Sasha: See, and that’s why putting up walls under the guise that no one likes you isn’t a good idea! Not all of your insecurities are true, if people didn’t like you they would tell you… give me a sec *answers phone* STOP CALLING MOTHERFUCKER I TOLD YOU TO BLOCK MY NUMBER!… *exits call* see, exactly like that. i hate telegramers, and will tell them so. That’s why your friends don’t hate you.
@ivypond11 and I have been brainrotting over future Sashannarcy and we’re having a blast ✨
Here’s a tiny Sasharcy drabble! c:
Tw/cw: feelings of guilt, scars and Amphibia spoilers
***
“Honey, I’m home!” Sasha says, smirking playfully and kicking the door shut.
“I missed you, sweetheart,” Marcy replies, giggling and immediately burying down the thought that one day, she’d love those sweet nicknames to be something genuine, something more than just friendly banter.
“How’s that new chapter going?” Sasha asked, walking towards the kitchenette and throwing her gym bag to the ground.
Even in her plain crop top and leggings, with her hair slightly messy after the workout and a few blond strands framing her face, she looked absolutely stunning.
“Not gonna lie, I am a bit stuck,” Marcy sighed, tapping her stylus against the palm of her hand. “But maybe I just need a break. How did the boxing class go?”
“Uh, I may have punched a guy a bit too hard,” Sasha flinched slightly, pouring herself a glass of water.
@ivypond11 and I have been brainrotting over future Sashannarcy and we’re having a blast ✨
Here’s a tiny Sasharcy drabble! c:
Tw/cw: feelings of guilt, scars and Amphibia spoilers
***
“Honey, I’m home!” Sasha says, smirking playfully and kicking the door shut.
“I missed you, sweetheart,” Marcy replies, giggling and immediately burying down the thought that one day, she’d love those sweet nicknames to be something genuine, something more than just friendly banter.
“How’s that new chapter going?” Sasha asked, walking towards the kitchenette and throwing her gym bag to the ground.
Even in her plain crop top and leggings, with her hair slightly messy after the workout and a few blond strands framing her face, she looked absolutely stunning.
“Not gonna lie, I am a bit stuck,” Marcy sighed, tapping her stylus against the palm of her hand. “But maybe I just need a break. How did the boxing class go?”
“Uh, I may have punched a guy a bit too hard,” Sasha flinched slightly, pouring herself a glass of water.
And that’s when Marcy saw it.
Sasha’s back looked like it was split in half. The huge scar, almost perfectly aligned with her spine, was still very much there, peering from underneath the crop top and stretching down to her loins.
Marcy didn’t really know why it surprised her this much. She had a pair of scars like that of her own, after all. And she was the one who gave Sasha hers.
It was her fault.
“…but that’s kinda the point of the class, am I right?” Sasha’s voice and smile pulled Marcy out of her thoughts as the blonde turned around.
The look she saw on Marcy’s face was one she had known very well.
“Hey, everything alright?” Sasha asked calmly, walking towards the couch, where the black-haired woman was sitting.
“Yeah. Yeah, sorry, I spaced out a bit,” Marcy looked to the side, scratching her forearm.
“What’s wrong?”
Marcy swallowed, still avoiding the blonde’s gaze.
“Hey, I’m a licensed therapist,” Sasha chuckled. “And your friend. You can talk to me, you know?”
Marcy looked at her, biting her lip, her eyes filled with apprehension.
“Does it hurt?” she asked, almost whispering, and seeing the puzzled look on Sasha’s face, she pointed weakly towards her own back. “The scar, I mean.”
“My back?” Sasha asked, raising her brows. “No, not at all. Well, maybe sometimes, after I strain myself a bit too much, but to be fair, I forget that scar even exists most days.”
Marcy nodded, fiddling with her stylus.
“That’s what made you so worried?” Sasha asked.
“I guess,” Marcy shrugged. “I’m sorry, Sasha.”
“What for?”
“Well, I did it. It’s my fault, that scar.”
“Hey,” Sasha said, taking the other woman’s trembling hands in her own. “Look at me.”
Marcy looked up hesitantly.
“It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault at all, you weren’t the one who hurt me,” Sasha said slowly. “I don’t blame you for that. I know that you, the true you, would never hurt me.”
“But it was me-”
“It may have been your body, but it wasn’t you. It wasn’t your intention,” Sasha stroked Marcy’s arm. “It wasn’t your fault, Mars. Not at all. And I’m alright, so please, don’t beat yourself up over that. You have nothing to apologize for.”
Marcy sniffled, but nodded quickly.
“Besides,” Sasha’s hand went up towards Marcy’s chin, stroking it carefully. “We’re even. Sorry about your chin.”
