#anarcia fanfiction

[sexynetra]

Anetra sighed, rubbing her face and turning in her chair so she was fully facing her roommate. “Marcia.” It barely came out above a whisper. She cleared her throat, grimacing. “Marcia.” Louder this time. No response. “Marcia,” her voice was too loud, echoing through the silent room. Marcia turned, pulling out one headphone.

“Sorry, did you say something?” Marcia asked, tucking a fallen strand of hair back into her bun.

Anetra’s throat was parched, but she pushed on. “I could use some help, if you aren’t too busy.”

———

Did y’all miss me 🤭 we’re back with a new chapter! She wants you to read it and let me know your thoughts :)

[orionsstory]

that kind of devotion | anarcia (7)

yayy chapter seven is here :) as always, don't forget to check it out on ao3 !! and leave a comment if you liked it teehee

---

For the next two weeks, Marcia found herself texting Lotus every waking moment. During breaks, during dinner, any free time she had was spent laughing at her jokes or smiling at a picture she sent. She got to find out she loved ducks (through the several pictures she sent of the ones at the nearby park- Marcia didn't mind though) to her favorite song (Boss Bitch by Doja Cat, a song Marcia had found herself listening to nonstop lately). If she was lucky, Lotus would even call her after her patrol, and the two would talk for hours. They mostly talked about their day and the investigation, but sometimes Marcia would slip in a story about her growing up, or Lotus would tell her a story about Sasha. The two had grown much closer in the past two weeks, getting along like a house on fire.

Even now, she was sitting on the couch texting Lotus. She giggled at a text the other girl had sent before she was drawn out of her thoughts by someone nudging her leg. "I need to sit down too, you know." Luxx rolled her eyes as she sat down, handing Marcia her food. "Put your phone down and eat, you've been glued to that thing lately. It's your one day off and you've ignored me the whole morning!"

Marcia takes the food from her, "I'm sorry! It's just so...exciting! We've pretty much gone from talking a few times a month to every day, it's hard not to be so engrossed."

"Aww, she's down bad." Luxx teased her.

"No, I'm not down bad. I'm a lover."

"Marsh, that's the same thing."

"It's totally not! Well...maybe a little. Whatever..." She flushed in embarrassment, rolling her eyes. Luxx chuckled at her,  "Isn't that sweet, you know I haven't seen you this excited over a girl since that one in college...what was her name again?" Marcia cringed at the memory, she had to admit she may have the tendency to fall for people quite easily, but Lotus wasn't the same.

"That's not the same thing. Lotus is different."

Luxx raised her eyebrow, so she continued, "She shows genuine interest in me. She cares about my theatre stuff and how my day is. She texts me pictures of cute dogs she sees because she knows I'll love them. She's...thoughtful. Also, she didn't forget my name after one date, so she's already leagues ahead of Caitlin."

Luxx laughed, "Oh my god, I forgot about that! What did she call you again? Maria?"

"Miriam. She said she knew it was some old lady's name."

"Oh my god, she was awful. I'm so glad that lasted like, two weeks."

"You and me both. Anyways, what were you thinking of doing?"

"Well, since we're all getting together after your show tomorrow, I figured we could just lie low today. We could go to that coffee shop you like and people-watch."

Marcia was sold. "You know me so well, Luxx."

"Of course I do. We've been friends for like 10 years, it'd be sad if I didn't. Now let's go, I want to get a good spot before it gets busy."

-

They arrived at the small shop, setting their items down on the counter facing the biggest window. Marcia took a seat, taking out her drawing supplies as Luxx went to grab their drinks. It had been a while since they had been able to do this- they used to do it all the time in college, watching the people pass by and wonder about their lives while they worked on essays or assignments. They would wonder about their own lives, and what the future would be like. Marcia likes to think her younger self would be proud of where she is now. It makes her smile.

"One tea with honey for you...and an espresso for me!" Luxx hums as she sits the drinks down, sliding onto the seat beside Marcia. She brings out her own drawing materials, peering out the window.

"I missed this. Feels like it's been forever since we've done this."

"I know, it feels like we barely have time anymore. I guess that's what it means to be an adult."

Luxx nodded, her pencil sketching across the page. "Such is capitalism. Ugh, I'm so antsy to get this collection done. We're almost ready to go into production, so my stress is mostly over."

"Oh, I'm excited to see the collection! You're taking me to see the show, right?"

"Who else is going to be my plus one?" She laughs, taking a sip of her drink. "Oh yeah, that's good. Fuck, I've missed good coffee. The office coffee is so shitty, Marsh. Oh my god, it's horrible."

Marcia smiled, opening her own sketchbook as she began sketching some of the people outside. "For a luxury brand, you would think they could afford a better coffee machine." She laughed, scribbling in a woman's dark coat. "Maybe they'll get you a new one for Christmas."

Luxx rolled her eyes, "Please, don't give me hope. Irene keeps saying she's going to fix it and improve it herself but we've been so swamped she hasn't had time yet." She looked up for her next target before selecting a man with a dog. "Look at that dog- isn't it cute? Ugh, I wish I was better at animals. It looks like a rat."

Marcia leaned over to look at the sketch, rolling her eyes. "It looks great, you're being dramatic. That is a cute dog though, what a baby." She cooed, snapping a picture of it before she sent it to Lotus. "How is the collection going anyway? Weren't you guys almost done like, a month ago?"

"Well, we were going through final revisions, but they decided to scrap some of the looks so we had to come up with some new ones. I'm hoping this will be the final round though. I've got some of the early concepts for designs in here though." She answers, flipping through her sketchbook to show Marcia some of the designs. 

She always admired the other girls' aesthetic, Luxx's usual grungy and dark designs had seemed to translate perfectly to spring fashion. Desaturated colors and skirts with purposeful rips and tears turned a skirt into the shape of a flower, an impressive feat. Marcia had seen Luxx make gorgeous designs that weren't her aesthetic, but these ones were special. She always loved it when Luxx could show her passion through her designs.

"Dark forest...what a theme, right?" She softly chuckles, flipping back to the sketch she was working on. "I like it though. I think it'll be our best collection yet."

Marcia proudly smiles, returning to her own sketch of some scenery. They sketched in comfortable silence for some time, Marcia having stopped sketching the people outside and started sketching Lotus. She didn't mean to, it was just sort of a habit at this point.

"That's really good, is that Lotus?" Luxx asks, leaning over. Marcia nods, her face tinged red. "Is she coming to your performance tomorrow?"

"No, but she's coming for my first night as Elle. I'm really excited, I hope she'll like my performance- I've been working so hard on it. God, I hope it goes well, what if I choke?"

"You won't choke. You were like, born for this. You're gonna kill it."

Marcia smiles at her, "Thanks, Luxx."

-

Luxx volunteered for dinner duty that night, allowing Marcia a moment to herself. To debrief, to prepare herself for tomorrow. She felt the nerves creeping up, like they did for every show she had done. She had to remind herself that it was going to go well, that she was going to do well. She focused on the warm water of the shower that was beginning to turn cold- maybe she had been in there longer than she thought.

She stepped out of the shower, wrapping her hair in a soft pink towel before beginning to dry herself off. It was nice, and for a moment she felt calm as she blow-dried her hair, the muffled music of Ariana Grande playing in the background. 7 rings was interrupted by the ringing of her phone, Marcia clicked off the hair dryer as she answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, doll." Lotus' voice came from the other end. "Are you able to talk?"

Marcia hummed, "For a little bit- Luxx will kill me if I miss dinner." She wrapped her soft pink robe around her as she left the bathroom and entered her bedroom across the hall. "I thought you're usually on patrol around this time of day?"

"I am, but it's always a slow start. Thought I'd talk to you until I get a call."

She softly smiled, "Well, I won't complain about that. How's your day been?"

"Pretty standard. I'm hanging out with my coworker soon, but other than that nothing of note. But enough about me- you're gonna be on Broadway tomorrow! How are you feeling?"

"Nervous. Excited. I can't tell- I think it's both." She chuckled, "I know I'll probably do well, but it's just those pre-show nerves, you know?"

"Nah, I know you're gonna crush it."

"But how do you know? What if I...I don't know, trip and break my arm or something."

"I think you'd still perform, even if you had to be in a cast. Don't worry. Besides, isn't the saying break a leg?"

Marcia softly sighed, a smile creeping onto her face as she rummaged through her dresser for her pajamas. "Yeah, it is...and you're probably right. I'm way too excited about this. I just can't believe it's finally happening!"

She heard a faint buzzing on the other line, vaguely recognizing it as the sound of a call.

"Do you have to go?"

Lotus sighed, "Yeah. I do. I'm sorry. Hey- break a leg tomorrow. You're gonna kill it."

Marcia smiled. "Thanks, I will."

She heard Lotus laugh, she could practically see the other girls smile in her head.

"Atta girl."

-

The next morning was a blur. She remembered waking up to a 'break a leg ;)' text from Lotus and eating breakfast with Luxx, but time seemed to fly by after that. Her usual subway ride seemed to take five minutes, and their rehearsal that morning felt like it had happened in a second.

Now, she was in the dressing room with her castmates, all giddy and excited for the show. She applied the last of her blush and made sure her costume was perfect, waiting in the wings with the rest of the ensemble for the first number to start. Many were excitedly whispering to each other, the air in the theatre felt electric.

"Who's here for you tonight, Marcia?" One of her castmates and friends, Plasma, asked her.

"My friends and one of my cousins- we're going out afterward. What about you?"

"Some of my friends- and my mom, she flew in from Texas to be here. I can't believe it's opening night!" She excitedly shook Marcia's arm, causing her to smile.

"I know. Oh! There's the house lights, we're going!" She excitedly whispered, taking her place in preparation. She felt the anxiety returning to her chest, taking a deep breath as the curtains drew open.

They began their first number, which went as perfectly as it could. Marcia hit all the right steps, all the right notes, and stayed in character the entire time. She felt the anxiety in her chest dissipate after the first number, it turning into a feeling of joy. She felt good going into the second number, which turned into feeling great for the entire first act. During intermission, she and Plasma celebrated their success, which meant excitedly talking about the show while they made costume and makeup adjustments for the second act.

The second act also went spectacularly. She could tell the entire cast was bringing their all, and the audience could too. Every time the audience laughed or cheered her drive became stronger, causing her to perform even better. By the time curtain call came, she was exhausted- but proud. As she bowed with the rest of the ensemble, she could hear Luxx's cheers above the rest. She couldn't see her group because of the house lights, but that was enough to put a smile on her face. 

She's able to get out of her costume and makeup fairly quickly, only delayed by her and Plasma geeking out about the show- releasing the remainder of the energy they had for the night. Eventually, she gathered her things and left, signing some things for a few fans at the stage door before spotting her friends.

"MARSHALL!" Luxx squealed, tightly hugging the other girl. Marcia giggled as her friends swarmed her, excitement filling the air. Jan raved on and on about her vocals and dance moves, her cousin was a fellow theatre nerd and they often spent their childhood watching different musicals (and poorly reenacting them). Robin, although less experienced in the theatre world, complimented her performance and gave her a bouquet- which Amethyst almost crushed as she pulled the group in to take a photo.

Marcia feels elated as the group returns to her apartment, giving her time to change into a sparkly mini-dress. She quickly shot a text to Lotus before coming back out, rejoining the girls who had also changed. They took a quick shot of some tequila they had lying around the house before heading to the nearest gay bar.

-

"My girlfriend said she and her friend are a few minutes away," Robin yelled above the noise, trying to keep Amethyst from getting swallowed up by the crowd. "I'm making them get us drinks- what does everyone want?"

The girls shouted out their various drink orders to Robin, drowned out by the club's music. The lights strobed and Marcia could feel her body vibrating from the bass. She danced with Luxx and Amethyst, letting herself go and focusing on having fun- she deserved it, after all. She felt her legs growing sore, but it didn't bother her. She would regret it in the morning, however it wasn't anything she couldn't deal with.

They only stopped dancing when Robin squealed, throwing herself into the arms of a girl who had just walked up. "That's Aura," Amethyst shouted so they could hear, the other girls nodding along. "Who's that beside her?" Marcia asked, referring to the girl who had appeared beside Aura.

She was wearing a short red dress and a leather jacket, and her long light-colored hair was straight and worn down, with some bobby pins to keep her bangs back. She looked like she had some darker streaks in her hair, but she couldn't be too sure with the blaring club lights. From what Marcia could see, she had a pretty athletic build and a scar over her left eye. She felt like she knew the girl, but she couldn't place her finger on why.

"I guess her friend," Amethyst whispered in her ear, "She's hot, right? Is she glaring at us though?" Marcia turned her attention back to the other woman, Amethyst was right- she did seem to be glaring, but she couldn't even clearly see the girl because of the flashing lights.

"Can't tell."

Aura and Robin finally broke apart, allowing Aura to shift her attention to the other girl.

"Oh! This is one of my friends, Anetra!" The other girl nodded her head in greeting. "She doesn't bite, she just has chronic RBF." Aura laughed, Anetra rolled her eyes and playfully elbowed her. Amethyst introduced herself first before Marcia did- she noticed the girl's eyes widen a bit before returning to normal. That was strange, did she recognize her too?

She was going to talk to her more when Aura pulled her away to go get the group's drinks, putting a pin in her plan. That was fine, she'd just talk to her when she returned. However, Anetra didn't return. Aura came back alone, balancing the drinks in her arms.

"Where'd Anetra go?" Luxx asked, taking her drink from Aura.

"She got a call while we were waiting at the bar- came back and said there was an emergency and dashed out. She seemed stressed about it."

"I hope she's okay..." Marcia worried, "Poor girl just got here."

