Compliment RP Starters
“Suppose I am– You want to give it a shot?”
OTHER WAYS TO SAY ‘I LOVE YOU’ MEME
“You worry TOO much,” Harper sighed, moving as spoke to grab at her belt, strapping it across her chest, eyes rolling almost fondly. “Besides, you’re a good enough driver, Costia, I trust you to keep me safe.”
Costia: *exists*
Harper: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.
[ TEXT ; cost-i-yah] how do you expect me to be a fully-functioning adult when bellamy blake said fart the other day and i laughed for about a minute straight?
[ TEXT ; cost-i-yah ] costia, no. i’m sorry. that was meant for monroe!!
SOME TEXTING MEME
[text]: And the moral of this story is that I’m never, ever, going to the mall with you again. I’m not a huge fan of handcuffs.
SOME MEME I CANNOT FIND THAT IS PROBABLY TO DO WITH AFFECTION
At first, Harper detested the idea of being completely along with Costia; in foreign territory and without the familiar—- and ever safe—- feel of her gun pressed against the inside of her palm, the touch of the weapon in her hands. Maybe it had to do with her own feelings or the fact that the other woman was a grounder, and for as long as they had been on Earth, the grounders had been enemies.
It was the first few days of their time together, when something sharp, likely a plant, pricked along Harper’s calf, earning a hiss and bringing almost an hour worth of sizzling pain. To start with, she shook it off, told Costia with a false grin, teeth showing and everything, that she was totally and utterly fine, but part of her felt like her lie was invisible– to Costia, she was invisible.
They found somewhere to rest later on, set up camp with a fire cackling warmth into their chilled bones, giving them something to crack at the numbness in their limbs. The redhead lifted up her pantleg, rolled enough that Harper could make out the thin scar of something that had cut her calf, and without a moment’s notice, she pressed forward, let her lips mutter solace in the forms of kisses against the other girl’s skin.
“You should be more careful,” she whispered, eyes flickering up to meet her gaze, thumb running along the mark. “Getting hurt like this– We don’t have the things to fix this. I-I’m not Clarke.” And even though her heart ached at the mention of her friend, Harper ignored it, continued to try and soothe the wound, like maybe her kisses could heal the skin back together, get rid of any trace.
Come morning, they packed up their supplies, the older of the two donned her weapon, while the seventeen year-old itched to get her hold on the gun she had left at camp, and they left, leaving the ashes of their fire the only mark of their presence, and even though Harper’s own wound had gone unnoticed, as long as Costia was okay, so was she.
ASK MY MUSE ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHP WITH ANOTHER MUSE!
“A few,” she repeated, avoiding all eye-contact with the owner of the voice,
teeth biting down on her lower lip. Eyes blinking down at the ground, she
allowed herself to speak again. “But—-I don’t know if IT meant anything…
Part of me thinks that she doesn’t like me in the same way I like her, you
know?”
Harper was insecure, especially when it came to questioning Costia’s
interest in her. The older girl was worthy of so much more than just a
silly seventeen year-old with enough death in her mind to fill an entire
graveyard. Costia deserved (deserves) better.
“If it counts for anything, I’ve never liked anyone this much,” her voice
choked out, trying to keep her mind off the fact that once, only once,
Costia had initated the contact; she had shown interest in a relationship
very few times, a hell of a lot less than Harper. “She’s different, she’s–
She’s good." They were family but… Maybe they could be more.
Send me ▼ and I will generate a number for what my muse will say to yours.
INJURY SPECIAL
29 was generated!!
Harper takes a moment to glare down at her injury, at the blood pouring so
steadily from her wounds, eyes peeking up at Costia from beneath blanketed
lashes, eyes thick with sleep. Her hands try to stem it, to cover up the slice
of opened skin, trying to ignore how pale she looks under the light of the sun,
the last glimpse of day visible over the skyline. "I'm bleeding out,“ she chokes,
voice broken.
”Ai’m nou na make em.“
