#shellyjohnnson

[ragefelt-a]

                                    ‘  𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒂 𝒃𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆  !  ’  Yeah,  he’s  read  the  local  paper,  he’s  been  in  town  long  enough  to  acquire  a  room  at  Red  Diamond  City  Motel.  The  kind  of  motel  that  one  doesn’t  LIKE  to  admit  that  they’ve  stayed  at,  the  kind  of  motel  that  had  a  certain  reputation.  Rumored  to  be  one  of  MANY  hotels  that  Laura  Palmer  had  frequented  before  her  untimely  end.  Charming,  Twin  Peaks  they’re  all  the  same.  One  would’ve  thought  Jackson  would’ve  warmed  to  the  small  town;  hell  they  had  enough  flannel.  ‘  𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒖𝒚’𝒔 𝒂 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏’ 𝑮𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒐𝒏 𝑮𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒐 . . . 𝒉𝒆’𝒔 𝒂 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆.  ’

                                      Jackson  won’t  touch  Ben  Horne  not  for  all  the  money  in  the  world,  the  guy  couldn’t  be  trusted,  and  now  ? It  appeared  that  the  guy  was  almost  certifiably  insane. ‘  𝑪’𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒚                     𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒖𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒅𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒇 𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒕.  ’  He  sets  the  paper  aside  as  he  shakes  head,  and  deeply  inhales.  ‘  𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏’ 𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏’ 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒚’𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 ? 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒏 𝒈𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒉𝒆’𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒂 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏’ 𝒈𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒄𝒌. 𝑨 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒔.  ’  

            starter       .       /      @shellyjohnnson

[skyhauntsa]

“honey, just breathe.”

stranger things.

he lets out a shaky breath that he knows sounds terrible over the line. all harsh wind and static through the hollow of the phone. the deep inhale that follows is just as bad.

he’s outside a bar. there’s a general store nearby and a gas station across from it. a dozen other scattered buildings line the streets—some abandoned, some not, all of them closed. downtown, he thinks. he’s downtown and it’s late and he can’t get his pulse under control long enough to remember why he came here in the first place. the streetlight flickers above him and he flinches. his grasp tightens around the phone, fingernails biting into his palm as he exhales.

        “i’m sorry — i’m so sorry.” he saw something, heard something, felt something that reminded him too much of empty fields and yawning skies. instinct demanded he reach out for something decidedly free of those barbed ties, someone decidedly free of them, and he’s only now realized the thoughtlessness of it all. calling her now, at this hour of night, when fog begins to gather on the horizon. greeting her with an urgency that surpasses the border of too much. the thrum of tires hitting gravel travels across the vacant street. he rests his head against the payphone and closes his eyes.

        “i shouldn’t’ve called. i should’ve— i— you were probably asleep. christ, it’s so late. i’m sorry, shelly—” and again, he breathes, just as she told him to, but his words don’t come out any less rushed. “i didn’t know who else to call.”

[vizla]

           THE CUP IN HIS HAND IS NEAR EMPTY.    He’s  taken  to  staring  vacantly  into  the  bottom,   at  the  small  pool  of  lukewarm  liquid  that  has  settled  evenly.   The  cup  rests  untouched  upon  the  counter  between  his  hands,   mind  wandering.   The  diner  is  relatively  quiet  throughout,   save  for  the  subtle  bustle  of  chatter  a  few  sparse  occupants  create.   Duncan  finds  it  to  be  pleasant,   peaceful    -     a  vision  of  what  he  hopes  awaits  him  down  the  line  of  retirement.   

             So  near  his  waiting  grasp  yet  still  too  far  to  reach,   it  is  how  he  finds  himself  in  such  a  town  as  Twin  Peaks.   His  target  in  question  had  chosen  their  location  carefully,   tucked  away  from  the  rest  of  the  world  it  seemed. . .    Not  well  enough  to   evade   the  contract  on  his  life  however.   He  is  pulled  from  his  thoughts  as  his  waitress  reappears  before  his  line  of  vision,   fresh  pot  of  coffee  in  hand.   Duncan  nods  his  head  to  her  question  of  a  refill.   It  steams  in  porcelain  and  he  presses  his  hands  against  the  sides  to  allow  the  heat  to  warm  his  fingers.

             ❛  Thank  you.  ❜     His  tone  is  appreciative,   weight  further  leaned  upon  the  counter  as  he  considers  whether  or  not  to  add  to  his  order. . .    Perhaps  there  was  time  for  a  smaller  indulgence  of  life.   His  eyes  meet  hers  properly.     ❛  If  I  might  ask  your  suggestion  on  what  pie  is  the  best  served  here?  ❜

@shellyjohnnson .

[pattieboyd]

the only highlights of 2k14: • my matching hsm icons with nastya • my matching graduate icons with kelsey

[pilotscully]

just popping in to say your dale cooper fanmix on 8tracks is fucking perfect. have a great day!!

ahhhh thank you kelsey I'm glad you liked it!!! <3 <3

[pilotscully]

shellyjohnnson replied to your post: “idk if the repetition of “it is happening again” in silver soul by...”:

you have twin peaks mixes. what. what. i feel so out of the loop. what's your 8tracks?

it's @chiffonhead! I made a set of mixes a while back with one for agent cooper, one for laura palmer, and one for audrey horne 

[pilotscully]

shellyjohnnson replied to your post: “question of the day: would it be cheesy/awful for me and the fiance to...”:

you live in georgia??

yeah!! I go to school at UGA