"I'll check up on her later, she's a tough cookie so I'm sure she'll be fine."

That was the last they talked about it, the rest of the night was a blur as they danced and drank until their feet hurt. Marcia tried to tone it down so she wouldn't feel as miserable tomorrow, which worked to some degree. She and Luxx left around 1 am, both deciding to be somewhat responsible. She quickly changed into her pajamas, almost passing out the instant she hit the bed. She shot off a goodnight text to Lotus, who still hadn't answered her last message, which was odd. She worried something may have happened, but she pushed that thought to the back of her mind- she was just paranoid.

[sapphire-to-the-rain]

wip wednesday - anarcia tutor au <3

if you like this pls check out the sketch i also made for this universe... ok thank you enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!!

Marcia gives her a downturned pout, leaning down to reach her bag under the table and pull out her folder. “You’re no fun,” she laments. “The homework is really confusing this week, I looked at it and kind of just gave up.”

“Let me see.” Marcia surrenders her worksheet to the waiting extended hand. “Oh, I see. It’s not that complicated, I can show you how to do it.”

Playfully, Marcia rolls her eyes as she takes back her paper. “Of course you can, it’s ‘cause you’re some kind of math wizard who can use your weird calculus magic to get any problem right.”

The girl gives Marcia a bemused quirk of her lips, and on her it might as well be an ear to ear grin. “I’m not magical.”

At this, she lets out a burst of genuine laughter. “Anetra,” she says, her face already glowing with the telltale flush of delight, “you definitely are.”

[eyeslikewatercoolers]

14 and anarcia?😉

14. A is looking for a last minute gift and enlists the shop owner, B, for help, but quickly ends up getting distracted by them

So this prompt was actually requested twice for two different ships, so here's the Anarcia version! For some reason, my mind went straight to an antique shop in a small town's downtown street. Very Hallmark-inspired, but that's part of the Christmas experience!

"This is the last store in town open this late. They better have it or Grandma's going to kill me." Marcia spoke into her phone, finally finding a spot on the downtown street with decent cell service.

"I don't think Grandma will kill you. She'll probably write you out of the will if you can't find the glass dolphin your dog broke." Her older sister, Jan pointed over the phone as Marcia rolled her eyes.

"You know I can't leave Poppy at home. My baby has bad separation anxiety and she gets the zoomies."

"It's your dog, that's why you need to find a replacement. Rosie and Goona can't distract her forever."

As much as she wanted to argue, Marcia knew Jan was right. She should have watched Poppy better instead of letting her run like crazy until she crashed into the living room hutch. Luckily, everything else was savaged except for the blown-glass dolphin statue that shattered.

Her grandmother was distraught when she found out since it was one of her most prized possessions in her home. Marcia needed to find a replacement fast while her cousins kept her busy looking at old pictures and home videos.

Marcia sighed into the phone, "I know, I'm really hoping they have it. I'll text you later." she said as she hung up the phone and walked up the brick steps into the last antique shop on the block.

"Welcome in." She heard a female voice call to her as she began searching the store. She didn't have time to say a greeting in return or even acknowledge the worker. She was on a mission and running out of time.

Marcia found a case of glass trinkets in the upstairs part of the store. She carefully examined row by row for the glass dolphin she was looking for.

“Meow.”

She saw a long-haired ginger cat in the corner of her eye, but she ignored the cat walking up to her. Must have been the store pet wanting attention.

“Meow.”

The cat started brushing up against Marcia’s legs, trying to ask for some attention. The blonde carefully stepped away from the cat to continue searching the case.

The cat stopped meowing, and Marcia thought it would be the end of it and the cat would leave her be. Unfortunately, the cat got even more desperate to get any attention from Marcia.

Suddenly, a flash of orange fur jumped up to eye level onto one of the open shelves of the case. The cat carefully stepped between the glass trinkets, continuing to meow as Marcia.

"Shit," Marcia said under her breath, panicking at the thought of the cat breaking the dolphin statue before she could see it.

"Is she bothering you?" a female voice said from the staircase, the wooden steps squeaking.

"Oh, um-" Marcia stuttered, unsure what to do. The woman looked about her age, with bright red-dyed hair and sharp brown eyes.

"Georgie, get down from there!" the woman said, swiftly moving to the case and carefully holding the ginger cat in her arms. "Sorry, she's supposed to be downstairs right now."

"It's okay, I just didn't want her breaking anything." Marcia smiled as the women put Georgie on the staircase to leave. "Oh, but since you are here, could you help me find something? Assuming you work here, that is," she asked.

"Actually, I own this store. I'm Anetra." the redhead introduced herself. "What do you need help finding?"

Marcia felt surprised to learn that someone in her twenties would own an antique store. "I need to find a glass dolphin statue," she explained, pulling out her phone. "Something like this." she showed the picture from the internet that Jan found earlier that day.

Anetra narrowed her eyes to look at the screen, "I'm not sure off the top of my head, but let me check my inventory spreadsheet." Anetra led her back downstairs to the computer at the checkout.

While Macia patiently waited, she decided to make small talk. "So how long have you owned this store?" she asked.

Anetra glanced up from the screen, "I inherited it after my grandfather passed away about two years ago. My siblings all got $500 each, and I got his old store and Georgie already lived here."

"Oh, okay," Marcia said as she awkwardly stood in front of the desk. "I was just curious."

"You aren't from here, are you?" Anetra asked but gave a look like she already knew the answer.

Marcia shook her head, "No, but my grandmother lives here, so I'm only here for Christmas. I'm from New York."

"Makes sense, I thought I had never seen you before," Anetra said as she scrolled. "And everyone in town knows my family anyways."

Before Marcia could say anything else, Anetra frowned at the screen. "I don't have any of what you're looking for." She pulled out a legal pad from the drawer. "But if you give me your number, I can see what I can do and let you know in a few days."

Marcia thought for a moment, as a few days would cut it close before she had to go back home. But it's still worth a shot if Anetra could pull this off for her. "Sure," she said as she took the paper and a pen and wrote her number.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it. You have a good Christmas." Marcia said as she headed for the door.

"Wait," Anetra called as she opened the door, letting in a burst of cold air. "What's your name?" she asked.

"It's Marcia."

The day after Christmas, Marcia got a text from a random number. She was so busy catching up with family, she nearly forgot about the antique store and Anetra,

Anetra: Good news, my friend Sasha who owns a thrift store about 10 miles from here has the glass dolphin you were looking for. I'll have it in by tomorrow if you want to pick it up.

Anetra: Also, if you're still in town, are you free on New Years? Sorry if that's too forward, but there's a good bar in town if you're interested.

Anetra: This is Anetra, btw

Marcia smiled to herself. Her grandma will have a new glass dolphin, and she will get to see Anetra again. Sure, she'll have to extend her trip, but New Years with this woman seemed like it would be worth it.

Marcia: Sounds perfect. For the dolphin and the date ;)

[icyspicy4u]

wading my way through this neighborhood (chapter one)

i literally don't know what to say about this one. i banged out like 10k of an anarcia spider-man au in mmm about two days. so. enjoy!! playlist linked here. ao3 link here.

Anetra is a friendly neighborhood superhero trying not to fall headlong into New York City's tangled crime web while also trying to avoid falling head over heels in love with her roommate. She doesn't really do a good job at either.

Although she’s typically winningly optimistic, Anetra is forced to admit that she might really be in deep shit this time.

She dives to the ground to dodge a punch from one of the men blocking her exit from this alley, and just as she hits the asphalt her phone begins to ring, loudly, because she definitely didn’t need another thing to worry about.

Whenever she wears her suit, she keeps her phone tucked in her bra, against her chest, safe from prying eyes or a damaging fall. Crucially, she also always silences it when she’s out on these little suited-up webslinging jaunts.

Except for this jaunt in particular, apparently.

This time, Anetra forgot to turn her ringer off before leaving, and the ringtone Marcia gave herself (Boss Bitch, by Doja Cat—Marcia swears it was worth the dollar Anetra had to cough up to buy the song) starts to echo through the slim space of the alley she’s been cornered into.

The man in front trying his best to pummel Anetra into the brick walls on either side of him pauses at the sound of the music.

Everyone does, honestly, including Anetra, standing in a defensive position and blinking a little in disbelief behind her mask as Doja spits out lyrics about high-heeled shoes.

“Um,” Anetra says, heroically. The man in front offers up nothing but a threatening crack of the neck, and then he’s lunging for her again, followed by his buddies.

Normally, Anetra would just throw a web up to the sky, land it on one of the roofs of the buildings forming this alley, and neatly pull herself out of this situation. Easy money. However, this alley is barely wider than her wingspan—she’d need more room than she’s got to effectively aim.

Also, with the way these dipshits have been bearing down on her, she barely has enough time to throw her arms up and block the punches, let alone take a step back to use her webshooter.

She doesn’t know who they are, or who sent them, or why they are so intent on rocking her shit.

Over the past six months of being the Spider, she’s made a fair few enemies from sticking her nose where people think she shouldn’t be—she’s learned most of the hallmarks of the underground’s major players that way.

But these don’t look like any of the lackeys she’s used to. They don’t bear the MIB branding across their chests that Mistress’ henchmen are required to wear or the LaDuca crest on the lapel that all of Loosey’s guys have.

It’s disconcerting—Anetra continues running through her mental list of people who most likely want her dead, and these men don’t seem like they’ve been sent by any of them.

With the same repeating thirty seconds of Doja’s voice as a backing track, Anetra drops to a low squat as the man in front swings another wide hit at her head. She takes advantage of her new position to lunge for his knees, then shoves her shoulder into him and wraps her arms tight around his calves to force his legs to buckle—the man’s now-overloaded weight brings them both crashing to the ground.

Anetra rolls away easily from the tackle, gets to her feet to try and assess the situation, but the space she’s clawed out for herself is gone as soon as it was made when the rest of the men charge at her.

“Jesus, guys, can I catch a break?” she asks breathlessly, throws one hand up to catch the fist flying at her face as another guy goes for her ankles and she has to leap out of the way. “I’m serious, here. Could use a breather. What about you?”

“Smart-ass spider,” one of them grumbles, finally breaking the professional silence the whole group has been keeping up until now, and Anetra flashes him a winning smile that she only wishes a little bit that he could see as he tries to headbutt her against the wall.

She’s lucky that these men don’t seem to be actually combat-trained in any way. They’re moving the way most hired muscle does, bear-like and unpracticed, the style of brawling that’s borne out of being consistently bigger than your opponents. They’re used to steamrolling people Anetra’s size easily, so they’re throwing punches that Anetra can block without thinking while she tries to formulate her escape plan.

Her phone has finally stopped ringing, but it chimes to signal a new voicemail as she triangulates a gap to slip through in the wall of muscle.

A brief sting of guilt passes through Anetra. She’s been missing a lot of Marcia’s calls lately.

She’s rarely home now—when she’s not working, she’s out being this strange masked vigilante, and these days it seems like every small crime that she stops leads to another, worse one cropping up a few blocks down.

She already had the suit on under her clothes when she left the apartment earlier, shouting a goodbye to Marcia with some lame excuse about covering some other dancer’s shift at the bar—she was actually headed to an abandoned studio space downtown to fuck around with her web calibration for a while. She’s managed to master some kind of formula.

Again, the suit was already on under her clothes. What was she supposed to do when she heard a scream from the alley, ignore it?

Yes, she thinks to herself bitterly, pinning herself against the wall to barely avoid getting kneed in the ribs.

What had started as an easy job—it was a simple mugging, she could shoot a few webs the guy’s way and leave him strung up easily, let the victim get free—had suddenly transformed into a much bigger problem when several of these men had showed up. She should’ve been home an hour ago.

The guilt twists, intensifies. She’ll buy Marcia dinner later this week, or something. They can get takeout like they used to, when Anetra was fucking normal and couldn’t walk on walls.

Hey, wait a minute.

Anetra scans the too-close walls on either side of her. It’ll be a hell of a Hail Mary jump, but maybe—

While she’s distracted, a meaty fist makes contact with the side of her face, hard enough to make her ears ring. She stays standing, years of practice from gone-wrong taekwondo fights keeping her feet under her, but just barely.

She spits some blood from her mouth against the fabric of her mask, tries to let her vision right itself, but then another hit catches her in the gut and her breath leaves her.

Okay. Okay, shit. She’s kind of losing control of the situation, here. She needs to get her half-formulated plan back on track.

She narrowly dodges out of the way of a third punch, throws a clumsy kick that she feels make contact with flesh, then stumbles backwards until she can feel the bricks of the alley’s back wall against her back.

Her head is spinning, but she tips her head back, ignoring the awful sensation of the blood from her nose and mouth running down her throat.

She assesses the slice of sky between the buildings. Her heightened instincts do the math for her on just how precise her jump needs to be to get her to safety—if she misjudges this, she’s either going to slam herself against the wall and do the henchmen’s job for them, or she’s going to fall right back down to earth. Also probably doing their job for them.

Speaking of which, over the distraction of their second fallen companion, the three remaining men begin their charge towards her. They’re each sporting a grin that says they think they’ve won, probably elated at the sight of blood staining Anetra’s mask and the heavy breaths she’s taking.

Anetra kind of admires the confidence.

With a clumsy wink that they can’t see, she crouches low, and then when they’re almost on top of her she leaps straight up into the air, her best shot, sticking her arms out in the cramped space to hopefully catch on the walls of the building. Pleasepleasepleaseplease—

It’s a near thing. She’s not capable of jumping all the way to the rooftop, but her fingers graze both walls thirty feet up. Just barely, but it’s enough contact to give her purchase on the surface. The invisible hook of her wall-clinging ability catches her on each side, keeps her bracketed between the buildings and out of reach of the men below.

