EVEN THE ANGELS WOULDN'T HELP YOU

independent laura palmer of twin peaks. read rules and about.

[dearlaura]

cherrystemmed:

@dearlaura ( gets a semi-plotted thing because i said so )

“Please don’t cry.”

She hates it when Laura is sad. No, that isn’t accurate—Laura is always sad, just as Audrey is always sad, only neither of them allow it to be on display if they can help it—it’s more that she hates to see Laura cry. Hates to see tears in those crystalline blue eyes, hates the knowledge that there is hardly anything she can do to stop them.

“Please—” But she refrains from getting too close, holding her tight or even taking her hands because she knows sometimes when Laura is upset, she doesn’t like to be touched. Instead, she brushes a wispy blond strand away from Laura’s face, tucks it behind her ear. “—It’s all right.” Voice soft, barely registering above a whisper. ”It was only a dream.”

   It’s harder and harder to distinguish the lines between reality and that strange, strange place she goes to when she’s asleep. When she dreams, she’s always where she wants to be- safe in Audrey’s arms, safe in the notion that nobody immediate could find them and she’d be over- and then it’s all disrupted in this fucking whirlwind of blood and branches and the smell of fire. She’d been burning in her dream, felt it on the white heat of her skin. 

                              When this kind of fire starts, it’s very hard to put out. 

  “I couldn’t breathe,” Laura sobs, hands shaking as she wipes the tears from her cheeks, frustrated. “I couldn’t fucking breathe, and- and all the fire was swallowing me up!”

  Laura didn’t want to be vulnerable right now, but everything in her body screamed it’s dissent from the flames and she was so horribly hot. Her hands rush from her cheeks to her hair, instinctively tugging and pulling at rigid curls, by all accounts a fucking mess. Shameful.

[dearlaura]

.....i just want nice things to happen

[takeachillquill]

People just want abuse victims that are soft and kind and gentle, the kind of victims who validate their beliefs that “everything happens for a reason”. It doesn’t occur to these people that abuse actually damages people, that it could turn victims bitter and resentful rather than into poster-children for resilience and inner-strength. Victims don’t just exist to pay homage to your worldview that “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” as if abuse could ever be a positive or an experience to be grateful for. 

[artfoli]

Detail of The Conversion of Mary Magdalene, 1548, by Paolo Veronese (1528-1588)

[dearlaura]

cherrystemmed:

She can’t help staring—this doesn’t look like the Laura she sees at school every day, all smiles and saccharine and blond sunshine. This Laura is… raw, all nerves, moving like a caged animal. It’s unsettling, and sort of fascinating, too. 

“I don’t ignore you,” snapped pointedly, matching tone for tone, “We just don’t talk to each other. That isn’t the same as ignoring somebody.”

Audrey Horne is a loner, always has been. School has never been easy because she doesn’t make friends easily. The boys are afraid of her, and other girls… other girls never seem to give her the time of day, Laura most definitely included. Sure, she talks to Donna sometimes, but the minute Laura’s around their bond ceases to exist. Laura is something mercurial and magnetic so it’s natural that Donna and everybody else seem to be pulled into her orbit.

She exhales with a huff, crosses her arms over her waist and looks down at the floor… at her saddle shoes, pristine black and white, in contrast to Laura’s less than pristine black loafers. “It’s weird that you’re here.” More than weird. She looks up again, still entirely confused by this version of Laura Palmer. “It’s Saturday night. You have a hundred other things to do.”

    “Yeah, well,” Laura huffs right back, just as incredulous as Audrey is that she ended up in this backwoods prison. “It’s just ninety nine other things I don’t feel like doing, and one that I do- the latter being what’s not available to me right now, so. You might see why my options are a little limited.” 

    Her words lose their bite, all airy and nothing of malice, not anymore. She came to the quick realization that the hostility was something unnecessary, something made up in her little fucked up mind that needed to be worked out in therapy, not a tacky hotel lobby. Shoulders give a noncommittal shrug as she tries to calm down, breathing in smooth, even breaths.

   “Whatever. I’m here now, you’re striking up small talk,” She raises a hand, gesturing at Audrey. “That’s just as weird. Now that I’ve satisfied your curiosity are you gonna go back to peeping, or do you plan on sticking around?”

  A small, non-vocal part of her hopes for Audrey’s company, if only because there was no one else available at the moment. It was all a matter of real fucking inconvenience. She just had to remember.

