#p1ratelady

[hagiophagya]

happy birthday! have as much fun as you can today friend! <3

[hagiophagya]

5’9” 🥰

imagine your life being upturned and then the hive sends this tiny womanthing ... happened to my friend zosia!

height comparison. @p1ratelady

[hagiophagya]

[TXT] : are you free tonight?

[ sms: @p1ratelady ] mh, no. but i can be if you want me to.

[ sms: zosia ] people will do what i say if i say it sweetly enough.

[hagiophagya]

what have we done to each other?

it's less of 'what have we done to each other?' and more of a 'i remember everything that we did, even if it wasn't me.' it's strange to have your own thoughts in your head after having everyone's like some sort of council. he's caught himself attempting to think everything over and over and over because the quiet is too much to bear. hearing zosia speak is ... well, it's nice.

nicer than the quiet. nicer than the loneliness.

he looks up at her, a brow softly raised. " i don't think we ... are we going to talk about it? " it being ... everything. lucy's hand is soft as it rests against the top of zosia's, giving it a gentle squeeze. " i didn't do anything too unkind to you, did i? are you ... are you okay, zos? " using her full name would make lucy feel like a drone again. " it does not look like i hurt you in any way. are you ... please tell me if you're okay. " @p1ratelady

[hagiophagya]

say please

her heart pounds in her throat, tongue instinctively sweeping along her own bottom lip. the individual still feels things in the flesh, even if the mind is irrevocably connected to everyone. lucy can smell zosia's perfume, the faintness of her skin underneath a delicious thing. her touch is soft against his fingers, eyes looking down to her hands, then back up to zosia's eyes. there's a low humming in the back of her mind, a whisper between millions of people. lucy breathes in, catches for a moment.

still, she (is it her? how much of the desire really comes from her and not from others?) wants. he swallows, lips pressing together. god, he didn't even realize how close she was to the other woman. " please, zosia. we want you. more than anything. please. " it's nearly a whisper, like the want threatens to break through her chest. maybe it will. @p1ratelady

[hagiophagya]

never say that out loud again.

" we apologize if it made you uncomfortable. " to know every language in the world leads to so many different things. sue him (as if the law really mattered anymore) for attempting to speak to zosia in her native tongue. perhaps it's something that dredges up bad memories inside the other woman. still, he grins at zosia, something like mirth warm on her mouth.

" did we happen to say something wrong? forgive us. this mouth isn't trained to say those things correctly. " he only hopes that it comes off as genuine. lucy's eyes are gentle as she looks up, something puppyish in its manner. you can't be mad at them, zosia. they're only attempting to connect. @p1ratelady

[teschmacher]

I heard you talking about me.

eve, of the glossy lips and shiny hair, is mesmerized. people so often glance through her, but never seem to look at her. they see the phone clutched in her hand and her face posing just so for the camera, and make their assumptions, often unkind. almost always false. they like to say she's too wrapped up in her own beauty to notice anyone else. they say her mind is too empty to consider much beyond selecting her next filter, or writing the next perfect caption. so, is that the truth? is that who eve teschmacher is?

looking at her now, eve thinks maybe she'd be willing to be whatever version of herself that zosia liked best. the genius blonde who pulled one over on lex luthor, or maybe the cunning one who stood by his side? there's a common thread of warmth, of kindness, even sweetness, that ties the complicated woman that is eve into a pretty bow.

does zosia have a darkness, too, or does she prefer to see only in shades of sunshine?

❛ i'm so guilty, ❜ eve confesses, finally acknowledging what zosia has said. eve has hitched herself up on a desk, and her face tilts to look at zosia from a different angle. zosia has a beauty different from eve's. her features feel both soft and cutting; her eyes both warm and yet, somehow, dangerous. for the last hour, eve has asked lois lane any and every question that has come to her mind about the daily planet's most brilliant archivist. intrigue doesn't begin to cover it. ❛ think there's a way i could make it up to you? maybe i'll even let you know why i said what i said about you. a real, behind the scenes exclusive! ❜