The resulting giggle from her is a little delirious to her own ears, but she hopes it sounds victorious to them.

“Fuck all of you,” she shouts, grinning, curls her knees up to her chest and pushes off to hop up onto one of the roofs—made accessible with the minimized distance—and peer down at them from there. “Tell whoever sent you, they aren’t gonna get my ass that easy!”

Instead of being frustrated at her cockiness, as she would’ve expected, they’re all unnervingly calm. One of them tilts their head like they’re studying her.

“She won’t give up, you know,” that one says. “It’ll end in a lot less pain for you if you come with us now.”

“Hang on, it really doesn’t seem like we’re on the same page here, guys,” Anetra shouts, trying to sound breezy even though the ominous words send something skittering down her spine. “Who is she?”

The man who spoke grins crookedly. Maybe she didn’t sound as breezy as she thought.

“You don’t need to know,” he yells up at her. “All you need to know is that this won’t be over until she has you.”

“Don’t care!” Anetra chirps, maybe a little frantically, and casts a web to a billboard on an adjacent rooftop so she can swing away from the scene as fast as possible.

As the wind whips at her, a little abrasive against her tender bruises and scraped skin under the suit, the threatening words echo through her head.

This won’t be over until she has you.

She’s certainly had to develop a thicker skin since becoming New York’s resident superhero. Between the death threats and the unflattering mid-swing pictures people post online (the latter might genuinely be affecting her more negatively than the former), she’s had to figure out how to shove all of this Spider stuff into a big ol’ box in her brain and leave it there while she lives the rest of her life so that it can’t get to her.

This threat feels too real to put in that box, though. The way it was delivered, the way that man had looked up at her with something like pity in his eyes when she refused to bend—it makes her breath come a little shallower than is comfortable as she thinks about it.

Her heightened senses that came with that stupid spider bite don’t just help her assess the situation in fights, they also tell her when something’s wrong. If she doesn’t attend to the feeling and follow her instincts, the sensory overload of it all usually triggers a migraine.

She wouldn’t be too worried about this mysterious she that sent those men to collect her, but the hair on the back of her neck is standing up and she’s clenching her teeth without thinking about it.

Something about this is wrong, her body is telling her, and she has no idea what.

Suddenly desperate to stop thinking about it, she swings herself to a somewhat secluded rooftop, free from prying eyes, and pulls off her mask to give herself a second to breathe.

The sun is starting to set. She’s chosen one of the taller buildings in the area to rest on, so she can really take in the view, the pink-orange-gold-yellow tone of light shifting every hard angle of the city to something softer and sweeter.

She can see lights turning on in people’s apartments as the daylight fades, can see a few different rooftop bars start to fill up with patrons from up here. It’s a nice reminder that even with the isolation of her extremely unique life experience, she’s not alone. Someone’s always awake, someone’s always looking at the same skyline you are.

With her legs swinging off over the edge of the roof, Anetra pulls out her phone to finally listen to Marcia’s voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me!”

Despite her heart hammering around anxiously from both leftover and still-present adrenaline, Anetra manages a smile at that.

“Who else is it going to be, you dumb bitch?” she mumbles, rhetorical and fond.

“I’m figuring you probably just got caught at work and that’s why you’re not home. I was going to hold dinner for you, but I’m starving, so you snooze, you lose, Neech. Don’t know what to tell you. Your tacos are definitely going to be cold when you get home, and that is karma, is what that is.”

She pauses for a second. Anetra listens to her breathe, think about what she wants to say next. Her nose was probably all scrunched up when she recorded this like it gets when she thinks too hard.

“I miss you,” she says, and then the evening is quiet again, excepting the buzz of voicemail static. “Um. Anyway. Taco meat will be waiting when you get home. Please eat it. Or—just eat something with a modicum of protein. I’m begging you.”

Anetra has a full grin on her face when the message beeps, signaling its end. She swipes over to Google and searches up “modicum”, relying on autocorrect since she has no idea how to spell it, then sends Marcia a screenshot.

TO: marcia 🌸💖💫🧚💕🌷💗✨💝

(The emojis weren’t Anetra’s idea, believe it or not. Marcia gave her very specific instructions on which ones she wanted next to her name.)

[Attachment: 1 Photo]

You had to use this word right

Like needed to

You couldn’t have said “a little bit” or any of the various synonyms available to you, you needed to use that one

FROM: marcia 🌸💖💫🧚💕🌷💗✨💝

AHAHAHAHA

so sorry

Anetra smiles, but it slips from her face quickly as she realizes the fast response time is most likely worry-based.

I’m headed home now, she texts, wanting to quiet Marcia’s anxieties. Only a few minutes away :)

ok yay, Marcia sends back. The bubble appears, then disappears, then comes back again, indicating some rethinking. did the dancer shift end up ok? u just had to stay late?

Yeah

It’s all Anetra can really give her, even though the single-word response will only further Marcia’s suspicions. The doubling up on questions is already enough of an indication of her doubt.

Yara was on my ass tonight, she texts to try and cover. Yara Sofia is the manager at the bar, who lets Anetra come in for a dancing shift once or twice a week after her waitressing hours, and she is on Anetra’s ass all the time, even though it’s always out of love. It’s a real half-ass of a redirection, but Marcia, always graceful and always sweet, follows her lead anyway.

omg what did she do

Anetra takes some time to craft a decently wild story about Yara’s unorthodox marketing methods (she mentions Yara’s vibrant Onlyfans career, which is very real) to provide some scaffolding for her lie about her whereabouts.

Once she’s sent it, she gets to her feet, pulls her mask back over her face, and stretches, taking in the last of the sunset as the colors bleed out of the sky. The artificial lights have flickered on all around her now, doing their best to replace the sun’s warm glow and coming up just a little bit short.

She sends a web out to a streetlight on a parking garage nearby and hops off the roof. Since she’s still a little shaken, it takes her longer to find her rhythm than it normally does.

Cast out the web. Feel the resistance when it catches on a building or a lamppost or a tree. Swing from that node forward, let your body hurtle through the air, almost freefalling but not quite. Release, then cast again.

Cast, feel, swing, release. Cast, feel, swing, release.

She won’t give up, you know.

Cast, feel, swing, release. Definitely don’t think about the person with a vendetta against you who tried to get you killed earlier today. Cast, feel, swing, release.

“It’s Spider-Man!” she hears from below a few feet ahead of her, bringing her mostly out of her head. Within the crowds on the street, more than a few people have their faces upturned to gawk at her, but that exclamation in particular came from a little girl on her dad’s shoulders.

Anetra waves at her as she swings by on a streetlight, and the kid waves back, practically a caricature of cuteness sitting on her dad’s shoulders with her missing teeth and pigtails. Not a man, she wants to correct sunnily, but she stays mute. The public’s general assumption that she’s a dude keeps her cloaked in an extra layer of secrecy, and she can’t afford to shed any of those.

Sometimes she wants just a little bit—a modicum, one might say—of recognition. At least a small sign, somehow, that people get what she’s putting herself through, that what she’s doing isn’t for nothing.

But she understands that that’s not worth sacrificing her identity and her safety for, even if this life feels like it’s grinding away at her slowly. The isolation of it all is hard, but it’s for a reason. She can’t risk any of the Spider’s shit finding its way into Anetra’s life, because then that endangers all the people who know Anetra, tangles them all in the Spider’s web.

The Spider doesn’t have friends who can get hurt. Anetra does.

That man’s crooked smile shines in her mind like an afterimage of a bright flash. She lands hard on her feet in the alley behind her building, his words biting at her heels and hounding her.

Nothing from a fight’s ever stuck with her like this before. Chills travel down to the very ends of her extremities, and sparks scatter across her vision, the very first warning sign of an oncoming migraine.

Something is coming for her.

She zips up her sweatshirt so her suit is hidden, rips her mask off and stuffs it in the pocket, tries to shake off what’s left of the Spider unsuccessfully.

One shuddering breath is all she has time for before she’s cramming her key in the lock and opening the door, shoving it hard with her shoulder because it always sticks in its frame in the summer with the New York heat.

“Hi!” she shouts. It’s late, but Marcia doesn’t go to bed for at least another hour on weekends, so she’s loud just for the sake of it, just to jog loose the calcified anxiety in her mind.

“Hey!” she hears yelled in a singsong reply from the front room. After quickly making herself a taco from the ingredients Marcia left out, she heads that way with her hands in her pockets, a little more urgency in her step than usual.

On days where she spends more time in the mask than out of it, when the mental box she’s forced around her little vigilante hobby won’t stay closed and terrifying images flash through her mind every time she closes her eyes, she needs to get back to herself again, and Marcia’s always been her key for that.

She knows Marcia inside and out. Marcia knows her outside and in. They’ve been roommates since they both moved to New York, connected through one of those terrible Facebook groups that every desperate person moving to a big city joins on some wild hope that they’ll be able to find everything they need to survive in the posts there.

Anetra didn’t find everything she needed (no one on Facebook knows where to find good Puerto Rican food), but she did find Marcia. On her sappier days, she’ll say that that’s about the same thing.

Marcia is facing away from Anetra when she comes into the living room, sitting on their saggy old couch with her feet tucked up against herself and her laptop balanced on her knees. When she hears Anetra’s footsteps on their creaky-ass floor, though, she tilts her head all the way back over the arm of the couch so she can see her, and then she smiles.

Anetra feels her shoulders relax, and lets out a sigh under her breath. She’s okay, she’s here. Everything is well.

“Hi,” she says again.

“Hey,” Marcia says, repeating herself as well to go along with the bit. She’s still smiling, a few veins in her head popping with the upside-down position. “Oh, good, you found the tacos. You gonna say ‘hi’ again, or can I ask you how work was?”

“Work was fine. Now, sit your ass up or you’re going to pass out with all that blood rushing to your big head,” Anetra warns, hopping onto the other side of the couch and poking Marcia’s calf with her foot.

“Just fine?” Marcia asks once she’s readjusted into a normal seated position, ignoring Anetra’s jab about her head. Usually she’d make a bit out of it, act all wounded and everything. It makes Anetra a little nervous.

“I mean, yeah,” Anetra says, shrugging to sell it. “What, you want all the gory details of how my pelvis got a lot closer to a lot of old men’s faces than I ever wanted it to?”

“No, ew, no,” Marcia replies, scrunching her nose up in disgust. She’s wearing her glasses, so the gesture is a little funnier than it normally is. “No, I just—they’ve been asking you to take a lot of extra shifts, is all. Waitressing and dance. Is that okay? Are you… is, um. Is money okay?”

It’s a clunky way to ask a sensitive question, but it’s always been a clunky topic between the two of them. It’s very simple, really. Marcia comes from money. Anetra does not.

As far as how much rot generational wealth can cause in a brain, Marcia’s on the good side of things: she’s fairly aware of the privilege she’s held and continues to hold in society, lives modestly on her own teacher’s salary without help from her parents, and challenges her peers from youth on their wealth and what they’re choosing to do with it.

However, she still grew up a rich kid, and that’ll fuck a person right up.

There are things she’s never even had to begin to conceptualize because of the many layers of plush societal protection she was swaddled in from birth. It makes her a little dense on certain topics, like service jobs and financial etiquette, even after almost ten years away from her parents’ lifestyle.

“Money’s fine,” Anetra assures her, a little tightly. Marcia knows she’s very lucky to have a gold-lined safety net at the ready whenever she needs or wants it, and she consistently reminds Anetra of its application to her as well.

Never mind that Anetra would maybe rather die, eat shit, and give herself over to the mysterious woman that wants the Spider dead before she accepts help from Marcia’s parents.

Growing up poor’ll fuck you up too.

“Good,” Marcia says, equally tense, sensing she’s overstepped. “Okay. Yeah, that’s good.”

Anetra feels a little guilty. Marcia can be naïve when it comes to money stuff, but she would have good reason to believe Anetra’s hurting for cash right now, with how many times she’s said she’s covering a shift or dancing late when she’s really out tangling webs all over the greater metropolitan area.

“It’s not the money,” she says, gentler now. “I, um. I’m putting in the hours to try and get a better time slot when I dance. Kind of want to go for a more respectable crowd than the ten-to-midnight folks.”

Marcia nods, slowly. She takes her glasses off and stares at them intently while she polishes them with her pajama top.

“Dick move on my part, bringing up money,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no, it’s all good,” Anetra says easily, because it really is. Marcia never means any harm. Her parents are assholes with no intent of ever redistributing their wealth outside of their family tree, and Marcia’s entire adult life has essentially been an exercise in atoning for that in any way she can think of—including offering trust fund money to her club dancer/waitress/general service worker roommate.

Anetra understands making what you can out of your shitty upbringing, she really does. She just tends to prickle at the slightest insinuation of charity. And Marcia is anything but subtle.

“I—You would tell me, if something else was going on?” Marcia asks, gaze still fixed on her lap, her voice a little faint. Her eyes flick up to meet Anetra’s, just once.

Well, Marcia, there was this spider in your coworker’s girlfriend’s lab that we toured that one time, and it bit me, and now I can traverse walls like gravity isn’t even real and I have superhuman reflexes and I can sense oncoming danger and I built myself these gadgets so I can swing all around the city and I’ve been using all these aforementioned abilities to fight crime—

“I would,” she says, cutting off her train of thought as she tries to get Marcia’s eye contact back. It’s a lot simpler than all of those other things she wants to say. It’s also a lie, or a partial one.

Not if it’s going to hurt you.