[dearlaura]

i saw one of ur posts nd just thought i should add on- laura also has the fantasy abt nursing josh and rick. laura palmer has a very canon mommy kink,,

VILE HONESTLY!!! But you’re completely right! In Laura’s sense though, it’s not so much a mommy kink as it is a dependence kink. She likes to feel wanted and needed and if that requires a little roleplay on her part then she’s all for it- understandable besides the whole nursing thing, she’s alone on that! 

Also she slept with Josie Packard and I think we all know who the mommy was in that little fling...

[dearlaura]

as a more serious addendum to that post, i would deeeefinitely headcanon Laura as a bisexual homoromantic. her sexuality is more fluid than lesbianism, but she feels no real desire for men; just a surface level attraction. on my many re-reads of The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer, I remembered BOB often likes to take over her pen and insult her. 

one of the many insults he uses, and one of the most frequent, is calling her a lesbian. while not an insult in itself, this word is meant to hurt her and it does. she denies it, she’s angry at it- but is she angry because it’s not true? because of the connotations? the time period? or because she’s deeply in the closet? 

Laura enjoys sex with men on a basic, animal level. but there is no man that she can find any place in her heart for, or any sympathy. they cause trouble. she thinks she hates them, sometimes. there’s a man inside her destroying her life, and she thinks she hates them.

[dearlaura]

cherrystemmed:

A night like almost any other, spent in and out of secret nooks known only to her, passageways in these wooden walls discovered solely out of the mind-numbing boredom that’s plagued her for only, oh, her whole life. Audrey grew up with the notion that children should be seen and not heard—and even better if they could go unseen, as well. Her father still believes in that. Still believes that his daughter should keep to herself. At least, he’s never given her any reason to think otherwise. 

But there’s enough going on tonight that she’s able to sneak undetected into the main hall, saddle shoes making much less noise than a pair of heels, safe in the knowledge that Daddy is ensconced in his office, elbows-deep in some kind of paperwork (she’d spied, just to be certain). She leans idly against the wall, surveying this latest crop of oddball tourists, gaze listless as usual until—- 

—-That can’t be Laura. 

Can’t be, except it is, very certainly and most definitely Laura Palmer at the Great Northern on a Saturday night. Strange—no, downright bizarre. Curiosity wins out; Audrey weaves her way through the small crowd until she’s face to face with the homecoming queen herself. “Are you… here to meet somebody, or what?” Can’t help being blunt because that’s just the way she’s wired, and frankly that’s the only reason she can imagine accounting for Laura’s presence. Weird place for a drug deal, though.

   fuck. fuck. fuck. 

        Audrey’s appearance is alarming enough for her to do a double-take, eyes widening and flitting around all at once, teeth clenching in a painful clack she can barely register. She doesn’t even know herself why she’s so shocked at this- when wasn’t Audrey here? Fucking coke paranoia. Her fingers itched still, and she tries with every muscle in her body to recover from the strange expression. 

   “No,” Laura says, just as bluntly, releasing a harsh breath. “I wish. There’s nobody worth meeting here. Not right now.”

       She rolls her shoulders, their soreness getting to her, craving just a little bit of numbness. She’d try anything at this point. Looking to Audrey again, she examines her a little closer, that fucking glamorous arch of her brow and ever-present lipstick. Laura looked a mess right now; but it didn’t really matter. More paranoia and jealousy setting in. 

     “You ignore me at school, but now that I’m in your territory I’m a target, huh? What kind of animal are you, Audrey?”

[toanunnery]

Ariadne

Chauncey Bradley Ives, 1853

[dearlaura]

sorry i haven’t been on today! getting stuff ready on another blog of mine, and just general unproductiveness. feel free to im me on here or ask for my discord if you want to talk!

