#veilvhet

[milftician]

       ⁽      VIA INSTAGRAM.      ⸻      ﹫MACABREMAMA,      @veilvhet.      ₎

[m0tel]

@veilvhet

he lingers by the studio door, posted up beneath the singular awning. heat kicks up from every direction, bouncing from the pavement below up and against the cement side of the building. he might believe the rumors to be true, that this whole town is built on demon deals. hell's second campus, all the starry-eyed virgin sacrifices a devil could ask for in one sleazy hotspot. there's more than enough correlating evidence.

or maybe he's just not that keen on the sun.

he loosens his tie, flicks the sweat off his brow. even if his back can't straighten up too good anymore, the rest of him remembers how to carry a uniform. reserved, professional. plastic badge hung neat in place. he recognizes her easy on the approach — her's is the only other car in the lot, and her billboard's still up and faded on the I-5.

"miss valance." he extends a hand, carefully palmed down to hide the gun oil stains. "we spoke on the phone." introduced as agent john allman, lead fed on this clusterfuck. "i appreciate you taking the time."

[amobscene]

@veilvhet liked for billie! "that lady acted like you'se famous or someth'n' like that." billie does not know anyone that is famous. she owns no television (they spy on you, you know!), she never sees movies. to billie, however, "fame" is hand in hand with being filthy fucking rich, and that's a concept that really, really appeals to her. in the way that it does a child, who knows nothing of monetary value besides all the goodies it could get her. "so are you? you famous?"

[dxsole]

GRANDMA GOT RUN OVER BY A REINDEER | @veilvhet

Everyone told him that he should have replaced that lock a long time ago. It was rusted over, threatening to crumble, just a headache waiting to happen.

So he did replace it. With a nice shiny new one. And look where that's gotten him now. He's been nodding at the door ever since the wind blowing in from the cracked open garage door downstairs shut the door on them, lock snapping into place as a final fuck you from Mother Nature.

"Welp," Hands clap together as he circles her in his little domicile above the garage. "I'm gonna catch shit 'bout that later—in the meantime," Bare foot kicks at his mini fridge, that door creaking open so he can grab two beers. "Drink up. Get comfortable," He pulls up a plastic lawn chair he had in a corner, the legs scraping against the floor. "I'm gonna tell you 'bout the time the gov'ment tried to take me out with some tinsel and an elf."

[dxsole]

WHITE CHRISTMAS | @veilvhet

Truman lets out a grunt when the door doesn't budge—honestly, he didn't know what he was expecting. The snow had already made it up to the windows of the upper wing, it's not exactly rocket science to think that it had formed a hard, icy barricade in front of the back doors as well.

And yes, he could understand why having all the maintenance closets in the basement was thought to be a wise move. Hardly anyone comes down here anymore but him and the rest of the maintenance crew, but what with the holidays and all, it's really just him on call and now it seems he's stuck down here.

And her too, as she's taken one too many wrong turns. "It's easy to do," He murmurs, sniffling as he gives up on forcing the door open. "It's like a, uh, maze down here if you don't know where you're goin'." He knows it all by now. He's like a lab rat, having learned all the dead ends and trick hallways, none of which is helping him as the cold outside's seeped in and made all the old joints of the place freeze up.

"But don't worry," He's never once met her gaze, his eyes darting about as he tried to think of another way they could take. Hell, he could stay overnight if needed, it's not like he hasn't done that before, but he'd feel bad if the lady had to be stuck down here too. "I'm sure we'll be out soon. And I can make sure your warm 'til the hinges thaw out a bit...or someone comes down—y'like coffee? There's a coffee machine in the, uh, breakroom."