They don’t lie to each other if they can help it. But Anetra can’t help it, not in this circumstance, not if she wants Marcia to stay safe, so she meets Marcia’s eyes and compels her to believe her answer.

She sells it at least enough to get Marcia to relax, and she smiles again, a little wearier this time than before.

“Well, if stuff does come up, you know you can talk to me,” she offers, putting her glasses back on. “And I hope you get that evening gig. It sounds classy.”

Anetra snorts. “Nothing at Piranha is ever going to be classy.” She’s eager to move away from the topic at hand. “What are you working on?”

Marcia grins, and turns her laptop screen to face Anetra. “Just the choreography for the recital,” she says, the anxiety starting to fade from her posture as she sits up excitedly, shifts so that they’re sitting right next to each other. Anetra can feel the warmth of Marcia’s body through the layers of her sweatshirt and her suit.

“Oh, shit, yeah. Landed on a theme yet?” Anetra asks, clicking through the different tabs Marcia has open.

“Nothing’s good enough,” Marcia sighs, shaking her head and taking back control of the cursor to navigate to the document where she has all her brainstorming laid out. “I don’t want to do another recital where the teacher makes all the little girls dress up like flowers. That’s been done. It’s tired.”

“Oh, for sure,” Anetra says with mock seriousness, and then starts giggling when Marcia shoves her.

Anetra doesn’t really understand this whole world of dance that Marcia moves through with ease. She was a taekwondo kid. This is not her lane.

Obviously, that doesn’t stop her from attending every recital with a bouquet to throw at Marcia when the curtain falls, making it her personal mission to cheer the loudest for the kids out of everyone else.

She also likes to put in her opinions when Marcia brings her work home, like here, now, helping her decide on whether her middle-grade students’ suggestion of “Night of 1000 Beyoncés” as a theme is realistically going to work. Anetra sketches out a few test costume ideas while Marcia searches up some different medleys she can choreograph to.

Eventually, while they’re working side by side, as one in the morning comes and goes and two A.M. swiftly approaches, Anetra feels herself starting to drift off. Her body feels as if it’s melting into the couch, and without the adrenaline from earlier her bruises are really starting to ache. Her jaw feels tender where the guy clocked her with his fist, and she tried to clean off her nose but there’s definitely some dried blood up in there that’s making breathing uncomfortable.

She yawns widely, sticks her tongue out like a cat. That’s usually a surefire way to get a giggle from Marcia, but when it’s met with silence Anetra glances down to her side and breathes out a quiet laugh.

Marcia is slumped over, asleep, her head on Anetra’s shoulder. She’d been silent for a while, but Anetra hadn’t thought much of it, perhaps a little too singularly focused on the Destiny’s Child costume design she was working on instead of her overtired roommate next to her.

“Alright. Bedtime,” she murmurs, mostly for herself, not expecting a response.

First, she has to slip out from under Marcia without waking her, which she manages with a considerable amount of effort. She eases the laptop from the other woman’s lap, then plugs it in and lays it to rest on the coffee table. She moves to the kitchen to put away the tacos Marcia left out for her, feeling a delayed wave of tired gratitude at the gesture as she does, and finally sets the dishwasher to run as wipes down the countertops.

When she goes back to the living room, picking up pieces of paper and assorted trash as she does, Marcia is still out for the count. Her often-worried expression is always smoothed out when she sleeps, the normally constant lines of anxiety at her brow or temples thankfully absent.

Anetra stands there paralyzed for a second.

Something warm and sacred, a feeling that outpaces verbalization, beats in her chest.

Before she can let herself really feel it, Marcia is blinking awake, slowly, stirred by some invisible force, and whatever was striking through the lightning rod of Anetra’s body vanishes, renders her mobile again.

“R’you watching me sleep?” Marcia mumbles, teasing, stretching her body out long from the tightly curled position she had fallen asleep in.

Anetra tosses one of the crumpled pieces of paper she grabbed off the floor at the blonde’s head to take some of the weight out of the air between them. “Obviously,” she says, lobbing the joke right back. “How else am I finally going to achieve my mission of killing you after all these years?”

Marcia catches the paper ball out of the air easily, yawning as she does so. “Playing the long game, I see,” she replies. The bit isn’t worth entertaining further, so Anetra doesn’t try, instead goes to grab Marcia’s arm so she can haul her up off the couch.

“Come on, bed,” she coaxes. “You hate sleeping on the couch. It’s a bad couch, we should get a new one.”

“Nee-trah,” Marcia whines, gone childish with sleep, and Anetra just shakes her head and sighs before bending at her knees to throw Marcia over her shoulder like she weighs nothing.

She does this all the time, it’s a bit between them, but it used to be harder, before superstrength. It seems like an obvious statement, but it speaks to something she’s learning over and over again: her life has been irrevocably changed. She is different now, as much as she doesn’t want to be.

Marcia shrieks out a surprised laugh and flails wildly for a minute, like she always does just to be funny, but then she goes limp so it’s easier for Anetra to carry her.

“Should fall asleep on the couch more often,” she muses appreciatively, her voice getting raspier as she lets her drowsiness creep back over her, and Anetra snorts, jostling her a little bit to at least keep her awake until she can toss her on her bed. “What time do you have to get up tomorrow?”

“Not till nine or something,” Anetra replies, punctuating her statement by throwing Marcia over her shoulder onto her crumpled bedspread, then launches herself into the air to land hard at her side, giggling at the way the mattress momentarily buckles under her. “I don’t work tomorrow. What about you?”

Marcia flops over on her stomach and groans against the fabric of her quilt. “Seven. I don’t have class till nine, but Jan wants me in early so we can talk logistics for the recital at the end of the week.” She turns her head to smile beatifically in Anetra’s direction. “No chance you wanna go in my stead? Deal with Jan’s mania?”

Anetra winces and shakes her head vigorously. “Nope.” She stretches her arms long over her head, then looks over to where Marcia’s pouting and laughs. “What if I bring you lunch? We can eat together after your class.”

Marcia visibly brightens and nods. “Yes, please. Suki’s?”

Anetra hops up off of Marcia’s bed and salutes. “Tomorrow at noon,” she promises.

“It’s a date,” Marcia answers, yawns. Her eyes start to fall closed with the end of the conversation, and Anetra stands in the doorway for just a moment.

She had a crush on Marcia, way back when in those early days, debilitating and whole-heart-seizing. Her mouth went useless whenever her roommate asked her a question, and her heart would pick up to a terrible, pointless speed whenever the other girl leaned over her to plug in her phone or to grab the last egg out of the fridge.

Recognizing immediately that falling for your roommate is a terrible cliché at best and severely endangering your living situation at worst, Anetra never gave the feeling air, since it would’ve been more than a little stupid. She put her nose to the ground and worked her ass off, waitressing at the bar during the day and dancing at night, and eventually, with no time to dedicate to it, the crush died off like an uncared-for plant.

Marcia’s her best friend, and she wouldn’t trade that for anything, but sometimes that crush wakes up a little bit, shifts and rumbles around her chest.

Maybe it was never really asleep. Maybe, by not giving something air, all you do is make it writhe around and become more stubborn, more insistent.

Well. Whatever. She never told Marcia then, and she certainly can’t tell her now. It would be foolish to think something ever could come of it besides losing the closest person in her life.

She’s been working to get over this feeling for years—for years—at this point. She will, she can.

She leaves the doorway and goes down the hall to her room, slamming a mental lid shut on her waxing nostalgia as she does so.

As soon as her bedroom door falls shut behind her, Anetra shucks off the top layer she has on, her sweatshirt and pants discarded so that she’s just wearing her suit, then shrugs her way out of that too. She shuffles down the hall to their shared bathroom just in her bra and underwear, and sits heavily on the toilet lid to assess the damage from the fight earlier.

She sighs as she probes her various bruises with light fingers, flinching at the deep pain she can feel beneath the faintly tinged skin. Tomorrow, they’ll all be vibrant and awful and hard to explain, but for now all she’s got is a terrible ache, with no evidence of its presence. It’s kind of infuriating.

Other than her for-now-invisible bruises, her nose is tender from the hit earlier, but otherwise seems fine, and even though she sustained a few really rough hits it seems like she didn’t break any bones.

Once it’s established that altogether, she’s fine, she exhales, heavy. Heavy enough that her shoulders start to curl inwards with the deflation of her lungs. Her neck goes loose, and her head slumps forward over her chest.

She’s so tired.

It’s a kind of tired that has settled in her bones. She can’t sleep this off, she can’t shake this easily. The only way it feels like she’d be able to rest again, really rest, would be to hang up the mask, sitting in the pocket of her hoodie down the hall, for good.

She’s in too deep with this whole flip-side world to even entertain the idea of doing that.

For a while, she stares blankly at the tile at her feet—it’s cheap New York apartment tile, unevenly discolored and easy to stare at while you get lost in thought—but eventually, her aching body necessitates getting up from the uncomfortable toilet lid and picking her way back down the hall.

As she walks through her bedroom door, she strips off her bra and throws on a shirt to sleep in (it says EVERYBODY GET FOOTLOOSE! in egregiously large letters on the back, leading Anetra to believe that one of Marcia’s show shirts might have found its way into her laundry) before hauling her pained, overworked body into bed.

She’s exhausted enough that her eyes fall closed automatically, but then that memory from the alley today flashes behind her lids like a vision.

It’s the not knowing that kills her. The first few weeks of having powers was like this, too, a whole new world of danger where every other step was a stumble, but there were no consequences then. If she trips up now, with this mysterious woman on her tail, then she’s just going to fall and fall.

She needs to get her feet under her before that happens, she thinks to herself, turning over in bed and yanking the covers up to her chin. She doesn’t work tomorrow, so after lunch with Marcia, she can throw the mask on and snoop around under the radar, see what she can find out about this person who wants her dead. Once she has something like a plan in place, the anxiety’s clawed grip on her neck and chest relaxes slightly, allowing her to slip out of consciousness.

It doesn’t leave Anetra in complete peace, though. Her dreams are flashes of pure horror, painted in wailing, assaulting color, and she jolts awake soaked in sweat and pinned to the mattress with fear.

Her alarm clock reads 8:48. She knows she won’t get back to sleep, so she peels herself out of bed and walks out into the empty apartment with some half-baked idea of making some breakfast. She catches her sallow-looking reflection in the hallway mirror on her way to the kitchen, and points some finger guns at it.

“Lookin’ good,” she jokes softly, for absolutely no audience but herself, and tries to smile. It’s kind of freakish with how bad her eye bags have gotten, so she just stops looking. She makes a mental note to ask Marcia if she can raid the huge tub of different skincare products she has going in the bathroom, see if anything will fix the skin issues brought on by becoming a neighborhood superhero.

Because she has the morning free, she uses the time to take care of business.

First, she dunks her whole suit in a bucket and scrubs at the bloody patches with hydrogen peroxide until the water runs clear, then goes downstairs to the laundry room to chuck the whole mess in a washing machine. While she waits for the cycle to be done, she turns on some mindless show and cleans out the gunk from her webshooters, meticulously picking at the mechanisms with a bobby pin. Once she’s moved the suit over to the dryer, she folds herself up all wonky on the couch and searches up some variation of “femme mob boss new york” for at least an hour until she gives up because she realizes it’s pointless and at this rate she might end up on a watchlist.

She doesn’t have a guy in the chair, okay? It’s just her stupid ass stuck with trying to figure out all this shit. Sometimes Google has answers.

After her pointless search, it’s just a matter of finally changing out of her pajamas, getting her suit out of the dryer and putting it in her backpack, and then hauling ass to Suki’s so she can beat the lunch rush and make it to Marcia’s studio in time.

They’re regulars here. It’s an oft-established pattern at this point, really. Whenever Anetra comes in to pick up lunch, Suki is usually there, and will try to engage Anetra in a conversation in Japanese, which Anetra definitely can’t speak. Then she inevitably switches to English, and asks after Marcia and what bullshit their neighbors are up to this month.

“When are you going to make that girl stop eating only vegetables?” she asks ruefully now, packaging up their order behind the counter. “Not healthy.”

“She’s vegetarian, Suki,” Anetra tells her with a snort, filching one of the mints from the register dish. “It’s a moral choice.”

Suki just clicks her tongue. “She needs meat,” she mumbles stubbornly. “Twig of a thing. You are certainly a bad friend if you aren’t making her eat meat.”

“I’ll let you know how me telling her that goes over,” Anetra replies, rolling her eyes good-naturedly, and opens her phone to check Marcia’s location. She’s on the north side of the building, so she’s still stuck in her first-grade class. The parents are probably bugging her again.

“Oh! I have news,” Suki says eagerly, interrupting Anetra’s idle scrolling, and Anetra locks her phone and puts it to the side, giving the older woman her full attention. “That Spider? On the news? I saw her.”

Anetra feels her body temperature shoot up exponentially, then plummet. She shivers without being aware of it. “Come on. What?” she scoffs, knowing she’s laying on the disbelief a little thick.

“In the alley outside of my apartment a week ago,” Suki says, and nods seriously. “With my own two old eyes. These two fuckers—” Suki prioritizes learning curse words in practicing her English—“were in the alley, breaking glass of my building, spraying paint all over the side of the wall, and then before I could even turn from the window, there she was! Immediately!”

“Everyone thinks it’s a man,” Anetra says carefully. Her throat hurts suddenly. She remembers that day. Two little racist shits, spraying awful words on the wall, a bruised old man slumped against the side of the dumpster who had probably tried to stop them earlier. “Did you see the face?”

“Ah, no,” Suki says, and Anetra’s heart only calms a tiny bit. “If everyone thinks it’s a man and it isn’t, then I can be the only one who is right.”