[dearlaura]

I stand by that the only thing FWWM did wrong was that nasty scene where Laura makes out with James and pops her tiddies out at SCHOOL

[littlelovelymemes]

✰ * º ❛  twin peaks ask meme.  ❜

‘  i have no idea where this will lead us, but i have a definite feeling it will be a place both wonderful and strange.  ’ ‘  damn good coffee!  ’ ‘  when did you start smoking?  ’ ‘  i smoke every once and awhile. helps relieve tension.  ’ ‘  when you see me again, it won’t be me.  ’ ‘  every day, once a day, give yourself a present.  ’ ‘  where we’re from, the birds sing a pretty song and there’s always music in the air.  ’ ‘  why are you whittling?  ’ ‘  i feel like i know her.  ’ ‘  achievement is its own reward, pride obscures it.  ’ ‘  i believe i was visited by a giant last night. twice.  ’ ‘  you’re his whore.  ’ ‘  i’d rather be his whore than your wife.  ’ ‘  the only thing columbus discovered was that he was lost!  ’ ‘  coincidence and fate figure largely in our lives.  ’ ‘  is that bag smiling?  ’ ‘  i plan on writing an epic poem about this gorgeous pie.  ’ ‘  we’re going to need some more coffee.  ’ ‘  it’s so strange. it’s like i’m having the most beautiful dream and the most terrible nightmare all at once.  ’ ‘  i consumed 15 donuts today. all jelly.  ’ ‘  damn fine sheets. i’m gonna get naked and slide around in them.  ’ ‘  i know who killed her.  ’ ‘  in real life there is no algebra.  ’ ‘  i don’t think anybody really knows me.  ’ ‘  hiding from your fear doesn’t make your fear go away.  ’ ‘  fact: she had a sweet tooth for nose candy.  ’ ‘  maybe he’ll realize i’m the woman of his dreams.  ’ ‘  i love this music. isn’t it too dreamy?  ’ ‘  you know, there’s only one problem with you… you’re perfect.  ’ ‘  escape! i’ve got a better idea: a tall, dark, and handsome stranger falls madly in love with me, takes me away to a life of mystery and international intrigue.  ’ ‘  maybe you should runaway and join the circus.  ’ ‘  we have to promise to keep this between ourselves. our secret.  ’ ‘  styrofoam never dies for as long as you live.  ’ ‘  i decided i needed some me time.  ’ ‘  i’m only quiet on the outside.  ’ ‘  the problems of our entire society are of a sexual nature.  ’ ‘  to be perfectly honest, i think i’m in a little over my head.  ’ ‘  sleep deprivation is a one-way ticket to temporary psychosis.  ’ ‘  you don’t know what trouble is.  ’ ‘  great. after the square dance, maybe we can all take a hayride.  ’ ‘  but you don’t like me?  ’ ‘  i like you very much.  ’ ‘  i’ll see you again in 25 years.  ’ ‘  you really like to make everything sound pointless and stupid.  ’ ‘  your body feels nice against mine.  ’ ‘  i’m insane?  ’ ‘  why aren’t you here?  ’ ‘  our world is a magical smoke screen.  ’ ‘  what really is creamed corn?  ’ ‘  this cherry pie is a miracle.  ’ ‘  shhh. i’ll do the talking.  ’ ‘  that’s the kind of girl to make you wish you spoke a little french.  ’ ‘  i always felt closer to nature than i did to people.  ’ ‘  beautiful people get everything they want.  ’ ‘  i’ll see you in my dreams.  ’ ‘  would you like some pie?  ’ ‘  don’t worry, bad boy.  ’ ‘  her absence touches me in ways i could not predict.  ’ ‘  i thought you could teach me.  ’ ‘  if i’m ever lost, i hope you’re the one they send to find me.  ’ ‘  women were drawn from a different set of blueprints.  ’ ‘  what i want and what i need are two different things.  ’ ‘  some ideas can arrive in the form of a dream.  ’ ‘  you may think i’ve gone insane, but i promise… i will kill again.  ’ ‘  there is a sadness in this world, for we are ignorant of many things.  ’ ‘  you’re the most cold-blooded person i’ve ever seen!  ’ ‘  i’ve never, in my life, met someone with so little regard for human frailty.  ’ ‘  well, i’m sure he meant to hit you.  ’ ‘  there’s a sort of evil out there.  ’ ‘  i’ve got one man too many in my life and i’m married to him.  ’ ‘  look at us. two men apiece and we don’t know what to do with any of the four of them.  ’ ‘  then we got married and i find out all he was looking for was a maid he didn’t have to pay.  ’ ‘  i feel so stupid.  ’ ‘  she had secrets and around those secrets she built a fortress.  ’ ‘  you’ll have to excuse me this morning, i’m running late. i only have time for coffee.  ’ ‘  i only have time for coffee.  ’

[dearlaura]

aberiinkula:

( ｄｏ  ｙｏｕ  ｔｈｉｎｋ  ｙｏｕ’ｖｅ  ｇｏｎｅ  ｕｎｈｅａｒｄ，  ｃｒａｗｌｉｎｇ  ｉｎ  ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ  ｙｏｕｒ  ｗｉｎｄｏｗ？              ｗｅ  ｃａｎ  ｍａｋｅ  ｉｔ  ｏｕｒ  ｗｉｎｄｏｗ．  ｏｕｒｓ．  ｂｕｔ  ｉ  ｎｅｖｅｒ  ｄｉｄ  ｌｉｋｅ  ｓｈａｒｉｎｇ. ) A hissing plagues her, somewhere between a gas leak and that infernal death rattle, the one that sneaks up on you right before He gets you.      In dreams, Laura unwittingly slides through the thin veil of the waking reality and into a place that is darker than night, but only in spirit. To be there, to actually be there… It’s there she can really s e e him. Aghast white hair and withered face that reflected viciousness. In the corner of her eye she can  s e e  what Bob really looks like. Really  s e e  it. A void so dense, so dreadful, so crushing to be in proximity. In a way, it reflected Bob’s true nature; to consume, to take. ( Ｈａｖｅ  ｙｏｕ  ｓｅｅｎ  ｔｈｅ  ｌｉｖｉｎｇ？  Ｔｉｒｅｄ  ｏｆ  ｔｈｅｉｒ  ｏｗｎ  ｓｈｅｌｌｓ！  Ｌｅｔ  ｍｅ  ｉｎ！ )

        The demon grinds his jaw hard in his mouth as his body goes parallel and starts to crawl. The void wants to swallow her up.               Bob’s teeth gnash in his skull as his hands seek to find that place that makes her pray for death, to look right into his eyes and really  s e e  herself and know there is no escape.

         he’s here. he’s here he’s here he’s here he’s here and nothing else floods her mind, breaks open it’s gates. she doesn’t have to open her eyes to know that sickening presence enveloping the very air around her, skin burning at the contact with evil, pure evil- 

          she can’t move. there’s nothing separating him from reaching down that ghastly fucking hand, mere inches away from her stomach as it turns and turns and turns! her eyes fly open, rimmed with red and glossed over tears, she stares back into nothing. bitter darkness with no defining shape, blacks and grays and not a tinge of white, of purity; no guardian angel to stop him as his hands travel higher and lower and around her. 

        Laura couldn’t say with certainty what they were doing, what they wanted, simply traveling around and inside her body, seemingly shifting all her organs around- she breathed heavily at the pain of it. it felt as if he’d dug in dirty nails deep within her, an indescribable pain and place and she can’t even scream-

[diane-selwyn]

[dearlaura]

      @horneheiress  

   she’s not in any rush to get home. weekends were reserved for fun, not an anxious night alone with her mom, breathing in the smell of her chainsmoke- although it was arguable that Laura was having any fun right now. her previous plans had canceled on her, some bullshit about a drug bust up north and how it’d be best to reschedule next week. her fingers were already shaking. 

        whatever. she’d bide her time. it was a busy night at the Great Northern, it’s guests and patrons loud and boisterous, full of hot coffee and bellies warm with drink. Laura felt some small comfort in the crowd, could’t bear the thought of being alone at this hour, Bobby and James barely a call away and still so alone- 

                                        but I’m not in the fucking mood. 

       Laura sticks to the corners, hoping she goes unnoticed to all the strange tourists. she’s itching for a cigarette, but the cold outside tells her otherwise. 

[indielists]

do you have a twin peaks character, oc, or verse ? if so, please reblog this post with your character(s) name in the tags, if you are an oc please specify that, and if you only have a verse be sure to specify that as well. please reblog once per blog.

                         reblog and tag appropriately and you will be added to this list.

[dearlaura]

@aberiinkula

      there’s...a tingling inside her. it starts with her fingers, travels up her arms and all down her breasts, her torso, her legs and toes. her whole body is a string pulled taut, tense muscles only relaxing as she feels a cool wind blow in. has she left the window open? 

                                                     who cares? 

     her mind is a blur of emotionless movement, dizzying colors and sounds in her dark room. the curtains sway with the changing air, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as her panting sends her to the brink of unconsciousness. she’d had her fun for the night, could barely make it home and up the window- it was time for rest and reality. her eyes slip shut.