured by her talent. I arrived at a page full of rose ink, with shaky handwritten notes and water spillage. It looked recent. I bent down to read it clearly.

"OH GOD OH GOD OH FUCK" "SAM IS A KILLER!" "GOD I HOPE I'M DREAMING" "WHY DIDN'T SHE TELL ME? SHOULD I TELL HER? HOW WILL SHE REACT?" "AM I DREAMING? DRUNK? HIGH?" "SHOULD I CALL SOMEONE?"

"Is she a serial killer? Is she coming for me next?" "..Why didn't she just kill me?"

Next to these thoughts were little rectangles with what appeared to be incomplete triangles and a stick figure in the middle of it. Blank pages later there was an illustration of the crucifix she saw in pink and black. I could feel my breath picking up reading the note at the side: "Piece of Cake". A small hand rested on my side.

"Sam, what are you doing?" Came out like an exclaimation more than a question. Her tail puffed up and eyes shot wide open. I took a step forward to hold her hand but she jumped back. "Just looking at your art. You left it open." "You opened it." She sighed "Do you want to talk about it?" "What is It?" I was swimming back to the act. Julianne slumped back on the couch, crossing her arms and looking away. "Then let's talk about It."

I scooted next to her, tilting my head to meet her eyes. She frowned.

"Sam, I didn't mean to walk in on you..killing someone." "You have no business knowing if I kill something." I insisted, placing my foot down as early as now "I do what I like whether you like it or not." "Someone! That was someone, Sam." Julianne hissed "God but that's not it, I didn't go looking for you knowing you kill, I just innocently..saw you on the other side of that stream. I..I just wanted to ask you if we can eat together. Eat lunch together.."

I wanted to retort back why would she eat in a forest but I kept my mouth shut. She covered her face in disappointment.

"Why do you do it?"

"It centers me. Like a stress reliever. In the same vein as perhaps drugs or self harm. But this just works for me. It's natural."

She just nods. She frowns looking at her own scars and looks back to me. She's thinking I should get a therapist. What does she know about me?

"...Well. You know what I do now. What are you feeling?" She leaned back on my arm. We both looked into our blurry reflections on the television. We waited minutes until an answer came. "Sad. Mad. Confused. And..sort of relieved." That last answer shocked me. I looked back to her to make sure I was not next to another rodent. "Holy shit, why are you RELIEVED?" I raised my voice. "I wanna talk about something else. A secret." "What is it, Honey? You fucking kill people too? You wanna impress me with your body count?" "NO! No, I mean, partially but I don't kill people. I just wanted to share that I KILLED SOMEONE!" I instinctively covered her mouth, sitting her back down on the couch and shushing whatever she was yapping out next.

"Come on, now. Calm down. Let's talk like adults about this. I don't want you to get caught too, fine?" She placed her hand over mine as she attempted to calm herself down, looking at me before her voice drew into a whisper.

"Fine..yes, I've killed someone before. In my defense it's because I was friends with a..toxic friend. She belittled me, talked over me, just exploded her anger on me. I..I will admit that I hurt her too but she was just so unpleasant it drove me mad. I was so tired of being so small and worse than her that in a heated fight we..we..." Her eyes welled with tears thinking about the moment she secured it. The gentle paws I brushed knew the thickness of an artery. Those claws could be deadly if not handled right.

"Well..you understand, right? You kill, I've...killed. I won't kill again but you do get why I did, right?" The same bitter medicine. The same excuse. My eyes narrowed, pushing her into the couch.

"Don't patronize me. Don't fucking use me as an excuse. You tell me what animal you killed right NOW." I couldn't help it. Her eyes widened even more, ears pulled back and whiskers shaky.

"Sam. Sam she..she was a jackal. She's a jackal. A bigger animal. Sam, she could have killed me." "THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS!"

I slumped from the couch, laying down on the floor after yelling my throat out. I have never felt so afraid but so furious. I shut my eyes recollecting myself. Meanwhile Julianne stood from the couch, her feet shaking as she ran back upstairs. I curled up into a fetal position as the air got colder and the silence deafened. I felt a shake on my shoulder. I tossed back to look up. Her eyes were swollen, fur patched up illuminated by the faint warm light.

"I..I think I'll sleep at my apartment tonight. Thanks for having me here."

She gently shut the door after whispering goodbye. The only person who loved you in this whole world. How could you do that to her?

Oh well.

#I'M MULTI TASKING LOWK BUT HOUSE GUEST IS SO IMPORTATNT TO ME RN #not sigma (writing edition)

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