“It’s probably just some dude trying to be a hero,” Anetra says dismissively, and Suki raises an eyebrow, shakes her head vigorously. “He’s probably already tired of it.”

“Sophie, in my kitchen, she also saw the Spider in an alley. Last night! Last night, she saw her! Sophie, come here!”

A girl in an apron and a hairnet pokes her head through the swinging kitchen door, a fresh black eye ripening on her face, and Anetra’s eyes widen before she can stop her reaction.

The fucking girl from last night.

“Sophie, you saw the Spider! Right?”

“They saved me,” Sophie says kind of quietly, not coming any farther into the restaurant. “Some guy pulled me into an alley when I was walking home, and they—they got him off of me, I was able to run.”

Anetra swallows hard. “Wow,” she says, tries to nod. She’s never seen anyone she’s saved after the fact before. It makes her chest tight, her eyes burn. “That’s—I’m glad you’re okay.”

“See? She saw the Spider too! She is helping us,” Suki says determinedly, jabbing a finger against the countertop. “She is real.”

She’s holding the order in one hand, so Anetra grabs it from her quickly, stumbles backwards a little bit. “I. Um. I have to get this to Marcia, Suki. Sorry. Bye, Sophie.”

Suki eyes her a little too closely for comfort. “Okay,” is all she says. “Have a good day, Anetra. Say hello to Marcia.”

Anetra scrambles out the front door, bag clenched tightly in her fist. The box she keeps the Spider in in her head breaks open, bursts free, spills webs and fear and responsibility all over every other thought in her head.

She’s kept the two parts of her life separate for months now, she’s been okay, but now they’re coming together in a way that sets her teeth on edge. Is Suki in danger now? She’s unknowingly closer than a lot of news outlets to guessing who the Spider is. What about that girl, Sophie? Will she be all right? Did saving her once mean that she’ll be a bigger target later?

The streets seem too fenced in by the lofty skyscrapers on all sides all of a sudden, and Anetra feels trapped. She bows her head and walks faster, tucking her chin closer to her chest.

Marcia’s studio building comes rising into her periphery, all light metal and huge panes of glass, but the gorgeous design doesn’t soothe Anetra like it usually does. All she can think is how exposed that building is, how anyone could look in and see her with Marcia on almost any floor of the studio.

When she walks in, though, the panic abates slightly. No one here is talking about the Spider. It’s a uniquely focused atmosphere, the way taekwondo tournaments were for her back in the day. No one is talking about anything but the thing they came here to do, from the tiny six-year-olds enthusing about pliés to their beleaguered parents to the sharp-featured prima ballerina running through her fitness program with her teacher.

Anetra maneuvers through the herds of different layers of tulle to get to the front desk, where Robin, the desk receptionist, hands over a guest pass badge without asking for Anetra’s ID and gives her a tired smile.

“Hard day?” Anetra asks, and it’s settling, to go through this familiar exchange.

“It’s the first day of a camp week,” Robin says dryly. “A million little kids, all sprinting around this huge studio space, and all the upperclassmen think that it’s suddenly my fault that these children are underfoot even though this happens every single fucking year—sorry,” she edits herself, not sounding sorry at all. “Every single year.”

“Yikes,” Anetra says, laughing a little bit.

“Go give Marcia her lunch break, she needs it,” Robin tells her dismissively, waving her hand in the direction of the elevator. “Everyone gets fucked over on a new camp week. She definitely hasn’t sat down all day.”

Anetra gives a little salute. “Will do,” she confirms, tapping the top of Robin’s desk to punctuate her statement. “Good luck not getting fucked over.”

“Honestly, I fucking wish I could get fucked over—I won’t get to see my girlfriend until next week at this rate with the overtime hours they’ve stuck me on,” Robin mutters, slouching in her chair.

Laughing at the other woman’s exaggerated pout, Anetra begins to mime obscenely making out with the back of her hand until Robin screeches at her to stop, and then she hightails it to the elevator while giggling as the other woman readies to chuck something at her head.

She just barely wedges herself into the packed space, and her phone buzzes as the doors close.

FROM: marcia 🌸💖💫🧚💕🌷💗✨💝

SOS!!!!!!!!!

The nine exclamation points are honestly pretty typical for a text from Marcia, but the all-caps is a slight flag for alarm—when the elevator doors slide open to the sixth floor, Anetra steps with a quick pace past all the other open studios to get to the one at the end of the long hall.

“I’m sorry, but I really believe—” is the first thing Anetra hears, Marcia’s voice sounding more than a little exhausted. Marcia is sweet, the sweetest person Anetra knows, but she’s not a pushover, and her voice has taken on that edge that it does when you’re about to cross her line.

“I don’t care,” a woman’s voice interrupts. “You don’t bring this shit into a classroom. That’s for whatever you do at home—Lord knows I don’t agree with that, either, but you will not get my daughter involved in this life you chose.”

She pauses, likely about to barrel into an even more fervent tirade, but that’s when Anetra makes her entrance, unaware of the exact circumstances but ready to roll with pretty much anything.

“Marcia?” she asks, schooling her face into a pout of concern as she pokes her head into the studio space. “Sorry to interrupt, I just thought your lunch break started a few minutes ago.” She holds up the bag from Suki’s, then cuts her gaze pointedly to the clock above the door.

Marcia’s posture noticeably relaxes at the sight of her. A tiny smile flickers across her face.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, ‘Netra, I’m just wrapping up here,” she says sunnily, then turns back to the woman who has a blood vessel popping in her forehead. “I’m so sorry, but as I said, the Pride parade march was a clearly labeled part of this week’s camp, and if your child showed distinct interest that comes from them, not from me. If you’d like for them not to attend, that is between you and your kid and I don’t get involved. If there’s nothing else—” Marcia tilts her head and beams, her eyes flashing dangerously—“I only get an hour for lunch, and I’m going to spend it with my girlfriend.”

It’s a joke, a bit, and one they’ve done more than a few times to get out of sticky situations like this, actually, but Anetra’s cheeks never fail to warm at least a little bit when Marcia calls her that, even if it’s to make a point to a bigoted woman in a kid’s dance studio.

“This isn’t over,” the woman in question grinds out through a clenched jaw, crossing her arms over her chest. Despite her words, she thankfully abandons the conversation and stalks over to the other side of the room where her kid has been chatting with their classmates.

Anetra waves brightly at the woman’s retreating back. “Have a nice day,” she chirps, and Marcia barely manages to suppress a snort of laughter at the false tone as she walks over to meet her.

“Hey,” she says softly, her posture sloping forward into Anetra’s orbit, reaching out a hand to tug at the sleeve of her t-shirt. She’s like this, always; she needs to touch things to get herself back. Anetra has never once minded. She mirrors it and leans in right back.

“Rough morning?” Anetra says, keeping her voice low so the kids still packing up across the room won’t hear their conversation.

Marcia rubs her temples and manages a dead-eyed smile. “No. Why do you ask?”

Anetra slings an arm around her shoulders and traces a soothing pattern with her thumb. “I’ve got an order of veggie rolls with your name on it,” she says sweetly. “Plus we have a whole hour of your break for you to rant about everything that went wrong with camp today.”

“I don’t want to waste your time…” Marcia protests feebly, but it’s just noise and she knows it, knows that they both understand the entirety of lunch will be spent with her complaining and Anetra nodding along gamely. A grin breaks through, a real one, and she rests her head on Anetra’s shoulder happily.

Anetra is watching the last of the kids trickle out the door, waving to the few that are return dancers from last year that recognize her as Marcia’s roommate, when she feels Marcia stiffen next to her.

“Wh—” she starts asking, beginning to turn to check in, but then there’s the light touch of fingers on her cheek that finish the job for her and she’s looking right in Marcia’s eyes, inches away.

The prickle she’s been growing resignedly used to over these past few months skitters up and down her spine, the one that tells her pay attention or something’s up. The noise of it, the feel of it folds easily into the whole-body hum that’s happening under Marcia’s focused gaze, until everything in her is tuned towards the blond standing at her side.

“Trust me,” Marcia whispers, so quietly she barely moves her lips, and then when Anetra has nodded without even entirely being aware she’s done it Marcia is leaning in, kissing Anetra square on the mouth.

They’re two queer roommates. They’re open and generous with sexuality, that’s kind of in the handbook. They’ve made out when they’re drunk before on a dare, Marcia kisses Anetra on the cheek when she gets home sometimes. Casual intimacy is nothing new for them.

This is the same as all of that on the surface—Anetra doesn’t know why she’s being kissed soundly under the fluorescent lights of the studio, she assumes it’s for some bigger reason—but this is the first time she’s ever felt Marcia’s lips against hers when she’s completely sober. This is the first time she can taste that stupid expensive chapstick Marcia always buys, a waxy herbal flavor over top the sensation of spit and flesh.

Marcia pulls away, her eyes a universe, and Anetra’s constant crush is snapping at her heels again. This time, though, she can’t push it away—it’s gained sharper, exigent teeth.

She blinks a few times, and the world around them, which had faded into silence, comes crashing back in with sound and color, the studio space now apparently empty and the lights overhead seeming even brighter in the absence of anyone else in the room.

“Um,” is all she can manage. She casts around for a joke to make, something to make it seem like she wasn’t as affected by that as she was. Marcia is just smiling at her like it’s a regular Tuesday.

“Sorry, that fucking parent’s watching us through the window,” Marcia tells her, inclining her head just slightly, and Anetra whips around not-at-all-subtly to see the woman from before duck out of the hallway when she realizes she’s been caught. “Wanted to give her a little bit of a show.”

“Ah,” Anetra says weakly, the realization that she actually maybe never got over her crush on her roommate making her voice shake a little on its way out. “No, yeah, totally. Stick it to the man. Or woman.”

“Anyway,” Marcia continues breezily. “You have Suki’s for me, and I got an hour. Wanna eat up on the roof?”

Anetra just nods, and Marcia pushes off the wall they were leaning against to go grab her bag from the corner. Anetra takes the time to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth and shut away all of this to be dealt with later.

Being the Spider is hard. It’s the hardest thing she’s ever had to do. But most of the problems that arise from that can be solved with a well-placed punch or a couple webs tangling something (or someone) up.

This isn’t that.

She’s still got to do some reconnaissance on this person who’s got it out for her today. After lunch, she can swing around for a while and hope that a solution to this newly reinvigorated crush appears in the skyline while she does so.

Marcia skips back over to her, smiling wide.

“Ready to listen to me for an hour?”

It was sunny when Anetra left home, but it’s overcast and a little drizzly now. Neither of them mind as they curl up in two plastic chairs sat opposite each other on the roof, the access door propped open behind them with Marcia’s class binder.

Anetra can almost forget the charged moment in the studio, chucking the wrappers of the plastic silverware at each other and laughing at the stories Marcia tells about her kids’ antics.

“Fucking Michael F., then, what does he decide to do? Tries to execute a lift with Marie without telling me first. Not only does that not fit at all with the choreography, they’re also eight. They can’t tie their own fucking slippers up.”

Anetra nods sagely, like she’s also an experienced dance teacher and not some half-waitress half-dancer at a gay bar. “I think—” she starts, but then the access door creaks open.

That prickle, again, at the back of her neck, except this time Marcia shows no signs of suddenly jumping her bones, so Anetra sits up straight, casts an eye around, feels around for her backpack with the suit and webshooters in it.

“Hey,” she hears from behind them, and although her mind relaxes at the recognizable voice, her body stays alert, won’t shut down all her heightened warning systems.

“Hey, Kerri,” Marcia says through a mouthful of sushi, waving with her chopsticks. “Finally got a break?”

“Yes, finally,” Kerri grumbles, shuffling towards them, running a hand over her face.

Kerri is the prima of the company’s production of Swan Lake that they’re putting on this season. Marcia is Anetra’s favorite at the studio, always, unquestionably, but Kerri is raw fucking talent. She’s still young, but moves with the lithe grace of someone with twice her training. She dances so fluidly, all while keeping her eyes locked on some invisible, unreachable horizon. She’s kind of miraculous.

She’s also, at this moment, looking more than a little exhausted when she slumps into one of the vacant chairs by the two of them. Kerri and Marcia continue to chat for a while using dancer jargon Anetra only barely has a grasp of, and Anetra just sits there silently, her whole body ringing in alarm like a sheet of metal someone hit with a hammer.

Her knee jogs up and down anxiously. She has no reason to be afraid of Kerri. She knows Kerri, not well, true, but she’s been in Marcia’s orbit since she was a newbie at the studio. So why is she on high alert?

“You okay?”

Marcia’s voice cuts through the static of Anetra’s overpowered sense input, clear concern coloring her tone.

“Yeah, I—yeah,” Anetra says, shaking her head slightly as if jostling something loose. The ringing in her ears has grown louder. “Yes. Sorry. I just have to get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Marcia replies, obviously still worried. She gets to her feet quickly, gathers up all their trash. “I’ll talk to you about being a TA for that technique class next week?” she asks Kerri, and when she gets an elegant nod she smiles. “Okay, great. My lunch break’s over, anyway. Let’s get going, ‘Netra.”

Anetra nods a little weakly, almost unable to hear over the buzzing in her ears. Marcia takes her hand loosely, and she lets herself be tugged down the stairwell back down to the lobby. Every sound is grotesquely amplified, every light feels too bright. The months-old bite on her calf pulses and aches.

“Is it a migraine?” Marcia asks softly, and it sounds like Anetra’s listening to her from several feet underwater.

“No,” she tries to say as normally as possible, tries to achieve how she would normally sound. “No, I think I’m fine. I just need to go home.”

“I’ll walk you home,” Marcia tells her immediately, determined, and Anetra shakes her head again, maybe a little too quickly.

