𝘽𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝙍𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙨𝙤𝙣
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𝙄’𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡, @thehitcherrp.bsky.social 26+/NSFW/MDNI/ #Necromerchant
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𝘽𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝙍𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙨𝙤𝙣/𝙈𝘿𝙉𝙄/ #Necromerchant
//sleep well!! Maybe I’ll still be awake when you get up.
//it’s good for the mental health ❤️

But so is plenty of sleep!
You want me to roll in the mud and eat the roots of various plants?
You're right. Pigs don't wear leashes.
I… no. Don’t think so, now that I think about it.

Too animal-like.
I haven’t had any attention for 30 minutes. I’m so brave.
—fine tooth comb, which was more interesting than the door at least.

Finally out of things to do after searching through the center console, Bruce just laid his seat back and closed his eyes. How terribly boring. So boring in fact, he found himself out of the car, marching into the hotel.)
(Briefly, Bruce had wondered if he had enough time to completely dismantle the car, but decided that was way out of his knowledge zone. He’d already pressed every button on the console and had quickly moved to everything on the door, which was very boring. He had went through the glovebox with a—
( Ryder let out an irritated huff at the absence of his keys. He dropped the bag in front of the door and headed for the reception where he coerced a spare key out of the owner.>
(Well, if he didn’t have to go in then Bruce sure as hell wasn’t getting caught up in this. Bruce looked around outside for just a short moment, but quickly gave up and climbed into the car. He absentmindedly fiddled with the seatbelt at first, soon moving to press random buttons on the console.—
—felt like he was sin suit that was covered in a surprising amount of lube and cum. That probably wouldn’t go over well with the general public.)
(Bruce hurriedly chugged down the rest of the beer, apparently not willing to let it sit around and go flat after opening it. He would much rather enjoy it while it still tasted nice.)

In that case, I’m ready. We just need to change out of all of this.

(Suddenly, Bruce was painfully aware that it—