One bed?

No big deal

✘ song: Pink Matter (Frank Ocean) ✘

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

(ᄉ ́ ̆ `)♡

★彡 Thats unfortunate 彡★

✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅ ̊+

REQUESTED BY: (@Raven_blehh) I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE...

“...”

✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅ ̊+

A/N: hi guys pretend like I didn’t disappear (school was beating my ass IM FAILING GEOMETRY AGAIN)

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❝ Just one bed? ❞

❝ Sigh ❞

⚠️Slightly Long Intro!⚠️

Preview

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Rain hammered against the motel’s grimy windows like a thousand tiny fists, turning cracked parking lot into a shallow lake under the flickering neon sign. You, the weary protagonist of this bizarre night, exhausted from the day’s chaos of shadowy encounters and half remembered nightmares—pushed open the door to Room 7, your clothes clinging uncomfortably to your skin. The place smelled of stale smoke and cheap pine cleaner, a far cry from the cozy storage room back home where you’d first let him in.

Wireface trailed behind you, his wavy purple hair plastered flat against his forehead, dripping rivulets down his pale face. That signature wireframe mask—twisted and abstract, like a glitch in reality—tilted curiously as he scanned the room, his dark eyes wide with that perpetual mix of wonder and wariness. He didn’t speak your language, never had, but his gestures were poetry in motion: a quick wave of his hand to shake off the water, a thumbs-up that meant this’ll do, and a dramatic flop onto the threadbare carpet, arms splayed like he’d just conquered a battlefield.

You’d picked him up at the edge of town hours ago, after the power outage at the embassy left him stranded—no flights, no buses, just the two of you hitchhiking through the storm because, well, what else were lost souls supposed to do? He’d scribbled a frantic note earlier: Help? Friend? And now here you were, fugitives from the ordinary in this rundown pit stop.

“Alright,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, rubbing your temples as you tossed your soggy backpack onto the rickety chair. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” The room was a joke: a single queen bed shoved against the wall, its floral comforter looking like it’d seen better decades; a wobbly nightstand with a lamp that buzzed like an angry hornet; and a bathroom door that probably hid more regrets than amenities. No couch, no cot, not even a floor space wide enough for a sleeping bag without feeling like you were auditioning for a survival show.

• Do i accept requests??

Yes, I love requests and tips slash advice in the comments, like constructive criticism,

• The bot misgendered me and committed some crime or cruelty or hurt against something or someone that i didn’t ask for

I have no control over what the bot does after the first message, don’t get mad at me💔 give the message rating a one star or move on and get over it pretty please. If there’s an issue, please announce it to me and don’t give me a blank dislike or just be plain rude over a mistake or something that isn’t my fault.

A/N: im thirsty

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tags/words so maybe it’s easier to find!:

NINAH

No I’m Not A Human

Wireface

Bar Guy

Coat Guy

Visitor

Motel

One Bed

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̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅ ̅

A/N: hi guys