PAY ATTENTION. SOMETHING’S GOING ON; PAY ATTENTION. EYES UP, EYES UP, EYES UP.

She only gets this feeling when something’s about to happen. Usually, it’s an attack of some sort. She’s not endangering Marcia, not if there’s even the ghost of a chance that she’ll get hurt.

“I’ll be fine, Mar. I’ll text you,” she says dismissively, and the words sound small even to her, but they get Marcia to loosen her grip on Anetra’s arm.

“I… okay. Text me. I’ll see you at home?”

Anetra hates that she can hear the new uncertainty in Marcia’s voice. She hates that she knows that she put it there.

“I’ll see you at home,” she echoes, trying to put every bit of certainty she has into this one statement.

Marcia swallows, and Anetra can feel her eyes on her back as she all but runs out of the studio.

Once she’s out of sight of that terribly windowed building in an alley a block or so south, Anetra sinks to the ground, pressing the heels of her hands into her eye sockets.

“Ow,” she mutters. “Jesus Christ, this cannot be useful.”

She tucks herself behind a dumpster, strips and then pulls on her suit and mask. Her mind throbs.

She sprints up the wall, gets to a roof, and tries to breathe, gives in to the alarm bells her powers have been sounding off for the past few minutes straight. Her body tenses into a ready position instantly—she’s discerned over the past couple weeks that this feeling is most similar to a panic attack.

The adrenaline spike is overwhelming, but it’s all intentional, directed, pointed towards a prerogative that she hasn’t been clued in on yet. Sometimes, when she’s too scrambled, when she can’t follow the thread being led out for her, the heightened senses misfire and she ends up with a debilitating migraine.

She can’t afford to be laid up for the rest of the day; she needs to solve this, now.

“Okay,” she mumbles aloud to herself, darting up to the roof easily and casting a long, searching look to the streets below, letting her senses take over. “Okay, what are you trying to tell me?”

She cuts through the ambient noise of the city without effort to zero in on whatever anomaly is present, ignoring yelling children and car horns and—there.

A tug in her lower gut, not dissimilar to the feeling when a rollercoaster is about to drop, as she’s honing in on an alley in Midtown.

She’s swinging her way there before she even makes the conscious decision to do so.

When she lands hard on the ground in an abandoned stretch of sidewalk, she can feel her heartbeat in her teeth, every single cell in her body screaming at her that something is going to happen.

She rounds a corner, makes it to the alley she felt her hackles raise for, and the awful feeling somehow intensifies.

This is the alley from last night. Her blood is still drying on the wall a couple yards down.

Immediately, she’s up on the balls of her feet. If those fuckers from last night are back, she’ll pull absolutely no punches this time. This was a trap, that’s why, that’s why the space behind her eyes feels like it’s imploding.

She runs farther into the alley, fists up and head low, but no one bursts out—she stands there in the wind-whistling silence, tensed for a fight that isn’t coming.

Her shoulders drop. She’s breathing hard under the mask, and a spill of light blooms in her left eye, signaling an impending migraine.

“What do you want?” she screams to no one, and of course no one answers. She whirls around, ready to just punch the wall behind her until her suit tears and her knuckles bleed, but what she sees painted there makes her stop dead in her tracks.

A too-clean, too-perfect graffiti painting of her mask.

COME FIND MOTHER is painted in large, stark, even letters under the enormous paint job, a signature, a command.

Oh, fuck.

The dizziness that comes with all her migraines hits her in a terrible wave, and she has to sit down, staring up at the likeness of her face on the wall as it stares right back, the red slash painted over the left eye of the mask just like it is in real life.

Mother, she thinks through the oncoming fog, racks her brain and comes up with nothing. No one she knows of would use that as their moniker—it’s too old-fashioned, too traditionally powerful.

This development is newly unnerving. The city’s underground power structure is against the Spider, obviously, but none of them have actively singled her out yet besides this new player.

Mother isn’t like the rest of that structure, anyway; Mother is an unknown. Anetra doesn’t know what she’s capable of. And that makes her a hell of a lot more dangerous than the slimy mob bosses she’s used to fucking with, and this callout becomes a lot more fucking substantial.

Anetra stands up, her left eye beginning to black out with the migraine, and she stumbles a little bit. Home. She has to get home.

Unable to brave the subway in this state, and even more unable to walk the many, many blocks home, Anetra hobbles her way to the nearest northbound L tracks, casts a web to swing herself onto the top of the oncoming train and just hunkers down once she’s landed.

The wind is cool through her mask, soothing against the rising temperature of her skin, but it does nothing to calm her thoughts.

She feels stupid and small.

When she was a kid, and she wished for superpowers in the same way that every kid does, it was a fantasy about finally, finally having some control over her little life. No one can tell you what to do if you can punch through walls or fly at the speed of light.

The thing that her child brain couldn’t comprehend, though, is that your problems grow at a speed that outpaces your ability. If you could fly at the speed of light, then some time-space continuum thing would probably crop up that you wouldn’t be able to fix even with that speed. If you could punch through walls, then maybe you wouldn’t be able to punch through walls fast enough to save anyone.

And if you can swing around on webs and have a sense for danger, maybe someone will hunt you down for it, and you’ll have no idea how to stop them or who they even are.

Her migraine begins in earnest right as she stumbles through the front door, managing to lock it behind her as she walks through the house, closing all the curtains before the pain gets unmanageable.

“Suit,” she mumbles to herself. “Suit’s gotta come off.”

She flings it over her chair in the corner, then chucks a blanket over it as an afterthought to keep it hidden. Even that small action makes her head pulse. She grabs Marcia’s pajama shirt she threw on the bed this morning and tugs it back on before falling over top of the pillows, unable to even cross the room to close her own blinds.

She doesn’t sleep—she never can when she has a migraine. She just lays there until it passes. Usually, she feels the warning signs and prepares, grabs a cold rag and fills her waterbottle, but now she’s in the thick of it and all she can do is brace her body and wait for it to end.

Her door creaks open quietly after about an hour, and the small sound may as well be an ice pick above her left eye. She makes a small, pathetic, embarrassing little noise at the sensation.

Once the sharp ache dips back into a dull thud of pain, there’s soft footsteps over to the side of the bed, then the heavenly sensation of a cold towel being pressed to her neck—Marcia, Anetra thinks, and feels her whole body relax, just a little bit.

“You’re okay, baby,” Marcia murmurs, barely a whisper, the noise not aggravating the thrumming pain under Anetra’s skull. “I’m gonna close these curtains, make it darker in here.”

The word ‘baby’ sticks with Anetra for longer than it should.

Marcia closes all the blinds as quietly as she can, Anetra sighing at the slight relief it gives her, and then she comes back over to the side of the bed with Anetra’s waterbottle in her hand.

“You should drink water,” Marcia commands in her soft voice, and Anetra just sits up slowly, trying not to whimper at the pain the movement causes, and lets Marcia tip the bottle for her to drink from.

“‘M sorry,” she manages once she’s had a few sips.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Marcia murmurs automatically, then chews on her cheek for a second, just watching her. “Just… why didn’t you tell me you were having a migraine?” she murmurs, her expression unreadable in the dark room. “I would’ve walked you home.”

Anetra doesn’t have the brainpower to lie, so she slouches back down among the pillows, curling up on her side.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” she mumbles into the fabric of the sheets.

Marcia’s confusion is palpable. “No one was gonna hurt me at the studio if I walked you home, ‘Netra. I—camp is stressful, but it isn’t—you should’ve told me,” she says, then flinches when she realizes she spoke too loudly near the end.

“Yeah,” Anetra whispers. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Tell me next time,” Marcia says, her voice near-silent. “You shouldn’t have to—you have people who will take care of you.”

Anetra says nothing, her words all spent, so Marcia’s footsteps quietly retreat towards the door. The door handle turns softly, and without being fully aware she’s speaking Anetra hears her own voice—

“Stay?”

There’s nothing but the sound of two people breathing for a moment. Then, Marcia’s footsteps start again, this time coming closer to the bed, and Anetra feels the mattress dip as Marcia lays down, her body warm at.

“Is this o—” she hears Marcia begin, softly whispered then broken off into quiet, and instead of saying anything Anetra laces her fingers with Marcia’s and holds their hands together over her stomach.

Gently, Marcia’s thumb rubs over the fabric of Anetra’s pajama shirt, an unconscious, comforting movement.

“You’re okay, baby,” Marcia murmurs again. “It’s all right.”

It’s a running joke between them that Marcia is always right, about everything, for all time.

Everything is not okay, not in the grand scheme of things, but in this present moment, the world shrunk down to just two people, Marcia’s right.

Anetra’s okay. It’s all right.

[stillmumu]

Wracked with guilt over the explosion of dating rumours between her and up-and-coming star Marcia, pop sensation Anetra puts her reputation on the line to distract the press. When Sasha Colby offers to help, Anetra's "simple solution" gets a little... complicated.

A/N: Chapter 1 is up! Welcome to the DTIE universe. I’m so excited to share this with you all. Please stay a while. <3

[pink-grapefruit-cafe]

wip wednesday

say i were to be writing again, and its anarcia, what would the reaction be?

asking for a friend of course.

[lady-assnali]

Get to know me tag!!!!

I was tagged by @slutnetra :)

Three ships: currently? Anarcia, Rosenali, Crygi

First Ever Ship: oh, I was a hardcore Troy and Gabriella girl. They were the first fanfiction I ever wrote (by hand!) in my light up high school musical notebook ✨

Last Song: idk I was listening to Gracie Abrams as background music this morning so something of hers

Currently Reading: No Strings by Lucy Bexley (it’s cute, it’s very lesbian low key enemies/strained circumstances meet cute to lovers and I’m thinking found family. It’s good so far!

Currently Watching: Daisy Jones & The Six, looking forward to Maisel, and then randomly watching Rusical episodes

Currently Consuming: unsweetened black tea and I have a vegan gf cookie waiting for me for later

Currently craving: I’ve been craving this cookie since yesterday I was so sad that we didn’t get them before Jan’s show because I really could’ve used it coming back this morning.

If you want to do it, @thecollectionsof @jinkx-monswoon idk if you were tagged yet but here! 💖

[sexynetra]

SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY

Someone sit me down and make me finish the intro to chapter 8 I cannot keep coming up with new excuses to do other things 😭

~~~~~~

“No. Absolutely not.” Anetra crinkled her nose, holding the long wool coat an arms length away. It might as well have been radioactive, the way she physically recoiled from the Barbie pink coat. Marcia looked unimpressed, arms crossed.

“It’s 27 degrees out, and you’re trying to go out in just a sweater. No. I am not taking you to the emergency room for hypothermia because you’re too much of a baby to put on something that isn’t your style.

Anetra’s cheeks went red and she dropped her arm, the coat dragging against the floor. “That’s rich, coming from you. I think you’d shoot me dead if I told you to wear anything besides those prissy Gucci three piece outfits.”

“They’re Chanel.”

[orionsstory]

that kind of devotion | anarcia (8)

warnings for fire and general distress/threats in this chapter! as always you can check out the chapter on ao3 as well! I'd like to apologize in advance poor anetra goes through it

-

"Where are we going again?"

"Some bar my girlfriend and her friends are at." Aura called back, her eyes glued to the directions on her phone.

"Right. What's the occasion again?"

"Uhm...I think a promotion or something."

Anetra chuckled as they paused on the corner of the street, Aura looking intently at the two directions before them. She hesitated for a moment before leading them left.

"Are you sure you don't want me to do it?"

Aura waved her off. "No, no, it's okay- I got it. We're not gonna get lost like last time."

They did in fact get lost. Just like last time.

Anetra ended up taking the phone from Aura and correctly guiding them in the right direction. It may have taken an extra thirty minutes, but they finally arrived. Aura led them inside the club, weaving through the groups of people until her eyes lit up as she spotted a group. Her girlfriend practically lit up when she spotted the two, tossing herself into Aura's arms.

Anetra had to admit, they were cute. Aura had been going on and on about Robin for the past few weeks, so it was nice to put a face to a name. Her thoughts were interrupted when Aura introduced her to the others, elbowing the other girl at her comment. Was her resting bitch face really that bad?

She drew her attention to the other girls. She didn't recognize the one with curly blonde hair, but the other two seemed familiar. She couldn't place her finger on where until the club lights flashed, illuminating the girl with the straight blonde hair.

Marcia.

She felt panic flair up in her chest before she calmed herself down, panicking would only attract more attention to herself- maybe Marcia didn't even recognize her.

Marcia looked as if she was about to speak to say something to Anetra, but before that Aura pulled her away to grab drinks for the group. Aura, her saving grace. Temporarily, but that was better than nothing. They got to the bar, Aura repeated the drink orders to the bartender before turning her attention back to Anetra. They talked for a moment before her phone started to ring, she told Aura she'd be right back before heading out back to answer the call.

"Hello?" She answered, leaning back on the brick wall.

"Lotus, it's an emergency." Detective Barnes' voice echoed over the phone. "There's a fire at a store on 12th, it's believed to be linked to the perp."

"I'm on my way."

Anetra had to pretend to be calm as she made her way back inside, telling Aura there was an emergency and she had to leave. She rushed through the club, making her way to an empty alleyway before she jetted off to her apartment to change.

-

Now in her hero costume, she whipped through the air faster than she had ever flown before. The pit in her stomach only grew as she got closer, she began to see the smoke wafting up from the buildings. She quickly touched down onto the street- the fire was burning bright, engulfing almost the whole building. This was like nothing she had ever seen.

"Well, Lotus, it's nice to finally meet you in person." A voice giggled from above. Anetra lifted her head to see a figure standing in the sky. She had big, curly blonde hair and a red and black suit, a long cape flowing behind her. She could make out a red devil mask covering her eyes.

"You!" She spat out, readying herself to kick off before a noise interrupted her.

A weak call for help came from the burning building. Anetra's eyes widened at the realization.

"Make your choice, Lotus."

But Anetra didn't even hear the end of her sentence, already kicking out the glass in the window and making her way into the inferno.

The building was hot, even for her. Because of her fire powers, her body temperature was higher than regular people's, allowing her to better deal with high temperatures. But she could feel herself starting to sweat, which meant the person stuck here must be burning up.

"Where are you?" She called out as she began to search the premises, quickly clearing out all the rooms on the first floor. She heard a bump from upstairs, rushing up the burning stairs. She spotted a figure curled up in the corner of the room, hurriedly making her way over.

It was an old man, Anetra could tell he was still breathing but he was definitely in a fragile state. She kicked out the closest window, clearing the glass around the frame before picking up the old man. She cleared the window, careful not to cut the man with the glass before touching down on the other side of the street, gently laying him down on the ground.

She heard sirens approaching in the distance, looking up towards the sky- the woman was gone, Anetra cursed beneath her breath as she turned her attention back to the old man. She had some small bandages stored on her, getting to work on patching up his smaller cuts. He was starting to come back to consciousness, so Anetra helped him sit up as the ambulance rounded the corner.

"Are you okay, sir?"

"Y-yes ma'am, thank you."

Anetra helped the medics load the man into the ambulance, filling them in on the situation before they headed to the hospital. The fire department had extinguished the building by that point and was currently looking around inside for any evidence. She spotted Detective Barnes waving her over.

"Nice job, Lotus."

She sighed, running her hand through her hair. "I don't know. She got away."

Anetra felt a pang of guilt as she looked back at the charred building. Maybe if she had been quick enough, she could've caught up with the perp. Oh well- there was no use dwelling on it now. She and Barnes briefed each other on their accounts, Anetra describing the villain to him and Barnes explaining he believed the call came from her. That puzzled Anetra, why would she call in her own crime?

"Why would she do that? Did she...want to be caught?"

Barnes shook his head, "I don't think so. I think it might be an ego thing."

"Like she's taunting us?"

"Exactly that. She called from a burner phone, we found the smashed remains a few feet away from the building."

Anetra sighed, "She's smart, I'll give her that."

Another officer approached sheepishly, handing a note to Anetra. She groaned, already knowing what it was. The other officer beckoned Barnes to follow him, leaving Anetra alone. That was certainly odd, but whatever. She didn't think this one would be much different from the others.

She unfolded the paper, her eyes scanning over the words. She froze, a lump forming in her throat. That couldn't be right. She re-read the letter again and again, her heartbeat increasing each time.

There, in pretty cursive handwriting, was Anetra's full name and address.

-

She spent the next three hours patrolling, her mind racing and in full panic mode. Had her files been breached? It wasn't impossible, she knew it'd happened before, but who would risk their job over such a low-ranking hero? The more likely scenario in her mind was that she had been sloppy, that this villain had been keeping track of her moves and used it to find out where she lived. She cursed herself for being so careless.

Her phone ringing jolted her out of her trance, Sasha's photo lighting up her screen.

"Hello?" She croaked out. God, she hadn't realized how tired she was.

"Stop patrolling and go to bed. You sound awful."

She sighed, touching down on top of a building. She stumbled a bit as she sat, her body exhausted. She knew Sasha was right, her body was screaming for her to rest, but she couldn't.

"I can't, Sash."

"What happened?"

Anetra took a deep breath before spitting everything out- the fire, actually seeing the villain, and the note. She felt chills run up her body as she recounted it to Sasha, her voice tired and weak. Sasha, as patient as ever, listened to her rambling that she was certain didn't make sense. She couldn't stop kicking herself for not only putting herself but also Sasha in the path of danger.

"Neech, baby. Listen to me. I'm okay and so are you. She might have the address, but there's no way she's getting into that building. It's one of the most secure in the city. So please, go home and get some rest. I'll be back in three days, okay?"

"But-"

"No buts. She hasn't even tried to fight you, she knows you're stronger than her. You'd beat her ass in an instant. There's no way she's coming close to the building."

Anetra took a shaky breath. "Yeah. Yeah...you're right."

"Of course I am. I love you, Neech. We'll be okay. I'll get extra security if that'll reassure you."

"It would. Thank you, Sash. I love you too."

Sasha stayed on the phone with her as she made her way back to the apartment, her eyes scanning the area for the blonde villain. She was on high alert, only letting her guard down once she had searched every corner of the apartment for a bug or wiretap. Once she was sure, she passed out, clinging onto Mr. Quack.

She had that dream again. That nightmare. Sasha's screams and Marcia's blood-stained body. She woke with a start, finding it nearly impossible to get the image out of her mind. It took her a while to drift back off again, but her sleep remained restless. She tossed and turned, still feeling exhausted when she woke up.

She tried to focus on things she enjoyed, she took a walk in the park and watched the ducks, and she went to the gym to work some of the stress off, but none of it seemed to help. She found it hard to find joy in any of the activities, instead, she was constantly watching her back. Her mind was an anxious swirl of dark thoughts and dread, she could feel herself becoming overwhelmed by the emotions.

-

It only worsened the day after, the ring of her cell phone interrupting the first decent sleep she had been able to have. She groggily sat up, her eyes narrowing on the unknown number. She reasoned it might be a client, so she sighed as she clicked the answer button.

"Hello?"

"Anetra, how are you?"

That voice. It was her- the villain. She bolted to attention, already texting Barnes about the situation. If they could track the call, they may be able to find her and capture her.

"Who are you?"

"Right to business, hm? People have no manners these days." She hears the girl cackle over the phone, "You don't need to know who I am. Not yet."

"What do you want?"

"Just wanted to talk. Figured you were probably quite stressed after last night." Anetra scowled as the girl giggled.

"You could have killed that man, you know."

"Please, I figured you'd save him. But if you didn't...well, I wouldn't have been too upset."

"You're disgusting."

"Careful there. You may have been able to save this one, but you may not be so lucky in the future."

"Is that a threat?"

"Perhaps...maybe you should keep an eye on that blonde girl...what's her name again?"

Anetra felt her blood run cold and a pit building up in her stomach. She stayed silent as she listened to the woman on the other line humming.

"Oh, that's right- Marcia."

Anetra felt her fear turn into rage, her fists clenched around the bed sheets.

"Leave her alone." She spat.

"Strikes a nerve, does it? Good to know..."

"Fuck with me all you want, but leave her out of this. She doesn't know anything."

"Are you sure about that? Well, I have to run anyway. Nice try, but I know you sent your little police officers after me. Ta-ta, Anetra."

The phone clicked off, leaving Anetra there with her thoughts. If she wasn't stressed out before, she was now. The idea that some villain might be stalking Marcia, that she might hurt her, scared Anetra to no end. She tossed her phone aside, staring up at the ceiling in an attempt to calm herself down.

-

Sasha came home two days later and immediately noticed something was wrong.

"Have you been eating?"

Anetra avoided her gaze as Sasha dropped her bags down beside the couch. She had tried to fix her appearance so as not to worry her, but it was obvious that hadn't worked. Ever since the call from that morning, Anetra had spent most of her free time patrolling. She hadn't exactly been taking care of herself, but she didn't think Sasha would have picked up on it that easily.

"Neech...what happened?"

Anetra took a shaky breath, "I got another call...she...she brought up Marcia."

Sasha took a seat beside her, rubbing her back soothingly. "Oh, baby...so you've been working yourself to death, hm?"

Anetra nodded, practically collapsing into Sasha's arms.

"I'm so mad at myself. She doesn't deserve this. Fuck, how could I be so careless?"

"It's not like this is a common occurrence. This is pretty unheard of, even for more famous heroes." Sasha comforted her, rubbing circles into her back. "Have you told Marcia?"

It hadn't even crossed her mind. She felt guilty about it, of course, but she was also worried. She was worried that Marcia wouldn't trust her anymore. She wouldn't blame her- she didn't deserve to be stalked because Anetra liked her. It's why she hadn't talked to her in three days.

"Is that a no?"

Anetra nodded, groaning. "I haven't talked to her since...all that happened. I'm scared, Sasha."

"I understand, but you need to tell her."

"I know...I'm just...scared she'll hate me."

"Neech, she's not going to hate you. But still, for her safety, you need to tell her. Ignoring her won't make her safer."

"Fuck...you're right. God, how am I going to tell her?"

"You should be honest. You'd do anything to keep her safe, right?"

"Of course."

"Then tell her that too. She trusts you a lot, I promise it'll go better than you think."

Anetra nods, sniffling. She opens up her phone, her screen filled with missed texts and calls from Marcia. She opens up the text thread, her eyes landing on the last message sent that morning.

Marcia🎀 is everything okay? you haven't answered me in a while...

She felt a pang of guilt as she read the message. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed out a response.

I'm sorry. Can I talk to you tonight?

Marcia🎀 of course.

Anetra felt a slight sense of relief flow through her. She just hoped Marcia would understand.

-

She spent the rest of the day with Sasha who helped snap her out of her funk. She was grateful, she felt less anxious than she had the past few days. She still felt a bit shaky, but it was an improvement nonetheless.

As their meeting time drew closer, Anetra began to rehearse what she would say to Marcia. She ran through all of the scenarios that might happen, preparing herself for all of them. Finally, it came time to leave. She nervously suited up, taking a deep breath in to try and calm herself.

She flew a bit slower than she usually did, her nerves spiking as she grew closer. Eventually, she reached Marcia's apartment. She hesitated for a moment, glancing around before gently knocking three times on Marcia's window. She heard some pacing in the room before the pink curtain drew back, Marcia now in front of her. She gently pushed the window open, looking up at her.

"Hi."

"Come in."

Anetra's heart stung at the words, so dull compared to Marcia's usual cheer. She gently swung herself into the room, closing the window behind her. Marcia was sat on the bed, looking at her expectantly. She hesitated, sitting on the windowsill.

"You can sit on the bed, you know."

Anetra shakily got up, taking a seat a few feet away from Marcia. Marcia frowned when she sat down before looking back up toward her. Anetra opened her mouth to speak, feeling her words catching in her mouth.

"I-"

She grimaced as she felt her throat go dry, unable to speak. Marcia noticed, speaking up instead.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"What? No, no, of course not."

Marcia's words took Anetra by surprise, she looked up towards the girl. She felt a pang of guilt go through her as she looked at Marcia's face, a mix of hurt and confusion.

"Then what is it, Lotus? You've been ignoring me for three days..."

"It's not your fault...it's...it's..."

She tried to spit out what she had rehearsed. But in that moment, all the words she had put so much thought into had disappeared. She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. She tried to steady her breathing as Marcia put a concerned hand on her shoulder. She then burst into tears.

That wasn't what she had planned.

She felt Marcia envelop her in a hug, Anetra burying her head in the blonde's neck as she sobbed. The stress had broken her. She felt embarrassed, she was supposed to be a hero- she wasn't supposed to cry. She was supposed to smile and put on a brave face, to beat the villain. But she couldn't.

"Lotus...talk to me, what's going on?" Marcia held her gently, as if she might break. Anetra gently raised her head, Marcia wiping away a stray tear making its way down her left cheek.

"I-I got a call from that villain..." she choked out, her voice hoarse.

"The one from that big case?" Marcia handed her a bottle of water. Anetra nodded, taking the water with shaky hands.

"Y-yeah...she called me and...well...she threatened you." She finally said, her gaze avoiding Marcia.

"Threatened me how?" Marcia's voice was softer than she expected, she had expected her to be angry with her.

"She...she just insinuated that I might not be able to save you. That she might...hurt you."

"What? How'd she even call you in the first place?"

"She left a note with my name and address. I'm assuming she found my phone number too."

"Lotus..." Marcia spoke softly, running a hand through Anetra's hair.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. You shouldn't be dealing with any of this."

She sighed, "I wish you would have told me sooner instead of ignoring me."

"I thought if I ignored you...I thought she might leave you alone. I'm sorry, I just...haven't been thinking straight lately."

"I'm not angry," Marcia guided Anetra's head to look up at her, "I know you're worried about me. But just...talk to me about it, okay?"

Anetra nodded, "I will. And I'll do everything I can to protect you. I promise. I'm not going to let her hurt you."

"I know you won't."

"Just...stay extra vigilant until this whole thing blows over, please? You should be with someone at all times, especially at night." Anetra worried, taking Marcia's hands into her own and squeezing them.

"I will. I know you'll catch her." Marcia moved one of her hands up to cup Anetra's face, giving her a soft smile before kissing her cheek.

Anetra softly smiled, feeling herself relax for the first time in days. She leaned into Marcia's touch, allowing herself to feel safe. She was grateful Marcia believed in her, she just hoped she was right.

[sapphire-to-the-rain]

hi hi so guys ……i have this google doc that has been sitting untouched for a month and it has the outline and some of the first chapter for a ✨ten chapter planymphia fic✨ LMAO

i’m still not really feeling pn enough to write this fic at least for now but the outline is decent quality and i think the fic itself would be one that people (myself included) would want to read ! so as with all things in life i’ve decided the best way to proceed is with a tumblr poll

[eyeslikewatercoolers]

She's Gonna Be Popular- Chapter 3

...Yeah sorry this took me nearly two months to update. But, hey! Anarcia! With some blossoming feelings, wild ragers, and unexpected friendships. (also Roura cameo)

CW for underage drinking and marijuana use

read on a03

Marcia paced the living room floor for ten minutes, waiting anxiously for her sister to arrive home. Knowing little about doing hair and makeup, she asked Jan to come home from college to help Anetra look good enough for the party. 

It wasn’t exactly cheating to use Jan to help, or at least that’s what she was hoping. It would just be family helping family if Luxx asked any questions. 

Upon hearing the garage door open, they let out a sigh of relief. They walked into the mudroom to see Jan carrying a backpack and duffel bag full of clothes, trying to get through the hallway. “Thank God you’re here. Why are you late?”

“I was helping Jackie study for her Economics test, but then you said this was urgent,” Jan explained as Marcia followed her into her old bedroom. 

“It is urgent. Anetra will be here any minute!” Marcia peeked through the curtains to look at the driveway again. 

Jan started unpacking her bags as she glanced at her sibling, “Helping you and your friend to go to a party isn’t really that urgent.” 

“It’s urgent for me.” Marcia pointed out as they looked over the makeup and hair products that Jan had taken out and placed on the bed. Marcia picked a slightly larger box and read the cherry red hair dye label. “Why do you have this?” she asked.

The older sister shrugged “Crystal said that it was too bright for her, so she gave it to me.”

“Isn’t that your friend that wears the overalls with little rainbows painted on them? She thought that red hair dye was too bright?”  Marcia walked closer to the window to keep an eye out on the driveway.

“I think it’s because she’s trying to impress this girl in our chemistry study group, but Jackie says-” Jan was interrupted by Marcia’s sudden squeal of excitement.

They say a pair of headlights pull into the driveway Marcia quickly spun around, “She’s here! I’ll go get the door.” 

After about an hour and a half of hair and make-up and another thirty minutes of finding a dress in Jan’s old closet that fit Anetra, time was getting close to leaving for the party.  Marcia was pacing the living room again, waiting for Jan to bring out Anetra for a grand reveal. 

At least she had the twins to keep her company this time as they patiently waited on the couch. They arrived a few minutes earlier so all four could go to Kerri’s party together. 

“How long does putting on a stupid dress and heels take?” Marcia asked out loud, turning on her heel. 

“Zippers can be confusing, maybe it’s that.” Sugar pointed out as Spice watched Marcia pace like she was watching a tennis match. 

Marcia looked at the large wall clock and sighed, “They are taking forever. What is taking them so long?” 

“I think we have a good reason for taking so long, Marsh.” Jan peeked around the corner with a grin on her face. 

Marcia turned to face the hallway, raising her eyebrows, “Well?” 

Jan stepped out to clear the entryway of the hall “Ladies, may I introduce the new, not improved, but different-”

“Jan, we don’t have the time for this!” Marcia raised their hands in impatience. “Just get her out here.” 

“Fine.” Jan huffed like an annoyed teenager and peeked back into the hall, waving to motion to come that way. “Come on, you look stunning!” 

Slowly appearing from behind the wall she was hiding behind, Anetra did look stunning. The black sequined mini dress showed off her toned long legs with silver stilettos. 

But what shocked everyone was Anetra’s hair color. She now had dark red hair curled into light beachy waves. Her striking brown eyes weren’t behind glasses, her elongated facial features on full display. 

Marcia felt shocked as she stared at her friend. She had no idea how much time passed until she felt a hand on her shoulder. 

“I think Marcia might be broken.” Spice’s voice pulled her back into reality. 

She cleared her throat before speaking, “Y-you look amazing.” she stuttered. 

Anetra looked at the decorative mirror on the wall, “Really? All she did was dye my hair and put makeup on me.” she said in a deadpan tone. 

“But you’re hot now!” Sugar added as her friends nodded in agreement. 

“We should get going. Luxx says that the party is already starting,” Spice said, looking at her phone.  

Marcia took Anetra’s car keys off the table and handed them to her, “Let’s show you off.”

Marcia felt giddy as she noticed the attention that Anetra was drawing in as they walked up the driveway. Heads turned in their direction as people took notice of them making their arrival. 

“Who is that?”

“Does she go to our school?”

“I need to know that girl’s name!”

“Why is everyone staring at us?” Anetra asked as they turned to the cement path that led up to the Colby house. She looked like she was still getting used to wearing heels as she walked up the steps.

“Because they are all staring at you!” Spice said.

“I go to these parties all the time, and they’ve never looked at me like this,” Anetra responded as they saw Luxx waiting on the porch.

“How do you look this good?” Luxx asked her while glancing at Marcia. “Girl, you look amazing!” 

Before Anetra could answer, Marcia interjected. “My sister gave us some tips. Just family helping me out, is all.” she gave Luxx a knowing look. 

Luxx seemed to accept that answer as Anetra approached the front door, “I need to find Sasha first, I don’t like leaving her alone at these parties.”

“Why? I’m sure the girl who leads all the school’s tutoring would be fine by herself.” Luxx said as they followed. 

“You’ve never seen how drunk Sasha can get,” Anetra said as the door opened, and a shorter girl launched herself at her. The girl wore a short gold dress with her hair pulled into a tight ponytail.

“Neech!! Where have you been? I missed you already.” Sasha’s words started to slur as Anetra tried to peel herself away. 

“I told you earlier, I was getting ready with Marcia tonight,” Anetra explained as they all followed Sasha into the house, welcomed by loud music and the smell of alcohol. 

Sasha looked closer at her, “You’re hot. Like I wanna date you kinda hot.” she said as she leaned closer to Anetra, “Why aren’t we dating?” she asked before giggling. 

“We talked about this. You’re too busy with school, and I want us to stay friends.” Anetra explained as calmly as she could. 

“Oh, right!” Sasha said before giggling again, completely leaning on her friend. “And you prefer blondes.” she fell into another fit of drunk laughter.

Luxx elbowed Marcia and leaned closer to her ear, “Lucky you, huh?” 

Marcia felt her cheeks heat up and needed to take Anetra to more people to get noticed. “Let’s go check out the backyard,” she said as she grabbed Anetra’s hand. 

“Wait, what about her?” she asked, looking at Sasha as she took a drink someone handed her. “I never leave her alone at parties, she gets way too drunk,” she said with a concerned look. 

Marcia thought for a moment before pointing to the twins. “You two can watch her. It can’t be that hard, right?” 

Anetra turned to look at the twins, “Fine. Just don’t let her get crossfaded, and don’t let her eat after midnight, okay?”

Luxx interjected with a sarcastic question, “Why? Will she turn into a gremlin or something?”

Anetra shook her head, “You don’t want to find out tonight, let’s leave it at that.” Marcia pulled her away while the twins got accustomed to their new intoxicated friend. 

After a couple of hours of Marcia trying to get everyone at the party to meet Anetra, both started feeling tired from socializing with everyone at the party. Anetra led them to a quieter part of the backyard by the swing bench. 

“I’m going to get a drink, do you want anything?” Marcia said as she watched Anetra settle on the bench. As long as they’ve been at the party, Marcia realized that neither of them had anything to drink yet. 

Anetra shook her head before reaching into her back pocket, “No thanks, I’d rather smoke.”  It was hard to see in the dark, but Marcia realized it wasn’t a cigarette. 

Suddenly, Marcia felt more intrigued by the joint and completely forgot about getting a drink. “Can I try some?” they asked as they sat next to Anetra. 

“Have you had weed before?” the redhead asked, and Marcia shook their head. Anetra smiled in return, “That’s okay, I can teach you.” she said, passing Marcia the joint. 

Marcia listened to and followed Anetra’s instructions closely. She felt the heat from the lighter on the tip of her nose before Anetra slowly pulled away. She immediately missed the other girl's closeness, although she was right next to her. 

Anetra took back the joint for her turn once the blonde exhaled, and a poof of smoke circled in the air. They took turns slowly, peacefully people-watching other party-goers in the backyard.

“Wait, have you had this with you the whole time?” Marcia asked, breaking the silence between them. 

Anetra chuckled, “Are you asking if I brought pot into your house?” she shot back, stomping out the end of the joint with her shoe. Marcia nodded as Anetra continued, “I got it from Jax while you were in the bathroom.” 

Marcia let out a sigh of relief, “My parents would have killed me. Jan would probably kill me too if they knew weed was in the house.”  she said as she stood from the swinging bench. “Should we go back inside?”

“Yeah, it’s getting a bit cold out here, and this dress isn’t helping,” Anetra said as she followed Marcia inside. They navigated through the crowd, looking for any familiar face. The party seemed to have even more people scattered throughout the house. 

“I don’t see the Luxx or the twins anywhere,” Marcia said, trying to peer over the crowd. Their towering height had some advantages, but no luck in looking for their friends in the house. 

“Let me go ask them.” Anetra led Marcia to a couple on the couch, completely engrossed in each other. Upon closer look, Marcia couldn’t recognize either of the two girls making out on the couch. 

Anetra stood directly before them with her arms crossed, waiting for them to notice her. “Hello? Excuse me?” she said, hoping to get their attention. This lasted a few moments, the couple still in their own world. 

“I don’t think it’s working,” Marcia said, looking at Anetra. 

“Let me try something else,” Anetra said before moving to the end of the couch and leaning down to get close to the dark-haired girl’s ear. 

She waited for the music’s beat to reach a low point before loudly calling out, “AURA!!”

The couple jumped apart, and the other girl, with long braided hair, put her hand on her chest to calm her racing heart. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Yeah, Robin and I were kinda in the middle of something,” Aura said, straightening her back to sit up.

Anetra ignored the concerns of ruining a makeout session, “Have you seen Sasha?”

“I think I saw two girls taking her out the front door. She looked kinda sick.” Robin shrugged, peeking out the window nearby.

Marcia watched Anetra peek through the open blinds before saying a quick “Thanks.” to the couple before leading her through the crowd again.

Anetra darted through the crowd to get to the front door as Marcia followed close behind. They turned the corner and quickly found the twins and Sasha by the bushes. 

“Oh shit, are you okay?” Anetra asked as Sasha slowly stood up from doubling over the bushes. Marcia looked between the twins and Sasha, unsure of what to do. 

Sasha nodded, “That last Screwdriver that Kerri gave me just hit me.” she mumbled as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve. She sounded slightly more at ease than when they saw her earlier in the night.

Luxx came from around the corner of the open garage, holding a bottle of water. “Here’s this.” they passed the bottle to her. 

“Have you been sobering her up?” Anetra asked the twins and Luxx as the three nodded. 

“She said that she has a big college meeting in the morning and was worried about it.” Sugar explained. 

“So we all came out here and kind of just, let her talk.” Spice added with a shrug.

“You two are really good listeners, you know.” Sasha smiled warmly after closing the water. “You all can crash here tonight after the party is over. I’m sure Kerri won’t mind.”

Marcia smiled with Anetra, who seemed relieved “I’m glad we left you in good hands.” they said. “Maybe you should take the twins with you to Yale.”

Luxx leaned closer to Marcia, giving a skeptical look. “Why do you smell like weed?” 

Before Marcia could say anything, Anetra piped up “We shared a joint tonight.” before giving a wink and turning back to Sasha, “I’ll help you back upstairs since you have an early day tomorrow.”

“I’m gonna try to get in the shower first, but I’ll meet you up there,” Sasha said as she waved goodbye to the others before heading back inside. 

Anetra pulled Marcia a few steps away from her friends, who joined with other partygoers in conversation. “I just wanted to say that I had a really good time with you tonight. I usually hate these parties, but I liked spending time with you,” she told her. 

Marcia smiled as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “I had a really great time too.” 

“I’ll see you in the morning. Have a good night, Marcia.” 

“Good night, Netra.” she waved as the redhead went back into the house. 

Her mind was nowhere near why they even came to the party, she just thought of the nice evening she spent with Anetra. 

[jinkx-monswoon]

man. the fact that i managed to come up with, write and publish a fic (even if it was only 10 sentences long) in the span of like... 5 minutes is incredible.

and that's AFTER already writing the majority of, and finally finishing, the newest chapter of the anarcia fic IN THE SAME DAY.

i think it just really goes to show how much drag race tumblr/ao3 has reignited my passion for fanfiction. it's like i've been struck with this sudden miracle of creativity, and now i've literally written and published more in the past month than i had in my whole life before then. isn't that just absolutely insane???

[icyspicy4u]

zig’s masterpost

last updated 8/18/23

take their love and let it burn for you instead (in progress): “In which Trixie is an up-and-coming actress faced with the monster of public success, Katya is a popular online film critic who clings to her anonymity as tightly as she can, and Hollywood is a mouth ready to swallow them both whole.”

you have to pick the places you don’t walk away from (completed): “Anetra needs to keep running. Marcia needs her, just this once, to stay.”

wading my way through this neighborhood (in progress): "Anetra is a friendly neighborhood superhero trying not to fall headlong into New York City's tangled crime web while also trying to avoid falling head over heels in love with her roommate. She doesn't really do a good job at either."

as always send me requests/asks ab what you’d like to read

[stillmumu]

In which secrets can't stay secrets forever.

A/N: our favourite idiots are back <3 and this time a few of them actually... communicate? kinda? (groundbreaking!)

[sexynetra]

SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY

Ring ring, who's there? New content 😈

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Marcia loved auditions. The dancing, the singing, the competition. It was better than any drug.

She dropped her bag down by the mirror, starting to stretch as she sized up her competition. Jan was there, of course, lycra-covered arms wrapped around Jackie’s waist. Plasma, a fellow freshman in her improv for theatre majors class, was sitting on the seat nearest to the door, rifling through her sheet music. There was another girl, Marcia couldn’t remember her name – Rhys or Rose or something like that – laughing with Alyssa about something. And Anetra –

Anetra.